#T'Challa x OC

[artisticestheticreads]

Me just waiting for y'all to see the new chapter of SummerTime Magic:

-SWEET BABIES-

@muse-of-mbaku @im5ftbutmythroat66 @chaneajoyyy @melanin-samii @theunsweetenedtruth @doux-ciel @unicornluvin8765 @vikkidc @wakandantings @thadelightfulone @mzamethystp @simbiann @tropicalsun10 @babydoll756 @notoriouslynay @vminax @quinsly @pinkdemolition @quietstorm-73 @chaoticcashfancroissant @bugngiz @chocolatedippedinhoney @yafavcocoa @lostgalaxies @mbakuwife @youreadthatright @babygotl01292003 @acceptyourselfloveyourself @madamslayyy @yoyolovesbucky @theogbadbitch @wakanda-inspired @bitchacho25 @toniilaney @wakandascrystal @girlsneedlovingfanfics @raysunshine78 @melodyofmbaku @hearteyes-for-killmonger @silenceisplatinum @thickemadame @shookmcgookqueen @heykillmongerluhme @fonville-designs @cutewylie @allhailqueennel @10bsatatime @nickidub718 @lildashofmelanin @allhailqueennel @amirra88 @hakunalive4eva @thickemadame @ghostfacekill-monger 

[tchallasbabymama]

Ménage à Trois Part Deux: Chapter One

Hey there! Mholo! Sawubona! What’s been up??? I know y’all missed me, and I missed y’all too. I think I’m figuring out the whole work/life balance thing a little better, but I still have less time to write than I used to. That being said, it might take longer than before, but I just couldn’t wait to start this series finally! For those of you who are new here, welcome, and check out the first part of this series HERE before you read part 2. Also, check out my masterlist HERE to see my other stories.

Your feedback is always appreciated, so leave comments and please, please, PLEASE reblog if you like what you read. As always, just let me know if you want to be added to this taglist, and ENJOY!😘 

Word count: 5,023

T’Challa looked out over the bustling Golden City and tapped his long, slender fingers against the side of his leg. An annoyed grimace tightened his handsome face while his eyes frantically searched the skies for even the tiniest hint of movement from the west. Even though the king desperately wanted to pace around the room, he stood still while his tailor put the finishing touches on his suit for the night. His agitation grew as the time ticked on, but despite his less-than-pleasant mood, he couldn’t help but admire himself in the mirror when he caught a glimpse of his reflection. The embroidered black ensemble he chose for the occasion covered his streamlined body like running water. The locs that usually dusted his jawbone were twisted back into an elaborate bejeweled bun, and he looked every bit a king.

A knock at the door eased T’Challa’s anxious mind for a second until his younger sister swept into the room in her suit that mirrored his, just with a silky golden scarf draped across her shoulders. T’Challa’s own shoulders slumped with disappointment, but he pivoted to positivity quickly enough for Shuri to miss his initial reaction. 

“Look at you copying your big brother,” he teased her.

Shuri rolled her eyes as she crossed the room, but she still dapped him up in their special way. He was still her favorite person, no matter how much he annoyed her. 

“Whatever,” she sucked her teeth. “I wear it better than you.”

“Who lied and told you that?”

“Zora. And she’s about as honest as they come!”

T’Challa’s jaw tightened at the mention of her name.

“Where is she, anyway?”

“Late,” grumbled the king. 

“I should have known,” Shuri chuckled. “She also never gets anywhere on time.”

T’Challa grunted in response, and Shuri noticed the annoyance in his voice. She put up her fists, playfully tapping him on the shoulder with a weak jab.

“Come on, bro. She’ll be here. Chill out.”

“She’s two hours late.”

“Was there a problem with the opening?”

“No. According to Okoye and Bahati, they just could not pull her away from conversing with the crowd.”

The princess smiled.

“You know how Zora is. Or has it been so long that you’ve forgotten?” she asked him dramatically, with a hand to her chest. 

“Just wait until you meet someone. You’ll finally understand why being apart is so painful.”

“It’s been two weeks, T’Challa. You’ve gone away for longer on missions before.”

“Being the one left at home makes the time move slower.”

“I guess.” Shuri shrugged as she plopped down on the end of the bed and began picking at her fingernails–an anxious habit that she rarely resorted to. T’Challa immediately caught on to her discomfort, and his overprotective nature flared in his chest. He hated when Shuri wasn’t her normal bubbly self.

“Something bothering you?”

“Just your mother.”

T’Challa laughed away the tension that had built in his shoulders just that quickly.

“What did our mother do this time, Shuri?”

The exasperated younger sibling groaned as she fell backward onto the bed, “She won’t stop trying to set me up!”

“Who is it now?”

“Nakia’s younger cousin, L’Nela.”

T’Challa’s face scrunched up disapprovingly. Even the tailor stopped moving the lint roller across the king’s chest to look at Shuri in disbelief before continuing his job. 

“She’s not your type,” T’Challa stated as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

“You know that. I know that. All of Wakanda knows that! But mother is horrible at lesbian matchmaking. Bast bless her for trying, but I don’t know how much more of this I can take, brother!”

“I will talk to her,” the king chuckled at her dramatics.

“Well, actually, I came to see if Zora would-“

T’Challa’s kimoyo beads chimed with the tone he had reserved for his love, and the communication bead rolled down into his palm. 

“Speak, and she shall appear,” he grumbled as Zora’s hologram smiled at him apologetically.

“I know, I know, I’m late-”

“Two hours, Zora?”

“I couldn’t just cut off the Ghanaian ambassador and ignore the excited children, T’Challa.”

“Brother’s been in a sour mood all day,” Shuri tattled from her spot on the bed, and Zora chuckled before her picture cut out momentarily.

“What are you doing?” T’Challa asked with an accusatory tone, his eyes squinting curiously.

“Getting dressed-“

“Just now?! It’s a two-hour ride!”

“I needed a nap!”

“I tried to tell her,” snarked Bahati, now promoted to Zora’s assistant, as she helped her into her attire for the evening. 

“Not you both ganging up on me! I can be late to my own damn event if I want to. And need I remind y’all I’m not even that late? We’ll be landing in a minute.”

“A minute?” T’Challa asked for clarification, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“More like ten, kumkani wam.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Bahati.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Bahati,” Zora mocked. “You know, sometimes I think she’s your favorite.” 

“It’s because she listens.”

“She’s paid to listen; I’m not.”

“Don’t I know it,” T’Challa smirked, and Zora mirrored the expression. 

“I’ll be there soon, love.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

————-

Racing through the central African skies on the Royal Talon, Zora ended the call and allowed the makeup artist to touch up her gold eyeshadow while Bahati zipped up the side of her backless black jumpsuit.

She knew she was pushing T’Challa’s nerves by running so far behind schedule, but Zora liked it when he was all worked up about one thing or another. Granted, that wasn’t actually her intention this time. She really did get caught up at the grand opening of the new Wakandan International Outreach Center in Accra. Still, she recognized that she should have planned for that possibility instead of booking a gala immediately after.

After two years of working with T’Challa and foreign dignitaries to bring her vision to fruition, Zora was finally kicking off her student exchange program. One hundred students of all ages, fifty from Wakanda and fifty from across the diaspora, would trade places for a semester. Zora spent countless hours pouring over applications and hand-picking who she thought would benefit most from the carefully crafted program. Now the diaspora students were coming to Wakanda for a warm welcome. 

As excited as Zora was for her exchange program to begin, she was running on fumes and needed time to relax and refuel. Not only had she just left Ghana, but she and T’Challa had just visited several Outreach Centers before that. Their trip started in Oakland at the very first Outreach Center. Then, they made stops in Houston, New Orleans, Chicago, D.C., and Atlanta before finishing their rounds in Charleston, where they met their goddaughter for the first time. Unfortunately, T’Challa couldn’t visit long because the elders called him away to handle a security problem near the southern border, but what little time he spent with the new addition to their extended family was more than enough to make an impact on Zora.

Indigo Ayers-Odun, daughter of Keisha and Dakarai, absolutely took Zora’s breath away. She was the best of both her parents, with her mother’s catlike eyes and her father’s broad smile. Zora and T’Challa were both tickled by how cautious the little girl was with them initially. Dakarai’s cautious nature shone through her before Keisha’s bubbly personality took over once she determined they were trustworthy enough for her to bless them with her laughter. She was a little miracle. One that captured the attention of everyone around her and made them wonder about making little miracles of their own. 

Zora got caught up in the magic. As soon as she observed T’Challa playing with the infant, she began wondering if maybe the time was right to try for one. She thought of her belly stretching and her hips cracking to make way for a baby that she hoped looked like her twin, and a warmth filled her chest. Those thoughts didn't stick around long, though. They were quickly shot down by her logical mind telling her she was too busy for babies, but they still lingered in the back of her consciousness like a dull headache.

T’Challa noticed the way Zora’s eyes seemed to look past Indigo into the potential future, and M’Baku saw it when she called him on her kimoyo beads so he could see the baby while stuck in Jabariland. Neither man mentioned their observation, but they both held onto hope that they could become parents soon. They tried to hide their baby fever from Zora so she wouldn’t feel pressured, but she knew what they wanted. And as the days passed by, she wanted it more and more, too…

The thought of a tiny hand wrapping around her tattooed finger made Zora sigh as her eyes examined the design, and Bahati smiled knowingly at her friend. 

“Missing your Jabari man?” she asked.

Zora simply nodded, not wanting to get too deep into the true reason for her melancholy. 

“The gala will fly by, and you can be together after.”

“I know,” Zora sighed again. “I just hate having to treat him like a spare.”

“Zora, I’m sure he knows he’s not a spare. This is all just for show. It’s all politics.”

Zora glanced at herself in the full-body mirror, and a sense of déjà vu washed over her as she found herself transported back to her first morning waking up in Wakanda. She’d never forget the day that Bahati first gave her, Keisha, and that incompetent ambassador a tour of the country that she now called home. She had come a long way in just three, almost four short years. Zora was just an ambassador’s assistant when she first came to Wakanda. So much had changed in her life with that trip to Wakanda. It was supposed to be for a few short weeks, and she ended up falling in love with the country and two of its sons and sticking around. Now, Zora couldn’t imagine living anywhere else in the world.

“Don’t worry. Tonight will be a breeze,” Bahati reassured Zora as she gave her one last glance over to check for anything out of place.

Zora smiled at her friend and let the optimistic words wash over her. Tonight would be a breeze…

---------

Black students and their chaperones, journalists, and government officials from across the diaspora flew into Birnin Zana earlier that day, and each member of the royal family greeted them with a welcoming speech when they arrived. Shuri spoke of her excitement about sharing her technology with the brilliant young minds that had come to Wakanda. Ramonda spoke of how her travels with her late husband only gave her a taste of the outside world but encouraged the young Wakandans that would spend time beyond their borders to truly appreciate the cultural exchange. T’Challa ended the welcome brunch by telling them how the program came to be: Zora. He explained her absence and promised she’d grace them with her presence at the gala when she returned that evening. 

Zora ensured each guest received a kimoyo bracelet complete with translator capabilities, and Wakandan tour guides were assigned to small groups of five to ten people. The following day, they’d all receive the same tour that Bahati and T’Challa gave Zora and Keisha when they arrived, plus more specialized tours based on academic focus. The Wakandan students would be greeted by their host communities in their own unique but similar ways. They mingled with their visitors with ease, and by the start of the gala, the only thing that separated them was the culturally specific styles of their formal attire.

The event was held in the palace courtyard, with the setting sun front and center for the guests to marvel at while they trickled into the space from their lodgings across the city. Zora had spent months working with a team of artists, contractors, and craftspeople to make sure the courtyard (as well as the entire palace and the visitor’s apartments) was perfect and to her liking for her visitors. Drummers struck their instruments with their palms in a high-energy rhythm that got the guests dancing before the event began. By the time the guests spotted the Royal Talon descending from the sky on the other side of the palace spires, spirits were so high that they erupted into applause that rang out loud enough for Zora to hear inside the aircraft. 

She was a vision in black when T’Challa laid eyes on her as she came down the ramp, and as soon as she saw him, her face lit up. Zora ran to T’Challa and jumped into his arms, not caring about messing up their formal attire or makeup. Their lips locked in a wet embrace they had longed for over the past two weeks, and their bodies came alive at the other’s touch. His firm hands held her up and grabbed her cheeks to pull her body closer to his while her arms wrapped around his neck. Tongues explored mouths, and they breathed as one again.

Being apart for the past two weeks was rough for Zora and T’Challa. Seeing Indigo brought up a lot of emotions for them both, and being without their loves during that time made for some lonely nights. Kimoyo chats can only do so much, especially when Zora loved taking every opportunity she could to tease her man. Her fingers would explore her depths while she panted and moaned and called his name, wishing her walls were contracting around his girth, and he couldn’t help but stroke himself until he overflowed with passion watching her performance. He’d tell her what to do, and she’d become her bratty self instantly, forcing him to keep a running tab of her infractions.

There were eight.

Half of those infractions come from her insistence on not calling him by whatever name he allows her to at the time. Sometimes he wants to hear her call him the same name as the rest of the world, and other times he only allows “Sir.” When she wants to get under his skin, she’s always resorted to calling him by his title, and T’Challa kept count of four times when she chose to push that button.

Another three came from her refusal to take his directions. He told her to remove her panties; she pushed them to the side. He ordered her to stop rubbing her clit when she seemed like she was about to climax, but Zora did it anyway, a satisfied smirk on her face as her juices dripped down on her hand. Then, her striptease while the king was in a meeting with the council. Every few seconds, T’Challa’s kimoyo beads dinged with a picture that he dared not open until after the meeting, each one of her in fewer clothes than the one before. By the time he called her after the meeting ended, she was cumming all over her favorite vibrator and screaming his name in her soundproof suite on the Talon while he tried his best to maintain composure in the two free minutes he had in his schedule.

The last infraction was when Zora’s bratty side got out of hand. T’Challa had missed her usual before-bedtime call, and when he called her back twenty minutes later, Zora was tired and cranky from a long day of global politicking. Her attitude made her mouthy, and when she accused him of sleeping with his assistant, he’d had enough. The following day, she didn’t even remember their conversation, but the king had already begun plotting revenge. 

Those thoughts of punishment disappeared from T’Challa’s mind when he saw Zora in the flesh again. His heart nearly stopped as he took in her curves, from the royal purple polish on her stubby toes to the tip of the beaded halo resting comfortably in her curls. His hands felt like they were glued to her ass, and he couldn’t help but squeeze it tighter and test the jiggle in his hands to make sure it was all still there.

Zora whimpered against T’Challa’s mouth when his fingertips got dangerously close to her lower lips, and his body responded with a rush of blood between his legs. He pressed his pelvis into her warmth and held her tighter while she gripped him as if he would ever drop her.

“Oh, my Bast!”

Zora pried her eyes open at the interruption and saw T’Challa’s new assistant trying her best to remain professional. The rest of the staff was used to their displays of affection and worked around them like it was nothing, but poor Kidada looked stunned to see her boss and king in such a precarious position. 

“Uxolo kumkani–”

The two lovers cooled down and pulled apart with a chuckle, and the king waved off her nervous ramblings.

“No need to apologize, Kidada.”

She nodded and pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her round nose, looking away nervously while Zora and T’Challa were both swarmed by their stylists. 

“How’s it looking out there?” Zora asked the assistant while the makeup artist touched up her lipstick.

“The visitors saw the Talon arrive, and they’ve begun asking for you.”

“We won’t keep them waiting much longer.”

“We?” T’Challa scoffed, and Zora cut her eyes at him, forcing Bahati to stifle a giggle.

“We’re a unit now, T’Challa, or have you forgotten your vows?” Zora teased, and it became T’Challa’s turn to cut his eyes.

“As if I could ever do such a thing.”

“I know, baby. You love me too much.”

“That and the eidetic memory,” T’Challa smirked, his eyes trailing up to the isicholo on Zora’s head. 

His mind traveled back to the day he first placed it there as vividly as if he still existed in that very moment. The procession through Birnin Zana was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen until they made it to the palace steps, and he was allowed to turn around and face his future wife. The brightly colored flower petals that filled the air and covered the ground they walked on as they made their way through the city streets had nothing on Zora in her intricately woven purple robes and stark white wedding paint. Ramonda comforted Cheryl as they gave their children away to be married on the palace steps, and both mothers had tearfully proud smiles on their faces as the priestess declared their union to be blessed by Bast. T’Challa remembered hearing slight sniffles coming from Shuri’s direction, but he was too busy gazing into his new wife’s twinkling eyes as he secured her crown.

Zora caught him staring, but she knew where his memory had taken him. She reached out her hand to intertwine their fingers, and the swirling patterns that the tattooist etched into their skin the day they were wed completed the design in the way they intended. 

“Let’s go,” she said with a soft smile.

T’Challa brought her hand to his lips and led the way out of the dressing room with Kidada, Bahati, and their Dora Milaje detail on their heels.

“My king, my queen,” Kidada rushed out as she followed behind them. “The queen mothers and the princess are already seated at the table, as are the council members, and the-”

“M’Baku?” Zora stopped walking and looked back at the assistant expectantly, but Kidada deferred to T’Challa.

“Zora,” he began, “he decided it would be best if he kept his distance. He sent Dembe in his absence.”

“Oh.” Disappointment weighed on Zora’s vocal cords like the heaviest boulder. “Is he ok?”

T’Challa sweetly cupped Zora’s face with the hand not interwoven with hers.

“He knew he could not remain professional in front of our guests.”

Zora nodded solemnly, and took a step forward, only to be pulled back into T’Challa’s embrace.

“My love, he-”

“I understand… it’s hard for me, too.”

He kissed her forehead, and the two of them took off again towards the courtyard with their entourage in tow. 

Zora tried to go over her speech, but her mind kept wandering back to M’Baku. She couldn’t help but feel a little hollow inside every time he came up. That emptiness came not just from missing her Jabari man, but because, in order to build relationships with foreign dignitaries, Zora had to become something she despised: dishonest. More than telling simple lies, she had to hide a piece of herself because of her global peers’ conservative sensibilities surrounding non-traditional relationships. 

