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Biden signs "historic" executive order to protect LGBTQ people — Axios

President Biden signed an executive order Wednesday to strengthen protections for people in the LGBTQ community as states attempt to pass a

This is genuinely a major good story that needs to be shared! Biden has also been active in pushing the DOJ to fight in the courts the Republican laws that have been set up against lgbt youths and their families across republican led states.

👀 is is too much to ask? *cough* Luisa Madrigal *cough*

*cough* Natasha Romanoff *cough*

REBLOG IF YOU WANT A LOVE LETTER FROM A FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN YOUR ASK BOX NOW

AND I WILL DO EVERY SINGLE ONE, BASED ON YOUR BLOG.

EVERY

SINGLE

ONE

I totally agree with this because it all makes sense. I don’t think there would’ve been a better one for Dolores, Camilo and Antonio.

Ok since I’ve seen A LOT of things talking about how the madrigals come in threes and how pepa,Bruno and julieta represent the past present and future so like what if all of the kids represented something in threes

Julieta, Pepa and Bruno (past present and future)

Julieta is obviously past since she heals injury’s that’s have already happened

Pepas power relies on how she’s feeling in the present for what weather will happen

And Bruno’s power is literally predicting the future so that all makes sense

Isabella, Luisa and Mirabel (Beauty, Brawns and Brains)

Mirabel describes Isabella being the Beauty and that makes sense with her being seen as perfect by eveyone

She also describes Luisa as the Brawns which makes sense considering her power is super strength

Which leaves Mirabel to either be the brains or the heart but honestly I think brains suits her personality better

Dolores, Camilo and Antonio (hear no evil, see no evil and say no evil)

Honestly Delores, Camilo and Antonio were the hardest to figure out but I think Delores might represent hear no evil with her power

Camilo would be see no evil considering how he can turn into people he’s seen, because I’m pretty sure he has to have seen the person before to shift into them

And Lastly Antonio would be say no evil with his ability to speak to animals!

I know it’s a stretch I just think it’s a cool idea that all the madrigal family represent something in a way, also I think alma and pedro represent life and death with Pedro death being the think that helps alma give life to the candle and the house

Why is this so true tho … well there women Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff and Luisa Madrigal

Y/n: I’ve come to a conclusion—

Yelena: Oh my god.

Y/n: I would give away my life for two woman, Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff.

Yelena: Second gay confession in one hour. New record.

This was … yeah

100/10 would recommend

could you do an okoye x reader, where the reader went on a mission even though okoye didn’t want them to go because of how dangerous it was, and they end up going missing for a while?

please bare with me💀 this is my first request 😭

ꜱʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀɴᴅ

Pairing: General Okoye x Black!Fem!Reader

Genre: Fic

Synopsis: When you go MIA during a mission in America, the search for you has Okoye coming to terms with her true emotions. 

Warnings: one-sided pining in the beginning, cursing, mentions of main character death (T’Challa’s passing), reader is injured, mentions of blood, implied friends with benefits, maybe some ooc okoye and shuri

A/N: This is a whopping 10.5k word count, the longest anything that I've ever written, so prepare to sit for a minute with this reading!! Present time takes place during BP2, past/flashbacks take place during BP1. Some songs to listen to while reading: Lauren Hill's "Ex-Factor", "When It Hurts So Bad", and "I Used To Love Him" ft. Mary J. Blige ;; Tate McRae's "uh oh", "that way" and "you broke me first".

Tags: @verachii @inmyheadimobsessed @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @chrome-edition @bestfriend491 @daddyshuri

It had been three days since any last known contact between you and Wakanda. 

Aneka and Ayo had never witnessed their general in such distress. Okoye was possibly the most skilled in the Dora Milaje when it came to masking emotions. It was a tactic taught to the warriors so they could not be read and exploited through their emotions. A tactic taught ferociously by Okoye herself. To see the woman’s mask cracking brought worry to the two high-level Dora’s.

The general kept fidgeting with the holographic screen. With Princess Shuri’s lab being one of very few places able to track locations via kimoyo beads Okoye found herself taking after the gifted scientist, confining herself to the pristine white premises. She had been stuck in the same never-ending loop; typing in your last name and mission location only for it to come up as ‘unavailable’ in bright, red, blocky letters on the screen. She would get frustrated, grumbling curses under her breath, her clear-polished nails scratching the surface of the counter top.

It was clear Okoye’s only consolation would be you back on Wakandan soil.

“Is she still at it?” A voice called behind the two guards. Each turned to their side to see Princess Shuri walking down the corridor. The young royal’s attire never ceased to amaze the militant warriors, ever faithful in their tradition, compared to the futuristic aesthetic the princess held.

The two guards executed the proper Wakandan solute to the gifted scientist, of which Shuri returned with a tight smile. The sight of the general, her long-time companion, swiping and pressing away at the holographic screen with haste, confirmed Shuri’s suspicions. 

“Since six o’clock this morning, princess,” Ayo confirmed.

“And still nothing, I presume?” Shuri asked. The silence of the two guards, and their sympathetic glances to their general, was enough of an answer for Shuri.

“Is there nothing that can be done?” Aneka questioned.

Technically speaking, without the kimoyo beads, tracking via technology would be rendered useless. The last known trace of (Y/N) was in a body of water - a Great Lake in the US, to be precise. If the two could pinpoint a starting location for a city along said lake…

“There may be,” Shuri whispered, more to herself than to the two Dora soldiers. “Would you two give us a moment?”

Aneka and Ayo saluted to the princess, before briskly walking to the end of the corridor to take up position there. With each woman taking their stance against each wall of the corridor entryway, a sigh of relief was released simultaneously.

“I sincerely hope this is able to be resolved soon,” Aneka comments, “I can’t bear to witness General Okoye in such distress.”

“Glory to Bast, be it so,” Ayo responds. “You do know why she is on such a sharp edge?”

Aneka looked at Ayo, subtle confusion painting her face. “(Y/N) is her best friend, is she not?”

At this, Ayo released a small chuckle. “I will tell you this so that you may understand, my love. But make no mistake - the General and (Y/N) have more to their relationship than what meets the eyes.”

“No, not that way! You are using too much force!” The distant voice of Princess Shuri rings in Ayo’s ears as she recalls the memory, of which she was subject to due to her guard station being inside the laboratory at the time.

(Y/N), who had become the subject of Shuri’s weapon testing for the day, was testing out a new toy the princess had forged. The armorer was always willing to indulge in the princess’s antics, much to the distaste of General Okoye, who grounded herself in the traditional use of the signature Dora spear.

“You never said anything about force dynamics, Princess!” (Y/N) retorts, playfully of course. The two had a sort of older sister-younger sister relationship, and so it wasn’t uncommon to see the two bicker whenever they were in each other’s presence.

“Perhaps being around so many spears has made your mind one-tracked. Anyone would think to not lunge it that hard,” Shuri shot back, “you could have broken through the window!”

“Do you see how she talks to me, Ayo?” (Y/N) scoffs to the guard stationed at the threshold of the lab. “I greatly donate my time and this is how she treats me! My heart is wounded, dear princess!”

“You should be thankful that I save you from the torture of which Okoye puts you through! I hear training with her leaves all the Dora in excruciating pain!” Shuri retaliates, as she moves over to the holographic screen to swipe and type away.

Ayo laughs as the scene plays out - it was always an entertaining shift whenever (Y/N) visited the laboratory.

“Excruciating pain, eh? Shall I give you a taste of it?” 

In a split second, (Y/N)’s arms are around Shuri’s midsection, and the princess shrieks as she is swung around like a sack of yams. It is a sight that makes many of the laboratory staff pause their projects and take a short break to witness the playful interaction, laughter being shared amongst everyone in the room. Even the Dora warriors who stand guard break their stoic personas, letting a smile or a chuckle pass through their masks at Shuri’s pleads to be put down, unhanded by the stronger woman.

Just as quickly as the atmosphere in the laboratory warmed up into something familial, the laughter and the murmuring comes to a halt. It is quickly replaced with the stone cold silence native to this space, and when (Y/N) puts Shuri down, she realizes why everything has suddenly went quiet.

King T’Challa and General Okoye have arrived.

(Y/N) was quick to put up her salute to the king and Okoye as mortification ricocheted throughout her body. While she and the princess were more like sisters than royal and subject, T’Challa’s new title made the armorer unsure of how her actions would be perceived.

(Y/N) went to apologize for her behavior, but T’Challa cut her off before she could speak, “As you were, (Y/N).”

She dropped her arms from the ‘x’ position on her chest, and stood straight to meet T’Challa’s eyes. The king had a smirk on his lips, “I think I will just take a hug - I do not wish to be thrown around like a sack of yams.”

