#N'Jobu Smut

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Ramonda’s Choice”

Summary: Ramonda Matela makes a choice that changes the course of Wakandan history forever.

Finally! My Ramonda fic is finished! Enjoy because it’s long! Please reblog, comment, share etc, because that is the only payment I require.

NSFW. Some smut. Angst. My usual stuff!

"With every passing moment Thoughts of you run through my head Every time that I'm near you I realize that you're heaven sent, baby I think you're truly something special Just what my dreams are really made of Let's stay together, you and me boy There's no one like you around…"

Tamia – "So Into You"

Ramonda Matela knew the Udaku brothers like the back of her delicate hand from childhood to adulthood.

T'Chaka Udaku was the gregarious extrovert: arrogant, vain, and the elder statesman of the two. N'Jobu was the introverted one who observed the world with inquisitive eyes, a quiet nature, and a smoldering confidence that was less flashy than his older brother, but just as appealing nonetheless.

Ramonda was in the middle of their age group, meeting both boys at the same time when she was thirteen and dreaming about becoming a Dora Milaje. The palace had an extravagant fourteenth birthday celebration for T'Chaka out in the royal garden that was so exclusive, that Ramonda almost didn't get invited herself. It was by sheer luck on her mother's part in nabbing coveted invitations. Saffra Matela knew the head gardener who oversaw the royal grounds, and he was the Godfather to Ramonda and her younger brother, Khosi. L'Wazi had twenty years of service to the royal family, and he emboldened his throat to ask for permission to allow his Godchildren to attend the festivities and have the one opportunity to see the layout of the garden estate. He was granted permission and their household received the invitation on exquisite linen paper laced with pure gold and purple satin trimming on the envelope.

She squealed when the personal invitation sat in her hands, and she traced languid fingers across the gold-embossed words that lifted in a heavy Wakandan script from the paper.

"You are cordially invited to the Umgidi of Prince T'Chaka Milani Udaku…"

Fourteen was the age of manhood for Wakandan boys and after the birthday celebration, Prince T'Chaka would be whisked off to initiation school near Warrior Falls where all fourteen-year-old boys went for thirty days, only returning from the rites of passage retreat wth a new status as young adult men.

Ramonda couldn't wait for her version of the event. Her parents saved money for three years to prepare for her upcoming intonjane and the celebration that went with it. T'Chaka was lucky, his parents could afford to have a combination birthday and rites of passage party. Every night she counted down the days of the royal celebration. Her mother sewed her a lilac dress from a pattern Ramonda begged her to make, and her father purchased plum-colored diamonds for her neck and ears. Her maternal umakhulu twisted her hair into an elaborate cascade of thick textured layers that made her neighbors snap tons of holo pics when she was picked up with her brother by her Godfather L'Wazi.

They brought a hand-crafted citrine gilded filigree of a golden jaguar made by their father as a gift. It stood two-feet tall in a fancy silver gift box and Ramonda held onto it so it wouldn't fall to the floor in the back of L'Wazi's vibranium powered car. Nervous and a bit anxious at being around so many nobles and royals for the first time, Ramonda's godfather was a natural charmer and had everyone thinking that Ramonda and her brother were nobles from the Panther tribe because the Queen of Wakanda, Zintle, greeted him with such affection. Eyes wide and full of wonder at the dazzling purple dress and matching isicholo of the queen, Ramonda stood frozen in place with T'Chaka's gift in front of her while introductions were made.

"I see you love purple as much as I do," Queen Zintle said. She touched Ramonda's ears. "What lovely plum diamonds. You have wonderful taste for such a young age. L'Wazi tells me you have so many interests and hobbies. Tell me, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

"Queen," Ramonda blurted out.

But that was not what she meant to say. The exact words Ramonda practiced in her head just in case anyone asked her was "To become a Dora Milaje for the queen." However, the dazzling smile and elegant beauty of Queen Zintle flustered the young girl, and made her forget the first seven words in her sentence before the word "queen".

"Ohhhh, I see!" Queen Zintle said out loud for all the adults to share in the bold accidental declaration.

Queen Zintle winked at L'Wazi and then put a finger under her chin.

"Well, in order to become a queen of the nation, one must meet the crown prince. T'Chaka, come here! N'Jobu, you too!" Queen Zintle shouted.

Ramonda's cheeks warmed up like the tea on her mother's stove and she stood there mortified in her pretty lilac gossamer party dress and grown-up fancy jewelry in front of the mother of the nation. Two good-looking rambunctious boys trotted over with feisty giggles and a jovial shoving of each other as they approached the queen.

"I want you both to meet, Ramonda."

T'Chaka grinned at her with big white teeth, and N'Jobu lost his smile as he stared at her.

"Hello," T'Chaka said, his voice bold, colorful and a little bit creaky from puberty.

Ramonda lowered her head in a polite bow.

"Hi," N'Jobu said.

Ramonda lowered her head to him too and then forget to raise it back up. Both boys were so handsome and she was not prepared to be up close and personal with royalty so soon.

"What is in the box?" T'Chaka asked, touching the gift Ramonda brought.

"That is for later," King Azzuri said, stepping forward with a flock of admirers following behind him.

Ramonda's heart beat so rapidly like hummingbirds fluttering around inside her chest. The king's powerful voice was like a sudden booming of thunder from out of nowhere.

"Why is she still bowing?" N'Jobu asked.

Ramonda raised her eyes and the first-born prince smiled at her again and she could not fathom the emotions that swirled inside of her. She was two feet away from the future king of Wakanda and her friends back in her neighborhood would not believe that she had spoken to him.

Wait.

She hadn't said anything yet.

Royal drummers beat out a steady rhythm to announce entertainment, and when Ramonda finally straightened her back, she watched the shaggy-headed king and graceful queen lead away a procession of adults. Her brother ran off with the two princes to check out the stunning colorful acrobats flipping and flying through the air in the distance above the surging crowd of guests.

Left alone as two servants lifted her gift for the prince to join the hundreds of others on a raised dais, Ramonda touched her heart to make sure she was still alive as the beginnings of a crush developed for Prince T'Chaka… and Prince N'Jobu.

"Hurry up, you silly girl!"

Sixteen-year-old Ramonda stood on a flat wide rock ledge and peered down into the cool, dark blue waters of Warrior Falls. Laughing voices echoed all around the enclosed part of the natural pool that sat far enough away from the actual waterfall.

T'Chaka called out to her again, teasing her for not jumping into the depths like the others had moments before. There were six of them there. T'Chaka, N'Jobu, Ramonda, and their three school chums, Zhari, Sitha, and Imbo. Everyone swam in the pool except for Ramonda. She had a fear of dark water and the inky depths below the surface frightened her. The others frolicked in the cooling liquid counteracting the blistering sunlight that roasted all their skin into dark ebony hues. N'Jobu was the only one who treaded water in front of her, beckoning for her to join them with his hand outstretched for her. T'Chaka had encouraged her to jump in holding hands with him and she thrilled to the touch of his warm fingers threaded with hers. But she panicked and he became annoyed, leaving her to dive in head-first with the others.

"You won't drown, Ramonda. Holy Bast, you know how to swim for goodness sake!" T'Chaka shouted.

The two other teenage girls and boy watched her with T'Chaka and smirked at her fear.

"Ramonda, it's okay. It's not that deep," N'Jobu whispered to her.

"Don't stand there all day!" Zhari yelled, tightening the braids on top of her head with a hair tie.

Warrior Falls was a sacred place and they weren't supposed to be there desecrating the waters with their loud splashing and wild frolicking in the nude. Skinny dipping was something they started doing as a group the previous year and the risqué behavior was something Ramonda liked because she had the chance to look at T'Chaka naked. He had a beautiful physique and began to receive the delicate scarification rites that would prepare his body for ruling. Fresh symbolic cuts had been made on his pectoral muscles and on his stomach, marking his future ascension to the throne. The wounds had finally healed and his dark mahogany skin looked like a work of masterful art. T'Chaka preened and strutted like he ruled everyone already and it sometimes annoyed Ramonda because he was so much more than that when they were alone. He was sweet to her, and patient, but not then, not in front of their friends he liked to show off for.

N'Jobu had no marks on his body.

As the second son, he would receive no special cuts or the same treatment as his brother. The weight of the nation would never burden his shoulders like his brother. He was the spare royal, born into wealth and power, but would never harness it for himself… unless, of course, something happened to T'Chaka. Perhaps that fact made him the way he was with people. Unpretentious. Self-deprecating. Down to earth. His soft puppy eyes looked up at her and she still couldn't unfreeze her legs or stop her heart from palpitating, looking down into the void. If she could just see the bottom, she would be able to leap and join the fun.

Clenching and unclenching her fists, she relaxed her hands and stepped away from the ledge,

"I can't," she whispered.

"It's okay. Sunbathe and relax. Read a book," N'Jobu suggested.

Ramonda nodded and headed back to her folding chair where a fluffy yellow towel protected her skin from its heat. Stretching out her body, she watched her crew swim away toward the hidden caverns they would explore. She read a book about gemstones, her latest hyper fixation, and dozed off.

An hour later, she woke up to a wet tongue sliding around her right nipple. Opening her eyes, she blinked several times from the brightness of the sun and found T'Chaka's head dipped down to her plum-sized breasts. She glanced around to see if their friends were watching, but they were alone.

"Relax, everyone is still exploring the caverns," he said.

He lifted her off of the chair by her hands and wrapped his arms around her. Their naked forms melded together, and he kissed her with so much passion that it took her breath away. Rubbing her lower back, T'Chaka sighed into her mouth.

"I'm sorry for teasing you," he said.

She lowered her gaze to his chest and traced her fingers along the embedded half-moon-raised scars that marred his flesh.

"You always make fun of me when I'm afraid of something. You know dark water scares me. I don't know why you insisted on coming here. We could've gone to the beach or Pearl Lake. There's the palace pool—"

"Everyone wanted to come here. I didn't want to leave you behind. You would've been upset with me if I planned a trip leaving you out… even if I did it to protect your phobia," he said.

He nudged her chin to raise her eyes to his.

"Still mad at me, love?" he asked.

She tapped her fingers on his collarbone.

"Are you?" he pushed.

"It hurt my feelings," she said.

He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, and her chin, his special way of begging for forgiveness. She crinkled her nose and twisted her lips to pout, seeking more affection from him. He stroked her dark twisted hair that fell to her shoulders and nibbled on her earlobe.

"I don't want to hurt your feelings. I love you," he said.

She stared at him, her heart nearly flying out of her throat. He grinned, flashing those pretty teeth and a lupine smile.

"Say it again," she squealed, jumping up and down in his arms.

"I love you, Ramonda Matela. I have loved you since you told my mother you wanted to be queen and take her place on the throne so you can rule the nation—"

"I did not say all that back then!" she said, smacking his chest.

He pressed his forehead against hers, scooping her elbows into his chest.

"You have to take a chance sometimes and push against your fears. I will never let anything bad happen to you… ever," he said into her mouth before kissing her.

T'Chaka pushed her against a grainy wall of red rock and slipped his tongue into her mouth. He palmed her breasts, tickling her nipples with flicks of his fingertips. His left hand trailed a line down her flat belly to her warm mound. He palmed his hand into the shape of her vulva and held her gently as he gave deep, slow kisses. She moaned into his mouth once he went further and fingered her clit, spreading her natural sticky lubricant all along her sensitive folds. He pushed open her labia, allowing air to hit her damp opening before he dared to insert a finger. Her body stiffened. It was the first time he had ever tried to do that with her. The furthest they had gone with her body was the slow delicious fingering on her clit until she came. That was usually hit or miss because she was still learning her body with him. Sometimes he could make her cum and sometimes he couldn't, depending on how relaxed or tense she was.

Ramonda grabbed his arm when her opening resisted the push of his fingers inside of her.

"Relax, I'm moving slow," he whispered into her ear.

"I'm too tense," she said, gritting her teeth with discomfort.

"You need to relax so you can enjoy it… I'll go slower… like this… see… I'm almost in there all the way," he huffed.

T'Chaka's dick was hard and pushed against her thigh, the tip already spewing pre-cum. His steady breathing turned into heavy panting. Ramonda tried to relax, but once she focused in on his pleasure instead of her own, she tightened up down there and his fingers hurt.

"Stop, it doesn't feel good anymore," she said.

"Okay," he said, removing his index and middle finger and placing them back on her clit.

He rubbed gentle circles and pressed into the swollen nerves, but Ramonda couldn't find pleasure in it anymore because she was so worried about disappointing him. She faked an orgasm and stroked his dick for him, forcing him to splash cum all over the rock wall. He shouted with pleasure and hugged her afterward.

"You always make me feel good," he said.

He grabbed her hand and dragged her to the ledge again.

"Jump in with me. I will hold your hand. If you get scared after we get in, I'll lift you out," he said.

Ramonda could see the love in his eyes for her. He wanted to share everything with her.

"I don't want to jump. Can we just sit on the ledge and just… drop in?" she asked.

"Of course!" he said.

They sat down together, and he kept holding her hand. He kissed her knuckles, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. There was something so young, sweet, and innocent about them being naked together out in nature.

"On the count of three… one… two… three…," he said.

They scooted their rumps together and plopped down into the chilly water. Ramonda shivered from the cold until her skin became accustomed to the temperature. T'Chaka clapped his hands for her and snuggled with her near the ledge, their legs pumping furiously below the surface. She eventually swam away toward the middle of the pool and felt more confident with him next to her. The others returned, impressed that she finally braved the water. N'Jobu gave her a thumbs up and she had her chance to frolic and gossip while cooling off properly.

T'Chaka summoned a spider jet to pick them up on the other side of the falls and a pilot flew them toward Birnin D'Jata to have a late lunch before the two princes had to return to the palace. Everyone had to sport large shades to avoid the intrusive nature of the Wakandan paparazzi who snapped holo pics of their group dining in an expensive restaurant.

T'Chaka waved goodbye to them all once they arrived at the palace. A royal shuttle took the rest of them home and Ramonda floated to her room in a daze. The future king of her country loved her. She twirled around giddy and tapped her kimoyo beads to tell her besties the good news.

Ramonda caught them in the shadows of the tearoom when she ran back to fetch a headscarf for the queen.

T'Chaka had pretended to seek his brother in the royal garden and would see her at his mother's private art reception inside the second palace. The queen, forgetting a simple teal silk scarf, brought Ramonda face-to-face with her lover's infidelity.

She stood in the shadows with tattooed geometric red shapes on her bald head designating her status as a Dora Milaje guard for the queen as T'Chaka inserted an uncovered erection inside of a woman he insisted was the head of his new conservation project in the Border Tribe lands. He grunted and humped the full-figured woman, pushing her up against a wall with her curvy thigh resting over his arm. Pulling out his dick for a guttural climax, he ejaculated all over the woman's vulva.

"Bastard!" Ramonda shrieked, running from the room without the queen's scarf.

She ran smack into N'Jobu, who carried a tall stack of old texts, knocking them over.

"Ramonda," N'Jobu said.

Flustered, she dropped down to help collect the books with him. T'Chaka rushed out and his secret tryst was revealed to his brother, too.

"Let us not make a scene, Ramonda," T'Chaka said.

He stroked the hairs on his new goatee as his lover dashed off in embarrassment, avoiding eye contact with Ramonda. Had N'Jobu not been there, she would've knocked T'Chaka on his ass with her sonic spear. N'Jobu positioned himself between the two of them, sensing the rage coursing through her fired-up body.

"Leave us," T'Chaka said to N'Jobu.

"I should scratch your eyes out!" Ramonda screamed.

"You are on duty and will do no such thing," T'Chaka said.

The sweetness he once carried in his teenage face so long ago didn't stay with his mid-twenties demeanor, and a part of Ramonda knew that the halcyon days of their youth would change once they grew older and adulthood wiggled into the equation. They had kept their love affair quiet, but Ramonda trusted he would be faithful as she took on her additional responsibilities as a Dora. All her life as a child, she dreamed of wearing the shaved head, regal-looking uniform, and garnering the respect of her family and peers for such a prestigious honor. Her grip on the sonic spear tightened, and she lifted it an inch off the floor. N'Jobu blocked her from T'Chaka.

"Mother is waiting for you," N'Jobu reminded her.

Ramonda stomped into the tearoom and collected the scarf she came for.

"I hate you!" she hissed at T'Chaka, storming past him.

He chased her down, and they stalked through the halls side-by-side.

"I messed up," T'Chaka barked.

"It's over."

"It doesn't even count as cheating. We are on a break, remember? Your new assignment changed things. You told me—"

"I told you my work would keep us apart at times and we should concentrate on our duties until I was settled in my position. That was not me saying we were on a break."

"I misunderstood—"

"Liar—"

"Watch your tone with me!"

He snatched her arm and pulled her into an alcove for privacy.

"I am still a royal and above you in rank and status. While you are on duty you will address me as the Prince of Wakanda."

"Fuck you… your highness," she spat.

She left him behind and wiped away the tears that leaked from her eyes. Reaching the queen, she handed over the scarf and took her place among the other Doras. T'Chaka pretended to be interested in attending his mother's social event so he could be near Ramonda, but she ignored him. Queen Zintle's gracious nature dazzled her guests, and the artwork was astounding. Over one thousand guests packed the gallery, and Ramonda kept her concentration on protecting the mother of the nation. T'Chaka's regretful stares didn't penetrate her cooled heart. How she wished she had been on assignment with the king in America. Discovering her man in another woman's arms was the last thing she imagined happening in her life. Would it have been better to not know in a foreign country, or walk around like the biggest fool in Wakanda with the revelation?

There were signs of his unfaithfulness in the past year.

She ignored her intuition, hoping she was wrong about her man. After college, they went their separate ways for one summer as she trained to become a Dora. Their love was too strong to stay apart, and they found themselves together again, more in love than ever, until they handed her final assignment to her. Working for the queen. It shifted their relationship because Ramonda was out and about in public all the time. She committed to five years with the queen before she'd have to be rotated in duties or discharged from the corps, and it put a damper on their time together.

The eldest prince walked around the art gallery being charming, keeping himself in her constant view. Hurt washed over her in waves that grew in intensity until her eyeballs felt like they were cooking in their sockets from the heat of her anger. Her temples throbbed all night. He took advantage of her words. Used them as a loophole to fuck someone else. Perhaps two others. There were women he had around that she was not familiar with personally, and she chalked that up to his extra responsibilities as the Black Panther. They had given the mantle to him right when she became a full Dora. The added complication of their important work and love life clashed. They hadn't slept together for a few weeks because of travel and the various events the queen was in charge of while the king was away for conferences and the U.N. general assembly meetings in America. T'Chaka was left behind to protect Wakanda in his father's absence, and Ramonda was grateful that the prince would be home and not abroad.

A lanky woman with twisty black hair approached T'Chaka in a way that was too familiar and Ramonda grit her teeth. So be it. If he thought he was single, she would let him be that. A hot pain brewed in her stomach and she clenched her jaw until N'Jobu swept into the room. The younger prince looked like a dream in a cranberry and crème colored tunic and flowing pants. He had spruced up for the event after bumping into the scandalous affair of his brother. Ramonda's jaw relaxed watching the royal sibling make the rounds of greeting guests.

"Mother," N'Jobu said, kissing his mother's cheeks.

Queen Zintle beamed, having both of her sons present. N'Jobu positioned himself beside his mother, but close enough to Ramonda.

"It would be wise to finish my brother in private and not disrupt the queen's gala," N'Jobu said with a playful tone as her eyes glared at T'Chaka like hot spikes ready to carve him into pieces.

"The Wakandan streets can have him. We are no more," she whispered.

"You only say that because you are hurt. Look at him, doing his best to impress you," N'Jobu whispered back.

T'Chaka was all smiles, but he kept looking over at Ramonda with worry in his eyes. N'Jobu's cloying cologne shifted her attention. Standing close to him, she studied his profile, and a feeling came over her that should've stayed hidden. Her attraction to him bubbled up quickly.

There had been public gossip about N'Jobu's dating recently. He stayed discreet, but there were rumors of him courting two noblewomen from distinguished families vying for a chance to snag him. Ramonda hoped he went for the sweet one with the wide eyes and the adorable wide nose who made him laugh in all their holo pics together in the media. He liked plump women with personalities and they appeared to be a good fit from what she knew of their relationship.

"I am ready to retire," Queen Zintle said to all four Doras protecting her.

Ramonda tapped her spear, signaling the queen's departure from the event. She helped lead the queen out into the hall where a new set of Doras met them for a change in shift. Free from her duties for the night, Ramonda scurried down a palace hall that led to a private elevator for staff to leave the main rooms. The other Doras followed her, chatting about tired feet and wanting to sleep for hours.

"Ramonda,"

N'Jobu called to her before she stepped onto the elevator with her co-workers. The doors slid shut, and she faced the younger royal. Released from her work, Ramonda's body trembled with vexation as she fully processed T'Chaka's deceit. Her kimoyo lit up with T'Chaka's avatar signature and she ignored it. N'Jobu watched her expression and chuckled.

"Let's go have a drink before you run off to fight him," he said.

T'Chaka appeared down the hall and she balled up her fist, ready to punch him.

"Can we talk, please?" T'Chaka begged.

"I think you should let her cool down first," N'Jobu said.

"This is none of your concern, baby brother. I want to talk to my woman."

T'Chaka clasped her hand and Ramonda shook him off and turned away.

"We can't even talk?" T'Chaka whined.

"Go away. I can't even look at you!" she said. "I'm working my ass off protecting your family and you're running around fucking women all over the palace. You disgust me."

"You broke up with me."

"No, I didn't!"

"Okay… okay you two. Stop. Take a breath—"

T'Chaka threw up his hands at his brother and spun on his heels, leaving in a huff of entitled indignation.

"Brother," N'Jobu called out.

T'Chaka ignored him.

"Did you know?" Ramonda asked.

N'Jobu's bottom lip smooshed up into his top lip and Ramonda sighed.

"I didn't think it was my place to speak. I'm not privy to your personal interactions on that level," he said.

She waved a hand at him.

"Don't beat yourself up. I always suspected there was something off about us. I just didn't want to see it… not like that."

She rubbed the deep crease in her forehead and closed her eyes.

"Maybe I did make him think we were on break. I put a pause on so much to do well in my work."

"Don't second guess yourself. Clearly, you thought you were still connected, or else you wouldn't be so distraught. I'm sorry I said nothing to you. I try to stay out of his way. Being the Black Panther has puffed him up."

"Does that drink offer still stand?"

He grinned.

She pretended to escort him to his quarters and, once there, she placed her spear against the wall and pulled off her work boots. He loaned her a long caftan to change into after she took advantage of his luxury shower that overlooked a terrace with a view of the golden city that was spectacular.

N'Jobu mixed their drinks from his private bar stash and they sipped together, leaning against the terrace railing. The liquor hit them both hard on empty stomachs. She needed the feeling. It protected her heart from breaking.

"What will you do?" N'Jobu asked.

"Work. Become the best Dora Milaje there ever was. I'm living my dream. Your mother is an exceptional woman and I am so blessed to lay my life for hers if I ever need to."

N'Jobu reached over and stroked her cheek.

"Hopefully that will never happen. You would be a significant loss to me."

Ramonda took a step back and gulped down her third glass of hard spirits. She willed her legs to walk to her spear, grab it and her uniform, then vacate the premises, but she stood there and allowed his fingers to linger on her skin.

"Maybe breaking up with him is best," he said.

"Maybe."

His eyes captivated her, while his hand cradled the back of her neck and pulled her in closer.

"I think we've had a little too much," she said, holding up her glass like a talisman to ward off the arousal stirring within.

"I don't think we've had enough," he said.

She became so aware of herself naked under the caftan. Strange to think that for years they'd swam nude together as teenagers, but at that moment, a thin bit of material made her feel more naked than she had ever been in front of him.

"He doesn't deserve you. Never has," N'Jobu said.

"Why are you saying this when you know I'm feeling vulnerable?"

"What better time to tell you how I feel than now? When you're finally free?" he countered.

"This is too much. Goodnight, your highness—"

Warm arms with powerful muscles enveloped her, pulling her close to his broad chest.

"I'm sorry. This liquor has loosened my tongue, and I have dishonored your feelings," he said.

His touch caved in her will to leave his side. The urge to get back at T'Chaka with someone else raced up her spine and tilted her head up to look at the second prince with desire. Thrusting herself against him, Ramonda kissed N'Jobu and gave in to feelings that hovered beneath the surface between them since childhood. Her world had been upended and giving into her lust for T'Chaka's brother felt like the right thing to do.

Their lips sought an agreement on who would lead, and N'Jobu gave Ramonda control of the encounter. Full fleshy lips painted stories across her mouth before moving to play sonatas on her neck and clavicle. She arched her body, giving him room to explore, and he lifted the caftan off of her, tangling her hands. He nibbled, licked, and kissed his way to her breasts, circling each pebbled nipple with the tip of his hot tongue, bathing her areolas with saliva and promises of more.

Ramonda moaned and buried her fingers in his thick curls that smelled of sage wood and bitter root hair butter. His tongue slid further until it reached her clipped mound, slathering the area with more warm saliva and tender kisses. He parted her folds and teased her clit with artful, long swipes of his eager mouth muscle and looked up at her face. N'Jobu's lips glistened with her arousal and the slick feel of his lips on her forced a whimper from her throat. He took that as the signal to go further, resting his tongue against her slippery folds, before sucking on her clit again. She pulled his head back by his hair.

"We can't," she said.

"We can… we will," he replied.

He stood then, revealing an erection through his garment. Pulling it over his head, his length bobbed with pre-cum spilling out from the deep slit of a wide head that ran down the thick ridge surrounding his tip.

"Come," he said.

He led her to his bedroom and tapped the top of his fireplace to make a small fire appear, making the room cozier. The firelight flickered, and she glanced around his private space. Books were in various stacks on every open surface. English-language books and non-fiction texts about America surrounded them. The Udaku brothers were already fluent in three languages other than English. She herself was taking a crash course in American standard to prepare for away trips with her work.

His unmade bed had a small pile of poetry books resting on an unused pillow. He lifted them away and added them to his nightstand. Reaching for her hand, he settled her on the edge of his bed and sat next to her. The doubt in her eyes clouded his.

"If you don't want this, I will understand," he said.

He cupped her chin.

"I won't pressure you," he said.

Her rational mind finally made an appearance. She scooted away from his warm thigh.

"I'd only be doing this to spite him," she said in a harsh tone.

"So spite him."

"I would be using you."

"Use me."

"This isn't right. You're his brother. My friend. I can't sink lower than him."

N'Jobu's eyes were shiny beacons reflecting the crackling fire.

"I'm in love with you, Ramonda. I will never have a chance to be this bold again," he said.

She touched her right temple lightly and thought of a hundred reasons to walk away, but… she couldn't. T'Chaka stopped her angst by calling her again. Her kimoyo beads warmed up and his small avatar floated above her wrist. N'Jobu crashed his lips into hers with a sad desperation to keep her by his side.

"I love you," he murmured under his breath, his lips sending hot tendrils of pleasure all across her chest and neck.

He placed her hand on his dick and she squeezed it, wanting to know the heat and thickness before she jumped up with his pre-cum sticky on her fingers.

"We can't… I'm sorry. I love you too, but not the way you want…"

Ramonda ran out of his bedroom and gathered up her uniform and boots. She dressed quickly in the living room and grabbed her spear. Praying to Bast, she hoped no one saw her leaving his quarters or looking suspicious while departing the palace. A mad dash to her vehicle in the underground parking structure had her out of breath and feeling loopy. N'Jobu had never acted that way with her before. She sensed a crush when they were children, but she thought for sure he would never cross a line over his brother. What a mess!

She used autopilot and sat back in her car, watching the cityscape whip past. Her condo was located a half hour away by car and she arrived home trembling with confusion. Stepping inside of her spacious floor plan, she locked her spear in its safety housing and nearly jumped out of her skin when T'Chaka approached her on quiet feet.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have some other woman to bed tonight?" she quipped, turning the living room lights brighter.

His royal attire was gone, and in its place was a basic loose-fitting pink shirt and white lounge pants. He stood barefoot in the middle of the room with his hands at his sides, looking defeated and sad. For the first time since knowing him, he looked vulnerable.

"I made a mistake, Ramonda. You were so adamant about work and duties and being apart. I really thought you had broken off our relationship. My love, I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you by seeing me like that. There's nothing serious going on with that woman. Just a fling to pass the time waiting for you to come back to me."

A quiver in his voice gave credence to his words.

"T'Chaka, I'm tired…"

She walked around him, hoping N'Jobu's scent wasn't obvious. Rushing to her bedroom, she removed her clothing and jumped into her shower, scrubbing so hard that her skin became irritated. Water ran down her bald scalp and she tilted her neck, allowing the warm liquid to rinse away tears and guilt.

T'Chaka stood in her bedroom doorway when she stepped out dripping nude, searching for a clean towel in her bathroom cabinet.

"I want us together," he said.

"Can we talk another time? I'm not… I'm not in the right frame of mind to deal with us."

A shimmer in his left eye brought her closer to him. Watery sadness threatened to drip down from his tear ducts.

"Mondie, I miss you. I barely see you anymore. I'm lonely without you with me. Being the Black Panther is difficult, knowing you don't need me anymore. I wish we could be like we were as teenagers… free. No responsibilities. Without you, I am nothing… not even close to being my best self."

He encircled her waist with his arms and pressed his cheek against the middle of her breasts.

"Please, don't throw us away," he said.

Ramonda cuddled him with her hands on his nape. His tears were warm droplets on her clean skin trailing down her belly.

"I love you, Mondie," he shuddered into her flesh.

His pet name for her soothed the ache in her heart. She lowered her head and kissed him, his lips frantic to connect with hers. Slow and lazy, she shared her mouth until he undressed, parting from her to get everything off until he was naked. Ramonda straddled him, gripping his hard dick, lining it up with her entrance. His skin smelled delicious, lickable, and all hers. Inching her way down on his erection, she grunted in her throat when she reached the fruit at the bottom.