Wakanda was already under so much scrutiny from the global press. The country’s name was being dragged through the mud by conservatives and liberals alike for their exclusionary practices, neither side of the political spectrum truly grasping the concept of reparations for descendants of chattel slavery. The United Nations was breathing down their necks for a taste of vibranium. Zora specifically had become the target of many a smear campaign calling her every foul name under the sun for “sleeping her way into the palace”—a sentiment that lost a news reporter in the UK his job when his boss mysteriously received pictures of said reporter in blackface taken just two years prior. 

To Wakandans, and many people around the world with liberated mindsets, polyamory is just another way of life; there are also many who see it as unacceptable, especially when a woman has more than one man. The woman is considered loose and therefore unworthy of respect, and the men are seen as weak for allowing such a thing to transpire. As incorrect as that thinking is, Zora knew all too well the ass-backward logic of the colonized world, and it was her decision to keep the true nature of her relationship with M’Baku under wraps to be taken seriously. The world would at least halfway respect a gold-digger, but a whore, especially when in the body of a Black woman, was seen as nothing more than an object to be used. To only speak when spoken to and to not demand the respect said whore deserves. 

That meant that while the visitors were inside Wakanda, the throuple was to act as a couple in public, and that M’Baku didn’t join Zora and T’Challa for diplomatic trips to foreign countries. However, when Zora chose to keep her other man from the world, she quickly learned that it wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be. In fact, it downright ripped her apart every time she had to restrain herself from holding his hand or planting a kiss on his cheek in specific settings. Every time Zora had to lie about their relationship or stop herself from touching him, her stomach churned at the lack of affection, but she’d always more than make up for it later.

Zora gave up on practicing her speech and let her mind wander to after the gala when the three of them would be together for the first time in weeks. She knew her guilt would make it difficult for her to accept the intimacy that M’Baku and T’Challa were undoubtedly about to lay on her for both her successful event and to celebrate their reuniting after her travels. She’d have to pay extra close attention to M’Baku, but as soon as she began planning all the things she wanted to do to him, the group arrived at the final set of double doors leading to the courtyard. 

---------

The king and queen of Wakanda smiled so wide their cheeks hurt as they took picture after picture with their guests, much to Okoye’s dismay. She was on high alert, having so many foreigners in her home country, and although she loved the idea of the children coming to visit, she loathed the politicians and journalists that followed them. She didn’t trust them one bit, so she had her Dora Milaje, the palace guards, and the tribal warriors, on guard. Of course, each person had been vetted, and no weapons were brought into the country, but the warriors remained ready just in case something popped off. 

The general scanned the crowd while Zora spoke to a twelve-year-old girl who was interested in design and had complimented her isicholo when she noticed the entrance to the gardens darken, and a prominent figure appeared from the shadows. Okoye fought a smirk as she continued to survey the space, and as soon as the young girl left Zora’s side, she leaned in close to whisper a message to her queen.

“Your husband is here, kumkanikazi wam.”

Zora’s face lit up, and she instantly began searching the crowd for his figure until she felt a nudge on her shoulder. She looked T’Challa’s way, and his eyes darted to the back corner as he nodded in that direction, having heard Okoye’s whisper with ease. Zora’s gaze followed his lead, and not a second later, her body felt flush as she laid her eyes on none other than the chief of the Jabari himself. 

M’Baku stood near the entrance to the gardens wearing his chief furs, his large arm guards filling out his already massive silhouette in a way that made Zora’s mind go straight to the gutter. She felt a tingle between her legs at the thought of parading around his room in his furs while he was naked and tied down to his bed. The queen tried in vain to fight the urge to stare, but she was too weakened by his presence. He felt her gaze from across the room and looked away from his conversation with his liaison Dembe. Their eyes met, and it was as if the entire room had melted away. All that mattered was the man by her side and the man yards away from her. The only thing she felt was T’Challa’s warm arm sliding around her waist and the icy chill of M’Baku’s absence from her other side. 

Always knowing exactly what Zora was feeling, T’Challa leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Now would be a good time for you to stretch your legs if you’d like.”

Zora tore her eyes away from M’Baku, and they landed square on the only man the entire world knew to be hers, a knowing and thankful smile gracing her plump lips before she met him for a chaste kiss. 

“I’ll be back.”

T’Challa unhanded her waist and let her slip from his side, his eyes slyly taking in her figure in her jumpsuit as she sashayed toward the gardens with Ayo not far behind. He didn’t have time to daydream about what lay beneath the dark fabric because the U.S. Secretary of State dampened his mood by stepping into his line of vision. 

While T’Challa was being hounded by Secretary Ross yet again, Zora slowly made her way through the room, stopping every few steps to mingle while she monitored M’Baku as she grew closer and closer to his warmth. When she stopped just four feet away from him to applaud a blended group of teenagers dancing together, he slipped away from Dembe and back into the gardens, causing Zora to smirk. So, he wanted to play games?

Zora glanced at T’Challa across the room to check in, and his slight nod gave her all the approval she needed.

“Ayo, please make sure we are undisturbed.”

“Ewe, kumkanikazi wam,” the lieutenant nodded and stood guard at the garden entrance. 

Zora winked at Dembe as she slipped through the gate, and they sent back a knowing little wave as she disappeared into the shrubbery. The sounds of the party grew fainter with every step she took into the depths of the lush gardens until her stilettos became louder against the stone path than the drums in the distance. Zora’s feet carried her all the way there on autopilot, and when she rounded the last corner, her body came alive when a warm presence engulfed her.

It was a presence she knew all too well, one she had joined with before Hanuman in a ceremony that brought tears to her eyes. When she looked down at the large hands that had taken hold of her waist, a smile took over her face at the black ink embedded in the skin. His and her hands marked forever to solidify their union, just as her right hand held the same marks that decorated T’Challa’s skin. Her smile grew wider when he pulled her in tight and kissed her neck, his hands gripping the two strands of beads that decorated her waist given to her by her two husbands in a much more intimate exchange within the confines of her bedroom.

“You were great up there, my sweet,” M’Baku rumbled into the crook of her neck, and Zora sighed into the deep vibrations.

“How would you know? You missed my speech.”

“Dembe recorded on their beads so I could still watch you.”

Zora turned around in his arms and cupped his bearded face in her hands.

“I wish you could’ve been there with me.”

M’Baku kissed her deeply.

“I do, too.”

Zora reached for his hand and led him to her favorite bench in the entire garden. It had been carved from the trunk of an ancient tree that fell during an unseasonably powerful storm that blew through the night Shuri was born and placed in a secluded corner of the gardens. The carpenter paid extra close attention to detail when they made it, and Zora couldn’t help but feel drawn to it every time she entered the green space. So much so that M’Baku and T’Challa regularly found her escaping her duties by reclining on that very bench and soaking up the fresh air in silence. 

“I have missed you, Zora,” M’Baku mumbled, his lips dusting over Zora’s knuckles as he planted soft kisses on her inked skin.

Zora’s lips met his before she could even think to preserve her makeup, and not seconds later, she was straddling his lap… until the sound of a shutter pierced the air, and a rustling of leaves forced them apart.

Next chapter

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[pettybetty69]

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝

Young!T'Challa x Enhanced!reader

TW: Nothing really

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist | Part One

__________________________________

He froze.

For the first time in his life he couldn’t move. 

It was as though his brain turned off. Any sense, any logic, any thought, all came to a halt. His hands were clammy and hot. His heart was tricked to pound in his chest. Every ounce of self-control he held was taken hostage by a relaxing trance. A pair of green eyes, your green eyes, seemed to be the crux of it. As quickly as he saw you, you turned away just as fast.

"Staring will only scare her off, umtshama." The King noted. He snapped out of it. 

"What?" 

“Pretty girl.” S’Yan nodded his chin toward you. 

The prince didn’t look toward you again, only gulped his dry throat. He hated this feeling with a passion. It was rare in his life he ever had control over anything. And the only thing he did, himself, now seemed to betray him all over again. 

“Yes, I….I suppose.” He averted his sight to an undesignated spot out one of the tall tower windows.

He avoided the sight of you. But his peripheral betrayed him. He could fuzzily see chestnut coils fall upon a pair of shoulders. A flash of a wide, ebullient smile that greeted officials. Caramel skin that almost looked like it was glowing. There was an unfamiliar thumping in the pit of his stomach. He wondered if he was coming down with something because what he was feeling.....he hated it.

His uncle watched him, seemingly amused.

“She comes from a respectable Italian family. T’Chaka and N’Yami held a quiet admiration for the family during their living days.” S’Yan explained. 

T’Challa’s head peaked at the mention of his parents. He was told very little about them. At least he knew his father to be brave, a story teller, and one of the best Black Panther’s to grace Wakandan soil. However, his mother, no one spoke of her; and doing so gave his father too much pain to bare when he was alive. 

He looked back toward you and a woman without hesitation. His eyebrows furrowed with a quiet desperation, as he searched the surface for what his parents could admire. He ignored to tingling feeling taking over his body. Other than the eyes and the similar pallet of skin, there was nothing.

“What makes them so special?” He asked, not removing his staring gaze. 

“That was one thing I could never make sense of.” S’Yan sighed. “What I can affirm to you is that they can be painfully honest people. But despite it, I will introduce you.”

S’Yan already began to walk toward the two of you. 

"Malume." The Prince quietly begged for him not to, but the King ignored him. 

"King S'Yan. I see you've come out of the shadows once more." The woman's exalted voice cordially joked.

Closer now, he could truly grasp her image. An intimidating beauty. On the taller side, svelte, dressed immaculately. Face was rosy and grounded. Deeply melanated skin with contradicting, sharp green eyes. An image very similar to yours. T'Challa noted the sudden pleased look across his uncle’s face.

"This tradition is one that must always follow through. And congratulations on the permanent position, Ambassador Vitale." S'Yan nodded his head with respect.

The King continued, “I’ve heard the notes of your proposal for the new policy. I must say it has my high hopes. I’m grateful my nephew here will be able to witness such respectable works.”

“Prince T’Challa Udaku. I can see you’ve grown up well, how old are you now?” She asked, curiously.

She knows my full name? He questioned in thought. He was Royalty, they were to be always addressed by a single name. And still, this winsome woman, just barely taller in height humbled him with a surname...

“I’m fifteen, Ambassador,” T’Challa answered neutrally.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could view your gaze suddenly on him. Your once-tilted head straightened with the rise of your eyebrows. The uncomfortable feeling rose once more. His throat dried again and he gulped, avoiding the magnetizing pull.

Why wouldn't you just turn away? Your drilling gaze lingered and lingered, his jaw tightening and heart racing with every growing second. His body betrayed him to the smirk that was so visible in his peripheral. Then, it finally stopped. You looked away nonchalantly, and he could breathe again.

But yet, he carefully inched his vision toward you. He didn't know what he was doing. He was choking just moments before and everything shouted at him to stop. He could see your black mary janes, then the hem of the black skirt at your knees, and thereafter......he froze. The pair of eyes, the color of Wakanda's acacia leaves, brazenly avert at him. He sighed, absentmindedly. A warmth spread through his chest, numbing away his anxiousness. His rambling thoughts unexpectedly weren't so gripping. He was simply there, present at the moment; observing a small comforting smile you'd sent. He could barely hear what his uncle was saying. 

"He's to ascend my position a decade from now. In preparation, he's been independently attending schools across the globe and today is joining me here for the first time."

"There's no better moment to prepare for the future than the present." Your mother commented. A silence prolonged. One he didn't come to notice for many seconds. The background noise faded, and he snapped, looking to his uncle who watched unimpressed, and your mother, the ambassador judgingly calculating him. The Prince cleared his throat.

"I could not agree more, Ambassador." He not so subtly glanced up toward the king. He heard a peep of a chuckle from where you were.

“By the eyes, I can assume you’re her daughter.” S’Yan quickly changed the subject.

“Yes, your highness. Alessandra Vitale.” You bowed your head slightly. You did it in a way identical to your mother. Enough to hold respect for yourself yet just enough to give respect. He admired that. 

“I see you’re about the age of my nephew. What brings you here instead of enjoying your youth?

“About. I’m fourteen, your highness. And because I’m here doesn’t mean I’m boring and not enjoying my youth. No matter what the other members of my family may attempt to convince.” You had explained, jocularly. It made him unknowingly smile. He liked your voice, he wanted the sound of it to go on. “All it is is that I’ve been raised to be well aware of my blessings and to recognize the choice I have to make use of them or not. I’ve chosen the former.”

”Hm." S'Yan hummed, noting what you'd said. "Conceivably, the two of you watching the assembly together may be a wise suggestion. Perhaps, you may explain the importance of making use of opportunity, Ms. Vitale.” S’Yan suggested, his pettiness shielded. Embarrassment ran through him. It increased with the surprised raise of your eyebrows and amused smirk. You nodded. "Sure thing."

"The assembly should be starting any moment now." Your mother spoke and he just noticed her hand had been on your back the entire time. “The seats are in the upper left corner. I will meet you after.” She finished. You had nodded to your mother and the King signaled his head for the Prince to go.

He could see your neck tense the second her hand left you. Your eyes shut for just a moment, like you were concealing some type of pain. He wanted to ask if you were alright, but his conspiring thoughts came at full force. Did you not want to be around him? Were you frightened to be separated from your mother?

Together you walked silently to the seats. It was awkward. No small talk. Few glances of acknowledgment. He saw your focus hyper-fixated on the floor, the playful demeanor now meek. He lingered for a few moments before he bit his tongue and looked straight ahead. 

Once you sat together, it perpetuated. He wasn’t sure what happened. He stared curiously at your still frame. The deep rise and fall of your chest, the clenching hands, how the floor continued to hold your attention. 

“Hello?" He quietly questioned.

“Uh, hi.” You chirped quietly, dashing a glance and quick smile. He still watched you, trying to understand your behavior. Your expression suddenly furrowed.

“Why do you continue to stare at me?” You bluntly asked. “Is it my makeup, what is it?”

He understood what his uncle meant by sudden honesty.

“No, no, that isn’t it. Not it at all. I’m- I'm attempting to figure you out.” He tried to explain calmly, but it came out as stutters.

You had shut up. Sitting back against the chair, your eyes narrowed. "Figure me out?" You asked.

He hummed. “Yes, the uh- the floor seems to have peaked your fascination.” He attempted to joke, which seemed to be successful.

A laugh fell from your lips. He liked your smile. How beaming it was and took up your entire face. One came across him. He didn’t know what was happening to him. A trance seemed to interval. It undulated from fright to calmness all in seconds. He didn't know why or how, for the first time, he didn't seem to care to know. He felt fine, for the first time in a while.

"Would you say you are talented at it? Figuring people out?" You carefully asked, with a shy smirk. 

"I would certainly. I figure you're a timid acolyte. Someone who is comfortable with a crowd, but the opposite when alone with a person. You’re someone who is easily intimidated and doubt yourself before any move you take.” He stated confidently.

You laughed. A boisterous laugh that caught the attention of a few around the two of you. It confused him. He looked around at their judging faces as you shamelessly giggled so much your eyes were shut tight. 

"No, not really.” You chuckled boisterously. “Quite the opposite, actually." 

"Are you sure of that? Yet, I notice you find difficulty to look me in my eyes." He quietly observed, archly. 

“Is that a challenge?” You smirked and impulsively met his stare. He could feel his own heart starting to race. As if you could see right through him. 

__

Faces no more than a foot apart, you could feel your anxiety efface. The observant, slightly arrogant boy before you, the one who you had to admit was cute, was all you could see. All up close and personal with the sporadic amber flecks in his dark iris, the asymmetric wideness of his nose, and the small apples of his cheeks. He flushed your nerves away, yet simultaneously brought them on. He was amusing to you, once you got a grip of the internal sphere. His brave front, and hidden turbulent interior. His tenseness and rapid heart rate that reverberated in your ears. Adrenaline, dopamine, and norepinephrine all involuntarily released throughout him. You grew amused seeing the bold boy becoming rattled. 

"First time you've been wrong?" An eyebrow raised teasingly. He was nervous and now was the one to break the lock of your matched sights. 

He hesitated, thinking before he spoke. You had noticed he did it a lot. He cleared his throat. “It may be a wise choice for me to brush up on my skills.”

“And in other words….” You chuckled. 

“.....No, it hasn’t been. Perchance, you’d be willing to give your attempt?” He light-heartily offered to see if you could do any better. 

You knew you could. Yet still, you asked, “Should I?”

His back fell back against the chair, and he observed you with a repressed smile. The way he looked at you, it made your heart go again.

You debated for a few moments. Should you go all in with the unrelenting truth or scale back and decline? Screw it. You readjusted your position to face him. Your eyes met, and neither dashed away.

"You're here by force. You'd rather be somewhere else, or anywhere else for that matter. But as of this moment, you're not so sure. You're not a person who is used to being wrong. Rather that be sourced from your intelligence or arrogance, I’m not so sure. But what I am sure of is… I make you nervous." You revealed. 

He sat still, taking in a sharp breath. The wheels turned in his head and you could tell, you hit a nerve. You weren’t sure what but he was uncomfortable. You sat back in the chair.

“I uh, I assume I’m correct.” You asked, sensitively.

“Some parts may not be too far from the truth.” He answered, reserved once more.

You left it at that. You didn't want to force this boy you just met, though it didn't feel like it, to reveal anything he wasn't ready to. You knew the feeling, and it wasn't nice.

"So, do you simply read and expose people's vulnerabilities for fun or?" He prompted once more. It made you burst out into a laugh again.

"It's only one of my favorite hobbies." You saw his big, imperfect smile come around again. His eyes began to soften, and you knew you wanted to see more of it.

"I can teach you if you'd like."

He nodded his head quietly. "I would."

The room began to calm and people began to sit. He was the first to bring his focus to the front of the room. And you did not long after.

__________

Once the assembly ended, there seemed to be a silent agreement to find a way out of the room. As the buzzing came again, the two of you found a quiet hallway that let the mid-day sunlight shine through. 

His back fell against the wall, facing the windows over the river. 

“That was two hours of nothing.” He reflected calmly, but absolutely astonished. 

“I’m glad I’m not the only one thinking it. I can’t believe it!” You admitted passionately, yet still in a hushed tone. He turned toward you.

“There were over a hundred officials in that room yet a fraction of what two people can do was accomplished. The relevant notions could be summarized within the span of 30 minutes and those who had zero to affix claimed the most time.”

“It isn’t that a hundred can’t be efficient, it’s that they all have their motives. Some less pure than others.” 

