#wakandans

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #13

Danny Fenton never asked to be king. High King, actually. Supreme Sovereign Overlord of the Infinite Realms, Master of Time, Space, and Everything Between. Whatever. Clockwork said the job came with responsibilities, like cosmic balance and interdimensional peace and setting a good example for the lesser ghosts, but Danny’s idea of diplomacy was giving Skulker a wedgie and sending him flying into a hellmouth. Which, according to Clockwork, was “not sustainable inter-realm policy.” So now here he was, eighteen years old, king of all things weird and glowy, and being told he needed to “forge political relations” with Earth governments.

“Pick one realm,” Clockwork had said with his usual serene smugness, swirling his time staff like he was a magical baton twirler at the Ghost Macy’s Parade. “Start with a sovereign nation. Establish diplomatic rapport. You are a king now. Act like it.”

Danny considered going to Canada, because he heard they had maple syrup and weren’t really into starting fights, but then Frostbite suggested Wakanda. “A hidden, technologically advanced kingdom,” Frostbite boomed with a fang-filled smile. “They are isolated yet powerful. A worthy first partner.”

And that’s how Danny Phantom, ghost king of the afterlife, showed up in Wakanda in his full royal regalia—ripped jeans, a NASA hoodie, and glowing white hair that he had half-heartedly tried to tame with ectoplasm gel. His crown—which he insisted was optional—hovered behind his head like a haunted hula hoop. The Wakandan guards were not impressed. One of them tried to spear him on sight.

“HI!” Danny shouted, floating three feet off the ground to avoid being stabbed. “I come in peace! And also kind of by accident! I may have ripped a hole in your sky barrier. Sorry!”

They dragged him to Shuri.

Princess Shuri was not having a good week. Some idiot on the Council of Elders tried to propose to her again, a hyena broke into her lab and stole a vibranium gauntlet, and now there was a glowing white boy hovering upside down in her throne room claiming to be the King of Ghosts.

“You,” she said, pointing a very sharp finger at him, “are either the most powerful being in the multiverse or the dumbest man I’ve ever met.”

Danny, still upside down, squinted at her. “I can be both. It’s called multitasking.”

Shuri blinked. Then laughed. Then immediately regretted laughing because Danny took it as a sign they were friends.

He followed her around like a lost ectoplasmic puppy for three days, asking questions like, “Do you believe in ghosts?” and “If your vibranium works on sound frequencies, does that mean you could weaponize my ghost wail and make, like, a portable banshee cannon?” and “Do you wanna ride my haunted dinosaur?”

Shuri didn’t know what to do with him. He was infuriating. He phased through walls. He reorganized her lab equipment by vibe. He called her nanobot swarm “glowy spiders.” He kept summoning ghost animals to show her like a toddler bringing frogs into the kitchen. At one point he tried to court her with a bouquet of screaming flowers from the Nightmare Zone. They bit her. She threw them in the incinerator. He pouted for an hour and sulked on the ceiling.

Somehow, this only made him more endearing.

Because sure, he was a pain in the ass, but he was also… genuine. And weirdly charming. He made her laugh when she wanted to scream. He made her guards nervous, which was hilarious. He helped her reboot a broken AI system by whispering ghost gibberish into its processor. It worked. Nobody knew why. Not even Danny.

And then there was the incident at the United Nations.

Danny, trying to prove he could be a good king and a solid diplomatic partner, insisted on attending a meeting with Shuri in New York. He wore a suit. The suit burst into flames five minutes in because he forgot he couldn’t suppress his ecto-core for more than an hour without leaking nuclear-level ghost juice. He tried to cover it up by summoning a clone to sit in his chair while he phased under the table to cool off in spectral form. Unfortunately, his clone started ranting about how France smelled like bread ghosts and threatened to annex Canada “in the name of spooky justice.”

Shuri had to drag him out of the UN by the collar of his glowing cape.

Back in Wakanda, after the global scandal of the “Ghost King’s Toasted Clone Uprising,” Danny was sulking on a floating chair, eating ice cream straight from the tub and accidentally freezing the spoon with his aura.

“I’m never doing politics again,” he declared, face half-smeared with mint chocolate chip.

“You are literally a king,” Shuri reminded him, arms crossed. “You have to do politics.”

“Then I abdicate. I leave the Ghost Realms to my dog, Cujo. He’ll make treaties with slobbery kisses and head pats.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” Shuri sighed, snatching his spoon and dipping it into the tub. “A glowing, interdimensional, mint-breathed drama queen.”

Danny perked up. “Did you just share my ice cream? Is this a bonding moment?”

“No.”

“It feels like a bonding moment.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m just saying, if I died again right now, I’d die happy.”

“You’re already dead.”

“Exactly. That’s how good this moment is.”

And then came the courtship.

Apparently, in ghost culture, any monarch who shares food with another royal is engaging in “pre-mating ceremonial bonding.” Danny found this out after the ice cream moment and immediately declared that he was now courting Shuri, Princess of Wakanda, Heir of the Panther, Queen of His Afterlife.

Shuri threw a shoe at him.

Danny dodged, declared it a “warrior’s blessing,” and carried the shoe around for two days as a sacred relic.

T’Challa returned from a diplomatic mission to find a literal ghost king holding his sister’s sandal in one hand and trying to explain to Okoye why his haunted llamas needed Wakandan citizenship. The Black Panther stared. Blinked. Then turned around and left without saying a word.

It only got worse when the ghosts started showing up.

You see, Danny forgot to mention that his realm was connected to every plane of existence, including all other universesand timelines. So, one by one, people started noticing strange, glowing portals opening in their showers, under their beds, and once—tragically—during a live interview with Tony Stark, who got slimed with ectoplasm and spent an hour screaming about “interdimensional snot monsters.”

Wanda Maximoff accidentally astral-projected into Danny’s throne room during a meditative nap and got stuck in a four-hour tea ceremony with Princess Dorathea the Dragon Ghost, who tried to set her up with Wulf, the yeti-looking ghost of justice. Doctor Strange kept getting prank-called by Technus, who hacked the Sanctum’s Wi-Fi and kept sending memes with captions like “Ur magical protections are mid. Sincerely, King Danny.”

Eventually, the Avengers invited Danny to a meeting.

He showed up fifteen minutes late, riding a skeleton horse, wearing sunglasses indoors, and drinking bubble tea through a glowing straw. Thor challenged him to a duel for “honor and clarity.” Danny beat him by turning intangible and pantsing him in front of everyone.

Shuri watched from the sidelines, sipping her own bubble tea, absolutely smitten and refusing to admit it.

“Just marry him already,” Okoye muttered, half-exasperated, half-amused.

“I don’t even like him,” Shuri snapped. “He’s a reckless, chaotic disaster. He tried to eat vibranium popcorn and exploded.”

“You saved his ectoplasmic signature in your lab.”

“For scientific research!”

“You painted your gauntlet with his core color.”

“It’s a good aesthetic!”

“You wrote a five-page protocol for ‘dealing with ghost boyfriends.’”

“PREEMPTIVE PLANNING.”

Danny, overhearing all of this from the ceiling, grinned like a haunted gremlin. “So you do like me.”

“Get out of my lab,” Shuri said.

He floated closer. “Make me.”

She did. By launching him into orbit with a vibranium railgun.

He came back the next day with a moon rock and a bouquet of cosmic roses made of stardust and regret. She didn’t smile. Not really. Just a little.

And thus began the weirdest, most politically unstable, gloriously cursed romance in the history of both the Ghost Zone and the multiverse. International relations were a mess, ghost cats roamed Wakandan streets, Thor and Cujo became best friends, and Danny made a habit of whispering “I’m Shuri’s spooky consort” at every formal event while phasing through walls.