The king’s playfulness made your embarrassment from earlier sink away, as you first clasped your hands together, pulled them away with a snap, and ending the shake with a first bump and a side hug. Though your hug could not be initiated, as Shuri hurriedly shoved her way in between the two of you. Like the child she was, she stuck her tongue out at you while wrapping herself around her brother’s midsection.

“Do you see this, my king?” You scoff, referencing the lack of manners  on the princess’s behalf.

“Shuri, I am starting to think you deserved to be swung around like a sack of yams,” says T’Challa, his large hand coming down to ruffle the girl’s head of braids. Shuri protested this, pushing his hand off with a huff. “You are my brother! You should be on my side-!”

“-and what side is that, princess?” (Y/N) cut her off with a snarky look on her face. “The side of which taunts her subjects?”

“I think you have more than my taunting to worry about, (Y/N).” Shuri retorts, sticking her nose up at (Y/N). The armorer is confused for a moment before she follows Shuri’s gaze to Okoye, who stands next to T’Challa, examining her nails. Suddenly, (Y/N) remembers something important in regards to the general.

“So, this is where you hide when it is time for the scheduled maintenance work on the spears?”

Shit, that was today.

“Um…” (Y/N) attempts to try and find an excuse to justify her forgetful nature, but all that comes out of her mouth is a questionable “no?”

“Ooooo, (Y/N)’s gonna get iiiittt!” Shuri taunts the armorer, as if her antics did not play a part in this confrontation. T’Challa takes his free hand and flicks Shuri’s forehead, to which the young scientist winces audibly. “Be nice, Shuri.” He scolds. 

At that moment, Shuri conveniently remembers she had something to show her older brother, and she whisks the clueless man off to the lower level of the laboratory. Leaving (Y/N) to face Okoye’s wrath alone. How cheeky of her.

“Okoye, I can explain-”

“You were testing incredulous weaponry again.”

“In my defense, she asked me!”

Okoye scoffs as she turns on her heel to leave. (Y/N) follows closely behind, stuttering about how it was actually a decent weapon and that she could give it a try - but Okoye ignores her excuses as she continues her beeline out of the laboratory. (Y/N) stops as she is just at the threshold, meeting eyes with Aneka.

“Pray for me, Ayo, I fear I have gotten on her bad side again.”

“In Bast’s name, you make it out of that armory alive.” says the Dora with a sympathetic smile, as (Y/N) continues her trudge in Okoye’s footsteps.

Though it was not her first time witnessing such an interaction between the two, Ayo could attest that the manner in which Okoye addressed you was not the same manner she would address her, or Aneka, or any Dora Milaje. In fact, it could easily be considered the easiest the military general has ever been on anyone. Ever.

“Our General is not forgiving, Aneka; you know this as well as I do,”

“This is true. However, the General is known to be apprehensive to change. Have you forgotten how she reprimanded me for using the knives Shuri gifted me?”

“I warned you not to bring them, my love-”

“While that may be true, I disagree that that encounter alone would be enough to solidify the idea that (Y/N) and the general are more than good friends.”

Aneka did have a point. To anyone outside of Okoye’s inner circle, the encounter could still be deemed as Okoye being her normal, authoritative self, someone who mocks technology despite its evident positive service in the advancement of the country. Okoye was a traditional woman through and through, and where she mocked technological science, you embraced it. Anyone could see how that would cause bickering between.

“There is another incident…” Ayo began, hesitance laced in her voice, “an incident I was not meant to see.”

“You would think, as head of the armory, you would be more careful around sharp objects,” Okoye scolded, her attention focused on your hand as she worked to disinfect the wound. In an attempt to catch a falling spear, the blade cut into your flesh. The injury sustained was not so dire in which you had to seek medical attention from Shuri, but the wound would make it difficult to work with your hand for a while, as the gash was from the place between your thumb and forefinger and straight across your hand.

You winced as the antiseptic was used on your hand, the slight sting of the liquid bringing you discomfort. “In my defense, I underestimated the length of the spear.”

“‘In my defense’ my arse,” Okoye scoffed, her use of profanity wasn’t common in her nature. She only used it around you, someone she didn’t have to hold her authoritative persona up around, “you need to be more careful. You can not run to me whenever you are hurt. We are not children anymore.”

“Oh, but you have always been better at healing me than anyone, Okoye,” you chimed at the woman, who rolled her eyes at your silliness. In an attempt to defy your statement, the general pulled the gauze wrap around your hand a bit too tight. It caused you to gasp in pain, but it became quickly apparent what Okoye was doing. “You- Bast, why do you insist on hurting me?” You remark, as Okoye returns to wrapping your wound.

At the time, there was a hidden message in those words, a message neither of you were truly ready to confront.

“I hope this will teach you to be more mindful of where you put your hands,” Okoye said with a sigh as she packed up the first-aid kit. She stood, and walked with the kit in hand to return it to it’s rightful storage place in the corner of the armory room.

“I do not recall that being an issue the other night.”

“Oh, Bast, purge this woman’s mind of the filth she speaks!”

Okoye’s reaction caused you to laugh hysterically. It was jokes like these that could only be shared between the two of you in certain privacy. Okoye had an image to uphold, and you understood that. Even so, it did not stop you from your attempts at flustering the woman, even more so freely now that you did not have to share her with her husband anymore.

Okoye returned to your side, taking your hand into hers and examining her work. “How does it feel?”

“It’s fine, it’s alright.”

“Not to tight now, right?”

“Okoye, it’s fine.”

“No, it doesn’t look wrapped right-” You cut Okoye’s words short by taking your uninjured hand and grasping onto her wrists, restraining them in your lap. Your bandaged hand went to cup her cheek, the clean white of the gauze contrasting greatly, yet beautifully, with her cocoa-colored skin.

“It. Is. Fine. You did good, do not worry yourself over a simple cut.” You chastised, your voice soft yet firm to the general.

Okoye begrudgingly allowed her hands to relax in your grip, and to lean in to your hand. A moment of silence was shared between the two of you.

“How do you feel?” You asked, after what felt like forever staring into her eyes. Eyes of which held so, so much, in such a small, small window.

“I am…” the general’s words trailed off as she averted her gaze elsewhere. For Okoye, this was not a simple question to answer.

She had lost her husband to treachery, his mind blinded by revenge so much so that he went against his own country, forcing her to take a stance she never thought she’d have to take, but nonetheless, stepped up to the occasion. This was the man she married, the man she hoped to bear children with, to leave behind a legacy of love and loyalty to each other, to their people, to their country.

And it was gone, just like that. “How does one feel when their entire world was stripped from them?”

It was a question you couldn’t even ask yourself, as you couldn’t even begin to put yourself in her shoes.

The general took your uninjured hand into hers, squeezing it tightly for comfort. “I am here. I am with you. That is…all I can be, right now.”

It took everything in you to not take that second statement out of context, close to heart. Yet, you couldn’t stop your heart from swelling with pride at the idea that Okoye deemed you worthy of her presence, when everyone else she had casted away.

“And I am here with you, my friend.” you replied, though the word ‘friend’ had become harder and harder to speak nowadays. You returned the gesture, squeezing her hand to let her know that she was not alone. 

“And I thank you for being here with me, through all of this,” Okoye uttered, “you have stood by my side through everything. Glory to Bast that she has blessed me with such a friend as you.”

Where your heart once swelled with pride, was deflated by the confirmation of your friendship. And when Okoye brung herself to wrap her arms around your neck in a close hug, your heart battled ferociously with what emotions you should allow yourself to feel. 

To be in her warmth was all you’ve ever wanted; to bask in her love was a thought you guiltily indulged in every night. Yet, the reality of it all, was that the only way to gain even the closest proximity of being deemed worthy of her affections, was through the friendship you had maintained since you were children.

If the only way to feel her love and affection was through the lenses of friendship, then you would break your own heart every time with the mention of the word. Anything was worth keeping Okoye content.

It was only when the general had left to attend to other business, and you heard the massive door to the armory close shut, that you let the tears that had been prickling at the brim of your eyes, fall onto the white gauze wrapped around your hand, dampening the fabric to a soft gray of despair.

Aneka remained silent after Ayo finished her recollection of a few months prior. She did not know what stunned her more, the fact that Okoye had only been open to (Y/N) about her emotional turmoil of everything thus far, or the fact that the general, who prized herself on reading opponents skillfully, had been oblivious to her supposed best friend’s true feelings after all.

“Convinced now, my love?”

“Indeed so.”

It was a tragic love story indeed. However, the two hoped that it wasn’t too late, that this love story would not end prematurely.

“Ayo, Aneka!”

Shuri’s voice could be heard down the corridor, Each warrior peered their head down the hall, as Shuri walked briskly towards them. “Gear up. We leave in an hour.”

“Gear up?”

“Leave?”

When Shuri made it to the end of the corridor, she turned to face the two. “We have a location. It is not concrete, and we have to move fast. It has been three days too long, we cannot waste another second.”

