#bast talks about her ears louder

[lunawritingspaceoxoxxx]

The Moon and The Ocean

7.3 words 18+ ADULTS ONLY

cats-are-illuminati

mynameisbaby9

starzalign

zeeader

agustdpeach

@quackimilktea

tian-monique

code-error-707

abbygraceasd

The princess was a strange one, not Princess Shuri, but the one where King T’Chaka and Queen Ramonda found her as a baby near the shoreline with no mother or father. Ramonda had given birth 6 months ago to their daughter Shuri and T’Chaka was hesitant to add another child to the mixture, but Ramonda convinced him and it was almost as if Bast blessed them because (Y/N) was the final piece to the puzzle. 

“(Y/N).....(Y/N)! Open your ears, sister! What do you have going on in that mind of yours?” She jumped as Shuri snapped her fingers before sped around the lab. She glanced at the scientist as she scrambled through her files. “Shuri, what are you looking for?” Shuri was paying her no attention as she let out a whoop of success before heading downstairs, the taller woman falling suit. (Y/N)’s long skirt flowed like waves in the ocean, she dressed like her mother, very formal and always in long dresses or skirts,but she typically wore neutral colors like green, brown, tan, but black and white was her bread and butter.

(Y/N) attempted to make conversation, but only to be met with silence and the occasional huh, so she decided to go to the heart of the capital. Slipping past the Dora Milaje as her giggles carried throughout the wind. “Princess (Y/N), what do you think you’re doing here?”

“M’Baku, if you could be any louder?” The leader of the Jabari chuckled as he squatted down, getting a good look at the young woman. “But if you wanted to know, I’m wandering around, everyone has important things to handle.” M’Baku nodded as he watched over the citizens of Wakanda, sending Jabari tribesmen further out. “What about your other tasks? The children have been missing your presence in the classes along with Nakia.” 

She awkwardly looked away, rubbing her arms. She missed interacting with the children, but since Nakia left Wakanda, it never felt right. “Maybe I’ll talk to Queen mother about starting the program again, it would be nice. I…Nakia was my buffer, you know how I don’t really fit in and she put the time and effort into getting to know me for me and not just as a princess that has no claim to the throne.” 

M’Baku leaned against his staff as he rolled his eyes. “Your outcome could be different,Hanuman sees a different path for you, one that is brighter than anyone among the Wakandan royal family.” (Y/N) gave a pointed look with her hands on her hips. “I’m not marrying you, M’Baku.” He’s been chasing her ever since they met as children, hoping down from the beam, he still towered over her. “I wasn’t even proposing. but you have an aura that’s a fire, but it’s not violent, it's caring and nurturing. Unlike your sister or-”

She placed her hand on his chest, effectively shutting him up as she gave him that look, tired of Hanuman speeches along with how different she was, it was irritating enough to be reminded that she wasn’t truly wakandan. “M’Baku, I appreciate your….advice, but I’m a normal woman, that’s all. Now, I must go, enjoy the rest of your day.” Picking up her skirts, she started her trek back to the palace, ignoring the eyes that stared daggers into her back as she left.

Nightfall soon fell, the citizens retiring for the night, all except one, (Y/N) had bouts of insomnia and nothing worked for her. Slipping on some slippers, she made her way to the river. She spent the majority of her nights there, enjoying the sounds of nature, but tonight she grabbed her art supplies as she wanted to create another piece. It’s months that she felt inspired enough to even look at her blank canvas, dusk collecting her tools and she almost felt like she lost her passion. 

After T’Challa’s passing, she felt the world stop, she couldn’t breathe; it was as if someone stole the air from her lungs and held it hostage. She remembered that day vividly, she flinched at Shuri’s screams,watching her younger sister reach for their brother’s cold body. Queen Ramonda was already ushered out, sobbing as Okoye held her as she tried fighting her own tears. “(Y/N)?” M’Baku questioned as wrapped his arms around her. He gently rubbed her back as she sobbed into his chest, watching as they placed the white sheet over T’Challa’s body.

She sighed as she came to, laying her blanket out as she made herself comfortable. The moonlight was a comforting light, it felt like a mother’s love; warm and unconditional love. Something that she craved, being an outsider was hard; no one really talked to her, most didn’t trust her even though she’s lived here her entire life, but no one has actually tried it with her because she was technically a member of the royal family. 

She prepped her canvas, cursing as her locs fell across her face, knowing she was forgetting something. Unbeknownst to her, a figure was watching her, barely hovering over the water line. His dark eyes roamed her curvaceous figure, childbearing hips and with her breasts almost spilling from the top of mauve silk nightdress. He slowly moved closer to her, not wanting to startle her as he could hear sing softly as she painted away, unaware of his presence.

As he moved closer, he bit his lip at her full lips, soft round face, that he could only imagine how they felt against his. He could only imagine how heavenly she felt, plush as the finest furs and he couldn’t fathom her not being taken yet. He’s watched for years, children naturally flock to her; treating them with the utmost respect and care. “Ndingazilibala njani iibrashi zam?” She muttered as she rummaged through her bag. A forgetful little thing, it’s either primary colors or tonight, it’s brushes. 

(Y/N) hummed a childhood nursery rhyme as she painted, the subject was unknown, she knew it was a man, he seemed to be a divine entity, the regal look he wore. She paused as she heard footsteps, jumping back. “Relajar, chan.” Her eyes shot daggers at him as she tried putting distance between them. “What are you even saying?! You came out of nowhere and…” She paused at the site of wings on his ankles, disturbed and confused by this mysterious man. “Who are you anyways and how did you get in here?” She knew he wasn’t wakandan, his native language, his attire was foriegn to her. He chuckled as he stepped closer to her, the scent of the ocean rolled off of him in waves.

“My allies call me K’uk’ulkan, but my enemies call me Namor, but Princess (Y/N), you can call me, In ajawo’. (My king) I’ve been watching you for some time now and your beauty and grace is unmatched, truly ethereal.” His rough hand barely grazed her cheek as he looked down at her, her eyes filled with wonder before she suddenly pulled away. “I don’t care, but why are you here? How did you sneak past the barrier?” He chuckled as he looked around, enjoying the cool weather. Everything was much more…cleaner, the water wasn’t polluted, the sea thrived in this area. “You're very lucky, ko’oj, I’ve seen how Wakanda treats you, a very beautiful and intelligent woman, who happens to be an outsider adopted by the Queen. In Talokan, my people would welcome you, some of my people have seen your struggles to be accepted and we sympathize with that.”

Namor stepped away as footsteps got louder, he knew he couldn’t risk being caught this early on. “Until next time, ko’oj.” “Princess (Y/N)!” She jumped when Okoye and Ayo stepped through the bush, spears drawn as they surrounded her. “Okoye, what’s the meaning of this? I was just painting-” The young woman fell silent at Okoye’s glare, shyly looking away. “What did I tell you? You cannot be out here this late at night, your mother-” “Ngoba? Andikho kuluhlu lobukhosi, ukhuseleko lwam alukho kuqala kuye.” (Why? I am not next in line for the throne, my safety is not her priority.) (Y/N) said as she hurriedly grabbed her slippies, trying not to cry from frustration. “Why? It doesn’t matter if you’re not in line for the throne, your mother still wants to see you safe. We can’t do that if you’re going to sneak out.” Ayo spoke, planting her spear into the ground. 

Wordlessly (Y/N) headed back towards the palace, ignoring Okoye’s and Ayo’s questioning. Queen Ramonda sighed in relief as her daughter walked through the living area. “She wasn’t hurt or anything?” “No, my queen, she’s fine, but just irritated.” Ramonda rolled her eyes as she stood from the sofa. “Of course she is, when she’s not?” Okoye cleared her throat, shuffling on her feet awkwardly. “My Queen, may I suggest, she was sent to live with Nakia? Maybe that would be a better environment for her?” 

“I just lost my son and my other daughter has pushed me away, why would I send one away especially now?” Okoye stayed silent, knowing if she spoke one more word, she would incur her wrath. Ramonda truly cared for (Y/N), but she couldn’t treat her like she did Shuri. No matter what, the council would never recognize her as a member of the royal family. Ramonda knew it strained their bond as (Y/N) grew older, but it wasn’t just with her only, it affected everyone else’s. Dinners would be lively and full of smiles, until it just became Ramonda.T’Challa’s illness consumed him and Shuri had taken the responsibility to cure him. 

Namor quietly painted, deep within his thoughts, frustrated that the conversation was cut short. Those pesky warriors always seem to be tracking her, which he understands, but she was adopted, she has no claim–nothing, so why are they so adamant on keeping her safe? “K’uk’ulkan, Ba'axten j-binech chúunk'iin o'niak. Yaan k beel cautelosos yéetel leti'ob.”(Why did you leave late last night? We need to be cautious about them.) Namor placed his brush down,sighing as he stood to his full height. “Namora, Ba'axten cuestionar in. A wojel ba'ax ma' pondría ti' talamilo'ob k máak u propósito ti', waal mía.” (Why question me? You know I wouldn’t purposefully endanger our people, my child.) 

“In wojel ba'ax ma' u harías, ba'ale' Táantik u K'astal u ajawo' yéetel u protector.Táan ti' jump'éel kúuchil talamil yéetel ma' in wa'alike' u bixake' prudente perseguir ti' jump'éel le princesas ti' le k'iin.” (I know you wouldn't, but they just lost their king and their protector. They're in a vulnerable place and I don't think it's wise to pursue one of the princesses during this time.) Namora knew he was infatuated with the princess, but she needed him to be focused on Talokan and their needs. She quietly left as Namor became unresponsive, not trying to upset him.

Namor sighed as he stared at the mural, understanding where Namora was coming from. Wakanda had opened herself to other nation’s and their greed. Vibranium was a precious resource to both countries and he knew that countries like France and The United States wouldn’t understand, they only see the potential of how dangerous it could be. Namor also knew that they wanted to be the ones who held the power over their heads. He needed to plan this strategically if he wanted this partnership to come to fruition.

(Y/N) allowed a couple of days to pass before heading towards the river bank, leaving her kimoyo beads if Shuri were to track her. She creeped through the brushes, her head on swivel as she constantly checked around. “For a princess, your guards are incompetent, especially the taller one. Are those your best warriors?” She jumped, whipping around to see Namor’s smiling face. “Oh Bast,”She held her chest as he chuckled,”You’re very fast for someone’s structure.” “I cannot help it, my wings assist me in much of that, but I’m glad that I’m able to see you again.” She couldn’t help notice how close he was to her, his body heat radiated off of him even though he was drenched. 

“Your clothing….you’re older than what you appear, a couple of thousand years, perhaps?” Namor let out a hearty chuckle, at her guess and face; her round cheeks puffed out at the audacity of him to laugh in her face. “I’m closer to 500, where did you think that?” He teased, leaning closer to her as she stuttered, looking away as she tried to defend herself. “I…I’ve dealt with aliens and talking raccoons, who appeared older than me, but were younger, but 500? What exactly are you?” He appeared humanlike, minus the pointed ears and the wings on his ankles, along with enhanced abilities.

“I’m a mutant, close to 500 years ago, my mother and her people ingested a plant infused with vibranium, hoping it would cure the disease that Spanish conquistadores, but instead it turned their skin blue and gave them the ability to breathe underwater. At first, my mother refused because she didn’t know how it would affect me, but the priest convinced her otherwise. She prayed for a protector, having their homeland taken by the Spanish and having to start over, that’s when she was blessed. I was born, but I wasn’t like the typically Talokanil, I could absorb the oxygen from the air as well the sea, that’s why named me K’uk’lkan.” 

Her eyes widened at the mention of vibranium, giving him a skeptical look. “Vibranium? It only occurs in Wakanda, how would that be even possible?” “Vibranium is rich within the Atlantic Ocean, my people use it for everything from tools to our homes, why do you think Wakanda is the only place who has it? My necklace is made of vibranium along with my belt.``True to his word, it glowed a deep royal purple, the tell-tale sign of its true nature. Namor tilted his head, curious as he twisted a loc on his finger; (Y/N) was too deep into her thoughts to care. “That's what I've been told since I was child, that’s all I’ve known, the royal family don’t certain things to be taught or allowed in the city, it may be different for other tribes, but my mother made sure that our minds weren’t tainted by the outside world.” 

Her words said one thing, but eyes said another, denial and confusion, but mostly denial. “One day, I’ll bring you to Talokan and show you the city, see how vibranium is used by my people, it’s more antediluvian, we keep everything simple because once you become more advanced, I believe you begin to lose your edge. I would rather miss the bigger picture once, than continuously miss the smaller one.” (Y/N) gave him a look, crossing her arms over her chest. “But as king or a god, whatever you are, at one point, you’re going have to look forward. As royalty, our respective citizens expect us to have their best interests at heart and if we need to improve their lives by expanding and improving, that’s what we have to do.”

As the days bled into months as the season changed, (Y/N) snuck away more often just to steal a glimpse of Namor and vice versa, if she could spend hours listening to his voice, she could. The more she spoke with him, the more her heart wanted him. It was something about Namor and how he was able to work through her walls, shattering them one by one until she couldn’t hide anything from him. The fleeting touches and the lingering hand kisses only awakened a hunger in her that he could only sate. The council could tell she was much happier, which to some was suspicious. She wasn’t seen with anyone throughout the tribes, which irritated Ramonda, she was just happy that her daughter’s mood improved, well at least one of them. She was still trying to help Shuri; grief affected everyone differently, but she worried about her mental health. 

(Y/N) stepped through the entrance, scientists bowing their heads as she stepped through. “Shuri, would you like to come with me on a walk? It would be good for you to get some fresh air.” Shuri ignored her as she continued to run calculations as she barked orders at Griot. “I can’t, too much to do and not enough time.” “I understand that, but you cannot be your best if you’re not nourishing your body and that also goes for your mental health as well.” Shuri slammed down her tools as she glared at her younger sister.

“You’re just like my mother, always nagging.” (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed as she followed Shuri, barely holding her tongue. “What do you mean by that? Shuri, what’s happening to you? This isn’t you.” “Because I’m irritated that you’re walking around here, smiling and happy! Did T’Challa mean nothing to you!?” The scientist looked at her younger sister with tears in her eyes, Shuri was jealous, she struggled with the guilt, she couldn’t save her brother in time. She was one of the brightest minds in the world, she could solve any problem, but that She was also irritated by everyone who decided to move on, acting like the world didn’t stop.

“Shuri, he meant everything to me, he’s my brother no less like you are to him, but don’t lash out at me! Don’t you think I’m not suffering? That I don’t cry myself to sleep every night?” A heavy cloud settled between them, suffocating as they stared at each other. Technicians slowly sneaking out, knowing that they have no part in this conversation. “I know he’s with the ancestors, but he’s not gone. Death isn’t the end-” She barely dodged the tool coming at her, whipping around in disbelief. “What has gotten in your head?! Why are you acting like this!” 

Shuri kept raging on, destroying her lab as (Y/N) tried calming her down, stepping over broken glass. “Shuri, calm down before you hurt yourself!” Her ears felt itchy as the room became unbearably hot, the cool tile shifted into sand as the room melted into the Saraha desert. The sudden heat was suffocating as if the burning sand filled her lungs as she sank to her knees.“My child, my sweet child, the world hasn’t been kind to you.” (Y/N) couldn’t make out the language; she couldn’t make out anything as the light was blinding as the mysterious woman led her like mother to her calf.

Shuri had screamed for a doctor as she witnessed her sister collapse, barely breathing as she wheeled away. The news spread fast within Wakanda and the Jabari, M’Baku rushed towards the palace as the citizens crowded the walls. “What could’ve happened? A simple argument turning into this? Shuri, what actually happened?” Ramonda pressed as Shuri nervously bit her lip as she held herself, trying not to break down. “It was! It just got out of hand and threw some tools at her and then she asked me what was wrong, that's when she collapsed! I didn’t mean to cause her any stress-”

(Y/N) blinked away the sand as stepped into a temple, gaping at the symbols adorned across the walls. “Hieroglyphics…All of this is, but why me, I’m normal, I have no ties to any higher being-” “As my daughter you do, I dreamt of a child, a daughter after being trapped away for millennia. I watched my sons fade away into nothing, time is precious, but it can also be a curse. I held on as much as I could before I was forced to bestow my powers onto you, but I cannot hold on any longer.” She placed a palm on her forehead, whispering a prayer as her eyes glowed. “I don’t understand-” “You won’t understand until you have to, take my gifts and do good with them.” 

Her eyes flashed open as she felt around her body, connected to wires and an EKG machine. (Y/N) slowly climbed off of  the table as she walked towards the entrance. “Princess (Y/N), I advise you to stay and I’ll notify Queen Ramonda that you’re awake.” “No, it's fine Griot, just keep it a secret.” She muttered as she headed outside, sighing deeply as she laid back against the cool metal, her eyes fluttered shut as she slowly regained control of her limbs. 

Moon was high up, illuminating her path as she headed towards the river, humming softly as she played with the lotus necklace. The world seemed different, she could feel the energy from..everything. It wasn’t overwhelming, as if it was a calm stream in the middle of summer night. (Y/N) sighed in relief as she stepped into the water, her salvation–her oasis in the middle of the desert. Namor revealed him as he realized that it was his querido, welcoming in his arms, which she gladly took, giggling as he left small kisses across her throat. “I missed you, you collapsing would’ve never happened if you moved to Talokan with me.” Another kiss. “Never stress, only endless pleasure.” Her breath hitched as his rough hands slid underneath her gown, grazing the edge of her panties. “Let me give you that, In reina.” 

“Please, Na- K’uk’ulkan, please-” “I know, just trust me, okay?” He gently placed a mask, rubbing her hip as she inhaled the gas feeling her breathing slow. “You’re going to love my home and hopefully, you can call it yours one day.” He whispered, caressing her cheek as walked further into the ocean, whispering promises of pleasure. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE”S GONE?! SHE WAS IN A COMA AND SHE JUST WOKE UP AND LEFT?!” The council, Dora Milaje, Shuri flinched as Queen Ramonda shouted, demanding answers as she stared at Border Tribe, the so-called protectors. “We didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary, she must’ve snuck out while we’re doing shift changes.” One of the members bowed his head in shame. Shuri was in the corner, trying to figure out where she went. “What about her kimoyo beads?” “She deactivated the video capture and the GPS, wiped it clean before she tossed it in the river.” Ramonda screamed, utterly gut-wrenching as she sank to knees. Losing two children so soon was something she didn’t want to happen, ordering anybody to look for her, because she was not resting until she was home safe and sound.

(Y/N)’s hands ruffled through the linen sheets as she came to, the bed was fit for a king, massive and absolutely comfortable. “Good morning, my beautiful beautiful (Y/N).” Namor stepped in,carrying a plate of food. “I wish I could show you everything, but you would be crushed by the pressure, the deeper we go.” He took a seat at the edge of the bed, smiling softly. Namor dreamt of this day many nights, the sight of his love in his realm, it awakened something deep within him. 

“I appreciate this, K’uk’ulkan, I honestly do, but I feel there’s more to this.” She pushed her empty plate away, watching him carefully. “That's why I'm drawn to you, come with me and I’ll answer any questions you have.” Gently taking her hand, Namor guided her to his mural, knowing it would be worth it to see the wonder in her eyes. “These paintings tell my story, over five hundred years worth of history, some of them also contain my wishes for the future as well.” 

Her fingers touched a depiction of a wedding, surrounded by loyal subjects and generals alike. Her gaze lingered on the bride, she wore traditional clothing, the finest fit for a queen,the red and the orange accentuating the green,blue and gold shades. “I dreamed of you centuries ago, I felt a connection when we first met, you were scared, but I could see the curiosity in your eyes. I don’t want to force you into-” (Y/N) placed her lips on his, silencing effectively. His body seized as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips were softer than he imagined. His hands gravitated towards her waist as he deepened the kiss, her hands cupping his face as she sought his lips out. “K’uk’lkan…” He pulled away, still gripping her hips as he looked into her eyes. “I want this, I want you and everything that comes with it, we can deal with the consequences later.” His smile became wider, kissing her temple. “I wanted to give you this,”He fastened the bracelet around her wrist,”It was my mother’s, it was made of the same plant that gave life to my people.” 

(Y/N) whipped around as the curtain fluttered open, her eyes widened as the blue woman stepped in, holding a bowl. “K’uk’lkan, Táan ts'o'oksik.(it’s ready)” She bowed her head, Namor gave his gratitude as he turned towards (Y/N). “Do you, Princess (Y/N) of Wakanda, accept this gift and my proposal to rule Talokan with me?” She looked between his hopeful eyes and the bowl, knowing she chose him, it would be permanent, there would be no going back. “I do.” His heart raced as she drank from the bowl. “Níib óolal, Namora.” He expressed his gratitude as he held (Y/N), slowly stepping into water as he waited for her rebirth.

“So we’re going to stand here and cry? Someone had to seen something, I’m not going to stand here and twiddle my thumbs, waiting for something to happen.” Okoye snapped as she slammed her spear into the ground. The elders began to bicker among themselves as Ramonda stayed silent. “Queen Ramonda, we’ve had an eyewitness, claiming that she was seen with an unknown man that had wings on ankles and escaped by diving underwater.” 

“You’re saying a fish man took (Y/N) and she didn't even struggle? What are you even saying?” The villager bowed to his knees, trembling in fear. “I’ve seen them multiple times, they seemed like we’re lovers. They would talk for hours until one of the guards came or one of them had to leave, but I did hear them plan for a night where he would sneak into the palace.” That’s when Ramonda glanced over at Shuri as she quickly typed on beads, pulling up surveillance footage. 

It showed (Y/N) guiding a man around the Dora Milaje, stopping periodically as they were afraid of being caught, she smiled as she ushered him into her room, giggling as he kissed her hands. “You’re going to get us in trouble, ko’oj.” M’Baku was flabbergasted as he watched the two lovers interact, it was always known that he had fondness for the adopted princess, his frown only deepened as they watched more footage, signaling that this has been going on for awhile. “This is highly upsetting, not only this man can sneak into Wakanda undetected, but Princess (Y/N) has been assisting him in doing so. This is treason, am I wrong?” That question immediately changed the mood within the chambers, as a mother, Ramonda wanted to see (Y/N)’s side, but she knew as queen that she needed to punish her for even entertaining this. 