T'Chaka's soft lips were slightly parted as he grew accustomed to having her ride him again. His pants and gentle groans pleased her. Clutching his strong back, she bounced on him faster. Images of N'Jobu tangling up her lovemaking. She squeezed her eyes shut, savoring the feel of T'Chaka inside of her, chasing away thoughts of his brother's dick weeping pre-cum in her hand. Ramonda slammed her ass cheeks on T'Chaka's thighs and he shouted her name. He threw his head back while praising her tight walls clenching him into submission.

"Yes… yes… yes…," he panted in her ear, fondling her ass cheeks while his warm breath stimulated her ear.

The woman he fucked in the tea room flashed in her mind, throwing off her rhythm. She adjusted her speed and thrust into his groin, bending him to her will. He began lifting her up and down, and gulping for air. His release was upon him., so she tried extending it by pushing him back on her bed and loving him slow and easy.

"Oh, Bast… oh… Bast!" he shouted, staring at her breasts.

The juiciness of N'Jobu's dick haunted her, and she stared across the room at her reflection in a wall mirror, drifting into a state of panic. Her pussy grew wetter thinking of the younger prince. The memory of his mouth on her folds catapulted her into murky waters. Watching herself fuck T'Chaka, she pretended it was N'Jobu and her walls spasmed. Her orgasm throbbed all over the future king's dick, shoving him over the precipice of release too.

"Mondie!"

He shoved his hips up from the bed and rooted himself in her depths. His body became stiff, and he shoved his face to the side, lost in his pleasure. His cum felt warm and thick, coating her walls. She collapsed on his chest and their sweat mingled and cooled quickly.

Butterfly kisses peppered her chest as T'Chaka showed his appreciation for their reunion. He helped her roll off of him and they stared at her ceiling, shoulder to shoulder. They fell asleep together in that position.

The next morning, they made love again. The parting of her folds relaxed her with his gentle missionary position. Afterward, he showered, and she stayed sprawled on her bed. Her kimoyo lit up with an encrypted code in the floating avatar. Facing away from the bathroom with T'Chaka singing off-key, she read the message.

"I love you."

N'Jobu's three words filled her heart with dread and longing.

Ramonda kept her distance from N'Jobu in private. Publicly, she did her job as a Dora and treated him the way she treated all the royals, with deference and respect. But he scared her sometimes. His eyes followed her whenever they were in a room together, and she feared everyone could see his feelings for her.

She made a mistake.

A year after his confession and their only sexual encounter, she gave into their lust for one another. It took place on her first and only trip to America with the queen. An East African delegation of women headed to the U.S. for a week-long women's conference. Queen Zintle was a guest speaker, and Ramonda almost didn't make the journey because her English skills were still very poor. The queen vouched for her to go anyway so she could learn on the job. Ramonda was one of the fiercest Dora Milaje, and the king allowed her to take the trip. She wore a translator to help guide her and felt comfortable leaning into the tech to help her along.

Ramonda hadn't expected N'Jobu to accompany his mother. A sudden change in plans had T'Chaka traveling with his father to Europe instead of the queen. Doing her utmost to stay above the carnal desires that always lingered around them, she picked a fight with N'Jobu to thwart his advances when she had a half day to herself to sightsee and play tourist. Exploring the rugged harshness of New York was going to be an anthropological experience for her. Americans were dangerous and odd. A deadly combination. New York was supposed to be the epicenter of their culture and it smelled like human waste and hot garbage the moment she stepped out onto the street to protect the queen and her son.

N'Jobu found it a fascinating place and went on day-long excursions, worrying his mother. He had the audacity to ditch his set of Doras on a subway by pretending he had to use the restroom. Queen Zintle fussed with him and forced Ramonda to escort him because he could never ditch her. N'Jobu went all out pretending to be upset with a babysitter, but the moment they hit the streets together, he gloated. It was her time off, but she didn't want the queen to worry and fret while trying to represent Wakanda.

"You are a stubborn rhino," she hissed as they rode to a museum.

"Do I look like I fit in?" he said in English.

She stared at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. His English was impeccable and there was no trace of an accent. He winked at her and stuffed his hands in a puffy black jacket that was a stylish New York trend in the city. His hair was clipped short and tapered in a style that fit in with the Black Americans on the subway.

"I do!" he said with enthusiasm.

She rolled her eyes, and he pressed into her, using the crush of new riders boarding as an excuse to get closer to her.

"Yo, my man, back up from my lady," N'Jobu said.

Ramonda glanced to her left side and noticed a light brown-skinned man easing up to her with a large backpack draped on his chest. N'Jobu glared at him and the man moved through the subway to get away from the bass in the prince's voice. She couldn't get over how comfortable he was speaking the language.

He grabbed her hand for the next stop at the American Museum of Natural History and dragged her out of the subway.

"Where are you going? The museum is over there," she pointed.

"Plenty of time to see that. Let's go for a walk," he enthused.

The excitement on his face made her smile.

"An hour's walk, and we'll come back," he offered.

They never made it to the museum.

N'Jobu entertained Ramonda with stories of his travels in Brooklyn and Harlem, speaking to her in his flawless English. Her earbud translator missed a few phrases, but he allowed her to practice openly and didn't chide her for mistakes in pronunciation. The city's ugliness transformed into a lesson in American culture through his eyes. He fed her giant salty pretzels with mustard, had her try a greasy pizza slice, and then took her to Central Park. Hours flew by. On their way back, he took her to a discreet hotel to rest in private. Watching American news together was depressing. Nothing positive happened in the country. Murder, poverty, racial tensions, and government failures dominated the airways and Ramonda switched over to her kimoyo beads to check on her homeland and all the amazing progressive programming they had for their news streams. N'Jobu seemed fascinated with the Americans. His eyes never left the flatscreen as story after story piqued his interest. Ramonda grew bored.

"We should leave," she said once the sun slipped down from the sky.

"No rush. You're not back on until morning," he said, relaxing on the king-sized bed across from the chair she lounged on.

"I have to check in with T'Chaka," she lied.

His expression changed with his lips pouting in frustration.

"You don't have to lie to me," he said.

"I'm not."

T'Chaka hadn't responded to the last four messages she sent, so wrapped up in being around his father. A bit of worry whispered to the anxious part of her brain with him being so far away.

"Okay, let's go then," he said.

He checked his kimoyo, swiped some code, and grinned.

"What?" she asked with curiosity.

"Made some plans. Grab your sweater," he said.

"Plans… where? With who?"

"Dinner with a friend."

They left the hotel and journeyed down to the subway. Ramonda fidgeted in the seat next to N'Jobu, wanting so desperately to know who he was seeing.

"Here's my stop. You can continue on back to the hotel on your own," he said.

He plunged through the crowd and exited with ardent strides to his next destination. She followed him down several blocks until he arrived at a hole-in-the-wall spot stuffed with chatty diners. He took a seat in a far corner booth. Ramonda spied on him from outside, but he sat alone for fifteen minutes. His date must've stood him up. She walked inside the restaurant and surprised him at his table. With hands on her hips, she stood ready to tease him until he pushed a menu on the table toward her.

"I hear the seafood here is delicious. It took you long enough to come inside," he said.

Flummoxed, Ramonda sat across from him on an uneven chair that rocked slightly when she moved closer to the table.

"You tricked me into having dinner with you?" she said.

"Not exactly. You want to be around me… don't shake your head… following me here lets me know you have feelings for me."

"Your safety is important—"

"I can protect myself with my vibranium shield. You were jealous and wanted to see who I was with. Admit it."

"I love T'Chaka."

"I know you do. But you love me too."

"Absurd."

"Why? Love is a powerful emotion that transcends time and space… history, even. It is limitless, and sometimes it does absurd things like put you in my heart… and my brother's."

"You are a mess."

"Then leave."

Ramonda stood up. Then sat back down abruptly. N'Jobu reached across the table and held her hand.

"Fate has brought us all together. You love my brother. Dearly. He has all the trappings that women want. But a part of you wants something different, just like me."

"The boldness from your lips—"

"I never pull punches. You know that. Give me one night. That's all I ask. If you don't feel it's right after that, I will fall back and let you trot after him."

"You make me sound like some lovesick puppy."

"You are a lovesick puppy with him. But it's not a good balance. I could give you a life, too. It may not be as flashy and far-reaching as my brother, but I sense a longing in you, Ramonda. You want to live a full, unrestricted life and you can't do that if you become the queen of Wakanda."

Her cheeks warmed up. Talk of becoming the queen was wishful thinking, considering T'Chaka hadn't proposed or even brought up marriage.

"This tension between us could go away if you stayed with me tonight. Last year, when we were together… I've never forgotten how you tasted or how you felt in my arms. You ran off before we could consummate our union fully, but I know you still dream about that. I know there are times you are with my brother and you wonder what it would be like with me. Give in to that and we can see if I'm being a fool for you."

"You are a fool. I am too, for sitting here and entertaining any thoughts of that. It is a betrayal—"

"Alls fair in love and war. This is a battle for the rest of your life."

She pushed away from the table with a queasiness souring her stomach and mouth. He spoke the truth. She loved them both for different reasons, but since she accepted T'Chaka's advances so long ago, she wanted to remain loyal. N'Jobu had plenty of time to claim her hand, but he didn't. His loss.

Ramonda turned down dinner with N'Jobu and wandered the streets for an hour. She caught a cab back to the luxury hotel they were hosted in with their entire Wakandan delegation. Inside her room, she showered and called T'Chaka on her kimoyo, but he still didn't answer directly. There were messages left for her, and he sounded bored and irritated at the European trip. He hated the outside world and how primitive it acted compared to their homeland.

Unable to relax fully, she showered, changed into casual clothes, and stared out of her window. Checking her kimoyo, she noticed the Wakanda media posting photos of T'Chaka in France, posing with international women who attended the same event as him. He wore a broad smile in all the pictures. The ones with his father were nice as they stood near the Eiffel Tower with a group of government officials. Wakandans back home gossiped about when the eldest prince would marry. She hated conversation threads like that because she couldn't scream to the world that he was her choice. Until T'Chaka made an official proposal, Ramonda was nothing to him. Just his secret lover hidden in the shadows until he stepped up to the light and made them official. For all she knew, his parents could arrange a marriage for him in the future to someone else. The queen had discussed family alliances in her presence with the king before.

Grabbing her room card key, she ambled down to the hotel lobby bar to get a drink and commiserate all alone over what her life would be in the future. The longer she sat and sipped, the fuzzier her mind became. Hailing a cab from outside, she returned to N'Jobu's secret hotel, tipsy and unstable on her feet as she knocked on the door. He answered. Naked.

Wasting no time by overthinking it, Ramonda pounced on him, smashing her eager lips over his thick, willing ones, and they tumbled back into his room and onto the bed. She wanted a fast fuck, a way of getting it over with and out of her system so she could erase N'Jobu from her mind, but his hands ruined her. He held her still, slowing their progression.

"No," he said.

"What?" she asked, breathless and agitated.

"You will not give yourself to me like this. Like I'm some chore for you to complete."

Pushing her away, he sat up from the bed and palmed his forehead.

"Leave," he said.

Naked and warm by his side, Ramonda stared at him with a puzzled expression. Her lips quirked and the creases in her forehead tightened her face.

"This is what you wanted," she spat out.

She shrank away from him.

"You're only toying with me. Is this to shame me? Test me?" she screamed.

"Lower your voice."

She slapped him. Twice.

N'Jobu closed his eyes and curled up his lower lip when she struck him there. She burst into tears.

"Oh, Bast! Why did I even come here?!" she wailed.

Raising from the bed, she wiped her eyes furiously, then held up her wrist draped with her kimoyo beads.

"I'm going to tell him," she threatened, "I'm not worthy of him."

N'Jobu leaped from the bed and held both her wrists.

"You are worthy," N'Jobu said.

"No, I'm not… I wouldn't be here if I was…"

Ramonda went limp in his hands and N'Jobu held her up, gripping her arms tight.

"I'm sorry, Ramonda. I don't want you to hurt, but this is more than I can bear. I love you and want you… but I can't force you to do anything you don't want. I want to see you happy."

She nodded and let her tears drip onto his neck as he held her close.

"I wish one of you was just awful so I could move forward in peace. You're both… perfect in your own special ways…" she moaned in his ear.

She pulled back from him. His eyes bound her to him.

"This will never go away. I'll love no one else but you for as long as I live, Ramonda."

The love in his eyes bathed her in warmth. Touching his face, she thought of all the times N'Jobu had stayed quiet behind his brother in all things. His family cherished him, but the reality was a more blatant truth-teller: T'Chaka was the favored one. He was destined to lead the nation and N'Jobu would forever be in the wings, watching and hoping to be noticed.

Ramonda kissed him, letting her tongue dance in his mouth. She shed away all the years of viewing N'Jobu as her friend and T'Chaka's side-kick. At that moment, he was to become her lover for the night. The elder prince was thousands of miles away, and once she was back in Wakanda, she would pretend nothing happened in America.

Lush lips explored her body.

Ramonda reclined under N'Jobu and allowed his mouth to savor every inch of her body. He took his time, the soft pads of his fingertips tattooing unspoken words onto her skin. Lifting her legs and dropping her cinnamon brown thighs open, she watched him fist his length, the swollen mushroom cap of his tip dripping pre-cum. She held her breath at his girth, stretching her, and only released it when he planted himself deep within. Slow and meticulous, he made their lovemaking last a long time. Soft murmurings and gentle pants spilled from her mouth. He grunted a few times and locked eyes with her throughout. His thrusts arched her from the bed and she threw her arms around his shoulders to tether her passion in that room. She had to keep it locked there forever, never to be opened again.

But it was.

Again and again.

Returning to Wakanda didn't quench their thirst for each other. It inflamed their lust. Not only did their passion ignite… so did her ardor toward T'Chaka.

Ramonda became insatiable. Loving both men in secret. In fact, her sex with T'Chaka became even more intense and more pleasurable. She worked her job well, rising in the ranks of the Dora Milaje, and becoming the head Dora for the king. Her mind hid the niggling doubts about how long she could sustain juggling two men. She spent most of her time with T'Chaka, but he traveled often with the king. On those occasions, N'Jobu would come through. She had learned to balance her affections with him, but he increasingly grew reckless with her love. Wanting more from her than she was willing to give. Despite her behavior, T'Chaka meant the world to her, and she held N'Jobu back from making future plans. The Dora Milaje was her priority over everything. He kept pushing, and she stopped seeing him. Cut off their affair and never looked back.

It all came to a head many years later when the king died.

King Azzuri was already middle-aged when he married Queen Zintle. She was a few years younger, but Wakandans tended to marry later and have children later in age, too. The culture believed in having full lives before settling down. Azzuri died peacefully in his sleep with his wife by his side, and although it was a sad occasion, there was no time for the queen to mourn when she was set on putting T'Chaka on the throne quickly.

Ramonda had entered a new phase of her career, training young Doras. The news of the king's passing came directly to her from T'Chaka. He arrived at her small house with a weary expression early in the morning.

"My father has transitioned, Ramonda. He is with the ancestors now."

T'Chaka sat at her kitchen table when he told her, and she hugged him until he wept. Wiping away his tears, it surprised her to see him smile.

"He lived a good life. A joyful life. I want that for us. I was hoping he would be around to see our first child together," T'Chaka said.

He held out a small satin purple box.

"I was going to wait until after winter when you finished training your latest recruits. But now, Baba is gone… and I will be king. I need my queen by my side."

Ramonda couldn't hide the shock from her face.

"Will you marry me, Ramonda Matela? I know this isn't the most romantic way to do this, but the way I feel, nothing is more special than now."

Her emotions were all over the place. Learning of the king's passing rocked her, but being asked to become a wife too was staggering. T'Chaka fell to his knees and held the box out to her. She took it, popped it open, and they both stared at the delicate blue diamond-crusted gold band. He lifted the ring and held it at the tip of her ring finger.

"Ramonda?"

T'Chaka's soft voice prompted her to smile and nod. He pushed the ring far back onto her finger and clasped her hand before burying his face in her lap and weeping profusely.

"Thank you, my love," he said between tears.

She held him, rubbed his back, and said soothing things about his father before he raised to his feet again.

"I would like for you to come with me to the palace. The family is gathering together for the press announcement. Queen Mother is waiting for us."

Ramonda showered and dressed quickly, choosing a long pale blue dress. Pale blue was the king's favorite color, and she wanted to pay tribute to that. She ran a light oil over her baby locs and put on make-up. The Royal Talon Fighter floated in front of her house and her neighbors were outside watching and wondering why it was there.

They flew over the golden city and arrived inside a hectic palace. The severity of the passing hit her. Nothing would ever be the same again. The gravity of her thoughts were reflected to her as the palace staff worked non-stop. The Dora Milaje escorted her and T'Chaka to the queen's chambers. Close relatives were already there. N'Jobu stayed by his mother's side with a grim expression. Queen Zintle's eyes shined with tears, but they became shinier when she saw the ring on Ramonda's hand.

"Daughter," Zintle said, holding Ramonda's finger up to admire the engagement ring.

N'Jobu's face became unreadable. Ramonda couldn't bear being near him. They hadn't been intimate for a long time, and there was enough distance in that for her to ignore his disapproving glare. She focused on the bereavement instead, hugging the queen and greeting the rest of the Udaku clan. T'Chaka introduced her as his fiancé with pride. Ramonda rested in that pride, wishing that they had been connected like that years before.

She avoided N'Jobu and took part in the mourning period, which lasted weeks. Plans were already in the works for T'Chaka's coronation and the presentation at Warrior Falls. She wondered if other tribes would test the new king, but there was no word on any challengers to the throne. Ramonda planned for a summer wedding that would take place once T'Chaka was crowned. The palace kept her busy with lessons on protocols and her new role as a future queen. Zintle was over the moon. Keeping busy with a wedding helped ease the loss of her husband. They spent hours on the design of Ramonda's wedding dress and royal isicholo and fussed over what foods to feed the guests. The queen showed Ramonda what would become her new home in the palace with T'Chaka.

Her life became an open book to the palace, and N'Jobu's words came back to haunt her. She wouldn't be free anymore. The needs of the king and the Council of Elders would dictate and control every aspect of her life. Ramonda belonged to the people and not herself anymore. The weight of that pressed down on her shoulders.

A few days before challenge day, Ramonda wandered the halls of the palace alone, taking in the beauty and thousands of years of history that rested within that structure. Meandering out into the royal garden to get fresh air, she came across N'Jobu walking near a gazebo overlooking a pond. He noticed her before she could slip away.

"Hi," he said.

She lowered her head, and he shook his.

"You are about to become royalty yourself. No need to defer to me anymore, Queen Ramonda," he said.

He pointed toward a bed of water lilies.

"Right over there, you told my mother you wanted to be the queen one day. You finally got your highest desire," he said.

"I hope we can be civil," she said.

"Why wouldn't we be? Instead of a lover, you will become my sister."

Ramonda stepped closer to him but kept a respectful distance.

"I will challenge him," N'Jobu said.

"No," she said.

"I will."

"Please don't do that. Your mother just lost her husband. She doesn't need to see her two sons fighting over the nation."

"Fighting over the nation? Do you think that's why I want to challenge him? Stop being silly."

"I chose him. It was always going to be him."

"It doesn't have to be."

"Things have changed… I've changed. Please, don't do this."

"I can do what I want."

"You're being spiteful. I'll tell him everything. Confess it all!"

"You think he doesn't already know? Maybe I told him myself."

Her heart fell to her feet.

"You didn't…"

"Marry me."

Ramonda pressed her right hand into her chest.

"Did you tell him?" she demanded.

N'Jobu's blazing eyes glared at her. Her eyes welled with tears. His face softened.

"I have not."

She covered her face with her hands and exhaled loudly.

"Please. Let me be with him in peace, N'Jobu. Don't tear apart this family over me."

"You're asking me to live without my heart. How am I supposed to survive without that? Eh? What do you expect me to do, fade into the background like always? I am tired of being second in your life."

"We are over—"

"We will never be over. You can marry him and fulfill your role as queen, but you will always itch to come to my bed. That is a fact."

"Don't fight him. If you love me, let me have this. Don't destroy the family."

"If you marry him, you will destroy me."

"I'm sorry."

She fled the royal garden, blinded by her watery eyes and fear.

"Ramonda."

She slammed into T'Chaka near his quarters, and he hugged her.

"What has you so upset?"

"I was thinking of your father… in the garden. The memories came back when I looked at his favorite lilies. I'm fine… really… it's hard letting go. I grew up here and around him. He was like my father, too. I wish he could see us marry."

"Me too," T'Chaka said.

Her heart thumped in her chest, and the lump in her throat swelled as more tears leaked down her face. What if N'Jobu killed T'Chaka? What if everyone found out it was her fault?

T'Chaka held her for a long time. All of his love flowed into her. The fear never left.

At Warrior Falls, Ramonda stood next to the queen as the royal shaman beckoned challengers to step forward. The elderly woman wore long, dark royal purple robes, and held out a long staff that she pointed toward each tribe's representative who was eligible to fight T'Chaka. Two men and two women stood in their tribal regalia, deflecting their eyes from T'Chaka, who knelt down in the cool water, shirtless, covered in dark body paint, waiting to see who had the nerve to step to him. Hundreds of witnesses crowded the sacred site, hoping for something to pop off. The energy in the air crackled with intensity and anticipation.

"Anyone?" the shaman said, her glittery eyes encouraging bravery.

Ramonda's eyes cut to her left as N'Jobu shifted his weight on his feet. He leaned forward and Ramonda nearly lurched from her spot to stop him. Their eyes met and locked. She trembled and her lips parted. N'Jobu lowered his gaze and kept his head down.

"I present to you all, King T'Chaka Udaku!" the shaman said.

Ululations and drumming rang out as the shaman placed a panther claw necklace around T'Chaka's neck.

"Wakanda Forever!" the people shouted.

Ramonda closed her eyes and shoved her hands to her lips to hide her relief. The crowd genuflected to T'Chaka, and he held his hand out toward Ramonda. She lifted her dress and stepped into the sacred water to greet the new ruler. He kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear.

"One day, our child will stand here to rule the nation. Don't you ever forget this day because we shall see it again," T'Chaka said.

They stepped on board the Royal Talon Fighter to do a flyover of the city before heading to the banquet and ball back at the palace later.

The day flew by fast. There was the Council of Elders' special ceremony for the king and then greeting all of his kin privately before they had a break to change clothes and prepare for the evening festivities. Ramonda had her hair in long braided extensions decorated with shells and gold hair jewels. Her elaborate orange ball gown was presented to her by personal handmaidens, and she allowed them to bathe, perfume, and pamper her for the night. Once dressed, she presented herself to the king, and the audience of guests praised her beauty and charm. The coronation turned into an engagement party as the queen brought in gifts for the couple. The whirlwind of activity gave Ramonda a taste of what life would be like with T'Chaka. All eyes were on them.

Ramonda took a private respite to walk outside on the long bridge that connected the double palace. The cool air blew across her face and hair, rejuvenating her spirit. N'Jobu walked past her on the bridge, his steps brisk. He ignored her completely, which was surprising. The Queen Mother came out onto the bridge with her personal Dora.

"N'Jobu! Come back!" Zintle shouted to her son.

"What's wrong?" Ramonda asked.

"He's being foolish. Maybe you can talk some sense into him," Zintle said.

Ramonda gathered up her gown and followed the angry prince.

"N'Jobu."

He stopped at an elevator and jabbed at the call screen.

"What is going on?" she asked.

"Did Mother send you?" he said.

"She said you were being foolish. What have you done?"

"I'm leaving Wakanda."

"Leaving? Leaving to go where?"

"I'm going to be a War Dog. If I can't have what I want here, I will go away."

"Breaking your mother's heart is what you're doing."

"Don't talk to me. Go back to the party and live it up."

"You stubborn man!"

She gathered up her dress and huffed away. He snatched up her arms and shoved his lips against her ear.

"Come with me," he pleaded.

Ramonda shoved him from being so close to her on the bridge exit.

"I want to hate you so much… if I could hate you…" he said.

The doors to the elevator opened, and he fled her side to jump on it. She ran after him, jamming her arm through the doors before they closed. Riding up to his floor with him, Ramonda stayed quiet.

"You won't truly be happy. I wish you well, though," he said.

"And you are making a decision in haste and under duress. Your father just died. The nation is in transition. Queen Zintle needs you here."

"I cannot stay here any longer. I will not be at your wedding next month."

The elevator doors opened on his floor. N'Jobu stepped out and faced her. The lights from his floor made his skin look like the precious ebon stones from the edges of Warrior Falls. His nostrils flared with his intention to escape the palace.

"Do you really want to be a spy?" she asked.

"I know how to blend in anywhere," he said.

He tilted his head.

"Do you even want to be a queen?" he asked.

"It is my destiny. According to you, it is my greatest desire."

He gave her a slight smile, then stroked her face.

"You are truly a queen at heart, Ramonda. You will serve the country well."

He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"Next lifetime then," he said, before the elevator doors closed.

Ramonda saw N'Jobu one last time before he took a War Dog assignment in Oakland, California.

T'Chaka stayed busy adjusting to being king and left Wakanda before their wedding to take part in a summit that his father was supposed to preside over. Left alone in the palace with the queen, Ramonda prepared for marriage and decorated her new wing of the palace, making it cozy for T'Chaka's return. His presence at the summit cemented his place on the global scene. He was a colossal hit with Americans and the EU, and this pleased the Queen Mother and Council of Elders. T'Chaka's leadership would continue the great legacy of the Udaku rulers.

She invited N'Jobu for tea with his mother and he was pleasant and funny, making Ramonda relax. The sweetness he held blossomed all over their afternoon together. Zintle wanted to be supportive of her youngest son, but becoming a War Dog was a heavy burden for any family. N'Jobu had military training and the skills to do well overseas. Pretending to be a Black American seemed like such a simple job and so beneath his skill set. He appeared excited and his mother accepted his new pursuit.

They left her home in the early evening, and she cleared away their teacups and dishes without her servants. Spending time out on her own terrace, Ramonda rubbed her arms to self-soothe and watched a quarter moon rise. Her kimoyo beads lit up.

T'Chaka.

"I miss you," she cooed at her fiancé's floating avatar.

T'Chaka smirked and gave her a pretend smooch by puckering his lips.

"I miss you more. I'll miss you even more in the next few weeks. They have invited me to present in Switzerland at a consortium."

Ramonda pouted.

"Patience, my love. Oh, before I forget, did you have the tea gathering with Mother and N'Jobu?"

"I did. It went well. Queen Mother is upset that you won't be able to see him off."

"I will see him when he does his first check-in. Don't worry. I'll be with you soon enough."

He ended their call, and she went back into her parlor room. N'Jobu left T'Chaka's small parting gift on a side table. She picked it up and stroked the blue ribbons and decorative wrapping around it. Ramonda knew there was a ring inside. A black and silver ring that belonged to King Azzuri and was made as a set for both sons. T'Chaka wanted his brother to have the ring before he left the country and entrusted it to Ramonda. She hurried out of her suite to give it to him.

N'Jobu had a few bags packed and by his suite door when she arrived. He answered her knocking with a grin on his face.

"You forgot this," she said.

He took the gift and opened it, slipping the ring on his finger, and they both marveled at how regal it looked on him.

"There are only three rings like this ever made. We buried one with my father. T'Chaka has the other. I have this one," he said.

"Take care of yourself, Prince N'Jobu," she said.

"Farewell, Queen Ramonda."

They stared at each other for a very long time until he kissed her mouth.

After marriage, life was kind and fruitful.

Ramonda gave birth to a son, T'Challa, and she had never seen a man lose himself over his child before. Her T'Chaka spoiled and coddled the baby boy so much that she had to fight for time with her own child to breastfeed him. Never a prouder father had existed before King T'Chaka. Their son brought the family closer together over the years, especially when N'Jobu disappeared.

His last check-in had been when T'Challa was nearing thirteen. After that, there was an attack on Wakanda by a colonizer named Klaue. T'Chaka lashed out for answers as to how a white man could enter and exit Wakanda. Those were dark days, and the king leaned on Ramonda for support. Hundreds of Wakandans lost their lives on the border and T'Chaka swore to find the perpetrator no matter how long it took him. Soon after, they lost track of N'Jobu. Ramonda and Zintle pestered T'Chaka about his whereabouts, fearing the worst. The king stayed elusive and cryptic, telling them the work was a part of national security. Zintle visited the royal temple daily, burning incense and praying for her youngest son. Ramonda joined her on the days that T'Challa wasn't busy with school or activities. All three of them would kneel at the temple in front of a small black marble statue of the Panther Goddess holding long incense sticks, praying to Bast that N'Jobu would be found alive.

T'Challa asked about his uncle and Ramonda soon learned to change the subject until T'Chaka confessed to believing the worst, too. N'Jobu must've died on the job and was lost to their family forever. There was no official burial and T'Chaka forbid anyone to discuss N'Jobu in front of Zintle. He was simply missing in action under the official record.

Ramonda wept in secret often. The stubborn fool had gone out and gotten himself in trouble. All just to escape from seeing her with his brother. Lamenting over his fate, Ramonda's son helped bring her out of too much sorrow. He was a brilliant, growing boy who needed a mother's full attention. Especially since he had developed a crush on a young girl named Nakia.

Years marched on.

T'Challa became a young man, and Ramonda had a daughter to tend to also, little Shuri. The world moved on without N'Jobu.

Then the world moved on without T'Chaka.

The news came to her from T'Challa as he stood in front of a damaged building in Sokovia that a bomb attack had felled. Through smoke and tears, her beloved son told the sad fate of the king of Wakanda.

Broken down to her knees, Ramonda screamed her grief. She lost two men she loved in tragic ways.

"Mother… my wonderful mother… do not worry. I am coming home," T'Challa said.

His grief slashed lines across his forehead as he wore his father's ring.

"Come home, my son. Bring your father to me," Ramonda told him.