Ayo and Aneka looked at each other, then back to Shuri. With a nod and salute, the pair of Dora rushed to prepare for departure.

The first thing that hits you when your consciousness returns, is the water.

It’s very distinctive. The smell, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. The seagulls that make their home in nests along the rocky cliffs near the body of water. 

It’s peaceful. Serene. There’s an urge to return to the neutral comfort of unconsciousness, but something tells you to resist. A calm, soothing voice, easing you away from the darkness of slumber, coaxing you to tread into the blinding, warm light. The further you fall into it, the clearer the voice becomes.

You reluctantly peel your eyes open. Your vision is blurry, and there's an uncomfortable ringing in your ears. Everything begins to hit you all at once; the pounding headache that crashes in waves through your skull, the soreness of your body, especially in your midsection, and the overwhelming feeling that you’re not supposed to be here.

Then again, where exactly is ‘here’?

And who exactly were you?

It takes a moment for you to notice the young girl who hovers above you, a worried look on her face. You see that she calls out to someone, but your hearing is still slightly overwhelmed by the persistent ringing in your ears.

Your body begins to act on its own. Despite the intense pain that swarms you when you move, you attempt to sit up. Your back finds something hard and wooden to lean against, giving you a wider view of your surroundings. You are starting to have questions, and someone needs to answer them.

It’s as if your thoughts were spoken into existence, as another figure, older than the young girl who sits beside you, enters from the wooden doorway. It’s here you finally notice that you are outside, on some patio, connected to some cabin like structure. This is why you were able to be soothed by the sound of the waters - a massive lake is a few mere meters away.

You hear the older woman ushering the child inside. In her hand she holds a cup, and your mind begins to wonder what could be inside. Water? Tea? Or perhaps something more sinister.

No, this woman doesn’t give off a sinister aura. If anything, she seems to be a caretaker. The same questions begin to muddle in your head more profoundly - where were you, who were you, and what happened to you?

The woman approaches you slowly, with her free hand held into view to show she was not a threat. While your body tensed in defense, you allowed her into your space. She didn’t pose an immediate threat, but you had to keep your guard up while your senses were still recovering.

“You’re awake; that’s good. You were out for a minute there,” She speaks, though her voice is still slightly muffled. Once she’s kneeled at your side, she positions the cub in her hand to your lips, urging you to drink. “Trust me, you need it.”

Slowly, you allow the liquid from the cup to flow into your mouth. It’s water - cold, refreshing, and for the first time since you’ve woken up you realize just how parched you are. With some unknown strength you managed to conjure up, you take the cup from the woman's hand and down the rest of the water in one gulp. The feeling of it washes through your being, and now you can feel some sense of strength return to your body.

“Where am I…?” you ask, voice hoarse and raspy from lack of hydration. The cup is discarded at your side, opposite of which the woman sits.

“You’re at my cabin; I live here on the lakefront,” She answers. “We  found you a couple of days ago washed up on the shore. You were hurt pretty bad, we did the best we could-”

“We?” You questioned, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Myself and the children,” The woman clarifies. “The girl that was just here, Yasmine, she found you when she was outside collecting from our garden. Saw your body near the water and came to get me.”

Your head stiffly follows to where she points to - an area a little bit off into the distance where other children currently played. 

“My name is Shara,” the woman speaks once more, and you nod in acknowledgement. “Do you remember anything?”

You shook your head no, but the pain from your head caused you to wince audibly. With your vision clearing up, you could finally take in the woman who helped you. Dark skin, long locs with gold and silver adornments. She wore earth tones and sported an oversized cardigan that covered much of the top half of her body, her bottom half covered in a long, flowing skirt.

Shara took note of your response, as well as looking over your midsection. Your shirt was pinned up just below your breasts, which gave easier access to your stomach area. White gauze was wrapped around your midsection with a spot on your lower right stomach bleeding through with a dull red.

“It’s about time to change your bandages again,” She noted, as she began to stand up.

You were confused at first, until you slowly looked down to see your midsection expertly bandaged up. It made sense now why your abdomen hurts way more than anywhere else on your body.

Shara muttered that she would be back in a moment, leaving you alone on the patio. You turned your head to the lake, staring at the way the waters met with the shores, then pulled back, only to do so once more; your mind began traveling somewhere deep into the banks of your memory.

The waves crashed against the shoreline, the sound of land meeting water overwhelming your senses. Your eyes were closed as you took in your surroundings through your other senses. The dry sand that your feet stood on, the boulder of which you sat on, the smell of the water, the sound of the waves and the birds. It was home to you. The waters brought you solace in distress, and validated your rage, accepting you in silence for who you were.

Okoye had asked you to meet her here at dusk, and yet, you found yourself on the sandy shores an hour earlier. Whatever she wanted to talk about, it had to have been important, and whether it was good news or bad, the urgency of which she called you made anxiety pool in your stomach. Your mind still tried to guess what she may have wanted. Though, the guessing game was cut short when you saw her approaching in the distance.

Once she was close enough, you stood from your seat on the bolder, and you walked side by side along the shoreline. She on the side of water, you on the side of land.

“Now, what could be so important that you would drag me all the way out here to tell me?” You ask, your tone playful. The question brings a smile to her face; a genuine smile, a beautiful one. It makes your heart skip a beat. You could compare it to the brightness of the sun.

Though you know the answer to part of your own question. Okoye was never one to show emotion around other people. It had been this way since your childhood years. You were thankful to Bast that she deemed you worthy of being present in her more vulnerable states.

“Oh, please. You act as if you did not want a reason to escape from that dark, dingy armory chamber,” She shoots back, nudging you with her shoulder. You  returned the favor, a chuckle escaping your lips. “Perhaps…but that does not answer my question, General.”

Okoye takes a deep breath, glancing at you from the corner of her eye. “Do you remember the man who courts me?”

“Yes. W’Kabi of the Border Tribe…He does not have a face one can forget.” You reply, a hint of mischief in your voice in the way you describe the Border Tribe member.

“(Y/N)!”

“I am simply saying he has a very…distinguishable face! Nothing More!’

You did not like this W’Kabi man. Frankly, you never liked anyone who approached Okoye in an attempt to enact courtship. They all had ill intentions, which were proven right thanks to your keen perception. And for the most part, Okoye would take heed to your advice and steer away from these suitors.

Your feelings had no dealing in those matters, and neither did they this one.

However, Okoye was stubborn when it came to W’Kabi. Despite your numerous attempts at telling her to keep the man at arms length, Okoye was certain that he was the one for her. He had proven himself worthy to be a suitor and while he left an ill-taste in your mouth, Okoye was strong in her decision, and so you relented. Even if you did feel a tightness in your chest whenever you saw the two together.

“Well…he has proposed.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. Suddenly, the crashing waves were no longer comforting; they became violently overwhelming as your chest began to tighten in an emotion you could not put a name to, did not know you could feel.

W’Kabi…proposed?

“-(Y/N), did you not hear me?”

The general had stopped a feet or two in front of you, looking at you with a raised brow. Okoye’s voice grounds you, clears your hearing, but the tightness in your chest still lingers. “W-What?”

“I said, do not be upset now that you may have to share me.”

You were quick to come up with a cover, though whether or not she was able to see the crack in your persona, you did not know. You just had to keep the conversation going.

“I am just surprised…did not think he had the gall to do it.” You replied, a truthful statement be it so, but nonetheless, a coverup for what you really wanted to say.

“Yes, indeed. I did not think so either.”

As breathtaking as her smile was, and even though mere moments ago it had warmed your heart, it cut you deeply to know that she was smiling for another. Another man. Another man who had proposed to her-

“And what of you?”

“I accepted.”

-Another man she is to wed.

Okoye took two steps towards you, closing the distance between the two of you. She takes hold on your hands, and makes direct eye contact with you. You struggled to hold her gaze, but in order to keep it together, you persisted.

“I accepted, and I want you there.”

‘Bast, have you forsaken me?’ You thought.

“You are the only friend I have ever known. The only person I have ever truly trusted. Even as children, you have stood beside me. Protected me. We have protected each other. And if I am to wed, I need you there beside me.”

Without thinking, you nodded. “Of course, Okoye. You will have me there.”

And while on the outside you were grateful for Okoye finally finding her happiness, on the inside, a piece of you died, knowing that not only does her heart belong to another, you would have to watch her marry a man who’s place should have been yours.

“According to my calculations, we should be in our target area by nightfall.”

The princess’s words were exact, and with Ayo and Aneka piloting the triangular shaped ship, the four would arrive at their destination in no time.

“Once we touch ground, we will split up into teams of two - Ayo and Aneka will search north, Okoye and I will search south…”

Shuri, noticing that Okoye was not paying attention to the breakdown of the plan, released a soft sigh as she turned off the holographic screen above the sand table that sat in the middle of the aircraft. 