“You’re not wrong, but I believe this man is manipulating her, (Y/N) is highly devoted to this country and she would never betray us like this.” Shuri spoke up in fear, looking around the council. “Shuri, Ayo is correct, but Wakanda comes first. By my decree, if Princess (Y/N) is found, she’s to be taken alive and she struggles,then you have permission to kill.”

Namor submerged their bodies as she suddenly awoke, gasping for air as she tried to find the nearest body of water. Breathing underwater as if it was second nature, she looked around before she took off, much to Namor’s delight. “Let me guide you, ko’oj.” She smiled as he interlaced their hands as he took them deeper. The ocean was truly terrifying, but there was a beauty to her as she discovered as her eyes began to adjust. Marine life unbothered by their presence as they swam past. “Is this?-” “Yes, this is Talokan, our home.” He smiled as her mouth fell open as her eyes landed on the underwater country, she couldn’t fathom a country this size hidden beneath the waves. The Talokanil slowly averted their attention to the pair as they made their way through the city, Namor smiling as she swam ahead, her curiosity contagious as she began to zip around.

Namor turned as he felt a tape on his shoulder, smiling as he faced Attuma, one of his trusted advisers.“K’uk’lkan, bienvenido tin wotoch, kin wilik ta taasaj le princesa wéetel.Ma' je'el in criticar u k'alt'aan, ba'ale' con cuidado le ba'ala' u yaantal consecuencias ti' le futuro.” (welcome home, I see you brought the princess with you. I can't be critical of your decision, but carefully, this may have consequences in the future.) Which made Namor roll his eyes, Attuma wanted the same as him; keep Talokan a secret from the surface dwellers, but Attuma never allowed himself to rest and relax. “Centrar k ti' u ma'alob te'ela', Talokan finalmente ti' jump'éel reina, ba'ax u k'áat u ya'al ti' le paalalo'obo' táan ti' le horizonte.Bey disfrutemos ti' in matrimonio tumen jump'éel áak'ab.” (Let's focus on the good here, Talokan finally has a queen, which means children are on the horizon. Let's at least enjoy my marriage for one night.) Attuma only nodded his head as he swam away to begin the marriage celebration. 

“In reina(My queen), let’s get you prepared for the ceremony for tonight, you still need to be fitted for your dress.” Leading her towards his favorite seamstress, (Y/N) looked through the dresses as Namor and the older lady conversed in their language. She rubbed her empty wrist, wishing she had her kimoyo beads with her. The seamstress glanced between the amount of fabric and her measurements, before nodding at Namor. It would be close, but she could make it work. “You’re going to look absolutely beautiful tonight.” She squirmed at his kisses, trying to swim away only to be caught. 

Namor sighed as he noticed the elders swimming towards them. “This is where we spend some time away from each other in preparation, it’s mostly meant for you, but the entire kingdom is getting ready for the wedding, just relax and enjoy being pampered. I’m sure one of the elders either knows wakandan or english, but that’s going to be my first priority, teach you the language.”  He placed a kiss on her cheek before he left.

Namor sighed as he entered the war room, Attuma and Namora with other warriors talking amongst themselves. “Yaan wáaj asuntos importantes u discutir?” (Is there important matters to discuss?) He questioned as he took his seat, Attuma and Namora shared a look before she spoke. “Taak ka'ach in felicitar a tuméen a matrimonio, ba'ale' in tuukultik le futuro.Podríamos yantalto'on formado jump'éel alianza yéetel Wakanda, ba'ale' ti' leti'ob binech in paach.Jach páajtal hayas arruinado jump'éel oportunidad.” (I wanted to congratulate you on your marriage, but I’m worried for the future. We could’ve formed an alliance with Wakanda, but you went around their backs. You may have ruined an opportunity.) “Ba'ax le ba'ala' tu ka'atéen. Ma' habrían aprobado le ba'ala', mantienen ti' le chicas encerradas yéetel puño hierro, ku ts'o'okole' ba'ax podríamos ofrecer. Xan k vibranium, páajtal manejar u bey mismos ti' le amenazas tuméen ts'o'ok u demostrado. Leti' táan destinada tin wiknal yéetel teene' ma' ka'ach u p'atik u jump'éel mortal ku interpusiera ichil leti' yéetel Teene'.” (This again? They wouldn't have approved of this, they keep the girls locked away with an iron fist, plus what could we offer? We both have vibranium, they can handle themselves from threats because they've proven that. She was destined for me and I wasn't going to let a mortal get between me and her.)

Namora narrowed her eyes, she was devoted to her country and her god, but she also knew he was starting to lose focus. “Kexi' a wilik ba'alo'ob tak k perspectiva, ba'ale' k kuxtal yéetel mukul tsikbal u permanecer ti' le anonimato kajnáalilo'ob le superficie Mantats' k'a'abéet u le yáax. Kexi' ka páajtal tokik k wa k'uchul le súutuko', K’uk’klan.” (I hope you'll be able to see things from our perspective, but our existence and the secrecy to remain anonymous from the surface dwellers should always come first. I hope you can defend us if the time comes.)

“Mantats' ts'o'ok in puesto u Talokan táanil utia'al tuláakal, teech ts'o'ok in guiado ichil siglos yéetel le revelador bix a cuestionando in Buka'aj u ba'al utia'al u ch'a' decisiones. Wa ba'al ts'o'oks u yúuchul ti' le futuro cercano, asumiré tuláakal le responsabilidad, ba'ale' tuméen bejla'e' permitir in beel ts'u'ut tuméen juntéene'.” (I've always put Talokan first for everything, I've guided you for centuries and it's telling how you're questioning my ability to make decisions. If something ends up do happening in the near future, I'll take full responsibility, but for now allow me to be selfish for once.) Attuma’s eye twitched from irritation, but he kept his mouth shut as he nodded his head. Namora wanted push this matter further, but with a swift kick in shin from the taller man made her fall quiet. 

(Y/N) sat in silence as she attended to, her nerves growing as they continued on, her locs were tied into neat bun as they placed Dahlias in her hair, a few framed her round face. “Jats'uts, tu yéeyaj ma'alob.” (Pretty, he chose well).” One of the older ladies said as she was fitted into her dress, she practically glowed underneath the bioluminescent algae, the coral orange faded into a burgundy as she twirled, smiling as they grew excited. They quickly fell silent as the same man from earlier entered the room. He only stared into her eyes as he stretched out his hand for her, guess it was time. 

The ceremonial drums began to play once they caught a glimpse of her, the Talokanil began to chant, very reminiscent of weddings in Wakanda.Dancers guided them as they chanted along, carefully watching the princess. “Phola.” (relax) Attuma could feel her nervousness, while he may not agree with the wedding, but he knew she had to be special if he chose her. Namor was adorned with regal attire with his headdress shining in the lights as he waited for her at the end. 

“Táan k reunidos utia'al u celebrar u unión u K’uk’lkan yéetel u xba'al, k ts'o'ok guiado fielmente ti' siglos, wilik k máak prosperar yéetel lolo'ob, ba'ale' Bejla'e' u taak u meentik k'ek'eno'. Cha' u le unión k traiga ya'ab bendiciones ti' venideros ja'ab. (We are gathered to celebrate the union of K’uk’lkan and his bride, he's faithfully guided us for centuries, watching our people thrive and flourish, but now it's his turn to do the same. Allow this union to bring us many blessings in the years to come.) The priest chanted as the Talokanil hollered as Namor fondly looked to her eyes, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. 

“Bejla'e', le presentará u x-ba'al jump'éel siibal meetmaj k'ab, jump'éel signo u lealtad yéetel dedicación ti' leti'. “(Now, the K’uk’lkan will present his bride a handcrafted gift, a sign of his loyalty and dedication to her.) Namor revealed a necklace similar to his, adorned with jade, rubies and pearls, along with vibranium as well with a matching ring, that resonates with vibranium within the necklace and (Y/N) graciously accepted his gift, beaming with pride as he fastened the necklace on. Namora kept a neutral face, but internally she wanted to object to this wedding. She felt her cousin made a decision that will have grave consequences for all involved. 

“Wa máak yaan mix objeción, ba'ax ken tijik u k'aab u matrimonio ka' jo'op' celebramos u unión..”(if no one has any objections, may they consummate their marriage as we celebrate their union.) The cheers of the Talokanil became deafening as Namor eagerly kissed (Y/N), one of his hands gripped the back of her as the other planted firmly on her hips. A whine was trapped in her throat as his tongue flickered across her bottom lip, her cheeks feeling warm at his chuckle, enjoying her shyness. 

Namor wasn’t wasting any more time as he took (Y/N) into his arms and headed towards his cave, whispering filthy promises into her ear, causing her to bury her face in his neck. With water pouches secured tight onto her, Namor guided her towards his bedroom, it was different. “This is the bed that we’re going to be sharing as equals.” He stated as he pulled her closer to him, passionately kissing her as his hands roam underneath her dress, soaking in her presence.

With quick hands, (Y/N) laid bare underneath, attempting to shield herself from his view, Namor sucked his teeth, pinning her arms down as he made his way in between her legs. “Don’t hide from me.” He left kisses across throat, groping her breasts, roughly twisting and pulling at her nipple as she withered underneath him. “I’ve been waiting for this night for months now, let me hear you, princess.” Dark marks bloomed against her rich umber brown skin as he trailed down her body, whining as she blindly grasped at the sheets. “P–Please, it-its too-” 

Namor suddenly rubbed her clit, relishing in her cries as he stimulated her body. “You’re a sensitive little thing, are you?” He teased, snickering as she hid her face. “It’s because I’m a virgin..” He paused for a moment before he manhandled her onto her hands and knees, pulling her pussy into his face as he assaulted her clit. (Y/N) cried out as she buried her face in the pillows, unable to even speak as the pleasure overwhelmed her, pushing her hips back as she sought something. 

“Just like that princess..” He mumbled, slowly pushing his thick finger into her, groaning as she clenched. He rubbed her hips with his free hand,”Relax, deep breathes..” He ignored his aching cock, knowing that he needed to be gentle, but the other part of his brain wanted to breed her until she was unconscious. After a moment, (Y/N) pushed her hips back, he gently flexed his finger, smiling as he extracted whines and moans from her. “Let your god know how good he’s making you feel.” She cried out as he brushed against something, it made her brain melt as she was unable to form words.“You’re going to be a good cockslut, aren’t you?” 

“YES! I’ll be a good cockslut for you!” Namor beamed with pride at the voice crack, gleeful that she was this thoroughly fucked out. He quickly slid his middle finger in, rapidly thrusting in, basking in her moans as she grasped onto the headboard. Her essence coated his goatee as he chased her high, sucking harshly on her clit as she withered on his fingers, crying as she tried to flee from his brutal pace. “No, you’re going to cum on my fingers and then I’m going to fuck you, now I’m not going to tell you again.” 

(Y/N) sobbed as she felt the knot snapping in her stomach, coming on his fingers as stars filled her vision, slumping against the bed. Namor stepped away, licking his lips as he took off his vibranium belt and tossing his shorts to the side. Her eyes snapped open as she felt bed dipped, turning onto her back, her heart started to race as he climbed in between her legs. “Is that supposed to fit inside of me?” He grinned as he jerked his cock, pushing against her entrance. “Breathe and relax for me, princess.” 

Namor’s hunger only grew as he pushed in, she wrapped around him like vice, sucking him and refusing to let go. Her jaw dropped as he pushed in, stretching her in ways that she thought it wasn’t possible. He allowed her to adjust to his sheer size, leaving kisses across her jaw as he held onto her hips before pushing the rest of his cock, panting as he thrusted into her, enjoying her nails rack against his back. The room reeked of sex, creating a daze as the pleasure clouded her senses. 

“Ono, you’re not passing out on me, we’re fucking until I’m tired.” She sobbed as his pace quickened, blindly grasping for his shoulders. Namor groaned as he continued his onslaught, knowing she’s going to have bruises on her hips in the morning. “Fuck, you’re so tight, so wet for your god, huh?” He knew he was going to remember this sight of her completely fucked out with flowers surrounding her. She sobbed as she weaky grasped at his wrist as he rubbed her clit, much to his disappointment. “Take your hand off, this is my pussy, I’m going to fuck it the way I want to.”Namor cursed as he felt his hips falter as she started to squeeze his cock, groaning as he buried his face in her neck, trying to stave off his orgasm. “Cum for me, In Reina, cum for a ajawo'.” He growled in her ear, furiously rubbing her clit. Her nails dug into biceps as she came, her screams echoing in the cave, flopping onto the bed. Namor cursed as he came, painting her walls white as it leaked onto the sheets, he chuckled tiredly before he flipped them over. (Y/N)’s eyes snapped open as Namor gyrated their hips together, he cackled at the look on her face. “I told you, I wasn’t stopping.”

10 months later

Queen Ramonda and Shuri sat among the riverbanks, it’s been one year since King T’Challa’s death, while the Queen burned her grieving robes while Shuri fought it. “I understand, it's hard, but T’Challa isn’t truly gone-” Shuri threw her an irritated look, shaking her head. “No, he’s gone, he’s not in the trees, in the wind, whatever you try to come with. I can’t act like everything’s okay when it’s not! (Y/N)’s gone and you don’t give a shit. T’Challa’s dead and you act it’s business as usual. I just can’t do it!” Queen Ramonda quickly rose to her feet. “Don’t you ever raise your voice at me, I’m still your-”

Ramonda grabbed a spear as a male figure stepped out of the water, pushing his hair back as looked around. “Wakanda is still beautiful, albeit nothing could compare to my home.” He muttered as his eyes fell onto the two women as they glared at him. “Who are you and how did you sneak past the barriers?” Ramonda questioned as she stepped towards him, ready to strike at any moment. “My allies call me K’uk’lkan, but my enemies call me Namor,” He stated as he stared at them ,”Depending on your decision, I can spare you from complete annihilation or along with the surface world, you’ll fall by my hand. Vibranium was found in the Atlantic ocean by the Amercians with a machine that could detect vibranium, but I destroyed it. I need the American scientist dead, because they’re going to go after her and make her build another one. If that were to happen, everyone is at risk, including my people. Your son’s selfish actions have endangered everyone and you owe us, Queen Ramonda. I trust you’ll make the correct choice, if not, be ready to bury your dead.”

[kote-the-inn-keeper]

KKC but every time Kote mentions the Chandrian, Chronicler screams louder.

[tchallasbabymama]

Troubled Waters Chapter Three

Hello, my lovelies, I’m back 🥰 Recovery is going well, so I started working on this chapter a few days ago, and voilà, c’est fini! I hope y’all enjoy the chapter but know I’m still working on some requests so these probably won’t be weekly updates. I’m shooting for every other week with requests in between, but we’ll see how it goes. Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything, and check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots. There’s plenty of content for y’all to enjoy! As always, likes are appreciated, but your comments and reblogs really make my day.😘

Word count: 5,759

Sego watched with concern from across the garden as yawns replaced Nia’s usual morning ballads. After the third yawn stretched over her usually cheery face, he set his magazine down on the metal bistro table and interrupted her daze, “You didn’t sleep well last night?”

“No,” Nia pouted as she turned to face her friend. “I kept waking up every couple of hours and then when I finally got to sleep, I kept hearing a voice talking about ‘the thinning’ over and over. I don’t even know what that means.”

“Sounds ominous. Did you ask Celeste?”

“Of course I did,” she snapped and immediately regretted it. “Sorry, I’m tired.”

“Clearly,” he rolled his eyes and she narrowed hers before spraying him with the water hose. “Hey!”

Nia giggled and went back to her plants as she pondered the message from her dream. Sego picked his fashion magazine back up and flipped through the colorful pages. He wasn’t one for clothing around the house, but when he was in public in his human form, he liked to keep up with the trends.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of them, and minutes passed before an idea came to Nia as she stroked a large monstera leaf. “You know, mama wasn’t much help, but someone else might be.”

Sego set down his magazine again and his face turned serious.

“Plan B?”

“Plan B,” she nodded.

Sego cracked his knuckles and stood up, “I’ll get the drum.”

Nia finished up outside and washed her hands before piling a plate full of the excess sausage and grits she had cooked with Sego in mind. He wasn’t hungry that morning, so it seemed her leftovers weren’t meant for him in the first place. Nia opened the ritual by placing the plate in the center of the altar and lighting her frankincense resin. She wafted the smoke around their bodies and Sego’s drum, opening them to the spirit world as she hummed the unnamed tune that always came to her during rituals. Once Nia set the small clay pot of burning resin back on the altar, they were ready to begin.

The two friends got into position with Sego placing the drum between his legs and rubbing his hand lightly over the head to set his intentions while Nia stood tall with her head and shoulders back as she waited for him to begin. A few moments later, Nia came alive at the first strike of the drum. She let go and allowed herself to get lost in the sacred sounds, stepping in rhythm. Her feet carried her counterclockwise as her upper body snaked forward and back, being pushed and pulled by unseen forces. When her head began to tingle, she fell to her knees, triggering Sego to pick up the pace as she swayed from side to side with her eyes closed and head tilted back. Nia’s ears began to ring with a high-pitched tone that grew louder and louder until her body grew warm and her eyes flew open. She saw a swirling aura above her, and even though she had hoped to contact Bast, she welcomed unknown spirit. She figured it had something important to say since they usually just communicate through the veil. However, this one felt the need to deliver it’s message in person. Nia’s irises turned white as she parted her lips, allowing the being to enter her body. Goosebumps appeared all over her skin as the high of possession took over her, and the spirit settled into her flesh. The room went quiet as Sego carefully observed his friend. She showed no signs of danger, but he held tight to his drum, ready to banish the strange spirit if necessary.

“Who are you?” he asked, and Nia’s head quickly shot to his direction.

“I am Oma,” she spoke in a gravelly voice that unnerved Sego. Despite the chill that went down his spine, he recognized the name as one of Nia’s distant ancestors, and his apprehension waned. However, his curiosity grew as he wondered how she was able to travel to them so easily.

“What do you want?”

“To warn you.”

“Of what?”

“The realms, they are moving.”

“Moving how?”

“Closer. Space between getting smaller and smaller,” she droned.

“What do you mean?”

“The dead will walk among the living, and the humans among your people.”

“But how is that possible?”

“Bast. Her magic weakens.”

Sego’s heart dropped into his stomach.

“Well, how-”

“You cannot stop them. Worlds collide.”

“Who is ‘them’?”

Nia’s head rolled back, and her body began to convulse as the spirit prepared to leave her host.

“No, not yet!” Sego tried to stop her, “Who is doing this!?”

“Be careful. She is precious.”

“Who?!”

Nia’s mouth flew open, and Oma exited her body before disappearing back into the realm of the dead. Sego rushed to his friend and caught her head before it hit the floor, laying it softly on her altar pillow. He grabbed the blanket Nia’s ugogo had woven for her only grandchild and laid it over her shivering body. Confused by what he just witnessed, Sego returned to his drum and closed the ritual with his skilled hands striking the instrument in rhythm. The sound cleared the air, and the vibrations traveled to Nia’s passed-out form, waking her from her state. He played softer as her chest heaved, and she reoriented herself with the world. Nia sat up slowly when her breathing returned to normal, her chilled fingers clinging to the blanket as she looked to her friend. Sego nodded and laid his palms flat on the drum.

“It was...scared,” Nia spoke softly as she ruminated on the spirit’s emotions. “Who was that?”

Sego pointed to the photo of her great-great-great grandma and her sisters. His finger landed just above the shortest one, all the way on the left. Her smile was the brightest of all her sisters, and her wings the biggest.

“Oma?” Nia asked through her brain fog as she tried to piece together what had just happened. As usual, she could only remember how the spirit felt in her body. This one felt anxious and in a hurry. “She’s never spoken to me before. What did she want?”

She attempted to stand, but Sego picked her up and carried her to her bed.

“I will tell you later. Right now, you need to rest.”

Before she could even protest, Nia’s body betrayed her, and she fell into a deep slumber. She slept the day away and woke up to fragrant smells wafting from the kitchen. Sego knew she would need to refuel after what she had just experienced, so he had prepared a hearty dinner to build her strength back up. Nia dragged herself into the kitchen right as he scooped the stewed meat and vegetables over a large bowl of rice. No words were spoken as she slid into the chair and dug into her food as though she hadn’t eaten in days. Sego took a seat on the other side of the table and waited for her to finish. It didn’t take long at all, and when Nia’s body finally felt full, she leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath.

“So, what did she say?”

Sego’s face contorted into a grimace as he spoke, “She, uh...she said the human realm and the realm of the dead are moving closer to ours.”

Confusion clouded Nia’s face as she tried to wrap her mind around Sego’s words.

“But how? Bast-”

“Is weak. Oma didn’t say how or why, but her magic is failing.”

Nia’s breath caught in her throat, and she looked down at her hands, testing her powers and making them glow a vibrant purple.

“I don’t feel any different, though.”

“Maybe because your magic was gifted to you, she doesn’t have to maintain it like the veils?”

“I didn’t think they required upkeep.”

“I didn’t either, but they’re thinning somehow.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Nia thought about Oma’s message before another question entered her mind.

“Why her?”

“She didn’t say,” Sego shrugged, “but she said to be careful and that ‘she is precious.’”

“Who?”

He shrugged again, and Nia stood from the table with conviction, “We should go see my dad. Maybe he’ll know more about her.”

“It’s worth a shot,” he lisped as his forked tongue flickered out and his body melted to the floor. His spotted skin turned to brown and black scales as his arms absorbed into his torso. Nia left to grab her bag, and she returned as his legs melded together. Sego slithered up her body and draped himself over her shoulders. When he got settled, Nia closed her eyes and felt the atmosphere thicken as she transported them to the magic realm. It was much easier than it was the last time she visited over a week ago. Usually, traveling through the veil felt like swimming through water, but it felt more like walking through a downpour this time.