She trekked through the palace moaning her sorrow. Shuri held her arm, weeping, and Ramonda gathered the strength to be a rock for her precious baby girl. T'Chaka had been a lion for the nation. After their marriage and the birth of T'Challa, he rose in stature as the global leader the world needed. She created a life with him that put the needs of Wakanda first and they led the nation as no other royals had ever done in the past. Their War Dogs kept them abreast of the pulse of other nations and T'Chaka walked with the power of knowing how to bend the world in protection of his people.

"Mother, it's time. T'Challa is here," Shuri said.

Ramonda looked at her youngest child with loving eyes. Seventeen and full of spunk and confidence like her father.

"Let us greet the new king," Ramonda said, clasping her daughter's warm hands.

A phalanx of Dora Milaje surrounded Ramonda and Shuri as the Royal Talon Fighter gently landed on the Talon Port. A ramp slid out from the aircraft and T'Challa walked with the swag of his father. Nakia was by his side. Ramonda closed her eyes for a second to thank Bast for his safe return. She held her head high in the colors of dawn, her isicholo tall on her head, fingers clasped together. Her daughter stood next to her, watching T'Challa walk with General Okoye. The Dora Milaje crossed their arms with respect in the traditional Wakanda Forever salute, but protocols and salutes meant nothing to Ramonda. Her son was home. She bowed her head slightly to thank Bast, and then her feline eyes sought the child who would soon become king.

"Queen Mother… Princess," Nakia said.

The Wakandan spy bowed in the colors of her tribe, her head wrapped and her eyes downcast before Ramonda.

"My comfort for your loss," Nakia said.

Ramonda noticed her son could not stop looking at the River Tribe woman who grew up with him. Holding her queenly stance, Ramonda grinned at who she hoped would become her daughter-in-law soon.

"Thank you, Nakia. It is so good to have you back with us," Ramonda said.

Okoye addressed Ayo.

"Take her to the River Provence to prepare her for the ceremony," Okoye told Ayo.

"Yes, General," Ayo said.

Nakia walked toward another aircraft behind Lieutenant Ayo and once more Ramonda's son tracked her with longing in his dark brown eyes. Shuri fidgeted next to the queen.

"Did he freeze?" Shuri asked Okoye with playful aplomb.

"Like an antelope in headlights," Okoye offered with teasing eyes.

The embarrassment on T'Challa's face made Ramonda soften inside. She understood the feeling he wore on his handsome face. Shuri laughed, making her brother uncomfortable because of the open desire in his eyes.

"Are you finished?" T'Challa demanded of his first in command.

Okoye's teasing eyes fluttered across to the queen, and Ramonda held her head higher, trying to diffuse the ribbing her son was taking so poorly. Okoye tapped her spear and all the Dora Milaje turned in perfect formation to enter the palace, leaving the Udaku family alone.

"So surprised my little sister came to see me off before our big day," T'Challa said, holding his arms behind his back.

"You wish!" Shuri challenged. "I'm here for the EMP beads. I've developed an update."

"Update? No. It worked perfectly," T'Challa said.

Shuri pursed her lips, then cajoled her brother.

"How many times do I have to teach you? Eh? Just because something works doesn't mean it cannot be improved," Shuri said.

Ramonda caught the unsaid teasing name-calling in her daughter's tone.

"You are teaching me. What do you know?" T'Challa said.

He handed over his EMP beads, and Shuri palmed them.

"More than you," she chided.

"I cannot wait to see what kind of update you make to your ceremonial outfit," T'Challa called out.

Not seeing her daughter from behind, but knowing her well, Ramonda tilted her head back and called out to Shuri, who more than likely had her middle finger up.

"Shuri!" Ramonda shouted.

"Sorry, mother!" the princess called back.

Ramonda gazed at the man before her. Thirty-three years ago, Ramonda gripped her birthing chair and squeezed T'Challa out to the world in a rush of blood and prayers. He was the light of T'Chaka's life, the future beacon carrying the hopes and dreams of Wakanda. The world was much too cruel to deny T'Chaka the chance to see T'Challa take the throne. N'Jobu too.

Ramonda fought back the tears that loomed so close. The past created a reckoning that she swallowed down.

"How are you feeling today, Mama?" T'Challa asked.

Ramonda quelled the broken parts laying inside of her spirit. Deception and regret had no place before her son.

T'Challa had his eyes. His temperament. His smile.

"Proud," she said as T'Challa entwined his hands with hers. "Your father and I would talk about this day all the time."

A lie.

"He is with us… and it is your time to be king," Ramonda declared.

N'Jobu's son smiled at her, and Ramonda stroked his cheek. The past was the past. She made her choice and had to live with the outcome. Alone.

N'Jobu's son, not T'Chaka's, would become the king of Wakanda.

The secret she held for thirty-three years would never have to be revealed. T'Challa would go to Warrior Falls and defeat anyone who challenged him. The two men she loved were dead and gone. The living would carry on. Ramonda would carry on.

"Your grandmother is waiting to see you. Come, my son," Ramonda said.

She led T'Challa inside the palace. The family would live on in peace now, Bast willing.

Author’s Note: Betcha y’all will look at the Black Panther movie different now, lol!

Tag List:

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes​

@nessa41890​

@impremenior​

@tchallasbabymama​

[phenomenal1500]

Under The Influence | Erik Killmonger

Chapter 3: ~Non-Business Related~

For Chapter 2: ~Burn It All Down~ click here.

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

"You heard the king-...." She felt a lump form in her throat and repeated the order to the other shamans so they would finally take action, burning the whole garden while Killmonger observed the landscape to make sure all of them would be burned down.

"I'm sorry my kings." Ven whispered softly while watching all the beautiful flowers turn into ash.

~~~

Killmonger stared at the huge flames in front of him, his mind lost in deep thoughts while letting go of his anger. Ven on the other hand had her eyes closed.

She couldn't watch what she had done.

"Your highness?" Her voice came out as a whisper while her eyes remained shut.

"Hmm?" He kept his eyes focused on the massive fire, but hummed to her to show that he was indeed listening and she could proceed.

"We should go back to the palace." She turned around so she could walk to the exit, but he stopped her with a strong hand wrapped around her wrist.

"In a minute." Killmonger didn't sound so aggressive anymore, not even a little angry, and she nodded slowly.

It felt like he was struggling with something at the moment and she looked up at him.

"Something wrong, my king?"

"Nah, I'm good." He shook his head and let go of her. "I just want to stay here for a little longer."

"As you wish." Ven bowed with her head and joined him watching the temple burn up in flames.

~~~

The cold night breeze sent shivers down Venery's spine as they walked through the royal gardens back to the palace and she rubbed her upper arms, trying to keep herself warm until she suddenly felt the weight of a heavy robe being dropped on her bare shoulders.

"I~.... Thank you...." She stuttered and wrapped the black robe tighter around her.

"Don't think much of it." He smiled a little and helped her inside and into the elevator. "So.... we're supposed to trust each other right?" He stared at the elevator doors while he tried to start some small talk since it got awkwardly quiet in there.

"Yes, we are." She confirmed and looked up at him, his dark chocolate eyes meeting hers.

"In non-business related conversations like this one, just call me Erik then." Erik smiled in a friendly manner, revealing his attractive dimples and she smiled back weakly.

He didn't want to give her a hostile impression of himself because that would never ever make her join his side and so his plan was to try and gain her thrust in a friendly way.

"Okay then, Erik." His name felt weird on her tongue somehow and she bit her lip.

"What's the matter? Can't get personal with your king now?" He tilted his head and raised his brow in a cocky way, watching her through the elevator's mirrors. "Because if I remember it correctly, you were being extremely close to your former weak ass king so it wouldn't be such a problem to do that once again right?"

"No.... it's just.... I don't know you that well and it feels unprofessional." She stuttered a little and held onto the robe tightly, still not really liking how he was talking about T'Challa.

"Don't worry princess, I'm giving you permission." He noticed he made her feel intimidated and slowly let go of his attitude. "Besides, I said only in non-business related conversations so no one else will hear you calling me by my name except for me."

Ven nodded slowly and then walked out of the elevator once it's doors opened for them, happy she could get some fresh air and create a small distance between her and him. It wasn't that she was scared of Erik or didn't trust him, but that exactly was the thing that scared and concerned her. She wasn't afraid of him. She did trust him. And that all when he had killed her best friend and a man that was almost like a father to her, to almost everyone. It was sickening to her that she had forgiven the man so quickly after he had done all those things.

"Erik....?"

"Mhuh." He opened the door to his bedroom and signed for her to come in as well which she did without hesitating.

"May I ask you what you saw back in the Ancestral Plane?" She played with the sides of his black robe and nervously waited for an answer to follow.

Erik slowly sat down on his bed with a sigh, the same hurt glance filling his dark eyes when he lowered his head. It took him a moment to decide whether he was going to tell her about his past or not, but then understood his adviser was supposed to be there for him and help him and so he ran his hand through his wild dreads before looking back up.

"My father." He spoke with a softer tone and she understood right away it was a sensitive subject. "He had plans to share the weapons of Wakanda with the rest of the world so that the African Americans who had so little power could defend themselves, but he never got the chance to do so because of my uncle. That fucking man had killed my daddy while I was playin' some basketball outside. He could have taken me in but instead preferred to leave me to die on my own."

"I'm sorry." He stared at his folded hands again and suddenly felt the huge mattress sink beside him. "That was never allowed to happen to you." The woman appeared to be sitting next to him and she laid her colorless hand on his folded ones.

"It's fine." He unfolded his hands, slightly pushing away her hand because he didn't want her comfort right now, and hid his hurt self away behind his confident face. "I will succeed for my father and my people."

"And I will help you achieve that goal." She added quickly. "It is perhaps already my oath to do so, but I also truly believe it's a good motive and that it will perhaps even help Wakanda's defenses and economy as long as this is all about keeping peace of course."

"I'm not planning to start a dictatorship princess, don't worry." He smirked a little and let himself fall back onto the soft bed, his arms tucked behind his head. "So what about you? How did you end up as the king's adviser in Wakanda because I know you aren't truly Wakandan."

"It's a long story and pretty difficult to explain...."

"Well, try it anyway. We got time."

"I don't believe we have." She watched her Kimoyo Beads light up and she opened a long message that was sent to her. "It's our new schedule for tomorrow. I should already be preparing things."

"It's 2 AM right now." He narrowed his eyes, feeling like she wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible even though that wasn't actually the case.

"I start real early sometimes.... or end real late." She got to her feet and bowed with her head. "Get some rest, my king. I will see you in the morning."

"Ven." He pushed himself up with his elbows. "You owe me your past girl."

"I know and I will tell you it when we have time, you have my word." He nodded at her and laid back down, watching her walk away.

Ven gently closed the door behind her once she left his massive room and then started to check if everything was alright before going to bed herself too.

The next morning, the woman was already up before everyone else was and stepped out of the hot shower. She wore a long white satin dress with spaghetti straps and a long split on her left side and let her hair hang loose over her bare shoulders. For today she left her make up alone, not really feeling like doing her eyeliner or lipstick and she crossed the hallway, knocking on Erik's door to wake him.

Erik had just come fresh out of the shower and lazily wrapped his towel around his waist, not bothering to get dressed before opening the door. "Hey, princess."

"Um, hey...." Her golden eyes landed on his muscular chest, water droplets sticking to his swollen muscles in a hot way.

He had probably worked out before he took his shower as his muscles were perfectly visible.

"Have you received your clothing for today?" She was able to control her eyes again and looked at his face, his soaked dreads covering his eyes.

"Yeah. Let me get dressed and we can start our day." He winked at her when he noticed her glaring and took a step back, his towel unbeknownst to him sliding a bit down to reveal his v-muscles. "Give me a min, aye?"

"Yeah.... yeah I'll be waiting here." She awkwardly replied, catching herself admiring his body once again and he smirked a little before closing his door.

Ven exhaled the air she didn't know she was holding and closed her eyes, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hall while waiting for her king to get dressed. It didn't take long before he was done, wearing only the black sweats and the black coat she had handed him and keeping his dreads messy.

It seemed he didn't like wearing shirts or he was doing this to simply mess with his adviser.

"So what are we supposed to be doing, Ma?"

"You really like coming up with nicknames for me...."

"Mhuh." He gave her a single nod before raising his brow, still expecting an answer from her.

"Oh yeah, right-.... when we get downstairs there will be a guard waiting for you, ready to give a tour of the palace. Normally I would be doing that myself, but I have a bigger thing to take a part in."

"What kind of thing?" He stretched his neck a little, his dreads following his movements.

Ven opened her mouth but right before she could say anything someone called for her and she smiled, deciding to keep it a secret. "I have to go.... take the elevator to the second floor and you'll find the man, your highness."

[killchallahub]

Fic Rec: The Nation Under Our Feet by cutthroatfics

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14318445

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warnings

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Major Character Death

Categories:

F/F

F/M

M/M

Fandoms:

Black Panther (2018)

Black Panther (Comics)

Captain America (Movies)

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Relationships:

Azzaria Udaku/Steve Rogers

Azzaria Udaku/N'Gassi

Ramonda/T'Chaka (Marvel)

N'Jobu/T'Chaka (Marvel)

N'Jadaka Udaku/T'Challa Udaku

N'Jobu Udaku/T'Chaka Udaku

Erik Killmonger/T'Challa

Characters:

Azzuri (Marvel)

Erik Killmonger

T'Challa (Marvel)

N'Jobu (Marvel)

Ensemble

Additional Tags:

Slow To Update

Inspired by A Song of Ice and Fire

Udaku Dynasty

Politics

Wakandan Politics

Fix-It of Sorts

Worldbuilding

Wakandan culture

Religion

Trans Male Character

Trans N'Jobu

Trans N'Jadaka

Trans Erik Killmonger

Ancient Egyptian Literature & Mythology

afro futurism

Wakandan Religions

Soulmate-Identifying Marks

Alternate Universe - Soulmates

Soulmates

Mpreg

Eventual Smut

Slow Build

Slow Burn

Id Fic

Cousin Incest

Sibling Rivalry

Regicide

Political Alliances

Sibling Incest

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Gender or Sex Swap

Gender Identity

Gender Roles

Traditions

Isolationism

Globalization

Technology

Tags May Change

Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Moral Ambiguity

Minor Character Death

sound based technology

a pregnant transman is still a man my dudes and I had to defile the meta tags but it's true

space age technology

romantic fantasy

Summary:

Azzaria is a princess studying in the 1940s, N'Jobu is a prince and member of the Hatut Zeraze trying to leave home and T'Challa is a prince no longer after the tragedy of the UN Bombing.

Follow three generations of Azzaria-Udaku rule and the effects on Wakanda and world they bring about. It is a tale of longing, love and loss; of Damisa-Sarki and the Golden Jaguar, of a young queen who rises to heights unimagined and of man thrust onto the throne before he is ready.

It is the tale of the House of Azzaria-Udaku.

-

If you want an original take that blends the comics and the MCU universe for the ship, this is your fic, currently ongoing. 

[terrablaze514]

Black Panther Masterlist (4-03-19)

★We Built This City series★

Mystery Shopper? ((Erik-centric)) (for @wakanda-inspired) *Teaser*|*Official* 13+

We Built This City (multipart) eventual Redeemed!Erik + T'Challa *Teaser 1*|*Teaser 2*§∆ *1*2*3*4*5*6*7*8*9*10*11*12*13*14*15*16*17*18|AO3 version ∆§₱ 18+

Baby Jaguar Hype! (Baby!Erik, T'Challa+Shuri) (for @chaneajoyyy and @allhailnjadaka ) (1)₱ | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | AO3 | Pillowfort 1*2*3*4*5*6*7 | WordPress 1*2*3*4*5*6*7 K+ (Please be advised there's a brief smut mention in Part 1)

★Crawl Into Your Sleep series★

The Meet and Greet (oneshot) = M'Baku x Muse (for @muse-of-mbaku) *Teaser 1*|*Teaser 2*|*Official* 13+

Crawl Into Your Sleep (multipart) = Erik x Reader, M'Baku x Muse, T'Challa x Reader *Teaser 1*|*Teaser 2*|*Teaser 3*|Part 1 (Official) *2*3*4*5*6*7*8*9*10*11*12*13*14*15*16*17*18*19*20*21*22| Pillowfort link 1 | WordPress| AO3 version ₱∆ 16+

Angel In Disguise (oneshot) = Erik x Reader, M'Baku x Reader∆§₱ *Teaser*|*Official* 18+

Amethyst Necklace (oneshot) = Erik x Reader∆ Official | AO3 | Pillowfort | WordPress // With Love, From Wakanda for @purple-apricots and @hoopshoney \\ 16+

★Multiparts★

M'Baku’s Insane Adventures = M'Baku x OC, Evil/Pesky!T'Challa + Erik, Ayo x OC, shortlived Okoye x W'Kabi, tricky!Shuri § *Teaser 1*|*Part 1* (short, and somewhat angsty)§|*2*3*4*5*6*7|AO3 version 13+

Yawn Instead… = Erik x Reader (for @naomi-shambles and @ljstraightnochaser )₱ *Part 1*|*Part 2*| *Part 3*|*Part 4*|*Interludes*| AO3 version 18+

Umdlalo (M'Baku Wins) (1) (2) 13+

Tumblr After Dark Radio Show (featuring T'Challa, M'Baku and Erik) (1) 18+

★One Shots★

Social Media Woes = Erik x Reader (for @supersizemeplz)₱ *Teaser*|*Official* 16+

★Broken 4th Wall★

Disruptive Musings (Parts 1 & 2) 18+

More Disruptive Munsense (M'Baku Wins)

Trifling Munsense

When Adulting Sucks (M'Baku and Erik)

Disruptive Munsense - Hidden Episode (Erik & T'Challa)₱ 18+

Disruptive Munsense (Erik is RUDE!)

★HeadCanons★

Erik Stevens as a High School Teacher (Part 1) 16+

★Crossovers★

Death Returns (BP/GW Crossover) 18+

★Crossover HeadCanon★ (MCU/OUAT)

Upcoming Posts (to Tumblr, Pillowfort, AO3 and WordPress)

1) Team Up! (Shuri + Spider-Man) *WBTC*

2) Fight, Flight or Freeze? (Implied T'Challa x Nakia & past Erik x Linda) *WBTC*

3) Life Is a Parable (3 installments) = T'Challa + Erik, N'Jobu x OC, T'Chaka x Ramonda, Okoye x W'Kabi, Erik x Linda, T'Challa x Nakia, Shuri + Peter, M'Baku x OC, Erik x OC, T'Challa x OC, M'Baku + T'Challa (+ Erik) ₱§∆||Lost Sheep (1)(2)(3)(4)(5)(6)(7)(8)(9)(10)|Lost Coin (1)(2)(3)(4)(5)(6)(7)(8)(9)(10) | Prodigal Princes (1)(2)(3)(4)(5)(6)(7)(8)(9)(10)

LIaP HeadCanons => Waking Up In September | Betrayal | Familial Murmurs | “I will always find you!”

4) Disruptive Munsense (BP part 4)

5) Maintain the Lie (T'Challa’s POV). For @bribrisback *LIaP*

6) Growing Up Wakanda (Headcanon set)

7) CrazySexyCool Spin-off (Erik, T'Challa and M'Baku listen to TLC's album and have a debate) *CIYS*

8) Spice Up Your Life (starring Okoye, Nakia, Shuri and Ramonda) **Women's History Month Special**

∆ = Violence | § = Angst | ₱ = Smut

★Currently focusing on overdue oneshot WIPs (you'll see later on this month). Thanks for checking out my stuff! - Angel T.★

[killchallawishlist]

CANON DIVERGENT FIC PROMPTS

☐ Warring clans - Erik’s clan is exiled or  isolated like the Jabari Tribe - after a catastrophe, Erik comes to the  capital of Wakanda as there’s a power vacuum present. Erik hopes to improve  the prospects of his clan (by seducing T’Challa perhaps). I see this fic  primarily not set in the current MCU timeline. Can be a historical fic. ABO  optional

Submitted by @sweet-ice-perfume

 ☐ killmonger succeeds with his mission of  taking over Wakanda and keeps T’Challa as prisoner (smut if you want)

Submitted by @ fuxkswithme

 ☐ Erik is still alive and imprisoned in  Wakanda, but a huge crisis (Thanos/Infinity War?) causes T'Challa to set him  free so he will hopefully help Wakanda (or maybe even Earth) and they have to  join forces

Submitted by @staubengel  

 ☐ Erik’s body can be saved, but he just  won’t wake back up. T'Challa finds a way to travel to the Ancestral Plane  somehow (maybe the Herb grows back or they still have some somewhere?) and  searches for Erik there. He finds him, but Erik refuses to come back, because  he doesn’t want to be locked up forever. T'Challa keeps coming back to him to  talk to him, they fall in love, and Erik finally decides to come back with  him

Submitted by @staubengel

 ☐ Either T'Challa wins the challenge against  Erik (idk how, cause Erik surely won't yield and T'Challa can't kill him for  the sake of the story, but maybe there's a rule where the challenge can be  declared won by a party somehow?) or he refuses to accept the challenge  all-together, forcing the two to work things out a different way

Submitted by @staubengel

 ☐ T'Challa has just been crowned the new king. This means he is now told all the secrets the former king has kept from him. Like the attempted but failed assassination of T'Chaka that    T'Challa has never heard of before. He learns that the man responsible for this is imprisoned in Wakanda’s highest security cell and decides to confront him. That is how he meets Erik. And Erik has some other secrets to tell him.

Submitted by @staubengel  

 ☐ It’s tradition that the new king of  Wakanda is presented with a tribute from each tribe in the form of a  potential partner that the king can choose from. T'Challa chooses Erik  (however he ends up to be one of the potential tributes).

Submitted by @staubengel  

 ☐ T'Chaka gets killed far, far earlier and    N'Jobu returns from America to become King of Wakanda, taking his son Erik with him. The rest is completely open. What will N'Jobu do with his power?    How will T'Challa cope with the loss of his dad? What will the dynamic between T'Challa and Erik be? Etc. etc.

Submitted by @staubengel

 ☐ Fix-it / Erik lives 

Submitted by @starawr   or Arbor Mist (Peachy) on AO3

 ☐ King Killmonger AU

Submitted by @starawr or Arbor Mist (Peachy) on AO3

 ☐ Post-movie fic: What if N’Jadaka is welcomed to  stay in Wakanda *only if* he pledges loyalty to T’Challa, but he refuses to  do it so he is banished from Wakanda.  Erik would then continue what he was doing pre-movie (and T’Challa meets him  again later on? Has to stop him? He comes back with a better plan? Go wild).

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ Post-movie fic: T’Challa kills Erik with kindness. Or T’Challa is too nice and understanding and peaceful with N’Jadaka and he can’t support it, it hurts.

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ Post-movie fic: N’Jadaka and T’Challa are  together and wants to get married, but the majority of wakandans disapprove, some try to stop their marriage from happening in any way  possible.

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ N’Jadaka    raises a panther cub and manage to bring T’Challa into the parenting. Premise: Panthers are, as the symbol of Wakanda and    Bast, sacred animals in the country and are protected. One day a wakandan    finds an orphan panther cub and bring her to the court, because the court    would have to investigate the death of the mother to see if nobody killed    her. The panther cub stays in the palace in the meantime and N’Jadaka finds    her, not caring much at the beginning about her but then starts to interact    with her and grows attached to her. It could be the first thing that makes    him more open and cooperative with T’Challa, and she could be a sort of    animal therapy. N’Jadaka does have a pet leopard in the comics so it comes    in part from that, in part from me wanting daddies T’Challa & N’Jadaka.

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ N’Jakada is dead, he is in the ancestral plane  with his father. His spirit is lost and travels from one plane to the other  and he has to learn to “live” in the spirit world and face what he’s done. N’Jadaka would first appear after his death in one  ancestral location, either the Black Panthers location, or his dad’s, but  then, without him being able to control it, he’d find himself traveling from  one location to the other. Sometimes he’d be in the realm of the past Black  Panther, sometimes in his old apartment (and sometimes other places which  resonate from his past?). Eventually, he learns how the ancestral plane works  and how to manage the ancestral realm and explores the plane of the dead.  This story would preferrably at the same time explore Wakandan mythology and  a N’Jadaka character study. He would have a post-death character development,  driven by what he goes through and who he meets in the ancestral plane, and  by the fact that he can see T’Challa and the other wakandans live their lives  in the realm of the living. He would start to follow T’Challa’s life while at  the same time trying to control what he can do in the realm of the dead, and  could have some influence as a spirit, like pushing T’Challa to unconsciously  want to get to the ancestral plane to talk to him. Eventually, they would  meet and talk “in person”. (If anybody knows Sansukh, this would be similar  but set within the world and rules of Wakanda and wakandan mythology). Bonus for Bast & other  gods being a part of the story!

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ N’Jakada is dead and he is stuck in the  manifestation of his old apartment and T’Challa visits him. It would be T’Challa’s pov where he goes to the  ancestral plane and meets N’Jadaka and talks to him. And T’Challa and  N’Jakada’s relationship will grow there, to a point where T’Challa will ask  advices from N’Jadaka in what do to with the rest of the world/how to rule  wakanda and prefer his advices to his ancestors.  

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ T’Challa uses his newly acquired powers as King  of the dead to travel in the ancestral plane. He goes there to search for N’Jadaka’s soul among the  different realms/locations in the ancestral plane and bring him back to the  living, but he has a lot of difficulty finding him (a kind of an Orpheus and  Eurydice!AU + elements of BP comics).

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ They are both dead and nothing has been  resolved between them so they both fight each other for a very, very long  time. They fight for years in the ancestral  plane that has no concept of time, and then they finally realize that they  are both dead and fighting here is useless (so they have sex afterward?).

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ Erik was brought to Wakanda after his dad dies  and grows up there and becomes a War dog. He’s in a happy relationship with T’Challa they are even  married  but N’Jadaka has never abandoned his father ideals. He hasn’t  told anyone, not even T’Challa, but he intends to continue where his father  left off. He works as a double agent and tries to follow through with his  dad’s goal but instead of teaming up with Klaue he gives the vibranium  directly to oppressed people. It’d be a little like a spy intrigue with the  other War Dogs looking for the traitor in their rank but N’Jadaka is too good  to be found out. There’ll be also N’Jadaka ‘s conflicting feelings about how  he loves T’Challa but still has to continue what his father wanted. Bonus point for spy duo bff  Erik & Nakia.

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ Erik was brought to Wakanda as a kid but  instead of becoming a War dog he does something else because he had no choice  and the elders council doesn’t trust him to get out of Wakanda. So he lives in Wakanda  until he’s at the age he is  in the movie, and then comes to occasion where he has to go to the USA for  the first time in years. He has to face the reality of the US and feels guilt  and anger that he was prevented to do anything about it in Wakanda. And the  story goes on from there.

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ A short fic exploring what it was like for  kid!N’Jadaka to get into Wakanada. It’d  be about his first few weeks there, how he deals with the death of his  father, how he sees everyone, especially T’Chaka, and the country. And  focusing on a moment where T’Challa tries to befriend him/comfort him (he’d  be 5 years older in this). (gen obvs). Bonus point if the fic explore what  would happen to T’Chaka after he admits he killed his brother, what are the  protocols in these moment, would he stay King or not?

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ What if, like in the comics, N’Jadaka didn’t  put his cards out here from the start but  only asked T’Challa if he could come live in Wakanda saying he wouldn’t do  any trouble, but end up forming an insurrection against T’Challa by allying  wakandans to his cause. Bonus  point: What if he actually allied himself with M’Baku?

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ Everything is the same as in the movie, except  T’Challa met N’Jadaka during a trip to the USA when he was young and they  hooked up. None of them knew who the other was.  T’Challa thought it was a really hot hookup/intense summer love but moved on  and didn’t think much of it afterward. Then N’Jadaka comes to their doorstep  with Klaue’s body…

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ Pre-movie CIA agent Erik encounters T’Challa  sooner than he thought, during one of T’Challa’s diplomatic trip, in a fancy  bar. Erik decides to grab the occasion  that’s offered to him on a silver platter and seduces T’Challa so he can kill  him (T’Challa doesn’t know who he is). He thinks that it’s the better course  of action since T’Challa has always two Dora Milaje protecting him…except  when he’s sleeping with someone. T’Challa really gets into him and they spend  the whole week of T’Challa’s trip together. When it comes time to kill him,  when T’Challa’s guard is down after sex, N’Jadaka grew too attached to  T’Challa and hesitates (does he do it or not?). 

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ A fic where N’Jadaka comes in Wakanda earlier: when T’Challa just became the Black Panther, so 10 years  earlier.

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ That’s probably been done but T’Challa learns about the  existence of Erik sooner and goes to the USA to try to find him.

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ A fic based on something from the  comics. What  if T’Challa had to do the same rite of passage to become the Black Panther as  in the comics and had to travel by himself all around Africa and he  encounters N’Jadaka in one of those countries. He’d be in his  mid-20s (so that Erik can be 18) and at some point he meets N’Jadaka who has  been in the US Army for a short period at that point. They can meet in  friendly or not friendly terms depending on what N’Jadaka is doing in that  specific country.

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ Canon divergence, N’Jakada is raised by his  mother after N’Jobu dies, but *she* is the one who wants to go to Wakanda  after that. She thought that the Wakandan would bring her and  her son to the country after what they did, but they didn’t, so she’s angry  with them that they refuse to bring her son to Wakanda. “At least let my son  in” she told them, but they leave like in the movie. So she decides to go  there herself with him. It could be when he’s still young, or when he’s old  and they plot another plan to take the throne together?.

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ What if T’Chaka has monitored N’Jadaka’s life  after his father’s death,  followed him this whole time from afar? Feeling guilty? Or being worried?  Young T’Challa finds out.

Submitted by @mahalshairyballs

 ☐ Erik  lives

Submitted by @ nobunyaaga

 ☐ T’challa  yields at the waterfall

Submitted by @ nobunyaaga

 ☐ Erik gets  brought back to Wakanda as a child 

Submitted by @ nobunyaaga

 ☐ T’challa  finds out earlier and goes to find Erik in America 

Submitted by @ nobunyaaga

 ☐ THAT AU  WHERE T’CHALLA AND SHURI ARE THE ONES RAISED IN AMERICA WHILE N’JADAKA WAS  RAISED TO BE KING /HOLLERS 

Submitted by @ nobunyaaga

[killchalllla]

Forbidden Love

by K1nging

T’challa has had a crush on his cousin his entire life. It was easier to handle when Erik had abruptly moved away nine years ago, but now that Erik and his dad are coming to spend the summer with T’Challa’s family, how is he going going to contain this perverted emotions?