For the most part, Shuri, Aneka and Ayo were still unaware of the cause of this entire ordeal. Shuri had her suspicions, after being approached by her mother, Queen Ramonda, of how (Y/N) came to her and the council specifically to request permission for a week-long extraction mission. (Y/N), a palace official in charge of weaponry, who barely left palace grounds since her instatement as Royal Armorer, requested an extraction mission on the other side of the world to recover an artifact of Wakandan origins; the item in question being laced with vibranium.

Something was not right, and the queen-mother brought this up to Shuri in hopes that the princess could get some answers out of Okoye in a more gentle manner, that wasn’t just responding to an authoritative figure.

For Shuri, (Y/N) was an older sister. Someone who could confide in when she could not even turn to her mother. (Y/N) trained Shuri in basic combat, assisted the princess in weapon testing, and even entertained the princess when she went on pranking tyraids in her youth. The armorer was a comforting shoulder for the princess during the mourning period of T’Challa’s death, and provided a sense of stability to her. Of course, (Y/N)’s actions were off. And Shuri had an idea why.

“General Okoye, may I speak with you for a moment?” Shuri says as she starts to walk towards the exit at the back of the pilot cabin. Okoye acknowledged the words the princess spoke, but for some reason, did not not show signs of movement. “In private, please.”

Aneka and Ayo shared a look, and then their gaze connected to Okoye’s. The general, who had been deep in thought, fiddling with her spear, placed the weapon back into its holding rack, and followed the princess outside of the pilot cabin. Aneka and Ayo were left to pilot the ship, conjuring up theories as to what the Princess needed to speak to Okoye about in private.

Leading the Dora general into the cargo section of the ship, Shuri turned on her heel to face the general, and began to unfold her interrogation. “You seem distracted, general. Would you care to speak your mind?”

Okoye stood firm and straight, and while she wore the mask she always dawned as a faithful member of the Dora Milaje, Shuri could see that pieces of it were beginning to crack. “I am simply worried about (Y/N), Princess.”

“We all are, Okoye,” Shuri replied. She took a couple of steps towards the warrior, closing the distance between them. “It is just me, Okoye, there is no need to be so stiff.”

Shuri watched for a moment as Okoye;s figure began to ease from the aforementioned stiff position she took. One could tell that the weight of this mission was getting to her.

“We all are worried for (Y/N),” Shuri reiterated, “so in order for this rescue mission to be successful, I need to know what happened between you and her.”

There was a moment of silence. Shuri kept a close eye on Okoye’s face as the general searched for an explanation. And that was when she saw it.

Another crack in the general’s mask.

“We had a…disagreement on a certain matter, nothing more-”

“Okoye, do not-” Shuri stopped herself mid-sentence to compose her voice, taking another step closer to the general. They were face to face now.

“Okoye, this is (Y/N) we are talking about here. (Y/N), the Royal Armorer, who never leaves city grounds, let alone palace grounds. (Y/N), who dedicates her life for the betterment of the Wakandan armed forces via her position as weapons specialist.”

Shuri pauses, taking a breath, and when seeing Okoye’s eyes divert once more, she continues in her speech.

“One month ago, everything was fine. I would even go as far as to say things were like how they were before when Brother was alive. And then, a week ago, (Y/N) goes to my mother and the council requesting a week-long extraction mission, in a very dangerous part of the world-”

“I told her not to go, Shuri-”

“And while that may be true, Okoye,” Shuri took another pause, watching Okoye’s face intently, “something else happened. Something else happened, between the two of you, and I need to know exactly what.”

Shuri’s eyes bore deep into Okoye’s searching for a sign of breakthrough into the general's psyche. If Okoye knew what was best, then she would confess whatever she was hiding.

Okoye turned away, stepped away until her side faced the princess. Raising a hand to her face, Okoye bit her fist, fighting back the urge to scream out her confession into the steel gray walls of the cargo cabin.

“It is my fault,” the general choked out, as she knocked her fist into her forehead out of frustration.

“What is your fault, Okoye?” Shuri asks, approaching the general once more. Okoye turns back to face the princess after a moment of self-contemplation. Her mask has fallen.

“Everything,” Okoye whispers, as she recalls the night of your argument as if it had happened the night prior.

“I deserve an explanation, Okoye!”

Your voice rose higher than the sound of the crashing waves, as you marched after the general ahead of you. It was nightfall, with the moon high in the sky and the stars shining bright in the blanket of night. Despite the beauty that the scene may have held, havoc was about to be wreckin.

“Leave me be, (Y/N)!” Okoye warned, several steps ahead of you. She did not want to talk right now; about anything, and sure not about you.

The warrior felt your hand grip onto her forearm and spin her around to face you. Your face held many emotions, as did hers, but you could not care how far your mask had slipped. You had already laid bare everything you had felt for Okoye months ago. Both of you in a drunken daze, one high on love, the other drowning in heartache. One thing led to another, and the morning after, you found yourself having to sneak back into your room before you were to meet with Shuri about weapon modifications.

You had suspected it to be a one night thing, an event never to be spoken of out of the confines of each other's presence. But when Okoye found comfort in your arms, something you had always dreamed of becoming reality, your heart gave in to her whims. Night after night, you would forget the world in which the two of you lived in, and indulge in each other. A world in which her husband was banished from Wakanda, dissolving their marriage, and her heart aches for the traitor she married. A world in which she would never see you as the lover you wished to be. A world in which you selfishly wished Okoye would be yours, and you hers. A world in which she would never return your affections.

And yet, the more it keeps happening, the more you’d wake up in her arms, in awe of the halo that adorned her dark, half-covered figure from the sunrise seeping into your room, the more you hoped that maybe, just maybe, things would be different.

Perhaps you were foolish to will yourself to believe things would turn out in your favor. But you did not initiate anything, and you have done no wrong against Okoye, so what reason did she have to pull away?

“I will do no such thing,” you retorted. “Why? After so long, why is it now that you wish to stop?”

“I told you- I cannot do this anymore-” Okoye replied, using her hands to gesture between the two of you, “-this, whatever this is, I can’t do it!”

“And what is it that we do, Okoye?” You questioned. “Love? Act as lovers? If it had stopped after that night, I’d understand, but you- you continued! You came back to me, again, and again, and again, and I let you!”

“It was a mistake to begin this in the first place!” The general blurted out. “What reason do we have to continue?”

“What reason do we have not to?!”

“(Y/N), please-” Okoye choked out, reaching out for your hand, “I do not need this right now- I just need you to stand beside me-”

“I HAVE STOOD BESIDE YOU!” 

You yanked your hand away, and to this, Okoye flinched. Of all your years of knowing her, never once have you yelled or screamed at her. It is now that she sees your face - your eyes puffy and bloodshot from crying, tears running streaks down your face.

“I stood beside you when we were children,” You choked out through your tears, “I stood beside you when unworthy suitors came to your door, and you still gave them a chance. I stood beside you as you married a traitor, a man who’s place I could have been in! I stood beside you when Killmonger took the throne, and the Queen and Princess had to flee to Jabariland for protection! I stood beside you as you mourned your marriage! If I have done anything, I have always! Been! Beside you!”

Okoye is at a loss for words as she watches you brush a hand down your face, dampening your skin with the salty water that leaks from your eyes. “And yet, when I only ask to stay in your arms for a little while longer, suddenly my sacrifices are invalid? My love, is invalid?”

Okoye could not speak, whatever words she wanted to utter were stuck under the lump in her throat as her eyes began to swell with tears.

“I have lied to myself, hoping that one day, you would see my love for what it is truly worth. But I cannot live in a lie anymore. And if your wish is to leave you be….then so be it. But one thing will always remain clear,” Okoye’s eyes became fixated on your finger that pointed towards her in accusation.

“I have never not been by your side. No matter how much it killed me, I have always been there. And you, Okoye, Daughter of Wakanda, have just murdered the last of me.

“Thank you,” You replied, as Shara handed you a cup of tea.

She had changed your bandages earlier in the day, and since you had regained most of your strength, you were able to sit and stand on your own now. Shara was a natural healer, and you were thankful for her ability to patch you up so well.

It was nightfall now, the moon hanging high in the sky and the stars shining brightly alongside it. The children of Shara’s cabin played near the water a bit into the distance. The sight of them having fun and enjoying themselves brought a smile to your face.

Shara sat next to you, hiding her hands under her arms to keep them warm from the cool night air. “How are you feeling?”

“Nothing is as sore anymore. Aside from not remembering anything, and…obviously, the injury, I cannot complain.” You reply. “Though…earlier, I had this…recollection, of sorts. Of a memory.”

“Really?” Shara whispered, shocked.

You nodded, staring into the cup of tea she had handed you. “Of a woman. We stood at a beach, similar to this one. She skin was dark, the color of coffee beans. Her eyes held wonders. And her smile…it was as bright as the sun itself.”

Shara tilted her head a bit with a chuckle, “You sure you didn’t love her?”

