#t'jadaka

[tjadakaa]

These two...

[awakandangoddess]

Stranger: Hey, I like your top

Erik: Thanks, his name's T'Challa ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[ishipbullshitso]

Can i get a Erik grown up in Wakanda? I want some puppy love between erik and tchalla going into full love

wMe likey (don’t mind my informality, but I apologize if this is not to your standard-I don’t write puppy love in a typical way).

Since the beginning, N’Jadaka has always T’Challa’s favorite person. If you ask him about it, he would deny it completely, but there is no one else in Wakanda he would rather spend time with. 

Since diapers, the two were stuck by the hip. T’Jadadka would pull at his hair (or causing any trouble/pain that would satisfy him in that moment) and T’Challa would cry-but if you were to remove them from each other, T’Challa would cry harder. 

When they grew into elementary age, the two developed varied personalities. T’Challa loved helping out where he could, bright and inquiring eyes to everything that he was learning. N’Jadaka was.. N’Jadaka. Sometimes he would care about traditions and other times he questioned about life outside. He was quickly chastised and T’Challa pitied him for that. In their time alone, they would sneak out to Panther rock and talk about what life would be like outside of Wakanda. 

“I think there isn’t as many rules out there.. I am pretty sure they don’t have a Black Panther,” N’Jadaka picks up a broken rock and throws it off of the ledge. T’Challa was too busy looking at the stars in the sky to answer properly. 

“I think there is no place better than Wakanda,” but N’Jadaka scoffs. 

“Yeah right, maybe for you. I think there is tons of places that could be better than here.” N’Jadaka lays there beside of T’Challa, reaching his hand out for his cousin to grab. It was not something that was shamed between them. They always held hands or whispered something in each other’s ears. Queen Ramonda would catch them occasionally and break them apart, but this is them. T’Challa squeezes his hand, smiling at his through long eyelashes. N’Jadaka smiles at his, wide and happy again. It was far beyond their curfew to return their rooms, but there is no doubt that one of them would think up an excuse to dismiss them. 

“If you could change your name, what would you name yourself?” T’Challa shrugs and thinks hard for a solid minute. 

“I do not think I have an answer,” T’Challa says, “all I have ever known is my name.” 

“I would like the name Erik. It sounds cool to me.” 

“What a beautiful Erik you would be, N’Jadaka.” It was not supposed to come out the way it did, but N’Jadaka was beaming and T’Challa would never impose on his happiness like that. Besides, T’Challa would be a liar if his cousin was not beautiful, and T’Challa does not lie. 

-

When T’Challa had come of age to start learning how to be a proper King, N’Jadaka had caused proper trouble. He would sneak out more and come back drunk with something that he stole from the market. No matter how many times he was punished, nothing would stop him from causing trouble with his hands or his mouth. 

T’Challa had developed a deep crush with Nakia. He admired her strength, her stubbornness. In some ways, she reminded him of N’Jadaka with her ideals of leaving Wakanda and doing something more than stay within this country. If he is being honest, if his cousin was not such a rogue in the way he thinks, Nakia could be the female version of N’jadaka-it was a stretch, though. 

The more his cousin got in trouble, the more the two grew apart. T’Challa could not be around such an influence without getting punished and he felt as if he had something to prove always. N’Jadaka, in his words, “does not give a rhino’s tail” and can do as he pleases. They argued over the small things now. T’Challa took Nakia to Panther rock to look at the stars and N’Jadaka yelled that “that is their spot.” 

In the end, their friendship was suspended. T’Challa focused on his future as a King and N’Jadaka, a future without Wakanda. 

One day, a note appeared on his bed. It read: 

“T’Challa, 

I have found a way out of Wakanda. By the time you receive this, I will be gone. I am sorry that I have not been the friend that you needed. I am sorry for the times I was envious because I was not the perfect kid that you was and that Nakia was taking things out of our friendship. I will come back one day, I promise. I couldn’t leave my favorite cousin like that. 

I love you very much, T’Challa. Do not forget that.

-N’Jadaka, your favorite person”

T’Challa did not sleep that night, tears replacing his previous comfort. The absence of his best friend impacted his view of everything. He remained eager to learn about the throne and absorbed his nation, but could not help but wonder about his cousin in the mean time. 