Nobody knew if it was true love or mutually assured chaos.

But one thing was certain: Ghost diplomacy would never be the same.

[rustedfurnac3]

TFATWS studies!

[incorrect-marvel-because-why-not]

Do you think that if Steve had still had his shield he would have offered it for Bucky's arm?

Think about it-

The Wakandans were doing a huge favor for Bucky (and by extension- Steve). Neither Steve nor Bucky would want to take one of their resources -certainly not one as coveted as vibranium- for any reason.

But Bucky's HYDRA Arm was probably very heavy and likely hurt quite a bit. He may have tuned the pain out, but taking that arm off must have been a relief. Vibranium, however, is very light- the perfect material for a robotic limb.

So Steve probably would have offered the tiny bit of vibranium he had to keep Bucky comfortable, even if he had to destroy a national treasure to do so.

[mooblybloom]

Had another dream thought The both of you might want to know about it

@mae-mae-me & @elithemiar-blog

Peter in the compound with a very sleepy Wulf in his lap I see pets it while doing his physics homework Tony walks in and stares at the wolf that is glowing green in Peter's lap and immediately panics

Tony very nervously: Peter why is there a glowing wolf in your lap?

Peter looking up from his homework confused for about 3 seconds before he makes a face and realization and says: Oh that's Wulf spelled with a u

Tony: Okay cool Why is Wulf in your lap?

Peter: He was sleepy and wanted to hang out

Tony: How did he get here without setting off any alarms

Peter: Oh will he opened it a portal through dimensions and the reason you weren't alerted was because I told Friday he was a friend

Tony: He's your friend? How?

Peter: I became friends with the death God

Tony: I'm sorry you what?

And then it cuts over to shuri making an amalgamated abomination of what looks to be a plasma sword for Peter

Peter deadpan: Met interdimensional wolf on a mission tried to get him back to his owner met God became friends with God

Tony: hUh-?

Peter: Just smiling walk away Tony. It's better for your sanity. Oh and don't going to the other part of the lab shuri's making something beyond our mortal minds

[heckcareoxytwit]

Miles Morales is fighting not only Black Panther (who is possessed by Varnae), he also fights the illusions of his enemies - The Assessor, Ultimate Venom and Rabble, in the spiritual world. Meanwhile, the two gods - Anansi and Bast, are watching their two champions fight and making their commentary. Then, Anansi steps in to help Miles by exorcising the demonic Varnae from Black Panther. The spiritual fight has ended and they are sent back to the real world at Wakanda. Both Miles and Black Panther are glad that they are back to normal.

Miles Morales: Spider-Man v2 #29, 2025

[mariaxxxxx]

Fantasize (Namor x Black!Reader)

Summary: Fantasy can be sweet compared to reality.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, slight degradation, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), aftercare, curse words, breeding kink.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

Work count: 4.113

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

K'uk'ulkan is a man who earned his position as leader of Talokan through hard work and iron-fisted leadership. Considered by his people as a God and by his enemies as an executioner, admired by many for having the good characteristics that make a king and a physical appearance as divine as paradise. He wasn't the kind of guy to start a small conversation, but he knew exactly how to persuade a person with his words. There were also social subtleties involved, which You found adorable, the man was gallant and imposing and this made people respect him more. His father thought he was arrogant and proud. You agreed with him, but chose to describe that man differently; he was a bit of a jerk, a bit of a romantic, and incredibly powerful. These are really unique characteristics.

You look up as he enters Wakanda's council room. You open your mouth to greet him, knowing it's a bad idea. Luckily for You, a loud scoff from his father makes You both focus on the conversation going on in the room. He sits, next to his father, a place fit for a royal guest.

“The situation with the Americans is under control.” His father is speaking to the leader of Talokan with a loud tone of voice, an annoying trait of his. “As agreed, our borders have been strengthened.”

“We cannot relax if we take into account the persistence of the colonizers.” As the river tribe leader speaks You watch K'uk'ulkan's eyebrows arch upward.

K'uk'ulkan is the type of man who is interested in subjects that disrespect his nation and enjoys strategic conversations to keep the colonizers' curiosity at bay. He likes to hear what his allies have to say, although he almost never agrees with the decisions made. He was a violent man indeed. He always responded to violence with more violence.

“The late king’s decision to open Wakanda’s borders brought dilemmas that needed to be resolved.” Says K'uk'ulkan with his apathetic face, but You can detect a small gleam in his eyes. You know how much he always has to fight not to reveal his dissatisfaction with being so far from home. “It is not enough to close the borders again, more brutal measures need to be carried out.”

Oh! There it was. The flame of war shining in his pupils. Two years ago Talokan went to war with Wakanda. A dispute that caused losses for both sides. It was still difficult for many to overcome the death of Queen Ramonda and the departure of the legitimate heir out of the country, leaving Wakanda once again without its protector. Black Panther chose to step aside, indefinitely, to deal with his grief. The decision was respected and accepted by the council, but the people did not look favorably on it; after all, Black Panther was the warrior spirit sent by Bast to protect us.

After the ascension to the throne of his father, King Jabari, diplomatic programs were created to formalize the ceasefire and the union of both nations to deal with attempts to steal Vibranium. His father chose to return to old policies; close Wakanda's borders and suspend metal extraction. Such an attitude made Talokan, the people and the council happy, but not the colonists who demanded the sharing of Vibranium.

The conversation went on for a long time; they talked about metal, about borders, bonds of friendship, trade routes... At some point, you disconnected and sank into the chair with your eyes fixed on the floor, shaking your head every time someone said something. Meetings were tedious for a young man like You with so much energy to burn.

“So, have we reached a decision?” Your father says suddenly, snapping You out of your thoughts. You look at everyone in the room and notice when everyone exclaims a resounding Yes. Only one says nothing. You notice K'uk'ulkan's fingers turn a little too white, as if he's gripping the arms of his chair. A clear sign of irritation and denial.

You're not surprised to see him get up and leave, but no one comments on it before your father says,

“At least he didn’t fondle us again.”

(...)

That night, You escaped the palace walls, all ready to go the moment the clock struck eleven. When this happens, you hide from the Dora Milaje. After all, it wasn't safe for a new little princess to walk the streets late at night. The big doors open and you walk out into the night. You knew the way with your eyes closed; Behind the palace, surrounded by large trees, there was a saltwater river little known to the inhabitants.

On the riverbank there was a rustic wooden cabin with opaque glass windows and a large oak door. You didn't know who built this place, but in the last two years it had become yours and his. Little by little you redecorated the place, filling it with luxurious furniture and yellow lights.

You silently enter the place, turning on the lights and observe the mess you and he made on your last date. You put on shabby clothes, tie your hair up and start working as if you were being paid to do so. You start by arranging the cushions on the couch, then clean all the dishes, counters and general surfaces. You finish by vacuuming all the sand from the place and mopping the floor with a cloth dampened with scented water. You don't care about the room. After all, he was always so tidy. Your lover would rather take You in the living room, or on the balcony, or by the river under the starlight; very few times did you use that bed.

When you finish your cleaning marathon, your watch beeps informing you that it was already midnight and he would be here soon. You take a break and run to the bathroom. After a shower, perfumed your skin and touched up your makeup, you put on a thigh-length dress made of transparent fabric. The dress leaves your breasts and intimacy exposed, so you minimize this fact by placing a padless lace bra and thin panties under the dress. You looked beautiful, like the Goddess Isis waiting for her Osiris.