“I….I think I did.” You confirmed. “But…she was to wed another. And while it was only a memory, I felt the tightness in my chest just as intensely.”

“That’s…so sad. I’m so sorry.”

“If it is true, then there is nothing I can do. Especially in this state, with no memory.”

There is a comfortable silence that falls between the two of you as you both watch the children in the distance attempting to catch fireflies. The struggling of the smaller ones made you chuckle, as well as Shara, as the older children try to teach them how to catch the fireflies gently.

“I am curious,” You begin, turning your head to face the healer, “what is your story? How are you connected to this place?”

“Hm, well, I’ve lived here most of my life.” Shara began, raising her knees to her chest and placing her chin on them. “My mom died when I was pretty young. My father didn’t want me to be surrounded by grief, and so we relocated here. He built this cabin with his own two hands. And the children you see playing, well, he adopted them in a sense.”

You nodded along to her story as your took your first sip of the tea she had made you, relishing in the flavor and the warmth that pooled into your stomach from it.

“He died two years ago. He was the person that taught me everything I know about healing and spiritual herbalism. And I pass that teaching onto the children here. We are his legacy. One day they’ll go out into the world, learn more, teach more. And then their pupils will go further out and learn more and teach more. It was kind of my dads dream, you see. He wanted to cultivate the next generation of healers. I swore to myself that I would continue his dream after he passed.”

“You are a good daughter. Your father is proud, in whatever plane of existence he resides in.”

Shara watches as you take another sip of the tea, a proud smile making its way onto her lips. “Do you like it?”

“It is definitely a good drink. What is it, exactly?”

Shara thought for a moment, before reply, “It’s something called Black Panther Lily? It’s from my father’s secret stash. It felt appropriate to give it to you,” her words trailed off as you looked at her, confused on the name. “Black Panther Lily?”

“Mhm. I believe he said he got it from Wakanda?”

“Wakanda, you say…”

At the mention of the country, your eyes trailed back to the cup holding the delicious black liquid. The more you stared at your reflection in the cup, the deeper your mind seemed to travel back into your subconscious. The word kept ringing in your ears, and you could have sworn you heard it before.

Suddenly, the black liquid in the cup turned into dark onyx eyes, sported by the same woman who you had described for. You saw flashes of yourself with her, flashes of other people you were close with. Muffled words began to bleed into your ears, phrases of description, endearment, love, friendship. And your name…a montage of these people saying your name, and it became louder and louder until the voices became overwhelming and-

The next thing you know, the cup laid fallen on the ground, it’s context spilled and seeping into the earth below. Shara holds a hand on your upper harm, her face showing concern. You must have been out of it.

“Are you alright? You weren’t responding, I-”

“I know who I am now.”

Shara allowed her sentence to be cut off, as she released her hold on your arm, and looked at you with watchful eyes, seemingly asking you to reveal yourself.

“My name is (Y/N)...I am a daughter of Wakanda.” You muttered. It was at this moment you realized your wrist felt bare. Your other hand instinctively went to feel at the wrist which would normally be occupied by your kimoyo beads, but you found that space empty.

“Where are my beads?” You questioned the healer, as if she had any dea what you were talking about. She stared at you, confused for a moment, before her face turned to an expression that resembled realization. She got up quickly, disappearing into the doorway, only to return a moment later with a purple sack in her hand.

“I’m not sure what beads you’re talking about,” she confessed, “but when Yasmine found you, these remains were in the sand. We salvaged what we could find.”

You took the sack from her hands, opening the bag and examining the contents inside. Whatever had attacked you completely demolished your kimoyo beads, ruining any ideas you had for initiating communication back home. Also inside the bag were your twin blades, a gift to you from Shuri, and one of them had the blade separated from the hilt.

“And how long was I unconscious?” You questioned.

“Not counting today, three,” Shara replied, her worry growing, “what’s going on, (Y/N)?”

You muttered a curse under your breath. Three days since last contact, and a week and a half since you’ve been on Wakandan soil. They’re definitely looking for you.

It was at that moment a loud whirring sound made itself present, the volume startling the children. But it was what made the sound that had them running back to the cabin and rushing inside the wooden structure for safety. You and Shara stood up simultaneously; while she remained on high alert, her main goal being to guard the door and protect the children inside, you on the other hand, went to guard her. You were unsure of who was on the ship, but if it was any Dora, or worse, the General, it would be without a doubt they would suspect Shara as an enemy and attack. 

Once the massive ship had settled into it’s standby position, the mouth of the aircraft opened, and descending the walkpath were two women dressed in Dora Milaje attire, and the Princess, sporting one of her many futuristic streetwear outfits.

Your feet began to act on their own, taking a couple of steps towards the trio. Part of you was relieved that they found you. You remembered that before you blacked out, the last place you were was in the middle of the lake, retrieving a long lost artifact from a marine data collection ship. With your kimoyo beads being shattered, there was virtually no technological way of tracking your location. They would have had to go old school and search on foot. Had they?

As you made the conscious decision to stop walking, Shuri sprinted from Ayo and Aneka’s side, crashing into you with an embrace full of relief, thankful for your safety.

“Thank Bast you are safe!” The princess cried as you returned her hug, enveloping the younger woman in your arms. 

Though, what was a sweet moment turned sour when you felt her fist jab right into the area of injury.

“What were you thinking!?” Shuri shouted at you as you collapsed onto the ground, holding your midsection for dear life. “Are you a fool for taking on a mission such as this? You could have died! In all my years of knowing you, this is truly your most profound act of madness!”

“What the fuck did you just do!?” Shara’s shout of distress reminded you of her presence. You should have warned her of the princess’s rage, perhaps explain the relationship you two had, but it was all too late now.

“It’s fine, Shara!” you reassured through gritted teeth, “I deserved that- I really deserved that.”

It was a moment before the blinding pain had stopped. With the release of it being almost instantaneous, you could only assume Shuri had lifted your shirt from your back and slipped one of her kimoyo beads into the bandages to stablize the would she probably reopened. Once you were able to breath again, you confirmed as such by feeling the small bump underneath the white bandages on your back.

“I am getting you back for this, I hope you know,” you warned the princess as you sat up straight, now able to move without caution. Though, Shuri paid no mind to your warning, as she hugged you again, this time without ill intentions.

After your moment of embrace, you pulled away, remembering the healer behind you. It would be inappropriate to not introduce the two. Lifting Shuri up from her knees, you guided her closer to the cabin, where a shooken Shara still guarded the entrance way.

Shara attempted to warn you both to stay back, but you cut her off, “Shara, It’s okay. I am good, I promise. She poses no threat to you or the children.”

With your words, the healer seemed to relax a little, but still would not move from her position in the doorway.

“Shara, this is Princess Shuri of Wakanda. Shuri, this is Shara.” The princess and the healer exchanged an awkward wave, as Shara was still in disbelief of her actions towards you. “She started the healing process on my stomach - which I am sure you have reopened, thank you for that.”

“I apologize for frightening you,” Shuri said, a genuine look of regret painted on her face. “I promise you, I bring no harm. That is just, eh…how we are.”

“Uhuh…” Shara muttered, still overly confused by the entire ordeal.

“I guarantee you we have a stable, healthy sisterhood!”

Shara’s gaze turns to you, questioningly, “This is the woman you had that flashback about?”

It took a moment to remember what Shara was referencing, but once you did, you shook your head feverishly. “Oh-Oh hell no. This-This is my sister, I cannot imagine anyone who would want to date her-”

“Excuse me?” The princess says, with a facial expression equivalent of the phrase ‘say it again, I dare you’.

“I mean-” you backtracked, “-you are so lovely! Anyone would be grateful of your courtship!”

“That is what I thought.”

Though, reflecting on Shara’s words, you did notice that there were only two Dora accompanying Shuri, and not three.

Had Okoye not come? 

A part of you ached at the idea that she may not have come with them, but given the severity of your argument prior to your mission, if you were in her position, you would not come either.

You remember the harsh words you spoke to her, out of anger and desperation. It made you want to rip the kimoyo bead from your back and welcome back the pain in your abdomen, if it were to replicate whatever Okoye must have felt in that moment. How could you have hurt the woman you loved you deeply, with words that flew from your mouth based on emotion and not rationale.

You were too deep into your thoughts to notice that Shuri was gesturing for you to snap out of it. Apparently Shuri and Shara had been talking for a moment before noticing you had dissociated. You gently shook your head of the fuzz that formed in your mind, responding with a low “Huh?”

“Has she been doing this often?” Shuri asks, her question directed to Shara.

“It happened maybe once or twice earlier, but like i said, she’d been out of it until today.”

“Why do you wound my heart, princess…” You whined, feigning distress as you gripped your heart dramatically. The action brought a smile to Shuri and Shara’s face, and as they found entertainment in your dramatics, you bent down to pick up the purple sack long forgotten on the ground.