“Did you feel that?” she asked Sego, and he nodded lazily.

Nia walked out her front door and warded it up tight before turning around and facing her other world. She smiled at the vibrant blue sky and breathed in the fragrant floral air before taking the first step into the magical realm. Her stomach twisted with anxiety as Sego’s words echoed through her head, but she was quickly pulled from her trance when a little voice called out on her right.

“Sawubona, Nia!” Adana waved excitedly, and Nia couldn’t help but grin at her young neighbor as she played with her doll on her front porch.

“Sawubona, Adana. How are you feeling today?” she asked as the girl glided over and hugged her waist. Sego slid down Nia’s shoulder a little, and his tongue tickled Adana’s cheeks, making her giggle.

“Good!” she said proudly as her wings flapped behind her.

“Let’s keep it that way,” Nia chuckled as she booped the little girl on her round nose. “I see you’ve been practicing flying.”

“Mhm. Umama said I’m not allowed to fly higher than this yet,” Adana said as she motioned to the few inches between her feet and the ground.

“That’s probably best. You remember what happened last time.”

Adana nodded, thinking back to when her mother had to carry her to Nia’s late one night with a broken wing.

“Umama says she’s gonna teach me how to go higher when I get bigger, and-”

“Adana, dinner!” Zita called from her kitchen, and the little aziza’s wings fluttered even faster at the thought of whatever her mother had prepared for her. Everyone in the neighborhood knew Zita was a fantastic cook, and despite having just eaten, Nia’s stomach grumbled at the thought of another meal. Especially one prepared by Zita.

“Tell her ‘hi’ for me,” Nia called out as Adana quickly waved goodbye and flew indoors. Sego shook his head fondly at the little girl as the door closed behind her, and Nia was thankful for the brief interaction calming her nerves.

As a known healer to all, Nia was very popular among the residents of Birnin Umlingo, the Magic City. She returned waves and short greetings as she made her way to her father’s place, which wasn’t too far from her own. When Nia and Sego arrived at the baobab tree Amare had fashioned into a cozy home for himself, she found him lounging on a limb with a book in his hand. Amare looked up from the page when he felt someone near, and joy spread across his face at seeing his greatest creation. Both of them started to glow faintly as they laid eyes on each other, and his large orange wings spread out as he flew down from his resting spot. Amare enveloped Nia and Sego in a warm hug and kissed her cheek before rubbing the python’s head.

“What are you doing here?”

“What? I can’t come visit my old man?”

“Who are you calling old?” he playfully scolded her as he held the intricately carved door open for her to come inside. She looked around at all the human gadgets that filled his home and smiled warmly at his treasures. Nia had always loved his collection, but the books and records were her favorite. Sometimes, they were all she had during the lonely days of her childhood.

“Oh, nobody,” she played coy as she removed Sego from her shoulders and set him on the ground. “How are you, ubaba?”

“I can’t complain, especially today,” he winked.

“Because your favorite daughter is here?”

“Of course! And I have a date in an hour.”

“A date?!”

“Yes, he’s taking me to a restaurant opening in the town square.”

“Sounds fancy. Who is this mystery man?”

“I’m sure you’ll still be here when he arrives. You can meet him then,” Amare said excitedly before another thought crossed his mind. “Oh, and I forgot to tell you! I popped over to the human realm and got these.”

He held out his arm, and Nia marveled at his brand new kimoyo beads, “Ooooh, those are nice.”

“Aren’t they? Top of the line,” he bragged as he examined the new bracelet that he had almost no use for in the magic realm. “Enough about me, though. Is something up? You never drop by unannounced.”

Nia sighed and plopped down in her favorite high-backed leather chair.

“Something’s wrong, ubaba.”

Amare’s eyebrows furrowed, and his wings sank a little as he sat across from his daughter.

“What is it?”

Nia explained her dream and the ritual to him and watched as his face contorted in confusion and disbelief.

“-and then she was gone.”

Amare leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his face.

“Oma, huh?” he asked, and Nia nodded. “She was a powerful medium when she was alive. I guess if she can communicate with the dead from this realm, then she can easily communicate with the living from the realm of the dead.”

Nia nodded and continued, “I was trying to reach Bast when she cut in.”

“Hm...maybe she didn’t ‘cut in.’ If Bast’s magic is failing, she might not be able to hear you wherever she is.”

“Maybe you should ask T’Challa,” Sego quipped from the other side of the room as he changed back into his human form. Nia shot him a look to be quiet, and he smirked.

“The king?”

Nia sighed, “Yeah, I forgot to tell you I saw him again.”

“Sure, ‘forgot’ to tell him,” the shapeshifter mumbled.

“Sego!”

He put his hands up in defense, “Ok, I’m done.”

“So what happened this time? Did he recognize you? I hope you gave him a piece of your mind. King or no king, nobody hurts my baby and-”

“Ubaba.”

“What? I’m just saying. So what happened?”

“A bad man tried to hurt me, but before I could do anything, he showed up. He insisted on cleaning my wounds, so I let him, and…”

“And?”

“And he saw Zita and Adana, so I had to tell him about us.”

“You what?!”

“He had questions! What was I supposed to do?”

Amare sighed. “Ok, well, what did he say?”

“He was shocked, but I think he responded well. He didn’t treat me like a freak or anything.”

“That’s good. He seems like a decent, level-headed man.”

“I don’t think he’ll tell anyone. He was-” Nia was cut off by a ringing in her head as the protective wards around her home warned her of a visitor. She could tell by the low pitch that they were coming from the human realm. “I have to go, ubaba. Someone’s at my door.”

Amare and Nia stood while Sego sank back down into his python form and slithered over. The father and daughter hugged each other tightly and said their goodbyes before Nia and Sego were out the door and on their way home.

--------

Earlier that same day, T’Challa sat on his throne and halfway listened as the council argued over trade agreements between the tribes. His attention waned somewhere between the third and fourth attempt to compromise, and his mind wandered to the conversation he had with Nia almost a month ago. He hadn’t been able to get her off his mind lately. Not just her, but what he learned that night, too. He could barely wrap his mind around magical species existing in the first place, much less within his borders.

He was jolted back into the present by a nudge on his left arm and frowned at his cousin.

“What?” he whispered under his breath, knowing N’Jadaka could hear him. The prince also had the heart-shaped herb pumping through his veins from his coup attempt a year ago, so his senses were just as enhanced as T’Challa’s.

“Quit daydreaming,” he responded, equally as low so as not to give their conversation away to prying ears.

T’Challa fought an eye roll and straightened up in his throne.

“Let’s table this discussion for next week,” he cut the conversation short. “Now, is there anything else on the agenda for today?”

“No, my king, but I have one more thing I’d like to bring up,” said the Merchant tribe elder tentatively.

T’Challa nodded for her to continue.

“There have been some strange happenings among my people,” she began. “Just yesterday, a woman wandered into the market yelling about creatures nobody had ever seen before, then she collapsed and started seizing.”

“You’re concerned about a psychotic or epileptic episode?”

“It’s not so much the episode as what came after, your highness.”

“Ok…”

“She died before the doctor could get to her...and then she disappeared before the coroner could examine her body.”

“What do you mean ‘disappeared’?” T’Challa’s eyebrows furrowed as he leaned in closer.

“The men who transported the body were found knocked out cold...and when they woke up, she was gone.”

“Sounds like there’s a sick motherfucker around here somewhere,” N’Jadaka muttered with his signature scowl on his face. “Bodies don’t just disappear for no reason.”

The king ignored his cousin and focused on the Merchant elder. “You said she mentioned strange creatures?”

“Yes, my king. She looked deranged, and she spoke of creatures with dripping claws and visible skulls...She seemed terrified.”

T’Challa leaned back in his throne, and his mind wandered to Nia again, but this time with purpose. That didn’t sound like any creature he had ever heard of before, but he wondered if she had. His thoughts were interrupted by the Mining tribe elder.

“Also, if I may?”

T’Challa motioned for her to continue.

“There have been multiple sightings of abnormally large hyenas around our province.”

“There were some sniffing around the entrance to the lab this morning, but the Dora scared them off,” Princess Shuri added. “They didn’t look like any hyena I’ve ever seen. They were huge!”

M’Baku’s breathing faltered for a moment; he had heard of creatures like that before. When he met Nia a year prior, he began to worry about the existence of other, more dangerous magical species, and now his fears seemed to be coming true. He couldn’t just come out and say it, though, especially since several of the council members already considered the Jabari to be a backward people. He didn’t need “superstitious” added to the list of reasons not to like them. However, he felt that T’Challa might be a little more open to what he had to say. M’Baku decided a private audience with the king would probably be best.

“Hm...has anyone else noticed anything strange or unusual?” T’Challa asked the room, and two more hands went up. He nodded to the Border tribe elder, and the older man cleared his throat before speaking.

“We took a man into custody yesterday for killing his wife. He claimed she was alive when he left for work, but when he came home, all that was left was her bones. Of course, he’s claiming innocence, but the neighbors say they didn’t see her at all that day, which was unusual. But, um, we’re not sure how he was able to remove the flesh so easily. There looked to be bite marks.”

T’Challa looked to his little sister, who had a horrified look on her face, and grabbed her hand in his. He turned to his other side and saw N’Jadaka’s face scrunched up in disgust.

“What the fuck kind of sick shit y’all got going on over here?” he mumbled so only the king could hear.

“I’m not sure,” he whispered back. The king turned back to the council and gestured at the River tribe elder. “And you?”

“Sightings of strange fish in the river, your highness. Human-sized, much larger than what we are used to.”

T’Challa’s eyes shifted to his right and he noticed the Jabari chief’s nervousness, despite his best efforts to mask his feelings.

“Anything else?” T’Challa asked the council, and they all shook their heads. “N’Jadaka and I will investigate these claims further and have a report for next week. Meeting adjourned.”

The council members saluted him and took their leave—all except one.

“My king, may I have a word privately?”

T’Challa looked at M’Baku knowingly and motioned for the chief to follow him. The two of them, along with the prince and princess, retired to T’Challa’s office to continue their conversation.

“What can I do for you, my friend?” the king asked as everyone filed into the room. Shuri sat by the window and looked out at the country nervously, obviously spooked by what she just heard. N’Jadaka plopped down next to her and tried to seem unbothered, but he couldn’t stop fidgeting with his lucky knife, repeatedly flicking it open and closed in his left hand. M’Baku sat across from T’Challa at his desk, and his leg began to bounce involuntarily as he waited for the king to sit down.

M’Baku cleared his throat anxiously before he began, “We Jabari have many...beliefs that the rest of Wakanda seems to have let fall by the wayside. I only bring this up because of what I’ve seen with my own two eyes, but I believe the elders’ reports. Call me superstitious, but there are forces out there that you would not believe. Even I haven’t seen everything, but there is someone who might know what to do-”

“You’re saying you believe the crazy lady?” N’Jadaka scoffed.

“I do not believe she is ‘crazy’. I believe she saw something none of us could ever imagine.”

“Ok, and her body?” The prince challenged him as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I do not know...but I know who might.”

“Who?” Shuri chimed in as she tore her eyes from the scenery.

“She lives with the Border tribe. Her name is Nia-”

“Olu?” T’Challa’s eyes lit up in recognition, and M’Baku couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You know her?!”

“She was the woman who was almost abducted a month ago. How do you know her?” the king asked curiously.

M’Baku wasn’t sure how much he could say without outing her as a non-human.

“She wandered into our territory once when we were still separate from the rest of you. She was very...odd,” M’Baku looked to the king, who seemed to understand his meaning. He wondered just how much he knew of her identity. “She might be able to help.”

“Odd how?” the prince interjected.

“It’s hard to explain,” the king brushed him off to avoid further prying, making M’Baku nod along. The chief still couldn’t tell how much T’Challa knew, but he kept his mouth shut nonetheless. “I will go talk to her.”

Shuri and N’Jadaka shared a look. They both felt like they were purposely being left in the dark, and neither appreciated it.

--------

Nia snuck back into her home in the magic realm and quickly threw on a headwrap before taking a deep breath and opening her door to the human realm. Her stomach twisted up again as she laid her eyes on the king and his guards standing on her doorstep.

“T’Challa, hey,” she greeted him nervously as she leaned against the doorframe with Sego still draped over her shoulders. Nia noticed the two fierce-looking women on either side of him look at her questioningly for her informality, but they said nothing.

“Hello, Nia,” he smiled before noticing Sego. “How are you today?”

“I’m alright. I, uh, actually just got back in from visiting my ubaba.”

“With that?” T’Challa motioned to Sego, and the python stuck out his tongue.

“Sego? Yeah, he likes to get out sometimes,” she said as she stroked her companion’s head. Nia backed up a little and opened the door wider for him, “Anyways, come on in.”

The king ordered the two guards to stay on the front porch, and they stood at attention, looking out at the village. Several of Nia’s neighbors had noticed their arrival and were trying their best to seem inconspicuous as they spied on her to see what was going on. It wasn’t often that the king came around, so the rumor mill started turning almost immediately.

Once T’Challa stepped into the familiar home, keeping a wide berth from Sego, Nia closed and locked the door behind him. They made their way over to the kitchen, and the king sat down in the same hand-carved chair he sat in the last time he was there.

“Can I get you anything?” Nia offered politely as she made her way over to the stovetop and started warming up a kettle she had filled up the night before. “I made a tea blend that helps calm the mind. I’m about to have some myself if you want in.”

“Sure, I’ll take a cup,” he responded with a smile. He watched her scoop the prepared herbs out of a jar and into two reusable cotton tea bags and place one each at the bottom of a mug. She worked in silence as she tried to calm the anxious feeling that had crept back into her bones after leaving Amare’s. Sego could feel her shaking and squeezed her just a little bit to get her to calm down. She relaxed at his hug and poured the hot water into the mugs before carrying them back over to the table. Nia sat down across from T’Challa and blew on her hot tea before taking a small sip. He did the same and smiled at the flavor. “This is delicious, Nia.”

“Thanks,” she gave a small smile back as her stomach fluttered at his compliment. “So...what brings you here?”

The king sighed and leaned back in his chair, watching intently as Sego slithered down from his perch and curled up in the corner. “There have been some strange activities around the kingdom, and I was wondering if you might know anything about it.”

“Strange how?” Nia’s head cocked to the side, and she placed her elbows on the table as she leaned in closer.

“First, there was a woman who was found dead in her home. Her neighbors saw her the day before, and her husband claims she was alive when he left for work, but all that was left was her bones,” he spoke carefully and observed as fearful recognition clouded her face. Nia couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but she easily put two and two together. The thinning had begun.

“W-what else?” she asked as she leaned in even closer.

“Another woman’s dead body disappeared. She wandered into the market screaming about horrifying creatures, then she seized and collapsed...but her body never made it to the coroner,” he paused to make sure she was still with him. She motioned for him to continue, and he spoke again, “There have also been reports of abnormally large hyenas and fish, but that is less concerning than the other two.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Nia mumbled as she got up and hurried to the bookshelf. She pulled out a large leather-bound book and opened it to a page near the middle before flipping a few pages forward. When she landed on what she was looking for, she set the heavy book down in front of the king. His eyes traveled to the page and widened in fright at the image of a childlike being with a mouth as wide as its face and sharp teeth on display.

“W-what is this?”

“Eloko,” Nia answered as she sat back down. “Long ago, our queen banished them to their own part of the forest. They’re harmless if you ignore them, but if you take pity on them and let them into your home...they’ll eat your flesh in minutes.”

T’Challa scanned the page, taking in every horrifying detail he could as he attempted to calm his heart rate. Not many things frightened the unshakable king, but he was completely out of his element. His mouth went dry as he attempted to speak, “And the other woman?”

“I’m not sure, but…”

He tore his eyes from the book and looked up at her. “But what?”

“I don’t want to jump to conclusions because it’s not a common occurrence, but when bodies disappear like that, there’s usually dark magic involved.”

“Dark magic?”

“Yeah...like I said, it’s not common, but over the years, there have been a few aziza who use their gifts in ways the rest of us do not approve of.”

“Like…?”

“Like creating zombi.”

“Those are real?”

“Very,” Nia shuddered and downed her tea. T’Challa’s eyes fell back to her book, and he began flipping through the well-worn pages. It felt old like it had been passed down for generations, and he surmised it probably belonged to her family for decades, centuries even. He flipped towards the front of the book, landing on the page about aziza. He couldn’t help but smile at the much more welcoming illustration. T’Challa got lost in the description as Nia stood and went to wash out her mug, needing something to do with her hands to calm her mind. He finished reading and looked up to ask her a question, but it slipped his mind when he noticed strange markings on her back in the shape of wings. He started to ask her about the scars when he realized he had seen them once before.

“It was you…”

“What was?” she asked without turning around, scrubbing her mug unnecessarily hard. Nia heard him stand and walk closer, but kept her focus on her task.

He removed the mug from her hand and rinsed it out. Before she could protest, he spoke softly, “I said they looked like wings.”

Nia stilled as she remembered her tube top left her back exposed.

“Yeah…I remember,” she murmured without looking up at him despite their closeness.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “I just didn’t think it was important.”

T’Challa smiled, “Of course it’s important! I never forgot that day…now I know how you appeared out of nowhere.”

“Heh, yeah,” Nia responded as she pushed past him to grab her tea kettle. She filled it up again, but still wouldn’t make eye contact. T’Challa looked at her, confused by her change in attitude when it clicked for him...

“You know, I wanted to see you again-“

“Then why didn’t you come back?” She snapped and he realized why she didn’t seem to like him that much.

“I did. My baba took me on a trip with him that night. We were gone for two weeks, but I came back looking for you.”

Nia paused again before setting the kettle back on the stove. She turned to face him, and he could see the confusion all over her face.

“You did?” She asked apprehensively, and he nodded in response. “I went back every day for a week before ubaba made me stop. He didn’t like seeing me so sad.”

T’Challa’s face fell and he took a step forward, “Nia, I-“

“No, it’s fine.” Nia moved away from him and his heart sank as he watched her go over to her herb pantry. She rummaged around for a while before she came back with yet another tea blend.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she began to change the subject, “have you spoken to Bast recently?”

T’Challa didn’t want to upset her more by pushing the conversation, so he went along with her train of thought.

“Uh, no. It’s been a while. Why?” he asked as he leaned against the counter, eyes tracking her as she moved to sit back at the table. Nia noticed he had been reading about aziza and smiled internally.

“The veil is thinning. That’s how the eloko got through…and who knows what else.”

“The veil?”

“Yeah, it’s like the border between realms.”

“How is that possible?”

Nia shrugged, “Only Bast knows.”

“And she’s not answering you,” he mused as he sat next to her. She wanted to move away, but forced herself to stay still.

“Nope. I tried this morning, but one of my ancestors came through and told us about the veil.”

“Us?”

“Me and Sego.”

“The snake?”

“Python,” Nia chuckled and shot Sego a look to warn him to behave.

“My apologies. So what did they say?”

“The realms of the living and dead, and the human and magical realms are colliding…they might overlap soon. That and ‘she is precious.’”

“Who is?”

Nia shrugged, “Bast, I guess.”

“But you think she’s disappeared…” T’Challa thought aloud.

“Yebo. I don’t know what can make a god disappear, though. Another god maybe?”

T’Challa’s mind wandered to his Avengers colleague, Thor, but he had no way to contact the god while he was off-planet.

“Perhaps.”

“I could try contacting some.”

T’Challa nodded as the wheels turned in his mind. “There are smaller cults around the country that worship other gods. We might be able to-“

“We?”

“Well, yes, I was hoping you would come with me. I’ll need someone with your expertise. I know nothing about all this, but you do…I need your help.”

“I don’t know, I-“

“Please, Nia,” he begged as he grabbed her hand in his. The silence was thick as they looked at each other, but neither was able to look away. “I need you.”

Nia stopped breathing for a moment as he trapped her in his puppy dog eyes. She wanted to say no, she really did…but she just couldn’t.

“Ok, I’ll do it.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback, @dersha89, @impremenior, @ljstraightnochaser, @love—life—passion, @yourstrulybrii

[red-riot-rat]

Masumi

ＲＥＱＵＥＳＴ：Hello there! May I request a scenario where Class1-A has to babysit Aizawa's 5 yr old child (the reader) and Eri while Aizawa is on a mission, and the reader's personality is basically a copy of Aizawa's, has Aizawa's quirk + they are Eri's bast friend? Srry if this is a weird/long ask!

HEY HEY! This isnt a weird ask at all! I love this idea!! ALSO in this you can see why i greet every anon like this, or start everything with HEY HEY! jknvsdkjc

Ｇｅｎｒｅ：Fluff, pure chaos

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: chaos, cursing (thank you bakugou), a little bit of family past which is sad...

AN: Readers name is Masumi, which the meaning will be explained later on. Also Eri,,, might be OOC?? My apologies bhvksdc but this was so fucking fun to write.

𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘱 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙 : Sat. 3:23 AM

𝘞𝘊: 1590

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“HEY HEY MY FAVORITE LISTENERS!” PresentMics voice echoed through the 1A classroom and everyone could have sworn they felt the room vibrate. 

“Your dear grump teacher is out on a mission, but he’ll be back soon! SO here, the children are now yours to deal with!” PresentMic ushered two children into the room, one being Eri and the other being one who only a few knew as Aizawa- sensei’s child. PresentMic waved again and ran out the door as Iida stood up in protest.

“Sensei! You can't-” he sputtered, but the loud man was already gone. Very far gone. 

The two children slowly walked to the front, and spun around facing everyone, scanning through the rows of faces. Eri recognized a few people and smiled at them and waved. The other child looked very much like their father with black hair with your bangs tucked behind your ears, black half-lidded eyes, and quite frankly dressed in all black, did nothing but stare with a blank face.

Eri leaned forward and smiled at you, waving slightly and waited for you to wave back. You turned your head to face her, and waved slightly. Eri was satisfied with that.