He seemed taken aback, not like you were any different when you began.

“Do you deduce?” He asked hesitantly and you hesitated. After a quick decision, you inched yourself closer to him. 

“It isn’t… exactly… a surmise.” You whispered the admission. 

“But the amount it would take leave an impact… Some form of honor must be present in most. It is what the job requires.” He reasoned.

“You’d be surprised.” You concluded with a disappointed sigh. “But you didn’t hear that from me, of course.” 

“Of course not.” He responded quietly. Clearly half of himself was in thought.

"At the very least I hope they aren’t all as tedious. If guilty, may Gaia help us find a rope.”

His eyes widened and he laughed with disbelief.

“Or maybe she and Bast gave a partner to bare it with.” He continued, with a hint of unsureness. You narrowed your eyes humorously and you felt his chest started to beat harder.

“.....that may be the more reasonable route.”

“May?” His laugh reverberated off the walls of the hallway. 

One of the Wakandan guards came into sight from the end of the hallway behind him looking panicked. She eased at the sight of him unharmed but subtly glared at you. He turned back to see what you were looking at.

“My Prince, we will be leaving now. The King has requested to leave for the day.” She firmly spoke, clearly annoyed. 

He sighed disappointingly before he turned back to you. 

“I must be going, unfortunately.”

“No, the timing is right. I should be meeting my mother anyways.”

“Should I- let me walk you to where you rendezvous.” He said, getting all awkward again. It was cute.

He saw you politely shake your head. “A kind gesture, but I will decline. But uh, I’m glad I met you.” He saw your own nervousness shine through your confidence.

He smiled, sensing it. 

“Alessandra Vitale.” He confirmed your name. You liked the way he said it.

“T’Challa Udaku.” You did the same. He liked the way you said his.

You friendly offered your hand and his eyebrows lifted with surprise. Never in his life had he met someone who offered him a hand. Never in your life had you offered a hand and had someone not take it.

“Prince.” The Dora hardly corrected from behind him. It hit you like a ton of bricks. 

“Oh, that’s right! Royals don’t shake hands.” You retracted your hand quickly. Now feeling bashful, you muttered “My mistake.”

He looked at your hand, and back at you. His years of etiquette lessons buried in the back of his mind finally came to light. Unlike the times before, the automatic gesture triggered insecure anxiety. He gently took hold of your hand and lifted it to his lips. 

The formulaic kiss to the back of your fingers felt rehearsed, but nonetheless, butterflies fluttered around in your belly. A blush rose to your cheeks. 

As he lowered your hand he began trying to ask you something. He kept on breaking eye contact as he stumbled over his words. You chuckled, kept on trying to meet his gaze.

Seeing your gentle smile all he wanted was to ask to see you again, but he couldn’t seem to find the words.

“Yes?” You asked interestedly, so close to him and eyes all bright.

“My Prince.” She warned again. He scolded himself to get the words out because he knew, you were someone he didn’t want to go without seeing again, again, then again again.

“I’d still like that lesson.” The words finally came off his tongue.

You thought, then a light bulb appeared in your head. You dashed to the small notebook in the pocket of your pants and scribbled on it. Ripping and offering the paper to him, he took it looking composed.

“Call me?” You asked, hopefully.

He nodded one last time. "I will."

The guard behind him was reaching her limit of irritation.

"Well then- Bye." You simply smiled.

"Bye." He hummed.

As he left, the giddy feeling in your stomach intensified. 

Seconds after leaving you, he felt his want to meet you again throb. 

A giddy, juvenile smile didn’t leave your lips the entire way home. 

The uncomfortable feeling he hated, he didn’t mind bearing anymore. The short flight with his uncle back to school didn't seem as suffocating.

From the moment you arrived home, you didn't wait like Roberto said. All you did was shout "Fina! I understand you now!"

[saiilorstars]

Go the Distance

T’Challa x OFC / Citlalli’s masterlist

taglist: @ocappreciationtag​​​​​​​​ @arrthurpendragon​​​​​​​ @anotherunreadblog​​​​​​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​​​​​​ @stareyedplanet​​​​​​​ @gloryekaterina​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @foxesandmagic​​​​​​​ ​​​​​​

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

Looking back at it, he regretted how things happened. The ire he felt for his father's death sent him over the edge. He didn't 'explode' like others, but he recognized (now) that he did have his moments.

"Agent Del Rio!" He called angrily after her. She was striding down the hallway, her back to him. "Agent Del Rio!" Eventually, he caught up to her and with one swift movement, he grabbed her by the arm and turned her around. "We need to speak  now !"

Citlalli Del Rio was anything if not pretty stoic with her expressions. It was a habit she picked up a very long time ago as a means of survival — literally. "Would you like to continue screaming in the hallway with other agents around?"

T'Challa was no fool. She was testing him and how far he would go to get what he wanted, even if it meant getting her into legal trouble. Could he?

Unable to answer himself, he pulled Citlalli into the first open room and shut the door with lock. "You pushed it today, Citlalli," he said immediately afterwards. "I know what you did."

Citlalli walked up to the conference table, drumming her hands on the top of a chair. "I do many things. Care to be specific?"

The ire grew stronger and T'Challa stalked up to her, once again turning her around. "You know what you did! You gave the weapons back. How could you help the people who cover up a murderer? A mass murderer, I will add."

Citlalli stoically looked at him and detached his hand from her arm. "You don't care that he was a mass murderer. You only care that he allegedly murdered your father."

"Allegedly?" T'Challa said incredulously. "He  did ! It is public knowledge that Sergeant Barnes was in the same city when the Accords were signed."

"Oh, you of all people know how technology can be used to persuade many people," Citlalli said, tilting her head to the side. Her dark eyes softened on him. "And it is much easier to convince someone who already wants to believe it."

In retrospect, T'Challa now knew that he had wanted to believe it very much. The news forced the idea that the Winter Soldier had blown up the site of the Accords and he, filled with ire and revenge, believed it without a second thought. It blinded him.

"Yes, I did help them," Citlalli said firmly, straightening herself up to take the full blame. Her open confession wounded T'Challa more than he had expected.

He got word from the Dora Milaje about suspicious sightings of Agent Del Rio and when they communicated the sudden loss of the confiscated weapons of Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, and the coinciding disappearance of Citlalli, he knew it was true. Still, knowing it and hearing it directly from Citlalli was different

"Why?" He was left to ask.

Citlalli heard the frailty in his voice, the betrayal. She subtly swallowed hard. "Because it's not as it seems. I grew up blinded by those who were supposed to all truthful and powerful. I have learned to look past all that shine. I see things factually and factually, things are not what the news says. I listened to Steve Rogers. I heard him."

"It's all lies, Citlalli," T'Challa argued, "Sergeant Barnes is his best friend! He would cover for Barnes!"

"Yes, perhaps in other things, yes. It is the nature of best friends," Citlalli agreed with him, "But in this—"

" No !" T'Challa snapped.

Citlalli lowered her head, drawing in a sigh. "You are not listening."

"I'm not listening?" T'Challa said incredulously. "I'm not listening!? You — you are not listening to me!" And it hurt him so deeply that the one person he trusted, the person he…

Citlalli raised her head again, meeting his eyes. It was like she could read his mind. "I do listen to you," she said quietly, but he scoffed, and hard. "I  do ," she reiterated.

He was blind and deaf, apparently. Looking back at things, T'Challa knew he should have listened to Citlalli more. He'd gone off on her after that, telling her how that had been the ultimate betrayal and that any kind of relationships they ever had were done. Granted, their relationship had always been professional but neither one would deny that there were moments where sometimes that line blurred.

He regretted it so much.

Citlalli never yelled back, never argued back, and most importantly never tried to convince him not to break things off. That hurt too.

Had she never cared for him at all? Had he imagined those close-call moments between them?

When he left that room, he left Citlalli for good. He wanted to be a man of his word, even if it hurt him like hell.

But when things turned and he discovered the truth about Baron Zemo, T'Challa had no choice but to admit his fault. Unfortunately, Citlalli was no longer available. When he reached out to Everett Ross about her, he was told that Agent Del Rio had abruptly turned her papers in and resigned from the CIA.

The shock had taken days to ware off and when it did, T'Challa felt the weight of the past come crashing down on him. He'd lost his father and now he may have just lost the love of his life (who didn't know she was the love of his life).

"You should have told her a long time ago!" Nakia all but smacked him. Not even his status as King of Wakanda would protect him from her fury. She shook her head at him, hands on her waist. "I cannot believe it took all this to happen for you to get this."

T'Challa felt like he should put his hands up in surrender. "It was always pretty clear that she and I were just friends." Nakia scoffed and because Okoye was also in the room standing guard, she did too. T'Challa rolled his eyed at the two. "I was not ever intending on ruining the job she loved. We were professionals."

"Fifty percent of the time, perhaps," Okoye muttered and Nakia pointed at her in agreement. "You two were so in love that neither of you saw how obvious it was."

"Idiots, that's why," Nakia said, "And now you went and lost her because of your rage."

"I don't need to know but I already know," T'Challa said with a huff. "If I am bothering with this embarrassment, it is because I thought you two would be more willing to help me find her."

Nakia exchanged a glance with Okoye. Yes, of course they would help.

It took a while to track Citlalli down. T'Challa learned bits and pieces of her the time they knew each other. She wasn't very forthcoming about herself but T'Challa knew that it wasn't just with him. She did not trust many people and even then those she did deem friends knew mundane things about her.

T'Challa knew that he was one of the few people who knew that Citlalli had been adopted. She came from a very troubled past and her roots lied in Mexico, not the States. T'Challa liked to think that he knew her most, and maybe that fact enabled those feelings to grow. He learned how as a child, Citlalli had to run from her old village because of invaders; he learned the trouble it took her to cross borders and how she almost died on several occasions. She had lost everything and still managed to climb up the ladder all over again.

An uncrowned princess turned agent turned vigilante.

Looking back at it, how could he not fall in love with her?fall in love with her?

Because even when she tried being stoic, she slipped…with him. With him, she smiled, she laughed, she even joked. T'Challa imagined that was what Citlalli used to be before everything was taken from her and for him to be able to get it out of her every now and then was a gift he valued very much.

He hoped she smiled wherever she was.

After months of searching, they caught a break. T'Challa honestly couldn't believe it never occurred to him before. Citlalli's life had been in Mexico, so it only made sense that if she felt threatened she would return to her land where she felt more in her domain.

She was intelligent enough not to leave a trace of her leaving the United States so to anyone else it would appear that she was still in the States. Once they figured that out, their search became easier. Citlalli's old village used to reside not too far from Mexico City so it made sense for her to go somewhere near there. It became easier to spot the woman who had suddenly arrived in a small outskirt town who so decidedly wanted a job in or near a horse stable.

"It was so funny to me," Citlalli truthfully laughed. She sat with T'Challa on a bench only a few blocks from the CIA headquarters. "My adoptive parents had good intentions with their idea to bring me to a horse stable. They thought I should have some nature around me."

"I imagine in New York that's not very possible," T'Challa remarked, leading her to hum.

"So they bring me to this beautiful stable one day and they think that I'm going to be afraid of the horses. As if."

"As if…" T'Challa watched her laugh again. "So they made the mistake of assuming you weren't brave."

Citlalli's laugh subsided into a smug smile. "I don't know if 'brave' is the right word but they never assume anything about me again."

"Did you ride that day?"

"I did," nodded Citlalli, "and after that, horseback riding became one of my therapies. I don't have to think about anything when I'm on a horse. I don't have to remember anything either."

Even just talking about horseback riding made Citlalli look so at peace and that wasn't something T'Challa saw very often.

She rode the horse beautifully. Like an expert, and she was.

Citlalli had a deep affection for nature. She loved it and always lamented living and working so deep within cities. It was perhaps the thing she missed most from home.

T'Challa never told her but every time she shared her woes for a life closer to nature, he secretly thought about taking her away from New York. He was sure that she would love Wakanda, a place where technology was superb but never taking away the pleasure of the naturalistic simplicity of life.

And now it seemed like she had found her place again.

The stable was on a ranch and it was pretty decent sized. There were only workers, clearly not a place for the public. There were crops on one side and many other typical farm animals scattered around. It was all calm, the perfect place for Citlalli.

T'Challa honestly didn't want to interrupt Citlalli's obvious serenity but it was of no use trying to avoid it. On a turn of her horse, Citlalli saw him and abruptly stopped altogether. It took her a few moments to convince herself that she was not imagining him (again) and that he was very much real.

A few more minutes later and she was off her horse, walking it by its reign towards the stable. She didn't look back at the sound of footsteps drawing closer. She went directly to the horse's spot and ushered it in, closing the gate after it.

"It took you longer than I thought," Citlalli said, finally turning to T'Challa. His brows raised with surprise.

"I wasn't aware that I was being timed," he wasn't the response he was expecting from her. She didn't appear mad at him…

She certainly seemed less mad with that smile that marked her face. "Well, being the King of Wakanda should grant you some speedier tech, right? Or is it all Shuri's domain?"

Definitely not what T'Challa expected from her, and yet it had taken about ten pounds of nerves off his shoulders. "Uh, she does say that she's better at it."

"And she's right," Citlalli side-stepped him and walked towards the entrance of the stables. "So then, to what do I owe your grand visit? Should I expect to see Okoye's grumpy face somewhere around here?"

"I came alone," T'Challa said, following behind her. "I figured we needed to speak…if you're willing."

"Yeah, I'm willing," Citlalli glanced behind her shoulder, still smiling at him which he thought was plain weird. Why wasn't she yelling at him? Telling him to get lost?

Citlalli led him to a quieter place in the ranch - a bench underneath a shady tree. She sat down and patted the spot next to her. "Afraid of getting a little dirt?"

T'Challa couldn't help but roll his eyes. This was more or less their typical way of being. It was strange to say he missed it too. He sat down next to her, leaving a decent gap between them for obvious reasons. "I like this place," he remarked, gazing out at the scenery.

"Me too," Citlalli let out a relaxed breath as she leaned back on the bench, "I am just not a city girl. I thought this would be the perfect place to lay low."

"Lay low?"

Citlalli nodded. "There were some suspicions after Rogers and his crew got away. I gave my statement and quietly slipped away."

"There aren't - Citlalli, there are no accusations filed against you," T'Challa said, knowing it for a fact since he had spent a lot of his time searching for that verification.

"Even if there had been, I wouldn't be there," Citlalli said, flashing a small, yet smug, smile. "I don't intend on ever getting caught. I'm a good adapter. I'm more of a chameleon than a serpent, I guess."

"I think you're both," T'Challa said, "You hide very well, but anyone should watch out if they dare to do anything against you."

"Did you come all the way here to complement my skills?" Citlalli was already looking at him when T'Challa turned his head at her. His eyes softened albeit with guilt. Citlalli knew it well - she could read him so well and he didn't even know it.

He had no idea where to start. He had come all the way here to apologize and he had no idea where to start. He spent the next couple minutes in silence trying to figure out his words so when Citlalli laughed, he was more than dumbfounded.

"I can see the wires in your head short-circuiting," she said, tilting her head at him, "Don't bother. I already know."

"Know what?" he frowned.

"What you want to say."

"N-no you don't. How could you know?"

Citlalli's smile broadened, her eyes growing kinder by the second. "Because I know you. You're too noble not to come all the way over here to apologize about Barnes. I'm just glad you realized he wasn't behind your father's murder."

T'Challa lost his breath for a moment. How could she read him that easily? That correctly? He looked at her completely mortified and yet relieved that she had taken the words out of his mouth.

Citlalli's smile still didn't wane. She looked out at the ranch, ignoring the warm flush on her face. "I hope you know that I'm not upset, and I really didn't need the apology either."

"How could not be upset?" T'Challa asked quietly. "I said so many things I shouldn't have. You were right, I should have listened to you…but I didn't. And you have no idea how terrible these months have been for me. A punishment, I suppose, for what I did."

"You were hurt," Citlalli said, "And trust me, we do many things while we are hurt."

"But not to you," T'Challa shook his head, "I would never want to do anything to you. You have no idea how important you are to me. I felt like I lost you, and it was all my fault." He lowered his head, absolutely guilt ridden. A few seconds later, he felt a warm hand come rest over his. He looked at Citlalli but she was gazing straight ahead.

"You could never lose me," she said, her fingers just barely sliding between his fingers, "I know you too well to fall for some mediocre argument. You're my friend. I would never let something like that get between us. The only reason I didn't reach out is because I knew that you needed your space and you would eventually find me."

"How? How could you know all that?"

"Because I know you, my dear," Citlalli finally looked at him, smiling widely. It was so unlike her. "Bits and pieces - I know you whole."

T'Challa's heart swelled with the feelings he kept bottled up. The certainty in Citlalli's voice - the confidence that she was right - made the ache in his heart grow because how could she trust him that much and he couldn't do that with her before? "I don't deserve you," he mumbled, turning his hand under hers and interlocking his fingers with hers. "The faith you have in me is the same faith that I should have had in you. You saw the truth before I did, and instead of trusting you I accused you."

"It's alright—"

"No, it's not," T'Challa shook his head.

"It really is—"

"It's not because how could I do that to the woman I love?"

Citlalli could only be so subtle at a confession like that. The confidence she had spoken with had definitely waned in those first seconds. "I…well…"

Somewhere in all the misery he felt, T'Challa found a moment to chuckle. "I don't think I have ever seen you speechless before." He took pride for being the one to do that to her. "You didn't see that coming, did you?"

Citlalli blinked a few more times and, with a clearing of her throat, looked away. "Honestly, no." She had been well aware of her feelings a while ago but with those feelings came the reality check. She was once of a noble family which meant she knew exactly how royalty worked. And no matter how super progressive royalty claimed to be, there was always going to be something that would separate them (and that was assuming that T'Challa would actually reciprocate her feelings). He was the King of a whole country, and she was a CIA agent (ex-agent now). There was no way that would ever work. So she settled for a silent love and hoped that with years to come, she would move past it.

"I was horrible to you the last time we saw each other so the only way to solve it is to make a fool out of myself," T'Challa decided to say, shrugging his shoulders.

Citlalli looked in his direction again. "A fool?"

"Because I came all the way over here with the intention of apologizing and hoping that you would forgive me but instead I'm sharing my deepest secret with you hoping you won't throw dirt in my face." T'Challa looked down at the ground, partly in shame. If he had been braver before, he would've done this in a much better way. A way that Citlalli deserved.