“As great as this encounter has been, we must return home,” Shuri's voice was filled with something along the lines of dejection, as if she did not want to leave this newfound acquaintance just yet. “Someone has some explaining to do.” The princess added on, and to you, her words held much more meaning than what meets the eye.

Shara nodded in response, ready to bid you two farewell. But as you began walking off with the princess, something along the lines of unease settled in your stomach. You could not distinguish the cause, but when you turned your head back to watch Shara reassure the children that were peaking their heads from the doorway, something deep inside urged you to ask her one final question.

You told Shuri and the pair of Dora that you would join them in a little bit, as you turned back to approach the cabin once more.

“Shara,” you called out, and the healer raised her head, diverting the attention she was giving to the child at her leg to you. As your feet stopped at the edge of the patio you found yourself waking up on early that morning, you inhaled deeply, clenching and unclenching your fists for grounding.

“Ungubani(Who Are You)?” You spoke in Xhosa.

There was a long pause as the two of you held eye contact for what felt like an eternity. Then she responded.

“I am T’Jari,” Shara answered, “daughter of N’Joba and Zusu.”

Your stomach’s unease was finally quelled.

“Did you know I was…?”

“I had my suspicions,” Shara confessed, “the pieces of those beads and the weapon I found scattered in the sand around you were unlike any technology I’ve ever seen before. Certainly not American. Her reference to the kimoyo beads and your twin blades made you instinctively grip onto the neck of the sack a bit tighter.

“It’s also why I gave you the Black Panther Lily tea,” Shara continues, “my father had a stash hidden away. If cultivated and used the right way, it’s properties can allow for memory restoration in the event of amnesia on any level. It was the first thing my father taught me…when my mothers health started to fail and her memory was leaving her…”

You recalled the story she had told you of her origins. A mothers death, a father’s wish for contentment for his daughter.

“Besides my name, everything else I said was true,” Shara responded to your silence, as if she knew you had been questioning the validity of her identity.

“Why don’t you come home?” You asked, without thinking, without taking into consideration how this cabin by the lake was the only home she’d ever known. “You could be a healer in Wakanda, and you could bring the children. Your skills rival that of the elders, I’m sure it would not be hard to find work-”

“I can’t, (Y/N),” Shara interrupts you, her face holding remorse. Her response silenced you. “I will not rip these children from the only home they’ve ever known, and I cannot tear myself away from this place my father built with his own two hands. And there are people here to teach, people who want to learn. I can’t leave,”

Her determination and drive reminded you of the war dogs of your country, those who valiantly serve the outside world, attempting to make it a better place for future generations to come. And from Shara’s appearance she reminded you of a certain war dog who stole the heart of a certain royal long ago.

“I understand.” You replied, solemnly.

“That doesn’t mean go and become a stranger,” Shara reassured, “I’m sure the princess knows my location now. Come and visit! Just…not washed up on the shore anymore.”

You laughed at Shara’s words, bidding her farewell, before turning on your heel and walking to the ship.

You found yourself sitting on the same boulder from your memory, feet firm on the ground, and the sound of the waves from the water crashing into the shore overwhelming your senses. The smell of the water was calming, and soothed your heavy heart.

You and Okoye had to talk.

Despite being on the same aircraft, neither of you were ready to speak. You shared an embrace with one another; she approached you first, crashing into you in a flash of red, and for a moment, everything that had been the cause of this whole ordeal washed away when you wrapped your arms around each other.

Besides that, there had been nothing but silence between the two of you since you’ve returned home. But you needed to talk. You needed to clear things up and apologize. You needed closure.

It was dusk. The sun sat half way along the horizon, casting a beautiful golden hour that made your skin glow like gold. But when you saw Okoye walking up from the distance, your breath caught in your throat by the wonders the golden shine did to hers.

You made space on the boulder for her to sit and for a moment, there was silence between you two. Your gaze was straight, admiring the way the water met with the shore, engulfing the sand, but pulling back, only to do the same thing again.

“Hi.”

“...Hi.” For the first time you found yourself unable to speak.

Another moment of silence passed before Okoye spoke again. “A lot has happened on this beach, hasn’t it?”

“Mmh,” was all you could muster. It was strange how the words you planned to say left the moment she came into your presence.

“I owe you an explanation,” she spoke again, but your eyes stayed steady on the water. “A pause.”

“I did not know how I felt about you. You were a friend to me,” ‘were’; past tense.

“Someone I could depend on when I had no one. And I valued it with my life. And then W’Kabi happened. And I did not know how greatly I hurt you when you had to watch me be given away to him. I had my…suspicions, about how you felt. It was selfish of me to ask that of you, and for that I am sorry.”

You licked your lips, still silent, as Okoye continued.

“And when our marriage dissolved, you were still there. As you always were. You held me and comforted me in my heartache. And when I longed for a comfort I thought no one else could provide, you were there. And you provided it. And we…indulged. I continued to take, and take, and take from you, and you willingly gave, and gave, and gave to me without question. I acknowledge that my actions have drained you beyond replenishment, and for that, I am deeply sorry.”

Okoye watches your face. Unmoved. Tears  began prickling at the edge of your eyelids.

“I wanted to stop because I was confused. I thought I was committing some act of injustice, that what we were engaging in was not sincere-” You wanted bite back at her here, question her on exactly who she thought was not sincere in your engagement, but you bit your tongue and let her speak, “-and I could not comprehend your affections and how genuine they were…I did not wish to be betrayed again.”

There it was. The explanation you so desperately prayed for. And as the truth was revealed, the tears which formed in your eyes began to trickle down your face.

“But when you left - when you went on that mission, without telling me, despite detailing the dangers you were to face…I was losing my mind.”

You finally divert your eyes to face Okoye, only to see she had been looking at you the entire time.

“I was losing my mind. I could not sleep. I did not eat. I only worried about you. And when you did not return, I felt as if I were going mad. Deranged at the thought of losing you. And it was at that moment that my emotions became clear to me.”

Okoye’s hand reached for yours, and you let her take hold of it. She interlocked your fingers, and encased your hands with her other one. You watched as she did so, your eyes slowly raising back to meet hers.

“I cannot lose you. In any proximity. You are more important to me than anything in this world. And…if you would have me,” the general paused, taking a deep breath to stabilize her breathing, “I promise to live for you, and work to right the wrongs I have done to you.”

By now your face was ridden with tears, your voice long gone. There was a long pause in which you searched the other woman’s eyes, unsure of what you were looking for. A crumb of a lie, a sliver of deceit, perhaps. But you found none. Only ingenuity. Only affection.

After what felt like an eternity in silence, the sound of the waves your only background noise, you raised your free hand to rest at the back of her neck. You rested your forehead on Okoye’s, closing your eyes, and finally releasing the breath you didn't know you were holding.

Okoye’s eyes fluttered closed as well, and for a moment you just rested there, basking in each other’s presence. 

“I will have you,” you whispered against her lips, “I will have you until my dying breath, when Bast calls me to be with the ancestors.”

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

Y’all I need help finding this Nat x Reader fix where it starts with them cuddled up on a couch watching movies with the Avengers and every time a blast of boom sounds in a movie R covers Nats ears …

The last part got me. Like when did I ever mention a man?

Nat: So, what's your type?

You: Kind, redhead, dumb, good sense of humor

Nat: That sounds like me. Too bad I'm not a boy.

You: ...Did I mention dumb?

Nat: Yeah

You: Okay, just making sure.

Y’all need to get into @natsxaddiction writing. I swear she’s great.

Room Chapter 1

Mama!Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Wanda Maximoff

Masterlist | General Masterlist

W/c: 3.9k

Summary: Held captive in an enclosed space for years, Former Avenger Natasha Romanoff devises a plan on her daughter’s fifth birthday to set them free

Warnings: sexual assault, kidnapping, violence, language, children conceived through sexual assault, angst, mentions of suicide, murder (just a lot of pain)

Note: Bringing this over from A03 for those that want to read

There was a shift in the comfortable silence that surrounded her peaceful slumber. The familiar buzzing of the refrigerator in a corner stopped just as she reached a peace that wasn't quite peace. She could hear the lock of a door and heavy footsteps trailing away. The solid crunch of leaves, or maybe snow, smashed against her eardrums as she waited for the silence to meet her again. Wide-eyed and alert she didn't dare move her face from under the covers. Didn't dare make a sound as the silence of the room captured her again. In the darkness of the night, she could just make out the shapes of furniture in her space. A room. She couldn’t quite tell these days if that’s what it was. Taking a shuddering breath, she pushes against the mattress with her hands just barely touching the springs through the thinness of the material.