Especially since he’s engaged to his high-school sweetheart.

Words: 877, Chapters: 1/10, Language: English

Fandoms: Black Panther (2018)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Erik Killmonger, T'Challa (Marvel), Shuri (Marvel), Nakia (Black Panther), M'Baku (Marvel), Ramonda (Marvel), N'Jobu (Marvel)

Relationships: Erik Killmonger/T'Challa, Erik Killmonger & T'Challa

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cousin Incest, Pining, Jealous Erik, Falling In Love, Smut, Eventual Smut, Light Angst, Anal Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, slow ish burn, Romance, Drama & Romance

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/23647093

[ao3feed-starker]

by cutthroatfics

Azzaria is a princess studying in the 1940s, N'Jobu is a prince and member of the Hatut Zeraze trying to leave home and T'Challa is a prince no longer after the tragedy of the UN Bombing.

Follow three generations of Azzaria-Udaku rule and the effects on Wakanda and world they bring about. It is a tale of longing, love and loss; of Damisa-Sarki and the Golden Jaguar, of a young queen who rises to heights unimagined and of man thurst onto the throne before he is ready.

It is the tale of the House of Azzaria-Udaku.

Words: 1862, Chapters: 3/?, Language: English

Series: Part 5 of Marvel Universe: 2112

Fandoms: Black Panther (2018), Black Panther (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: Azzuri (Marvel), Erik Killmonger, T'Challa (Marvel), N'Jobu (Marvel), Ensemble

Relationships: Azzaria Udaku/Steve Rogers, Azzaria Udaku/N'Gassi, Ramonda/T'Chaka (Marvel), N'Jobu/T'Chaka (Marvel), N'Jadaka Udaku/T'Challa Udaku, N'Jobu Udaku/T'Chaka Udaku, Erik Killmonger/T'Challa

Additional Tags: Slow To Update, Inspired by A Song of Ice and Fire, Udaku Dynasty, Politics, Wakandan Politics, Fix-It of Sorts, Worldbuilding, Wakandan culture, Religion, Trans Male Character, Trans N'Jobu, Trans N'Jadaka, Trans Erik Killmonger, Ancient Egyptian Literature & Mythology, afro futurism, Wakandan Religions, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmates, Mpreg, Eventual Smut, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Id Fic, Cousin Incest, Sibling Rivalry, Regicide, Political Alliances, Sibling Incest, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Gender or Sex Swap, Gender Identity, Gender Roles, Traditions, Isolationism, Globalization, Technology, Tags May Change, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chapter 29″

"Oh my, time heals all but you outta time now (Now) Judge gotta watch us from the clock tower (True) Lil' tear gas cleared the whole place out I'll be back with the hazmat for the next round We was tryin' to protest, then the fires broke out Look out for the secret agents, they be planted in the crowd Said, "It's civil unrest," but you sleep so sound Like you don't hear the screams when we catchin' beatdowns Stayin' quiet when they killin' niggas, but you speak loud When we ride, got opinions comin' from a place of privilege…"

"Lockdown"-- Anderson.Paak

Califia stood before the march organizers and read off the things the group wanted to pass along to other protestors. Erik sat next to her on a chair and listened to her tick off each item.

"People should bring protective gear if they can. Goggles or sunglasses for pepper spray. If they have access, they can use the heavier gear for tear gas. Masks or bandannas for the face. Milk and water is good to have on hand to flush out the eyes if tear gas is used. Tattoos and other identifiable markings need to be covered. They should wear plain clothing or gear that doesn't have identifiable brands. A woman was arrested in the States because the Feds were able to trace a T-shirt she bought online at a specialty site. We have advised everyone to bring extra t-shirts and other clothing to switch out so they can disappear if surveillance photos are taken and the streets get hot. Confusing the enemy is the name of the game. We learned a lot from Hong Kong protestors in the past. Phones need to have GPS turned off and if possible, passcodes placed on them in case they are confiscated. No sharing selfies or uploading images…"

The list was long and her fellow organizers nodded in agreement with all the actionable items she shared.

Soliel stood next to her and read off her list of protest roles that would be fed out online to give everyone interested an opportunity to participate, especially those with disabilities and even those who wanted to march but were afraid of losing their jobs or being harassed by their own families.

"As long as we all fight in our own way, we can move this city and this country forward. The whole world. We expect the state to use whatever tools they can to make us look bad, so we must squash any groups that try to disrupt our peaceful march. There will be plants among us. We know this. But we can't allow them to bait us into a situation that would allow them to use violence against us. That is what they want. We'll have our shield soldiers briefed on how to defend us if the federals act out. Our flag bearers are young and move fast, so we will be made aware as soon as possible when the federals arrive in various locations. We have range soldiers, fire squads, and barricaders trained to act. There will be medics available, and as long as we follow our plans, we will have a safe and successful march," Soliel said.

Califia's chest eased with the tightness she had after talking with Erik. He listened on the chair and even asked a few questions about their safety if the police there took them to jail. They had bond pledges ready and lawyers on stand-by, but they hoped it wouldn't come to that.

When the meeting broke up, she walked outside to check on N'Jobu, Bakari and Besouro who opted to stand watch outside. As the organizers left their home, N'Jobu walked up and down the street. She worried that the spies sent to watch their house would take pictures of him, but he assured her that his kimoyo beads would mess up their tech. He planned on using a protective shield on her when they marched.

Besouro said goodnight, and her father and Bakari turned in for the night. She sat outside with N'Jobu and Erik.

"You feel comfortable?" N'Jobu asked her, tossing his arm around her shoulder.

"Yeah. I think we have it all down. The people just have to show up."

"How are you feeling?"

Looking into his eyes, she saw worry in them.

"Quiet…um…settled I guess. It's like the feeling I get when I used to dance at school. You rehearse and practice and understand your role, and now it just comes down to the performance. You hope things go well."

"They will," Erik said.

He sat on the small step that led up onto their tiny porch.

"Did we forget anything in there?" Califia asked, giving her son a smile.

"You had it all covered, Mom. Good job."

"Thank you."

His eyes glanced around the street. Then rested on N'Jobu.

"Baba, what's the matter?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about the march and us returning home."

Erik walked over to N'Jobu and rested his arms around his father's shoulders.

"I like having you around like this all the time. It's been fun here," Erik said.

N'Jobu stroked Erik's hands.

"I've enjoyed myself too, Son. What will you and Marisol do while we are at the march?"

"We'll watch it online, and then make dumplings with Auntie probably. She promised to make them on Saturday."

"Don't eat too many, you always get bad gas," Califia said.

"No, I don't—"

"You don't have to smell yourself when you go to sleep and start ripping bombs," she said rolling her eyes.

"Slander!" Erik said pushing on her arm. She pushed him back.

Down the street someone put on music in their home and Erik wiggled his hips and did a couple of backflips. Tapping his father's knees to get him to play, Erik hopped back from the porch to give N'Jobu room.

N'Jobu slid off his shoes and did an assertive swagger step that circled Erik. The boy's eyes kept watch on his father's hands, expecting the attack to come for his chest and not his feet. Erik stayed on the balls of his own bare feet, hopping up and down each time N'Jobu passed behind him. N'Jobu lunged forward but dropped to his feet tricking Erik into using his hands to go for his father's face. The moment Erik did that, N'Jobu cartwheeled into a side handstand using his legs to knocked Erik aside.

"Clever!" Erik shouted, hooking his fingers and jabbing N'Jobu with hard hits into his thighs. Their motion was fluid, and N'Jobu didn't allow it to move too fast.

"Alright little warrior, time for bed," Califia said.

Erik gave his father a hug.

"If you take a shower, try not to make too much noise, okay? Grandpop is having a hard time sleeping, so any noise keeps him up," she said.

"Okay. Night."

She kissed his cheek and watched him enter the house. The street was quiet then, and there were no more spies that they could see watching their home. The unmarked cars were gone.

Califia sat next to N'Jobu on the sturdy wooden chairs they propped out on the porch. Life felt good in that moment. She reached out and held his hand.

"When we have the vibranium, people can be protected from all police. All types of violence. We can create sources of energy that will lower the cost of living for everyone. People can really live. Sit on their porch and just watch the stars at night with their families and not worry about bills, or putting food on the table," N'Jobu said.

He cradled her fingers and kissed them. Califia stared into his eyes. She believed every word he said because the conviction in them was infectious. She had so many plans for when they began to remake the world. She wished Lia was alive to participate in shaping the future.

"Free education for all at any level. And that education will be equitable in quality everywhere. We can transform healthcare and the education of doctors and nurses on what true health and healing is. No more fossil fuels corroding the earth. People can work at what makes them happy, like my people at home. Wakanda isn't perfect, but we know how to run a society that treats people like humans and not capital gains."

She kissed his lips.

"What was that for?" he asked with a teasing quality in his voice.

"All that sounds so sexy coming from your mouth."

"This mouth right here?" he said pointing to his lips.

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"Let me test it again and see."

She climbed onto his lap and he held her sideways. Lowering her head, she licked his lips then suckled his top lip before going full open-mouthed kissing with him. His hand slid up and down her back and she felt a little something growing under her.

"We should take this to the bedroom," he whispered rubbing on her backside.

"We can't. Erik's sleeping in there, remember? Grandpop has his bed—"

"And Bakari's on the couch…yeah…that is a problem," he sighed.

They kissed longer, and when their necks began to shift left and right as their passion grew, N'Jobu broke away from her wet mouth. They didn't have a car, and the house was so small inside, they would wake up everyone even if they tried to sneak into the bathroom or kitchen.

N'Jobu's eyes darted to and fro, and then he had her lift up.

"What are you doing…babe…no…"

His jeans slid down to his thighs.

"Pull down your jeans, girl."

His erection was hot against her naked thigh. Dragging his fingers up and down her slit, he teased out her wetness.

"It just looks like your sitting on my lap," he whispered. His tone had gone heavy. He was ready.

She couldn't resist and sat down on his length and when she felt his balls, a groan escaped her lips and he covered her mouth.

"Shh, c'mon now. Let's pretend we're back in your grandmother's living room. You know how hot you get when you have to be quiet. Mmmm…shit…Califia…see, you do remember what that was like. Riding my dick. Up and down. Just like that. Give me what I want Califia. I'm your throne…I'm your throne…fuck!"

Califia shifted her weight and let it drop on his lap, allowing his dick to penetrate her deeper. He had her at his mercy, but she switched that up quickly.

"You like that Your Highness?"

His eyes grew big then narrowed with lust. This man. That royalty talk made him grow even stiffer. She rotated her hips in slow agonizing circles as she kept direct eye contact with him, biting her lip and pouting whenever he said her name in submissive whispers.

"You like that Your Highness?"

His head tilted back and his lust-filled eyes gazed up at the heavens filled with stars. She rocked forward and back letting his dick hit her walls with a different energy in the movement.

"I love it!" he gasped clutching at her covered breast.

She began a slow calculated bounce and his right thigh shook under her.

"Dammit!" he cried out while burying his face in her neck, gripping the skin there with his teeth.

"Bite me," she panted, wanting those gold panther teeth of his to dig into her throat and make her feel drunk with his power to weaken her flesh.

His loving never got old or boring or repetitive. N'Jobu's dick aged like fine ebony wine and he could still bring tears to her eyes when they made love. The tasty fucking he was giving her on the porch had her eyes swimming in water already.

"Fuck me Prince N'Jobu."

She whimpered when his eyes fell shut and he held her down on his lap so he could thrust up into her. She leaned forward again to adjust the side angle he had her in and allowed him to slam his dick into her with a faster rhythm. Her cheeks began to clap loudly and she worried that her family inside could hear it. N'Jobu gave no care to whoever heard him. He was inside his woman. That's all that mattered.

"Your Highness, fuck me harder!" she blurted out in a rush of desperate air.

He gave out a loud moan that he couldn't hold back, and now her loud ass cheeks were joined by the sound of her wet pussy being stirred like creamy cake batter. She didn't even have to play with her clit to keep it stimulated, the side fucking tugged on her stiff bud.

"Yes! Baby…harder…"

Tears dropped from her eyes and her mouth started to dry out from being open and yelping every three seconds. When she began to squeal and squirm from all his thrusting, she dug her nails into her knees and let go.

"I'm cumming Prince N'Jobu! I'm cummi-!"

She slammed her hand over her mouth as the contractions in her walls took over. She stood on tippy-toe as her pussy did all the work of milking his dick. He shouted a curse word in Wakandan and the swelling of his length released a torrent of hot semen. He shoved his dick into her deeper and allowed his release to coat every inch of her slick interior.

Panting, N'Jobu pulled out of her and she felt the back rush of his excess cum drip from her folds. She pulled her underwear and pants up.

Wiping his sweaty brow, N'Jobu stared at her face and they both laughed.

"We are a mess," she said.

She watched him slip a single bead from his kimoyo bracelet as he walked to the front part of their tiny yard. Digging a small hole with his index finger, he dropped the bead in like a seed and tapped it twice. Califia's eyes caught a slight bright afterimage in her retinas that felt like a muted camera flash.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Security. I just activated a surveillance sensor. It will protect the house and alert me of anything outside."

He tapped another bead on his arm. Their house popped up as an image floating above his arm. It rotated 360 degrees. She could see her father, Bakari, and Erik asleep inside.

They snuck into the house and took a shower together. Crawling into bed next to their son after changing into shorts for him and a nightie for her, they spooned Erik on either side of him, the child's snores giving Califia relief that he heard nothing.

N'Jobu stared at his son's sleeping face. Califia' stroked the boy's hair.

"I will give him the world," he said.

Califia nodded, but her man had to know that he was already their son's world.

Erik had it whenever his father was next to him.

###

At the starting point of the march, N'Jobu slipped a kimoyo bead inside the pocket of the black jeans Califia wore.

If any trouble occurred, he would activate a protective camouflage shield around her and him and escort her out. She seemed anxious but eager after Soliel's parents dropped them off and took Erik to stay with Marisol. Erik appeared disappointed once more that he couldn't participate, but he kissed them goodbye and N'Jobu felt relief that his son would be away from potential harm.

The weather was agreeable and he watched Soliel and the march leadership give final instructions to the large crowd that listened to them speak through megaphones. Califia passed out water bottles from the medic supply tent that was set up at the starting zone. There would be others dotted along the march route.

Despite the sad memories of losing Lia, there was a palpable sense of celebratory vibes wafting off the marchers. Some had posters with Lia's face on them, others had posters of other victims of police brutality and police misconduct. Califia wore a brown and beige Steampunk mask that covered the bottom half of her face with attached goggles with dark lenses that protected her eyes. Once Soliel stopped speaking, she too covered her face with a bandanna and dark sunglasses that obscured her face. The family of Lia would be direct targets, and relatives were advised to blend into the actual march and not center themselves for any reason.

More supporters arrived and by the time the march started at three, there was plenty of media and the frenzy to try and capture trouble wafted off of the press. Chants of Lia's name and Brazilian protest songs were sung, and N'Jobu felt proud of the family for keeping Lia's name and work alive.

Two hours in and miles of bodies marching through the streets, word spread through the crowd from flag bearers that the police were moving in to contain pockets of protesters who had broken off from the main march. There was to be a rally at the end in front of the city hall, and the joyful energy in the crowd shifted into caution mode. N'Jobu held Califia's hand and kept her next to him as they walked. The surge in numbers of people grew, and N'Jobu began to feel as if he should remove Califia and the family. Something didn't feel right.

His military skills went into hyperdrive and he searched roofs for snipers and spotted some along the route. They were near the front of the first wave of marchers, and he could see police barricades already blocking access to city hall and limiting the space they had been given permission to occupy.

The crowd grew tense.

Soliel chatted with some women who were to speak in front of the mayor's office and she signaled for Califia and N'Jobu to come next to her.

"They don't want me to speak," Soliel said, "there are some police here who many think we're part of the assassination of Lia."

"You have a right to speak without fear for the family," a young man said who was in charge of the speakers line-up scheduled.

Soliel's face was creased with worry.

Another woman held up her cell phone.

"A group on social media have threatened to make trouble," she said.

"I won't be scared off," Soliel said even though her voice shook. She looked at Aunjanue. Bakari caught up to them.

"There are some people near the middle of the line that are instigating trouble. Some police are getting a little heavy-handed," Bakari said. He scrolled his burner cell.

"Besouro and some drummers are trying to help contain it when I left."

"What do you want to do, Soliel?" Califia asked.

"We should speak. I will speak. They silenced my sister a year ago. We can't allow that to stop us now. Intimidation tactics are what they are known for. I won't bow down to it."

The rally commenced.

N'Jobu and Califia watched speaker after speaker give testimony about Lia and the work still being done to combat the problems of police brutality and the inequities in the city. Califia checked in with Soliel's cousin who babysat the children and things were fine. Soliel closed out the speeches and gave a fiery address. N'Jobu watched her pull off her t-shirt and standing in her bra, she showed everyone her old bullet wounds in her chest and arm. Her voice was guttural and Califia translated her words as fast as she could for him.

"They put a bullet in my sister's head, and they tried to kill me too. Look at me! Look at me! I am a Black woman fighting to honor my sister's memory. I have dedicated my life to doing work that helps my people just like my sister did. My family is still watched by the police. I get email threats every week since my sister has been gone. Why? Because they do not want anyone else to rise up and challenge injustice. The police do this. The same police who allowed my sister to be murdered by their own are out here standing among us. They are not here to protect and serve the people. They are here to uphold the will of the state. And the state says that Black people are not worth anything…"

The crowd booed and some made catcalls to the police surrounding the mayor's office.

"…they say we are not human beings who deserve to live dignified lives. My sister dared to speak truth to power and…"

N'Jobu watched the crowd carefully and then kept watch over the police on alert.

"Oh shit…" Califia said.

"What?"

"She named names. Told the crowd we know the individuals who killed Lia…."

Soliel held up her cell phone and scrolled it.

"She's now naming cops in the line up here and telling the people reports of their misconduct records…"

N'Jobu felt the energy around him get amped up. The anger was swelling from the marchers. The cops looked tenser. A few left their posts and threaded away from the protestors.

"I'm glad she did it, but that was not part of her original speech," Califia said.

Loud chanting started behind them and N'Jobu swiveled his neck to see where it was coming from, but it seemed to erupt from everywhere in a spontaneous show of power.

"Fuck the police!" Califia shouted her fist in the air.

N'Jobu's eyes darted around. Many cops had their hands on their weapons ready to discharge them as they held up riot shields to push back people. He slipped his fingers on his kimoyo beads. One false move and he would make Califia and himself disappear from sight. Califia caught his fingers on the beads and she clutched onto his arm.

"Soliel," she whispered.

"I slipped a bead into her jean pocket," he said.

Califia pressed her head onto his shoulder. The relief spilled from her.

"We are not afraid of you. You should be afraid of the power from all of us. We will change this city for the betterment of all. The world is watching us right now. My sister, Negra Li, she is watching all of us right now. Our ancestors are watching over us right now. Justice will come. Justice is here. I thank all of you for coming—"

An organizer rushed over to Soliel and tugged on her arm. Soliel stared down at her cell phone.

"I just received word that my home was firebombed. My home was attacked—"

"N'Jobu! The children!" Califia shouted.

N'Jobu grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the crowd.

###

Smoke rose up from the destroyed back half of Soliel and Aunjanue's home, and as it drifted up to the sky, the setting sun made it look monstrous like a snarling dragon sitting on top of it with a heated white-gray breath. Adrenaline coursed through N'Jobu. The fire department and police tried to hold him and Califia back as they all stared in disbelief at the destruction.

His heart began to beat again when he saw Soliel's cousin who was in charge of caring for the children standing near an ambulance with Marisol. The little girl was given fresh oxygen. That relief was short-lived.

"Where's Erik?" Califia screamed.

The cousin, Ines, began to cry with a bruised face and Califia shouted out in agony and lunged for the wrecked house again. N'Jobu grabbed her and held her tight, but she fought him. "Is my baby in there?! Is he in there?" she screamed at the firefighters.

There were already firemen going through the rubble in the back. He dragged Califia over to the cousin and Marisol.

"What happened?" N'Jobu asked trying to contain his anger.

"I was cooking and Marisol was with me in the kitchen. An explosion blew up the back….we were thrown onto the floor. I covered Marisol up…but JaJa, he was in the bedroom playing a video game. I called to him, but I couldn't get him because we were covered in debris and the house was burning…"

Ines burst into uncontrollable tears and Califia tried to comfort her as her eyes pleaded for him to find Erik.

"Go get him!" she demanded.

He moved with a swiftness as Dante and Soliel's parents arrived. Soon enough Bakari and Soleil showed up with many organizers.

"My son is in there get off of me!" he yelled pushing on a policeman. He kicked aside wood and concrete, shouting for his boy, his eyes filling with smoke…

"Baba! Mom!"

N'Jobu turned to find Erik running up to his mother. Califia grabbed him in a tight hug, lifting him off of his feet.

"Where were you?" N'Jobu said clutching for him too.

Guilt was on his face.

"I left the house…I snuck off to go to the march…"

His eyes took in Marisol and then he stared at the destroyed rear of Soliel and Aunjanue's home.

"What happened?" Erik asked. His eyes were wide like a baby owl.

Califia kissed all over his face.

"I should be angry with you, but being hardheaded saved your life!" she scolded.

Erik walked up to Marisol who was in the arms of Soliel.

"You okay?" he asked.

Marisol burst into tears.

"We thought you were dead!" she wailed.

The little girl said what they all felt and Erik hugged her.

Califia wiped her eyes.

Soliel lost it.

"They tried to kill my family again!" she shouted.

Aunjanue tried to hold her and Marisol's face crumpled.

"The police did this! The police did this!"

Soliel's parents pulled her and her family away from the ambulance and ushered them to a waiting car. N'Jobu grabbed for Erik and Califia's hands.

"Let's go," he told them with Dante and Bakari on his heels.

He hailed a cab two blocks away and Califia called Soliel's mother to see where they were headed. The new family home was the destination. N'Jobu checked their own rental property and it was intact.

"This is crazy," Bakari uttered.

The ride in the cab only lasted five minutes and they took refuge inside a single-story home. Both the children were checked thoroughly and Marisol was sent to go rest. Calls were made and fears were heightened. Califia's hands wouldn't stop shaking and N'Jobu rubbed her back.

"JaJa," N'Jobu said.

"I know you told me to stay at the house, but I watched the march online and I just wanted to be there. I caught the bus but a lot of streets were blocked off, so I just walked around until I found some marchers. I walked and then I came back."

Fate.

Fate had a way of working on N'Jobu, and he thanked Bast for whatever got into his son's head to leave.

"Poor Marisol, and Ines," Califia said.

"Shit," Dante said.

Califia's father walked to the front door and they all followed.

Groups of angry people were storming down the street yelling.

"This isn't good," Bakari said.

Erik tried to peek at the action but Califia pulled him back and took him to the room where Marisol rested.

N'Jobu heard bottles breaking outside. Soliel's father Andres closed the front door.

"We stay indoors," Andres said.

"They destroyed my home!" Soliel shouted. Aujanue tried to calm her again.

"We will go salvage what we can in a couple of hours, but right now, we stay here."

Andres's voice made things sound final.

The rest of the night was spent watching the news of the firebombing, screening phone calls from the police and media.

People took to the streets and whatever feelings of goodwill and hope that the march provided ended in anger and destruction of public property. Government property was targeted and they all watched in horror as the Sao Paulo community that peacefully assembled to celebrate Lia broke down into hopelessness. Hundreds of arrests were made. N'Jobu and Califia saw young people throwing Molotov cocktails at the police who shot back with rubber bullets and real ones. Complete chaos. Supporters stood outside and protected Andres's home.

Califia was able to slip his kimoyo bead away from Soliel when she changed clothes and returned it to him. N'Jobu spoke with Erik about what he saw in the streets. His son only reported positive things and he felt good about being a part of the memorial march.

"Will they be able to fix the house back up?" Erik asked when he rested between him and Califia for the night in the spare bedroom of Andres's home.

Bakari was camped out on the floor next to the bed on a small cot, and Dante was curled up in a sleeping bag directly on the floor to help his back.

"There was too much damage to save it," Califia said with bitterness lacing her voice.

"Are you guys still mad at me for leaving?"

"No, Son. We are happy that everyone is alive and well. Homes can be replaced. People cannot," N'Jobu said.

Erik rested his head on his mother's stomach.

"Why do bad things happen to us here?" Erik asked.

Califia looked at N'Jobu for the answer.

"Powerful people with ill intent often don't like to see good people change the world. They are afraid of losing their power to control others," he said.

"Marisol was so scared. I shouldn't have left her."

"Don't worry about that. You are safe and sound and here with us," Califia said.

"Will she have to see someone like Dr. Davis? Like I had to talk to someone about…you know…"

"Probably. Don't think about that. Get some sleep, okay?" Califia said.

"Will they stay out in the streets all night? Because of what happened to Auntie's house?"

"Most people have gone home. Luckily, no one was killed by the police—"

"But that woman got shot in the leg, Mom."

"She'll live, son. Everyone is upset and hurt by what happened. They had to act out those feelings. But it's calm now."

Califia smoothed hair from Erik's eyes.

"Somebody needs a haircut," she teased.

"You!" he said pulling a clump of her hair.

"Ow! Boy!" she chirped slapping at his hand.

Erik giggled.

N'Jobu was glad that he wasn't traumatized by the shocking events of the day.

Erik fell asleep and Califia eased him off of her belly and tucked him between them. N'Jobu reached over and stroked Califia's arm.

"I'm still so angry. If they were watching all of us, then they knew there were children in that house. They didn't care. Willing to kill our babies—"

"Shh, Califia. Not now. Don't wake him."

She stared at her hands.

"Look at my hands. They still shake. God, I want to strangle whoever did that to us. I just saw that rubble and knew Erik was under it."

She grew quiet.

"Califia?"

"You think he's okay? He seems calm about all of this."

"I think he's fine. No one was seriously hurt and we all came together quickly. There was no chaos like…like last time."

"I needed to be here for this…"

"But?"

"Maybe it was a mistake. Bringing him here. I could've come by myself…"

"We needed to be here together. All of us—"

"Don't just say that to make me feel better, N'Jobu."

"We can't control the actions of our enemies. The march was an overwhelming success."

"But after the march, we'll get blamed for what happened."

"People acted out of legitimate frustration and anger about what happened to Soleil's home. It was another attack on Lia's good name, and if people destroyed a few police vehicles and buildings, so be it. Why are you smiling?"

She shook her head, her smile deepening.

"What would the old N'Jobu say about you talking like this?"

"The old me was naïve and corrupt."

"Corrupt?"

"Corrupted by privilege. Isolation. Willful ignorance."

Her eyes rested on their son.

"He'll really be okay, right?"

"Yes."

She eased her head on a pillow and closed her eyes.

He drifted in and out of sleep. Their journey into the future would begin soon and he fretted about it until he saw Bakari wake up and go into the kitchen. N'Jobu followed him.

"Couldn't stay sleep," Bakari said pouring himself some instant coffee.

"Me neither. Part of me wants to run out and just beat the hell out of anyone affiliated with the police, and another part of me knows that it could be anyone out there against Black people."

Bakari nodded.

They sat at the kitchen table together and listened to the loud ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room.

"Erik?"

"Good. So far. He wasn't there so he's only concerned about where they will live. Marisol and Ines will have to process this."

"Marisol was laughing with Andres last I heard before I went to bed. Ines said she's been through worse, so…I don't know. Maybe this will pass by for them without much scarring."

"Bakari. When we return to the States, I will need your help with some legal things."

"Like?"

"I'm planning some things and it involves my family. I'll give you more details when there aren't so many ears around, but it's very serious and I need your complete confidence and discretion."

"Whatever you need man."

N'Jobu walked into the living room and peeked out of the large front window. He could see a few neighbors standing guard outside the gated yard, and not much foot traffic or cars rolling through since the police blocked off access near the house. He hoped things had really calmed down, but his gut told him to be ready for anything.

###

The local news was in a frenzy, but the story about the firebombing was picked up on international channels. N'Jobu laid low indoors with Erik. Califia moved in and out of the house to make statements with the press alongside Soliel. Later that day the family went to salvage personal items from the destroyed home. N'Jobu watched the children and cooked for them, checking his kimoyo beads for Califia from time to time.

The march organizers had a debriefing meeting that Soliel insisted on participating in that evening. Dante had a return flight back to Oakland, so goodbyes were given and Califia saw her father off in a cab before she headed out with Soliel. They were gone for hours, and when he didn't hear from them after too much time had passed without a check-in, he grew concerned. He asked Bakari to watch the children while he set out to track her with the kimoyo bead planted on her.

He tried Califia's cell phone, but she didn't answer it. Soliel didn't answer hers either and when he drove a few blocks away from the house, Califia's phone number popped up on his cell.

"Califia?"

The voice on the other end spoke rapid Portuguese and N'Jobu couldn't make out the words. It wasn't his woman speaking. He pulled over and parked. He saw a police vehicle on the corner and there were people lingering outside as the evening settled down.

"Hold on. I don't understand…too fast…slow down…vá mais devagar! Where is my wife?"

The voice became shrill. The only thing he understood was his name and Califia's.

"Hold on for a minute, please!"

Clutching the phone to his chest, N'Jobu swept his eyes back to the police car ahead of him. Something made him leave the car where it was and walk discreetly back to the house.

"Erik, come here!"

Erik bounded out of the bedroom. Bakari stepped out of the kitchen.

"What's up man?" Bakari asked wiping down a plate.

"Someone's on the phone and I can't figure out what they're saying. They're using Califia's phone."

Bakari reached for the cell.