Citlalli tilted her head at him, trying to figure him out. "You're not very King-like, you know."

"I've heard," T'Challa said, "Shuri likes to point it out a lot. But maybe that's better right now. For your amusement, of course. Here's the King declaring his love for a woman he already lost."

Citlalli couldn't help it; she laughed. "Whether you're the King or not, you're still so clueless. Do you know why it is that I know you so well?"

"No?"

"Because when you fall in love with someone, there's an innate desire to know everything about them." Citlalli gripped their interlocked hands. "And I have wanted to know everything about you. Every single detail about you, whether big or mundane, is in my heart. So when you were upset, I knew you'd eventually come back from it. You always do. You're a fair and just man."

Her sincerity got him again, only this time he couldn't help it. The instinct was beyond him. He pulled his hand out of hers then grabbed her face and kissed her.

It was perhaps the one thing that Citlalli had not expected. She could not lead how she usually did with just about everything else in her life. And it was fine. She was perfectly content following the most amazing man and his wondrous lips. They parted slowly and even then remained with their foreheads against one another's.

"...it's not very king-like to kiss the commoners either..." Citlalli breathed in.

That sounded exactly like something Citlalli would say, and yet it still made T'Challa laugh. He lowered his head, shaking it as he tried to get himself together. "Agent Del Rio, aren't you ever serious for one minute?"

"Don't blame me...the King just kissed me. What ever am I supposed to do with myself?"

T'Challa raised his head to see Citlalli feigning a shocked expression. "You are not funny," he pointed at her.

"I think you'll let me be whatever I want to be on account of this long-term argument," Citlalli said, quickly growing serious. "I may love you but you still owe me for this."

T'Challa laughed again. She could play the role of seriousness so well that anyone who didn't know her would actually believe her. "Can I try to apologize say, in Wakanda?"

Citlalli's eyebrows raised, her 'seriousness' thrown off. Ultimately, she gave up the game in favor of reality. "Of course I forgive you. You don't need to make any grand apologies. I didn't runaway because of you. I needed to protect myself in case something happened, and it did. I know Rogers is on the run with his little merry gang. And truthfully, I don't regret helping him."

"I don't expect you to be regretful," T'Challa clarified first, "You were right. I only wish that I had listened to you back then. You should know that there are no formal accusations against you. I verified it."

Citlalli smiled lightly at him. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that, though."

"I did," T'Challa nodded, "Because I should have been with you at that moment as well." He reached for Citlalli's hand and gently wrapped his fingers around it. "If I had been with you then, you would already be in Wakanda with me."

"Can you imagine? Me in Wakanda?" Citlalli chuckled. 'I don't think your mother and sister would like that very much. Besides, what am I supposed to do there?"

"Be with me," T'Challa said bluntly enough to startle Citlalli. It was hard scaring Citlalli and T'Challa honestly couldn't remember a moment where he successfully managed to scare her. "I love you, Citlalli. I have for a very long time and I should have said it a long time, shown it, and I failed. I don't want to do that again. I don't want to go home pretending like it doesn't hurt to leave you behind. Do you believe me?"

"Yes," Citlalli answered softly, "I do." She could see his sincerity in his eyes, the fondness he held for her was right there...just for her.

"I know how you feel about 'home', and how you haven't really felt like America was your home. I know this place" — T'Challa made a nod towards the field — "feels closer to you but I don't want you to be alone. I don't want to be without you. Come to Wakanda with me, and we can make it our home. But I promise that it can become your home as well. You just have to be there to give it a your touch."

Citlalli actually considered the idea for a moment. Going to Wakanda sounded completely insane at a first glance but then she thought about it again, this time 'going to Wakanda with T'Challa' and it sprung a whole lot of butterflies in her stomach. "It's...it's crazy, isn't it?"

"Why?" T'Challa challenged her for a good answer. "You already left the States anyways. What's a little further anyways?"

"We're talking about a whole sea!" Citlalli chuckled. "And...well..." she sighed, "Who am I kidding? I could never go back to the CIA. Everett Ross would never hire me again."

"You'd be surprised," T'Challa said, shooting her a pretty confident smile.

Citlalli stared at him a couple minutes, getting the feeling she was missing out on something.

"If you want to go back to the CIA, then do it," T'Challa said, "But I will not leave you again. Do you want to go back to the CIA?"

Citlalli's head lowered at the question. "Honestly?"

"Always."

Licking her lips nervously, Citlalli answered very clearly. "No." She lifted her head and met T'Challa eye. "I only ever joined to build connections and networks. It's so tiresome, T'Challa. I don't even like the CIA..." She laughed sourly, "Bureaucratic knots everywhere. I like the freedom — there is no freedom in the CIA."

T'Challa listened to her attentively. He cupped her face, leaning close to her. "If that's the case, then come with me. You might find your freedom in Wakanda."

"The idea of going with you is, admittedly tempting, but I know how royalty works. This isn't some 'be my wife, aka the Queen or be my mistress' is it?"

"Look at me and tell me if that's what I would offer you," T'Challa promptly requested. Citlalli only looked at him for about two seconds before shaking her head. "When I say 'come with me', I mean it as in...fly back with me and...see what happens. You can stay for as long as you'd like. Decide what you want to do next."

"I don't know what I want to do 'next'," Citlalli admitted, "But I do know that I missed you so much. Watching you leave again is...it's not on my to-do list."

T'Challa started feeling something in his chest — anticipation. He knew what was coming...

"I don't want special treatment," Citlalli said, confirming what T'Challa already knew. "And you better tell Nakia to knock it off with her jokes because I know she'll have them."

T'Challa laughed lightly. "I can certainly promise to try and dissuade Nakia from any jokes but I'm not sure I can do much about the first thing you asked for."

"Why not?" Citlalli frowned.

"Because I certainly won't be able to treat you as if you were the same as everyone else." T'Challa grinned proudly about himself. Before Citlalli could fully react, he slid his hands over his face and kissed her.

[megamindsecretlair]

This was recommended to me twice and now I know why 🫠

Missing out on the BP fics when he was alive is my Library of Alexandria 😭 it hurt so much to read this but it was also exhilarating.

The range 👏🏽👏🏽 not only being an asshole prince, but pretending-ish to be an asshole because Americans do be out of pocket when they think they can be slick. And I love the slow reveal of writing her off, getting to know her, coming to her defense, parading her around, and then fucking her brains out.

Please, him coming out the door, dick swangin, talm bout get ya ass back in her. Daddy Long Strokes for a reason 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

Idc what anyone says, when a grown and fine man ask to kiss somebody I get so weak in the knees 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 i had to fan myself SEVERAL BILLION times reading this chuz gahh damn 🥲🥲 I can deff picture him slippin into Wakandan when he lost in the sauce.

And please 😭 they way he reverently watched her come undone. Like, I deff shouldnt have read this at work. Because I cant bawl my eyes out and break down like this fic requires me to.

This is everything to me 😩😩😩

“The Interpreter: Part 1 of 2″

T’Challa x Black OC. 

Mature Audience. Smut. 18+. Two Parts.

*Words in Italics represent the Wakandan language.

Summary:

Destiny Keith loves her career as a U.N. interpreter. She specializes in three East African Languages, but Wakandan is her favorite, especially when she gets to work for King T’Chaka Udaku on many important occasions. Destiny adores the popular state leader, but she despises his arrogant and spoiled son, Prince T’Challa Udaku. When the Wakandan King falls ill, Destiny is called upon to assist Prince T’Challa on a speaking tour of the U.S. as he replaces his father to discuss the King’s recent book on Wakanda’s new lead in global politics. Disappointed that she won’t be able to spend more time with the charming King, she accepts the new job reluctantly and discovers that there’s more to the prickly Prince than meets the eye.

“Baby, I’m a hot stepper none better

If you looking for a boss chick then come get her

Make a boy wait if he don’t measure

I’ll make a boy wait if he don’t measure”

Shaybo – “No Pressure”

  “Ah, Miss Destiny Keith! I am so pleased to see you again.”

King T’Chaka Udaku held his hands out to Destiny as she greeted him inside the U.N. lobby. She had been waiting forty minutes. It was unusual for him to be late for anything. His Dora, General Okoye Munisi flanked his side with another Dora Milaje lieutenant. Okoye’s eyes were keen and ever watchful. Destiny gave a slight bow to the king, but he waved a hand for her to stop being formal with him. They had worked together for over a year, and she still couldn’t bring herself to be informal with him. The man had charisma and kind eyes that twinkled when he smiled.

“I want to apologize for my tardy arrival…”

Destiny’s eyes slid behind the king, and she observed why he was late.

Prince T’Challa Udaku stepped next to his father with dark surly eyes and a sour demeanor about him. His personal head of security, Ayo, was a Dora that never smiled or gave a flying fuck about what anyone might have thought about her Prince. He could do no wrong.

“Say no more,” Destiny said cutting her eyes at T’Challa.

The Prince rolled his eyes and then rolled his tongue across his top teeth that gleamed with a platinum grill shaped like panther teeth. He was dressed to impress in a tight custom winter green tweed jacket and vest with matching slacks. The soft curls in his small ‘fro were moisturized to the hair Gods. Baby boy was clean. Fine as all get out. But an arrogant xenophobic bastard. She could smell the disdain he had for Americans wafting off his skin. Coming to the U.S. for any reason was a chore for him. His bored eyes didn’t even register her anymore.

Keep reading

[tallulahchanel]

To my "Rose of Wakanda" readers

About a year or so ago, it was brought to my attention that I misnamed my Rose character because I failed to do proper research. So after hauling it over for a while, I've decided to make the necessary changes. It'll take time for me to go through all the chapters to fix it, but I'm changing her name from Wavuka to Iirozi. It's a small change, but it's one I'm proud to make.

[theunsweetenedtruth]

The Unsweet Masterlist

Welcome to "The Unsweetened Truth," a haven for those who crave raw and authentic romance narratives featuring Black protagonists. As the author behind these narratives, I invite you to join me on a journey where the stories reflect my real life with a giant sprinkle of delusion. But be warned: the content found within these pages is intended for mature audiences only, with themes and imagery that reflect the complexities of adult relationships. So, take a seat, immerse yourself in the stories, and discover the unfiltered beauty of romance through the eyes of Black protagonists. And remember, all content is exclusive to this platform, protected under #unsweetimagines—because some truths are meant to be savored, not shared.

* indicates smut

The Adored One (Complete)*

Nereyda is a member of the Doras—a marginalized class whose purpose is solely for pleasure. But Nereyda is no ordinary Dora; she holds a special place as the chosen companion of Prince T'Challa.

The Adored One* | Giving You the Best | Warmth* | What You Won't Do* | On Your Mind | All This Love | Yours*

Who Hurt You (One Shot)*

T'Challa, the esteemed leader of Wakanda, ventures into the dimly lit confines of a hidden establishment, not as a king, but as a man driven by his own desires. There he finds you.

Come Sit On My Lap (One Shot)*

T'Challa isn't paying enough attention to you so you decide to go out without him. You're not ready for the repercussions.

Promises (Complete)*

Erik left more than just his girl behind. It was time to keep some of his promises.

1* | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8* | 9 | 10 | Erik's Packing List

Voyeurism (One Shot)*

Discipline (One Shot)*

Another Again (One Shot)

Kinksize

Happy

The Marriage Pact (In Progress)

Honey and Erik make a pact.

Dec 2020 |

[blade-liger-4ever]

Introducing Boza Eldar, heir to House Eldar!

(Sorry, I got a little editing-happy with some of them.)

Now, regarding his clothing style, since Boza's a Mandalorian, I knew from the get-go that designing him in armor wasn't going to work. However, when I came across the options I used above, I realized that I could easily try and show him in a "body glove", though I had to make do with the gloves and shoes. The belt...actually fits on its own. I chose this pose to give the idea of Boza working out in the early morning, and I tried to show in his expression that he's a rather smiley fellow who isn't easily ruffled even in mock combat. As for his given name, well, let me explain that before attempting to whip up his backstory:

Boza was named, and made in honor of, Chadwick Boseman.

Four years ago, Mr. Boseman was sadly taken from the world. Many were left heartbroken and sad, most of all his family. Unbeknownst to the public until his passing, Mr. Boseman had been suffering from cancer since the late stages of Captain America: Civil War's finishing production, at least. He did not share it with anyone outside of his family, and fought it just as hard as the Black Panther would have.

On a more personal note about the late actor, I want to extend my thanks to him in this tribute. Long before he was cast in the role, the Black Panther, also known as Prince/King T'Challa, was always a favorite character of mine. I briefly saw him in Avengers: Earth's Mightest Heroes, and then sporadically in Avengers Assemble. However, my greatest introduction to the character and his backstory was brought to life by Mr. Boseman. Truly, watching him in the theater as Black Panther felt like watching my favorite side Avenger come to life and step into the real world. Mr. Boseman played the character just as poised, regal, ferocious, and honorable as I had come to know and expect of the character. In hindsight, his part of the film riveted my attention almost as much, if not to the same degree, as the story of Cap and Bucky. I was much happier for his portrayal of T'Challa than I would have guessed, and perhaps more than I realize now. And for that, I am eternally grateful he was offered and accepted the role, for without him, my experience with both the film and the character would be much duller, and my memories of the old MCU would not be nearly as bright.

Rest in peace, Chadwick Boseman. You have earned it, and may you continue your adventures as the Black Panther in Heaven.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Boza Eldar was born the sole heir to his House in the Mandalore System. The Eldars are renowned for their prowess in martial arts, and their ability to use their words as weapons in the political games of the galaxy. As the only direct heir to the House, Boza studied across the System to learn battle strategy, martial arts, languages, politics, technology, the arts, and much more. However, during his studies, he became more and more suspicious of the Empire's motives, causing him to dig into their works in his off time - which he did not often have. Realizing the true nature of the Empire, Boza was prepared to take the matter up with his parents about pushing back when news of Sabine Wren blowing the whistle on the Empire after her tenure in the Academy spread through the System. Not long after, Sabine was accused of being a traitor to Mandalorian society, and a coward for running from her people and "justice".

Despite the people's distaste for the "runaway Wren", Boza, impressed by her courage to say anything against the Empire, was inspired to slowly build up a secretive group of Mandalorians to combat the Empire someday. His parents helped him set up the network, though it was mostly conducted through intelligence gathering and occasional "heists" that disrupted the Empire's work and transports. Despite this, the atmosphere was still tense, which grew worse as rumors of a rogue Mandalorian outside the System was wrecking havoc and combating the Empire grew - and that she was a Jedi. Although Gar Saxon insisted the rumors were Rebel propaganda and censored all information regarding his work into recent Mandalorian "traitors", Boza knew this was no coincidence.

Although he had no particular love for the Jedi, Boza's studies of history involved Tarre Vizsla, and how the Mandalorian Jedi brought peace and unified the Clans and made them the powerful Sector that they now are. There were no Jedi from his line or any other in three thousand years, and yet now, not only has a member of a prominent Clan taken a stand against the Empire, but the first Mandalorian Jedi since Tarre has appeared, standing against the Emperor by her sheer existence. If the rumors about her were true, and if she and Sabine Wren were both working for this "Rebel Alliance", then that could only mean one thing:

The Mandalore System must go to war against the Empire.

Boza's family has their own religious view of what the Jedi call the Force, and he is certain that the appearance of a Jedi Mandalorian is a sign that they must unite once again, lest they be crushed. He, Sabine, and this rogue are children, but they can lead in a firefight, or inspire others to take up arms and combat the Empire. They must grow into these roles, for their people depend on them.

When Lady Bo-Katan Kryze returns with her own army of Mandalorians and wielding the Darksaber, Boza wastes no time in bringing his forces to supply her lost troops. Working with her, he finds himself assigned as a field commander alongside none other than Sabine Wren herself. Despite her still stained image in Mandalorian society, Boza cannot help but find her intriguing. They fight well together, are evenly matched in a fight (though they each have a tendency to "lose" a match to the other), and understand their respective interests in art. Where Sabine is colorful and expressive with her artwork (both with and without explosives involved), Boza prefers sculpting. He likes to work with his hands, and it helps calm nerves and distracts from the severity of the war. Although it is joked about often, others pointing to Boza allowing Sabine to paint his sculptures and figurines as the moment she fell in love with him has much evidence going for it.

When the war is over and Mandalore has been freed from the Empire, Tristan has assumed his birthright as the new Count Wren while Sabine's younger twin sister, Sacha, has joined Fenn Rau's new Proctectors. However, both Boza and Sabine realize that even with her courage and loyalty to Mandalore being proven, most men will still avoid her due to old political wounds, not helped by the fact that even now, Tristan is arranging a marriage for himself to earn some additional support, as Clan Wren is still persona non grata, both from their time with Death Watch and Sabine's past actions reflecting on them. Despite that, Boza knows one man who doesn't care for that part of her past, and asks Sabine if she would accept his hand in marriage, offering Clan Wren the support and protection of House Eldar as a wedding gift as well.

Zeb swears the marriage was one of the biggest, and definitely the most colorful, that he's ever attended.

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

That's all, folks! Almost all of this is original on my end, save the name Eldar; although they're only known as Clan Eldar in the canon Star Wars universe, I decided to promote them to a House's standing in my take. I see Boza and Sabine having three kids, though I don't think either of them would mind a fourth - or even be unhappy with just two. I didn't have a place to put this, but I envision Boza having a pet "wolf cat". It's an actual named animal in Star Wars, though it has no official art - but I'm willing to imagine House/Clan Eldar's sigil is one....

Thank you for reading, and may the Force be with you!

[blackqueengold]

Masterlist

Shuriri

Her Grace

Shuri

Idk yet but it will come

T’Challa

The White Panther -> coming soon

Attuma

The Siren and The Talokanil Warrior 

After the loss of Alsu’s family, she has been swimming all Atlantic Ocean on her own, no pod, no home. M’Baku takes Alsu in as his adopted sister and has kept away all along from the war, which all wakanda loves her. After the war, alliances are made, love birds being love birds, and love is blooming everywhere.

Chapt.1     Chapt.2

K’uk’ulkan

In Diosa (My goddess) -> coming soon

Namora

Bast’s Daughter -> coming soon

Druig

Mother of Nature and sky -> coming soon

Pietro

My Girl -> coming soon

[artisticestheticreads]

My face waiting for y'all reactions to the newest chapter of Summertime Magic.