He’s gone. Her left foot touches the ice-cold concrete below her. Then her right. Flexing her toes, she tries to ignore the dull ache between her legs. She tries not to scream out at the pain shooting up her spine. She doesn’t want to think about that now. There’s only one thing on her mind as she stands to her feet. The wardrobe leans against a wall just inches from the bed with only a nightstand keeping them apart. She tries her fingers along the faded wood feeling for the slight opening she’d left. Natasha pulls the door open gently and grabs what’s inside. It takes a minute to get a proper grip but she does lifting with what little strength she has and hoists the tiny figure into her arms. Chubby fingers grab at her before settling with a shushing sound to her ear. Natasha transfers the child onto the bed in a position closest to the wall. It groans under their weight. Long hairs tickle her bare arms nuzzling closer to her.

“Ma?” A tiny voice whispers.

“Shh, go back to sleep.” She whispers back. Climbing into the bed and pulling the child to her again she pulls the blanket just to their shoulders. She waits with bated breath for the girl to stir again but she never does. Natasha feels safer. As safe as she could in this hell hole.

Letting the sounds of her child's breathing lull her to sleep for a brief second she wonders if life will always be like this.

It’s the child who wakes first just a couple of hours later. Her eyes blink open quickly as she lifts her head to look over to her mother. With an excited whisper, she brushes her hair out of her face and pokes a finger into Natasha’s face.

“Ma, I’m five,” She smiles to no one in particular. It’s her birthday. She’s finally five. That’s a big number. Natasha smiles before opening her eyes. No matter how much she doesn't feel happy, there's a reason to be happy. The child smiling brightly at her brings her a sort of joy.

“You are,” She rasps, pulling her into a hug.

“I’m so old now,” The girl exclaims, relishing in the feeling of her mother against her.

“You’re such a big girl now, Myshka,” Natasha says into her hair.

“Yeah,” She agrees.

Guess it was time to get their morning started.

Natasha busies herself making their breakfast as the child greets her favorite things in their room. There’s a cheeriness that Natasha herself can't reach as she pours the boiling water into a bowl for each of them for instant oatmeal.

“Good morning, lamp.” The little girl touches each thing she sees. Clad in only a t-shirt and underwear she doesn't feel the cold breeze in the room. “Goodmorning, Dollie, good morning egg-snake.”She reaches under the bed to pull her craft out. They did that together a few months ago when Old Nick decided to bring them a Sunday treat. There’s a small plant on the nightstand she places it next to. The clink of the bowls grabs her attention and she comes to stand next to her mother. “Mama, I’m five now. So big right?”

“Yes, Myshka.” Natasha sighs. She drops a spoon into both bowls and guides the girl to her seat. She’d never sit down otherwise. Natasha takes her time opening a small ziplock bag and taking out the chewable vitamins. Two. She presses them into the child’s waiting hands. “Take your vitamins.” She instructs before pulling another small bag into view. Her own vitamins taste just as bad if not worse than the ones she’s had before. She doesn’t know exactly what they are but Old Nick promised her they were good for her. That they would help the both of them. She can’t say she trusts him but there’s no other choice.

Natasha takes a spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth hoping that her actions would be followed. They are. She tries to hide the small groan as the pain inside of her mouth shoots through her. She was having a lot of pain these days. Green eyes look over at her curiously.

“Is it bad tooth again?”

“Yeah,” She nods. “It’s fine. Pain only makes you stronger.”

“That’s right. Just like Captain America.” The young girl nods in agreement. Natasha wants to roll her eyes at the mention of him. Her former teammate. Her former partner. One of The Avengers. She’d been one herself Once Upon a Time. One of the best if you ask her. She regrets letting her child watch that special on Avengers a year ago. How was she to know the girl would become obsessed with the team? America’s Greatest Heroes. It tasted bitter on her tongue. It was physically ailing for her to hear about them and how they moved on. As if nothing happened. As if nothing happened to her.

She gripped her spoon a little harder as she thought of the many times she’d watched the news and saw glimpses of their faces. Tony wasn’t seen as much anymore. He opted to live a life by the lake in upstate New York with Pepper and his daughter. Steve was rumored to be dating Sharon Carter. She remembers briefly the time she’d encouraged him to ask the woman out. He had been so adamant about being too busy to date. Guess that had gone out of the window. They even had a new person on the team. One they called Captain Marvel. Carol Danvers. She was good. If circumstances were different Natasha thought they might have been friends. That’s all over now though. If anything the mere thought is despicable. It disgusts her to think about them. She feels a bit jealousy every time she sees their faces on the small TV screen in the corner of their room.

How could she not? They never came looking for her. Never found her. Here she was six years in this place and there wasn’t even a mention of her. Not anymore. They didn’t know a damn thing and weren’t looking to. She’s suffered alone. Here in this god-forsaken place, she wasn’t an Avenger or an ex-KGB assassin or a former Red Room spy. She was just Natasha. Just weak and plain Natasha. Before here, before this room, before Old Nick, she would have broken someone’s nose at the thought of calling her weak. This room had broken her in more ways than one. Now she didn’t have a clue who she was.

She’s tried everything she could to break out of here but it all proved worthless. She’s tried fighting, picking the locks, sending messages in her trash, hell she’s even tried to break the skylight above their heads right now. None of it proved anything but the fact that she was stuck here. She didn’t know who had taken her or how she was taken. The entire ordeal is a blur to her.

She's on a mission. It was an easy in and out. She’d been on a level 6 multiple times before. She was keeping a steady communication with Steve and Maria Hill. There wasn’t anything to fear or worry about. She had completed the mission or so she thought. It’s a little unclear to her. Why were they there in the first place? Fury had given them leads to a new Hydra safehouse on his radar. It was supposed to be a quick raid. One minute she’s kicking some serious ass and the next she’d been knocked unconscious and woke up here.

In the beginning, she’d been handcuffed to the bed. A method she was all too familiar with from her days in The Red Room. Then he would come in. Old Nick. He would come in and make conversation with her. She was never very receptive to his play at friendliness. That was his angle. Get her to trust him. She was violent with him. Doing everything in her power to break him. She would find out who he was working with or working for if it was the last thing she did. He didn’t stutter once, only becoming increasingly hostile towards her.

One time, she was feeling particularly angry and had broken free of the cuffs only to be met with electrocution. Something she’d had similar to her Widow Bites. Only this didn’t immobilize her. It knocked her out. Left her in an almost catatonic state. He would push and push and push until finally, she stopped fighting. She stopped resisting. He would come as often or as little as he liked. He would take what he wanted and leave.

If there was an organization backing him she wouldn’t know. All she saw was him. All she could see sometimes when she looked at the little face in front of her was him.

No. Wanda was hers. Wanda was good. She is good. There was no fight left in her but for the little one in front of her, she would do whatever she could.

So she would make her birthday as fun as possible. Working with what she had was a strong suit.

“Hey, do you know what we’re going to do today?” Natasha set her spoon down. She wasn’t as hungry as she thought.

“What?” Wanda tilted her head. “More egg-snake?”

“No,” Natasha smiled. “We’re going to bake a birthday cake.”

“A cake?” Wanda gasped, sitting just a tiny bit straighter. “A real cake? Like from TV? Cuz’ I’m five?”

“Yep.” Natasha couldn’t help but share in her excitement. Wanda was good. She’s always been good. “It will have sprinkles and everything. We can start on it as soon as you’re done with your oatmeal.”

“Wow.” Wanda hurriedly got back to her meal scooping spoonfuls of oatmeal into her mouth. She couldn’t wait to make a real live birthday cake. She’d never had one before.

The rest of their morning went as planned. She helped Wanda to brush her teeth. Two minutes. Thirty seconds on each side. Then it was time to pick out their clothes. They didn’t have much. Just what Old Nick would bring them for a Sunday treat. She found the first clean shirt available and helped Wanda out of her old ones. She listened to the chattering of the five-year-old as she raised her arms.

“Mama, do you think my cake can be red, blue, and white?” Wanda’s voice was muffled as the shirt was pulled onto her head. “Like Captain America?”

“I don’t know, Myshka.” Natasha passed her a pair of pants. Wanda was always firm in her choice to do this part herself.

“Well, I hope so.” Wanda almost falls to the floor as she attempts to put a leg into the jeans. Natasha’s steadying hand prevents her from doing so. Wanda pushes a stray hair out of her face as she sucks in her belly and uses both hands to button her pants. Raising her hands again, she smiles. “See, Mama, I did it.”

“You did it.” Natasha bops her nose. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I think it’s because I’m five and I get superpowers.” Wanda grinned. Natasha knew it was just Wanda being a child but the idea of her having superpowers felt all too real. It felt all too haunting. Too much of a reminder of the life she was missing.

With a pat on Wanda’s head, she moved to the other side of the room. Their bowls were tossed into the sink. Natasha flipped the nozzle to the tap water and began to scrub them. She could hear the click of the TV being turned on and the Dora the Explorer theme song reached her ears. Wanda would be distracted if only for a little. She went about her day scrubbing the floors and keeping her area clean. Not once did Wanda turn to her to ask a question. The mini redhead is too enthralled by the actions on the screen.