"I can talk to them."

"It sounds urgent and Erik's Portuguese is better."

Erik took the phone.

N'Jobu tapped his beads and he could see that Califia was alive and stationary, but she wasn't where she was supposed to be. He wished he had given her a 4D bead, but he couldn't take the chance of his brother scanning it and discovering his whereabouts or seeing Califia with it.

"Baba, this woman says that the police raided Mom's meeting…the phone cut off."

N'Jobu felt his heart leap to his throat.

Andres and Soliel's mother stepped into the house carrying bags of groceries.

"Mestre, I need you to call Califia's phone back. Something has happened."

Andres took the cell and put it on speakerphone.

The woman answered again but her voice was quieter like she was trying to whisper.

"Turn on the TV!" Andres shouted.

Bakari snapped on the television and N'Jobu's eyes and ears were split between the cell and the news.

"Okay, that was one of the organizers—"

"Mãe," Erik said holding onto Soliel's mother whose hands shook.

N'Jobu held onto the woman's arm and helped her sit down on the couch.

"What is happening?!" N'Jobu demanded.

"The women were having a meeting and the police went there to charge Soliel with inciting a riot and there was shooting. An officer was killed and—"

All eyes went to the TV as reports of the dead cop was announced.

"Where are they?" Bakari asked.

Three women were seated on the curb of a street in handcuffs and N'Jobu recognized them from being in his house days earlier. There was no sign of Califia or Soliel. Aunjanue wasn't seen either.

"Shoot out?" Andres said with an incredulous voice as the TV reporter made ridiculous claims, "My daughter would never have a weapon—"

"Shh," Mãe said patting his arm.

"Baba," Erik said.

His son stepped next to him and held his arm.

"It's okay, Son. Your mother is fine."

He almost convinced himself.

The threads were coming together to tell a story that N'Jobu didn't like. Cops raiding Soliel's organization. He could imagine Califia or Soliel popping off and the cops retaliating for accusations and calling out names for Lia's murder. They had to be on the run if that many police were parading in front of the TV cameras. They would've ditched their cell phones to keep from being tracked.

When the news report went to commercial, N'Jobu turned to face Andres.

"They won't be able to come here. Where can they go that will be safe?" N'Jobu asked.

He couldn't let on that he had the exact location of the women. Picking them up from wherever they were would not be a problem for him, but if they were in deep and actually did kill a cop, he'd have to get Califia out of the country.

"They would head out of the city," Andres said.

N'Jobu held onto Erik's hand. His eyes glanced at N'Jobu's beads and then they were on his father's face. The boy was quick.

N'Jobu ran through plans in his head. They would have to leave all of their belongings at the rental property. There was nothing there they needed. Erik had his mother's laptop there with him. N'Jobu would leave it with Bakari to take back to the States.

The landline rang.

They looked at one another and then Andres answered it.

The man listened to whoever was on the line and his body language relaxed. He hung up and took a deep breath.

"They are fine, but hiding out with Besouro in his apartment. They can't stay there long because the police will probably start locking down streets since a cop was killed. There is now a manhunt for them."

That meant they had names.

That also meant that Califia couldn't leave the country by plane or car. She was stuck.

Unless…

"We can get Aunjanue and Soliel to the Mantiqueira Mountains, but Califia would have to stay with them," Andres said.

Erik's body grew tense against him.

"No. I will get her out of the country," N'Jobu said.

"Man, how you gonna do that? They will have this place crawling with cops, and they will be out for blood," Bakari said.

"Baba," Erik murmured.

Marisol walked into the room rubbing her eyes. Mãe ushered her back into the room she came from napping in.

"I will get her out of here."

N'Jobu's words were final.

###

He was taking a huge risk.

N'Jobu had War Dog allies all over the planet, but what he was attempting to do now could risk the greater mission if it failed.

He stayed secretive as he rode in a cab with Erik and Andres.

Favors had been called in from Andres's cadre of capoeira supporters and close family friends. Spiriting away three wanted women was going to be a delicate task. The police already had a woman in custody who was Soliel's right-hand soldier and she wasn't speaking to anyone but a lawyer. Bakari stayed in Andre's home contacting lawyer friends back home and discreetly checking to see if there was someone who could help him with Brazilian law where it pertained to American citizens accused of crimes.

Changing cabs a few times and walking for the last leg of getting to Besouro's apartment was tough, especially for Erik whose anxiety about his mother spiked tremendously. Entering the back of the twenty-story apartment building, N'Jobu used his kimoyo beads to scramble cameras outside the apartment and inside as they rode an elevator.

He was able to breathe normally the moment Califia was in his arms.

"Jobu!" she cried out when she saw him.

He hugged her so hard that he squeezed the breath from her chest.

"Don't talk about anything, not in front of Erik," he whispered in her ear.

She nodded and he released her to comfort their son. Erik did his best to appear brave but it didn't stop a few tears from trekking down his face once he was back with his mother.

Time wasn't wasted and Andres gave Soliel and Aunjanue wigs that Mãe sent with him and a change of clothes. They waited an hour and then one of Andre's friends called from a hidden car out on the street.

"Cali," Soliel said.

All the women hugged. There were no tears among them, just reassuring touches and kisses. Andres ushered them out.

Besouro cooked for them and they watched the news. Erik held onto his mother until she made him go lay down in Besouro's bedroom.

"Show me your roof access," N'Jobu said.

Confused, Besouro took him to the stairs of the apartment and they walked up ten flights.

"How will you leave here?" Besouro asked.

"I have a plan. We'll be leaving later tonight."

"Why do you need to see the roof?"

"Don't worry about."

"Don't worry about it? Are you insane? How can I not? I have to make sure Califia and Erik—"

"I will take care of my family."

Besouro's eyes look heated.

"They are my family too. They all are. Even you."

The man's voice grew soft.

N'Jobu held out his hand and Besouro clasped it in his and shook it.

"Thank you for protecting them. I promise you; I will take care of them and send you word when we are safe."

Besouro nodded, but N'Jobu could see great doubt there. The man was terrified. And he was putting his own life on the line for harboring fugitives.

"I'm going back down," Besouro said.

N'Jobu watched the man leave. When he was certain that he was alone he tapped his kimoyo bead.

"Lixesha lokuba ndimke."

Indeed.

It was time to leave.

"Your Highness, we shall arrive in exactly one hour. We have your coordinates."

"Thank you, Yonela," N'Jobu said into his beads.

He walked back down to the apartment and joined his family inside Besouro's bedroom.

"Listen to me carefully," he said standing in front of Califia and Erik as they sat on the bed.

Their questioning eyes made him smile.

"We are leaving the country. At midnight."

"I can't get on a plane, N'Jobu. I can't even drive out of Sao Paolo," she said.

"What about our stuff at the house?" Erik asked.

"That can be replaced later. When we get to Oakland we'll have to stay at my apartment. Understand?"

They both nodded.

He touched Califia's hair and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Ten minutes before midnight, N'Jobu gathered his family and walked them into the living room.

"Don't follow us," N'Jobu warned.

Erik and Califia hugged Besouro and he looked so lost and helpless to N'Jobu.

"Send me word," Besouro said.

N'Jobu nodded then herded Erik and Califia out of the apartment.

They all stayed quiet walking up the stairs and when they reached the roof, they stared at him.

"What's going to happen Baba?"

Erik's earnest eyes made N'Jobu pat his shoulder.

"You shall see, my Son."

Califia's eyes just took in the roof.

"Baba!"

Erik touched the gums on his lower lip. Califia stared at her arms and hands.

N'Jobu could feel the vibration in his body too and turned to face the sky.

"Mom, look!"

Erik pointed above them as streaks of neon blue lit the black sky.

"What…?"

Califia couldn't even finish her sentence as the sky above them appeared to ripple as if someone threw a pebble into a placid dark lake. They were all enveloped in the ticklish field of the multi-spectral camouflage shield. Erik held his fingers up to try and touch the shield but then a loud gasp escaped his throat and Califia's as a Wakandan Battle Cruiser shimmered into full view above them.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!" Califia shrieked.

N'Jobu enveloped her hand in his.

"Baba!" Erik shouted jumping up and down.

The large Cruiser spun around and hovered at the edge of the roof. A large ramp silently eased out from it and two soldiers walked down the ramp.

"Your Highness."

Captain Yonela Majola greeted him with gentle eyes. Her second in command Lt. Deyi looked around the roof to make sure it was secure. His eyes took in N'Jobu's family and when he stared at the Prince, he gave a respectful head nod in deference.

"No matter what happens, you did not see these two. Understood?" N'Jobu commanded.

"Yes, your Highness," they said in unison.

They stepped aside making room for him and his family.

"Come," N'Jobu said holding Erik's hand. Califia walked right next to him, the ship overwhelming her senses.

"I can't believe this," she whispered.

Onboard, the rest of Yonela's crew bowed to him.

"Where would you like to sit, Prince N'Jobu?" Yonela asked.

Erik's eyes made N'Jobu chuckle.

"In the front for now," N'Jobu said.

"We are on course to rendezvous with a Royal Shadow Fighter in Guyana in good time. We will have to stay in hover mode for a day before we can transfer you," Yonela said, "It is the only way I can keep this operation covert."

"That is fine, Captain," N'Jobu said.

Lt. Deyi guided Erik and Califia to empty high-backed gray seats behind the Captain's floating chair.

"Baba, it's not attached to anything. How is that possible?" Erik whispered.

"I will tell you later. We have to leave right away. Califia, are you comfortable?"

Califia sat back in her chair. She looked around for a seatbelt and then her eyes regarded his. He sat next to her and took her hand.

"Whoa," she yelped when the gravity belts secured them.

Her eyes gazed down at her waist and then she touched her shoulders.

"I feel something, but there's nothing here," she said.

Yonela took her position in the floating chair. The chair turned around to face them.

"May I, your Highness?" Yonela asked.

"Proceed," N'Jobu said, taking delight in his family getting a feel of his old world.

Yonela's eyes took in his family.

"You do not exist," Yonela said.

Erik's eyes were bright. Califia was cautious and a bit nervous.

"We are loyal to our Prince. We would die for him. We will get you home safe…"

Yonela's English was simple and clear. She slowed down to make sure they understood every word. She handed them kimoyo beads from her bracelet.

"Keep these on you. They will hide you in plain sight on board this ship. I can communicate with you while you have them. Understand?"

They nodded.

"Good. Welcome aboard."

Yonela floated back around

"At your stations!" she commanded.

The other soldiers took their positions and Yonela swiped her hand in front of her face. Touching a glowing magenta rectangle near her right hand, she took her index finger and thumb widening the rectangle. As she did that, the viewscreen window before them widened.

"Wow!" Erik said.

Califia's eyes were wider too as they took in the landscape of the city.

"May I proceed, Your Highness?" Yonela said.

"Proceed," N'Jobu said.

Yonela's left hand swiped another small floating screen and they all felt the engines rev and the Cruiser floated forward.

The smooth ascent gave them more spectacular views of Sao Paulo. Califia pointed to their left.

"Those are the Mantiqueira Mountains," she said.

N'Jobu held her hand.

"They'll make it, my love," he said.

"Erik," Yonela said.

"Yes?" he answered.

Yonela tapped Lt. Deyi's shoulder and the man stood up from his floating seat in front of Erik.

"Would you like to sit next to me?"

Yonela's eyes twinkled as she turned her head to look back at Erik. The gray hair peppering her short dark curls were the only give away that she was much older than she looked. She was sixty and barely looked forty.

"Can I Baba?"

N'Jobu's eyes met Yonela's. He hadn't been openly forthright with letting her know that this was his own family. He had told the Captain that they were a mother and child he was close to and that they needed help escaping undetected.

Yonela's eyes looked even gentler after she received confirmation.

"Go ahead," N'Jobu said.

Erik wiggled in his seat, and the gravity belt released him. He jumped onto the floating chair.

"Easy, JaJa," Califia said, still holding N'Jobu's hand.

"You see that button there?" Yonela asked pointing to a glowing yellow circle.

"Yes."

"Tap it two times," she said.

Erik did and the lights inside the ship grew dim until it was almost completely dark and just the glow of the night sky and the lights of the city enveloped them.

"Good job, young Prince," Yonela said.

Erik's eyes gazed at the woman, and then he looked back at N'Jobu in wonderment.

Yonela's fingers moved swiftly across her floating controls.

"Stealth mode engaged. Radio silence maintained…"

The rest of the soldiers went about their normal duties.

Yonela kept the cruising altitude low so that Erik could watch them travel over the country of Brazil. N'Jobu felt Califia squeeze his hand and when he looked over at her, there was water in her eyes.

"Come with me," he said releasing her from her seat.

He took her to the upper level of the ship where there were showers and sleeping quarters. Grabbing fresh white cotton loungewear from a closet, he waved his hand for privacy and several soldiers moved away from their section.

He helped her remove all of her clothing before taking his off and led her into a shower stall, locking the shower door behind them. Fully lit with plenty of room for the two of them, he took soap and shampoo from the dispensers and lathered her hair and body as she wept, the stress pouring out of her. He held her, and when she was rinsed off, he made her sit on the shower bench with him. Rocking her in his arms he allowed her to cry until no more tears came.

He pulled her into the body dryer and when they were ready, they dressed in the comfortable and clingy loungewear.

"This way," he said.

She followed him to an empty wall in a corner and watched him wave his hand over a section of it and a bed slid out from the wall.

"Lay down."

She crawled onto the small comfortable bed and he climbed in after her and wrapped his arms around her.

"When you are ready, tell me everything."

She nodded and fell asleep on his chest.

The hum of the ship rocked them both into a much-needed rest.

Chapter 30 HERE.

###

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[uzumaki-rebellion]

Soon Come... Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Vol. 2, Chp. 24

Working out some plot set-ups in  Vol. 2 Chapter 24 that may bleed into “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Volume 3″. The preview of Volume 3 is coming along, and I want to make sure I set up little Erik in Vol 2 to gracefully transition into Volume 3.

(Pauses to stare at Sterling K. Brown in picture. Why is N’Jobu so fine?)

Thinking of doing a one shot of Erik and Marisol that is connected to the BBBTF universe, but may not make it into volume three. I just really want to write about Erik’s first time getting his keloid scar. We’ll see where it ends up, but Marisol is a big part of that, and it happens in Brazil.

Off to snack then...typing, typing.

[phenomenal1500]

Under The Influence | Erik Killmonger

Chapter 2: ~Burn It All Down~

For Chapter 1: ~Long Live The King~ click here. 

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

"Nah. I'm your king." He yelled and turned around, his dark eyes landing on his new adviser in front of him while he walked up to her.... the words secretly being meant for her in particular.

~~~

Out of the corner of her eye she could see that Shuri, Nakia and Queen Mother had already fled through the cave's tunnels while the rest of the Elders quietly walked away from the tragic event, softly crying or visibly angry. She would've loved to do the same, to show emotions and grief for her former king and the Warrior Shaman, but she couldn't, not when the murderer of T'Challa and Zuri was standing right before her with his hand held out for her to take it.

Venery looked up with hesitation and back at his hand covered in dried blood before forcing herself to take it. She had to stay in character, be loyal to the throne, that was the oath she had taken after all.

"I will walk you to your room and send someone to patch you up before we start the ritual, your highness." She slightly bowed with her head, really trying to keep her voice from breaking. She felt like such a betrayer to Wakanda and all the kings that had once ruled over it.... she felt like such a failure.

"Aight, princess. Lead the way." He gave her a small smirk, showing off his golden fangs while his muscles flexed with every breath he took. If they weren't in the situation they were in right now, if he wasn't the bad guy.... if everything was different, she would've given into the fact he was really handsome, but everything wasn't different. This was the situation they were in, he was the bad guy, he did kill Zuri and T'Challa and he was the new king now. The new king she had to serve no matter what happened.

The woman managed to pull her golden eyes off of him before turning around, not saying a word as she began to walk. Not that she was able to say anything either, her voice would definitely crack if she did so and she didn't want him to already doubt her loyalty on the first day. With burning eyes from the tears that were forming and an unsteady breath, she picked up the path that led back to the palace with the man following her closely.

Killmonger didn't say anything either as he walked behind her, giving her time to silently grieve or just process what had taken place at the Warrior Falls.

He didn't mean to hurt her or anyone else the way he did, but he had waited his whole life for this moment and he had to do it.... no matter how much it disgusted her or the rest of his people. Not that he truly cared that much about their judgements though, the thing was just that she was his adviser and he needed her by his side to remain seated on his throne.

He had to make her trust him and he had already gotten off to a bad start.

Killmonger knew she was astounded by his actions and he was right. Everything about the man truly disgusted her, but even then.... he did have the right to take over the throne. The right to take what belonged to him as well. He had done nothing wrong according to the law of Wakanda, but Venery still had a bad feeling about the king.

After following the path of the grey smooth stones back to the inhabited city again, they ended up on the airstrips just in front of the palace and she opened the massive and heavy glass doors for him.

"After you, my king." Her hand waved through the air elegantly as a sign for him to step inside first, but the man was stubborn though.

He hovered over the woman's smaller frame, placing his hand right next to her head. "Nah- after you, princess." He sighed for her to walk and she nodded slowly, awkwardly slipping past his body to walk in.

Together they continued to walk through the gigantic halls and into the elevator and at the top floor, they finally arrived at his room.

Ven unlocked the door and stepped inside to check if everything was okay. The room was semicircular on the side where all the windows were, a circular balcony attached to it, and the color scheme of the king's room was green, white, gold, and black. The walls were decorated with many different kinds of Tribal paintings belonging to almost each Tribe he now ruled over, and in the center of the only straight wall was a very large double bed set against it.

"This is the room you'll be staying in." His eyes scanned the room once he joined her inside. "If you  need anything just knock on the door on the opposite side of yours. That's my room."

Before she could flee from the room and go back to her own to break down there, he kicked the door shut with his boot and she backed away from it.

"Listen, girl.... we need to talk." He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, his voice confident and calm. "Tell me what's bothering you."

"Bothering me? Sir, you...." She went silent, knowing that whatever she was going to say next was going to be bad talk about Killmonger and he was standing right there.

"We're in a safe place with just you and me, princess. It's okay to speak your mind." He walked away from the door, circling around the woman before sitting down on the huge double bed. His legs were wide, his elbows resting on his thighs, and the eye contact they held never broke. "Again- what's bothering you that you want to talk about?"

She inhaled deeply, not knowing what to do so she simply decided to be honest.

"I.... I served T'Challa for a long time and I feel like such a betrayer whenever I think about serving you the same way. I want to, I truly do because I believe your motives could be good ones and till know you did nothing wrong, but I have this bad feeling.... like I'm living on the border of right and wrong. I don't know whether to serve you and be loyal to you or stay loyal to-...."

"A dead man?" He interrupted her, still in that same controlled and calm voice while he leaned forward a bit. "Being loyal to a dead man is what you're doing right now. He's gone and I'm sorry, but it had to be done." She lowered her head, fighting the tears and clearing her throat so her voice wouldn't crack.

Whatever she was going to do, whatever she was going to say, she in no circumstances was going to look weak in front of him.

"Perhaps you're right." She sighed, still feeling like a betrayer as she looked at her feet. However, in the meantime that Venery was struggling with her thoughts, Killmonger leaned back and stretched his arms which suddenly reminded her of his wounds. "Almost forgot, let's get you patched up, my king." She held out her hand to him and he took it, standing up so he could follow her.

~~~

"Welcome to the City of The Dead." She smiled when she saw the beautiful temple appear before her eyes after the long stairway they had to climb and she turned around to face her current king. The man had begun to act more calm and more controlled when he figured what was about to happen, finally feeling a bit of peace since this was what he had trained for all his life. Together they walked into the sacred temple and she helped him get ready for the ritual. "As per tradition, you must undergo the ritual where all Kings of Wakanda must go through by drinking the fluid of the Heart-Shaped Herb. It will grant you visions, a moment to speak to your ancestor's spirit within the Ancestral Plane even, before officially being crowned as king and Black Panther."

He hummed and carefully laid down in the circle filled with terracotta coloured sand encircled by the shamans, royal guards and his adviser.

"Allow the Heart Shaped Herb to give you the powers of the Black Panther and take you to the Ancestral Plane." The woman shaman chanted and then ordered the others to bury Killmonger after the herb's fluid that he drank began to take effect on him. Venery helped, gently covering his face while the rest covered his body. Once Killmonger was completely buried in the sand, everyone was silently waiting for him to wake up and Ven kneeled down beside him once he started to breathe heavily.

He was.... scared?

Before she could reach out to rest her hand on the accumulated sand to hope it would somehow comfort him, he suddenly arose from the sand and it shocked her. She stumbled backwards and he wiped away a single tear that he tried to hide. It appeared something changed him in the time he was in the Ancestral Plane.... He looked like a whole new man. Powerful. Ready to conquer the world, but yet hurt. Traumatized. It made her curious about who he had talked to that made him change like this?

"Breathe, my king." She reached out to touch his shoulder and he faced her before she could even do so, hyperventilating and shaking. He suddenly noticed he scared her away through all the panic he felt at that moment and held out his hand which she took carefully, stroking the palm of his hand. "Just breathe, my king."

Taking a deep breath, he suddenly felt the power of the heart shaped herb coursing through his veins and he smirked a little, clearly enjoying the wave of power.

"The Heart Shaped Herb did that?" Killmonger began to walk toward a dirt plot filled with the heart shaped herb and glared at it while the female shaman that had followed him nodded to confirm he was correct. "This is all of it?"

"Yes. So when it comes time for another King, we will be ready." She stated and Venery joined them instantly, knowing that what she had said wasn't going to appeal to him at all.

"Another King....?" He narrowed the gap between the shaman and him with a dangerous look in his dark eyes. "Yeah, go ahead and burn all that."

Ven furrowed her brows as she heard Killmonger order the rest of the shamans to burn all of the herbs and she couldn't believe what she had heard. She knew he wanted it to be done in order to cement his status as king over Wakanda permanently and to prevent anyone from ever opposing him, but she couldn't let it happen.... it was something holy to them....

"My King, we cannot do that. It is our tradition-...." She stepped in front of him and he clenched his jaw, really trying not to harm her in any way while she tried to go against his commands.

"When I tell you to do something, I mean that shit, girl. Burn it all!" He growled lowly as he leaned into her ear and her heart stopped for a second before she automatically nodded, frightened of what would happen if she didn't agree with him.

"You heard the king-...." She felt a lump form in her throat and repeated the order to the other shamans so they would finally take action, burning the whole garden while Killmonger observed the landscape to make sure all of them are burned down.

"I'm sorry my kings." Ven whispered softly while watching all the beautiful flowers turn into ash.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chp. 23″

Summary: Erik makes a discovery that changes the course of his family forever...

NSFW. Mature Audience. Smut.

"Every once and awhile

I find myself going through a transition

Packing up, flying away again

Never knowing how or which way is up

Turning, Spinning high

Welcome to changes

No time to spare

Might as well get used to it

Welcome to changes

Blow with the air…"

Carleen Anderson – "Welcome to Changes"

Califia had known Dr. Barbara Davis since she was a child.

Therapy was something her grandmother insisted on after her father was arrested and sent to prison. Nana Jean understood that her granddaughter was traumatized and needed the professional help her mother couldn't give her.

Califia was grateful for the intervention and grateful to have used Dr. Davis services when she had a brutal fight with N'Jobu when they were in their twenties. It was the only time in their relationship where N'Jobu had laid hands on her. He was defending himself from her attack after he accused her of being a cheating slut. He claimed much later that he had been holding back, but she remembers him using ulwa on her without hesitation. Perhaps it was ingrained in him to protect himself with full force no matter who it was who attacked him.

Califia allowed the fingers of her left hand to fuss with the leather button on the couch she sat on in Dr. Davis's comfortable and welcoming office. Soft browns and mauves surrounded them with splashes of pink. Soothing colors in all the décor. Hanging plants with long green tendrils giving the space a safe feel.

Erik sat beside her, quiet, his hands in his lap as he waited for their session to begin.

N'Jobu had been home for months and their family had maintained a stable home life since his return. Califia had returned to work but she made sure she and Erik saw Dr. Davis twice a week.

"How are things going for you at school, Erik?"

Dr. Davis's kind eyes peered at him from her horn-rimmed glasses, a sweet smile on her lips as she looked at the boy. Erik's body shifted in his seat.

"Good," he said, "…better actually."

"How so?"

"I sleep better at home, so I'm…calmer…um, yeah…calmer at school. No more nightmares."

"That's good to hear. And you, Califia?"

Califia's eyes left Erik's face as she gazed at the therapist.

"I still get bad dreams…sometimes. Not of the attack, but just weird stuff that I can't remember when I wake up."

Dr. Davis scribbled some things down on a yellow notepad.

"What about N'Jobu? How has he been?"

"Good. He and Erik are going camping this weekend with Erik's friend Walter."

"We went to Disneyland a few weeks ago," Erik said. His face lit up at the memory.

Dr. Davis went over some new breathing techniques with them and showed them how to quickly assess their anxiety levels with each other. It hurt Califia so much that Erik suffered from some of the same problems that she grappled with as a child. Intergenerational trauma was no joke, and she worried that she had passed down so much of her pain to her son. Erik had always been a joy to raise, a sensitive little one who felt deeply, but Lia's assassination had opened a wound that accelerated anxiety in him. He was also showing signs of obsessive-compulsive behavior. She could see the stress in him as he tried in his own way to still process and live with what he witnessed.

Their fifty-minute session went by quickly and while Dr. Davis put away her notes, Califia felt her heart- rate go up.

"Erik, do me a favor, could you wait out in the next room. I want to schedule some things with your mother real quick," Dr. Davis said.

Erik nodded, hopped off the couch, and disappeared into the waiting room.

"Califia…what is it?"

Califia finally allowed her tears to flow freely. She kept them in so Erik wouldn't see them, struggling to look normal for him as he left the space.

"I'm messing him up," she said, her voice shuddering from suppressing her emotions from Erik.

"What makes you say that?"

Dr. Davis handed Califia a tissue to wipe her eyes.

"My entire life has been nothing but pain and struggle and mental health issues. I see what it's doing to him. I'm setting my baby up for failure. He's become so rigid about things and he treats me like I'm the child sometimes. He always checks to make sure I'm okay. I'm supposed to be doing that for him!"

She threw her hands over her face unable to stop herself from weeping. "I've fucked up my son—"

"No…you haven't done that—"

"You see how he is—"

Dr. Davis pulled Califia's hands from her face.

"Let me tell you about your son. Erik witnessed a horrific event. But he is resilient. He has an absolute innate sense of justice. He believes strongly in fairness. He has a protective nature about him. His heart is so big and loving that he wants to make sure his Mommy is okay too."

Califia sat back on the couch still clutching the tissue in her hand.

"Parents can pass down anxiety—"

"That can happen. Erik has been displaying symptoms of an overactive brain, but it's nothing we can't work to improve. He's a brilliant child with big thoughts and ideas going on. He's learning to focus in much calmer ways so don't get yourself so worked up. Your coming here with him is the best thing you are doing to help him and yourself. His coping behaviors are simply coping behaviors. He could outgrow them over time—"

"What if he doesn't?"

"Let's focus on right now. Stressing over the future or the past is what keeps you stuck Califia. We work on that with you, and Erik will be fine. The fact that he sees you here doing your best to get well mentally only encourages him to do the same. You have to stay focused on the present with him now. Be mindful of the progress you both have made. Think of all the support you have from your family. Especially N'Jobu."

"Erik…he's my best thing, y'know?"

"I know."

"I worry so much about him. Parents are supposed to protect their children—"

"We live in the real world, Califia. You can't shield Erik from everything that happens, but you can be a pillar of strength and unconditional love for him. He can face anything when you and N'Jobu give him that."

Dr. Davis handed her another tissue and Califia tried to fix her face before going out to Erik.

Her son's eyes sought out hers the moment she walked out and he saw that they were pink from crying.

"You okay, Mom?"

"I am. Ready to go?"

"Yes."

She was mentally drained from the session and drove herself and Erik to visit N'Jobu at the shop. He was managing two new locations and they caught him as he returned to the original Drizzy's Kuts.

N'Jobu's eyes always lit up when he saw them and the moment they stepped into the shop, his arms were around her waist in greeting and he was touching Erik's hair.

"Hey, wasn't expecting you two to pop in," he said.

Califia sat in an open booth chair as Erik greeted three of the other barbers working on customers.

"Can I leave Erik here with you while I run over to see Rolita?"

"Sure. Is everything okay?"

"I got a text from her about meeting at her place with some of the women from Rise Up. Shouldn't take that long. An hour or two."

"Dinner at Nana's still?"

"Yeah."

She kissed his cheek and waved to Erik as she left. Needing Erik to be with the stronger parent right at the moment was important. She needed time with Rolita to lift herself up away from Erik. It was almost like he had extrasensory empath powers, able to read emotions and feelings from people just by looking in their eyes and taking on their weight. It was scary sometimes.

Rolita greeted her at her home with four other women from Rise Up and two men from a local Black activist group. There were snacks laid out in the living room and Califia ate chips from a paper plate with salsa. The mood in the room was solemn.

One of the men pulled out a laptop and showed the women a web page with a list of photos and names. Rolita sat next to Califia and took a deep breath.

"Activists are being murdered," Rolita said.

Califia felt the tension in the room rise.

"Misha Browning was found two hours ago," Rolita said and there was a gasp in the room from everyone.

Califia closed her eyes and steeled her nerves. Misha was a woman Califia had only known and interacted with online in cyber activist spaces. They had coordinated national action plans on police brutality and domestic terrorist attacks on immigrants and mutant humans. She had gone missing a few days previous and word spread by the police was that she had a domestic dispute with a boyfriend and disappeared soon after. But her boyfriend, a man Califia had met in person at a climate change conference in Fresno after she graduated university, was staying on a Scottish Island for a fellowship prior to Misha's disappearance.

There was a pattern.