You return to the kitchen to start preparing something to eat. There are just a few minutes left before the food is ready when the cabin door opens and you hear a familiar voice.

"My love, I'm here." K'uk'ulkan breaks the silence that has hung over the environment since You arrived. You don't bother shouting, you never do. You would do it in person in seconds instead of yelling at each other in different rooms. The last time you dared to perform such a vulgar act, K'uk'ulkan gave you slaps on the ass to educate you correctly. A good wife greets her husband when he walks through the door, he said as he slapped her behind. You loved being punished like that, but you hated spending three whole days without being able to sit down.

You leave the kitchen and go to him, with a big smile on your lips. You find him in the room wearing fancy clothes richly decorated with gold and jade. He keeps his shorts green with black embroidered details. You extend your arms and circle them around his neck. You give him a kiss on the lips in greeting. He returns the kiss, pressing your body against his.

"Hello my dear." You pull away from his lips and turn your head to give him a kiss on the cheek. "How was your day?"

“Stressful, but I managed to escape to be with my wife.” He smiles and plays with a strand of your hair. “Knowing that You are here to care for me fills my heart with joy.”

The kisses didn't stop as he spoke and You were struggling to remember the stew that was boiling on the stove.

“Fuck” You don’t think about the curse until a hand squeezes your hip. A subtle warning of how such verbiage was not allowed in that environment.

“Such a beautiful girl with such a dirty mouth.” He mutters. His lips brush your ear, and you have to concentrate to push him away.

“I need to go to the kitchen.”

“Just focus on me, my love.” You can feel in his tone he wants to break You, break the character You play. Like a dizzy duck You fall into his trap.

“K’uk’ulkan” You whine. "Is very fast! Our dinner will burn and it will be a disaster.”

You scream when you feel a sharp slap on your ass. His hand makes a circular movement at the impact site, easing the pain a little. This was her punishment for being so petulant towards her man.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” His voice is lower, a little dark.

"Sorry my love."

"Good girl." He removes his arms from your waist and signals you to go to the kitchen. You mumble a simple thank you and rush over to find the food boiling furiously over medium heat. You hang up and return to the room, to him.

“Now I’m all yours, my love.”

“What have You done to us?” He says it like he doesn't know. As if he hadn't instructed her what to cook.

“A stew with vegetables accompanied by cornbread.”

It was a rule established by both of you that you would do your best to please him. No easy or quick foods, no fatty foods with added sugar and pesticides. K'uk'ulkan didn't take care of himself, in his opinion. He woke up early to govern, stayed late in meetings and would certainly forget to eat if You didn't prepare something. You remembered how he claimed not to eat much, a phrase that made you want to care for this man who cared for others and neglected himself. Not that this was a surprise, however. K'uk'ulkan was born with a crown on his head, so difficulty taking time away from work and taking care of himself became commonplace.

There was also the pleasure of serving and being served. He was excited by the idea of having a wife ready to serve him at the end of the day, with the effort made by You to please him in every way. It excited both of you, knowing that you worked hard without complaining to please him. In addition to carnal pleasure, there was cuddling; although you and he never talked to define exactly what this relationship was, nights of cuddling and talking on the sidelines were not uncommon. He liked to please too, it would not be uncommon for him to give you gifts ranging from fabrics with gold thread to jewelry; You hid them in the back of your closet to avoid questions.

His hand snakes down your hips to your butt, he gives it a squeeze making you moan with a little discomfort at having your sore flesh being touched like that.

"Adorable." The words vibrate in you. His hands suddenly caress your body. The hand pauses, pulls back, and spanks her ass afterwards. “What do you say after being praised, my love?”

You stabilize yourself with the force of the blow, fight back a groan, smile at him and mutter a loud:

"Thanks."

“You’re such a good little girl” he reflects, pressing your body against his so you can feel the hardness that was forming between your legs. “You love this, don’t you? You love it when I discipline you.”

You don't answer because you think it's a rhetorical question, but a warm hand moves his hair away and thick fingers grab the back of his neck.

"Yes my love. Thank you for taking care of me and teaching me how to be a good woman.” You fight back a bratty response about how you could take care of yourself.

“Such a good queen to me.”

Your mind lights up at the word queen being expelled from his mouth. You're insecure about the current agreement to never discuss these things, so you just smile, and kiss him passionately, pretending that being called his queen hasn't affected you in every way possible.

You allow his tongue into your mouth savoring the feeling of him touching you so softly. His skin burns red hot from the hot trail his hands leave as they roam your body. A hand tangles in his hair and pulls his head back enough for You to feel the pressure on your scalp. K'uk'ulkan attacks his neck, distributing wet kisses while you moan and encourage him to continue.

“K’uk’ulkan” You moan shamelessly when he sucks on the sensitive skin of your neck. He walks away, leaving you a mess, the damn thing had the power to make you go crazy with so little.

"Let's play a game." He suggests. A part of You is disappointed by this, but You knew how he liked to prolong the night. He moves away from you, sitting on the navy blue sofa; You narrow your eyes, finding this attitude strange, but his smug smile prepares you for what comes next. “Take off your panties and climb up my thigh. Now."

You don't wait long and you're soon getting rid of your panties, straddling his thigh after doing so. The cool, bare skin damps beneath You which is clearly visible when K'uk'ulkan pushes you back to check, You gasp when you realize how wet you were. His face burns with embarrassment, so you cover him in a cute reaction. You can't meet his gaze when he grabs his hand and pulls them away so you opt to kiss him for a minute to hide the embarrassment. Until he pulls away and puts his hands on your hips.

“I barely touched you and you’re already wet.” His hands are firmly on your hips, he uses them to pull you against him causing friction. “I know how desperate You are for this. Keep your moans low. Anyway, good girls never act like whores.”

He was right about how much You needed this, of course. The bastard knew her like the back of his hand. He leans his torso against the couch, giving him a privileged view of the movements of his hips. You bite your bottom lip to keep from moaning loudly when a specific movement increases contact with your swollen clit. You can barely concentrate between your low sighs and the warm hand that snakes across your belly and over your breasts, the feeling of his hand drives you crazy and without you realizing it a loud moan escapes your mouth when one of your breasts are tight.

You come out of your little world of pleasure to be met with K'uk'ulkan's intense gaze. He arches an eyebrow and squeezes your hips when you try to seek more friction.

"Sorry." His breath catches with the need to be forgiven, your hands tighten on his shoulders and you, once again, try to move your hips only to have your plans thwarted.

"Stand up." He commands and You obey. “It looks like my beautiful girl is having trouble following my orders. What a shame!"

"Sorry my love." You falter when you see the expression on his face.

“We need to solve this problem” You can see the cruel smile and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Take off your dress and come onto my lap.”

You take everything off and stand naked in front of him. Hesitantly, you walk over to him and settle into his lap. K'uk'ulkan rests one hand on your upper back and squeezes your shoulder. Care before everything happens You understand. You arch into his lap due to the hard slap he gives your ass.

“Tell and be thankful.” He orders.

"To thank?" His question is rewarded with another hard slap on his ass. "Sorry. Thank you for the lesson my love.”

"Good girl. Too bad this one didn't count. I didn’t hear any numbers.” You can see his smile in your mind. "Count."

"Yes." You speak breathlessly, one hand gripping his leg to anchor yourself. A slap. "One. Thank you my love"

"Higher." Another slap.

"Two. Thank you my love."

You hear a chuckle and his hand covers your ass, rubbing it creating momentary relief.

“Behave and you won’t be punished again.”

The blow comes harder this time, catching You off guard enough to scream.

"Three. Thanks." You say breathlessly.