Is he dead? Did he make it to somewhere he is happy? Does he miss me too? - eventually, the thoughts became less and less. 

-

“My King, there is someone here for you.” T’Challa shrugs it off. He has had a rough day and he wishes to see someone else. 

“Can they wait, Okoye?” 

“No, my King. He crossed into the border and he has our marking. He says he is here for you.” T’Challa sighs into his hands, but motions for the man. Okoye salutes and opens the door. 

T’Challa freezes. There is no way-no way it could possibly be. The man has gold teeth, a beard, and dreads, but it looks exactly like-

“N’Jadaka,” T’Challa breathes out. His heartbeat increases and the room spins. His cousin smiles, his gold teeth reflecting. 

“I figured you might not recognize me,” N’Jadaka winks, “and I go by Erik now, actually.” T’Challa wants to scream in happiness, run over, and hug the life out of his returned cousin. Instead, he is still frozen. 

“You gonna come over here or what?” And his legs move. He wraps his arms around his cousin and breathes him in because by Bast, he never missed someone so much (second to his father). Erik hugs just as tightly, not letting go for a while. 

The two catch up well. T’Challa cancels literally everything that he can. He tours Erik around Wakanda and Erik, in turn, tells him stories of America. T’Challa was not surprised that his cousin was top of his class and even less surprised that he joined a fighting force. It was all so N’Jadaka. 

The worst came when T’Challa had to tell his cousin that his father, that both of their father’s, passed away years before. N’Jadaka broke down and T’Challa held him until he was able to stand on his own again. 

Nakia visits once and N’Jadaka struggles to talk to her properly. He meets M’Baku and other tribes. Queen Ramonda celebrates his homecoming with a feast and a celebration with all of the tribes. Erik does not seem to enjoy it, so T’Challa drags him out to Panther Rock. 

N’Jadaka was first to lay down and stare at the sky. 

“I am sorry. It’s weird that the same people who would yell at me as a kid scream that they are happy to see me.” T’Challa moves to sit beside of him, brushing out his royal robes. 

“It is quite different then what you are used to now, yes?” N’Jadaka only hums. 

“How is you and Nakia? Thought you two would’ve hit it off already?” 

“Hit it off? Nakia ties herself to Wakanda, not to me. We never established a relationship. We remain friends.” T’Challa catches the way that his cousin’s mouth perks up in the slightest, as if it was pleasing to hear that. 

“I missed you more than anyone, you know that right?” It chokes T’Challa when that leaves Erik’s mouth. He lays down and N’Jadaka holds his hand instantly, commenting something about “old times sake.” This doesn’t feel like old times to the King; before their casual activities felt like spring, warm and easygoing. Now it feels like summer after hours of labor. Heat reached his cheeks, but T’Challa made no move to remove their hands. 

“When I had time, I would look at the stars and think of you. You had no idea what is was like where I was. I’m certain you learned some, but nothing like what I have experienced. I have seen death, torture, a broken world outside of Wakanda. We do nothing to help them,” Erik’s hand squeezes intensely, but T’Challa squeezes back to remind him that he is here. 

“Anyway, I thought of you almost everyday. At first, I thought it was because you was my best friend but I was wrong. It was so much more.” N’Jadaka-Erik-rolls over to his stomach. T’Challa looks in confusion, but his cousin just shakes his head and cups his cheek. 

“Have you ever been in love, T’Challa?” 

“I.” the King coughs, “I, um, do not know.” 

“Well I have. It is one of the most painful and beautiful things I have ever come to experience. Isn’t it quite unfortunate that it is with someone who does not know if they’ve ever been in love.” Erik smiles and waits until it clicks in T’Challa. When it does, everything freezes in T’Challa. 

“You..love me?” N’Jadaka scoots closer and their faces are inches apart. 

“I wouldn’t come back for anyone else, My King.” In perfect Xhosa, Erik has reached into T’Challa’s heart and returned something that he wasn’t sure was missing. 

He wastes no time, grabbing the back of his cousin’s neck and kissing him, expressing years of hidden emotions. Erik-N’Jadaka-whatever he wants to be-kisses back as if he was waiting the entire time for this moment. 