Up until that moment, ten activists that Califia interacted with personally or knew of through online spaces nationally were dead. Seven of the dead were reported to have committed suicide. Four Black men and two Black women, and two Native women from the Pine Ridge Nation active with pipeline and environmental protests and civil disobedience. Three of them were said to have been murdered under suspicious circumstances. Their mental health was scrutinized and most of the newsfeed on them was swept away. Prominent and vocal activists. Killing themselves?

And now Misha. Found face down under Ohio river debris fifty miles away from her home.

Califia could only think of Lia and then her own self. Rolita too. They were mothers with young children. They were mothers trying to make the world safe for their babies. Could they be targeted next? Could they show up dead and the world told that they committed suicide? It wasn't unthinkable that an activist could kill themselves. Mental health was something they all grappled with and sometimes the world beat them down until killing oneself seemed like a good option. But ten people? Now eleven? Within two years?

Califia sat back in her seat. The rest of her time there long. And painful.

###

N'Jobu sat with Erik at his great-grandmother's kitchen table as he watched his son disassemble yet another one of his robotic toys. Erik had figured out a way to hack into the software of the original robotic programming and rebuild a new larger robot combining four different toys and the pieces of scrap metal his grandfather found for him. He placed the final pieces of the disassembled robot onto the final product.

Erik routed power to his new creation with a handheld and tried to get the strange-looking franken-robot to pick up a mug filled with tea and raise it up to N'Jobu's mouth. A set of spoons and a fork sat on the dining table waiting to be used by the robot to lift up a scoop of fruit loops and pick up sliced mango pieces.

"Be still, Baba." Erik said moving the levers in his hand.

N'Jobu sat still, but the tea mug didn't seem secure in the robot hand as small drops of the liquid spilled from the cup.

"I'm still, Son," he said trying not to laugh as the robot hand grew more unsteady.

"Stop laughing at it, you'll hurt the Daka 3000's feelings," Erik said.

"Oh, you changed its name again. Won't your mother be upset? The Cali 3000 was a nice-sounding name."

"Inventors name things after themselves."

"Why not JaJa 3000?"

"Too soft-sounding. The Daka in my middle name sounds hardcore…Baba, c'mon, be still!"

N'Jobu was leaning back in his seat, his hands up to catch the mug if it dropped.

"I have to perfect this by next week to be ready."

"Is Walter entering the science fair?"

"Yeah, he's working on something."

"You're not going to tell me about it?"

"It's boring."

"Don't say that about your friend."

"It is!"

"Tell me about it."

The robotic arm made it up to the front of N'Jobu's face with the mug. Erik did his best to ease it closer, but it was too jerky. He took a pause and stared at N'Jobu.

"He's making a display of fabrics that can be used to make flak jackets. Bulletproof—"

"So military science—"

"No, clothes for kids. So they won't be shot dead in school."

Whoa.

N'Jobu stared at Erik.

"He's really doing that?"

"Yeah. Lame."

"I don't think it's lame…just…that's pretty hardcore, Son."

"Compared to this? I'm creating a robot that can help the elderly in their homes. Open their pill bottles when they can't, feed them, and help put things away…but Walter's anti-kill clothes is hardcore. Serious Baba?"

"You both have created hardcore things."

"Kids shouldn't have to make clothes like that."

"I agree—"

"Like, make clothes that can let you fly or something…"

Frustrated, Erik snatched the mug from the robot's hand.

"I can't get this to move smoother. I'll have to take it apart. Wish I could get some nanobots for this…"

"Do you want to try the spoon or fork again? That did really well."

"Nah. Thanks for being my experimental human."

"Glad to be of help. Do me a favor though."

"Yeah?"

"Be supportive of Walter. He's trying to make something to help other children. Grown-ups are the blame for that, and it's a shame that a child his age wants to make something like that because we suck, but he is doing something he thinks is a good thing. Support that."

Erik stared at him and nodded his head.

"Who knows, maybe you both will make it to the Stark Expo. That would be exciting."

Erik grinned.

He was so determined to make his robot work. Not just for the Expo.

For Nana Jean.

His son's great-grandmother was ailing. Today she was having a good day and strong enough to make a Friday night fish fry. Relatives were coming over, and everyone was determined to make it a joyous evening of good food and family fun.

N'Jobu could see that the older woman was having a hard time with her health. Her once vibrant face was appearing a bit dull the last few months, and her already thin frame was looking gaunter. She was experiencing bouts of anger when she couldn't do a lot of things by herself like she used to. Like driving. She was having trouble with her hands, periodic shakiness and pain making it difficult for her on some days. But not today. Today she was cooking with the assistance of Erik and N'Jobu.

Erik picked up the tools he used to tweak the wires on his robot when he suddenly reached out and tapped on N'Jobu's kimoyo beads.

"It's lighting up, Baba!"

N'Jobu saw the emergency silver lighting on his beads. They warmed up his wrist.

"I've never seen that color before," Erik said, his eyes glued to his wrist.

The past three years he had told his son his beads were like mood rings and could change colors at will. But he was right. Silver was a new color. Silver was a signal from his fellow rogue War Dogs. Something was wrong.

"Clean this up, and we'll start making the batter for the fish and shrimp," he said.

Pushing back from the table, N'Jobu headed to a guest bedroom, Junie's old room, and locked the door.

"D'Beke," N'Jobu said, watching the man's shape hover over his wrist.

"We have found Klaue. He is ready to move into Wakanda. The time has come your Highness."

N'Jobu shut his eyes and sat on the guest bed.

"Send out a code three, and make sure all cells are on code. No more communications until you all hear from me. Understand? Send me Klaue's contact. We have to be…we have to be…D'Beke if anyone acts suspicious…end them."

"Yes, Prince N'Jobu."

D'Beke winked out and N'Jobu felt his body tremble with excitement and nervous energy.

The time had come to act. No more planning. Action.

"Wakanda Forever," he whispered.

###

Califia felt beyond stuffed. She rubbed her belly from all the shrimp she consumed. Hot, juicy, greasy, salty-sweet delicious shellfish fresh from the skillet. N'Jobu rubbed his belly and Califia watched Erik help Nana Jean fry up more shrimp in cornmeal batter this round.

"Nana. I can't eat anymore," she said.

Nana dropped shrimp into a fry strainer and Erik lowered it and stood back when the grease popped. Nana dropped more shrimp into the bowl filled with the batter.

"Someone will," Nana said, her frame so much smaller from how Califia always saw her as a little girl. She felt it deep down. No one else in the family wanted to say it outright, and Nana Jean was not forthcoming with her health, but Califia knew. Her great-grandmother was battling something and trying so hard to stay on the earth for Erik. That was her child. He may have come out of Califia's body, but Erik was her baby

Erik's mind was set on going to the Stark Expo in New York. He had come so close last year, making it to a semi-final status and receiving a signed certificate from Tony Stark himself. She and N'Jobu had to nurse him through a mini-temper tantrum when he didn't get to be a finalist. He pouted for weeks and wouldn't even hang up his certificate in his room that Nana Jean had framed for him. N'Jobu had to have a sit down with him and remind him of how many people, children, and adults had submitted projects and didn't even make it to the quarter-finals. She remembered the title of his abstract too, "Novel Subtle Acoustic Communication: Successful Elucidation of the Cryptic Ecology of Runner Plant Bugs with Emphasis on Their Stridulatory Mechanisms". He spent three months capturing the faint sound of bugs. Bugs that he had crawling all over his bedroom when a few escaped by accident. She shivered at the memory.

Califia had to chime in and show him the certificate.

"Tony Stark really signed this. A busy man like him took the time to sign something acknowledging your hard work. You should be proud of yourself."

It wasn't until Erik went online to see how many people had entered projects did his own parent's words kick in. There were only twenty-five semi-finalists for his category and his face beamed when he announced, "Just over half a million people entered globally."

For the new year, he switched from acoustics to robotics hoping to be a finalist. And he focused on something more personal, and close to home: Nana Jean.

That big ole heart of his wanted to make his Nana as self-sufficient for as long as possible with a personal elder care robot.

N'Jobu watched her closely after she rubbed her belly and caught his eye. Her mood hadn't been the best when she arrived at the house. The meeting at Rolita's was tough on her psyche and she almost opted to go home and sleep until her grandmother called Rolita reminding her to bring her daughter Neveah.

Erik's cousins and Neveah ran around the front room while Erik cooked at the stove.

"JaJa, go be with the other kids, I'll help Nana."

Erik nodded and she watched her grandmother pat his head.

"Nana, for reals, I don't think anyone else can eat more. Take a break and spend time out front too."

"Dayclean is still eating," she said.

"I am done, Nana. Go relax, we'll take care of all of this."

N'Jobu stood up and cleared the dishes left on the table as a few of Califia's Uncles cleaned up after themselves before heading to the den to watch TV.

"You good?" N'Jobu asked.

"Better."

"Erik told me you looked upset leaving your session today. Want to talk about it?"

"It was nothing serious…really. I was just feeling a way. Venting."

"Did it help?"

"I think so."

He rinsed dishes and stacked them in the new dishwasher they bought for Nana three years ago once they saw she had trouble with her hands.

She finished putting leftovers in the fridge and when she looked at N'Jobu again, his gentle eyes broke her down.

"Let's go in the back," he said when he saw her eyes well up with water.

The house was busy and no one paid them any mind going to the back guestroom. It was quiet back there. N'Jobu locked the door and they both sat on the bed.

Califia wiped her eyes.

"He is too much like me. And I am afraid for him."

"Califia—"

She touched his hand.

"His quick temper. His anxiety. His need to be in control…this compulsion to make things perfect…it's not healthy…and living here, and seeing Lia…I have damaged him."

N'Jobu stayed quiet and she was grateful. Over the years he had to learn how to let her talk things out and not try to offer immediate solutions as he was want to do all the time. She just needed to be heard. Just wanted to let her words linger openly so she could work through her pain.

"I worry about how he will deal with the trauma later in life. Kids bounce back. I know this. Better than adults. But he…you know this about him…he feels too deeply. This world will break his heart N'Jobu. People like that suffer more than most."

N'Jobu continued to listen as he held her hand.

"I worry about him. I told Dr. Davis this. I worry that he has inherited my pain. I pray and pray that he can be more like you, like…if I could take the worst aspects of myself and remove that from his DNA—"

"Stop."

N'Jobu's eyes were watery. He stroked her face.

"I don't want you thinking like this. I don't want you to carry this in your heart. Take parts of you out of him? He wouldn't be who he is without those parts of you. I know I'm supposed to let you feel what you feel, but my son…our son? He is perfect. He is his own person. That is an Udaku Prince out there and you make him perfect. Understand?"

"I want to believe you, I might believe you if…."

"If what?"

"If you would take us to Wakanda. It has to be safer and better there. You heard what Rolita told you at dinner. It's bad out here. You heard about Walter's science project. Fuck is that? Fuck kind of world are we living in. How can we protect Erik? What if something happens to him? What if something happens to us? Who would take care of him? Who would be capable of caring for a child like ours? Huh? Tell me."

"Babe—"

"Why won't you take us away from here? My baby is a Prince. He deserves to live in a world without fear, or where his best friend doesn't make bulletproof t-shirts for his peers. Don't you want him to have the life you had growing up?"

N'Jobu pulled her in with a tight hug when the tears really started flowing down her face. She was so tired.

"My love, don't cry, please…don't cry…"

It was the same quiet fight they had over the years. His refusal to take them home.

They weren't welcome. She knew this. Deep down they were not wanted in his world, and yet it was the only one that could save them. And she didn't understand why he prevented them from contact. Not even a visit. Their son was learning Wakandan. Memorized their alphabet. Practiced writing his name, even practiced a little speech he wanted to give in front of his royal grandparents when they would meet. Even had a gift he made for his cousin Prince T'Challa, a little necklace that would hold secret-coded messages between them.

And yet…

Here they sat with her crying about it once more.

They left the bedroom and joined the rest of the family to eat pound cake and watch Wheel of Fortune, everyone shouting at the tv their guess's at the puzzles. Neveah and Erik giggled like crazy whenever her father Dante guessed words that clearly were made up to make them laugh.

Once they returned home, Erik put away his robot, and she and N'Jobu dressed for bed. They allowed Erik to lounge in bed with them until it became way past his bedtime. She caught that mood from N'Jobu that he wanted to make love, but Erik kept prolonging his stay in their bed by negotiating for extra time with them. They allowed him to watch another half hour of the SyFy channel until he was knocked out and snoring with his head resting on Califia's stomach.

"Hey, buddy, time to wake up," N'Jobu said nudging Eric gently on the shoulder.

"Thirty more minutes," Erik whispered, his eyes wide as if he hadn't been snoring a minute ago.

"So you can sleep again? Go to sleep in your room. I need some Mommy time," N'Jobu said. He started pushing Erik away from Califia.

"Mom!" Erik whined pushing N'Jobu's hands away and trying to stay on her stomach.

"It's two in the morning, JaJa," Califia said stroking his braids.

"Then I should be able to stay since the sun will be up in five hours."

"If you don't get," N'Jobu said pulling on one of Erik's braids.

"Ow, Baba! I know why you really want me gone…you wanna kiss Mom and do the nasty!"

"Boy!" Califia said, a shocked expression on her face as she play slapped his arm.

"Yes, now get," N'Jobu said.

"I can't believe that came out of your mouth," Califia said.

"Why are you being embarrassed?" Erik teased.

"Time for you to get out of grown folks business," Califia said lifting him off of her stomach.

Erik finally rolled over and stood from their bed.

"Y'all some haters, man, for real," he said.

His dimples melted her.

"Who is this child? Where is my sweet JaJa?" she said.

Erik leaned back over the bed and kissed her cheek.

"Night Mom," he said.

"Night, Baby. Sleep well," she answered.

Erik gave his father a sly look as he sauntered out of their room backward.

"I'll just close this so I can get some rest," he said as he grabbed their doorknob and shut it behind him.

"Okay, maybe we should take some of your DNA out of him," N'Jobu said as he wiggled out of his pajama bottoms.

"That was all you, nigga," she said staring as he pulled his t-shirt over his head.

He tugged on her nightgown and she brushed his hands away.

"We can't do it now," she said glancing at the bedroom door.

"Why not?'

"Because he knows that's what we're doing—"

"I don't care, just put the pillow over your mouth," he said pulling the bed covers back and raising up her gown to her hips. She widened her legs and allowed him to lick her vulva slowly, but then she felt self-conscious. Kept glancing at their bedroom door making her stomach tense.

"I can't, not yet," she whispered.

"Babe, stop being silly. I want to make you feel good after a tough day…shit…pussy wet already."

His tongue rested just under her clit as her ring poked out from the engorgement of the slick bud. He gave light pulses there and her legs shot up, her thighs falling open.

"Get the lube," he said stroking his dick.

Reaching into her drawer she pulled out cherry flavored lube. She coated her vulva and opened her wet inner lips for him.

Tongue darting in and out and smearing his lips with her arousal, Califia held N'Jobu's head.

"Let's just do a quickie," she said.

"Quickie, longie, I just need to be in my pussy," he said shifting his body to line up with hers. He inserted his erection and she gasped out loud.

"I'm about to fuck you real good," he hissed in her ear.

Califia stuffed her left hand over her mouth as her right arm held his shoulder in a death grip.

"God, baybee—"

"Mmmmm—"

"Wait, not so hard, the headboard is banging against the wall—"

"Fuck that wall—"

"The noise—"

N'Jobu lifted up and watched his dick slide into her.

They had been working and caring for Nana Jean and Erik so much that it had been a couple of weeks since they had last had sex. And this quickie was just what they needed. If N'Jobu didn't waste any time kissing her, she knew he was desperate to get in her stuff. He couldn't go very long without some sexual contact with her.

"Look at your dick, Jobu," she encouraged, his face so intent on watching her pussy grip his length. His dick was shiny, his dark coloring magnificent. She felt sorry for people who couldn't have Black dick like this filling them up. He was ready to split her in two. She needed this. Needed him. Needed to get her mind off of her troubles.

He pulled out and positioned himself on his side behind her. His hands gripped her breasts but her gown kept slipping down.

"Take it off," he said and she removed it over her head and tossed it on the side.

White light under the door.

Erik was still up.

Califia dropped her head to one of her pillows and bit into it. She could hear how gushy her pussy was, could hear N'Jobu trying his best to keep his voice down but to no avail.

"Damn…damn…," N'Jobu grunted, his hands tightening around her breasts.

"Yes, baby."

"I missed this pussy, girl. We gotta stop playing and make time for us…oh shit…"

"Jobu—"

"Where you want it, baby? I'm ready to cum…oh…Califia…where you want this nut?"

"In my mouth," she said.

"Okay…okay….," he panted.

He kept stroking his dick in her pussy, hitting the side of her walls hard.

His pace picked up, and for a second she thought he would cum inside her because he didn't seem willing to leave her hot folds.

"Turn around!" he shouted.

Yanking out of her, he stroked his thickness as she turned around and lowered her face to his cock.

"Open your mouth…oh shit…baby open your mouth!"

Mouth Open. Tongue out.

N'Jobu slapped his dick on her tongue, his eyes swimming with an all-consuming carnality. Her own fingers plucked at her clit and when his release splashed all in her mouth, she gulped his cum down as her sugar walls clenched from an intense orgasm.

She swallowed everything he gave her, and he spent some time licking between her legs again and giving her another orgasm.

She was about to enjoy the third orgasm from his mouth when a brilliant blue light spilled under their bedroom door.

"N'Jobu!" she cried out.

He turned his head and saw the brilliant fluorescent blue. His eyes shifted in a way she had never seen before.

He leaped up and put on his pajama bottoms. She threw her gown back on and followed him out of their bedroom.

Erik's bedroom door was open, the dazzling blue array coming from there.

"Erik!" N'Jobu shouted.

Their son stood in the middle of his bedroom. N'Jobu's Wakandan beads were on his wrist, the blue light bleeding out from it.

"Baba!"

Erik tried pressing down on a bead.

"Don't do anything else!" N'Jobu said.

But it was too late.

Erik twisted one of the beads and the brilliant blue light filled the entire room and a large holographic image floated above Erik's wrist.

A street scene.

People walking on elevated sidewalks.

Space ships flying in the air.

Black people dressed in ways they had never seen before.

"N'Jobu, what is this? What is that?" she whispered with awe in her voice.

Erik's eyes studied the images and he took his free hand and stuck it inside the field of blue light. It expanded and different color-rich scenes played like a series of split screens spinning in a circle.

A cityscape.

And a futuristic structure that looked like a double palace…

"It's Wakanda," Erik said.

His fingers flicked an image up over his head. It looked like a billboard advertising a car they had never seen before in the world. The lettering was all Wakandan.

Erik's bright eyes stared at her.

"It's Baba's home!"

###

Chapter 24 

Tag List”

@fd-writes​ @soufcakmistress  @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon  @thadelightfulone @allhailqueennel @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky @raysunshine78 @the-illllest @terrablaze514  @l-auteuse @amirra88 @jimizwidow @janelledarling @chaneajoyyy @sweetestdream92 @purple-apricots @blackpinup22 @hennessystevens-udaku @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @bugngiz @stariamrry  @honeytoffee

[uzumaki-rebellion]

One of these days...

One of these days I will write a happy version of N’Jobu and Erik together in an alternate universe where things were different for them and they were able to see the Wakandan sunset together. Until that time, I will continue to write Black Panther smut and angst.

I also would like to explore maybe a short series with Prince N’Jobu and Prince T’Chaka when they were younger, before T’Chaka was married. Maybe the Udaku brothers in happier times before they became a King and a War Dog. Don’t know if anyone is interested in reading that, but I will write it.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2 Chapter 20

Your girl, she go hard in the baste Swangin' on them, swangin' on them, swangin' on my ways Swangin' on my ways Swangin' on my ways I've been thinking like, "Ayy, yo" And I've been thinking like, "Ayy, yo" (Sound of rain helps me let go of the pain) And I've been thinking like, "Ayy, yo" (Sound of rain helps me let go of the pain)

Solange—"Sound of Rain"

Ungubani?

Who are you?

I asked this question of myself many times. Often times, I do not know. But I do know I am no longer the man my country knew. Maybe love? My son?

It has all changed me. T'Chaka must see what we can do, how we can change the course of time for the people who struggle so much in this land. Strangers to me, but my brothers and sisters still. How can I look at them, with the same skin as me, stolen from the same place I came from and not reach out to them? How can I sit idly by and watch in pain and return to Wakanda as if there was nothing to see at all?

Who am I?

A war dog who will not leave the lost tribe behind again. Who are you, my son? You will ask this one day and know the answer: N'Jadaka, son of N'Jobu.

My son.

###

My woman is in pain. We have been back home for a month since Lia's death, and I am set to leave for Wakanda and I am frightened. As a family, we have gone to three sessions with Dr. Davis. I thank Bast that children have the resilience to bounce back from tragedy. Our son struggles. He has good days and bad days, but most of his bad days come from his worry over Califia.

She is not faring well.

She has lost weight from not eating and she suffers from insomnia. She has taken leave from work and spends days in bed. The most that she allows me to do for her is to hold her at night and look after Erik. She self-medicates with edibles so that Erik won't smell marijuana smoke on her.

Lia's family has planned a private memorial for her, and I do not want Califia or Erik to go. She is furious with me, even though Lia's entire family and her own family agree that she and Erik should stay in the States for now. There are plans for a large public memorial next year. There have been protests and marches throughout Brazil and other parts of the world in solidarity with Lia's memory. Califia's pain and anger and lack of concern for her health make me question whether I can trust her to care for Erik when I am gone. Dante and Nana Jean have made plans to step in for me along with Rolita. Dante questions why I have to leave for a month when Califia needs me and the only thing that saves me from his questioning is that I tell him I must work to cover the bills since Califia isn't working. 

I have been bringing Erik over to my apartment to give him some semblance of a normal home life and to also give Califia privacy when her crying gets bad and she begs me to take our son away so he doesn't have to see her. On those days I call Rolita to watch her, and I make the time alone with my son the best that I can. James hangs with us a lot, and he has been a source of strength when I can't speak to Bakari. Erik is crazy about James, and they spend a lot of time playing video games together and streaming anime.

Erik is asleep in my apartment bedroom and I write this on my couch. Tomorrow we will go home to his mother and I will cook for both of them. I miss my woman so much. I miss touching her in that way. I miss kissing her. I miss her laughter. I miss her being that incredible mother to my son. I miss us.

###

This man Klaue will meet with me in the Netherlands. Sita has found a safe place for us to interact. A place that we can control access to. When I return to Wakanda I will know for sure who I can count on among the war dogs. I will also have to gain all access codes in order to lay my hands on the Vibranium I need. I have someone in place that I have turned who can help me. I just have to keep T'Chaka off of my back. He has been very open about keeping me close to him on this trip home. Zinzi has been cryptic about what's been happening, so I suspect she is being watched carefully too because of our closeness.

My meeting with Klaue has to go off without a hitch because my only chance to see him without surveillance right now is when I fly home. I made sure to choose a flight with a long layover in Northern Europe. I will have six hours to feel this man out. If I can use him, I will. Sita was right about him in one respect; he is a little whore for money. My research on him tells me he is willing to do anything for it.

###

N'Jobu dressed in warm layers and kept his dark glasses on when he entered the small villa in Amsterdam. He made sure to enter the country under an alias and not as Prince N'Jobu so he wouldn't have to bring any Doras with him. Sita came as his personal guard and even though she had secured the property and hired extra protection under her control, she was still wary of Klaue. Klaue was told to come alone and was watched and followed to make sure he did what he was told. N'Jobu gave orders to kill him on site if he did not acquiesce to all of his demands for secrecy. N'Jobu would not reveal his identity to the man. All that he was told was that some goods would need to be secretly couriered out of the country in the future and there was a handsome reward for his services if he should be used.

The semi-detached modern-styled steel and glass villa had plenty of open space surrounding it to give N'Jobu's people eyes on the meeting at all times. Snipers were in position, and if the meeting went left, Klaue would be disposed of and N'Jobu would go home and find someone else to ferry the Vibranium out.

Sitting at a small table facing the main glass entrance, N'Jobu and Sita watched a lone brown Mercedes meander up the winding driveway and park.

A short messy brown-haired man in an ill-fitting suit stepped from the driver's door and scanned the villa. One of Sita's hired hands stepped forward and patted Klaue down while another kept a gun trained on him.

"Great welcome committee!" Klaue shouted out loud enough so that N'Jobu could hear him.

Stepping into the villa, Klaue had a nervous swagger about him that was more bravado and posturing rather than real confidence. The Black faces that stared at him as he stood before N'Jobu had the man second-guessing who he was fucking with.

Klaue smelled of an over-dosing of expensive Italian cologne and poor personal hygiene. His greasy-looking hair and body odor offended N'Jobu. The poor-fitting suit was expensive but not tailor-made and looking at the man from head to toe, the watery light eyes, the liver lips, and a hodge-podge of tattoos on his arms, he could tell the little man was new to expensive tastes. N'Jobu's nose crinkled and he pointed to the chair seated across from him. Klaue sat down.

"Well, I'm here. Let's talk," Klaue said, "Mind if I smoke?"

N'Jobu gave a slight nod.

"I'll take that as a yes then," Klaue said slowly reaching into his suit pocket. He lit up a spicy-smelling thin cigarette.

"Ashtray?" Klaue asked.

Sita placed a glass of water in front of him.

"Wakanda," Klaue said.

N'Jobu stayed silent. This made Klaue even more nervous.

He studied the Afrikaner a little more. The future of his immediate family, Califia and Erik, depended on this thin rat-looking thing sitting before him. The only way N'Jobu could help the Black diaspora was through getting his hands on enough Vibranium to support a world-wide revolution. And the irony of it all was that a racist White South African was going to help jumpstart that revolution. And unbeknownst to Klaue, helping N'Jobu would usher in his own demise, the end of White Supremacy and the end of all of those who supported it, even other Black and non-Black people of color.

Sita stepped forward and handed Klaue a small satchel. The man opened it. His eyes seemed impressed.

"Just for showing up? Twenty-Five thousand in U.S. dollars?" Klaue said.

N'Jobu nodded. When he felt the man was going to burst if he didn't speak soon, N'Jobu folded his hands in his lap.

"Your record is clean. And when things have gone awry, you disappear. I like that."

"He speaks!" Klaue exclaimed, holding his hands up and looking around the room smiling hard. Not one Black face gave him warmth.

"This is just part of a retainer. If I like what I hear, then you will receive another seventy-five thousand to help collect your team within the next year," N'Jobu said.

Klaue leaned forward while listening to N'Jobu's voice. He pointed to N'Jobu's face.

"You're…you're not just some radical. The way you talk…you are a higher up—"

"Who he is, that is not your business. You are here to listen and do what we ask," Sita hissed, moving closer to him, her hand on a gun holstered to her hip.

N'Jobu whispered to her in Wakandan to chill. The three other war dogs in the room along with the three hired hands stepped closer, letting Klaue know to watch his mouth.

"I get the feeling that what I am asked to retrieve aren't just some priceless artifacts," Klaue said, the smile sliding off of his face, "Human trafficking?"

This was the part of the conversation N'Jobu was waiting for. The part he wished he didn't have to divulge, but he had to because even though Vibranium was undetectable to outside modern metal detectors and such, it wasn't stable, and Klaue would have to be shown how to smuggle it out safely.

N'Jobu motioned with his fingers for Sita to bring forth the sample of Vibranium enclosed in a protective capsule.

The luminous electric blue glow mesmerized Klaue's eyes. The man's mouth slipped open.

"Fuck it to hell…" he said standing up when the phosphorescent capsule was placed in his hand, "is this really…is this-?"

"Vibranium," N'Jobu said watching Klaue closely.

"I'm in—"

"We still have to discuss my terms and timetable—" "I don't care! I am in. Whatever your terms or timetable. I already know you will pay me well."

Klaue regarded N'Jobu with gleaming eyes. Sita took the Vibranium from Klaue's fingers and he tracked the luminous glow as she placed it in N'Jobu's hand.

"That small amount right there is worth millions. How much more do you have?" Klaue asked.

"Let us speak about your operation. How quickly can you organize a retraction team?"

Klaue took the hint that he would not be told more about their holdings. It was all need to know moving forward.

"Three to four months tops."

"Understand, I will wipe out you and your people if at any time I suspect chicanery."

"I am a professional. I do thorough background checks on all my people. You've done your homework, I'm sure."

"Talk to me," N'Jobu said leaning back in his seat.

The greasy-haired man in the ill-fitting suit leaned forward, a full smile widening his mouth and showing the glint of cheap gold-rimmed teeth.

"I will tell you all that you want to know," Klaue said.

And he did.

###

On the ride to the airport in the secured SUV, Sita kept staring at N'Jobu's face.

"What do you think, Your Highness?" she asked.

"We should not trust him at all, but he has the juice to get what we need to be done completed."

"Will I see you again on your way back to the States?" she asked.

"Yes. D'Beke will join us and we can begin."

Sita's face looked pleased. She even gave him a smile.

"What is happening at home?"

Sita's smile faded.

"The King….your brother…he has been putting dissenters in jail."

"What?"

"There have been political protests taking place in several Birnans. There's a new spiritualist cult that has had some major growth in followers who have been causing problems. Some protests have become rather violent, and King T'Chaka has taken in leaders and incarcerated them."

"What are they protesting exactly?"

"The lack of democracy in a monarchy. What else? The lack of freedom they have to practice their religion—"

"The Udaku family has never shunned nor stopped religious freedom from marginal religions—"

"Maybe in the past. Maybe when your father was King. But King T'Chaka…he is not so tolerant these days. He claims it is an affront to the crown, a wedge issue to fracture the power of his throne."

"You believe this, Sita? Speak freely."

"I believe what I see, and I have seen even moderate dissenters vilified by your brother."

"But jail-?"

"There was talk that one of the incarcerated planned to assassinate the King."

N'Jobu's body jerked when he heard that. His kimoyo beads heated up and N'Jobu tapped his earbud.

"T'Chaka," N'Jobu said.

Sita remained quiet while he took the call by audio only.

###

Califia carefully flipped over the waffle she made for Erik onto a plate.

"JaJa!"