-SWEET BABIES-

@muse-of-mbaku

@im5ftbutmythroat66

@chaneajoyyy

@melanin-samii

@theunsweetenedtruth

@doux-ciel

@unicornluvin8765

@vikkidc

@wakandantings

@thadelightfulone

@mzamethystp

@simbiann

@tropicalsun10

@babydoll756

@notoriouslynay

@vminax

@quinsly

@pinkdemolition

@quietstorm-73

@chaoticcashfancroissant

@bugngiz

@chocolatedippedinhoney

@yafavcocoa

@lostgalaxies

@mbakuwife

@youreadthatright

@babygotl01292003

@acceptyourselfloveyourself

@madamslayyy

@yoyolovesbucky

@theogbadbitch

@wakanda-inspired

@bitchacho25

@toniilaney

@wakandascrystal

@girlsneedlovingfanfics

@raysunshine78

@melodyofmbaku

@hearteyes-for-killmonger

@silenceisplatinum

@thickemadame

@shookmcgookqueen

@heykillmongerluhme

@fonville-designs

@cutewylie​

@allhailqueennel​

@10bsatatime

@nickidub718​

@lildashofmelanin

@allhailqueennel

@amirra88

@hakunalive4eva

@ghostfacekill-monger

@thickemadame

@ladymac82

~ @muse-of-mbaku @im5ftbutmythroat66 @chaneajoyyy @melanin-samii @theunsweetenedtruth @doux-ciel @unicornluvin8765 @vikkidc @wakandantings @thadelightfulone @mzamethystp @simbiann @tropicalsun10 @babydoll756 @notoriouslynay @vminax @quinsly @pinkdemolition @quietstorm-73 @chaoticcashfancroissant @bugngiz @chocolatedippedinhoney @yafavcocoa @lostgalaxies @mbakuwife @youreadthatright @babygotl01292003 @acceptyourselfloveyourself @madamslayyy @yoyolovesbucky @theogbadbitch @wakanda-inspired @bitchacho25 @toniilaney @wakandascrystal @girlsneedlovingfanfics @raysunshine78 @melodyofmbaku @hearteyes-for-killmonger @silenceisplatinum @thickemadame @shookmcgookqueen @heykillmongerluhme @fonville-designs @cutewylie @allhailqueennel @10bsatatime @nickidub718 @lildashofmelanin @allhailqueennel @amirra88 @hakunalive4eva @thickemadame @ghostfacekill-monger

[braveclementine]

Bonds United

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs, which consist of Penny Fury, Elizabeth Nelson, Elijah Chan, Katya Venice, Violetta Moscow, Lan Le, Josh, Trang Tien, Ahni Jallow, Mai Ito, and Ghaida Kashual as well as other OCs that will come up throughout the story.

"Here you go." Stephen whispered against the nape of Penny's neck, carefully doing up her zipper. He brushed some white curls away from her back, sweeping them over her shoulder. He rested behind her, looking at the two of them in the mirror. "You look beautiful darling." He kissed the side of her neck. 

Penny smiled, looking at Stephen's face in the mirror. Then she turned around to capture his lips with hers. Stephen sucked on her lips and she nipped at his, before the two of them pulled away to breathe. 

Stephen was dressed in a simple black tuxedo. Meanwhile, Penny was wearing a drop dead gorgeous winter blue dress that accented her skin and eyes perfectly. Stephen wrapped his finger around a curl and smiled. 

"Are you ready for tonight?" Penny asked softly. She knew Christmas was usually a big thing for them in the past. The Ohioans had been here for two previous Christmas' and they always sang. Now, there wasn't enough of them to keep it going and Penny was sure they probably didn't want to anyways. 

"I'll be okay. We all will." Stephen murmured, kissing the back of her hand before dropping her hand so that he could offer his arm. She slipped her hand through it, grinning. 

They headed down to the main floor where the large ballroom was once again, filled with people. This time, people murmured, seeing her on Stephen's arm. She wondered if she had to stay away from the others she loved at this one, or if everyone knowing would change that. 

"Hey." Steve called out, approaching them. Sam was with them, holding Chamber in his arms. Sam was murmuring to the little boy, who was looking around the party with interest. 

"Hi." Penny smiled, taking his hand, so that she was holding both of the Stevens' hands. 

"You look beautiful." Steve hummed, pulling her fully into his arms so that he could kiss her right then and there. 

"Mm." Penny hummed, melting into the kiss. It ended much sooner than she would have liked and she saw the frustration in Steve's eyes too. Public was hard. 

"Don't worry." Sam chuckled, placing hands over Chambers' ears. "Tonight is totally ending in an orgy." 

Penny felt an embarrassed grin growing on her face. She certainly couldn't wait for that. 

"Would you like to dance?" Stephen asked, offering a hand. 

"I would love one." Penny said, holding up a finger. She kissed Sam's cheek and then Chambers' forehead and then took Stephen's hand and allowed him to lead her off to the dance floor. 

As they revolved, she started to take in the rest of the room. Tony, Rhodey, and Thor were talking with a group of people who seemed to be reporters. Ghaida was sitting nearby, a sad look on her face as she watched Thor. 

Loki and Bucky seemed to be hiding from everyone, in the corner at a table with their backs mostly to the rest of the party. They were both nursing drinks though neither of them were actually drinking them. 

She noticed that Trang and Elizabeth weren't even there. Elijah was sitting by himself, watching her and Stephen dance. When he realized she was watching, he smiled a little and looked away. 

Penny looked up at Stephen and he smiled a little, also sadly. "It's okay." He murmured. "It's our first public event after the announcement. Everyone's reacting in different ways." 

"You're good at it then." Penny smiled a little. 

"You forget I was a famous, successful doctor first." Stephen smirked, spinning her around, before pulling her back to him. "The best thing to do when reporters are around, is pretend they don't exist." 

She smiled and then asked, "Loki and Bucky. . ." 

Stephen sighed, glancing over at his soulmate. "Loki doesn't care. But Bucky does and Loki understands. So they're probably going to be together all night." 

Penny looked around, "I think there are more vets here this year than last year." 

"Not expecting a big turnout?" Tony's voice behind her made her jump. 

"Well. . . no." She smiled a little. "Not after the article." 

"Well, the thing is, Elizabeth has a special place in the true vets hearts." Stephen replied. "The things she risked to keep this country safe. I think they're here more as a show of support." 

"Even though she doesn't remember." Penny smiled a little sadly. 

"Elijah will keep her informed." Stephen assured her as the song came to an end. 

"May I have a dance now Miss Fury?" Tony teased. 

"Of course Mr. Stark." Penny teased right back, taking his hand. Stephen winked and then headed over to where Loki and Bucky were talking now. 

"Mm." Penny hummed in surprise as Tony dipped her backwards and kissed her. 

The two of them danced on the floor before Steve stepped in and then Natasha. Elijah came in for the next dance, which definitely brought out the murmurs of the club. Penny half wished that Elizabeth was there in the room, just so everyone could see that they were all okay with it, but the ice girl hadn't been there the entire time. 

She forgot her worries though as her and Elijah danced, the two of them even laughing by the end of it. Elijah kissed her softly, his eyes warm too as he pulled away. 

She danced with Vision after that, then Wanda, Pietro, Rhodey, Clint, Violetta, and Sam. Loki came away from Bucky so that he could dance with her before handing her off to Thor. Bruce shyly asked her for a dance, which was clumsy and adorable. 

She went off to get a drink afterwards and rest her feet. As she turned from the bar, she yelped quietly as T'Challa was standing right there in front of her. 

"T'Challa! When did you get here?" She squealed, throwing her arms around him. He hugged her back tightly and then kissed her deeply. 

"I arrived just now." He chuckled. "I meant to get here when I heard my cheetah cub was pregnant, but I got held up with kingly duties. It's wonderful to see you though, Princess." He kissed her gently again. 

Whispers swirled up around them again. 

"Is that the King of Wakanda?" 

"That's not his soulmate is it?" 

"So when they said the Avengers were part of it, they meant royalty too?" 

"Sorry." Penny whispered. 

T'Challa just kissed her again, "I do want to ask you for a dance, but I also want to check on Elizabeth. I heard she's having a hard time with the pregnancy?" 

"She's worried. It's triplets again." Penny said and hesitated. "Did they. . ." 

"Fury told me his child is struggling a little." T'Challa nodded. "Is she okay?" 

"She is for the most part. I think she's still worried about my father though." Penny admitted. 

"How are you doing?" T'Challa asked quietly. 

"Besides, wondering if the child is going to be my brother or my son, I'm really good." She smiled. "But ah, I haven't seen her the entire party." 

T'Challa frowned a little, looking around. "I hope she's okay." 

Penny squeezed his hands. "Ghaida could probably help you find her." 

T'Challa kissed her cheek. "I will come and find you for that dance after I find her." 

"I look forwards to it." Penny smiled, blushing darkly. 

"Penny!" Another familiar, but not expected voice said. She looked over to see Fandral approaching. 

"Fandral." She replied in surprise. "What-" 

She looked over and saw that Heimdall, Volstagg, Hogun, and Sif were also there. She blinked in surprise. She also saw the Guardians had all come down, including Carol. The Avengers were slowly interacting with them, hugging and kissing. They hadn't seen them since last Christmas. 

"I will be back." T'Challa smiled, looking at Fandral. 

"Of course." Fandral said and turned back to Penny, "Might I have a dance, my lady?" 

Penny chuckled at his charm and let him lead her back out onto the dance floor, leaving her untouched drink on the bar side. 

Fandral spun her around several times, before suddenly the DJ music faded. 

Suddenly, there was the sound of a voice on a mic and then the strumming of a real guitar. Penny looked over at the stage in surprise. 

Elizabeth looked radiant. She was wearing a dark blue dress that covered with silver sparkles. Her long brown hair had been curled, pooling up around her face, curls brushing against her cheeks. She had a mic in her hands. 

Trang was just a beautiful, in a red dress with golden stitching. Her hair was pulled up in an elegant knot on top of her head, a pair of what looked like decorative chop sticks keeping her hair up. For once, she wasn't wearing her glasses and she looked beautiful. She was holding a guitar in her hands. 

"There's a specific reason for this song." Elizabeth smiled a little. "Well, two songs, but this song is unplanned. I may have been told by a little birdie about an occasion for tonight. Either way, I hope you enjoy the song." 

Penny and Fandral stopped dancing. Fandral led her over to where the rest of the Avengers had grouped up with the rest. Steve smiled at her. 

Fandral gasped, taking Chamber out of Steve's hands. "Hello my son." 

Penny smiled. She saw that Mateo was in Heimdalls' hands. His eyes seemed a little red and Penny figured whatever the problem was, it was over. Maybe? 

Trang started with the guitar first. 

Baby, take my hand I want you to be my husband 'Cause you're my Iron Man And I love you 3000 Baby, take a chance 'Cause I want this to be something Straight out of a Hollywood movie

The crowd laughed, because there were plenty of movies on Iron Man. Documentaries and also fan based ones. 

I see you standing there In your Hulk outerwear

More laughs from the crowd. Even Elizabeth let out a small giggle as she sung the song. Bruce blushed dark red. 

And all I can think Is where is the ring 'Cause I know you wanna ask Scared the moment will pass I can see it in your eyes Just take me by surprise

And all my friends, they tell me they see You're planning to get on one knee But I want it to be out of the blue So make sure I have no clue When you ask

Elizabeth looked up and met Penny's eyes, before turning back to the crowd. Penny suddenly felt the truth of the lyrics of the song and looked over to see Steve was smiling. 

Baby, take my hand I want you to be my husband 'Cause you're my Iron Man And I love you 3000 Baby, take a chance 'Cause I want this to be something Straight out of a Hollywood movie

Penny was now aware of why all of the Avengers were standing with her. Tony shook his head at Elizabeth's lyrics and then pulled out the small box that clearly contained the ring that they were all going to propose to her with. 

Now we're having dinner And baby you're my winner I see the way you smile You're thinking about the aisle You reach in your pocket Emotion unlocking And before you could ask I answer too fast

"Yes." Penny laughed. 

And all my friends they tell me they see You're planning to get on one knee So now I can't stop thinking about you I figured out all the clues So now I ask

The rest of the Avengers chuckled as well, as she hadn't even seen the reason. Violetta took the ring out of the box and then handed it to Clint. 

Penny watched as the ring- in Violetta's hand it was rose gold with silver fastenings- turn into a simple silver ring with a blue stone in the  middle of it as Clint took hold of it. 

Baby, take my hand I want you to be my husband 'Cause you're my Iron Man And I love you 3000 Baby, take a chance 'Cause I want this to be something Straight out of a Hollywood movie

Pa da da da da dam No spoilers please Pa da da da da dam No spoilers please

Baby, take my hand I want you to be my husband 'Cause you're my Iron Man And I love you 3000 Baby, take a chance 'Cause I want this to be something Straight out of a Hollywood movie, baby

"Penelope Fury, will you marry us?" Rhodey chuckled, on one knee, even though he already knew the answer. 

"Of course I will. Yes." Penny said, begging herself not to be one of those girls who cried when they got proposed to. The song that Elizabeth had picked was perfect. 

Pa da da da da dam No spoilers please Pa da da da da dam No spoilers please Pa da da da da dam No spoiler please Pa da da da da dam And I love you 3000

As Elizabeth finished singing, everyone clapped and cheered. Penny realized that they had all witnessed the proposal. 

"I love you guys." Penny murmured. 

"We love you too." Bruce said softly. 

Penny suddenly felt weird though for a second, seeing Vi and Katya there. She looked around, seeing Ghaida was sitting by herself in a corner. 

But, not wanting to ruin the moment, she decided to ignore it for the moment. 

But as they all slowly dispersed, she headed over to where Ghaida was sitting. Ghaida smiled at her. "Congratulations Penny." Ghaida said warmly. "I'm really happy for you." 

"Are. . . are you not. . ." Penny wanted a way to phrase her question. 

"I told them no." Ghaida said, looking away. 

Penny wanted to tell her she was crazy, but she knew Ghaida had to have a reason. "Why?" 

"I had already told Thor that while Elizabeth is in danger I can't give my attention to anyone like that." Ghaida shrugged. "Elizabeth's memories are still gone, she's still in danger." 

"Ghaida that could be years." Penny protested. 

"Could be, but I don't think it will be." Ghaida answered. 

"How can you be so sure?" 

Ghaida stood up, looking at Penny with a look that made Penny feel she was being looked at with ancient eyes. "You'll know." Ghaida walked away. Penny watched her go and her eyes met Heimdalls, but he turned after holding her gaze for a second. 

Penny decided to brush everything off. She was done with secrets. If Ghaida wanted to keep secrets, Penny didn't need to deal with it. 

Another three hours passed before it was nearing closing time and Elizabeth was on the stage again. She was wearing her dog tags on her dress now and she looked proud. Penny smiled, curling into Rhodey. 

She watched as the ring turned rather simple. A single, plain gold band. The prongs held a singular, small diamond in it. Somehow, the simplicity fit Rhodey and she loved it. 

Soldier keep on marchin' on Head down 'til the work is done Waiting on that morning sun Soldier keep on marchin' on

Elizabeth sang, her hand flying up to touch her shoulder. Penny knew it was where Elijah's tattoo was and she looked around for him. He was touching his stomach, a small frown on his face. 

Head in the dust, feet in the fire Labour on that midnight wire Listening for that angel choir You got nowhere to run

Elijah inhaled like he was in pain. 

You wanna take a drink of that promise land You gotta wipe the dirt off of your hands Careful son, you got dreamer's plans But it gets hard to stand

Elizabeth's face twitched and she looked a little confused, but she kept going. Penny looked over to see if anyone else had noticed. Steve's eyes were red, but Sam and Bucky were smiling. Penny had a feeling this was their favorite song. 

Soldier keep on marchin' on Head down 'til the work is done Waiting on that morning sun Soldier keep on marchin' on

Elizabeth suddenly seemed to light into flames. Not literally, but fire appeared in her hands as she held them out, singing. The others gasped and Penny's head spun to see that Elijah's eyes were blue and his hands were holding water in them. 

Quiet now, you're gonna wake the beast Hide your soul out of his reach Shiver to that broken beat Dark into the heat

Oh-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh

Oh-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh

Oh-oh-oh

Oh-oh-oh

Oh-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh

Oh-oh-oh

Soldier keep on marchin' (oh-oh-oh) Keep on, keep on, keep on (oh-oh-oh) Keep on, keep on marchin' on (oh-oh-oh) Keep on, keep on marchin' (oh-oh-oh) Keep on marchin' on (oh-oh-oh)

She looked up at Rhodey who was also frowning, looking at Elijah.

Penny suddenly turned, looking for Heimdall. 

Soldier keep on marchin' on (oh-oh-oh) Keep on, keep on (oh-oh-oh) Keep on marchin' on (oh-oh-oh) Keep on, keep on marchin'

Heimdall was gazing simply at Elizabeth, as though he wasn't stunned or surprised by what he saw. 

'The little research that has been done says that a very powerful memory will bring back all of her memories.' Ghaida's voice echoed in her head. 

'He won't come back until Elizabeth remembers him. Says he doesn't want to see her eyes looking at him without their love.' Loki's voice grumbled in her memories. 

Soldier keep on marchin' on Head down 'til the work is done Waiting for that morning sun Soldier keep on marchin' on Soldier keep on marchin' on Soldier keep on marchin' on

Suddenly, the bird, a brilliant red one flew from Elizabeth's body. The crowd looked at it, stunned and Elizabeth's eyes followed. Her eyes were glowing with fire and the fire was all around her. 

Penny looked over to see that Elijah had fallen to the floor, his hands holding himself up. A cheetah had sprung, seemingly out of Elijah. It was a glorious animal, sleek, shiny, and proud. In a lot of ways, Penny truly could see Elizabeth in the animal. 

The bird let out a beautiful cry and she saw that Elijah's eyes were lit in wonder as the bird came down, soaring through his chest and disappearing in a flash of red. When it cleared, Elijah was on his hands and knees on the floor, breathing heavily. 

The cheetah meanwhile, approached Elizabeth, who stared at it. They seemed to be having an almost silent conversation. The cheetah lunged and Elizabeth flinched not a bit as it seemed to envelope her. 