“Okay, time for morning stretch and measure.” Natasha clapped her hands. Wanda scurried across the room closer to the door. The only door leading to the outside world. She leaned her head patiently against the wall and looked up. Natasha used a dull pencil to scratch Wanda’s height into the frame. She couldn't quite tell the exact numbers but there was some growth there.

“Mama, I am taller.” Wanda cheered. “I think it’s because I’m five now.”

“You are,” Natasha agreed. That’s how a lot of their conversations went. Wanda was more enthusiastic and fresh. Everything in life was new to her. It was all a wonder. Even getting taller. Their stretching went off without a hitch. Natasha was more of an instructor as she avoided overexerting herself after last night. After what he did. Wanda was compliant as she went into a downward dog. Her giggles were music to Natasha’s ears as she tried to keep her balance. Her long locks brushed the floor in a puddle of red. Finally, Natasha poked at her gently until she fell over.

“Mama, no fair.” Wanda smiled from her place. Her arms coming up to her chest as she pulled off the cutest pout one had ever seen.

“No fair?” Natasha raised a brow. “No fair is you using my own pout against me. I invented that pout.”

“Nuh-uh,” Wanda shook her head.

“I did,” Natasha challenged her. “Now do you want to argue further or do you want to make a cake?”

“Cake, cake, cake!” Wanda scrambled to her feet. She followed Natasha around their small kitchenette. Natasha gathered the ingredients from the fridge and set them all on the table. It wasn’t necessarily a homemade cake but they were working with what they had. She listened to every instruction given to her. Making a cake was so much fun. She was even allowed to crack the eggs into the bowl. Next was the butter. A solid block thick and creamy.

“Butter!” Wanda cheered as Natasha flipped over its container and allowed it to drop into the mix of eggs and the rest of the batter. She attempted to smash it down to mix but was met with a bit of resistance.

“Why don’t you handle some of that, baby.” She allowed Wanda to take the reins of mixing. In an attempt to play it off she stepped back and shook at her wrist. It had never been the same since she’d broken it in a fight with Nick. A lot of her body wasn’t the same anymore. Wanda was all too happy to take over. Once the batter was finally finished Natasha took over the baking part while Wanda worked to clean their dishes. She was an efficient helper and didn’t complain one bit.

Finally, after waiting what seemed like a billion years, the cake was ready. She waited in her seat with a hand over each eye as Natasha carried the cake over to her.

“Okay, Myshka, you can open now.” Natasha crouched down to be eye level. She used a small lighter with just a bit of fluid to light the dollar store candles on the cake. Wanda opened her eyes excitedly, wiggling just a tiny bit in her seat. She counted the candles slowly, her smile quickly fading away from her face.

“There’s five,” She whispered dejectedly.

“What’s that?”Natasha questioned. She wasn’t clear on the apparent shift in Wanda’s demeanor.

“There are not ten candles,” Wanda pointed to each one with a frown. “There has to be ten. For me, and for Pietro.” Oh. Natasha’s heart stopped for just a second. Pietro. Wanda’s twin. Her other child. She sometimes tries to forget that there were two of them. She’s surprised that Wanda remembers.

Natasha sighs. She’d been thirty-four weeks pregnant when she’d gone into labor. A miracle that she hadn’t known was possible and yet there she was. In the room all alone giving birth on the very same bed they sleep in now. After begging and pleading for Nick to take her to a hospital she’d given birth and delivered her babies on her own. Only expecting one, she was pleasantly surprised when she had given birth to a second. She remembers holding a wailing Wanda in her arms and feeling the need to push again. She took matters into her own hands and cut the umbilical cord with dull scissors in anticipation for the second baby. She would set aside a newborn Wanda as she bared down with her own scream. Only this time she wouldn’t be met with the soft wails of her second child. She was met with silence. Pietro, she decided to name him, was born still with his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. Natasha remembers that day as if it were yesterday. How she attempted to feed one newborn and mourn the other at the same time.

She would carry and hold a still Pietro in her arms in an attempt to keep him warm for six hours. It was six hours before Old St. Nick visited her again. He would proceed to rip the baby from her arms with the broken promise of burying him somewhere safe. She still doesn’t know if he kept his promise.

So she moved through the next five years raising Wanda as best she could. She raised her as one half of a pair she didn’t know she could ever have. Some days Natasha would question it. How she’d been able to conceive and give birth to a child. Two children. The Red Room had made sure this wasn’t a problem. Or so she thought. Children weren’t even a thought in Natasha’s mind before being trapped here. Now being here with Wanda she couldn’t think of anything else. She kept Pietro’s memory alive for as long as she could for Wanda. Over time she stopped talking about him so much with the pain of his lifeless body still fresh in her mind.

Here she was with her five-year-old opening wounds that were never really closed.

“Wanda, there wasn’t enough for ten candles,” She says gently. From the wobble of Wanda’s bottom lip, she could tell that if this situation went wrong there would be a huge problem.

“You said birthday,” Wanda moans. “That means me and Pietro. Candles for two. Not one.”

“Wanda,” She sighs. How in the world was she supposed to explain this to her? “It’s still a birthday cake for you. I think that we should celebrate and you can pretend that they’re for Pietro too. How does that sound?”

Wanda looks down then back up as if she has the brightest idea in the world. “You should ask Old Nick for more candles for Sunday treat.”

“Wanda, it’s Monday. We would have to wait six more days-”

“So,” Wanda pushes.

“Your cake would be old and we wouldn’t be able to eat it.” Natasha realizes that her attempts to reason with a five-year-old would be futile. “Why don’t we blow out the candles and try the cake?”

“No,” Wanda frowns. She doesn’t want to do it this way. Mama always used to tell her she and Pietro would share the same birthday. Even if he wasn’t here, why shouldn’t they share the same cake? There had to be ten candles. Then they could say goodbye. It’s how they did it in the movie on TV. When someone died they said goodbye or said a prayer or had a funeral even. Pietro didn’t get any of that. Why couldn’t they do it now?

“Come on, I know you’ll like it, Myshka, go on try it.” Natasha urges her again to try the cake.

Faster than she can react Wanda lashes out angrily “I said NO!” and the candles are blown out without either of them realizing how. Natasha takes a deep, deep breath. Wanda lets out a whimper and a whine. It wasn’t like Wanda to raise her voice. Tears of frustration pricked Natasha’s eyes as she pulled Wanda into her embrace.

“Wanda, Mama, doesn’t like it when you yell.” Natasha chastises. “I know you're frustrated but this isn’t how we act.” She feels Wanda nod against her.

“Next week, when I turn six, ask for more candles,” Wanda whispers brokenly.

“Next year,” She corrects her. Next year. She couldn’t imagine being in this place one more year. Looking up, she notices that the small piece of sky she can see through the skylight is clear. Next year will be different, she's sure of it.

Hours later she’s sitting in the tub with Wanda, the candles and the cake half-eaten and their crisis long forgotten. She doesn’t hide her naked body and neither does Wanda. She doesn’t know any different. She takes a bit of the soap from the edge of the tub and lathers it in her hands to wash Wanda’s hair. It’s not shampoo and it certainly isn’t the best soap but she’s clean. Wanda giggles as she swirls their clothes around in the suds of the water. It’s the only way they’ll get clean. It’s an odd thing to do but after having a bit of practice she doesn’t think twice about it.

They don’t get much in here. Natasha doesn’t know much about what’s out there. She allows herself to wonder again if Old Nick is working alone. If so, he’s pretty damn crafty. She wonders if he has some kind of camera set up to watch her. Watch them. She looks around the room. If there was anything she’d have found it. She’s searched the place so many times and found nothing. The slosh of water brings her back to reality as Wanda hisses.

“Soap in my eye,” She rubs furiously at them. She turns to Natasha for help.

“No, don’t rub,” With one of their articles of clothing, she takes it and helps to clean the soap from Wanda’s eye. “There, all better.” She says. Wanda’s wide green eyes meet hers.

“All better,” Wanda repeats.

The idea comes to Natasha when she and Wanda are cuddled in bed. Wanda is pressed against her with her face pressed into Natasha’s breast as she suckles gently. Realistically, Natasha knows she should be weaned by now. She knows breastfeeding a five-year-old is an insane amount of time. She’s not ready to lose the connection. She’s not ready to take away the one thing that always brings Wanda comfort. Not yet.

So as Wanda contently falls asleep at her breast releasing her nipple gently from her mouth Natasha comes up with a plan. They were getting out of here. One way or another they were getting out of here.

They would be free.

Pt 2.

Natasha: Romance is dumb.

Bruce: … you’re literally holding Y/N’s hand.

Natasha: 

Natasha: Romance that doesn’t involve the two of us is dumb.

trying to prove a point to the boys at school

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