She heard her son's feet running down the stairs, and by the time he reached the kitchen, she had his plate on the kitchen table next to a glass of grape juice.

"Hot off the griddle," she said.

Erik studied her face and she gave him a healthy smile. His face relaxed and he sat at the table.

She passed him the butter and syrup and helped herself to a piece of sausage. Erik watched her plate.

"Got my appetite back," she said.

He gave her some dimples and she forced herself to eat even though she really didn't want to. She made up her mind to force herself through this pain. She was hurt when N'Jobu told her that he wasn't sure that she could handle their household while he was gone. She counted on him to care for Erik while she fell apart, but it fractured their relationship when he treated her like an irresponsible child. Calling people to watch her and Erik when he left the house. Each time she cried, the look on his face made her feel like he wished she could just get over what happened to Lia quickly so that she could cater to him once more.

Their last night together before he left for Wakanda was pleasant, almost their regular interaction as a family. She worked hard to show him that she was capable of being present for their son. It was also the first time they had sex together since Lia's death, and she only did it to please him, to make him feel like she was okay even when she didn't feel okay. It took her a long time to get self-lubricated, but their kissing took up a lot of time and allowed her body to ease into sex before he could notice that her senses were not in tune with his.

N'Jobu kissed her mouth for a long time before his hands even reached for her breasts or even tried to touch her between her legs. He was so happy and touch-starved for her that his focus was on sections of her. Her lips. Her tongue. Her throat. The tender spots behind her ears. The space between her breasts. Her nipples. Her belly. Her inner thigh and hips.

He kissed and licked her vulva as if it was his first time being down there, and by then, she was wet enough to accommodate his desperate erection. The moans and raspy grunts that fell inside her ear as he pumped in an out of her pleased her. She could still take care of him physically even if she wasn't really there emotionally for him. She opened her legs wide and when she looked up into his face, it was contorted in deep pleasure. His forehead creased tighter and he was exhaling hard pants.

"Califia…Califia…"

Back in Brazil she was depressed, anxious, and scared about his leaving, hungry for any physical contact with him. But now? She was ready for him to leave. She needed to grieve longer without the judgment in his eyes, without him making her feel guilty if she broke down in the middle of the day.

She put her pussy on him thrust for thrust and held his shoulders, her breath coming out faster as she felt him reaching his peak.

"Daddy—"

N'Jobu's lips thrust out when she said that.

"You ready for Daddy to cum?"

"Yeah—"

"Tell Daddy you want him to cum—"

"Jobu—"

"Tell me Califia…baby…tell me…"

He was gasping, twisting her leg to get leverage for more friction.

"…this pussy…" he growled in her ear.

"Yeah," she exhaled.

She could feel the solid fullness that his dick always filled her up with, but she wasn't really feeling anything, not in the way she wanted to but could not reach because of the trauma she was clinging to. She wished she could let go like him. Use sex to get a mental release. Her body wasn't giving her any signs of wanting to orgasm. And N'Jobu's dick was going at her hard as fuck. Their bed was shaking.

She wanted this to end before she started crying in the way that would upset him. She cradled his head and pressed her lips close to his ear.

"Cum in your pussy, Daddy…"

She dragged out the word Daddy so that it sounded reckless and raw and she felt her man seize up tight then thrust his hips into her hard, his voice gone. The swelled pulses coming from his dick only secured the knowledge that a flood of hot semen was coating her insides. She would still be dripping his seed even when he was flying across the Atlantic. And a nut that good to him would only encourage him to seek more.

He kissed her lips and along her neck, and when he pulled out of her, his mouth sought to eat her folds to make her cum. But she pulled him back up and hugged him. Once he realized she didn't want any more sexual contact, he held her tight and rocked her in his arms.

"You okay?" he asked, kissing her cheek.

"I'm fine. I just want to make you feel good."

"Let me take care of you, baby."

"You did," she said playing with the thick ejaculate spilling from her pussy. His eyes watched her fingers and he stroked his dick.

"I'm going to miss you," he said, his voice getting tight from seeing her shove her fingers inside her pussy.

"I'll miss you too," she said.

She played with her pussy lips for him until he lost it.

"Look how you make me nut!" he cried out, shooting cum on her fingers as she held her labia open for him. He had soaked up their sheets with his sweat and cum, but he held her on top of him until he fell asleep. When he was softly snoring, she crawled off of him and showered. Cleaning her body, she let her tears fall with the warm water flowing over her.

Her thoughts snapped back to Erik, and she surprised herself by eating more than she thought she would. Maybe her appetite had finally returned. Maybe she could get it together while N'Jobu was gone.

"We're going to see Grandpop and Nana Jean today," she said.

"Cool," Erik said stuffing his mouth with waffle.

"Baba, leave a voice message yet?" she asked.

"No. He texted that he made it to Atlanta. I missed the call on my phone," he said.

Califia had checked her phone, but nothing was there. He probably thought she was sleeping in again. At least he texted. She knew he was in Amsterdam for a layover. He always sent an email from a burner account when he made it to Wakanda.

Erik was watching her again.

"What?" she asked smiling at him.

"Nothin'. You look happy."

"I am happy."

Erik picked at his plate unsure of something.

"We're going to be okay, baby."

"I know you miss Auntie Lia, Mom. I miss her too."

The sound of her name still hurt and Califia felt her eyes prick with water. She fought to be strong. Their first day alone together and she didn't want her son to feel unsure of her. She crammed a sausage in her mouth and picked up a glass of orange juice.

"Nana wants to know what you want for dinner."

"Pizza—"

"Pizza? Nana said she was cooking and you want pizza? Boy, are you crazy!"

Erik giggled. He drank his juice and pushed back his plate.

"Enchiladas."

"That's better," she said.

After she cleaned up the kitchen, she drove them over to her grandmother's and as they walked up the hill to reach the house, they found Dante inside the garage working on his latest project; restoring a 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle, midnight black, a pure brute swinging 450-horsepower battle axe.

Dante was on a roller under the car when they saw him.

"Hey now!" he said.

"Grandpop!" Erik squealed.

Dante rolled out from under the car and picked Erik up. He gave Califia a kiss on her cheek and patted her shoulder.

"Looking good, Cali," he said.

"Thank you, Daddy."

"There's my baby!"

Nana Jean walked out from the front porch.

"Nana, stay up there, we'll come up," Califia said heading toward her grandmother.

Erik ran past her and hugged Nana Jean's waist.

"Dayclean make it okay?" she asked.

"Yes," Califia said.

"Good."

Nana Jean made Erik help her fold laundry while Califia cleaned up the kitchen for her grandmother to make her enchiladas later in the day. Keeping busy with her family kept her mind away from sadness and she felt good. Real good.

She went into the small family room to do some dusting of cobwebs and family photos and her eyes caught sight of an old picture on the fireplace mantle of her and N'Jobu on the porch holding Erik when he was a baby and Califia felt her chest grow tight.

Seeing N'Jobu's face took her breath away and she felt guilty. Guilty for not giving all of herself to him before he left. Not just her body and mind, but her spirit as well. Lia was about moving forward, no matter what, and Califia let herself get stuck because of the rage she still felt. Erik was so adorable as a baby and the memory of that day weighed on her. She had sent that exact picture to Lia and Soliel, and Lia had texted her the moment she received it and told her to raise her son up well and strong.

She pulled her cell from her jean pocket and called N'Jobu's burner phone. The voicemail picked up right away.

"N'Jobu…baby, I miss you. Call me when you make it there…when you can get privacy. We're over at Nana's and everything is good. I just…I want you to know that I'm here. I'm here for our son, and I'm here for myself. I'm here for you. I need to hear your voice, okay?"

She wiped away a tear and smiled, still looking at the picture and his beautiful face. Those gorgeous teeth. Those full lips. The lips he gave their little boy. Those eyes that Erik also had—

Her cell buzzed and she recognized the burner number. She swiped her screen.

"Califia."

His voice made her gasp. Erik walked up next to her.

"Mom…"

"It's Baba," she said, wrapping her arm around Erik's shoulder.

"I'm leaving for Wakanda soon. I'm so glad you called me," he said.

"Babe…I've been so lost since we came home. I know you have tried your best to be understanding. I was stuck—"

"I know, my love, I know—"

"I promise you that you can have faith in me getting through this—"

"If I made you feel—"

"I shut everything out and made you take care of everything. It wasn't right. I'm standing here in Nana's family room and she has the picture of you and me when we first brought Erik here. I saw your face, baby…I saw your face and I forgot that you need me too…"

She could hear his voice shuddering over the phone like she had made him cry. He exhaled hard.

"I love you," he said, his voice soft and full of longing.

"I love you too…hey, quickly, talk to Erik before you have to turn your phone off," she said.

She handed the phone to Erik.

"Baba…yes…yes. I will. Uh, huh. They are fine. I know…I will. I love you too. Okay…"

Erik handed the phone back to Califia. She wiped her eyes with her free hand. Her nose felt runny.

"My love. There are some potential problems back home. My brother has some political dissenters, so I may not be able to speak to you as often as you would like. But don't worry. I will text and email you when I can—"

"You'll be safe right?"

"I will be fine. My brother will need me around him more, and because of that, I won't have a lot of privacy for security reasons."

"Okay," she said. He had confidence in his voice, and she knew that once he was in Wakanda, he would have his Doras with him. And those sistas did not play.

"Tell me you love me again," he said.

"I love you…we both love you very much—"

"Bye, Baba!" Erik yelled into the phone.

"Until I see you both again. Be well, my love."

Her lip trembled a little when he was gone. She looked down at Erik.

"Shall we go help Grandpop with the car?"

Erik nodded. He threw his arms around her waist and pressed his head into her chest.

"Don't worry, Mom. Baba will be back soon."

She stroked his hair and kissed the top of his forehead.

###

For security precautions, N'Jobu was escorted into Wakanda over the border of Canaan inside a military Tusk Fighter aircraft instead of one of the Royal crafts. Once he was flown secretly into the country, he was driven by a super discreet convoy with Ometeko and Yejide by his side. His two faithful Doras were thrilled to see him, but also hyper vigilante in watching over him as they moved through several Birnans to get to the golden one of his birth.

His parents greeted him under the cover of darkness as he was ushered into the palace.

His mother could not stop touching him, exclaiming that he looked a bit worn. Lia's death and his family struggles hovered over him, but speaking to Califia and Erik earlier in the day made him feel confident that he could get through this check-in.

As he walked through the palace and headed up to his brother's private suite, he thought of Califia and how their last night together was so one-sided in affection. He wanted her so bad that night.

After he had put Erik to bed and joined Califia in their bedroom, she was fully naked under the covers. He hadn't seen or felt her nude body in so long that the moment he slipped under the covers and felt her naked thigh and hip touch him, the thickening of his penis didn't take long. When she had allowed him to penetrate her, it felt different. She was going through the motions but he couldn't quite get her to connect with his pleasure. They had always had the ability to create a mesmerizing feedback loop in their intimacy, but that time, it didn't happen. Instead of stopping, he became selfish and took what she gave because he missed her sexually. He needed her body. He needed to feel her tight ring of muscles surrounding his manhood. He needed to feel those big tits and see them bouncing. He needed to feel his semen spurting inside of her, his sack draining weeks of build-up. He let his desire for her override any reason to stop and make sure she matched his vibe.

At that moment, the sex was great for him, but it was like the sex he had while in school; all about the pleasure that his dick got without concerns about love or the other emotional aspects of two humans connecting. They didn't make love. He just fucked her. And he was all about the fucking because he hadn't had it in so long.

But talking to her…hearing her tell him that she would be fine…she made him cry. She made him determined to push forth and plan the best strategy to free them all.

The elevator ride up to T'Chaka's suite felt long, but once he stepped out with Ometeko and Yejide by his side, his dip had returned to his step. His entrance into T'Chaka's private quarters was full of confidence.

"Uncle N'Jobu!"

T'Challa's voice surprised him and when N'Jobu turned to look at his nephew, his eyes grew wide for a second at how much older he looked. The twelve-year-old appeared before him in his royal purple pajamas, his once full head of curly hair cut short and tapered. His voice even sounded different. Clearly, puberty was upon him. N'Jobu's heart ached staring at him. He held out his arms and his nephew ran into them, hugging him hard.

"My nephew! What are you doing up so late?"

"I wanted to see you as soon as you arrived. I have missed you so much, Uncle!"

"Oh! How I have missed you too!"

N'Jobu saw his brother enter the room. No smile on his face. Just worry. And something else. Indignation.

N'Jobu saw another young boy standing off to the side, his big round eyes shyly watching N'Jobu as if he were in awe.

"And who is this?" N'Jobu asked, waving his hand for the child to step forward.

"W'Kabi, stop acting scared. It is only my Uncle. Uncle N'Jobu, this is my best friend, W'Kabi," T'Challa said.

"W'Kabi…W'Kabi? Why do I know your name?" N'Jobu asked. He could see the child wearing a blue night robe with the Border Tribe's dark blue sigil sewn into the collar. A horseman with a fluttering blanket wrapped around the shoulders.

"My father protects the borderlands, Your Highness," the boy said. He bowed his head to N'Jobu.

"Tankiso is his father,' T'Chaka said.

N'Jobu did his best to keep his reaction neutral. He knew the boy's father. Tankiso would be N'Jobu's inside man to help him smuggle the Vibranium out of Wakanda and into Niganda with Klaue when the time came.

"Pleased to meet you, W'Kabi," N'Jobu said. He held out his hand to shake, and W'Kabi stared at T'Challa first and then T'Chaka.

"Do not be foolish, W'Kabi, you can shake my Uncle's hand. He is a Prince like me. Not the King!" T'Challa laughed.

W'Kabi smiled and took N'Jobu's hand. It was a firm handshake and N'Jobu was impressed by the confidence he felt there.

"Alright, boys. Off to bed now. Prince N'Jobu and I must talk," T'Chaka said heading toward his private bar.

"Goodnight, Uncle," T'Challa said hugging N'Jobu once more. W'Kabi bowed and N'Jobu watched the two children leave the suite followed by T'Challa's personal Dora.

"They are like brothers," T'Chaka said handing N'Jobu a small glass of plum liquor.

Brothers.

If Erik were here, he would probably join along with his cousin, the three boys staying up late and giggling, maybe even running around the palace in secret like he and T'Chaka did when they were young boys long ago.

N'Jobu sipped the plum liquor thinking of his son. Erik would wear the silk robes of the Golden Tribe, N'Jobu's family sigil sewn into the collar. He could imagine hearing the sound of Erik's sweet laughter ricocheting off the high walls and ceilings of the Eastern Palace. The soft patter of Califia's feet would probably echo in the halls as she would no doubt be the one to hustle the boys back to bed. For a second, N'Jobu closed his eyes and tried to see her wearing his royal robes and returning to the large bed in his suite down below. He so wanted to make real love to her again. Body and soul together.

"No problems getting into the country, Baby Brother?"

"No," N'Jobu said opening his eyes back up and finishing the plum liquor.

"Sit," T'Chaka said.

N'Jobu padded over to the couch near the expansive window that reflected the twinkling of city lights below.

"Things are not well here."

"I have been made aware," N'Jobu said.

"Your thoughts?"

"I am shocked that the one man you have imprisoned, the one they say tried to plot an assassination…what proof do you really have to keep him incarcerated—"

"Proof? Are you implying that I would just throw someone into confinement just on a whim?"

"From what I have gathered on my own there has only been speculation and flexing—"

"Would you have me wait for outright harm to come to me or to someone in our family first?"

"Of course not—"

"Then why question my rule?"

"Will this man have a trial?"

T'Chaka waved his hand at N'Jobu.

"Enough. No more talk of this. It is not your concern."

T'Chaka poured more plum liquor into his glass and he held up the bottle for N'Jobu.

N'Jobu took the bottle and poured more in his own glass. They both sipped and eyed each other. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," T'Chaka said.

Whoa.

A voluptuous young woman with flashing eyes stepped into the room wearing a long mauve River Tribe styled evening tunic.

"Your Highness," she said, keeping her eyes respectfully downcast when she saw N'Jobu. She was beautiful, her hair tied back allowing her thick braids to fall down her back and N'Jobu knew exactly what she was there for.

"Prince N'Jobu, let us speak more in the morning. Breakfast with Baba and Umama in the sunroom?"

"Yes," N'Jobu said, standing up. He glanced at the woman again and he couldn't help but let his eyes wander over what his brother was playing with at night. He knew for a fact that T'Chaka had several women in rotation for many years. It drove their parents crazy. Umama in particularly hated mistresses being anywhere near the palace, no matter who they were messing around with. Rumor had it that their own father tried to have a young plaything early in his marriage to their mother, but Umama took an ancient knife that allegedly belonged to the very first Black Panther, Bashenga, and threatened to cut off his scrotum and end the entire royal line of Udaku forever if he ever brought another woman into the palace. The fact that he and T'Chaka existed let N'Jobu know that his Baba must've stayed on the straight and narrow. There was no doubt that his mother would kill their father and any woman he had back then or now.

No wonder they wanted T'Chaka married again.

"This is Dineo. She will accompany you to your suite."

N'Jobu's eyes widened.

"A nice homecoming companion for you. It must be tough to find a beauty like this out there," T'Chaka said winking.

Crude. Distasteful. What was this? From his own brother?

Dineo allowed her eyes to rest on N'Jobu's face and he saw her lips part when she got a good look at him.

"Goodnight, T'Chaka," N'Jobu said putting his drink glass on the bar and leaving the room. Dineo followed him and Yejide followed them both.

When N'Jobu reached the private elevator, he turned to her.

"I do not need you," he whispered discreetly so Yejide didn't hear. Not that she didn't already know what Dineo was there for.

"I must accompany you to your suite regardless. The King has demanded this. Please, do not cause me trouble, Your Highness."

Dineo rode the elevator with him down to his suite.

When they reached the outside of his quarters, Ometeko looked shocked to see Dineo at his heels.

"Do not ask," he said to Ometeko as he swept into his space.

Dineo was right behind him when the doors swung shut.

"I am here. You can leave," he said, surprised that the woman even stepped into his private sphere.

Dineo fingered her braids and then allowed her long lashes to flutter as she placed her gaze fully on his face, all pretense of deference gone. She wanted to be there with him. Gently tugging on the clasps that held her tunic closed, the loose clothing dropped to her feet.

Shit.

Her nipples stood at attention as she played with them, and all those curves that the tunic hinted at earlier were more than true once fully revealed.

"I am here for you, Your Highness," she whispered.

"I understand that, however—"

"I hear you are known to make women cry when you make love to them, Your Highness."

He hadn't had sex with a woman in Wakanda for almost a decade.

"Dineo—"

"I have heard all the stories from here to Azania about you. I want you to make me cry," she said stepping toward him.

If this were another time, he would be all over this girl and rearranging her insides. But he had a woman at home that knocked him off of his feet, even five thousand miles away.

He turned his back on her and headed to his bedroom.

"Do not make me have you escorted out, Dineo," he tossed over his shoulder as he pressed his kimoyo beads opening his suite's front doors.

"Your Highness," Ometeko called into the space without entering.

"Please see to it that Dineo makes it back to her own home," N'Jobu said before slamming his bedroom door shut.

###

"N'Jobu."

His body relaxed when he saw Califia's face on his computer.

She was snug in their bed inside their townhouse.

"Erik is still asleep. Do you want me to wake him?"

"No, let him sleep. I sent him a recorded video for him to see when he wakes."

"How are things?"

"I'm still feeling things out. My brother is dealing with some political dissenters, some policy changes...blah, blah, blah." He tried to make things sound mundane to comfort her.

"You're not tired? You should be exhausted."

"I am," he said.

"It's raining here," she said, "a good clean rain. Everything smells so good outside."

"You sound well, my love."

"It's the rain. It makes me feel brand new. But it's not the same without you here to enjoy it with me."

She sat up in bed and he saw that she was nude.

"Baby, really? You know I'm on the other side of the world and you sit up there onscreen with those beautiful tits teasing me?"

She fondled her nipples for him.

"You're killing me over here," he said.

She really was, he felt his cock fatten in his pants.

"Let me really put you six feet under then," she said, peeling back the covers, showing him already plump glistening folds.

"Were you playing with yourself?"

"Mmmhmmm, right before you called," she sighed, her fingers plying her labia open.

"Fuck…Califia…"

N'Jobu groaned loud in his room and yanked down his pants.

Three fingers deep, Califia fingerfucked herself for him as he damn near stroked all the skin off of his dick.

When she came calling his name while staring at him, her legs spread wide, he shot thick ropes of his own cum onto his chest. He fell asleep to the sound of the rain falling on their skylight and her fingers playing with her clit ring, her voice softly telling him she loved him.

It was a blissful rest.

Chapter 21 HERE.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First (Chapter 8)

Chapter 8

"You don't know babe When you hold me And kiss me slowly It's the sweetest thing And it don't change If I had it my way You would know that you are

You're the coffee that I need in the morning You're my sunshine in the rain when it's pouring Won't you give yourself to me Give it all…"

"Best Part" Daniel Caesar & H.E.R.

The official edict from N'Jobu's parents regarding his getting around the city was that he was never to take public transportation. When he attended the London School of Economics during undergrad, two Dora Milaje were assigned to tail him at all times and put a dent in his social life. He wanted things to be different while he was in the U.S. and insisted that he did not need the Dora Milaje to babysit him.

His imported BMW had been retrofitted in Wakanda to have the latest surveillance and protection tech to keep the Prince safe while he was in America. Bullet-proof, bomb-proof, and laser-proof, the vibranium enhanced automobile could withstand any manner of attack. Even poison gas.

Spending the day with Califia and her friends caused N'Jobu to disobey the edict when he decided to move around with them without the use of his car. Hidden away in his bomber jacket was a light-weight vibranium body shield that he could activate if necessary. Not one time during his first year in California did he ever have to use any weapons to keep himself safe. He kept a low profile, often using fake names in different places to keep off anyone's radar.

It was so refreshing for him to ride the BART system with the group and mingle around regular citizens outside of school. It also meant he could drink a little more and not worry about driving while intoxicated. The sizeable group from the museum voted to go hang out at a popular microbrewery on Haight Street. They arrived in time for Happy Hour and were able to secure several tables that they pushed together near the street-facing window.

N'Jobu sat across from Califia and Soliel who were busy drinking bitter red ales while he took his time savoring a cider Califia had picked out for him to try. It was a ginger-grass cider brew that packed quite a punch. She made sure to have a small carafe of wine available in case the cider wasn't to his liking. His skin felt tingly from the cider, and his brain was buzzing with the conversation and company surrounding him.

He glanced around the table to take in their party: Bakari and Shavonne cozied up next to each other sharing a plate of bacon-wrapped dates with goat cheese. Langston and Rolita tucking into French-fried asparagus and cauliflower. A young man named Reynaldo who appeared to be the youngest of their group and who was carded by the waiter much to the delight of his friends who teased him about his baby face.

Soliel's girlfriend Aunjanue was arguing with Califia and Soliel over a new rap album that dropped online. The three of them shared a meat plate of andouille sausage and currywurst sausage with a side of russet potatoes. N'Jobu picked at his own meal of grilled romaine salad with a heavy dose of bacon vinaigrette. Aunjanue was adamant that her assessment of the album was correct and she was holding court at the table to prove her point.

"The problem is, all of you expect rhyme styles to stay the same. What you all call mumble rap is just a new evolution of the culture," Aunjanue said. She wore a thick topknot of black braids, her dark brown skin having the same reddish tint as Califia. Soliel had her arm around the back of Aunjanue's chair.

"Part of the culture is knowing what a muthafucker is saying," Califia blurted out, causing the entire table to laugh.

"James Brown often sang words that we had no idea what he was saying, but we don't dog him out," Aunjanue leveled at Califia.

"Slow your roll, Aunjanue, James Brown was often doing that Gullah talk, so just because the masses didn't understand it, don't mean people like him didn't. Get on that, Cali," Bakari said pointing at her.

"Gullah?" N'Jobu asked Califia. She took a quick swig of her ale and looked at him.

"My great-grandparents are from Georgia, Geechie country. Um, we're known as Gullah people. They were descended from enslaved Ibo who lived on some of the small islands off the Georgia coast. Their language is a mixture of Ibo, Creole English and a little bit of Muskogee Creek. Native American. They say a lot of James Brown's grunts and groans was Geechie talk."

"Do you know any of it?"

"Me? Nah, that's old-timey talk."

"You should look into learning it, Califia," Rolita said, "my tribe is teaching our young people, but too many of our elders are passing on, so we're losing some things."

"Rolita's people are Yurok. California indigenous." Califia said.

"Ah, yes, Yurok," N'jobu said, pouring himself a glass of cabernet from the carafe.

He was familiar with the more well-known Native American groups. But he had never heard of the Gullah before. Creoles and New Orleans history were more familiar to him. He knew very little about Georgia or Califia's people. But he found it interesting that the Ibo were part of her roots.

"Speaking of my people, please tell me you all are coming out to Alcatraz on Thanksgiving," Rolita said tugging on her two short braids and snacking down on an asparagus stalk.

"I'm going," Soliel said.

"Me too," said Califia reaching for the carafe and pouring herself a half glass of wine.

"You know I'm down," said Bakari scooting back his chair to give Shavonne room to get up. She headed back towards the restrooms in the pub.

"What's happening in Alcatraz? Isn't that an old prison?" N'Jobu asked pouring the rest of the wine into his own glass. He glanced over at Rolita.

"Several different Native American groups get together to do a sunrise celebration instead of recognizing Thanksgiving," Rolita said. "we've been doing this for over forty years now. I would love for you to come with us," Rolita said.

"I will do that," N'Jobu said, pulling out his cell and updating his personal calendar.

"You have to get up early man, the crack of dawn's ass," Bakari said.

Rolita went into a little more detail about the gathering, and as he listened, N'Jobu began to get a clearer picture of Califia's world. Most of her friends were activists of some sort. She also had a very diverse group of friends from all walks of life who were committed to various social justice causes. Everyone seated at the table was a person of color, and N'Jobu wondered if she had any white friends or peers that she associated with. N'Jobu didn't get a sense of animosity towards whiteness or white people from the group, but he was eager to know if their activism precluded having to engage with other white students. The mere thought of that didn't sit with him very well.

His own very selective peer group was just as diverse, but he did have quite a few white schoolmates he engaged within his department at school and in his social life. Also, his major tended to be filled with more white students. He began to think that Califia and her friends self-segregated much to their detriment. An open hand could do more in the world than a closed fist.

Their waiter came by the table again and N'Jobu requested another glass of cider from the jovial brunette who kept filling his side glass of water every chance she got. The conversation moved onto reality TV shows they were keeping up with, and then the movies they wanted to see. He kept his eye on Califia, enjoying her laughter and the soft chiding she gave her friends when they disagreed about things. When she became passionate about a topic, her voice would raise an octave and her eyes would squint as if she were going to use the force of her will to bend them to her side. A couple of times she jabbed her finger into his shoulder to make her point and he savored her touch. He was finishing his second glass of cider when she reached for it and drank the last cool dregs.

"That's not bad," she said, a smear of her lip gloss staining the small glass she still held in her hand.

"Would you like to share another?" he asked. Before she answered, two men outside knocked on the thick glass of the pub staring at them. She placed his glass back near his hand and he watched her gaze at the men entering the pub. Bakari stood up slapping hands and bumping shoulders with both men. One was a tall slender Latino with tats on his arms and wearing an Angels baseball cap. The other was a medium-build black guy with twists in his hair and TV star looks. The black guy and the Latino made their way to the empty seat between N'Jobu and Califia.

"Babe," the black man said kissing Califia's cheek.

"Hey, Xavier," Califia said, looking nowhere in N'Jobu's direction. Greetings went around, and Xavier's friend Julian grabbed another chair from an empty table and further added distance between N'Jobu and Califia.

Xavier was affable, everyone else at the table except for Shavonne knew him, and N'Jobu sensed from Califia's terse expression that something was off in their relationship. Xavier was leaning into her, but her shoulders leaned more towards Soliel.

The pub grew louder as more customers filled the brewery, and there was music playing above the din that made it harder for N'Jobu to keep up with all the conversations that were going on. The only person he wanted to focus on was Califia, but Xavier was making N'Jobu vacillate between staying and leaving the group. He didn't like sitting near her with some other dude hanging off her. His jaw kept getting tight every time Xavier dipped near her face and whispered in her ear.

At one point he caught Soliel's eye, and he thought for a moment that she could see right through his discomfort. N'Jobu checked his cell for the time and was astonished at how late it had gotten. They had been in the pub for over two hours. The sun was setting in a fiery crimson splash outside when the check finally arrived at their table. The group left behind a healthy tip for their server, and once they were all outside, N'Jobu had to stomach Xavier throwing his arm around Califia's shoulder.

"There's a bar down the street that has reggae music tonight. Julian's homie plays the drums. Y'all up for that? Free cover charge," Xavier told everyone.

"Free is enticing," Rolita said throwing a light jacket on.

N'Jobu pulled on his bomber jacket and checked his cell again. Andrea was blowing up his phone.

"Are you interested in checking it out, N'Jobu?" Califia asked. Xavier was looking at N'Jobu, his left arm draped over Califia, his hand dangling near her left breast. N'Jobu wanted to reach over and pull the man's hand and arm away from her. His whole day today had been special because he had time to be around her, share parts of himself with her, got to know how her mind worked when she was excited about something, and now he felt restricted because her man was with them. Her man.

N'Jobu swallowed thickly, shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. He had a light buzz and Califia was staring at him with those cat eyes of hers that took on a sultry look from the rays of the setting sun. She pursed her lips like she was about to say something else and Xavier led her away to lead the pack towards the next hangout spot. Man or no man, N'Jobu needed to be near her. He tagged along despite his misgivings.