Then her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she went to collapse, before Heimdall caught her in his arms.

[pettybetty69]

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

Masterlist | Part Three

Word Count: 1.5k

January 1996

A unique education has been ingrained in your people dating back to the beginning of them. The ancient recherche teachings were practically considered tradition. Elemental education consisted of the sciences, linguistics, melee, philosophy, universal history, and just about everything else. It was disciplined, demanding, and most of the time, dreadfully boring. But it was required. 

By 6, you, Paolo, Fina, and Delfie had a linguistics repertoire that had already surpassed seven languages. Including the archaic forms of inter-Elemental communication, Gaianus. 

By 8, you four were well informed about the many realms of magic. The existence of the Asgardians, sorcerers, dimensions, the concept of the multiverse, and having an Eldritch sling ring to practice with in a place none of you kids were allowed to know. 

By 10, you all began developing techniques for elemental combat and melee. From channeling shields of sunlight, breathing fire, taking a fight up into Mount Gaia’s dense clouds, to rippling the ground to knock out one another. Other times, it was simple hand to hand combat with Franca. 

By 12, you embarked upon the ancient disciplines of detection and manipulation, the Aran Orionian. A long, disciplined, complex, and tedious study of many teachings involving autonomy, chemical compositions, and element analysis. Though torturously boring, it was responsible for your ability to read people, to detect the vibranium casing King S’Yan’s body, and to control the sphere of power within yourself that maintained the secret. A sixth sense. 

Training always came over any studies, plans, or friends. But failing any of those things would result in disappointed looks or being grounded. So, the four of you begrudgingly had to make it work. 

____

There was a blur of a green clearing below your trembling hands and knees. It was as though the oxygen had been stripped from your lungs and a charging bus had slammed into you. 

Rigorous pants clawed at the walls of your throat but the encompassed pain was rapidly subsiding.

“Get up! Again!” Franca’s demanding voice echoed in the forest clearing. 

The winter snow had been cleared from the grassy plane for Sunday’s training. Paolo and Delfie were spent and disheveled watching the rounds between you and Franca. Fina watched nervously sitting beside the boys, reluctant for her upcoming turn. 

You spat blood onto the ground. The Aran Orionian alarmed, spiking a rush of adrenaline through your veins. 

Something was coming. 

You swiftly threw your weight to the side and a blinding burst of glowing light shot past your eyes. The air smoked with truffles of gray. A small crater made home on the ground you were a mere second before. Your frightened stare shot toward Franca who was lunging toward you in flight, having chucked a spear of lighting a second from electrifying your face. 

A shield of glowing sunlight conjured from thin air. The two of you began to fight again. However, it was short lived. Less than half a minute later, you were on your back once more, attempting to grasp a breath with Franca above you. 

Her sharp Elemental eyes were green, completely green. The vibrant irises were swelled over the size of what a human’s should be. The sclera wasn’t white, just another tinted shade of the emerald tone.

“Don’t you think for a second that an opponent will wait for your re-gathering! They will come from behind and attack without provocation!!” Her voice was harsh on a rush of authoritarian adrenaline. Her deep skin was ethereally glowing, her body’s golden aureole crystalizing with her booming voice.

She continued: “You're in over your head! You move impulsively, ignorant to the consideration of consequence! Recklessness can not be spared if you don't have the necessary skill to get you out alive and unmaimed!" 

Fina’s turn began and ended, and though her skills were good, she struggled against the tough opponent of her mother. Though you all loved her, there was an active resentment toward her after every combat round. 

You all had recollected yourselves and stood in a spaced, horizontal line with backs straighter than pins preparing for the next sector of training.

Franca, barely disheveled, began again:

"Next, you will fight in pairs while I observe. Fina and Delfie, then Paolo and Alessa. The objective is subtle. Imagine you're fighting an opponent out there and they can't know what you really are. What will you do to use your gifts to your advantage but having it be invisible to the eye, and subtle enough to not raise any eyebrows?"

“There are an endless amount of methods to choose from. Thhere are many such techniques from the Aran Orionian, extracting the opponents oxygen, stunning the cerebellum, dehydrating the body. Or take to the Polydorus techniques of silent conjuration of chemical stunners."

She didn't talk about her "work" often. You all knew she was a journalist, quite a successful one. But you all knew, she was more than just a journalist. Same with your mother and Zio Luca. By the way she speaks of these acts without wincing, how meticulously refined her element and physical melee tactics were, how swift and silent moving her methods were..... she has to use them regularly.

“But, I want to see something new. Something I can not predict. Begin.”

After the session, winded and exhausted, you went to Franca. She had just finished critiquing Delfie's finger positioning.

"Baby, I hope you were able to retain some of it." She was always softer afterwords, but a nightmare during. "Unfortunately, it is the hurt that teaches us." She wrapped her arm around you and squeezed your shoulder.

"Unfortunately." You sighed. "Can I talk to you about something?"

"What's on your mind, baby?"

You abruptly vented about the UN. Everything about annoying cameras, you and Goldman’s talk, and T'Challa's reasoning of it all. Her demeanor cooled after your speech. Her heart rate lowered chillingly and the typically relaxed muscles of her face were stiff. 

“What is it?” you asked. “Is there something wrong?”

"I wish you'd talk to your mother about this." She said, disappointedly.

"She's already paying for the plane tickets and they're not cheap. She's going to get mad at me for any sort of complaining."

"At the end of the day, she's your mother, Alessandra. She's the only one you will ever have. Pushing her buttons may be my favorite hobby, but I have to respect that she has final say on what of it you will be told."

What?

"‘What I'll be told?’" You repeated.

Her warm aureoled, Sphinx face expressed irritated regret. "Gaia, damn it." She cursed under her breath and stomped her foot into the grass. "I curse my tongue!" she shouted at the dusk sky above.

"What do you mean, Zia?"

"Merda-- just-- just talk to your mother, understand me? She'll tell you what you need to know."

"What I need to know? But that won't be anything." You grew frustrated. Not at Franca, but the idea of having to face your mother.

"I'm sorry, baby." She frowned, sliding her calloused hands down your sweaty cheeks.

"Instead of Work Saturday, I'll give you an extra session."

"But I need the money for Madrid." You sighed, disappointed. Franca shook her head and lifted your chin with her finger.

“My office needs rearranging. Train for three hours, organize for three hours, and I'll give you enough for sweets and souvenirs."

You hugged her tight. “Thanks, Zia."

She squeezed you tightly. "Remember to slip in some Cerveza's in your case on your way home, aye?" She winked green in green eye, mischievously. You chuckled and returned the wink.

As always, the training ended with you all on your knees, thanking and sending love to Gaia. Your heads would press the ground along with the palms of your hands. Then sunlight would sprout through your fingertips, through the ground, and to the zenith of Mount Gaia. Every time, there was euphoric breeze you'd like to think was her. 

As predicted, your mother told you nothing. Told you to continue on with the position, "do you're supposed to do," and get out of her office. A frustrated evening, a frustrated shower, and a frustrated flop of yourself onto your bed.

"Ouch!" You yelped. Your head collided against a hard object. You whipped around, rubbing your head though the pain was gone in seconds. You saw two panels of Kapok tree bark laid on top of your silk pillowcase. It was a thick booklet with a scribbled title, "Orion's tractate."

Hm. Orion? Why Orion? He was an Elemental hunter from the 1700s. One of the victims to the genocide. Other books described him as a bit of a loon. Apparently, he isolated himself in the thick of the Amazon, surviving only on nuts and river water. He was severely unfond of the Elemental and human race, only communicating when necessary. He would only befriend the wild Tapir's and often engaged in magicless combat with the monkeys.

You waringly examined the thick booklet, your curiosity admittingly spiked. The parchment was frayed and what looked to be an entire section being devoted to the blood splatters of his enemies.

"In Adoni's name..." you breathed incredulously.

Nonetheless, your fingers flipped to the first long page of chicken scratch. "What do you have to say, Orion?"

_____________________________________________

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

A lifetime of dates (part 3)

After being together for twenty years, Natasha and Katya have been on many dates in their lifetime. In this series, we see one from every part of their lives.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC (Katya Petrova from the Forgotten Ghost series) • Wordcount: 1.8k • Warnings: very angsty!!! • This part takes place a month or two after the events in Infinity War (after Tony gets back on Earth) do not repost my work as your own or translate my work Masterlist

A/N: thank youuuu @milfs69420 for this idea <3

2018

"Meet me on the roof."

Natasha hated herself for perking up with pointless hope when her phone chimed. But she hated herself even more for the way her stomach fell with disappointment when it was just Katya's name flashing across her screen. In fact, she resented herself for it. 

Every night, when Katya cautiously reached for her body in bed, she counted herself incredibly lucky to still have her wife. The odds had always been against them; Katya should not be here right now. But she was, and Natasha struggled to find solace in it. 

Sam, Wanda, Fury, T'Challa, Peter, they were all gone, their names never popping up on her phone anymore. Their absence outweighed Katya's presence by miles, and she couldn't get it to change. The darkness was too powerful, the one single star that represented Katya lost in the vastness. 

The lights in the Compound flickered on as the motion sensors picked Natasha up along her journey to the roof. She could hear the fluorescents in the eerie silence, above the sound of her shoes on the stairs and the soft click as the doors fell into the frame behind her. 

Everything was fully abandoned two weeks ago. Recruits left to find out what remained of their families, and the other Avengers—Steve, Bruce, Tony, Thor, Clint—abandoned their tasks and left the two Russians to fend for themselves, just as the world needed this team the most.

Tony fled to the countryside with Pepper, Steve into the city. Duties to his own people called Thor away, and Clint chose to run away from his pain instead of facing it. Nobody had been in contact since, their coats still hanging on the coat rack in the hallway like they left behind a past life.

Why were they allowed to move on and not her? 

Natasha didn't have it within herself to be angry about it anymore. She had been, in the beginning, but everything took so much energy these days. Eating, getting out of bed, brushing her teeth, showering. She had no energy to even think about anger as an emotion. The empty pit in her chest sucked it all in. 

She didn't want to acknowledge it for what it was, but the diagnosis lingered in the back of her head.

The roof was so dark that she had trouble locating Katya when she first stepped through the door. Where the city's skyline and the Compound's outdoor lighting used to outline her seated figure, there now was nothing. Half the city missed electricity, and entire buildings were abandoned. Natasha had to squint to make her eyes adjust quicker. 

She found Katya at the very edge of the roof, facing the silent city. Her back was turned and her legs dangled off the side of the building like it wasn't a three story drop, a bottle of some kind in her hand. 

She looked peaceful, but a dark thought flashed through Natasha's mind as she crossed the distance, fueled by the knowledge of her wife's unstable past. It was obvious Katya was struggling again, dangerous thoughts no doubt infiltrating her brain and convincing her to do irreversible things. But Natasha breathed easy knowing they lived for each other. As long as she was alive, so would Katya.

Quietly, she sat down beside her, the smooth pebbles that covered the surface of the roof unpleasant under her butt. Katya didn't acknowledge her in any way, but Natasha had a feeling she knew why they were up here. It wasn't for nothing that she planned a "date".

Neither of them said anything. They just sat there, watching the dark skyscrapers, the rustling trees, the rolling clouds that revealed parts of the moon. One nice thing about the reduced city lights; the stars were visible again.

Katya handed Natasha her bottle of beer. She felt indifferent about it, but she took a sip anyway. It tasted like crap.

They'd done this countless times before, having a drink on the roof. Especially after a tiring day, or on a warm summer evening. It was a nice way of unwinding and finding more privacy than their apartment provided. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they sat in silence. But it had never felt like this.

The air between them wasn't tense, but it was loaded with unspoken knowledge. They were losing their grip on each other and they both realized it. Natasha could feel her wife starting to slip away. She could feel herself starting to push her away.

There was already a distance between them. The love that had always been right there on the surface when she was around Katya was being pushed under by feelings stronger and more powerful. Anger, sadness, guilt, self-hatred, fear, they made that fiery flame turn into a smoldering piece of wood. 

"Stay with me." Katya said suddenly. 

Surprised, Natasha turned to look at her, thrown off by the interruption of the silence and the odd conversation starter.

Katya's words sounded like an order. One that Natasha could not disobey for the desperation that lay right underneath the surface. A plea, hidden as a command.

The light of the moon caught the fearful, sorrowful glint in Katya's eyes as they flickered towards the sky. Natasha was caught by surprise when the sight triggered a rush of feelings within herself. She didn't think she could feel anything other than heavy emptiness.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised.

"You're already miles away," Katya whispered, carefully glancing at her. 

Shamefully, Natasha averted her eyes to the bottle in her lap. Her heart ached in her chest, but she cherished the sharp stabs. It meant that she still cared about Katya's pain. 

"I'm just so…" Her fingers curled into fists, that powerless feeling that threatened to crush her day and night fighting its way to the surface and making her tear up with anger.

The tears kicked Katya to life. Broken souls or not, they were wives, and protective mode would always kick in when the eyes glossed over. She leaned into Natasha's side, carefully prying her clenched fingers open to slide her own between them. 

"I know. Me too."

Natasha relaxed slightly, but she couldn't help but focus on how even this touch felt foreign. Their palms were touching each other, but it's as if they were both wearing gloves. They couldn't fully reach each other. And the more she fixated on it, the more terrified she became. 

She loved her wife. She loved her. Why could she not summon that feeling through the thick cloud of emptiness? Why did this touch not magically heal her?

Panic rose in her throat. 

Not this, too. After everything they lost, she couldn't lose this too.

"I'll always stay with you," Natasha vowed desperately, the beer bottle in her hand trembling along with her fingers. 

Katya didn't relax, her voice fragile and quiet as she asked, "Even if we'll forever feel like this?"

Dread wrapped around Natasha's broken heart. Forever? Forever this emptiness, forever this awful feeling of guilt and self-loathing? The only thing she feared more than living the rest of her life in darkness, was blindly stumbling through it without Katya. To have no one to talk to. No one to find comfort in. No one to live for.

She'd already gone through life like that once, before Clint found her, but she knew she wouldn't survive that a second time. Not after knowing what she'd lost.

Her throat closed with tears. "I don't want to be alone again," Natasha choked out.

"You will never be alone again." Katya's voice wavered with tears too, her grip on Natasha's hand tightening. "I'm staying too."

Natasha wanted to feel confident in their future, to know that she could provide what Katya needed. But the truth is, she already had nothing to give. All her energy and focus she put into running the Avengers brand alone. "I can't give you what I used to," she muttered, fearing Katya would leave eventually after she figured that out too.

Katya looked away, towards the swaying trees, the dark city. The reality slowly started to sink in. This would be their future for a while. Bland, hopeless, empty. It'd be hard. "Neither can I," she whispered. "Maybe we just give what we can."

Maybe. It'd have to be enough. She wasn't leaving, and Natasha wasn't leaving either. They had to make this work. They'd been through worse. They'd faced armies, death, and losing the love of their lives, and overcame it all.

Natasha's tears had long dried, the lump in her throat shrinking until it was easier to swallow. She wanted to scream in frustration. Beg whoever was listening to just fix this, so the world would be okay, and so she and Katya would be okay. But there couldn't be a god after what happened.

Her thumb traced the scar on the back of Katya's hand, memorizing the shape in case she wouldn't feel it for a while. "The love I have for you is always there. Even if you can't feel it, and even if I can't show it," she said into the silence. No horns, no sirens, no birds.

Seeing the acceptance in Katya's eyes broke her. They wanted to cherish each other like they deserved, but they knew they weren't able to give that. And to see her wife accept that reality hurt more than getting stabbed in the gut. Katya deserved everything and more.

Katya gently squeezed her hand. "Knowing is enough." The dark circles under her eyes betrayed that she'd not slept in a while, but her mind appeared clear. This bottle of beer must have been alone. "Never doubt my reason for being here, for staying. I love you, and I always will. And that single thing is enough. You are enough."

Those stupid tears. First, Natasha felt nothing, but now that the dam broke, the emotions would not stop flowing out of her. 

She was never enough. Not fast enough, not smart enough, not cold enough, not ruthless enough. And not enough to stick around for. 

Nobody thought she was worth more than someone to throw away if it was more convenient for them, if she could no longer provide what they needed.

Nobody but Katya. 

Katya didn't need anything from her. Not a hug, not a kiss, not a home cooked meal, not a way to fix every problem in the world. Natasha just needed to exist, and that was it. Exist in whatever way she could and Katya would love her. 

"We have to be okay," Natasha said, in the same tone as Katya started this conversation. An order, filled with desperation. They both knew what would happen if they wouldn't be okay, and it would not be pretty.

"We will be," Katya promised, her determination falling slightly flat. "We will be."

[tallulahchanel]

I've been moving, adjusting to my new apartment, working on my podcast and book, but I really need to update a fic, I'm not sure which one.

[theunsweetenedtruth]

Yours (7)

Summary: The ending and beginning of new things.

Previous Part

Pairing: T'Challa x Nereyda (OC) Word Count: 3,130 words Warnings: Smut (we're back in love baby!), Breeding kink A/n: Originally written in 2018. Translations: Mka-Fuck, Sithandwa sam-my love, usage-baby, ndiyakuthanda- I love you

Of course the press knew who Nereyda was, who she was to T'Challa, could see the way he seemed unable to keep his eyes off of her. The day after the ball, the news was filled with both the news of the outreach center and speculation of T'Challa's relationship status. Lunch with Nereyda had to take place in the palace gardens, where he did his best to entice Nereyda into a nearby bedroom or closet. She resisted, but T'Challa didn't mind. As much as he wanted her—and he wanted her so bad he could taste her—T'Challa wanted her back next to him more. He had plans to make her his queen. 

Unfortunately he hadn't accounted for rivals. 

Nereyda must have made a bigger impression on M'Baku than T'Challa had been expecting. But how could she not have? She was beautiful, smart, sensual. Anyone could tell from just a look and M'Baku must have been enraptured by a dance. Even if it had been cut short by the king. 

M'Baku did what he could to court her in the months after, using the same methods that T'Challa himself had used in the beginning of their relationship. He sent vegetables that could only grow in Jabari lands, expensive furs for her bed and her body, and uncut gemstones. When T'Challa arrived to her apartment to find that M'Baku had sent hand craved figurines, he felt a bit put out. 