“I said it without groaning.” The slap is even stronger than the previous one, you bite your lip to keep from screaming. “Thank me and I’ll think about whether I’ll fuck you with my cock.”

“Thank you for punishing me, K’uk’ulkan” You lick your lips to moisten them. “Please fuck me with your cock.”

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you up, the quick movement makes you slide off the couch and fall on your knees between his legs. You look up only to find the obsidian orbs watching you with intensity. This man has too much power over You, and You can't care about it. You were about to beg to suck his dick, but K'uk'ulkan grabs your jaw with his fingers and caresses your lips with his thumb, You suck it devotedly without looking away.

“I will be benevolent today.”

You are internally grateful for the decision. K'uk'ulkan had been teasing you for a long time and your pussy was throbbing, and you had never been so ready to be fucked in your life. He tightens the grip on your jaw, a reminder for you to thank him.

"Thanks." You say. “Fuck me with your divine cock, K'uk'ulkan”

“My good girl, so good to me.” He caresses his cheek with his fingertips. “Lie down on the mat and spread your legs.”

You find yourself crawling onto the carpet a moment later, laying your head on a cushion. You look at K'uk'ulkan, his body sculpted by gods, he worked to rid himself of the jewelry and green trunks.

“Eat me feathered serpent.” You say, making no move to hide the way you look at him.

  K'uk'ulkan lets out a rough, savage growl, and you notice how hard and rigid his cock is begging for attention. Your pussy moistens even more at the knowledge of how thirsty he was.

“I'm going to fuck you soon, my love. I want to get You ready for me.”

He moves his body until he is on top of you and kisses you. You feel his cock in your belly, dripping with your juices, and you feel divine for provoking such a reaction in that man. You feel a finger slide through your intimate area, playing with your swollen clitoris and then being inserted into your vaginal canal. You groan at the intrusion. You kiss him harder when a second finger is introduced and then the third.

“K'uk'ulkan, You are stretching me. I cannot stand." You say only to receive a raised eyebrow before he goes back to doing what he was doing. With his thumb, he circles your clitoris in circular movements to the point that you see stars.

“You’re my good girl, you can take it.” He leans in, and the predatory tone of his voice when he speaks makes you squirm beneath him. “Cum on my fingers and I’ll give you my cock.

Her folds tighten tightly on the edge of a powerful orgasm. You try to beg, but only disjointed sounds come out of your mouth. You feel his thumb tease your clitoris with movements oscillating between slow and fast, in a sneaky movement he removes his thumb only to press it harder immediately afterwards. His orgasm hits you like a truck. You arch your back and scream for him when you feel your spirit leave your body and return shortly afterwards.

“K'uk'ulkan, I'm...”

“You’re going to cum again.” He says as he aligns his cock with your pussy, You moan when he purposely rubs against your hard and sensitive clit. “This time, it will be on my dick.”

He pushes hard. You're wet and open enough, but he was pretty big and the pain of penetration was inevitable, but it was a good pain. Every time You loved feeling his cock tearing your wet pussy. He supports himself on his elbows which give him the possibility to fuck you hard and he does so.

"Cum." You blurt out as he beats you mercilessly.

Above You, K'uk'ulkan ate you like a flesh-hungry beast. The dull touch of his skin hitting yours fills you with anxiety, and makes you think about the bruises that will appear. He grabs her waist with one hand just to stretch her a little and thrust her with more force.

“My perfect wife, good girl, my good good queen.” He babbled helplessly as he thrust hard into her pussy that was clenching around him, a clear sign of a new orgasm approaching. “I will spill my semen inside You. Filling Your womb with a baby will make You my queen and take them away.”

“Put a baby in me, K’uk’ulkan” You beg him. The hand squeezes his waist again as he attacks with a series of swear words in his mother tongue.

With a powerful thrust You cum again, screaming his name shamelessly. Your inner folds contract, squeezing his cock inside You, K'uk'ulkan tries to resist it, but it was a losing battle. He comes grunting like an animal spilling drop by drop of his seed inside You. He still gives a few more thrusts as if to ensure that You received every drop of his sperm. He collapses on top of you, with his cock still inside your pussy.

It stays inside You until You are uncomfortable. K'uk'ulkan Pulls away, pulling his softening cock out of You, a moan escaping when You feel the emptiness that was left. Your walls were sensitive and stained with his release; satisfaction filled every molecule of your body at this feat. K'uk'ulkan lies down next to him; you turn your head to him and smile, place a chaste kiss on his lips and sigh softly:

"Thank you my love."

To then be pulled closer and wrapped in a comforting hug.

“We need to eat.” You say snuggling into his chest, he pulls You into him.

“I already ate.” He says with his eyes closed. "I am very satisfied."

“You made me cook for nothing.” You speak of false indignation. “I’ll leave You hungry next time.”

“I will make it up to you later for cooking. Now, let's rest. Soon the sun will rise.”

Silence settles in the room, a sign that K'uk'ulkan was sleeping. You were not left behind, falling into a deep sleep with pleasant dreams.

The sun was rising when You awoke from your sleep. It wasn't a surprise to discover that you were alone. You never woke up next to him. As the leader of a nation he needed to return to his nation and, as painful as it was, he knew the implications that his affair with K'uk'ulkan could bring if he didn't go underwater. Hatred for surface dwellers was sown centuries ago and it would be difficult for a Talokanil's relationship with a surface dweller to be accepted.

You shook your head to dismiss such frivolous thoughts. I knew this was salt in the wound, a long time ago. You had already convinced yourself that you were nothing more than a concubine; You accepted this position with flying colors, although a little voice in your head always begged you to demand more. Being his queen, the mother of his children seemed like an impossible dream, so for the sake of your sanity You accepted the role to be played; sex is necessary and affection when requested. One day, this would end; You would marry a nobleman or some promising scientist and have his children, K'uk'ulkan would be nothing more than a youthful fling.

“Fuck” You cursed as you realized where your thoughts were taking you downs a dangerous path again.

After all, you and he would stay in this fantasy a thousand times if necessary. Until reality knocked on the door and took us back to the harsh reality. For now, you could be content with pretending he was yours; pretend he would come back every night as her husband to love her and possess her body under the starlight. You sigh as you realize how your reality wasn't as pleasant as your expectations. You snuggle on the rug, deciding to sleep a little longer until you return to the palace, your father would definitely be upset and question your disappearance, but you could deal with that later. Now, You just wanted to close your eyes and dream of a reality where You and K'uk'ulkan would be happy surrounded by children. Fantasy could be sweet compared to reality.

[peanutaqp]

Here have some Shuriri angst 😰🌚

Art by @criaatura_

#angst #art #shuriri #shurixriri #ririwilliams #shuriudaku #shuri #blackpanther #ironheart #bpwf #blackpantherwakandaforever #ship #art #base #corny #sadart #lovers #lesbian #gay #wlw #wlwcore #marvel #marvelship #comic #autism #marvelrivals #procreate

[alwaysaglader]

A HEART WIRED FOR WAR (Ch. 4)

(BUCKY BARNES X READER)

Chapter 4 - His Mind & Mine

The soft crunch of gravel under their boots was the only sound as Bucky and Y/N followed the path leading away from the main compound.

No guards. No scientists. Just trees and open sky.

Two huts - one for each - stood nestled near the edge of a vast lake, where lotuses bloomed in soft pinks and whites, their petals swaying gently on the surface. The water was still, glass-like, reflecting the sky and the edges of the forest that hugged the shoreline.

"They really meant it when they said peace and quiet," Bucky muttered, half to himself, half in awe.

She looked up at him with a small smile.

For once, he didn't feel like he had to look away.