###

Califia stood near the back of the bar listening to the reggae band do a fair rendition of "Sun is Shining". She was swaying along with the heavy bass rhythms, Xavier next to her with his fourth beer in his hand. She kept her mouth shut after his third beer, but the fourth one was causing him to act a little sloppy in public. The bar was packed with eager dancing patrons, their little posse bringing in the smattering of color in an otherwise predominately white space. Behind her, N'Jobu sat on a barstool enjoying the vibe and downing a rum and coke. He was only five feet away from her, but she could feel his eyes on her, boring into the back of her head. Xavier had been extra touchy-feely with her in the reggae bar and it made her feel uncomfortable because he was only doing it when N'Jobu was near them.

The first thirty minutes in the bar had been fun, the entire group dancing on the small cement dance floor. N'Jobu had been snagged by a pretty sandy-haired white woman, and Califia enjoyed watching him sway to the loud music. He was actually a pretty good dancer and she catcalled him when the music got good to him and he flashed her his pearly whites and she felt her cheeks raise up higher than usual when she smiled back at him. That's when Xavier caught a whiff of something between them and started fondling her more openly. He wasn't one for public PDA, but Califia's flirty behavior around N'Jobu kicked it up a few notches.

N'Jobu had switched out his dancing partner for a cute black woman with a sexy frohawk, and the live band high-powered through a classic Dawn Penn jam. Califia's arms were casually draped around Xavier's neck as she watched N'Jobu dance and talk to the woman, his hands sliding up and down the woman's back. N'Jobu wasn't wearing his jacket while dancing, and the woman was rubbing her hands up and down his arms.

Xavier spun Califia around and pressed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing his crotch against her ass.

"There it is baby," he said, singing along with the song and dry humping her, "arch that back girl, show these fools how it's done."

Xavier's hands slid down from her shoulders and held her waist, his hips gyrating and thrusting against her. She stepped away from his grip, turning to face him with a rigid smile on her face. She could feel his dick pressing into her stomach when she hugged him.

"Be good," she hissed at him as she tried to ignore the pokes his hardness was giving to her.

Over Xavier's shoulder, she could see N'Jobu watching her, his eyes gone narrow. She gave him a little wave and he nodded at her. She noticed his hands were riding just above his partner's butt and her lips pressed together in a tight grimace when she felt Xavier's hands grabbing and separating her ass cheeks with his hands.

"Baby you feel so good," Xavier murmured. His mouth crashed into her lips while she was still staring at N'Jobu. His kisses were sloppy and over-exaggerated and Califia endured it until the song ended. As the crowd clapped, Califia pushed away from Xavier.

"I'm going to get some water," she said, hurrying away from him.

Now they were standing together and listening to music, Xavier giving harsh whispers in her ear every other minute.

"Why are you tripping tonight?" Xavier asked.

"You are doing a little too much for me."

"Like what?"

"I don't need you molesting me in public."

"Molesting you? You're my woman. We're having fun."

"I'll keep it buck then, you're not holding your liquor and I don't like how you're touching me."

"You crazy."

Xavier walked into the crowd to get closer to the band. Califia drew in a deep breath and released a sigh of relief. The last thing she needed was for Xavier to get loud and make a scene, embarrassing her in front of her friends. She turned around to go back to the bar and found N'Jobu still sitting and watching her.

"Everything okay?"

"Not really."

She sat on the stool next to him and asked for a coke from the bartender.

"Trouble in paradise then?"

"Tuh," she answered. She drank her coke and watched the band. The room was jam-packed to the rafters, she couldn't even see where her people were, not even Xavier.

"The music is very good," he said.

She stared at N'Jobu knowing he was trying to lighten her mood.

"You are a good dancer," she said giving him a sly smile. She saw his eyes relax and it made her feel better.

"You are much better. I like watching you move."

She smiled again.

"You want to dance?" he asked.

"Not right now, if that's okay. I just need to chill for a minute. Xavier's got my pressure up."

N'Jobu nodded, set down his drink and slipped off the stool.

"You don't have to go," Califia said quickly, reaching out and pulling his arm back. She looked at her hand on his arm and pulled away fast. She hadn't meant to grab him. She looked desperate and her face grew warm.

"Sorry," she whispered.

N'Jobu didn't get back on the stool, but he did stand in front of her. He was close enough so that his thighs were touching her knees. He was almost eye level with her.

"What's the problem with you and Xavier?"

Califia tilted her head back and laughed in a way that had a little bite to it.

"Everything," she stammered, and then caught herself with her open honesty. N'Jobu's eyes didn't press her, but they did make her feel safe. She took a long sip of her coke and leaned in closer so N'Jobu could hear her clearly. She was cognizant of the fact that her knees were pressing hard into his thighs at this point. Her head was still a bit foggy with the drinking she did earlier, but she was comfortable.

"Earlier he told me he had bought tickets for us to go to New Orleans for winter break. But I wasn't even sure I wanted to go. I told him that. He was upset that he paid for a ticket I might not use. That's the first thing." She took another sip of coke, "You really don't need to hear this, it's boring," she said.

"No, keep going. It's good to talk things out with other people. I'm a good listener," he said.

His voice had grown deeper, at least that's how it sounded to Califia. His expression was like that of a Priest patiently taking in a confessional with no judgment.

"Xavier is a great dude. He's smart, educated, about to get a bomb ass job-"

"And very good-looking," N'Jobu said smiling at her.

"No doubt. On paper, he is everything a woman is supposed to want. But sometimes I look at him like it's not enough. Like he doesn't get me. He's the longest relationship I've ever been in, but I feel like there might be something else out there better for me. And I feel like shit for thinking that when other women would give their teeth for a man like him."

She shook her head at how easy that flowed from her mouth. She hadn't even said those things to Soliel or Bakari. But here she was giving somewhat intimate details about her boyfriend to a man she had masturbated over. Many times. Jesus be a rock.

"Serah told me to break up with him."

"Why don't you? You aren't happy, right? Just end it."

Califia's chest hitched a bit and she felt the pinpricks of a small tear forming in her right eye.

"I don't want to hurt him," she murmured and the lone tear fell down her cheek. She reached up to wipe her cheek, but N'Jobu already had his left thumb on her face wiping the teardrop away.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," he said. Califia took in another deep breath and released it. She felt a shudder go through herself. There. She had finally confessed her real reason for not breaking up. She didn't want to hurt Xavier.

"I keep hoping he'll dump me, or we'll have this huge dramatic fight where I can act belligerent and he just tells me he quits, but it never happens. We are in this stalemate. Comfortably numb. I tell myself there has to be someone that's a better fit for me, but I'm scared there won't be, and what if I leave him on a whim and I never find that other person?"

N'Jobu still had his thumb on her cheek.

"You'll never know if you don't let him go, Califia."

"I'm holding him hostage, aren't I?"

N'Jobu only gave her a sad smile.

"I'm such a selfish bitch. I need to make a decision soon."

"I wish you would," he said, his voice gone husky, almost like a command.

Califia stared at N'Jobu. His thumb traced down her face and touched her lips. The sensation of his thumb on her lips tickled and sparked the skin there. She pursed her lips so that the touch felt like a kiss. Another tear formed in her eye.

"You are beautiful when you are angry, you are beautiful when you laugh, and you are even more beautiful when you cry," he said.

"Thank you," she said, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I wish you weren't with him because I really want to kiss you right now," he said.

The strumming in her heart turned into a gallop as his eyes swept down to her lips. The music in the bar was far away, the voices of the other patrons gone mute in her mind. She opened her thighs and pulled him closer to her, holding onto his arms. He rested his forehead on hers and she closed her eyes. She tried to match his steady breathing, but her own breathing was erratic. She could smell the rum on his breath as he let his hands run up her thighs and rest on her hips.

"Califia," he said.

"Say my whole name," she said, still clutching his arms, afraid to move, afraid to escape his warmth.

He chuckled and whispered in her ear, "Califia Stevens." Her toes curled in her heels, and the tingle from his tongue swiping her ear when he spoke her name felt like the fluttering of butterflies. She could probably cum from him just whispering her name over and over.

She pulled her forehead away from his and cradled his neck with her hands.

"Say my name again," she told him.

###

When N'Jobu opened his mouth to speak her name, Califia pressed her lips into his and slipped her tongue inside his mouth. He didn't back away from her. He didn't tell her to stop. Their tongues swirled around trying to find an acceptable rhythm, and when N'Jobu's hands pressed into her lower back, she ceded control of their mouths over to him. Now in control, N'Jobu plundered the heat he found between their lips encouraged to keep his pace by the soft humming he heard deep in her throat. He slowed down to enjoy the wet smacking sounds they gave off. He pulled her closer to the edge of the barstool leaning back just a bit so that she couldn't feel the strain of his cock growing thicker in his pants.

Kissing her deeply, slowly, wetly, he found his mind feverishly trying to gather his wits. Xavier was in the room somewhere, possibly heading back to them, or maybe even her friends would spot them and break up their joining. He had been dying to kiss her all day but felt the opportunity would never happen with Xavier there, but here they were lip-locked, with Califia sucking on his tongue the way he imagined her sucking on his dick.

"Califia, shit," he growled in her mouth, threading his fingers through the back of her bushy hair and yanking hard on it so that she was looking up into his face from the force of his grip.

Her lips were parted and he could see that magical tongue between her teeth. Her eyes were half closed and up close he could see how thick her eyebrows were. He kissed the freckles on her nose, pulled her hair harder and buried his face on the side of her neck, nipping her on a spot just shy of her collarbone.

He started lightly sucking on her neck, enjoying the whimpers spilling from her lips and the quivering from her thighs. He could feel his dick twitching in his pants, probably already spilling sticky beads of pre-cum inside his boxers. He needed to stop or he would be fucking this girl on the barstool and not giving a fuck who was in the room.

He pulled away from her, panting a bit himself and giving up more space between them. No one seemed to be paying attention to them, so he hopped up on his stool and gulped down the last of his rum and coke.

He watched Califia run her fingers on the edges of her lips to fix the last of her ruined lip gloss. She closed her legs and tugged on her top, peeling away the material from the sweat on her upper body.

The girl with the frohawk ambled over to N'Jobu and asked him to dance and he jumped at the chance to get away from Califia, escape the dizzying power she had over him now that she had laid that kiss on him. He didn't even look back to see what her reaction was to his leaving her at the bar. He just needed to escape. And time to think.

He had women all over, and was free to kiss, flirt, fornicate and break hearts if he so desired. All his women were free. But Califia had Xavier. She wasn't free. And as much as he wanted her (in his bed, on his face, sitting on his dick), he was not down for any triangle. After that kiss, he needed to fuck her in every position possible before he left for Wakanda. If she fucked the way she kissed, he was a dead man. And she was worth dying for. Courtney, the girl he was dancing with tried getting his attention. They danced to a song called "Night Nurse", and Courtney was body rolling and smashing her cute ass against his groin, keeping him hard. He looked around to see Califia at the bar with Rolita, Soliel, and Aunjanue. They were having an animated discussion from what he could tell, and he wondered if the conversation was about him.

The band's last set was finished and terrible music replaced it from a D.J. who didn't follow the theme of the reggae vibes but instead blasted the audience with Euro-Pop. He felt his cell vibrate. Checking it he saw that everyone was meeting outside to say goodbye for the night. N'Jobu thanked Courtney for dancing with him and went to retrieve his bomber jacket from coat check.

The others were lingering on the corner away from the bar. Califia was speaking to Xavier in hushed tones, and N'Jobu knew she wouldn't break up with him right then, but he prayed that it would be tonight. He hoped she would do it quickly because there was a fire in his spirit that he didn't think he could suppress for very long.

He prided himself on being respectful, but deep down he knew he could fuck her while she was still with Xavier. If she couldn't break up with him because she was scared, he knew he was willing to do it for her. He was a Prince who had never been denied what he wanted when it came to women. He wanted Califia. Wanted her bad. The way she kissed him told him she wanted him too. He felt empathy for her situation. Xavier was a long-term love that had soured. She needed to uproot the man and make room for N'Jobu. Watching the shaky couple speak to one another bugged the hell out of N'Jobu. Now that he tasted those lips and felt those thighs and hips, he was ready to bulldoze Xavier out of the way in a heartbeat.

"I think you should come home with me."

N'Jobu overheard Califia telling Xavier to go with her. Xavier, a little loopy in the legs was pushing her hands off of him.

"Naw, I'm going to hang out with Julian a little bit. I'll be home later," Xavier slurred, kissing Califia on her cheek.

"We'll be fine, Califia. I'll have him home no later than midnight. He won't turn into a pumpkin, I promise," Julian said waving goodnight to everyone. The two men lumbered off into the night laughing together, and N'Jobu eased his way over to Califia and Bakari.

Hugs were given, goodbyes were shared, and N'Jobu soon found himself walking to a BART station with Bakari and Califia. The ride to Xavier's apartment was mellow. They talked about the band, how good the music was and which pale ale or cider they liked the best.

In no time they were walking Califia up to Xavier's apartment.

"Hey, the Syfy channel is having a Godzilla marathon. You want to make popcorn and watch the next one coming on?" Califia suggested.

"Microwave or hot air?" Bakari asked.

"Hot air, with real butter," Califia said.

"You down?" Bakari asked N'Jobu.

He was. He would get a chance to see where Califia crashed, and spend a little more time with her, even if Bakari was there. The night was still young.

###

Xavier's place was small. The bathroom was inside their bedroom. N'Jobu relieved himself of the last vestiges of liquor in his system. Snacking on fresh popcorn and bottled water, he felt clear-headed and fully hydrated.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he couldn't help but stare at the double bed that Xavier shared with Califia. It was unmade. He pushed thoughts of them together in that space out of his head. She didn't want him anymore. There was no need to harbor any envy towards Xavier. According to Califia, he was a good dude, but not the one for her. On a folding chair near their bed, N'Jobu spotted a pair of skimpy bikini panties and a lace bra. He gritted his teeth. Why did she stay here if she didn't want him? She had a grandmother who had a house and friends with places. Hell, she could stay with him and Bakari.

He stopped his train of thought. Slow down, he told himself. She was a chick he wanted to dick down in the worst way. No need to be thinking roommates and shit. His lust was writing checks he knew his ass couldn't cash. He'd lusted after women before, but he hadn't given thoughts to moving them in. It was just his male ego wilding a bit at seeing where another man fucked Califia. He clenched his fists. She was going to be his soon. Stop tripping.

When he returned to the livingroom, Bakari was still curled up in blankets on a bean bag near a plush maroon couch where Califia was seated. They each had fresh bowls of popcorn. Califia passed N'Jobu his bowl.

"Lots of butter this time," she said. N'Jobu sat next to her, keeping his legs on the floor and away from Califia's legs which were curled on the couch. They got through half of a Godzilla movie on Monster Island when Bakari fell asleep, snoring into the bean bag.

"We should leave," N'Jobu said, staring at Bakari slumped low inside the beanbag, the blanket surrounding him covering his face.

"No rush, Xavier's not coming back tonight. You guys can crash here if you want."

"Your man knows Bakari very well, but he doesn't know me. That will probably not be cool with him."

He saw Califia flinch a bit when he called Xavier her man. He stared at her, glanced at her lips, then looked into her eyes again. He wanted to devour her lips.

"Should we talk about the kiss at the bar?" she asked.

"Only if you want to."

"I do."

He waited for her to speak. She was wearing a long button up Wonder Woman nightshirt and thick wool socks on her feet. Her hair was still blooming all over her head.

"It was wrong of me to do that. Especially since I'm still with someone. I shouldn't have put you in a messy situation."

"I don't care."

Califia blinked at him several times.

"You don't?"

"I like you a lot, Califia. I want to spend time with you. It just so happens you are with someone. As soon as you fix that, I will properly step to you."

Her mouth fell open, then shut, then opened again. N'Jobu reached over into her popcorn bowl, snagged a few buttery kernels and popped them into her mouth.

"I think of you all the time, Califia. And the way you kissed me tonight was…whoa."

She chuckled. He reached out for her hand. She looked down at him, then placed her left hand in his.

"What about you? Do you think of me?" The playful lilt in his voice moved her. He kissed her hand, still waiting for her to answer.

"I do, and I feel so guilty about it."

N'Jobu held up a hand to stop her from negative talk.

"The heart wants what the heart wants. Leave all the bad thoughts you have about your situation behind. People grow apart. It is natural. You say you are worried about not finding someone after you leave him. Who am I to you?"

Bakari snored loudly and shifted in the bean bag, but neither one of them was worried about him listening to their conversation. Once Bakari was knocked out, he was out.

"You don't want to answer me?"

"It's just a lot N'Jobu."

"I understand that. But…who am I to you?"

"Someone I'd like to know better."

"As a friend only?"

"No."

He put his bowl of popcorn on the floor and pulled a tense Califia onto his lap.

"Relax," he said holding her by her waist and legs.

"This is weird for me," she said.

"How so?"

"We've only hung out together a few times, but it feels intense each time. We know nothing about each other. And yet…"

"And yet what?"

She shrugged and hid her face in her hands.

"I don't know. It feels like it did when I was nine and had my first crush."

"I am honored to be your grown-up crush."

Califia giggled.

"Can I kiss you again?" he asked.

She nodded and he lifted up his face and found her lips once more. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and his left hand held her face. The kissing this time was gentle, still filled with longing and exploration, but N'Jobu wanted to relish the moment without waking up Bakari. He made sure not to nibble or suck too hard on her neck, not wanting to leave love bites for Xavier to see in the morning. When the thought of Xavier crossed through his mind again, he broke from their kiss leaving Califia sighing in frustration.

"Can I touch you?" he asked.

She nodded vigorously, and he kissed her again, licking the outline of her lips and then sucking on her tongue, tasting the salt and butter from their late-night snack. Her nipples had beaded through her nightgown, and N'Jobu reached up and tugged on each one through the cloth. He watched Califia bite back a moan when he touched her, so he tugged harder, looking at the protrusions. He unbuttoned the nightgown down to her belly, freeing her breasts. When he saw them in the glow of the television, he looked up at her face, his fingers pulling on each nipple. She did her best to remain silent, but she bit into her full lips, and the vision of that made him squeeze his eyes shut and shift her ass harder onto his dick.

Califia rotated her hips and ground herself into his lap, feeling the swelling of him push back on her.

"N'Jobu, suck on my nipples…please."

He obliged, his lush lips taking turns wrapping around each ripe nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue at varying speeds. He liked how big her nipples swelled, so he kept alternating his ministrations, sucking on one and tugging on the other, the pulling sensation so intense for her he guessed because she was whimpering up a storm on his lap. She started bouncing on his dick and he let one of her nipples slip from his mouth with a loud pop because it was too much for him. He wanted to play with her pussy, but that was too risky. They were already pushing it with Bakari on the floor covered up and snoring like a banshee.

"Damn," she uttered under her breath, her eyes finally opening back up to stare at him, "I can feel your dick….so…big," she gasped. He shifted her on his lap so that she was facing him, her thighs spread on either side of his hips. He could see and play with her big tits fully as she rocked on him. He didn't want to pull up her nightgown to see her panties. It was enough to have her grinding on him. He held her shoulders and alternated sucking on her tits and fondling them.

"Can I touch you?" she asked.

Holy Bast, he wanted her to. But he couldn't. He could barely contain himself with her jockeying on his lap. He didn't even want to lift up her gown and look at her pussy which had to be soaking her panties.

With his teeth set on edge, he whispered, "No."

The look on her face made him feel horrible like he had stolen a gift from her on Christmas like the Grinch. But then she twisted her bottom lip and bit on it again, and the look of denied pleasure she gave him made his dick jump in his pants and she felt it.

"Califia, sithandwa sam, you have me so turned on, I could cum right now."

"We could go into the bedroom," she said, lifting up. He yanked her back down hard by her hips. She gasped. His eyes narrowed when he looked at her.

"I'm not going into that bedroom with you. When I take you all the way, it will be in my bed. Understand?"

She nodded. The thought of that double bed brought out tight cords in his neck.

"Did you fuck him today?"

Her eyes widened and her mouth parted. But she didn't answer him.

He lifted up her nightgown in the back and slapped her ass hard with a wide-open palm. Her body lurched forward, forcing her to grip his shoulders for balance and she quickly glanced over at Bakari.

"Don't look at him. Look at me. Answer the question. Did you fuck Xavier today?"

He rubbed her full left ass cheek with his right hand, knowing the sting was wearing off, even as his dick swelled bigger from striking her. She took it like a big girl. He slapped her ass again in the same spot. She squeezed her eyelids shut, keeping all sound inside herself. He rubbed her ass tenderly, lifted up the smacked cheek and squeezed it. Damn this girl was too much for him.

"Hit me again and I'll tell you," she snarled at him.

N'Jobu felt his eyebrows raise up on his face. He gave her a nasty smile and struck her other ass cheek twice, hard enough to make her wince and suck on her teeth. He rubbed the tender flesh. Then squeezed both her round globes in his hands. He needed to end this soon.

"Tell me," he whispered. There was a hint of desperation in his voice. She picked up on it and ran with it.

"What if I did?"

She was gyrating on him and he did his best to stay on task, to not shut his eyes and let her dominate him for a while. She was pushing him to his limit. He knew she would, eventually. She started bouncing on him again, learning very quickly that he liked that. Her motion made her titties bounce too, and he sat there watching heaven on his lap. If he didn't get her off of him soon, he was going to nut in his pants. He was too old to have cum in his pants and not inside a woman he wanted. He yanked her by her hair and pulled her face closer to his.

It would be easy to take Bakari home in his car, then drive back to her in his own BMW and fuck the wokeness out of her. But this was not the time and most definitely was not the place. He twisted his fingers in her hair tighter, letting her know she'd better stop playing with him.

"Ow, Jobu…baby," she pleaded. Good God of the worlds. He loved it when she called him that. No one had ever called him Jobu. He was going to countdown and rejoice on the day he finally blew her back out.

"The question," he said.

"Yes. I did. I fucked him. Early this morning. I fucked him."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Why do you care?"

The corners of his mouth lifted in a wicked smile that made her bite her lip again. He released her hair, unfastened his pants and pulled down his boxers just enough to release his dick that bobbed against his stomach once it was freed. He grabbed her right hand and placed it on his cock. She squeezed it, gripping the swollen head so tight he gritted his teeth to keep from spilling all over her hand.

"This is your dick now. Understand? I don't want you fucking him ever again. You break up with him. I'm not going to rush you, Califia. But this will be waiting for you."

He let her stroke him. His dick was so slick with pre-cum that they both enjoyed the slippery sound of her hand running up and down his shiny length. She leaned in and kissed him while she stroked him.

"This mine?" she whispered in his ear.

"All yours," he said kneading her tits and plucking on her nipples once more.

She stopped playing with his dick and shoved her fingers into her panties.

"Don't you want to touch me here?"

He released her breasts and zipped up his pants. He drew her back in for another wet kiss then pulled away from her.

"When I touch you there and make you cum, you have to be a free woman."

Califia fastened her nightgown.

"You should go then," she said.

Califia shifted in his lap and stood up, grabbing the popcorn bowls and taking them into her kitchen. N'Jobu adjusted his private parts and woke Bakari up from the floor.

"Let's go, Bakari."

It took N'Jobu nearly ten minutes to get Bakari awake and shuffling to find his shoes. N'Jobu took Bakari's car keys from his pocket. Califia was back from the kitchen watching them.

"Do you need some help with him?" she asked N'Jobu.

"I'm awake, I'm awake," Bakari fussed at her.

"I'm driving," N'Jobu said.

"Bet," Bakari said heading out the front door and down the stairs to get to his car.

N'Jobu stood by the open front door facing Califia. She didn't move towards him.

"I meant what I said. I won't rush you," he said.

"Okay."

A new awkwardness permeated the room. They both felt the shift in the air, the change in their interactions weighing heavily on them. She was not his woman, but he had staked a claim on her. Told her directly. She wanted him too, he was sure of that. The ball was in her court. He wouldn't act until she came to him first. For the first time in a long time, Prince N'Jobu Udaku was at the mercy of a woman for affection that he craved like air. He wanted….no, needed, he needed her to give herself to him. No strings. No wounded lover on her mind.

"Goodnight, Califia."

Chapter 9 HERE.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Wet Sugar

Summary: Erik Stevens has fully embraced his new identity as Killmonger and infiltrated a mercenary group with ties to Ulysses Klaue. Invited to St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands to meet for the first time, Klaue is impressed with Erik, unaware that the man before him is the son of Prince N'Jobu Udaku, a man he betrayed on a failed mission in Wakanda years ago. 

Erik ingratiates himself to Klaue and is found to be a useful member of the new mercenary team the black-market arms dealer and smuggler is putting together. As a reward for hard and profitable work, Ulysses allows Erik to stay a summer at his stash/safe house to keep a close eye on some stolen artifacts hidden there. 

Erik uses that time to hatch the long term plan of using Klaue to gain access into Wakanda, however, he becomes distracted by Klaue's housekeeper who allows Erik glimpses into a possible different life he could have if he ever let go of his plans for revenge...

NSFW. Smut. Mature Audience Only. Complete 30 Part Story. The sequel will be in Volume 4 of the “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First” Book Series. Follow me so you can be updated! Please share if you enjoyed the book!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen

Part Nineteen

Part Twenty

Part Twenty-One

Part Twenty-Two

Part Twenty-Three

Part Twenty-Four

Part Twenty-Five

Part Twenty-Six

Part Twenty-Seven

Part Twenty- Eight

Part Twenty-Nine

Part Thirty

Find More Erik Adventures Here!

[terrablaze514]

★Black Panther Masterlist★

Another page! Finally!

∆ = Violence | § = Angst | ₱ = Smut

Please be advised that things may change if this platform fails. Most fics are for MATURE AUDIENCES only, unless otherwise stated. I don’t write incestuous ships, and I don’t do that “Age Ain’t Nothin’ But A Number” stuff, either. Now you know. I’ll be able to catch up. One of these days.* ~AngelT

★We Built This City series★

Mystery Shopper? ((Erik-centric)) (for @wakanda-inspired) *Teaser*|*Official* 13+

We Built This City (multipart) eventual Redeemed!Erik + T'Challa *Teaser 1*|*Teaser 2*§∆ *1*2*3*4*5*6*7*8*9*10*11*12*13*14*15*16*17*18|AO3 version ∆§₱ 18+

Baby Jaguar Hype! (Baby!Erik, T'Challa+Shuri) (for @chaneajoyyy and @allhailnjadaka ) (1)₱ | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | AO3 | Pillowfort 1*2*3*4*5*6*7 | WordPress 1*2*3*4*5*6*7 K+ (Please be advised there’s a brief smut mention in Part 1)

★Crawl Into Your Sleep series★

The Meet and Greet (oneshot) = M'Baku x Muse (for @muse-of-mbaku) *Teaser 1*|*Teaser 2*|*Official* 13+

Crawl Into Your Sleep (multipart) = Erik x Reader, M'Baku x Muse, T'Challa x Reader *Teaser 1*|*Teaser 2*|*Teaser 3*|Part 1 (Official) *2*3*4*5*6*7*8*9*10*11*12*13*14*15*16*17*18*19*20*21*22| Pillowfort link 1 | WordPress| AO3 version ₱∆ 16+

Angel In Disguise (oneshot) = Erik x Reader, M'Baku x Reader∆§₱ *Teaser*|*Official* 18+

Amethyst Necklace (oneshot) = Erik x Reader∆ Official | AO3 | Pillowfort | WordPress // With Love, From Wakanda for @purple-apricots and @hoopshoney \ 16+

★Multiparts★

M'Baku’s Insane Adventures = M'Baku x OC, Evil/Pesky!T'Challa + Erik, Ayo x OC, shortlived Okoye x W'Kabi, tricky!Shuri § *Teaser 1*|*Part 1* (short, and somewhat angsty)§|*2*3*4*5*6*7|AO3 version13+

Yawn Instead… = Erik x Reader (for @naomi-shambles and @ljstraightnochaser )₱ *Part 1*|*Part 2*| *Part 3*|*Part 4*|*5*|*Interludes*| AO3 version 18+

Umdlalo (M'Baku Wins) (1) (2) 13+

Tumblr After Dark Radio Show (featuring T'Challa, M'Baku and Erik) (1) 18+

★One Shots★

Social Media Woes = Erik x Reader (for @supersizemeplz)₱ *Teaser*|*Official* 16+

Spice Up Your Life (starring Okoye, Nakia, Shuri and Ramonda) **Women’s History Month Special**

★Broken 4th Wall★

Disruptive Musings (Parts 1 & 2) 18+

More Disruptive Munsense (M'Baku Wins)

Trifling Munsense

When Adulting Sucks (M'Baku and Erik)

Disruptive Munsense - Hidden Episode (Erik & T'Challa)₱ 18+

Disruptive Munsense (Erik is RUDE!)

★HeadCanons★

Erik Stevens as a High School Teacher (Part 1) 16+

★Crossovers★

Death Returns (BP/GW Crossover) 18+

★Crossover HeadCanon★ (MCU/OUAT)

Upcoming Posts (to Tumblr, Pillowfort, AO3 and WordPress)

1) Team Up! (Shuri + Spider-Man) *WBTC*

2) Fight, Flight or Freeze? (Implied T'Challa x Nakia & past Erik x Linda) *WBTC*

3) Life Is a Parable (3 installments) = T'Challa + Erik, N'Jobu x OC, T'Chaka x Ramonda, Okoye x W'Kabi, Erik x Linda, T'Challa x Nakia, Shuri + Peter, M'Baku x OC, Erik x OC, T'Challa x OC, M'Baku + T'Challa (+ Erik) ₱§∆||Lost Sheep (1)(2)(3)(4)(5)(6)(7)(8)(9)(10)|Lost Coin (1)(2)(3)(4)(5)(6)(7)(8)(9)(10) | Prodigal Princes (1)(2)(3)(4)(5)(6)(7)(8)(9)(10)

LIaP HeadCanons => Waking Up In September | Betrayal | Familial Murmurs | “I will always find you!”

4) Disruptive Munsense (BP part 4)

5) Maintain the Lie (T'Challa’s POV). For @bribrisback *LIaP*

6) Growing Up Wakanda (Headcanon set)

7) CrazySexyCool Spin-off (Erik, T'Challa and M'Baku listen to TLC’s album and have a debate) *CIYS*