She skipped her way over to Midoriya, a few other students got up and followed her and formed a group around the green haired boy. You stood at the front of the room, searching and scanning for leftover faces. Iida looked around frantically for about a minute, before deciding that 1A had been left with two children and sitting back down, exasperated.

Some girls in the back were left in their seats, including Jirou, Tsuyu, Yaomomo, and Mina. They gathered near the front near a few of the boys who stayed as well, Denki, Iida, Sero, Kirishima and Bakugou.

Bakugou made his way over to the others so he wouldn't get bombarded by Midoriya and the others.

“Tsk. We’re heroes, not damn babysitters.” he grumbled sitting on Kirishima’s desk, crossing his arms. Kirishima eyed him, and punched him softly in the arm. “Hey there kids dude. Not manly.” Kirishima hardened his side after he saw the blonde's reaction to his little punch.

“Don’t touch me shitty hair!” he shouted, as a few others rolled their eyes, and talked with anyone other than him.

“I agree with him, Bakugou. You must rid yourself of foul language while there are children near!” Iida exclaimed, chopping the air in front of him. The girls nodded around him, everyone unaware of your eyes wandering around the group. Bakugou let explosions release from his hands, dangerously close to Kirishima’s face. 

Occasionally your eyes flipped from the loud blondes group, to Eri’s smiley and laughing group. You did nothing but stand there, you were quite bored. 

“SHUT UP FOUR EYES!” His explosions grew louder as he yelled, a few people from Eri’s group turned their heads, and rolled their eyes.

Eri’s laugh caught her group's attention and their eyes followed her outstretched arm, and her pointed finger. Their eyes finally rested upon you.

Bakugou’s quirk died instantly, but he kept yelling. Jirou pointed to you, almost everyone's eyes landed on you, but Bakugou.

Soon enough, their eyes grew in wonder as your quirk activated.

Your hair rose, your half lidded eyes glew a bright blinding red, and yet you said nothing. You only stared at the blonde as his yelling came to a halt.

“You're really annoying mister.” you stated blandly. Uraraka snickered, and Midoriya began to visibly sweat. 

“DAMN NERD!” Bakugou yelled, his hands in position with no explosions, he wasn’t that scary to you. He was like that loud kid in dad's stories, the loud blonde one. But not Hizashi, he was always the jester or something.

“Hey, kid I-” Denki began to stammer. “My name is Masumi.” You stated again, this time with a slight frown. Eri laughed as she skipped over away from the group she had been in, over to you. You blinked, and Katsuki’s quirk returned violently creating blasts left and right. Eri stood in front of you, jumping up and down.

“Cool move! Cool move!” She smiled widely, and raised her hand for a high five. Midoriya stood in his seat, along with Ochako. No more laughing or snickering, but genuine terror. You activated your quirk again, and high fived her.

Everyone relaxed at the sight of your quirk again, and Midoriya sat down slowly, hastily grabbing for his notebook.

Iida raced over to you, his engines revving. You turned your head quickly to see him, and his engines died down quick. He gasped, and honestly completely forgot you were Aizawa's child, but then soon got back onto his original action.

“Masumi, you must be careful! That is very dangerou-” 

You blinked at him, and crossed your arms.

“I know. She's my best friend, mister. You're being a poopy head.” You stuck your tongue out at the tall male, and sat down. Laughs echoed through the room, while the words poopy head echoed through Iidas mind.

“Wait, Masumi! He's nice!” Eri giggled, as she said in front of you. You were definitely Aizawa’s kid.

You pouted again at Eri, who was a bundle of joy. You sighed dramatically, and rolled onto the floor.

“Okay.” 

Everyone was silent, except Eri’s ongoing giggling.

“okAY?” bakugou yelled, obviously confused.

“Kid who the fUCK do YOU THINK YOU ARE?” Kirishima shot him a warning glace and started to whisper the same lecture Iida gave him but something made his breath catch in his throat.

“Fuck.” you repeated after the blonde. Midoriya, Iida Uraraka and many others gasped. 

“Fuck.” Eri repeated after you, sitting next to you stretching her arms to touch her toes.

“Mhm. Fuck.” You nodded and sat up again, facing the horrified class. You smiled at them, made them shiver to the core. You sitting besides Eri, her adorable smile sending rays of light, even into Tokoyami’s heart, while you smiled besides her

Exactly like your father.

“What the hell.” Denki whispered to himself, everyone stared at you.

“Masumi uhm. I-” Yaomomo stuttered, eager to change the subject of attention to anything else. Anything but a copy of Aizawa-senseis terrifying smile plastered onto this cute little kid.

“Do you like your name?” Shoto asked, sensing Momo and her need to stop staring at this kid's smile. Uraraka and a few others nodded along with Todoroki’s questioning, grateful. 

You shrugged.

“I donno, my moms not here anymore so dad renamed me.”

Your name made more sense now. Masumi, meaning a sense of true clarity. You were Aizawa's true reason for clarity, cute.

Cue, Aizawa’s appearance. He had no bandages, no sign of a mission, just his normal disheveled self.

“Aizawa-sensei! PresentMic left them here with us, and-” Iida half-shouted, but Aizawa’s wave of his hand stopped him. He squatted down, and greeted you and Eri. 

“Zawa!” Eri sings, as she jumps up to see him.

“Hi Eri. How was today?” He asked kindly, his change of voice comforting to the children.

“Fun! Mina’s hair is fluffy, and so is Toko-yami’s!” She jumped around, while you rolled onto your stomach your hands and feet stretched out. You yawned as you plopped back into your sitting position. 

“Hi dad. He's loud.” Aizawa knew of only a few loud people, only two of which you had seen today. He chuckled as he asked you,

“Which one kiddo?” 

A few students around the class chuckled, and turned their heads slightly towards Bakugou as you pointed at him.

“Mister. I also called someone a poopy head.” You smiled softly as he smiled back at you, and rubbed the top of your head.

“As you should kid.” He stood up and looked to his students, scanning their faces and seeing a tinge of worry struck across almost all the faces he saw.

“What did you learn, Masumi?” he asked, staring daggers into any eyes that met him.

Everyone stood in their seats, except Bakugou who was visibly sweating.

“Learn? Words?” you asked, you hadn't learned much that day but a few memorable things.

“Yeah kiddo.” He eyed the class, unsure as he turned and squatted in front of you again.

“Fuck.” You said looking up at him.

Everything when dead silent.

Dead silent. 

No breathing, no nothing.

He stood back up, slowly turning to his class. His eyes glowed red, his hair starting to float. You gasped and activated your quirk to match him. You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your black pants, and faced the class as Eri sat peacefully besides you.

“Anyone would like to explain this new word?”

You nodded alongside him, but got bored with the act quick. You threw your hands up in exasperation and flopped back down next to Eri, where you both blabbered to each other. 

“Anyone?”

[mrsbhandari]

Artsy As Fuck - Screwdriver

Author’s note: HIIIII I def didn’t expect this to happen but here we are

Word count: 1527

Warnings: language, HEAVY SMUT, name calling, hate sex, the usual

Summary: Colt and Roze overcome some of their differences...kind of.  

Tag list (which im very excited about as I’ve never had one!! Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed :))

@omgjasminesimone, @edgiestwinter, @bucketofsoup, @donutsgirl36, @desireepow-1986, @lovehugsandcandy, @troublemakerinspace, @client-327

Masterlist

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Colt’s next call from the professor came a few days after his ‘date’ with Roze. They had barely texted in the time they’d been apart, which was fine by him. He thought she was pretty, but annoying in how headstrong she was. He was trying to help her and what does he get? Albeit, he was mostly doing it for selfish reasons.

Everyone in the world is selfish. I’m not a bad guy. He shook his head. No use thinking about it now. He was fiddling with his bike, trying anything to make it go impossibly faster, when he heard his coworker Logan speaking with someone near the entrance to the garage. Just the sound of his voice set Colt’s nerves alight, but after seeing Roze talking to him with a flirty smile tugging at her lips, he swore his sight went red for a second.

“‘Scuse me, pretty boy,” Colt interrupted, throwing his screwdriver aside and wiping his hands off on a clear spot on his overalls that were folded over on his body, revealing his sweaty tank top and a little bit of his boxers. Roze’s eyes raked over him, but she didn’t seem impressed. 

“Buzz off, Colt, I’m with a very important customer,” Logan shot back, sending a cheesy wink in Roze’s direction.

“Don’t worry about censoring yourself around her; Roze swears like a sailor.” If Logan was upset about Colt already knowing about Roze, he didn’t show it. “What are you doing here?” Colt turned his attention to her.

“Going to class. You’re modeling, remember? We’re doing dynamic positions with clothing today.” He hated to admit it, but the way her eyes lit up when she spoke of art made his heart flutter. 

“You’re cute and an artist? Wow,” Logan piped up, prompting a scoff from Colt as Roze smiled at his coworker again. 

“Roze, come with me. I need to make sure Mr. Smooth here keeps his greasy mitts off you.” He didn’t wait for a response before turning on his heel and walking down the hallway to his room, expecting Roze to follow. She reluctantly did, but complained when they got to the room together and shut the door. 

“What’s wrong with Logan?”

“He fucks anything with a pulse.”

“Your point?” Roze gave him a playful glare when he stammered and snapped his head to look at her laying casually on his bed. 

“I--I have to take a shower. Think you can keep it in your pants that long, or should I get Logan in here?” She laughed, sending another shock to his heart when he stepped into his small bathroom connected to his room. He kept the door cracked. “Weren’t you the one who was the most blushy when you saw me naked?”

“It wasn’t because you were naked, it was because you were hot.” Roze could feel the snark about to exit his mouth, so she quickly shut him down. “Then I heard you speak and changed my mind.”

“Oh, please, admit it: you think I’m sexy.” Colt’s voice carried over the steady stream of water from the shower. She didn’t respond, electing to take in her surroundings instead. His room was dark and macho, sparsely decorated besides the few posters tacked to the wall behind her. She recognized her own drawing of him from when he fixed her car and she stupidly ruined her chances with him when she was so nervous and everything that came out of her mouth was unintentionally hostile. She looked closer and realized that he had also pinned the gum wrapper she gave him and the receipt from the diner on the white space around her original picture. 

Is he just sentimental? She thought, confused as to why he would keep so much in their limited time together. This isn’t going to last forever. Is he just trying to be convincing? Just in case? 

The water turned off and Colt entered the room a few seconds later, naked except for the towel slung low on his hips, revealing a deep v-line and rippling muscles. Her eyes traced the dark path of hair under his navel until it disappeared under the fabric. “Why did you come so early? Class isn’t for another hour.”

“This was our first time doing the whole ‘arrive together’ thing, so I wanted to give us enough time.”

“You scoff when I call you uptight, and then you do something that proves my point.”

“Shut up.” She said it with no malice, looking instead at his exposed body that was sending heat directly to her core. He was annoying as hell but God, was he hot. He noticed her staring, the hard gaze making his dick twitch under the towel. 

“See something you like?” he teased, feet pattering over to her on the bed before he could convince himself not to. She stiffened on his blanket, waiting for him to do something. When he made it clear that the ball was in her court, she sighed, eye level with where his towel was hiding his hard-on. 

“Not really.” She tried to feign apathy, but couldn’t stop her breath from catching when Colt dropped his towel, exposing himself completely to her. He took a handful of her long hair and pulled her head back so that she was looking at his face with her neck exposed. He grew impossibly harder at the low moan she let out from the rough treatment. 

“Wanna try again?” 

Her breathing and heart rate quickened as she looked back down at his dick in front of her with half-open eyes, taking it in her hand and wrapping her lips around his shaft without a second thought, prompting a loud groan from Colt, whose hand was still tangled in her hair. He set a brutal pace, gasping when his tip hit the back of her throat and brought tears to her eyes. 

“You don’t like what you see? Well, how about what you taste, slut?” he said, pulling her off him and leaning down to give her a bruising kiss. He originally aimed for her swollen pink lips, but tilted his head at the last second to press it to her neck, suckling at the skin. “I’m not allowed to kiss you, remember?” Her hands clawed at his back, sure to leave marks that the art students would probably include in their drawings. Roze pulled away from him and stood from the bed to undress, berating him as her pants and shirt fell to the ground. 

‘You’re such a fucking asshole and I can’t believe I actually let you talk me into this whole fake dating plot, you cocky bast--!” He cut her off with a hard bite to her bare shoulder as soon as she was naked, his cock pressing into her stomach as he walked her backward to the wall before picking her up by her thighs. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her head back to the wall, overcome by the perfect feeling of his lips on her earlobe. Without warning, he pushed into her and let out a groan. “My pussy too good for you, Kaneko?” He answered with a rough thrust that left her gasping and incoherent.

“I should ask you the same thing about my cock, whore.” He punctuated his degrading nickname with a thrust and nipped his teeth into the sensitive skin behind her ear, causing her to moan loud from the combination of the feeling and the names. She screamed as he hit the perfect angle inside her, shocks of pleasure shooting up her spine. He grunted and let out a shaky breath as she clenched around him, feeling his release building and coiling in his stomach. Dropping her, he briefly pulled out of her and brought her to his empty desk, ignoring her whimpers when he bent her over so her breasts were pressed into the wood. The angle Colt thrusted at somehow made her louder, obsessed with finding her pleasure. She matched him thrust for thrust, screaming again when he landed a heavy hand on her ass.

“That’s right, scream for my cock, baby,” he called and the stark contrast between the sweet term of endearment and her quickly reddening ass sent her over the edge. 

“Colt, fuck!” Her nails dug into the wood beneath her as she climaxed, spasming around his dick. Feeling his own orgasm approaching, Colt pulled out and flipped her over so her back was on the desk and he was standing between her open legs. Running a hand down his shaft, he sent thick ribbons of his cum over her body, painting the tan skin of her stomach and breasts white. The sight of her body covered in him as she panted almost made him come again, but he managed to control himself. He found it harder to handle when she ran an index finger into the sticky liquid, coating a digit and sucking it clean. 

“Salty,” she mused, still breathing hard. 

“Jesus--” 

“Agreed.” Colt’s fingers were gripping her hip, sure to leave bruises to accompany the ones on her neck. 

“Wanna shower? We’ve still got half an hour.”

“Fuck yes, asshole.”

[insomniac-dot-ink]

The Grave of a Trees

genre: fantasy/DnD

words: 2.6k

summary: post-industrial revolution a hobbit goes to the ends of the earth to look for the Ents.

Read below or on my website: iawriting.com

The rumble of the car vibrated up Bast’s spine. It moved all the way from his toes to the top of his head, sending his teeth clattering and tail bone aching. The jeep careened around corners and sped along dirt roads with a certain gusto reserved for berserkers in battle and water nymphs drowning lecherous young men. It was something one was born to relish.

Bast was weightless for a moment as the car floored it over a small hill, his stomach swooping and body floating like an astronaut caught in orbit. Gods help the shocks on this thing, he thought to himself.

They landed with a crash and Bast yelped helplessly, Floria in the front just chuckled to herself at his reaction. An imp was the only person he could get to take him out this far.

The whole vehicle was scented with something like tar and licorice, the imp would sometimes glance in the mirror back at him. Luckily, the engine was so ferocious and feral that it’s noise blocked out any thought of having to make small-talk. That fit Bast just fine.

It was well-past noon by the time the car considered slowing down, skidding across the barely-there gravel road and approaching the thickets of woods. The far west had enormous forests like this covering it’s coast: dark, closely-knit and energy hovering on carnivorous.

The dark between the trunks was absolute and the leaves rustled far above with a threat between their teeth. The forest floor was sparse and padded with leaves and dark moss, there wasn’t enough sun leaking through the canopy above to help anything grow there.

The car gradually hissed to a halt as the lumpy road gave a final rocky wheeze and disappeared altogether. The car lurched violently into park and the engine rumbled thunderously before falling quiet.

Floria took the keys out and turned around, a perpetual smile plastered across her face and two shiny fangs protruding out from her mouth. She had red skin and cherry-blossom pink hair that hung at her cheeks in a bob, her eyes were inky black blots. Little tiny wings flapped on her back as she faced him.

“I’d play a funeral march now, but the radio conked two acres ago.” She commented breezily. “I noticed.” The only thing louder than the engine of the car was the gravely screamo remixes blaring from the speakers for the last four hours.

Floria grinned somehow even more widely, “are you sure you’re up for this, little ranger?” Bast just frowned delicately, “there’s nothing for it.” He whispered, patting his pocket and then reaching for the door, “this is it."

There had been stories, long ago and buried under other frayed memory, of hobbits that talked to the trees. They bonded with them deeper and longer than even the elves and the druids and all the folk in between. Bast owed it to them to keep trying.

That’s what his ancestors would have wanted, however long dead and forgotten they were.

Floria just snorted in return, “I’ll be back in a week. If you aren’t here in a couple hours I’m going back to the town and telling ‘em you died sucking tree bark.” Bast rolled his eyes elegantly, “I appreciate it,” he said dryly, “try not to lose your hearing on the return.” “What?” She said loudly and he met her eyes just in time to see the sparkle there. They shared a very brief chuckle. “I’ll see you Floria.” He hopped out, shouldering on his massive pack and only pausing a moment to glance back at the imp. “Wish me luck.” Floria leaned out of her jeep and threw up a peace sign, “pull some magic out of your ass, Halfling. You’re gonna need it.” Bast just wrinkled his nose and turned around, Floria revved her engine and sped away in a rainfall of dust and small rocks. Bast took a deep breath.

He stared at the trees for a long, tense moment, listening, feeling sweat lick down his neck and the cool breeze beckoning from the depths of the woods. This wasn’t a place for mortals, but very few forests were.

He patted his left pocket in a reassuring way, felt a large lump there, and then began to walk.

˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚

There was a moan in the wind. It was hushed, barely there, just a shiver under his skin and a soft finger across the back of his neck.

There was, nonetheless, a moan on the breeze. Bast’s ears twitched as he picked up on it, flicking back and forth. He had spent years being teased for their size, called “elf-blood” by peers and worse by everyone else. It was only by irony alone that his ears saved him time and time again.

Bast jumped over a dead tree and weaved back and forth among enormous trunks, following the moan deeper, deeper into the Forest of Saints. The name was a bit of a misnomer since no saints had died here, and since no one lived near there at all. The locals hoped it would call in some divinity to a place most considered generally “cursed to hell and back again.”

It was true Bast didn’t find a lot of holiness here. He just found shadows, spiderwebs, and the prints of animals bigger than anything under the mortal sun. The size of them matched the size of the trees themselves- trees so wide and dark they felt like walls.

It was quiet, no bird songs or bugling of elk, nothing but his own hushed footsteps and steady breathing. It smelled of something wet and green, dizzying and promising head colds every morning.

Bast thought it would take longer to be sucked completely into the heart of the woods, but the pulse of this place ate you whole and brought you into its bloodstream as quickly as any hungry mouth. It was vast and took you exactly where it thought you needed to go.

It led him past berry trees with fruit so red it almost stung to look at and trickles of streams and stone monuments by men and elves that had fled this land long ago. Bast endured it quietly as he saw the same stones and streams and broken shrines again and again.

“Show me,” he whispered to the dense trees, “please.”

The sun hung low and sour in the westerly in the sky when a new noise permeated the silent thickets. Bast stopped dead in his tracks, a growling coursed through the thin empty air, he turned around in circles, “I mean no harm.” He spoke in Common.

The growling was visceral. It was bloody, raw, and filled with things so old it could turn a normal person to dust and mold.

The sound grew with each passing moment, Bast’s skin crawled and his impressive ears perked up with a quiver. “I am a ranger,” he called, putting his hands up in the air. “I am Bast, son of Hemla. I am here for the trees.” The growling seemed to come from all directions, surrounding him and planting itself deep in his chest. He turned around once more, every hair on his body standing on end. Then he stopped. A great green-grey beast stood on a low branch above him.

Bast’s eyes went huge, his whole body taut and breath catching in his throat. It had a massive snout, trailing white whiskers, and two triangle ears, it stood on the lowest branch of a huge mother tree.

The beast’s paws were the size of Bast’s head and her legs as wide as his body. She was covered in dark dappled moss and growing things- like an island onto herself.

Underneath the greenery was grey fur so thick it looked like you could cut your hand on each hair.

Bast stumbled backward when the great beast leapt down, gracefully landing in the place in front of him. He felt the impact in his teeth.

“Forest wolf,” he whispered, but he knew she was something more than that. Much more.

An ancient dire wolf, bigger than any he had seen before. She had yellow eyes like glowing amber and a pelt covered in the very forest itself.

Bast put his hands further in the air, “I am Bast.” He said again, slowly, carefully. “I am a ranger. I can make the plants grow and the waters flow. I am not here to hurt your forest.” The forest wolf twitched her great snout, sniffing the air deeply. Her growling withered away and they were left at an impasse. She watched him through slitted eyes.

“Great guardian,” Bast tried one last time. “I want to save the Ents.” He winced so hard it hurt, “I have something.”

She watched him expectantly. Bast reached into his pocket, heart throbbing painfully. There was nothing for it, he had come so far or there was a high chance the guardian would bite his head off and think nothing of it. He swallowed thickly, cradling his treasure in his hands and hunching over.

“I know what we’ve done to this world,” he looked down at his feet, “mortals are hungry, no matter the species. We’ve hurt many forests.” He shook his head, “but I found this. At the very bottom of the Ashen Well in the volcanic plains.” He held up a single seed, about the size of a baby’s fist, it was a perfect acorn shape, and it pulsed warm in his hand like a tiny beating heart. It was shiny and hard, the throb of it was barely there, but it was still warm to the touch. “I’ve tried everything,” Bast whispered, “but I can’t raise him. I don’t know how, we need… I need to find someone to help, please.” The guardian looked down at the seed of a baby Ent, something worth more than all the gold in the world. It was said hobbits of old had a connection with the Ents, that they talked and listened and grew orchids together.

Perhaps I can do this yet, Bast thought to himself as the great forest guardian regarded him. Perhaps the planet is poisoned, perhaps it’s already over, but I can still do this.