Later, as the sun dipped low, casting streaks of gold across the lake, Bucky lingered in the doorway of his for a while, staring out toward the water. Something in him refused to settle.

When he finally stepped outside, he saw her—Y/N—kneeling by the lake, boots off, toes in the water. She reached for a lotus, holding it gently, fingertips brushing the petals like it might fall apart if touched too hard.

Bucky stood frozen. He had never seen anyone touch anything with such care. Not him. Not his past. Nothing in his world had ever deserved that kind of gentleness.

She noticed him and looked up, eyes soft. "Evening, Sergeant"

He opened his mouth, paused, then said quietly, "Bucky."

She smiled faintly, repeating it with intention. "Bucky." Then, without breaking his gaze, she extended the lotus toward him.

He hesitated before reaching out. His hand—rough, scarred, trembling—closed around it carefully. The cool water droplets still clinging to the petals kissed his skin, and for a moment, he stilled. But then—something shifted.

The chill reminded him of blood. Of damp concrete and red staining steel. Of screams and silence that followed. His hand tensed. Shook.

And before he could stop himself, he crushed it.

The petals crumpled in his fist with a wet sound, delicate beauty turned to pulp. His breath caught as he stared at what he'd done. His hand opened slowly, trembling, and the ruined flower sat in his palm like a wound. A few silent tears slipped down his cheek before he even realised they were falling.

He turned his face away from her. Guilt and grief tangled in his chest, too much to hold in.

"It's okay to cry," Y/N said softly. "I did too."

He looked at her then. Her voice—kind and gentle—cut through the storm in his head.

She looked like she wanted to brush his tears away, but her hands stayed at her sides. She didn't want to push.

"I'm too broken," he said through clenched teeth. "It's not just pain—it's damage. And it doesn't go away".

She nodded, drawing in a quiet breath before reaching out—slowly, so he could see her hand coming. "I know," she said softly. "But when something's broken, I don't throw it away. I stay. And I fix it."

Her fingers brushed lightly over his, gathering the crushed petals from his open palm. They stuck to his skin, damp and torn, but she was gentle. Patient. Like she wasn't afraid of the mess.

Bucky didn't move. Didn't speak. Just watched her.

Her touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary, then she let the pieces fall into the water beside them. "You didn't mean to hurt it," she said softly.

He swallowed hard. "Doesn't change that I did."

"No," she said. "But it means you care that you did."

His chest tightened, something caught between grief and relief.

Then Y/N spoke again, softer this time. "You keep thinking you need to redeem yourself, like you have to earn your right to heal. Maybe it’s not about that.”

He looked at her, brows drawn, guarded.

She met his gaze. "Maybe it's about reclaiming who you were before they got to you."

Something in him faltered. The words didn't just land—they settled. Like she had named something he hadn't known he was reaching for.

"You think there's something left to reclaim?" he asked, not like a challenge—just a question shaped by fear. Y/N didn't hesitate. "I know there is."

Her voice was steady, soft. "You're sitting here. You're still fighting it. That part of you never left, Bucky. It just got buried."

She looked at him—not through him, not past him. At him. "And I see it. Even when you don't."

He didn't answer. Didn't trust himself to.

Bucky stared at the water, at the broken petals drifting just beneath the surface. His hand was still open, as if the weight of them lingered even after she let them go.

He didn't understand how she could touch something so gently. How she looked at him like he wasn't dangerous. Like he wasn't a thing to be avoided.

He'd spent so long believing he wasn't worth saving. That whatever was left of him wasn't really him anymore. Just muscle and memory, wrapped around a list of things he couldn't undo.

But she hadn't flinched. Not when he broke. Not when he told her the truth.

When something is broken, I don't throw it away. I stay. I fix it.

The words echoed, low and steady.

It is about reclaiming who you were.

No one had ever said that to him before—not like that. 

Maybe he wasn't ready to believe them. Not yet.

But for the first time in a long time, he wanted to.

He looked at his hand—the one that had crushed the flower—and then at hers, still resting nearby. Close. Unafraid.

I want to be better, he thought.

And maybe that was enough to start.

--

Step 1: Feeling Safe

It started with distance.

Not emotional—physical. 

Y/N never stood too close. Never moved too fast. She always gave Bucky space—knocked before entering, never stood behind him, never closed a door without saying so first.

She didn’t stare. Didn’t force conversation. Just… existed nearby.

Most afternoons, she sat at the lake with a small black book, writing quietly under the same tree. Not watching him. Just being there.

When he finally sat on the opposite side of that tree—she didn’t look up or didn't say anything. She just turned a page and continued. 

He waited for that spike in tension he is used to receiving from people—the one that told him he needed to be alert, guarded. But it didn’t come.

That’s when it started to shift—something low in his chest uncoiled. Not trust. Not yet. But a question: What if this place didn’t need him to be ready for war?

No one here wanted to use him. No one needed him to be a soldier.

And she never looked at him like a risk. That unsettled him more than anything.

Why aren't you afraid of me?

But over time, the question faded. And for the first time in years, he didn’t feel the need to brace for impact. He just… existed.

And that felt almost like safety.

Step 2: Facing The Guilt & Nightmares

He hadn’t slept. He couldn’t.

The dreams weren’t just images. They were voices too. Russian commands he didn’t understand anymore, but his body did. Screams he couldn’t forget. A nameless man’s eyes.

Y/N didn’t say anything when she found him outside her hut. Just crouched beside him in the mud and draped a blanket around him and waited. Night in and night out. 

Eventually, the words started to come—in fragments. Out of order. Not every night. Sometimes it was just two words—bloodied hands. Sometimes it was a name he hadn’t spoken in decades.

The first time, his voice was flat. “I remembered someone I killed. I don’t even know his name.”

She didn’t tell him it wasn’t his fault. She didn’t list reasons or explain the programming. Instead, she said, “You can mourn him. You can hate what they made you do. But don’t hate yourself.”

He mumbled it aloud, barely a whisper. “He was a helpless victim. Right in front of my gun”.  

Her voice didn’t waver. “And so was the man forced to pull the trigger.”

He flinched. The words didn’t heal—but they landed. Sank in deep. 

Bucky stared ahead in silence, then glanced down at his hand. “I should’ve fought harder.”

“You were surviving,” she said. “That was your fight.”

He didn’t believe it. Not fully. 

But the weight in his chest loosened just enough to let him breathe.

In time, she taught him to ground.

But most of all, she taught him not to run.

“You don’t have to carry it alone,” she said once. “You still have to carry it. But you’re not the only one holding it now.”

That night, for the first time in a long time, he slept inside.

Not perfectly. Not peacefully.

But enough.

And that was a start.

Step 3: Regaining Autonomy

They started with the basics. Simple stretches. Joint rotations. Breath awareness.

“Move because you want to,” she said. “Not because you were trained to.”

At first, it frustrated him. Every movement felt mechanical—practiced, automatic. His arm snapped into position before he could even think. His gait stiffened the moment a routine began.

“Again,” she’d say. Not harsh. Not commanding. Just patient.

“Close your eyes this time. Don’t follow instinct. Follow what you feel.”

So he did. Awkwardly. Badly. But slowly, his movements stopped being drills. His steps stopped being rehearsed.

She helped him rebuild muscle memory—from the ground up.

Sometimes she would ask him to draw a weapon and not strike. Just hold it. Feel the weight. Set it down again.

“You don’t have to use it,” she reminded him. “You have a choice now.”

He didn’t believe it at first. But one afternoon, he caught himself mid-motion—triggered by a sudden sound—and chose to stay still.

No voice told him to.

No command fought him.

And in that stillness, something shifted.