Nereyda did her best to reassure him that she wasn't entertaining M'Baku, that she'd set up a meeting with him to return the items, but T'Challa was more upset with himself. M'Baku was a consequence of his actions; had he not lost Nereyda, M'Baku would not have had the chance to try his hand. T'Challa tried not to let it affect him in the council meetings but everyone could tell he was bothered and the reasons for it. 

The next week, the gifts stopped coming, or at least they did as far as T'Challa could see, and though the previous gifts stayed, he didn't mind as he snuggled up next to Nereyda wearing a fur blanket and nothing else. 

He lay in bed thinking about the past year and a half and the strides they'd made in their relationship. They had taken things slowly, careful not to fall into old habits and repeat mistakes. T'Challa was adamant that it would fall into place and Nereyda would be his queen. He just had to work on her time now and be patient. 

But patience had never been his strong suit. He understood they were essentially starting from scratch but Bast. They had moved at a glacial pace in the beginning. She had kept the apartment, a fact that annoyed T'Challa. He didn't just want her back in the palace, he wanted her in his bed, sharing his rooms. But again, he tempered himself and allowed her to take the lead. On the weekends, he would take a car to her apartment on the edge of the city to spend the night with her. No sex though. They would kiss, making out like teenagers and dry humping on her couch. T'Challa's head would be full of her, her taste, the softness of her skin and the breathy moans she would make. He would be hard, a king ready to soil his pants for this woman, before Nereyda would pull away. 

"We should stop," she would say and he would swallow his groan of disappointment and just hold her, his dick poking her as he tried to will it away. 

They lasted six months like that and when he finally could have her, T'Challa thought he would cry at how good it felt to lose himself in her again. 

A hand ran through his hair. "You're thinking too loud my king." 

T'Challa smiled. He grabbed at the hand and pressed a kiss to Nereyda's wrist. "I'm sorry to have woken you, my queen."

"I'm not queen." He could hear her gearing up for a fight. 

It was a point of contention for them, the fact that Nereyda had no desire to be queen. The council still made jabs at her, though Ramonda had relinquished small duties to Nereyda to ease her and them into the idea. Nereyda wanted nothing to do with it the idea though. The most she would do is sit in on council meetings—in the seat reserved for the queen—and offer sound advice that made even the council tone it down. It was also T'Challa's heavy gaze on them that held their tongues. 

T'Challa assumed that her aversion to being queen would calm at her inclusion to the council meetings six months ago but if anything, Nereyda had become more adamant that she didn't desire the position. It led to arguments that T'Challa tried to avoid but he felt like she was being a little unreasonable. If she was gonna be with him, be his wife the way he wanted, she would have to be queen. She was great at her duties and balancing them but when he brought it up, Nereyda went almost as far as sticking her fingers in her ears and screaming at the top of her lungs. He wouldn't force her though. He was willing to move as fast as she wanted

"It's okay. You're my queen. " He rolled over on her pressing a kiss to her lips. 

She rolled her eyes at the corniness but he could see the darkening of her cheeks. He settled in between her legs and found her ready for him, as usual. T'Challa bit at her bottom lip before sliding his tongue into her mouth. It wasn't a fight for dominance; the bedroom was one area Nereyda had no problem with submission if T'Challa demanded it. 

He trailed kissed down to her breasts, suckling a nipple into his mouth. She moaned and pulled at his curls tangled in her fingers. Her breasts had been so sensitive lately, he was careful not to hurt her. He lined himself up with her pushing in slow, slow, slow. There was no rush to things; T'Challa wanted to take his time with the woman he loved, the woman who loved him. And finally everyone knew it. 

Nereyda was panting in his ear at his ministrations. The slow pace had her wetter than he'd thought possible and she was clawing at his back. The pinch of her little nails on his back only exacerbated his need to come. He wanted to hold on as long as possible, had the stamina to do so, and their fast coupling from a few hours ago had taken some of the edge off. 

"Don't hold back," he whispered in her ear. "Let me hear you usana." T'Challa pulled her knees up around his hips for a deeper penetration. She let out a breathy moan and he pulled back to look into her face. Her eyes were scrunched tight. "That's it." The sound of his dick moving inside her was almost too much for him and he picked up the speed of his thrusts. He was forceful and deep and Nereyda was moaning louder, pulling him in with her feet. When she came, it was a tightening of her insides that made T'Challa groan out of the effort not to follow her over the edge but he kept going. 

"You will be my queen no matter what you say," he panted out. Nereyda was mewling, her pussy sensitive. "Rule beside me. You will carry my heirs. Mka...mka. Look how you're gripping me. Like you want me to impregnate you." She shuddered and cried out. "Is that what you want? For me to get you pregnant? I'll have your ass waddling around this whole palace." The thought of her pregnant, carrying his son or daughter is what did it for him. "Mka, ndiyakuthanda!" 

When he pulled out, he gathered into his arms to watch the sunlight stream through their bedroom windows. 

Nereyda walked around the courtyard of the orphanage watching the fifty girls who lived there play together. This was her hard work come to fruition and she had done it mostly alone, as was her plan. Once T'Challa caught wind of her idea for a girls orphanage, he tried to step in and handle things on her behalf. But Nereyda was determined to prove that she could build a life separate to his. He was upset at first; he was used to taking care of her and this independence she kept wanting to exercise was a blow to his ego. Nereyda had to sit him down one evening and let him know that while she loved him, she also loved herself. She wouldn't put herself in a position to not be able to keep going if something were to happen between them again. 

He understood then and Nereyda used tribal events she attended with him as opportunities for networking. It wasn't enough for her to have the backing of the temporary agency; if she could get the support of the tribes, she would be able to eliminate the middle men and get full access to girls who had no where else to go. Joining the council went a long way to build relationships with the tribal leaders, as much as she didn't want to do it. 

Nereyda had aversions to joining the council. Why would she want to spend time with the people who blatantly disliked her and wished she would disappear? They were willing to have T'Challa and Nakia be miserable for the rest of their lives before they decided to help people that looked like them. But her being queen was very important to T'Challa, and as much as he threatened to replace them, having a council that stood behind them would make things easier for them. She'd had some help arriving at that conclusion.

Nereyda was in the office of the orphanage. She had only six girls that were being watched by a woman who she'd hired upon opening. She had to get her numbers up or else the agency would stop sending girls her way and they would be sent to the dora or the Dora Milaje. As much as it had worked out for her, she wanted girls like her to have more options. 

A knock sounded at her office door. "Come in." She didn't look up from the bills she was reading. They were piling up. 

"Excuse my interruption, but you should really have a Dora with you."

Nereyda's head snapped up at the voice and immediately stood. "Queen Mother," she curtsied, more out of habit than anything else. 

Queen Ramonda waved her off, looking around the office, a thoughtful look on her face. Nereyda desperately wanted to know why she was here. 

"You love my son, right?"

She knew the answer; Nereyda would not have allowed herself to be publicly ruined further if she didn't love T'Challa. "Yes. With my everything."

Queen Ramonda nodded and they stood there awkwardly. It was the most they had spoken since Nereyda had moved out of the palace and the first time they had been alone since the night of T'Challa's ascension.

Finally, Ramonda spoke. "I think we both know that if T'Challa has anything to do with it, you won't be going anywhere, ever." Her tone was dry.

"Does that bother you? That your son loves me?"

She smiled a little. "No. Not anymore. I see that you are more than your status. What you have built here," she gestured around the office, "is proof that you have goals beyond being a king's wife. That you would publicly endure ridicule and show how much you love him is enough for me."

Nereyda did her best to keep her features still but she wasn't impressed with Ramonda's speech. It was a nice thought but Nereyda would proceed with caution before trusting her. Her silence was speaking for her though because Ramonda gave a small smile and sat in the chair across from the desk.

"Perhaps with time I can earn your trust, along with my son's." She looked a bit sad before shaking it off. "In the meantime, let's see how I can help you."

It was Ramonda who advised her to work the council to benefit her. After all, it was what T'Challa and Nakia had done, allowing the council to think that they were succumbing to their influence when in actuality the duo were playing the elders. Nereyda needed to take on small responsibilities to show that she was there for the long haul. Which she undoubtedly was. But now it was time to show the council. Moving back into the palace had been an exercise in patience but seeing the look on T'Challa's face the day she had shown up with all her things had made it worth it. 

He had been so patient with her and she had not made it easy for him. He believed Nereyda didn't want to be queen and it disappointed him because his royal status was a part of himself that he—nor she—could avoid. But he was only partially right; Nereyda didn't want people to think she only wanted to be with T'Challa to be queen. If she'd followed him, she would've been his wife and queen within weeks and no one would have taken her seriously. As much as she wanted to be his wife, Nereyda still felt that she had to prove herself to the people of Wakanda, that she was more than T'Challa's dora or an inspiration to all doras out there. She was a business woman, head of an orphanage for young girls, that with her hard work would remain a place of safety for them that she'd never had until she met T'Challa. 

But now things would change. As she stared out the window, she pressed a hand to her stomach and thought back to this morning. Nereyda was surprised that T'Challa hadn't already picked up on the changes to her body, the tender breasts, the small pudge that wasn't there previously, but she figured he'd been distracted as of late, getting ready to open another outreach center. When they were together, they were making love or he was knocked out after barely kissing her goodnight. 

The only people who knew were Ayo, who'd been assigned to as her personal guard once she'd moved back into the palace, and Shuri, who'd confirmed Nereyda's suspicions. They'd both been sworn to secrecy but there was no denying it. 

Nereyda was pregnant. 

She'd been terrified before having an ultrasound with Shuri but after seeing the product of her and T'Challa's love, Nereyda felt a sense of peace wash over her. T'Challa would be ecstatic, especially if his words from earlier were to be believed. Nereyda kicked her work into high gear at the orphanage, hiring three more women in addition to the two who had been with her from the beginning and training someone to act in her stead to sustain the home for girls in her absence. She felt like they had their suspicions but no one mentioned anything to her. Luckily, her only symptom seemed to be a deep exhaustion that could be explained with the amount of hours she'd been putting in at the orphanage. 

She could barely wait to tell T'Challa and have him shout it from the mountain tops but she knew that if she told him immediately, there would be no stopping him. T'Challa would have her on lockdown, meals at a certain time, three or four guards following her around, bed rest. She had to handle the orphanage first and make sure it would be in good hands before she succumbed to T'Challa's nagging. 

She couldn't wait much longer though. Her stomach was growing by the day and she couldn't fit into most of her tighter fitting dresses. She patted her stomach. "You want to be seen now so I gotta tell your baba before you expose me." She smiled at the small flutterings she could feel. 

She looked back out the window to see T'Challa himself coming into the courtyard. Older girls saluted him while some of the little ones crowded around him. He stooped to their level, listening to their questions and answering. Mia, a four year old who was one of his favorite children whispered into his ear. T'Challa glanced up at Nereyda and she waved from her place in the window. He quickly separated himself from the girls to enter the building and Nereyda watched him until she couldn't see him anymore. 

She heard him enter the room and turned to face him. Just like that first time in the market place, she was struck at how handsome he was. He was an imposing presence that still took her breath away. She couldn't believe Bast had blessed her to get to love this man. 

T'Challa crossed the room, and cupped her cheeks. "Sithandwa sam, what is the matter?" Nereyda had begun crying without realizing. Blasted pregnancy hormones. 

"I'm pregnant." 

She hadn't meant to blurt it out to him but she was tired of keeping it from him. He stood in shock, slack jawed and confused. "You are pregnant?" 

"Yes, seems as if my birth control is no match for the Black Panther." T'Challa smirked before gathering her into his arms. Nereyda pressed her face into the crook of neck, allowing his scent to wash over her and calm her. 

"You're having my baby," he murmured. She nodded, squeezing him closer. He pulled back after a few moments. "I've been waiting for the right time to do this." 

He dropped to one knee, pulling out a ring. The newly dried tears flowed again and she covered her face. "Nereyda, will—"

"No wait. I just need a moment." She looked around the room, analyzing the way her life had turned out, the man at her feet, the fact that she was carrying his baby. She couldn't believe that this was her life. 

"You can not possibly say no when you will be having my son," T'Challa joked. 

"No, I just want to remember this moment for a while. I want to remember my life in this moment and how happy I am right now." They were there for a while. "Okay I'm ready." 

T'Challa looked deep into her eyes. "Nereyda, my adored one, will you do me the honor of marrying me?" 

"Yes." He slipped the ring on her finger before standing and drawing her in for a long kiss. 

She stood there in his arms, basking in his scent and his warmth. She was happy, T'Challa made her happy, and she wanted to spend the rest of her life just being his.

[clearlydiamondz]

Loyalty to Royalty

Erik!Stevens x OC

Part Eight

- - - - - - - - - -  

Princess Imani was the black sheep of her family, never really fitting the female royal type. When an arranged marriage between Prince   N'Jadaka and her is set up, she tries her hardest to get away... but she just can’t.

- - - - - - - - - -

"We as a nation continue to mourn a great loss. We are still in the works of pinpointing how the King and his Step Daughter were killed. The Royal Family are still waiting for the autopsy-"

The TV screen was shut off before Imani turned around to see who the intruder was. She saw that it was Erik before she sighed closing her eyes. "I didn't mean to interrupt your program, but the councils are waiting for you," Erik said walking into the living room, where she was.

For the last few days after she was medically released on the watch of both Nakia and Shuri, everyone thought it would be much safer for her to stay in Wakanda. Not being seen in the public eye since the death of her father, there were news outlets all over the world wondering where she could be.

Some tiktokers speculated that she was the one who killed so she could get the throne faster. Some other conspiracy theories thought that all of the Kambaho family was murdered. It was in her best interest not to leave the palace until the councils knew who she was and what she was capable of.

"You are fine," she whispered standing up. She wiped her dress off as he walked in front of her with a tilt of her head. "Do I look okay?" she asked him as he grabbed her hands brought them up to her lips and kissed her knuckles.

"Gorgeous.. but that ain't nothing different." he joked as she laughed lightly looking down at her feet. "Listen-" he lifted her head by the chin to make him look at her. "I don't care what happens in there. I will always be beside you.." he whispered to her. She smiled at him, almost tearing up. She threw her head back to prevent the tears from falling.

"I'm trying so hard not to cry," she whispered as he laughed. He placed a kiss on her forehead before placing a kiss on her lips.

"Let's do this." We walked to the throne room where the councils from both countries sat. The talked amongst each other until the two of us walked through the door. T'Challa stood up bowing at the two of us before the councils followed through.

"Your majesty." They said in unison, as Imani cringed. She would not be getting used to that at all.

"I have invited the soon-to-be queen and king because they will be sharing some interesting news," T'Challa replied sitting down.

"And that is?" The council member, Jean asked with a tilt of her head.

"We did a toxin screen report on the King when he passed away." she started.

"I thought he died of natural causes?" M'Baku asked.

"The night that the palace was attacked, I don't believe that they were trying to attack Amarah... I believe that they were trying to attack me. The screen reported that there were traces of cyanide in his body before he died." I replied. The council room broke out into conversation before one of the council members for Kambaho spoke up.

"Why are we just finding out about this now?" Council member, Zakariah asked. "This should have been known from the moment the King passed away."

"I understand- but circumstances enabled me to do so. I too was poisoned." I stated. Ramonda gasped as everyone shook their heads in disbelief.

"Impossible. You wouldn't be standing here to tell your story if this was true!"

"The night of the helicopter crash that took her mother, it also took her life," T'Challa said standing up as the room got quiet. "She was coding, Nakia and Shuri were trying to bring her to life but she wasn't coming to. In a fit of desperation, I allowed the two to give her the herb to revive her." T'Challa admitted.

The room ripped up into an uproar as the two sides started to argue with them. "This is the most foolish thing you could have ever done!" the merchant tribe elder exclaimed in anger.

"Kambaho now has a black panther?" Jean asked as the elders gasped at his statement.

"You guys will never have such power as the black panther!" one of their elders exclaimed. "Don't ever let that name come out of your mouth!"

Imani looked around the room, feeling a tad bit overstimulated. They were yelling across the room at each other while others were trying to plead their case. At that moment, she realized that there was little time to argue with each other and had enough.

"Enough!" she yelled. Her voice echoed across the room as everyone present turned to look at her. "I apologize if you seem betrayed that your King decided to save my life, but we have bigger fish to fry here!" she snapped. She walked closer to the middle before saying, "The Americans worked with Oshana and killed my father and killed her daughter. Their blood will not go down in vain no matter how you feel about me!"

"Princess, how do you know it was the Americans?" M'Baku asked curiously.

"The night the palace was attacked, I heard American accents," she said. "Look, they are becoming bold with their attacks. One way or another, they'll become a little too bold and it might affect Wakanda."" she finished off. The council members of both countries looked at each other before saying,

"Your majesty what do you need us to do."

"I have a proposition," Erik said. "Shuri and scientists back in Kambaho are expanding the barrier to protect also Kambaho citizens. I expect that they will be expecting this, in an attempt to get the American soldiers back." He finished.

"Well, this wasn't approved by us?" An elder of the border tribe said.

"Doesn't matter. I approved it. And plus, with these two about to be married, it is in our alliance to keep each other safe... correct?" T"Challa said. The elder said nothing as she kissed her teeth looking away.

"I know that this is bad...and I am willing to try to make amends for what happened, but right now our countries need each other more than ever. I have already lost everything I have known." she pleaded with them. The council members once again looked at each other.

"And plus, we have probably the world's strongest and smarter rulers. Physically and mentally. We are a force to be reckoned with as one." Ramonda suggested.

"I'm sure their military knows that we have them but aren't going to publicly announce how they received them considering that they were caught red-handed in an assassination and an assassination attempt of the new queen. This can buy us some time." Okoye replied as Imani raised her eyebrow in confusion.

"Time for?"

"Well your majesty, your wedding."

____________________________________________

"I already have to plan two funerals, now I have to plan a wedding?" Imani ranted walking around her room back in Kambaho. The two of them had just gotten out of the shower and were preparing to head to bed. A busy day awaited them with conferences about the King's and Amarah's death.

"Well you know you don't have to do this all alone right?" Erik asked her sitting at the edge of her bed. "I'm here, and I'm sure T'Challa and Auntie Ramonda do not have any problem helping you out.