The wolf closed it’s maw and padded closer and closer to him, he could smell the earthy scent of mulch and blood on her. She saddled up next to him and Bast looked dumbly back up, her belly reached the very top of his hat.

She lowered herself, haunches bending in an elegant arc and folding down to his level.

The wolf began to growl again, “okay, okay.” Bast returned the seed to his pocket and slowly approached her, she waited for him to grab onto a handful of fur. Her back was slippery with moss and hair thick as pine needles but he managed to clamber up high on her shoulders.

“Woah,” he was jostled backward the second he swung his legs over her back and had to hold on desperately with both hands. The wolf bounded across the forest floor and her back rolled like an ocean underneath them, they took off toward east of the sun.

Bast held on for dear life and his eyes began to water as the two of them pounded the earth and sped along the forest floor, the scenery becoming a blur of green as they moved.

His already-bruised tailbone ached as they crashed through the underbrush and went deeper and deeper into The Saint’s forest.

Will I be able to find my way back? Will I come back from this at all? A stray worrisome thought entered his head, but he dismissed it. I have to follow the forest spirit wherever she will take me.

It could have been an hour, it could have been five when the breakneck pace slowed.

The she-wolf lumbered to a slow stop and Bast cracked his eyes open, just as he heard the babbling of distant water and bird songs.

He blinked up, squinting into blotches of sunlight filtering in from up above. “Oh,” he hummed, feeling his chest expand.

This was a totally different part of the forest, dappled light spread all across the grassy floor- thick with foliage and animals skittering back and forth. “Thank you,” Bast said slowly, “thank you so much old mother.” The wolf just gave another brief growl and Bast swung off her back, landing with a heavy thunk and shudder felt through his knees. Bast managed not to topple over and firmly righted himself, the forest guardian started walking away the second he landed.

“Wait for me Old Mother,” he trotted along behind her and looked around once more. “Is this where they’ve been hiding?” He asked in a hush, “I’ve waited so long.” It had been five full moons since he had found the seed of an Ent. He was sure others existed but kings and treasure hunters craved them out as well, and then who knew what happened to the other tiny seeds. There was no telling if the one in Bast’s pocket could even still sprout.

The woods guardian led him toward a break in the trees, entering to a damp clearing with birds chirping high above and deer picking their way along the edges of the light. Bast could feel sacred energy of this place, he craned his neck back and took a deep breath.

“Great Ents!” He had to try, “please hear me!” He spun around in circles, “I have brought one of your own.” Nothing but chirping responded to him, Bast kept looking, circling the area and cupping his mouth to call out again and again. His voice echoed and the whole forest seemed somehow much stiller and emptier than it had before.

“Forest shepherds, tree lords, Ents of old,” his spirits began to flag, the sun was wilting into the earth, it was nothing but shadows brewing now. “Speak to me." Bast stopped when the wolf turned from him, facing the center of the clearing and padding away. Bast started to stomp after her, “why did you bring me here Old Mother?” He couldn’t keep the frustration out of his tone.

The wolf turned her massive head and Bast looked past her, the clearing had water running down the roots of a tree and pooling in a small clear pond at it's base. It was the largest tree he had ever seen, fit to house mansions or cities or more.

It breathed old life and the promises of all of time.

Bast ran, “is that one?” He called, a wild smile growing across his face. "Is this where the Ents have been hiding?" And then he looked up, the tree swept tall and larger than life, but the branches were bare, empty and bark ashen, it was only the hollow of a tree.

Bast’s shoulders fell, his heartbeat slowing and chest squeezing painfully. He turned to snap at the wolf, the birds, anyone, “is this some sort of game?” If this was ever an Ent, it was not living anymore.

Then he paused, stopped, eyes growing wide as he looked down. Some of the roots tangled into a shape: a little pocket woven like an uneven bean, filled with water so clear and blue it almost glowed. A cradle shape.

Bast trembled, he softly approached the cradle, fingers trembling toward the clear bubbling water. He could feel the magic there. The wolf followed him, her fangs exposed slightly and ears perked up.

There was still a chance he could lose his head.

Bast just nodded, he reached into his pocket, and he plucked out the little beating heart.

“Dear one,” he whispered to the baby, “I will protect you, we will do all we can, just,” he squeezed his eyes shut, pinpricks of water forming there. He slowly, slowly held the seed over the cradle of water, “come back to us.” He eased the seed into the Ent water. The seed settled at the bottom of the cradle and Bast looked down at it’s tiny pulse, beating hard and fast.

Please little one, he prayed, barely breathing, it’s your turn now.

A tiny, silken, white hair sprouted from the top of the acorn.

[kumkaniudaku]

Heard About Us: Three

A/N: This is the end. I’ll give my whole spiel about the creation of this later. It’s 2 AM, I’m tired and I need all the energy I can get to deal with 50 8-12 year old tomorrow. If there are any typos, charge it to my head and not my lack of intelligence. I don’t know if that makes sense. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,937 

Warnings: Sexual themes. 

ONE. TWO.

“My heaaaart, belongs to a roni! She’s my only looooove.” Chadwick’s singing rang out from the bedroom and grew louder as he approached Tasha in the bathroom. Still charged from the marathon sex of the afternoon, his hands found their way inside of his wife’s black silk dress to fondle her breasts while she applied powder to set her under eye concealer. “Give it a chance, girl. You’ll find romance, girl.”

“You singing to me or my pussy?”

“I’ll sing to both of y’all if we can cancel this reservation.”

“About that,” Tasha felt him groan into the crook of her neck, knowing that she was about to drop some news on him. “I invited my friend to join us tonight.”

“Your friend that had you away from me all night and day?”

“You’re such a baby. But, yes. Her husband will also join us. Is that, okay?”

He sighed and ran a hand over the crotch of her lace panties, “As long as I get to have you to myself when we get back.”

“I’m all yours, Daddy. I do have to warn you, though...”

“CoCo, you really know how to surprise a man. What now?”

“I just need to tell you that you and Maya’s husband share a few...similarities.”

“Similarities sounds like something I should be worried about.”

“Don’t be,”  Tasha turned his arms to face him, watching his nose scrunch at the baking powder resting on her face. “There are no worries tonight. Only fun times with another couple.”

“I’m trying to have fun times with you tonight. You think we can squeeze one in before we go?” His head dipped to capture her bottom lip between his teeth as he simultaneously gripped her ass. Placing her hands flat on his chest, Tasha reluctantly pushed him away.

“No, baby! Now get dressed. We don’t need a whole ass King and Queen waiting on us while we have sex!”

“Shit, they probably doing the same thing!”

                                     ______________

Despite the thick door and music playing to muffle the sounds, the Udaku suite swirled with sounds of lovemaking. Nothing could keep the couple apart once T’Challa caught a glimpse of his wife’s attire for the night. Resistance turned into desire when Maya stepped out of the bedroom to grab her purse and other items, preparing to meet Tasha downstairs in a timely manner.

“Kitten, you are a vision.” T’Challa purred, licking his lips in appreciation of his wife’s form.

Her bronze legs juxtaposed the maroon silk of her dress allowing the light to create a heavenly glow on her curvaceous body. The body oil and highlighter dusted across her cleavage drew T’Challa’s eyes to the area as he pulled her body close to his. He pushed her natural curls behind her ear to make room for a sweet kiss.

Despite the years of love and companionship between the couple, he never failed to make Maya’s face heat up like a schoolgirl receiving compliments for her crush.

“Thank you, baby. You look good, too.” It was Maya’s turn to eye her man through a veil of lust. His long sleeve, black dashiki clung to his chest and shoulders, framing his upper body the way that Maya loved. The custom embroidery, compliments of the Merchant Tribe, gave the King the subtle regality that he was known for. He opted for simplicity, pairing the traditional garment with a pair of slacks and outfit appropriate dress shoes.

“Good enough to make love to me right now,” T’Challa asked, nipping at her earlobe. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she closed her eyes.

“N-no, Challa. People are waiting for us.”

“Then,” his hand crept up Maya’s leg, stopping short of the crease in her thick thigh. They way she shivered against his touch and gripped his shoulders for support made him smile against the crook of her neck. “Let them wait.”

___________________

Chadwick and Tasha stood in the hotel lobby nervously watching the seconds on the clock tick away. With each passing moment, Chadwick worried about the possibility of being recognized and derailing the night while Tasha worried about Chadwick deciding end the date and lock himself in the room.

“Is your girl coming? I got two hours max before I’m ready to go bed. And you still owe me so-”

“Chadwick,” Tasha exclaimed to stop his sentence. “I’ll text her! Go get a drink or something.”

He threw his hands up in surrender before turning to search for the nearest bar to rest his feet and catch the tail end of game three of the NBA Finals.

Before Tasha could finish her text message, Maya and the King emerged from the elevator, fixing their outfits and sporting flustered faces. The Queen approached first, giving Tasha a look that answered all of her questions.

“Sorry we’re late. We had a uh...a-girl, we were having sex!” Maya informed, the last bit coming out in a hushed tone followed by a smirk.

“Dammit! I should’ve got some, too!,” Tasha quipped, sharing a smile with her friend. Looking over, she noticed the King smirking at the interaction. “It’s nice to see you smiling, T’Challa.”

“It is nice to see you as well, Tasha. Allow me to apologize for the way we met. I was a bit...frustrated. Forgive me.”

“No harm done. I understand.”

Maya craned her neck around the lobby, appearing to look for someone. “Where’s your hubby. I thought he was coming.”

“Oh, he’s at the bar,” Tasha took a moment to make sure that Chadwick wasn’t in the vicinity. “I actually need to warn both of you before he gets over here. See, our husbands-”

“CoCo, what the hell is wrong with Stephen? Call Ayesha up right now so I can talk to her.”

Tasha watched Maya and T’Challa’s eyes grow wide as Chadwick took long strides to join Tasha’s side. His black satin Fear of God coaches jacket complimented the couples overall look. Coupled with a black v-neck, black denim and retro Air Jordan “Master” 12s, he looked like a college student searching for trouble on a young, Saturday night.

“By Bast, that man has my face,” T’Challa gasped, grabbing his wife’s hand and pulling her behind him. “Ayo, detain that imposter.”

“Aye, man, what the f-” Chadwick started when Ayo went to grab his arm. Tasha attempted to stop the commotion as best she could in six inch heels against a trained warrior.

“Ayo,” The Queen held up her hand, signaling the guard to release Chadwick. He exaggeratedly pulled away, sizing her up in his head. “Co, is that...your husband?”

“Yes,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Maya and T’Challa, this is my husband, Chadwick Boseman. Aaron, this is my friend Maya and her husband, T’Challa.”

The two men stared at each other, both expressions unreadable as they scanned the other for possible indications of a threat.

While the resemblance was uncanny, a few minor details differentiated the men. Chadwick was a bit taller and more lanky than T’Challa. The King was much more polished, sporting a neat haircut and immaculately trimmed facial hair. Chadwick prefered to let his hair grow the way it wanted, locking in random place with a neat taper at the temples. Their personal styles gave insight into their personalities: T’Challa, obviously a calculated world leader and Chadwick, a more relaxed American black man.

As T’Challa continued to study his doppleganger, a light bulb went off in Chadwick’s head.

“Did you say your name was T’Challa?”

“I don’t believe I told you my name.”

“Challa,” Maya scolded, hitting her husband on the back. “You’re being rude as hell. Yes, that’s his name.”

Eyes wide with astonishment, Chadwick turned to look at his wife. “Baby, it’s him! The Black Panther,” He whipped his head around to look at the confused King. “I’m you. Well, not really you but, in the movie, I’m you! Oh my, God!”

Chadwick executed a perfect Wakandan salute, surprising and impressing the royal couple. Tasha was flabbergasted. Her husband, who had spent many a night complaining about the multiple requests to perform the task, was now fanning out in front of the real life version of his character. She made a mental note to tease him about it when they were granted privacy.

“There is a movie about me, yes?”

“Hell yeah, there’s a movie about you! Damn, does this mean I did another biopic?”

“This movie, tell me about the subject matter.”

“Nuh-uh,” Maya interrupted. “We can talk about this at dinner. I’m hungry and my feet hurt.”

“Say that, sis! Aaron, did you call the car?”

“Y-yeah,” He answered, still distracted by the bizarre nature of the situation. “It’s outside right now.”

“So...let’s go. Maya, T’Challa, Ayo and Kali can go ahead. I need to talk to this one.”

Maya pulled T’Challa along, the King taking a look back over his shoulder to find Chadwick still looking at him.

“Aaron, helloooo,” Tasha sang, snapping in front his face to get his attention. “Earth to my baby daddy.”

“It’s him, baby. I just met the leader of an African nation and his black wife. AND HE LOOKS LIKE ME! I gotta call my mama.”

Tasha watched her husband with a fond smile as he gripped at his hair and spun around. His excitement was too much to contain but, she knew she needed to calm him down before the night ended in embarrassment for both of them.

Similarly, Maya was forced to deal with the cocky grin on T’Challa’s face after they were safely situated in the backseat of the chartered SUV.

“Kitten, there is an American movie about me. You are no longer the only star in this marriage, entle.”

“This is why I didn’t tell you. You don’t even know what it’s about,” she responded, rolling her eyes.

He lightly shrugged and brushed dust off of his shoulders. “Eh, I know that it must be great if it is about me. I am a great King and protector.”

“Here we go…”

“Should I book an agent as well? Will I be invited to the American award shows next year? What will we wear?”

                               ______________

Dinner was characterized by conversation dominated by T’Challa and Chadwick and satisfied smiles exchanged between Maya and Tasha. After the initial shock of their near identical facial structure, the husbands engaged in conversation from the time they joined each other in the car to the entres being set on the table. Chadwick listened with focused intent as T’Challa explained the true nature of Wakanda and their global outreach. When applicable, Chadwick explained the African-American experience and ways that the two sides of the same coin could work together to advance the people as a whole. And, or course, there were explanations of the film to satisfy T’Challa’s curiosity.

“So, I am the only Black superhero in this ‘universe’.”

“Kind of. Sam Wilson is in the cinematic universe too but, he doesn’t have his own movie.”

“Did you hear that, entle? The bird is not as popular as the cat in America.”

“Show them the accent, baby,” Tasha urged, bumping her elbow into Chadwick’s arm. “He worked so hard on it y’all.”

“You speak Xhosa? Oh, we gotta hear this.”

“Nah, I don’t want to offend,” Chadwick replied, taking a sip of his water.

“No, brother, I insist. It is an honor to know that you have embraced our home. Please, share.”

Tasha gave her husbands thigh a gentle squeeze under the table to reassure him. Clearing his throat, Chadwick prepared to speak.

“Umfazi wam uhle, ewe?”  Chadwick asked, his accent mirroring Maya and T’Challa’s. They looked to each other with smiles before responding.

“Ngokuqinisekileyo.” Maya answered, smiling at her friend who was totally unaware of what was being said.

“Ngaba loo ntokazi ingayiqonda,” T’Challa asked, searching Tasha’s face for any sign that she understood. Chadwick took a pause to piece together the question and form his response.

“Hayi,” he looked at Tasha and smiled. “Kodwa, ndimthanda umfazi wam.”

“Okay, okay,” Tasha laughed, grabbing her husband’s hand and intertwining their finger. “Tell my country ass what y’all said.”

The three sets of eyes looked at each other, silently electing Maya the spokesperson.

“Chadwick was just telling us how beautiful you are and how much he loves you.”

Tasha looked to Chadwick with a surprised smile before connecting with his lips to finish their kiss. “Aww, baby! How sweet!”

“I believe my daughter, Mala, would say that you two are hashtag goals.” T’Challa complimented, raising his glass in a salute to the man across from him.

When entrees were finished and desert was declined, the couples danced their way into the nightclub, ready to enjoy a few hours of dancing and loud conversation with celebrity friends of Chadwick’s.

T’Challa took the longest of the group to loosen up but, once he did, he gladly joined the cigar circle that Chadwick started in his section. Bottles popped, smoke puffed and bodies grinded until the wee hours of the morning. Had Tasha not complained of being hungry with no Waffle House in sight, the group would not have returned to hotel until the sun rose the next morning.

Instead, they filed into Boseman suite’s spacious living room for late night snacking and talk of their children and marriage. As the clock rounded into 4 AM, Maya’s yawns and need to cuddle into her husband’s side alerted everyone to the end of the night.

“I remember when me and Aaron were in college, we could stay out until 6 in the morning, eat some pancakes and start all over again,” Tasha laughed, pressing further into Chadwick’s side as he stroked her silk covered thigh. “Now, a bitch is sleepy!”

“Girl, I thought I was the only one. How the hell did I pledge if I can’t even stay awake?”

T’Challa took the initiative to stand, gently tugging his wife up with him and helping her back into her shoes. Chadwick and Tasha followed suit to walk the couple out. Reaching the door, Maya turned to Tasha and smiled.

“This was so much fun. Thank you for inviting us.”

“Oh, Star, don’t mention it. We enjoyed having you guys come with us. Right, babe?”

Chadwick gave T’Challa a respectful not that the King returned. “Anytime, y’all. We gotta get together again.”

“The next time we’re in L.A., maybe we’ll give you guys a call?”

“Oh, please do,” Tasha exclaimed. “We can fire up the girl or something. Y’all can bring the kids and make this a good ol’ family time.”

“And, one day, we can get y’all out to Wakanda.”

T’Challa’s eyes bugged at the suggestion. A night of fun with the Boseman family was one thing but, inviting back to his country was another.

“Kitten, I am sure that they have far better things to do. Wakanda would be too much of a hassle. Right?”

“No, no not really.” They answered in unison.

“Then it’s settled. We’ll come to Los Angeles and then, when you’re ready, both of you are welcome to visit us in Wakanda!”

The wives squealed in excitement as the husbands shook hands. The thought of visiting the country and exploring for a few days fascinated Chadwick and worried T’Challa. He already had one American black man back home to worry about. Though Chadwick seemed wildly different from Erik, he wasn’t sure if he needed two at the same time. Still, he respected Chadwick and loved his wife, making him willing to either give it a shot or work day and night to make his wife forget the proposal.

With a final hug, Tasha and Maya exchanged ‘see you laters’.

“Now, you call me if you need me. I have a jet. I can come see about you whenever,” Maya assured Tasha.

“And you do the same. Hell, with a jet, we can go on over to Paris and shop for a weekend.”

“Bast.”

“Jesus.”

The husband’s looked at each other and smiled. Even across cultures, Chadwick and T’Challa shared a mutual disappointment in their wives’ shopping habits.

“Y’all travel safe!”

“Let me know when you get home!”

Shutting the door, Tasha turned to face Chadwick’s smiling face. “Did you enjoy yourself, Big Daddy?” Her arms wrapped around his waist as her lips connect with a spot on the center of his throat.

“I did, Mama. I’m glad I let you talk me into this. We’re going to Wakanda!”

While Tasha and Chadwick celebrated a trip to South Africa, Maya and T’Challa discussed logistics.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Kitten. Think of the preparation.”

“You’re preparing to get on my nerves, Challa.”

The King opened his mouth to offer a rebuttal but stopped. “I will drop it for now but, we will have to discuss this.”

Maya grumbled a whatever in response, pushing the door to the suite open and kick off her shoes. “I’m going to bed. You can talk to yourself tonight.”

He rolled his eyes and followed her into the bedroom. “Do you really think he looks like me?”

“No,” the corner of the Queen’s lips curled into a devious smile. “He’s cuter. Did you hear that country boy accent?”

“Entle-”

“You know, he used to act. Maybe we can get together and he help me get back on stage again.”

“And I can take Tasha on a stroll around the gardens when she visits. She is quite beautiful, nay?”

“If that’ll give me and Chadwick some alone time, sure.” He response caught T’Challa off guard, his jaw dropping in a brief moment of defeat.

“It is settled. Your friend can no longer visit. You did this to yourself, sithandwa sam.”

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[doux-ciel]

Gift Of Life. Hoping for a Miracle

Soundtrack:  🎵 🎵 🎵

Character Aesthetics:  🔥 🔥 🔥

Tagged: @youngdumbxlit @cvlms @jess---writes @jadeswritinggarden @bambimattel @requiemdelune @blackandwhitesunsets @bzrtales @viviscreams @thewriterkatie @erinisawriter @seraphilth @godxblooded

*Im going to have a link to my post in which it asks if you want to be tagged in my WIP’S* 

If so click here ->  ✨ ✨ ✨

|Trigger Warning|  Book does contain talk of death, Depression, Eating Disorders, Angst, Emotionally heavy topics. 

⚠⚠ YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!! ⚠⚠

“Mom why is the sky blue?”

I reply to my curious 8 year old daughter who was laying in the frosty grass of my backyard; her striped rainbow hat had fallen beside her face. “I don't know”

“Mom why is the grass green?” She asks as she plucks a blade of grass, her fingers melting the icy substance.

She never runs out of questions to ask. I place my book down on the end table that was near the patio chair. “I don't know sweetie”

“Mom why can't I have a sister or a brother?”

“That I definitely don't know” I chuckle a little while bringing my hot tea to my lips, taking a sip. Counting the calories in my head, I close my eyes just for a moment to enjoy this feeling; knowing soon it would be over. I place my mug down focusing my attention on my 4’1 fair skinned daughter who had jumped up from the icy ground and ran over to me. “You don't love all the attention I’m giving you?”

While in my arms she answered. “Attention is for animals at the zoo, Lindsey at school her mom just had a baby…..I want a baby too”

I take my cold hands placing them on her rosy cheeks, bringing her face closer to mines giving each other Eskimo kisses. “I do too darling” She giggles and backs away from me, taking a seat next to me on the patio chair. She grabs her mug, bringing the now cool hot chocolate to her lips.

We both turn our heads over to the fence that encompasses our backyard when we hear a familiar voice. My mother-in-laws voice fills my ears; Natasia holds her hands out and crouches down to be at the same level with Adalynn who was currently running to her grandmother. “Hey there's my little sweet cake”

“Grandma!!” Adalynn exclaims, her short arms wrap around the elderly woman’s neck.