His body was finally his.

Step 4: Breaking The Triggers

She waited until he was ready.

Not just physically—but steady in his body, in his guilt, in the knowledge that he could choose now. The nightmares had dulled. His muscles no longer moved on autopilot. He'd begun to sit with stillness rather than brace against it.

And that’s when the trigger word testing began.

At first, Y/N read the words from behind the room’s bulletproof, vibranium-reinforced glass, with Shuri monitoring every biomarker.

Every word made him feel it—the pull, the switch inside him. 

Like a hand reaching for a gun already cocked. 

But he held the line. Until word five. Then six. 

The edge got thinner. The breathing heavier. 

Then the shutdowns came.

He could hear her voice, but it felt far away. Like it was echoing down a hallway he no longer stood in.

The Winter Soldier had taken over. And everything that made him Bucky faded into the background.

Then one day, Y/N didn’t stay behind the glass. 

She stepped into the testing room and closed the door.

She hadn’t told anyone beforehand—not even him. But she couldn’t stand watching anymore. Couldn’t stand the way he fought the Winter Soldier alone, surrounded by empty walls.

If he was going to face it—then so was she.

Bucky looked up from the mat, already tensing. “Do you have a death wish?”

Her voice was calm and steady as she walked and stood her ground firmly right next to him. “If it means healing you, then yes.”

Then, turning to the glass, she spoke with quiet authority: “Do not enter. No matter what happens.”

Shuri and Ayo stood motionless behind the bulletproof glass.

And then—the first trigger word left her mouth.

And he felt it. 

The programming didn’t pull—it activated.

By the sixth word, he was gone.

The Winter Soldier rose behind his eyes like a shadow reclaiming its host. Breath even. Eyes empty.

She didn’t run.

He slammed her into the mat. She didn’t fight back. Didn’t even try to block. Another hit. A boot against the floor. A twist of her wrist. Still, no retaliation.

And then—his hand around her throat.

She choked, breath shallow, pain blooming across her neck and chest.

But her eyes stayed open.

Her lips parted.

“You are no longer the Winter Soldier,” she rasped. “You are James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky. My friend.”

He didn’t stop.

Not right away.

Then—

He saw it.

Tears. Not from fear. From him. Sliding down her face, her eyes still locked on his.

That cut deeper than any blow.

Something inside him cracked, split through the fog. Her voice. Her words. Her belief—despite the pain, despite the bruises.

His grip loosened.

Then dropped.

He stumbled back, blinking hard, lungs seizing like he’d just surfaced from drowning. The mat swayed beneath him.

She was still on the floor, breathing ragged. But conscious. Watching him.

“Y/N,” he rasped, voice breaking. Her lips curved faintly. “You came back.”

Bucky knelt a few feet away from her, the hand that had closed around her throat trembling uncontrollably in his lap.

Y/N sat against the wall, her breathing shallow, bruises already blooming across her collarbone. She noticed Shuri preparing to enter with a cold compress, but lifted a hand to wave her off��her eyes never leaving him.

“I could’ve killed you,” he said, voice low and raw.

She didn’t answer immediately. When she did, it wasn’t with comfort. “You didn’t.”

“That doesn’t change what I did.” His jaw clenched. “You shouldn’t have stepped in.”

“I did,” she said softly. “And I’d do it again.”

He looked at her then, finally. She was hurt. Because of him. And she still meant that.

“I don’t understand you,” he murmured.

“I don’t need you to,” she said. “I just need you to keep coming back.”

He didn’t sleep for days after that session.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. Not afraid. Not fighting. Just there—voice breaking, throat bruised, calling him Bucky like it still meant something.

And that was what haunted him.

Not the fight. Not the programming.

The fact that he hurt someone who chose to believe in him.

So he chose something too.

Y/N.

Not as comfort.

As a promise.

He didn’t want to be the reason she got hurt again. He wanted to be the reason she never had to be afraid.

The next session, Bucky made a request - his first, by choice. 

“Y/N, I think… I need you to stay behind the glass this time.”

His voice didn’t tremble—but something in his eyes did.

Y/N didn’t ask why. Didn’t offer reassurances.

She just held his gaze and nodded once—not surprised, but quietly proud. Because it was the first thing he’d asked for—not as the soldier he’d been trained to be, but simply as Bucky.

It wasn’t rejection. It was safety. A boundary he set for his own peace.

She moved behind the glass with Shuri and Ayo, giving him the space he asked for.

The barrier let him focus. Let him feel safe—not from her, but from the version of himself he didn’t trust yet.

Even separated by walls, her voice still reached him.

Clear. Steady. Familiar. But the words still hit hard.

By the fifth trigger, his breath hitched. By the sixth, he was gone.

He surged forward—full force—shouting in Russian, his fist slamming into the reinforced glass.

Shuri’s hand hovered near the failsafe. But Y/N stepped forward, calm but firm, eyes locked on him.

“Bucky.” Her voice didn't rise. Just anchored. “Look at me. You’re not lost.”

He hit the glass again—once, twice—and then froze.

Her hand rested on the other side, palm flat.

“You told me to stay behind here. You did that. You chose it.”

“So choose again" she said.

His breath was ragged. Chest heaving. Fists trembling.

But he didn’t strike again.

He sank to his knees, back against the wall.

It took time to come back. But this time—he did.

Over time, as the grip of the programming weakened, so did Bucky’s fear.

It wasn’t gone. But it no longer ruled him.

One morning, just outside the training room, Bucky stood in front of Y/N, his hand flexing at his side, trying to keep his voice steady.

“If you’re okay with it… I want you in the room today.”

He met her eyes, hesitant but sincere.

“Not close. Just… at the far end of the room. Where I can see you.”

A beat.

“If I get too close—leave. I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, waiting. “You didn’t hurt me.”

His jaw tightened. “Y/N—”

“That wasn’t you,” she said gently. “That was the Winter Soldier. And that's not who you are.”

He didn’t answer. But hearing it like that—as fact, not reassurance—shifted something inside him as they stepped inside the training room together and walked to their positions.

He took a breath. Then another. “I’m ready,” he said.

Y/N began.“Rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak. Furnace.”

His hand clenched, chest tightening.“Nine.” His muscles locked. “Benign.” His vision blurred, then sharpened—darkening around the edges.

He took a step forward. Then another. Toward her. “Bucky.”

Y/N didn’t move. Her hands stayed at her sides, calm. “This is your space now.”

But his fists curled again. His eyes started to haze—the Winter Soldier clawing up beneath the surface.

“Bucky,” she said again, firmer this time. “You told me to stand back. You asked me to trust you.”

Her voice dropped. “So trust yourself.”

His step faltered. His breath came ragged and short.

“You are no longer a weapon" she whispered. "You’re Bucky. You’re someone who chooses to fight for himself now".

He stopped. His fist uncurled. One shaky step back. Then another.

He dropped to his knees, breathing hard. Silent.

Not the breakthrough.

But closer than he’d ever been.

They kept at it—day after day, week after week. Some sessions were harder than others. But he kept showing up.

And then, a few weeks later, on a quiet evening, there was a soft, almost hesitant knock at the door of her hut.

Y/N looked up from her cup of tea just as Bucky’s head appeared in the doorway—hair tousled, eyes uncertain.

“Can I come in?” he asked. She nodded, already shifting to make space.

He stepped inside and sat across from her on the floor, legs folded, his hand resting in his lap. “Will you try them again?” he asked.

His voice was steady. “The trigger words. I want you to say them.”

Y/N didn’t ask why. She just set her tea aside, turned to face him fully, and said, “Okay.”

He closed his eyes. She began.