The stars shine a little brighter that night as the two lay not only by each other, but with each other as one-once again. 

Eventually Ramonda calls for the two back, but they ignore it. No excuse was needed for their absence because, hey, one of them is the King of Wakanda. 

[whatnopictures]

I’m not sure what they’re watching but Erik thinks it’s shit

[mahalshairyballs]

Let me return to try another life

A Killchalla soulmate AU, you can read it on ao3 here 

Summary 

When T’Challa is born, his parents are pleased to see a Wakandan name on his wrist.

This is a gift by @geckospeaks and @mahalshairyballs for the wonderful and amazing @baetchalla , we love you so much and we’re so grateful for everything you did for this fandom!!

I hope you will enjoy this little one shot made with all the love!  💖 💗 💖

[lazaefair]

Fixit, continued

Part 1

T’Challa comes around in front of him a little more, not quite blocking the sunset. He doesn’t look much like the photos Erik spent half his life staring at, eaten alive with gut-twisting jealousy. Bruises under his eyes, sweaty, haggard.

(Skin awash in red and gold, light caught in his hair, otherworldly—)

“Prince N’Jadaka of the Golden Tribe. My father committed a great wrong against you, and for that I am sorry.” T’Challa spreads his hands. “I would ask for your forgiveness, but I suspect you prefer actions over words.”

Erik looks into his stupid fucking handsome face and reaches for the rage, but by now the rage is draining out of the world along with everything else. “Fuck you,” he says, last gasp, all he has left, mouth filling with copper.

And then T’Challa moves - takes Erik’s hands in his. Touches him without violence for the first time.

“Cousin. Brother,” he says, spacing his words out with care. “Tomorrow, I will send word to the U.N. We will go to them and give them the truth, the truth of Wakanda. We will share. We will open ourselves to the world.” He falls silent. Then he cups Erik’s cheek, ducks his head down to look Erik in the eyes. “N’Jadaka. You are of my blood, my family. I would have you there, standing with us.”

Erik stares. The fairytale king of Wakanda, damn near pleading with him, like he hadn’t been about to murder everything T’Challa loved less than half an hour ago. Like he hadn’t been trying to finish the job on T’Challa himself.

Something gives in his chest. Won’t be long now.

But.

But.

Maybe Wakanda’s the one that’s lost.

I should have taken you back sooner.

The most beautiful sunsets in the world.

He tries to speak. Has to spit blood first. “You got some fucking nerve, bro,” he says, breathless. “I woulda killed you and never looked back. You don’t let a killer like me loose around your family. Stupid.”

T’Challa’s fingers tighten around Erik’s. “My family owes you a debt—”

“Paid that when you went over the waterfall,” Erik cuts him off. “A life for a life. Got what you deserved. And then I got what I deserved. Everyone dies. You know?” Getting harder to push air through his throat.

“Don’t do this. N’Jadaka,” T’Challa says in a rush, finally starting to lose that calm, kinglier-than-thou composure. Erik manages to hoist half his mouth into a crooked smile at that.

“Tell you what, cuz,” he says. Good thing the light from the dying sun is still so intense, so stunningly red, because everything would be going gray otherwise. “You don’t lock me up, and you teach me that sweet move you used on me back there, and maybe I’ll think about not walking straight into the ocean like my ancestors did.”

Fuck, his eyes. Figures, the last thing Erik sees in this cosmic assfuck of an existence would be the man whose eyes he knows better than his own. They’re darker and kinder than in the pictures. Goddammit. “You have my word,” T’Challa’s saying, the sounds fading out in Erik’s ears, and then his hands are on the handle of the knife, pulling, pulling, fuck shit fuck shit goddamn hell fuck that hurts—

The last thing Erik keeps in his memory from this moment is the sight of T’Challa’s intent eyes, the feeling of T’Challa shoving kimoyo beads into his chest. And then: the soft dark swallows him up into kind oblivion, and he lets himself go with a sigh.

[staubengel]

For the @killchallawishlist exchange.

For @anarielle and @nobunyaaga who both prompted a florist and tattoo artist AU.