Natasia lifts up Adalynn while picking up her scarf that had fallen from their previous encounter. “Are you ready for ice skating today?”

Adalynn nods, now placing her head on Natasia’s neck. “Yes I'm ready”

I see Natasia’s eyes shift over to me, she has a look of disapproval. I then see her nutmeg colored eyes observe Adalynn’s attire, seeing as how she is in her knit grey leggings, a yellow coat and her uggs. Basically what Natasia is saying that she is not in her practice uniform. Lowering my head as my red hair falls into my face. I then reach up to where my book lay grabbing it, the title read Bound Before The Morrow. “Well you don't look ready? Where's your skates and your gloves?”

Natasia sets Adalynn down on the ground, “There in the library, I have to go find them!! Can you help?”

Natasia grabs Adalynn’s hand, they both start their trek to my home library. As they walk past me, Natasia places her hand on my shoulder squeezing her nails which are digging into my skin. “Off to the library we go!!”

I flinch a little, waiting for the pain to subside my mind would often think about having more children. Giving my husband a boy or another girl, giving Adalynn someone to play with, giving her someone to grow up with.

I want to have a real family.

Speaking of my husband I see his name pop up on my phone screen, his profile picture is of him when we were on our vacation to the Maldives. I immediately answer; putting the book in my hand down. I bring my Iphone XIX up to my ear, I hear his low-toned voice which makes me smile.

“Hey my love”

I rise up from the patio chair, grabbing my now empty mug and Adalynn’s half full mug; gathering the piece of literature. While balancing my phone in between my shoulder and ear; I walk into the kitchen which was seconds away from my backdoor.“Hi Nathaniel, I can't wait for you to come home” Placing the mugs in the warm soapy water, and with my other hand I place the book down on my gray marble counter tops.

Nathaniel sighs, I know he has had a ton of meetings today, he must be exhausted. “I can't wait to come home either...I'm so ready to-”

“Get in bed?” I ask.

“Yes definitely” He answers.

“And doing what in bed?” I ask, as I take off my jacket my hands brush against my nipples which were now erect from just the sound of his voice. I knew I needed him in me now.

“Sleeping, I'm so drained from today's meetings”  I roll my eyes as I rest my elbows by the edge of the sink.

Turning on the faucet, letting the cold water run and scooping some up with my free hand; splashing it on my face. I know my face was red like a strawberry as I blushed with embarrassment. “Well I'm ovulating and I just thought-”

Nathaniel quickly apologizes “I'm so sorry…..your right, but wait don't you have that appointment today? To check to see if everything is working properly?”

That last comment caught me off guard, I scoff shutting the water off, my voice gets higher with every word. “Are you trying to say something Nathaniel?”

“What are you talking about?” Nathaniel asks, his voice getting defense.

“Are you calling me defected or something?”

I don’t hear anything on the other end for a good 30 seconds before I hear his usual blunt voice louder than normal. “Look I never said that...I'm just saying we have been trying for a couple of months now and nothing is happening”

I was getting agitated by the minute, and to think I was happy when he first called me just ten minutes earlier. “Yeah well maybe there's something wrong with you? Did you ever think about that?!”

He clears throat his voice is clear and firm, “Charlotte just go to the doctor and listen to what they are saying...they know what they are doing, just let them figure this out.”

I take a deep breath, practicing the exercises my therapist taught me when I’m feeling stressed. My words come out in a more calm tone. “I know it's just hard not knowing”

I can tell he was smiling through the phone, “Hey your still perfect to me” He softly says to me.

I roll my eyes while walking over to the living room placing my butt on the cushion first while letting gravity lead the rest of my body to fall. I snicker, “You've gotten better at dodging the situation.”

I then earn a chuckle from my husband, “I just try not to think about it...so are you finishing up your book?”

I examine a piece of loose cloth on my sweater while thinking about my newest romance novel, that I still have yet to complete. “Yeah, Bloomsbury said I have to turn it in by next week so I'll be cramming in the last few chapters like every night”

“You can do it” I appreciate the encouraging words from him but I already know he isn’t that interested in my writing. He barely wants to hear my ideas when its just us two together in the office sometimes. I know I supported him when he was starting up his computer software company, but its like he can’t give me that type of support. I already hear it from his mother everyday about how I’m not contributing to the household and how my job isn’t ideal for our lifestyle but I think Nathaniel and I are well off. Sometimes too well off, but I’m grateful for the life my husband has provided for me and I wouldn’t ever want to change it.

“Thank you” I reply.

He was now sounding concerned, “Did you eat today?”

I look over at the breakfast he made me this morning, some pancakes, eggs, with some sausage and a glass of orange juice. I can feel the plate staring at me; taunting me almost.

I lie. “Yes why?”

“You know how you get Charlotte” His voice changes to a more cheery tone. “How's my little blessing doing? Does she miss papa?”

A smile appears on my face thinking about how close they have gotten over the years. Old memories flood in when we first brought her home with us, when she wouldn’t let anybody else hug her but Nathaniel. That little girl has brought so much life to both of our lives. “She sure does”

“I want to talk to her”

My eyes search around the room until I hear Adalynn’s whines coming from the bathroom upstairs, I’m thinking Natasia is trying to do her hair. Its safe to say Adalynn despises getting her hair touched at all, if it weren’t for me doing her hair at night while she was asleep her hair would look like a birds nest. “She's getting ready for ice skating lessons”

I hear some shuffling of some papers on the other end of the line. “Who's taking her?”

“Well your mother of course” I answer matter of factly.

“Is Wallace going with her?” he asks referring to Natasia’s life partner as she likes to call. I just think she didn't want to date someone who was halfway to their deathbed.

I shake my head, trying to remember the man's work hours, “No I don't think so, why would he go with her?”

He clicks his tongue, he voice is now showing a hint of annoyance, “He follows my mom everywhere when he's not at work, he's like a lost puppy looking for a bone”

I try and reason with him, in no way am I condoning this relationship but its his mother's life. “He likes her company, I mean they are together”

I can see his face now, he probably has his head buried in his hands, the vein on his forehead is probably protruding. His voice sharp on the subject at hand. “I don't even know why mom would get with that bast-”

“Hey, just calm down...now it's been years since your father died Nathaniel, I think she felt it was time for her to move on” I bring my hand up to my face sliding it across from my eyebrows to my right cheek. Slightly annoyed by his whole tone changing just by the sound of a another mans name. If I being honest I think Nathaniel just doesn’t want his mother to be happy with anyone else.

“With a guy 30 years younger than her?”

“Love is love”

I hear a foreign voice on his end of the line call out to him, he pauses for minute listening to what the person had to say. He grumbles profanities before saying, “Anyways I have to go, tell Adalynn I said good luck at practice today, and for you good luck with the appointment.”

I place my hand on my stomach, sending a little prayer up to the universe asking to help me. “Love you”

“Love you to pieces.” He replies back, I then hear the three beeps letting me know the call has ended.

I bring my feet down to the multicolored carpet that lay in my very moody/dark living room. Walking over to the kitchen where my plate of food lay, I look at how the syrup has settled into the fried flour. How the eggs have melted cheese in them, and how the sausage is glistening with the fatty oils that came from the pan.

It makes me sick to even think about.

Without hesitation I place the food in the garbage can, while taking a few minutes of my time to tidy up the kitchen.

Just after I had finished putting all the wet dishes on the drying rack; I see my phone buzz. I see the notification from an unknown number. I tap the message, reading the screen over and over hoping it would change. Hoping she would somehow disappear from my life forever.

¤ ¤ ¤

While Natasia was taking Adalynn to practice I had to catch my appointment with Dr. Stone. She has been my doctor for years, even before I wanted to have children. I was sitting in her office waiting for her to come back with my test results we had previously did in the summer, approximately about 2 months before today’s date. Her mahogany tinted skin came into view, her eyes were looking down at my folder, she didn’t express any emotion at all. Sitting down across from me; her silver and glass office desk is the only barrier between us two. “Nothing is 100% set in stone but things aren't looking good Charlotte...the tests came back, we already know that you had some problems in your past.”

I purse my lips, crossing my arms over my body, “Problems that I'm trying to fix.”

She sets my folder aside, she swallows her lips; looking me in my eyes she asks. “Have you been making yourself-”

Why won’t she let this subject go? Can’t she see that I’m trying to do better for not only my health but the health of my womb. I notice my right eye start to twitch while my left leg start to move side to side. “No...I told you I'm trying to fix things”

Pursing her own plump lips she looks at my body language, her eyes focus back on her desk. “I know I'm just making sure”

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in. I’m starting to get anxious about the silence in the room, with only the clock ticking. I straighten up in the chair I’m currently sitting in; peering over to look at my folder I try and make out what all of this means. Placing my chewed fingernails on the edge of the desk I ask,  “Ok so what is it?”

Her eyes meet mines, a warm smile appears on her face making me feel much better about my current condition, but boy was I wrong. “You seem to be ovulating regularly but we are not in the safe zone, with the things your body has been through with your other miscarriages plus your eating disorder I don't know if your even going to able to carry another baby full term.”

That isn’t what I wanted to hear at all.I sit back in my chair, placing my index finger on my temple and my thumb on my cheekbone, my voice is now grim “Do you think I’ll ever be able to experience motherhood to the full extent?”

“Charlotte you’re already a mother” Dr. Stone reassures me, reaching her hand across the desk; motioning her fingers telling me to grab a hold of her hand for comfort. Even though it seems sometimes she has a stone heart, it feels like something or someone is always chipping away at it. Never married, no children, her life seems more miserable than mines. But she had told me previously she lives a happy and well content life, a life that is worth living.

Grabbing onto her hand I feel my nose get hot, my top lip starts to quiver, I can feel myself start to crumble in front of her. “Yes I know that but, experiencing the baby kick and the belly…..the maternity clothes” My head lowers having my thick head of hair conceal my face, I notice the tears falling down like raindrops onto her desk. I repeatedly apologize, while taking my sweater and trying my best to wipe it away.

Dr. Stone squeezes my hand and in a soft but comforting voice she says, “Charlotte look….I know it’s hard. But you have to realize there are other options for you….you could try adopting”

I shake my head, quickly retracting my hand back away from hers; I take the sleeve of my sweater to wipe my face. Again that’s not what I was wanting to hear, maybe it was childish of me to not face reality but I wasn’t in the right mental space to accept that something is really wrong with me. I rise up from my seated position, “Are we done here?”

I could see Dr. Stone was taken aback by my actions just a few seconds prior, but that didn't; stop her from containing a level of professionalism. She grabs a pen from inside her desk, “Yes, just let me sign your paperwork and give you your prescription.”

When I walk into the lobby of the clinic I wait in line for my name to be called to set up another appointment with Dr. Stone in the next couple of months. As I’m waiting I see a woman who looks middle aged, carrying a small infant. I peer down, her saddle brown diaper bag and I see a large text book, in which it read: The Visual Display of Quantitative Information. It looks as though she is getting her Ph.D. I then settle my eyes on the warm olive toned baby. The baby could be 5 months...6? I focus my attention back on the mother, I wonder how life for her is like, is it hard? Trying to be in school while also raising a child? I wonder if she too had complications conceiving and suddenly she fell pregnant? Or If she’s just fertile and has 6 kids at home, either way I'm jealous.

Why can’t I just conceive? I can feel the tears coming, I start to sniffle the mucus that was wanting to run all down my nose. A kind young woman noticing me grabs me some tissue from her purse, I gladly took them. After a short while of being in my own head my name finally got called.

I had just gotten in my 2026 Honda C-RV, with my seat belt on but; I didn’t put my left foot on the brake to push the button to start the car. Instead I turn my back to look at the 2nd row of my sports utility vehicle; looking at the back two seats. Seeing Adalynn’s booster seat brings back memories of when Nathaniel and I first brought it. The countless questions he would ask when she first started riding with us.

“Are you comfortable Adalynn?”

“Is it too high Adalynn?”

I then remember just a short time after she had gotten comfortable with us, Nathaniel and I were taking a trip to the market. Adalynn was in a deep slumber, we could see her lips slightly parted hearing her small snores.

In the driver's seat, he takes his seat belt off turning to me while I was trying to get the shopping list together, “You think you want another?”

I mush my eyebrows together confused as to what he was asking me. “Another child?”

He nods, grabbing my hand, “Of course another child...but this time I want you to carry mines”

I look away not wanting to discourage him but I know with the previous miscarriages it would be damn near impossible.

As my electric blue eyes scan the outside world, bringing me back to the present.

 Through my back window I notice a butterfly; swiftly moving against the wind its beautiful and articulate details to its wings had me memorized. The way tiny insect was able to push through and keep on going.

Butterflies mean hope, it could mean something else to others but to me it means I have to to keep hope alive, I can’t give up. In the back of my mind I knew I couldn’t bring myself to arrive home and present my husband with horrible news.

Not again at least.

I wanted to give him another child but I needed to weigh my options again, I needed to make a decision on what I was going to do. To have that hope that I had a few minutes ago; I decide to call the only person I know who could help me in this situation. Pressing my left foot on the brake I push the button to start my vehicle. 

Taking my phone and grabbing my charger cord connecting it to car; I press the third contact number down. After hearing the 4th ring she finally answers, Her honeyed voice fills up my car. “Hi”

I look in the rear view mirror waiting to see if any cars were coming behind me. When I don't see anyone I proceed to change my gear to reverse, “How are you doing? Mother”

Natasia answers, “I'm doing well your little firecracker is keeping me on my toes, I can't wait for another.”

My foot presses on the break suddenly my body jerks forwards. Taking a couple of shallow breaths I look back in my rear view mirror seeing a car almost run into me. I take my hand putting it up; mouthing the words ‘I'm sorry’ to the husband who is currently trying to get his wife into clinic that I was just coming out of. I clear my throat, “I don't think that's going to happen”

“What? What do you mean?”

As I turn out the parking lot and onto the main road I press the button to let the seat heaters turn on, I turn the volume up a bit higher. “The doctor told me that she doesn't think I'm able to carry a baby to full term”

Natasia scoffs, “Oh that's preposterous! That's just not true”  I hear Adalynn in the background naming her favorite animals.

Stopping at the red light I raise my eyebrows while nodding my head, “I'm telling you...it is”

I hear her voice get quiet, “What about adoption?”

I press the gas pedal when the light turns green, my car hits a pothole in the road sending me and my car up off the asphalt for a second. I twist my lips, “Adoption again? We had to wait years to get Adalynn and I don't think I can't wait that long again...we just got her three years ago, I want a baby. A baby that I can hold and nurture, a baby that knows I'm its mommy.”

“Well you know Rachel?” Natasia asks me.

I remember fondly of the now mother 5, her husband was a aerospace engineer while she was a real estate agent. Her eldest Destiny would play with Adalynn sometimes after school. “Yeah the one that had the triplets last fall?”

“Yeah her..well she was infertile and she got some help.”

Now I’m intrigued I always thought she had the triplets naturally, although I was a little skeptical on why she would always be in her minivan covering her stomach while picking up her girls. “Help? What do you mean?”

“I mean she hired a surrogate”

I was astonished, I didn’t know how to react. I turn on the corner of Layfette and Wilbur Road. “Is that illegal?”

Natasia chuckles, “Oh no darling never...I'll tell you what? I'll set you up an appointment at the place, it's called Gifting Miracles”

Thinking about what she was saying still in my heart I thought about that butterfly. I still want to keep trying but maybe sitting back and letting someone else do the work for me isn't so bad right?

I mean the saying goes mom knows best.

I smooth out my tan slacks and button the top of my jade green blouse, walking into the Ice Skating Rink for my interview. As I enter I’m greeted with a plethora of hellos and good afternoons from the parents waiting for their children to go onto the ice. I see to my left and right a sitting area, most of the kids are in their long sleeved shirts either playing with one another or on a tablet.

I look straight ahead from the front door I see the ice rink, a coltish young brunette haired woman shouts out to the kids that were currently on the ice. All the girls huddle around to watch as she brings her right hand around her body; her arms moving slowly. “Ok girls now we are going to bring our right hand around and start slowly skating backwards”

I then get interrupted by my name being called. “Yesenia Cervantes?”

Not knowing where the sound came from I turn my head to my right, I don’t see anything but a coffee stand. When I turn to my left, in the farther left hand side of the room I see an elderly woman. Looking to be late 60’s her dainty body walks over to me, giving me a grin. I put my hand out to shake hers, “I called earlier asking about any volunteer opportunities and a lady named Harlow on the phone said I should come in person to speak with someone”

I can see everyone turning to look at me, the mothers in the lobby whisper to themselves, probably wondering how a woman of my ethnicity can skate on the ice. She motions me with her hands to follow her in the clear glass office space.  “Well that’s my assistant but she’s not in right now but I'm happy you stopped by...I'm Daisy”

After we got settled into our seats, I quickly put my phone on silent. Ms. Daisy is sitting in the cherry red office chair reading my references out loud, she pauses when she gets to my education. She purses her lips, “So what college?” she asks as she reaches on her desk for her reading glasses, placing them on her face.

I proudly say, “University Of Wisconsin-Madison...Junior”

She nods while placing my information down she grabs a manila folder from her filing cabinet, licking her finger to separate the pages sitting back down. “Ok, well I'm just going to ask you a few questions-”

We both get interrupted by a freckled face red head child, her hair in a really neat bun. She runs to the desk where me and the older woman sat, placing her arms around the woman. “Ms. Daisy!!”

Ms. Daisy’s eyes light up when she sees the tiny human cling onto her scrawny limb.“Oh hey Adalynn!! How are you doing today?”

The young child with 2 teeth missing on the bottom row of her mouth showed a toothy grin. “I doing spec….spec-”

I finish her sentence, “Spectacular?”

Adalynn and her beautiful tawny brown eyes had to suppress the anger she had with a huff, her tiny lips form a pout as she points her index finger at me. “She wouldn’t let me finish but that’s what I was gonna say”

Again we were interrupted by an elderly woman, her jet black hair was slicked back into a tight bun just like the little girl who ran in here 3 minutes ago. Unbidden, her gaze rose to the scene before her, staring at me. Her face contorted into a mask of hatred as her lips formed a straight line. She slowly shifts her eyes glaring at Adalynn, “Adalynn you know you shouldn't be going in people's offices unannounced...oh I'm sorry were we interrupting something?”

“Well I'm with a potential volunteer” I explained.

“Oh you skate?” She questions, raising her eyebrow. Bending down to Adalynn’s level she whispers something in her ear. Whatever it was; she must’ve been wanting to punish the child because a few seconds later Adalynn was away from Ms. Daisy and her desk.

I nod my head, straightening up in my seat. “Yes ma’am I do”

Ms. Daisy then interrupts, “How many years?”

“4” I reply back, I think about all of the medals I have won over the years of skating. My mother taught me to love the ice when I was a little girl, I would spend hours outside. I would be standing at the bus stop waiting for the school bus when me and a couple of the other kids would use our shoes as ice skates just sliding around on the street. She spent her whole paycheck just to get me ice skates, it was because of her pushing me to do something I loved; I continued to pursue it throughout the years.

“Oh...wow that's a long time” Natasia stammered, blinking a few times and giving me a forced smile. She reaches for the child’s hand; once their hands were connected, her feet turn to the exit bringing Adalynn with her. “Come Adalynn we need to get you stretched and ready for your lesson”

Adalynn, who was currently trying to keep up with the pace of her grandmother  turns her head and waves at Ms. Daisy. “Bye!!”

Ms. Daisy stands up and walks back over to the office door closing it, while walking back to her desk she shakes her head. Her eyes closed briefly as she whispers something to herself. She then looks in my direction. “Sorry we were interrupted….so you said 4 years?”

I nod “Yes that’s right”

“So about your previous experience…”

My mind goes elsewhere as I bite the inside of my cheek hoping this interview would soon be over but I could tell she was just getting started. I look up at the clock as I see the minute hand moving slowly around the case and past the various numbers.

This is going to be a long interview.

¤ ¤ ¤

Walking past the various buildings where all of the current students at UW were attending, I venture on to the common grounds of my campus. Spotting my group of friends who were currently stuffing their faces with the food from the cafe. The cold crisp air fills my lungs as I walk over to them.

Henry with his cigarette resting on his ear was going on one of his rants as usual, I give him a nod as I walk up to them taking a seat next to Nova. “Hanging out is dating, that's what dating is now”

My other friend Obasi chuckles, his eyes green like an emerald peered over at Nova. “Dating is sweat palms, hot thighs”

Violet who was currently eating a chicken salad, rolls her eyes at the two men. “You guys are crazy”

Henry continues “Couples are a dead concept, all meaningful social interactions are meaningful in a group” While fishing in his pocket for his lighter, Nova stood up grabbing it off the the icy ground where it lay for probably the whole time they were out here. She uses her thumb to roll the metal spark wheel; a flame rises up from the black lighter.

“Your always dropping that damn thing” She grumbles.

Kissing his teeth he grabs the cigarette behind his ear, putting the piece of tobacco up close to the flame. “Yesenia you think this is a date?”

I chuckle, seeing there was no money in my wallet I look over at the cafe and turn back around to face him. “You paying for my lunch?”

Exhaling the smoke he winks, placing his right hand on my thigh. “I don't know….am I gonna score later?”

I start to laugh out loud while pushing his hands which were covered in paint away from my leg. “What? This is only our first date!”

With the snow cleared from the sidewalk thanks to the city of Madison. Wesley and his hover board came rushing in, he was coming pretty fast and he lost his balance, his books/papers flew everywhere. After laying in the snow laughing at himself he jumps up, his knees now wet with snow from the fall. Nova and I help gather all of his papers as he grabs peanut butter crackers from an picnic table which happens to be near us, tearing the snack open he stuffs 2 crackers in his mouth,  “Don't you just love college...free friends...free food, hell you even get a bed and all you have to do is go to a couple of classes and do some papers”

Violet while chipping at her nail polish gives Wesley a thumbs up, “It looks like your financial aid went through”

Giving Obasi a high-five he grabs his books from off the ground and sets them on table. “Damn right it did, full-ride baby”

This caught my attention, I never got a letter in mail about anything dealing with my financial aid yet. “Wait did everyone get theirs?”