One word. Then two. Then the full sequence—calm, even, no tension in her voice.

And when it was over—nothing.

No twitch. No haze. No storm building in his mind.

Just breath. Stillness. Bucky.

He opened his eyes slowly.

"I'm still here," he whispered. Then again, softer—like it meant everything: "I'm still me. It doesn't work on me anymore".

She was already smiling, eyes soft but unshaken.

“Welcome back, Sergeant Barnes.”

And then it hit him.

The tears came fast—years of buried pain released all at once. Bucky didn’t try to hide his crying this time. He allowed it all out, his entire body trembling with raw emotion.

Y/N had longed to wipe those tears away back at the lake the first time, but she’d held back then, fearing he might retreat further into himself. 

Now, she leaned forward without hesitation and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. He didn’t pull away. 

His hand sought hers, nuzzling into her warm touch as he closed his eyes, letting her cupped hands cradle his face. 

A quiet, tender smile spread over her lips as her thumbs softly brushed away the final traces of his tears.

Then—he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

The kiss was gentle but full—like he was pouring everything he couldn’t say into that one moment—grief, gratitude, peace.

His lips rested there, as if trying to imprint on her skin his newfound hope—bridging all the pain with the promise of being truly, vulnerably himself.

Then he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. There was no hesitation in her response; she melted into the space without question, arms circling his waist, her chin resting gently against his shoulder. 

And they stayed like that—wrapped in each other’s warmth, no longer survivors clinging to the edge. 

They were simply Bucky and Y/N.  

Two hearts, finally quiet.

--

Chapter 5 coming soon

[mrs-johansson]

Chapter 6 - Dark Phoenix II - Emergence of conflagration

Part 2:

We slowly moved inside, taking down guards one by one. Natasha secured the security room and Sam got the armory room.

Us 5 had successfully reached the entrance and the only thing we needed to enter was Nat’s signal of a clear path. “How are you guys doing?” I asked in the comms. “There are about 50 guards left inside. Klaue is at the top of the building,” Natasha informed us. “How’s our way inside looking?” I asked. “Just a second…” She said, clearly focused on what she was doing. “You’re clear, go get him.” “I’m planning on it.”

We made our way through each level quietly. Collected all the files we found, searching for Vibranium and Klaue.

In no time we were nearing the top floor. We were left with 7 men and Klaue. “You get the guards, I have Klaue,” I looked at the agents, and once they all nodded we broke in the door, not leaving a second for them to escape.

Our agents were on Klaue’s men quickly and I spotted Klaue at the other side of the room. “Sam get over here and collect the Vibranium, Nat get all their data from the main hardware, and send your team over here. I’ll get Klaue,” I said and ran to Klaue. As he saw me coming he held up a different-looking gun and he aimed at me. Kicked up a metal table and threw it at him, making him fall back into a door and roll down some stairs. I followed him to the stairway and before I got to him, he started running down the stairs. Sent a fireball in front of him, trying to stop him, but it didn’t bother him, and jumped over the burning area and continued running.

Trying to stop him I tried to fire at him but somehow he managed to run out of the building. I followed him closely and finally hit him with a fireball, making him fall to the ground. “Who are you working for? Who needs this much Vibranium?” I asked as I stood over the man. “A lot of people,” he said with a devilish smile. “Who are you providing this for?”

He looked behind me and the next second someone jumped at me, sending me about 100 feet away from Klaue. I rolled in the dirt making me cough. I looked up and saw a man in a black catsuit, helmet covering his head. “What the hell, man?” I got up and when I looked to Klaue’s way he was gone. “I lost Klaue,” I said in the comms. The cat man didn’t waste time and started punching me. I tried to block his moves, and when I grabbed his arm I burned him but it seemed he didn’t even notice. “Why are you stealing Vibranium?” He asked and I frowned. “Stealing? I’m trying to get it away from Klaue!” I explained while we kept fighting. “How do you know him?” He asked not even bothering to stop. “I’ve been after him for months, he’s supplying someone with Vibranium, I’m trying to find out who! Stop fucking punching me,” I said angrily and with a big kick I sent him back.

He got up and took his helmet off and my eyebrows shot up. “Aren’t you the Prince of Wakanda?” I asked and he frowned. “Yes, I am. And who are you?” He walked closer. “I’m Y/N Stark. I’m part of the Avengers.” His face dropped and looked where Klaue had been laying a couple of minutes ago. “I blew that up, didn’t I?” He asked and I spread my arms. “Yeah, kinda. This was the first time in 6 months that we had eyes on him, so thanks for that. Why did you even stop me?” I asked frustratingly. He seemed like he didn’t know the answer either. “I’m sorry, I thought you were with him.” “Y/N I think we found the person he’s supplying, you’re not gonna like this,” heard Sam over the comms. “Yeah, and I bumped into the Wankandan Prince. I’ll be there in a second,” I said then turned to the Prince. “If you’re after him, come with me,” I said and he nodded.

“So what is this cat thing? Are like a… Cat-Man?” I asked, not really sure what he was supposed to symbolize. “I’m the Black Panther. It’s been the protector of Wakanda for centuries, once I become king I’ll be the official Black Panther.” He explained. “Right and what’s your name?” “I’m T’Challa.”

Once we got up to where the team was I explained what happened and Natasha wasn’t happy at all to lose Klaue. “I can help you find Klaue if you hand over all the Vibranium you found so far. It belongs to Wakanda,” T’Challa said and Nat looked at me questioning if he was trustworthy. “That’ll work. Sam, what did you find?” I asked and he handed me some files. “Hadria Folks. She has an army of super soldiers with Vibranium armor. Klaue has been supplying her for the last 3 months,” he explained as I looked through the pictures of the armor and the amount of Vibranium she got her hands on. I looked at T’Challa and handed him the papers. “You’ve got a bigger problem than just stolen Vibranium.” He looked at the information splattered on the files and he glanced at me with a weird look. “Send your team home, you three come with me back to Wakanda, we’ll get to Klaue that way.”

We made our way to the Quinjet and I tapped Sam’s shoulder. “Take the files back to the Compound and look her up. We need every information we have on her. And look up this Black Panther guy too just to be sure,” I said and he sighed. “Why can’t I go with you? Wakanda must be so cool,” he whined and I chuckled. “You’ll get there, Wilson.”

Natasha and I followed T’Challa to his plane which looked very cool. “How did you lose Klaue?” Asked Natasha. “This guy jumped on me and when I got back up he was gone. I really hope he can get us to Klaue because if not I’m gonna be very angry.”

We got the plane and the technology was very advanced. It looked amazing. I stepped one step closer to a sand table and suddenly a blade was by my neck then I heard a gun being held up by someone. “I wouldn’t do that,” Natasha spoke and I carefully looked to my side to see the woman who was holding a long spear. I guess Natasha was holding a gun at her. “Okoye, they’re Avengers, lower your weapon,” T’Challa spoke and she took a look between Nat and I then pulled back the spear. I looked at Natasha and glanced at her gun, signaling that she should withdraw too. “Okoye, this is Y/n Stark and Natasha Romanoff. Ladies, this is Okoye, the commander of the Dora Milaje,” introduced us, the Prince. “Dora Milaje?” I asked. “Special forces of Wakanda,” said the woman with a straight and intense look.

Once we got off Natasha and I sat down, she still looked very unimpressed with the situation. “It’s gonna be fine, trust me,” I said to her and she just sighed, and I saw the look she gave me and it seemed she was trying to make an effort. “I trust you, not them,” said Natasha, and I put my hand on her thigh in a second, slightly squeezing. “Natalia, we know about Wakanda and they are trustworthy,” I explained and she looked at me with a tense expression. “She held a spear to your neck, Y/n.” “She didn’t know who we were.” Natasha sighed and leaned back in her seat. “I really hope you’re right.”