"I know it's just-" she put her hands over her face and sighed. "-Usually I'm so great with this kind of thing. I know how I want it, I know what to say, I know what to do but my mind is just-" she paused trying to find the word but it never came out.

"To be fair, usually you aren't doing these things in the midst of the death of your father," he said as a matter of fact. "Look, it seems like you are spiraling-"

"You think I am spiraling?" she asked him crossing her arms over her chest.

"That's not what I meant. What I'm saying is-" he stood up grabbing her hands. "You have a lot of emotions going on, and you think that you have to do it all. Because if you don't you think it'll all go too shit." Erik said.

As much as she hated it, he read her to complete filth. That's exactly how it was. The fact that her father passed away, without her being queen left her country without a proper leader in the midst of all this chaos. It seemed like it was a directed attack and to add on top of all that, she was still grieving.

"You're right... I'm sorry if I was a little snappy," she told him as he smiled at her.

"Here, I'll make a few phone calls tomorrow. They can start planning everything but nothing gets done unless you approve it." he grabbed her face as she nodded.

"Okay.. perfect. That sounds perfect." she smiled at him. He kissed her on the lips then pulled away. He then traced his thumb on the bottom of her lips.

____________________________________________

She couldn't fall asleep. With Erik beside her sleeping peacefully, she envied him. Her mind was running a thousand miles a minute with no end goal in mind. Overwhelmed, she threw the blankets over her body and walked out. She walked around the palace before stopping at a portrait of her father, mother, and her a few years ago.

She remembered arguing with her father the night that Oshana and Amarah moved in that they needed to keep it. Oshana hated the portrait and wanted a new one with just her father, Amarah, and Oshana. That proposition got nipped right in its side.

Her mind begins racing to the death of her father. Though after the death of her mother, they weren't as close, it was still her father. The one who trained her for the day to become queen. And it wasn't fair to either one of them that he wouldn't be able to see her. Anger filled her emotions, but just as quick as it came it went away. She knew that she couldn't kill the soldiers down stairs, or even totrue them.. but she had something else in mind.

Imani found herself on the outside of the one-way glass, looking at the soldiers who were tied up inside. No clothes on and in just their underwear, they seemed so helpless. There were about six of them who were caught. After much research, she found out that they were trained Navy Seals who were on a blackout operation.

"Good evening, I just came here to take the soldiers on a tour of the castle." she smiled at them. They looked at her confused before saying,

"Your majesty, are you sure? They seem-"

"Just open the door please and thank you," she told them. Hesitantly, they opened the door for her as the lights kicked on. The soldiers groaned in agony as she stood in the middle of the room as they looked at me in shock.

"Good evening soldiers. I hope I didn't have you guys in here for too long. I was in my grieving period." she smiled at them as they stared at her and said nothing. "Awe I apologize, I hope my guards have been kind to you. They have been feeding you correct?" she asked them. Again nothing.

Tilting her head to the side they had yet to say nothing. Grabbing the remote to the electrical handcuffs before she said, "I"'m going to release you from your strains. Please don't try anything stupid. There are about thirty Dora Milaje soldiers around this premises, and also three very super beings who can break your leg bones within a matter of seconds. So please.. don't try anything stupid." she begged them. She unlocked the controls before some of them fell over having to be stuck in that position all week.

"So I actually-" she walked to the doorway before grabbing a bin. "Grabbed you guys some clothes. I know the cold here is brutal, especially being under the structure so I grabbed you guys some clothes. Please." she opened the chest. They all looked at her, still not moving as she sighed. She looked up and saw one of the soldiers who name was Richard Brady.

"Mr.Brady is it?" she asked him. He looked confused, almost shocked that she knew his name. "See I took the time to get to know who each and every one of you sitting here. What you do when you aren't stationed, where you go on Sundays for church," she stated while taking the clothes out of the bin and placing them out. "But on a more intimate level... I know every single one of you guys has a wife and children waiting for them to get back too. Taylor, Jannette, Maria, Isabella..." she trailed off naming off the names of their wives.

"You touch my fucking wife I'll gut you!" Richard snapped at her as she sighed shaking her head, then chuckled.

"Mr.Brandy, I don't think I mentioned ever killing your wife and kids... I don't even think I ever mentioned killing you," she said. "With that being said, I'll give you guys a few minutes to get dressed. Show you guys around the castle." she turned around to give them their privacy before standing back outside. She looked at them slowly stood up and walked to the bin where they had clothes.

"Are we really going to listen to this nut job?" Micheal, one of the seals, asked confused about why they were standing up.

"Firstly, it's cold as hell in here. And two, that nut job just so happened to list of my wife's name first!?" Kyle whispered and yelled back.

"At this point, the worst thing they can do is kill us," Richard mumbled slipping on the pants. Imani couldn't help but to smirk to herself, as she saw the men give in to her demands.

"Let the Wakandian security know I am moving with the soldiers," she said patting the guards on the back of their shoulders.

As they exited the cellar, the guards followed behind them as she turned around. "You don't have to follow me," she told them. She looked at them waving her hands.

"You can leave," she responded to them as they looked at each other.

"Your majesty, w-we can't leave you alone with them," she replied.

"I think I can take it from here," Okoye replied standing in the doorway. She was in her full gear, holding her spear. Imani looked at her confused.

"Do you sleep in that?" she asked her as Okoye shrugged.

"Usually I don't. But when colonizers who are amid...well colonizing, I tend to," she replied fake smiling at the soldiers. Imani chuckled at the joke before shaking her head.

"I am actually taking these soldiers a look around the palace. I'm sure they know the inside and out of this place due to my dear stepmother, but I want them to see it in person," she said as Okoye raised her eyebrow at her.

"Of course... but why?"

"Why not?" Imani shrugged her shoulders. "Follow me," she told the soldiers as she walked passed Okoye.

Imani showed the soldiers the historical palace, showing them different artifacts and paintings that hang around. She stopped at the family portrait. It was a painting of her father, mother, and her when she was eleven years old.

"Mani!" she looked to her right and saw Erik and a few guards running towards her grabbing her arm. "Is everything alright? I heard that they had escaped?" he turned to look at them as she shook her head.

"No... I was just taking them on a tour." she smiled at him. Erik looked at the soldiers before looking back at her.

"Why though?" he asked her, confusion written all over her face.

"Why not?" she responded as she did with Okoye. Before Erik could respond, Micheal snapped.

"This crazy ass bitch, go put in her a fucking psych ward." Erik looked back at the soldiers before walking over towards him.

"She might want to spare your life but I don't mind putting a fucking knife through your eye." He reached in the band of his sweatpants grabbed a dagger and put it to the poor man's neck.

'Wait.. that was kind of sexy.. ' Imani thought but shook her head at the nasty thoughts.

"Woah their jaguar.. the last thing we need is American blood on our hands." Okoye stopped him with her spear. Erik's stare didn't stop as he said,

"Speak to her like that again, I'll send your body parts to your wife bitch ass nigga."

"What kind of sick joke is this? Huh? Y-You take us on a tour of this place before you kill us?" Micheal asked. Okoye couldn't help but scoff.

"My goodness... for a navy seal you are quite scared of death." Okoye teased them. It fell silent before Imani decided to cut the tension.

"This is the last portrait painted of my family before the death of my mother. She was taken away from me.." Imani said staring up at the picture. "And my father who was... well you know the story. You guys have a major role in that story." Imani mentioned looking back at the soldiers.

It was silent again before she turned around. "To answer your question Micheal.. no I am not going kill you." she turned around looking at them. Micheal was shocked that she knew him by name. "Trust me, I was. I was going to make it slow and painful. But then, in my revenge plan, I have seen this portrait." she looked back at it again.

"I know each of you guys have children and wives of your own, and to be quite fair I had a long thought. I cannot put them through the pain that I had to face. I wouldn't be able to live." she put her hands in front of her staring at them before saying,

"These are the hands of a queen, a ruler of her country, a leader of her people. The hands of the silver leopard., who saves and protects her country. The hands that spare. Hands that will only kill to protect what is her's. My hands will always have a place in history." she said before grabbing Michael's hands.

"These... are the hands of a murderer. The hands of evil. The hands that are owned by your government to make them do their dirty work. Who has no issue with you dying, and giving you a few gunshots to prove their grievances." she dropped his hands in disgust, wiping it on her gown.

"I'm sure that when we hand you guys over to the Americans, they'll throw you a parade, give you a purple heart, maybe even sing a little song for you if you're lucky." she chuckled. "But in the midst of your celebration, while you're hugging your family. While you receiving your purple hearts and trophies and whatnot, it's because of me. You didn't fight to stay alive. You are America's bitch. You.. are not brave by taking my father from me and attempting to kill me. You. Are. Not. Brave."

The entire room fell silent as the soldiers looked at her, puzzled and embarrassed. She cleared her throat before smiling at them. "So this is how it's going to go. You will continue your visit here in Kambaho under extreme supervision. We will release you back to your command once I am queen and I make my announcement. No one will cause harm to you or your loved ones." she responded back with a smile.

"Though I did say I won't kill you, please don't make me change my mind. You guys did try to kill me so I won't hesitate to have you killed." she then looked back at Erik grabbed his hand and looked to the guards. "You can take them back to the cell. Give them some food, blankets, and some proper bedding, please. When I return them to the Americans, I need them in good condition."

Erik was more than thrown off by her actions. He honestly didn't know whether to fear or admire the princess. As the two walked back to the room she stopped before turning back around.

"I hope I didn't offend you. I know you were a seal yourself," she responded, feeling a tad bit guilty on her tangent. He chuckled before kissing her on the lips before saying,

"Nope, honestly I think I admire you. If it was me, they would've been killed already," he said with a chuckle.

"Eh, that's the easy way out," she said continuing to walk to their room. After entering the room and shutting the door, he couldn't help but ask her,

"Why didn't you kill them?" he asked her sitting on the bed.

"I couldn't. They are only doing what they are instructed to, if I do want to kill someone it would be either Oshana or the people who instructed them," she responded with a shrug. "Plus, if I sat there and tortured them what real harm could I do? They are trained to receive that sort of pain.. and physical wounds can heal with time," she replied getting back into bed.

"Psychological wounds though? Those are what cause real harm. They'll never receive a reward within their years of service without remembering what was told to them." she replied settling into the bed and underneath her covers.

"And let's be honest, they don't seem like the type who believes in therapy." He chuckled before cuddling into her.

There was a silence before she broke it. "After the funerals, I will tell the world the truth," she whispered. Erik looked at her, a tad bit shocked before saying,

"Are you sure you want to do this? Now?" he asked her as she turned her body to look at him.

"I need to do this. With the barrier and everything that we need to have ready in order for us to become rulers, I believe I need to," she admitted to him.

"Aye.. this is a good decision. But do be warned... with everything that's happening.. the spotlight is going to be on us... for a while." he warned her as she nodded, with a smirk.

"That is what I want."

_____________________________________________________

"Yesterday, my father and step-sister were laid to rest with the ancestors and spirits of our loved ones," Imani spoke into the mic and looked at the cameras of the plentiful news stations. A broadcast that was being shown all over the world.

"It is hard, I will not say it is easy. To sit here after saying my final goodbyes, but truthfully... I have an odd feeling that this isn't our last of time being with each other. This is what gives me the courage to come here and tell you what I do now." she looked over the crowd of people.

"You guys may wonder why the Wakanda barrier may have reached our motherland. Rumors and speculations indicated that it was because of the transitioning of powers, that my fiance and I needed the protection. But in all honesty, it wasn't because of the protection of ours, but for the people of Kambaho. My father., did not die of natural causes. My father was killed right along with my step-sister," she replied. Questions and comments filled the air as gasps were heard.

She continued to tell the people of Kambaho the truth about the death of her father. Even going into description about the whereabouts of Oshana, and her part in the death. However, she did leave out crucial information about the attack on the palace. Erik and her decided that to keep America in the blind, not announcing their attack would most likely give them a chance to play make-up.

If America wasn't being blamed, how could they come and defend themselves?

"Not only was our King poisoned with Cynanide, but I was also a target. However, due to my current condition, I was able to survive the poisoning." Confusion and questions filled the answer once again knowing that the princess was poisoned. Clearing the questions, she then spoke again.

"A few years ago, when Queen Kamila and I were in a terrible accident that resulted in the death of our Queen and my mother. I, as well was on the brink of death. The King of Wakanda, T'Challa made the hard decision to break a Wakiandian law and saved me using the Heart-Shaped Herb that grants the Black Panther and The Golden Jaguar, their abilities." she confessed.

''With these found abilities, I have taken it upon myself to protect those under my leadership, taking on the accomplice of the White Leopard.""

Though she could hear the chaos that ensured, it only tuned out in her head, hearing it faded as her heartbeat increased. She stepped from the mic as she examined the crowd of reporters, asking questions about the status of their new Queen and future King.

''With that being said, I understand my country for centuries has had a huge hand in the passing of the crown to your future leaders. But under the circumstances of what we are as a country, and who we deem as threats to our security, the sooner that we have rule is the sooner I can guarantee each of your safety. For the time being, to protect our future, the events of our wedding and our crowning will only be in quarters, where you as a nation can see it from the comfort of your own homes. Only to ensure ours, but more importantly your and your families' safety and security." she said. She continued her speech, promising her country that she would find out who was working with Oshana.

___________________________________________

Like clockwork, she sat in her father's office watching the different news stations around the world break the news of what just happened a few hours ago. Like always, there were supporters of the princess and her true identity, while there were some who didn't.

She had more positive feedback from both the country of Kambaho and Wakanda, more than she thought initially. She was glad that her country took it well, especially with her main problem being how they would feel about the princess keeping it from them so long.

As she sat in her father’s office, she couldn’t help but feel an ick as she sat in the palace. Maybe it was the fact that it reminded her of the past, a past that she no longer was in. Without her father and mother, it didn’t just feel like home.

She heard a knock on the door before she muted the television. "Come in!" she yelled through the door. Erik stood there with a plate of food as he placed it in front of her. "The chefs said that this should bring you out of your dump." she looked at it to see Dumpling Soup of all things as she chuckled.

She and her mother took a trip to China for a few weeks when she was younger and fell in love with Dumpling soup. It was to the point where that's what everyone had for like three weeks straight until her father finally had enough.

Erik turned around seeing the news, and before he could say anything, she grabbed the remote turning it off. ''You know I can't help it." she sighed before taking a sip of the soup. She stood up before going over to her father's liquor cabinet.

"Alright, I know the old man has some good liquor stashed away, and ooh- here we go." she grabbed the Barrique de Ponciano Porfidio, the expensive tequila that he got from Mexico a few months back. She grabbed two shot glasses before putting them on the desk and pouring them a shot. Tapping the table, they threw back the shot before humming.

"Oh.. that's smooth," he said looking at the shot glass. "Well, you can have it." she handed it to him as he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Are you sure?" he asked. “This is worth like… thousands.” She nodded her head before walking to the cabinet. She poured herself a glass of whiskey as he followed behind her.

“Erik..” she called his name.

“Hm..” she turned around to look at him. “I don’t wanna be here.” she whispered.

“We can always go back to Wakanda.” He told her grabbing her glass as she shook her head.

“No I’m talking about long term. I don’t want to stay in this place.” She said looking around. “This place is no longer my home. Without my mother and my father, it’s just the place that’s filled with bad memories.” She confessed to him.

He listened to her as she gave more reason to her not wanting to stay in the main palace. He couldn’t help but notice how her plans now mentioned him. He knew deep down inside, that after the death of her father and as the new Queen, she could have easily broken their agreement and not gone with the marriage. T’Challa would be more than okay with it.

“And I know my mother and father have property on the boarders that we could possibly look at.” She finished. He didn’t say anything, he was deep in his thoughts, with her noticing it.

“What are you thinking?” She asked him, as he looked down at her.

“Nothing important.” He kissed her forehead before saying, “I wouldn’t expect you to want to stay here after everything. Let me know when you wanna get everything situated.” He smiled at her as she smiled back.

The two of them exited the office, making her way to her room. The two of them started to get ready for bed. Erik sat in a chair as she sat at her vanity table preparing to go to bed. “Ya know.. I was lying earlier.” He said looking at her as she looked at him through the mirror.

“About what?” She asked curiously.

“When I said that I wasn’t thinking of anything. I actually was.” He said leaning back in the chair.

“Go on…”

“I remember how you felt when we first met. About the entire… arranged marriage stuff.” He started off, standing up. “You know that because your father passed, you can become queen without the marriage.” He said walking towards her as she followed his gaze.

“Huh, didn’t think about that.” She said with a shrug. “Are you interested in creating an agreement that voids the first agreement.” she said, seeming unbothered. But quite honestly, she was pissed.

Sure, she really wasn’t up with the arranged marriage. But after these last few months, Erik deemed himself more than capable of being a King. More of the fact, she hated to admit but she did develop deep feelings for him.

Erik noticed the shift in her attitude as he smirked. “What you making that face for, huh?” He asked bending down to whisper in her ear. “Did I say that I wanted to void it?” He asked her as she bit her lip. She shook her head as he placed a kiss on her exposed shoulder. “Oh aight then.” He chuckled standing back straight. She rolled her eyes before standing up. He grabbed her waist pulling her into his chest, before lifting her chin.

“I only mentioned it because you were so worried about it when I met you. I just don’t want you to regret this in the future.” He whispered to her looking at her in the eyes.

“I mean… I’m not going to lie. When I was on medical watch, I did have that thought. Only because I knew you had your goals and what not in mind so I didn’t say anything. Honestly if you didn’t say anything, my mouth would’ve been shut.” She confessed to him.

How could she not remember this rule? When she found her father arranged a marriage for her, she made a list of things that could let her become queen. All it came down to was her father dying, or her overthrowing the crown.

“So.. you do wanna marry me?” He smirked at her as she playfully rolled my eyes. “Nah, don’t be all mean now. You do wanna be my wife.” He teased her.

“I do like you… a lot may I add.” She started as he chuckled. “I can run this country on my own, that’s a fact. But after this past year I came to the realization that I can’t let my prejudice and pride get in the way of me helping and protecting my people. Two rulers are always better than one. You are intelligent, kind, and brave and that’s what a ruler needs to be. And if it takes me marrying you to ensure that our country prosper, then so be it.” She finished as he smiled at her.

“I can respect it.”

“And plus… the sex is too amazing not to marry.”

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