I notice everyone’s eyes are on me, they all look dumbfounded by my comment, Nova speaks up, “Of course...papers went out like 2 weeks ago”

I let out a huff while reaching in my bag to get my phone out I start to text my mom to find out if there was anything in the mail for me. “What?”

 Placing my free hand on my forehead I tuck my hair behind my ear, pinching my eyes shut. I know I filled the application out 1 month ago, I then start to get irritated with that fact that my mother wasn't replying fast enough. I go to my student email account not seeing any new messages I decide to find out what happening for myself. I know the financial office is still open, I tell everyone a quick goodbye when I sprint towards the building.

Once inside I’m met with a student who was working at the front desk, she told me to fill out the sign in sheet and wait for my name to be called. It was a numerous amount of people sitting or standing in the waiting room to also be called. I see a woman who looks middle aged, carrying a small infant in her lap. I smile at the tiny human, admiring its hazel eyes; the child babbles at me while reaching its hand out.

After about a hour of waiting and the room is damn near empty I hear my name be called. Looking up I see my financial adviser, we walk to his office and when he shuts the door he explains to me about how his office never received my application.

I place both hands on the desk gripping the sides while glaring down at him, “You can't just stop my aid, I'm graduating next year!”

“I'm sorry-”

I slam my hands on the desk, “You need to give me my money!! I'm not going to just sit here and let this happen to me just because some stupid idiot lost my application”

Shaking his head does his best to calm me down, grabbing me a water bottle from his mini fridge. Turning around to his filing cabinet he looks for my name but doesn't see anything, As he turns back around and faces me, his mouth curves into a frown.  “Listen Yesenia I'm sure this will all work out the way it should...there must be some other way that you can pay for school”

I scoff taking a deep breath in and back out, taking my phone back out I start to check my messages I say lowly to myself, “Yeah right….only a miracle could make that happen.”

¤ ¤ ¤

I was placing the acrylic fake nail on my middle finger when I hear running from the outside of my dorm room door. I hear the little beep that occurs when someone is coming in. My hair in a messy ponytail I could feel a few tendrils that don't want to stay put fall onto my shoulders.

“I got a 911, girl what is going on?” Nova came running towards me, the her ROTC uniform still on.

I continued to press the fake nail on top of mine, with a frown etched on my face. “I might not be here for graduation”

Nova who took off her cover placing it on her side of the room walks back over to me, resting her chin on my head she asks, “What? Why?”

“My financial aid didn't kick in” I look up at her, almost on the verge of tears. “Now I have no idea how to pay for school”

“Eggs” Nova answered bluntly.

I take my right hand wiping away a non-existent tear, I sniffle a little before repeating what she just said to me. “Eggs?”

She nods taking her hand and placing it near my stomach, motioning around my lower half, “Yes like your eggs”

Now I understand what she’s talking about but I thought that was just myth. I press the acrylic nail hard on my nail making sure it's secure, I turn around in my swivel chair away from my desk. Quipped a brow as I look up at Nova, “People pay money for other people's eggs?”

Nova, stepping back from me; grips the edge of the chair rolling her neck replies, “Hell yeah…do you know how many people want babies?”

“So you basically sold kids?”

“Yesenia it's not human trafficking, they are just eggs” She continues. “The money is good plus the feeling you get after looking at the parents faces well that's even better

“Do you know a place?” I ask, I start to paint my nails.

“Yeah I do, but you could also do the other thing…” She trails off while walking into our bathroom I see her grabbing a few makeup remover wipes.

That grabs my attention,“What other thing?”

“Surrogacy”

I turn up my nose, “Like carrying someone else's baby?”

Nova walking out the bathroom changing out of her uniform, “You make more money doing that.”

I mumble while placing the nail polish brush back into the bottle, “I'll think about it”

Nova turns to me, “But if you want to know the place is called Gifting Miracles”

“Thanks” I rise up from the chair, my wet nail polish still on my hands I give Nova a quick air hug.

Rubbing my arm she offered a radiant smile, “Hey you know I got you girl”

Maybe carrying a baby wouldn't be so bad.

A/N: I know this was a really long first chapter but I just wanted this first chapter to be very informative on my different characters. I don’t exactly know when the next chapter of this will be up but I appreciate if ya’ll would be patient with me. Also Happy New year my lovely angels!!! I know 2019 will be filled with happiness and more opportunities coming your way!

[ishipbullshitso]

GONE PT. 2

Also read here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17402030/chapters/40993583

"There is something about you," she spoke confidently behind her chair. He did not reply, but the question lying on his tongue is implied.

"I've read about you and what you have done, but there is something missing. There is so much more that is not on paper." She rises from her chair, stalking closer to him on the other side of the table. He doesn't react to her hands spreading across his chest, nails intentionally digging into his skin. It has been many years since he has reacted in any way to a woman. All that mattered to him was a mission and no budding flower could stop him.

Her red lips brush across his cheek into a firm kiss on his cheek, leaving a crimson mark in its wake. Her teeth drag to his ear, nibbling on the lobe as she seats herself on his lap. This was not a chance of seduction; this was a test. She was testing him and he is passing with flying colors.

"Rest assured," she whispers, "I will find out everything that I want to know."  

Finally, he turns his head to look at her. If he had moved any more, they would have kissed, but it was all intimidation. Before she could react, he wrapped a strong hand around her throat, squeezing enough to cut off air. Her lips parted in fear. He tilts her head up and kisses at her jawline. Just for show.

"You won't find a damn thing about me that I don't want you to know." He shoves her to the ground and walks out of the office. She holds a hand against her throat in shock as the door closes behind him.

"This doesn't sound like him, brother?"

T'Challa knew that if there was one person who he could trust with the letter, it was Shuri. She was, somehow, the person who accepted him the most, despite her shooting him the moment T'Challa let N'Jadaka out of the cage. T'Challa paced around the lab, the words as embedded in his mind as his father's words in the Ancestral Plane (which he already checked to see if N'Jadaka was dead).

It has been 38 days.

"I know it doesn't sound like him. He wouldn't just leave Shuri." She gives him a complex look, unbelieving of even that. T'Challa knows he wouldn't go.

"He was trained-"

"He wouldn't just leave!" He pinches his bridge, frustrated. "I know him better than all of you. He wanted to stay." Shuri says nothing more, rereading the letter for his comfort. T'Challa settles to sit down in a seat, but it doesn't stop the thoughts attacking his brain. All of the possibilities.

Was he kidnapped? If he didn't log in his hours to the watch, then maybe he did have border duty and someone got in? Maybe someone in Oakland died and he saw it on his technology. Maybe he needed to go..

"Why would he address himself as Killmonger? I thought he didn't want to be called that anymore."

"He doesn't. There's got to be some reasoning behind all of this." Shuri walks over to him and places a hand on his shoulder. It feels warm, almost comforting, but T'Challa can't appreciate it as much as he should. "I just want him home."

"I'm sure Mother is happy," Shuri scoffs, "I think I saw her crack a smile when you told her that he is missing. If I didn't know any better, I would think that she was behind all of this."

It was a boiling, the rage that welt up in T'Challa. It's not impossible whatsoever. Queen Mother despises his being and everything he represents. Of course she would be happy that he was gone, especially if she is why he left. T'Challa stands, attempting to swallow down his anger.

"Perhaps I should talk to her." Shuri blinks numerously in her surprise, standing in front of her brother before he can move further. She puts a hand up, bewildered.

"Brother.. you are not considering that-"

"I don't know what happened in the eighteen hours between the time I last saw and when I realized he was gone. Mother is the only one who would truly want him gone. I at least have to ask." T'Challa hates this feeling. The panther beneath his skin has been digging to get out, to show some true vengeance to anyone who would dare to want harm upon N'Jadaka. Shuri's thinking it through, he knows it. Despite his poor mood, nothing cannot be considered at this point, even if it means accusing of his own mother of masterminding his lover's disappearance.

"You know how ugly this can get." Of course he knows, but not a cell in his body is not willing to take the risk. He walks up the spiral before Shuri calls his name again. T'Challa turns to his saddened sister.

"What if.. what if he sent you that letter for a reason? Is it really worth going down the rabbit hole to find him?" T'Challa unclenches his fist, contemplative. He already knows the answer before it leaves his lips and Shuri couldn't have expected a different response.

"He's worth it all."

T'Challa almost runs out of the room, saluting the guards despite the build up of tears in his eyes.

"Is this your idea of changing my view of this damn place? Taking me to a forest ain't it, bruh." T'Challa rolled his eyes and hurried him along the trail. Technically, it was another week before N'Jadaka was even allowed out of his cell. As King, he'll break as many rules as he sees fit for the situation.

"Alright, stop and follow me closely," T'Challa advises, stepping in front of him to guide him through the thick leaves. Wakanda was beautiful beyond compare and as King, he was doing a better job of letting the world see what Wakanda truly is and what they are capable of. The rest of the world thought Wakanda was poor and in need, but N'Jadaka thought Wakanda was poor and in need for a completely reason. How do you reverse the way someone bred themselves to think of their disgusted home?

They hiked another five minutes and in that time, Erik had resolved to gripping the back of his robe and ducking his head to dodge the leaves.

"Nigga if you're going to kill me, go ahead and do it."

"I am not going to kill you! Bast, why would you say that?" N'Jadaka shrugs behind him.

"It's just one of your many options, King." T'Challa knows he only refers to him as King when something bitter is in his mind. He sneers the term out, no matter how much he tries not to for formality. T'Challa is only trying to help him, but sometimes the customs of Wakanda seem to make it worse for the both of them. He shakes the thought away as they finally reach their destination.

The quiet roar of the water becomes louder and they emerge through the trees. N'Jadaka looks around, confused, but T'Challa elects to speak before he can say anything.

"I found this place when I was 13. I used to come here all of the time when I was stressed. I built a small hut over there," T'Challa points to the nearly invisible house, "for when I wanted to get away for a while. Come." N'Jadaka follows T'Challa acrosses the shallow of the waterfall to the hut. It had obviously went through some renovations before their trip here today, obviously by the hand of T'Challa. N'Jadaka had a feeling no one else knew about this place.

"So you never took Nakia here when you wanted some one-on-one time?"

"Nakia had made it very clear a long time ago that she has no intention of being my queen. It just took me a long to accept that." T'Challa replies as he opens the door. It had all of the necessities were here for living. A bed, a small "kitchen," a hallway leading to a bathroom in the back. The place was stocked in food. "And no, this place was just for me."

"Then why did you show me then?" T'Challa tossed him a water bottle, which N'Jadaka caught easily, chugging it down in a couple of gulps. T'Challa watches a couple of drop drip from the sides of his mouth, then remembers his place and looks away. It isn't unseen by the war criminal, who suppresses a smile behind the bottle.

"I assumed you wouldn't want to live anywhere near people anytime soon, so I thought-"

"That you would give me your old play house?" T'Challa drags out a heavy breath, thinking this was a horrid idea. N'Jadaka sits on the bed, one leg raised. He presents his teeth, the gold reflecting off of the outside line shining through. "I thought I still had a week left."

"You do," T'Challa replies, "I wanted you to have options since I can't let you leave, and I know that you want to leave and if I could-" N'Jadaka laughs, low, but it is enough to cut the king off once again.

"Just shut up. I'm fine being in a palace or whatnot. It gives me some satisfaction that they still have to deal with me despite all of this shit." T'Challa nods and motions for him to come on so they can leave.

"Hey, King," N'Jadaka waits for him to turn around, "am I really worth all this effort you're putting into me?"

For the first time, N'Jadaka looked like he wanted that answer, like he needed to hear some sort of confirmation. T'Challa knew his perspective of N'Jadaka was changing from the constant interactions to purposely makes with him. It's changing into something T'Challa needs to cut off before it reaches a point of no return.

"You're worth more than your life led you to believe you was worth, N'Jadaka. Come, we have to sneak you back in before Okoye realizes you're gone."

"Oh shit, let's go. That woman hurts like a bitch." They don't talk any more on the way back, not that they needed to. Their minds were in different places, content in their own thoughts.

T'Challa knew that wasn't what he wanted to say, but he can't afford to say any more than what he did say. It was sufficient enough for N'Jadaka, though.

"How dare you ask me such a thing." Ramonda places a hand at her chest, leaning back in her chair. T'Challa stands tall, proud, eyes focused solely on his mother. "If I wanted the boy gone, I'd tell him myself."

"You have yet to speak a word to him since the day he threw me off of Warrior Falls years ago. He is my lover and all you've done is tell me how much you hate him, and now he is gone and you want me to think that you have absolutely no part in it." Queen Mother glares at her son, their prides battling each other in the way they speak.

"Do you even know what that boy has done? Who he is?" T'Challa almost rolls his eyes.

"Mother, I've memorized his file by memory and I know him better than anyone in-" Queen Mother smacks her hand on the table.

"Wrong! You don't know everything. I've done research into your bed warmer and he is not all that he seems." Ramonda gets up and walks down the hall to her room, T'Challa following closely. There is no way that she could have found out more about him.

"Who have you contacted?" She opens a drawer and shoves a file his way. A paper file?

"It matters not. Your consort has a darker past than you think." T'Challa opens the file. It's N'Jadaka in images and reports with classified marked in red on top of the file. Except his name isn't Erik Stevens as his alias. It's Isaiah Malachi Robinson. He closes the file, electing to read more later. What matters is his mother.

"Who did you get this from? Tell me at once!" Ramonda backs away from T'Challa.

"I don't know. I asked for someone to give me more on him since he decided he was going to sex his way back to the throne and they dropped it off at the border."

"You're telling me you got a secret file on N'Jadaka and you have no idea who they are or what they are a part of? Do you realize you could've put Wakanda in danger? Do you realize you could've put N'Jadaka in danger?" T'Challa is all but yelling at this point, pacing around the room. Queen Mother glares and drives a finger into his chest.

"If you hadn't opened your legs for a snake, I wouldn't need to put anyone in danger." He shakes his head and turns away from her, angered.

"If he is in danger and it is because you dug in grounds you had no right to be in, I will not hesitate to come after you when this is done." She gasps, reaching for him, but he denies the gesture. "You know, all he wanted was to be accepted by you. He tried to be good for you and all you do is treat him like he is nothing. You are wrong." T'Challa walks right out of the door with the file in his hand. Queen Mother doesn't call for him to come back.

T'Challa doesn't expect her to, either.

Isaiah Malachi Robinson

Age: Classified

Race: Classified

Profession: Classified

How could N'Jadaka not tell him about this? This isn't military and this isn't when he worked for Klaue. T'Challa scans the images of his lover. He hates the fact that it gives him comfort to see those images. In some, he is smiling and surrounded by other people carrying weapons like his. In others, his face is battered, his body covered in wounds that T'Challa barely noticed across his bronzed skin.

What was he into?

"Operation: Mwokozi" Savior? Swahili? He's been in Africa this whole time and no one knew.

T'Challa wants to be upset. N'Jadaka never told him about this or even hinted that he was involved anywhere in Africa until he walked right into Wakanda. He wants to be mad, but he knows he's not going to stop. He can't.

Isaiah Robinson was in Ethiopia. He knows Ethiopia and he knows the Rift Valley in the background. He was there. Right under his nose, N'Jadaka was here all along.

T'Challa begins to pack, calling Shuri via the Kimoyo beads.

"Brother."

"I am going to find him and I'm starting in Ethiopia. You've got to take over while I am gone."

"Ethiopia? What did Mother-"

"She found something out and it may mean he is in trouble."

"Just keep me updated!"

"If I can," T'Challa turns off the communication and lifts the bag.

The step onto the plane doesn't feel like a confident stride into finding N'Jadaka.

It feels like he has no idea where the hell N'Jadaka is going to lead him, but he has to try.

He'd give anything to find him.

WHERE DO YOU THINK N’JADAKA IS?? 

[sickandtideeeee]

By Bast - Chapter 5 (Erik x Reader)

I know this probably wasn’t worth the wait lmao but I hope you guys enjoy! 

Erik N’Jadaka Stevens sat patiently, still enough that if it weren’t for the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed deeply, one could have mistaken him for a wax figure. Quiet and calm he appeared, as he sat on the throne of the cousin he had so cleanly deposed. Yet the storm raging within was undeniable. Erik was, for the first time of his life since he had vowed to take revenge on the family that abandoned him, unsure of his next move.

This uncertainty was obviously unrelated to his plan for world domination – that was clear cut. He had already announced his plan to the Border Tribe general, W’Kabi - they would deliver weapons to all parts of the world where his kin were being mistreated. The best part is he wouldn’t even bother taking time out of his day to talk to rebel leaders. A quick drop-off of high-tech tools of destruction without any guidance or restriction would lead to just the type of anarchy he needed for a paradigm shift. True leaders knew how to seize an opportunity, and he would be the orchestrator of it all. He would let the whole world burn and build it up from the ashes to his liking.

Yet however smoothly his mission had gone according to plan, he couldn’t shake how unsettled he was by that single person - a woman, no less. Never for a moment had he ever been moved by anything of a woman, whether it was a pretty face, a voluptuous body, or a bright, cheerful smile. In fact, he often preferred when his obstacles were women, for he found them terribly easy to manipulate. A little kernel of attention here, a small act of kindness there. Add in a smile, and they would bend over backwards for him.

Somehow, this wildly insignificant woman had impressed on him more than anyone as unremarkable as she was should have the power to. Maybe it was the fact that when she gazed into his eyes that first day in the throne room, he had felt the world stand still for just a split second. Despite having easily pushed her aside to carry out his mission, the moment he was left to his own thoughts in his holding cell, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. When she appeared with one of the Dora guards, he quickly realized why.

She was the woman in the dream he had the night he first heard Bast.

Erik had been tidying up the aftermath of one of his last kills before he had planned to execute Klaue, his key to the Wakandan border. Removal of evidence for him had become so routine that he often let his mind wander from the task at hand while he covered his tracks. What would he eat tonight? Did he remember to unload the dishwasher? He had a girl at home who threatened to leave every time he was out late, a pretty but more importantly, loyal woman named Linda. He smirked at the sheer thought of her leaving – all he had to do was lay some strategic pipe and she’d clean his slate, again and again and again…

Must you continue to thirst for blood like this?

Erik turned abruptly to survey his surroundings, only to stare into unperturbed darkness. The fact that the soft whisper seemed to have originated from inside his head rather than outside would have unnerved anyone, but the average person wasn’t neatly folding a full-grown human body into a bag to be dissolved in a barrel of acid. After a short pause to tune his ears into any new sounds, Erik swung his load over his shoulder and continued on his way home, deciding whatever he had heard had just been a figment of imagination.

He slipped quietly into bed only a few hours later besides the girlfriend he would later shoot dead at a moment’s notice, now asleep and unquestioning of his whereabouts. He had by necessity never been a sound sleeper but that night he was overcome by a slumber as deep as the grave.

When he awoke, he was somewhere otherworldly to the say the least. As a man who rarely dreamt, he wondered if this qualified as a phantom trip. He wasn’t much of a stoner, but you couldn’t always trust what was in the weed these days.

Off in the distance, he saw a figure comfortably laid against a tree, sitting cross-legged on the grass, her head immersed in a book. Odd.

Before he could call out to her for a clue to wherever the hell he was, a pressure started to build in his ears, as though he were suddenly twenty thousand feet in the air. Then one bodiless voice, the same as the one he had heard during his waking hours, appeared to split into two, and both assaulted his ears at once. In one ear, the same voice was harsh, grating, furious; the other, smooth and sweet.

He deserves revenge! He has no obligation for mercy! He carries out my will, I have imbued him with the rage he needs!

He needs love! He needs compassion! He facilitates his own destruction, let him seek the healing he deserves!

He’s powerful and destructive, Bast!

He’s suffering, Sekhmet!

The voices became progressively louder and unintelligible as they argued, until he was brought to his knees, eyes closed, hands clasped over his ears. Soon, he too was screaming in pain as he felt his eardrums tear. Then as he felt a hand gently press on his shoulder, the voices vanished. He looked up to see you smile wide and reassuringly at him. You introduced yourself with your birth name, and he committed it to memory. Y/N.

Let her heal your heart, Bast said to him. He had awoken fazed, but the thought of someone trying to change him laughable. You wouldn’t be the first woman who tried.

When you finally presented yourself to the new king as composed yet stone-faced as only a person who had begun to accept tremendous loss could, Erik realized how pretentious his thoughts were. You couldn’t care less about fixing him, you were too preoccupied with ensuring he didn’t break you.

Okoye escorted you by the arm into the room, her hand gripping just a little too tight. She released you, bowed to the abomination now ruling the country, and left the room. You just barely heard her scoff. Before the throne you stood catatonically, eyes lowered to the King’s sandals.

“I heard you were causing some trouble last night.” N’Jadaka smirked, the need to dispel the uncomfortable silence underlying his voice. You refused to look him in the eye, and responded only with silence.

“Sit the fuck down.” he demanded, the trickster cadence to his voice now gone. He wouldn’t tolerate that same level of disrespect you’d shown before a second time. You considered a small act of resistance, but were despondent enough that you lacked the energy to struggle against his will. Before the throne, you noticed a low table set up with two plates and a pair of utensils for both. You knelt obediently on the large pillow closest to your side of the table, and N’Jadaka approached from the throne and sat cross-legged opposite from you.

The moment your eyes met, you visualized yourself plunging the fork at your right-hand side deep into his neck. Maybe if you were lucky, you would be able to get the internal jugular, and watch him bleed out. Yet, you banished the image and kept your expression neutral and effaced. Servants quickly ran in and out setting food and drink between the two of you, and you felt one too many curious glances as they delivered dishes. The palace would soon be teeming with yet more fodder for Okoye’s misplaced suspicions. A temple maid consorting with the new king?

“Eat.” N’Jadaka commanded. You hesitated. The last thing you wanted to do was share a meal with your father’s murderer, but before you could start another internal monologue, he grabbed you abruptly by the chin across the table, dragging you to him. You let out a small gasp of surprise as the cutlery on the table clattered but did not shatter or drop.