***

As soon as the jet landed T’Challa went ahead and then us two, Okoye followed behind. When we all reached the ground, I saw the King and Queen of Wakanda with two other women, one younger than all of us. “Baba,” he bowed slightly, then looked at us. “This is Y/n Stark and Natasha Romanoff, Avengers,” he said and we bowed too. “King T’Chaka, a pleasure to meet you,” I said and he nodded. “Likewise, welcome to Wakanda.” “Thank you, didn’t think this would be the reason for our first visit,” I said and he nodded. “Yes, it’s very unfortunate. In the meantime, this is my wife Ramonda, and my daughter, Shuri. And Nakia, member of the War Dogs, also the girlfriend of my son,” said the King, and T’Challa was quick to get flustered. “Now, I think we should get to work,” T’Challa said, trying to avoid the topic.

***

We made contact with Sam at the Compound and as he was on video call with us, we saw all the information on Klaue from what T’Challa and the others had so far. “We unintentionally found one of Klaue’s hiding places around six months ago. He had a full cabinet of Vibranium but we didn’t know who he was at the time. Then we went after him and retrieved over 100 million dollars worth of Vibranium in the last six months. And today was our first time locating such a big amount that led us to Klaue. Then we found out why he needs this much. Sam, what did you find?” I looked at him on the screen and the next second he sent over everything on the bigger screen in the room. “Hadria Folks, ex-KGB. She has approximately 15 super soldiers with Vibranium armor and weapons. There were multiple attacks in Europe, but nobody got them in time. Police can’t handle them obviously and Folks haven’t been seen in 2 months. Her station is said to be in Siberia, a familiar place, don’t you think?” Sam said and I looked at him immediately. “He’s not there,” I said, crossing my arms. “Who’s not there?” Asked Nakia and I just kept staring at the screen. “Another super soldier, he was a Hydra weapon until we got him and now he is hiding, keeping himself off the radar. Maybe he could help us,” I said and Sam interfered quickly. “We couldn’t locate him for a while now, how are we planning to do this?” He asked. “You haven’t been able to locate him. He sent me a letter about two weeks ago, saying he was in Romania. He’ll know where to find her. Nat and I will go to Romania, get Barnes and you find Klaue. I’ll get you all the Vibranium we retrieved. Are you familiar with super soldiers?” I turned to the Wakandans. Shuri typed it into her computer then multiple images came up on the screen. One particular picture is of James. “Captain America is one of them, right?” Asked Nakia. “Yes.” “Why not get him involved with this?” T’Challa suggested. “He’s got other stuff to deal with. And besides, I think we’ll be just fine doing this.”

After some discussion, they flew us back to the Compound and I was ready to go home. I really thought that this could be a promising opportunity for us to get more allies and maybe get James out of hiding.

“When will you pick up Rina?” Walked into my office Natasha but stopped at the door. “Dad picked her up already. I asked him and Pepper to watch her for a while. I don’t know how long this thing will last,” I explained and packed up all my stuff, ready to leave. “So, you’ll be alone?” She asked with a gentle but clearly seductive tone. My eyes lifted in her and the smirk on her face was undeniable. I began to walk past her and before I stepped out of the room, I looked her up and down. “Care to join?” Natasha didn’t answer, she just grabbed onto my hand and kissed me on the lips. “Great choice.”

[cherry-pop-elf]

Half Wakandian/Mutant Kraven

Hear me out on this. This is essentially my like. Kraven OC? (Kraven is a title. Not a name) and concept. Listen and hear me out and you’ll see the vision and how it fills the gaps in. My comic readers, you’ll see the vision

(Also kinda a more in depth look to my Marvel Rivals Kraven character)

His mother was from Wakanda. Not only that but a brilliant herbologist and potion maker. So instead of needing Calypso he can fulfill his own role and have a important tether to his mother

Being half black is also a important arc to is identity to how he feels different, needs to meet certain roles, to be treated a certain way, and the multiple layers of toxic masculinity

There is also the added divide between him and Dimitri as he would be fully Russian. Half by it’s very literal term

There is also more depth to the dynamic between his parents, as he grew up in a abusive home where she suffered extreme mental health issues due to such

There is also going to be the arc of his X gene. Most often it’s triggered by puberty, and since it’s in the early 1900’s not much on mutants is known. So his mother sees it as a ‘Blessing From Bast’

His mother sees him as a blessing, while his father sees him as nothing more than a tool. Adds a deeper depth to his connection with his mother, and a dynamic of him being an animal mutant.

It would also mean the name chameleon would be literal for Dimitri. Able to shape shift. Makes the names make more sense now. The lion and the chameleon. Two different types of hunters

When escaping Russia to America there really is a feeling of fish out of water, but also a chance of hope because he will actually see other black people

When he’s older and deals with Black Panther there will be a much more intense depth between them. He’s half Wakandian and now T’Challa has to face his own nationalism and cultured isolation from other people. As this is a man who’s from both worlds.

A important aspect of Bi-Racial people’s issues with never being ‘one race enough’ to be part of their own culture and the issues with finding your own identity

One of Kraven’s preys is Black Panther, for you movie watchers, so this adds more important layers. A concept of Sergei wanting to be accepted, but T’Challa sees him as a outsider

His emotional ties to Africa hold more depth. It’s not just being a master hunter, but trying to find himself given what his father took away with his mothers death

A reason why he ends up with Calypso. A attempt for some connection

Sasha is his Russian half while Calypso is his African half

There will also be the explanation why his children look so much like him and act like him. The x gene. They each have a different type of cat gene. Like Ana being a snow leopard compared to her fathers lion

These two changes really help fill in a lot of plot holes and concepts. Makes everything feel more natural and makes sense. Along with keep true to comics with its social commentary about real world issues and its impacts on society

To help explain another heavy depth to his chronic depression, his roots, his family, why he does things

This is an inside look to MY Kraven. Aka Marvel Rivals Kraven

[billfinarts]

My Black Panther oc, Kijani!

The second part of my Marvel fanon story after showing Beastmonger is this pretty boy. I've had Kijani sitting like many ocs and stories since 2018, and it has been so fun revamping him and other characters!

Son of the Unworthy King.

[questingmesmer]

Wakanda needs more hero’s. :)

[sumzskull]

Marvel x reader(REQUESTS OPEN!)

Feel free to request any marvel x reader , anyone any time anywhere (if it’s the MCU)

Including: smut , fluff, angst and many more

((I will not do illegal such as pedophilia , rape and other disturbing story’s ))

[fruitmilkshake]

Nakia and her giant bestie; Tonowari :D

They're Getting along ya'll!

[heckcareoxytwit]

A preview of Predator vs. Black Panther #4

PREDATOR VS BLACK PANTHER #4

A KING PREDATOR TAKES THE WAKANDAN THRONE?! The invading Predator clan takes their final trophies! They think they’ve defeated the king of Wakanda, but they’ve forgotten he’s not the only royalty who can wield a spear… Princess Shuri recruits a surprising ally as she infiltrates the shadows of her own city! Meanwhile, T’Challa turns the jungle to his advantage. Don’t miss the conclusion of Benjamin Percy’s latest Predator epic and the next step in the Predators’ plans for Earth!

Written By: Benjamin Percy Art By: Chris Allen Cover By: Ken Lashley, Juan Fernandez Page Count: 32 pages Release Date: November 20, 2024

[womeninfictionandirl]

Nakia by Phil Noto