“I’m not about to repeat myself.” He barked, face only inches apart from yours, essentially repeating himself. As he let go of your face, settling back into his seat with his arms crossed, the skin of your cheeks stung, but fear never set in. Rather, your stomach growled audibly, and your mind drifted to the red stain you had stared at all night. You quietly stuffed a fried dough beignet in your mouth and chased it with a spoonful of beans. Soon your treacherous hunger intensified, and you ate appetitively. You were surprised you could eat given your whole life had fallen apart – but such was the power of that supernatural calm.

N’Jadaka watched you carefully as you scarfed down the meal as though you had never seen food before, he himself abstaining from the meal. When you finally reached for the pot of coffee in the center of the table, he cleared his throat.

“You ready to talk now?”

You looked up to him, arm extended and cocked your head to the side incredulously.

“What do you expect me to say?” You replied, flatly. Thanks for feeding me? Thanks for the medical attention? Or the imprisonment, the murder of my father, the overhaul of my country, the list goes on...

The muscles in N’Jadaka’s neck tensed. He hadn’t expected an answer like that, but he couldn’t deny he set himself up for it. He let out a deep breath, and stretched his bulky arms out across the table. You withdrew again, instinctively, but this time he didn’t reach for you. He rolled his shoulders back again and relaxed back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. He sighed again deeply.

“You know, you really got a mouth on you. Like damn, do all y’all Wakandan bitches talk like this?” He sounded more annoyed than angry, yet you looked at him warily, and then to the rest of your surroundings. The servants had long since filed out of the room and you realized the two of you were alone. You became both nervous and impatient. Your stomach was full, your heart was empty, you needed out.

“What do you want from me?” You asked, reticently.

In his mind’s eye, Erik recalled how you had suddenly rushed him at Warrior Falls, and as he turned, his short spear had pierced cleanly into you like a knife into butter. He recalled how you clasped your hands around the spear, and staring straight at him, the whites of your eyes had rolled back into your head, lips mouthing words that seemed less like expletives but primordial curses. His body had frozen still as you collapsed once you had exhausted that last burst of strength, disarmed enough that T’Challa had enough time to place him in a headlock. Rather than hearing his cousin telling him to yield, all surrounding sound had faded and all he heard was Bast give him a warning: Either you spare her, or you doom yourself.

He had thought of disposing of your body the same way he did T’Challa, but as he approached you, the words seared themselves repetitively in his head over and over again. Now you sat before him and Erik truly did not have the slightest idea what to do with you. Yet he was too, dare he say it, afraid to get rid of you.

You were patiently waiting on a response, and the very fact that you expected him to answer to you irked N’Jadaka to no end.

“I’ll ask the questions here, not you. Got that shit?” he said, rising from his seat. As if on cue, the servants rushed back into the room to clear the table.

“Get the fuck out. I’ll summon you again when I feel like it.” He said.

Something compelled you to keep pressing on.

“I understand, and I say this loosely, what your problem was with-“ you watched him tense up again, “the former prince, but what exactly was your vendetta against my father?” You asked insistently, rising to your feet, despite the two Dora who had appeared by your side to escort you away from the King.

The look he gave you was one full of contempt.

"You mean Uncle James?”

Uncle what?

N’Jadaka rose to his feet as well, waving his warriors back, and stepped to you again. “You know, that nigga was the last person I was thinking about coming to this place, but the idea of this motherfucker running around having some bitch calling him pops after that shit he pulled.…”

He balled his hands up into fists, but then clasped his hands together, flashing one of his trademark sadistic smiles.

“I don’t want to hear about that nigga again, got it?” He paused to let those words sink in, then continued. “Like for real, if I hear about ‘your father’ again, Imma have you executed. You’ve been getting too many chances from me so far, babygirl.”

This time the mischievous lilt in his voice barely covered the fact that his tone was the most deadly it had been since the first time he spoke to you. He gave you a patronizing pat on the head.

“Now if you calm down and don’t cause any trouble, I’ll find a good use for you.”

And with that, a whole new set of layers were added to your confusion. Little did you know, N’Jadaka was as lost as you were, too.

Tagging:  @syndrlla97@iwantsomethingeternal@1killmonger@chasingsunlight @hoopshoney@destinio1 @wakanda-inspired @thadelightfulone @lalasparkles @pessimisfit @youreadthatright  @stark-red19, @ruruly20, @bossyboyd03, @autumn242 @heybriheyyy@ thelovelyliterary

[Prologue][Chapter One][Chapter Two][Chapter Three][Chapter Four][Chapter Six][Chapter Seven][Chapter Eight]

[screamingatanemptyroom]

The Hero Trap

The following is a short story I wrote in response to a prompt idea sent to me by @sockknitteranon regarding twisting the typical “choose between the your girlfriend and random innocent civilian” scenario in super hero stories. Thank you for the suggestion! I really really hope you like what I wrote for it! 

The plan was perfect.

One of the most well-known, feared super villains in the city waited patiently for his adversary to arrive. Every piece of his elaborate trap was in place. All that was left was for the hero to show up.

“Why did you lure me here, fiend? I will protect the city from your evil plots!” The Hero’s voice was proud and sure, carrying well across the large trap chamber. 

The Villain smiled. Now he had the Hero right where he wanted him. He cracked his knuckles and stretched, chuckling grimly to himself. This was his favorite part. 

“Now.”

Quiet, barely over a whisper, the Villain’s voice somehow seemed louder than the Hero’s brazen shout.  At his command the barred door slammed shut, sealing the Hero in the trap chamber, and with a reluctant flicker, floodlights turned on, revealing the true nature of the Hero’s predicament.

“You see, Hero, I’ve been expecting you.” The Villain gestured grandly to the center of the large room where two struggling figures hung suspended in metal cages. Below the cages sat a vat of toxic sludge, its luminescent green contents slowly melting the solid iron container that held it. Even from the distance he stood it was hard to look at, but it fulfilled its role of appearing sinister, as well as a credible threat to the lives of the people hanging above it.

“You claim to have such wonderful morals, but forgive me sir, if I feel the need to put them to the test.” The Villain mocked his adversary with a sarcastic bow, before turning back to look at the cages above.

“In cage number one we have the beautiful love of your life, Ms Clarice Whitling. A renowned scientist with a heart of gold and the looks of a supermodel.” The woman in question struggled against the bonds holding her hands and feet, and tried to shout something past the gag bound across her mouth. “Now, now, patience Ms. Whitling. You will get your turn to talk… depending on lover boy’s decision.”

“YOU HEARTLESS SCOUNDREL!” The Hero’s face was red with anger, “SHE BELONGS TO ME!”

The Villain raised an eyebrow at the choice of words and smiled as he heard a dissatisfied jumble of noises from the first cage. “I’ll let you work out your relationship issues with your partner in your own time, Hero. I still have to tell you about cage #2!”

The figure in the second cage was quiet, although she still tugged against her bonds like the first captive. Her eyes though told a different story. A piercing gaze, struck him, and for a brief moment he felt a pang of regret before continuing the introduction.

“Our second contestant is an innocent civilian, Ms…” He checked the card his henchman had handed him, “Erica Slade. She’s a plucky young woman who devotes her time to charity, helps the homeless and the elderly, and works as a kindergarten school teacher.” He winced, feeling slightly remorseful at her capture.

“And that is where the true dilemma comes in, Hero. You can only save one. The woman you love, but keep in mind that she’s the one who chose to enter into a relationship with you knowing you were a hero, knowing that it put her at risk for attacks like this.”

“BAST…”  

“Or…” The Villain interrupted the Hero mid-profanity, “You can save this stranger, a young, innocent woman who has nothing to do with all of this. She is the very representation of what you swore to protect.” The Villain walked closer, now only a few feet away. “What will you do, Hero? Will you be selfish and protect your own interests? Will you throw away the woman you love to uphold your ideals?” He pressed a button, and both cages moved slowly down towards the glowing green vat.

The Villain studied his opponent’s face carefully. Now was the crucial moment of the plan. He had to convince the Hero that both women were in mortal danger, thus pushing the love vs duty choice upon him.  In reality, cages were wired to drop just to the side of the vat at the last moment, neither would be harmed, but by then hopefully the damage would be done. The Hero would be trapped in a mental and moral puzzle of his own making, unable to save either. He would be destroyed as a hero.

The Hero stared blankly at the moving cages, his face strangely blank of emotion. The Villain was glad that he was the one in control, if it were him standing there, having to choose between two innocent peoples lives… well it was impossible, it made him grateful that he was the villain in the room.

“Let the freak die.” 

The flat, short statement sounded wrong, it took the Villain a moment to register the words. He paused the cages descent,  staring at the Hero in confusion.

“What did you say?”

“I said let that cripple die.” He pointed up at the second cage impatiently. The Villain followed the direction he indicated, studying his captive more carefully. Her hands were bound, but the rope was tied around her thighs, instead of her ankles. When he looked closer he noted it was because her left leg ended just above the knee. She leaned against the wall for support, uncomfortable. Two metal structures leaned against the side of the cage. Forearm crutches. He noted with a sigh.

The Hero wasn’t done talking. “People like that are just a drain on resources anyways. They are worthless, taking handouts from healthy people and not contributing anything to society.” His voice was dismissive, he looked up at the woman like she was something less than human. “Better off dead, if you ask me. So return my beautiful girlfriend, kill the trash and I’ll be on my way.”

The Villain looked up at Ms. Slade again, his ears ringing strangely and his vision blurry. He could still make out her face, at the last thing he remembered before everything went dark was the expression there, clear despite the gag covering her mouth: It wasn’t anger at the Hero’s betrayal, or fear for her own death. It was a tired resignation. It was the look of a woman who had expected to be told she was worthless.

He was ten, living at an underfunded orphanage for cast offs like him. The other kids beat up on Jack, his friend, because he has trouble saying words clearly. They ignore the girl who looks different than them; steal things from the child that walks with a cane. They laugh and make faces at the little boy who shares his room, who couldn’t see. All of this was done under the watchful and approving eyes of the adults, as they snickered behind their hands and pretended there was nothing they could do. The powerful grew more powerful and the weak and different shrunk and became resigned. That was when he learned the only lesson they bothered to teach at this facility:

Never trust the authorities.

He was a foolish man, an evil man sometimes. He made no excuses for his behavior, he knew what he was. But the ones who pretended to be heroes, the ones who said they cared about everyone when all they saw were people who looked and spoke like them… they were even more horrible in his eyes.

The Villain came to, realizing that he had jumped on top of the Hero, punching him repeatedly in the face. There was anger and frustration behind each attack, adding weight to his fist. But there was something else, some dark hidden sadness bubbling behind the fiery anger. Tears streamed down his face as he slowly got up, leaving the hero broken and bloody on the floor.

“The only trash I see here is you.” He took his remote out, pushing several buttons, which lowered the cages to the ground. His minions got to work releasing Ms. Whitling, while he quickly moved forward to cut the ropes holding Ms. Slade hostage. He freed her, and handed her crutches to her silently.

“I’m sorry.” 

SLAP! Her hand cracked across his face with a loud noise. She sighed loudly, glaring up at him.

“That’s for kidnapping me and threatening to drop me in toxic waste, idiot!”

The Villain nodded slowly, he supposed he deserved that much.  To his surprise she leaned forward gave him a quick kiss on the cheek she just slapped. “And that’s for beating the crap out of that jerk over there.”

She moved passed him, leaving him staring off silently at the now empty cage, shocked.

“Clarice!” The hero’s voice sounded odd with his bloody nose and broken jaw, but he called out to his girlfriend as clearly as he could. The woman in question quickly walked up, her red heels clicking on the floor beneath her.

STOMP! The Hero screeched at clutched at his crotch, where Ms. Whitling had just ground the heel of her shoe into.

“We’re breaking up, you worthless scum.” She glared at him for a few extra moments, before marching towards her fellow captive. “Erica, was it? So sorry that he spoke to you like that, please ignore him.”

Ms. Slade smiled and waved an arm. “ Oh believe me, he’s ignored.”

“Great! Let’s go get coffee.” They moved together towards the door, and once they reached the locked metal gate turned to face me.

“Unless you want to continue to detain us?” The Villain shuddered at Ms. Whitling’s cheerful voice, wincing at the thought of facing any more of either woman’s wrath. He pressed the button, which opened the gate.

“I thought so.” They started to leave.

“Wait…” he called out without thinking. With both of them staring again he started to stutter. “I mean… I’m sorry I kidnapped you two… um… if you guys ever need any help, just let me know.”

Ms. Slade laughed. “You want to join us for coffee?”

He stared at her in shock. “Really?! Can I ? I...I would be honored.”

With that the three of them headed out to drink coffee. The Villain wasn’t sure what to expect from here on out, but no matter what, it was sure to be interesting.

[iwillbeinmynest]

An Owed Debt- Bucky x May(oc)  Chapter 3

Authors notes: So, I understand that this isn’t an incredibly popular fic but I’m really having fun writing this so It’s definitely happening. I hope you grow to enjoy it the way I already have. :) 

Notes/Warnings: Teenaged angst, Stress, (very brief) mentions of blood work and needles.

Bucky fought against the sand bag for nearly two hours after May finished the dishes. He was sure he had ruined any chances of getting to know her better when he pointed his gun at her. How could he have been so careless. Rule one: be aware of your surroundings. Well, at least she didn’t cry at that.

 He cleaned up the living room and grabbed his head phones. He stopped at Mays door and knocked lightly.

 “May? I’m going for a run. You gonna be okay by your self for a while?” He asked as he ran his fingers through his now sweaty hair.

 May swung the door open wide, surprising Bucky. “Can I join you?” She asked genuinely.

 “Uh,” Bucky was taken back and had to blink a few times before he could regain his composure. “I mean, I run kind of fast. I don’t know if you can…keep up.”

 May’s face fell slightly. “Oh, yeah, sure. Of course, it was dumb, sorry. Enjoy your run.” May backed up to close her door when Bucky stuck his hand out and stopped her.

 “I guess, because I had a longer session with Pete, I could take a slow jog tonight.” He said reluctantly.

 May blinked a few times and her face scrunched up. “I’m sorry, who’s Pete?”

 Bucky didn’t realize he had said that out loud. “Oh, it’s the dummy. The red one shaped like a guy. Steve named him, it, not me. You wanna run or not?”

 May suppressed a grin and nodded. “Yeah, let me change real quick.”

 “’Kay.” Was all Bucky got out before the door was closed in his face again. Bucky went to the kitchen and grabbed an extra water bottle for May. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to this run but he wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to apologize for bringing up her mom earlier.

 Doing this for Monty, he reminded himself.

 May emerged from her room in leggings, a long sleeved shirt and trainers. Her music was already basting from her headphones and she nodded his direction. Bucky wiggled a finger at his ear and raised his eye brows. May pulled the ear buds out with a roll of her eyes.

 “Yeah?”

 “You gonna stretch first?” Buck asked.

 “Right.” She put her ear buds back and waited for Bucky to lead the warm up.

 After a silent stretch, Bucky handed her the water bottle he pulled for her and she followed him out the door. They ran down the stairs and out the door onto the gently buzzing streets. New York City was overwhelming most of the time and the night didn’t ever seem to slow down, but Bucky knew the best route to take to encounter the least amount of people.

 May’s eyes darted around at this unfamiliar territory. She tried to focus on Bucky and not the anxiety that threatened to creep up. She turned her volume up another few notches and fixed her eyes on the bounce of Bucky’s deep brown hair.

 Bucky looked back at May to make sure she wasn’t too far behind and was surprised to find her as close as she was. Who was this kid? Bucky was running slow but to an average person it was still pretty fast, not super soldier fast but enough that he was impressed that she was keeping up.

 “Not bad.” May heard him say when he turned his head back. May turned to volume up higher, almost painfully so. How was she still hearing him? She just wanted a quiet run. Was that too much to ask for?

 May’s lungs began to tighten and she knew she was reaching her limit. She ran just fast enough to tap Bucky’s shoulder and jerk her thumb backwards. Bucky nodded and Slowed to a stop before jogging back the direction her came.

 “It’s farther than I thought she’d get.”

 May grunted and ripped the ear bubs from the sides of her face. “Can you not? You know I can hear you, right?”

 Bucky stopped and looked at her like she had lost her mind. “What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything.”

 May rolled her eyes. “Can we just go back to your place, please?”

 Bucky shook his head and shifted his weight. What was with this kid? “Yeah,” He said curtly. “Sure.”

 They both ran faster than before, ready to be separated from the other. When they approached the door to his building Bucky kept running, leaving her alone on the side walk.

 May ascended the stairs slowly, her legs already weak from the run back. She breathed through her nose to try and control the ache in her lungs and after the third flight she was able to inhale with out a cramp in her side. She used the key Steve had given her to open the door and she locked it behind her. She had half a mind to put the chain on the door too but he would probably break in anyways.

 No matter what she did, she couldn’t figure this man out. He took her in but didn’t want her here and then he belittled her on the run and left her when they got back. Screw this, she thought, I don’t care. May connected her music to her Bluetooth speaker so she could hear it while she took a cold shower. She shivered under the shower head and tried to only focus on the electronic beat of her music.

 “I hate you.” She heard and she squeezed her eyes shut. Oh no, It was starting again. What time was it? 11:45 pm. Yep, that’s about right.

 “Go do it yourself!”

 “I wish you were more like your sister.”

 “I want to throw that stupid X-Box out the window!” The voices suddenly flooded her mind and she winced, squeezing her head.

 “Shut up!” She screamed. She hurried out of the shower and got dressed. She put her head phones back in and cranked up the volume to a deafening level. But no matter how loud or high-pitched her music got, she could still make out the sounds of dozens of voices shouting and screaming at her.

———————————————————————————-

 Bucky ran farther than he ever had. All the way from his apartment to the Avenger’s Tower. He was breathing heavy when the elevator opened up to Steve’s floor.

 “Buck, what are you doing here? Where’s May? Is everything okay?” Steve asked with furrowed brows upon seeing his best friend out of breath and sweaty

 “She’s fine, I think.” Bucky rolled his eyes as he brushed past Steve and headed to his massive kitchen for a glass of water. “I left her at my place.”

 “Left her? Bucky she’s just a -”

 “This was a mistake, Steve.” Bucky cut in. “You need to relocate her now. I can’t keep her at my place anymore.”

 “What happened?” Steve prodded. He crossed his arms and leaned against a counter.

 Bucky shook his head. “I don’t know. She just hates me. She snaps at me or bursts into tears and I’m not even sure what i’m doing wrong half the time.”

 “She hasn’t even been with you fro twenty-four hours, Buck. Just give it some time.” Steve smirked. He misunderstood Bucky’s discomfort for anxiety.

 “Do I talk to myself?” Bucky asked abruptly.

 Steve looked at him curiously but went on to answer. “No, not that I’ve ever heard.”

 “What about in my sleep?”

 “No.” Steve shook his head and widened his stance. “You scream on occasion but you don’t really talk. Why? What does this have to do with May?

  Bucky set his empty glass down and looked Steve in the eyes. “Something’s off about her. She keeps telling me to be quiet when I don’t say anything.”

 “I told you her dad was experimented on by Hydra and we don’t know what she can do yet.” Steve explained.

 “I think I can help with that.” Tony sauntered in, tablet in hand, with Wanda behind him.

 “You finish the tests?” Steve asked.

 Tony nodded and wiggled the tablet back and forth. Wanda stepped out from behind him. “How about I save us the rant and put it plainly?” She smirked Tony’s way. He pouted, clearly loving his scientific monologues but shrugged it off.

 “I suppose it would be a waist of my time.” Tony grinned and Wanda rolled her eyes.

 “What can she do?” Steve pressed, a small wave of urgency in his tone.

 “Let me put it like this. She’s like me only much simpler. She can hear other peoples thoughts. But that’s all. She can’t send thoughts or manipulate the mind and she doesn’t have this.” Wanda lifted her fingers and wiggled them through the red electric haze.

 “So, she’s-” Steve started.

 “A one way radio.” Tony smirked. “Hardly a threat.”

 Bucky shook his head, “So, she’s hearing my thoughts?”

 “A person projects their thoughts sometimes with out knowing it.” Wanda started. “If someone is overly emotional, tired or inhibited, say by drugs or alcohol, the persons thoughts become louder and if she hasn’t learned to control this she wont be able to keep them out.”

 “According to my tests,” Tony added. “She’s fairly new to all of this. She’s been hearing things for, probably, a few months at most.”

 “So, she has no clue we know.” Steve shook his head.

 “As far as she knows, the blood samples I took were just to make sure she’s healthy. Which she is, by the way.” Tony smiled.

 “So, when does she get a new place to stay?” Bucky asked.

 “Not for a while, I’m afraid.” Tony scrolled through his tablet, not looking at the super soldier as he spoke and very clearly not ‘afraid’ for Bucky’s discomfort. “She still needs to be monitored and you’re still the best person for the job. Four weeks tops.”

 “Two.” Bucky countered.

 “Three,” Tony looked up. “And I’ll buy you new boxing equipment.”

 Bucky clenched his jaw and nodded. He filled up his water bottle and headed towards the elevator, ready for another run back home.

 “Don’t forget, Buck,” Steve caught up to him while he waited by the metal doors. “She doesn’t know we know and she’s just a kid.”

 “No promises, I can’t tell you I won’t think about it.” Bucky stared blankly at the elevator doors, already deep in thought.

 “For Monty, okay?” Steve stood in front of him to meet his eyes.

 “For Monty.”

Forever tags: @heismyhunter @beccaanne814-blog @tatortot2701 @pickledmoon@whimsicalrebirth @marvel-lucy @thisisthelilith @james-bionic-barnes@thedreamingowl @poemwriter98 @kimistry27 @annie-lujan @buckyandsebsinbin @lilasiannerd @gypsy-storm-15 @cassiopeiassky

An Owed Debt Tags: @17sullivan @themistsofmyavalon