the jungle makes it look like the same scene but it's not i swear!

Everything You Need To Know About Erik Killmonger

Unless you’re living under a rock you saw the latest Black Panther trailer this week. Trailer 2 expanded on what we saw from the first trailer and it was awesome! For me, the highlight of trailer was Michael B. Jordan’s portrayal of Erik Killmonger. Physically imposing with far too much swag Killmonger appears to be a scene stealer already. If you’re new to the character or a hardcore fanatic like myself, here’s everything you need to know about Killmonger… Very few people call him Erik! 


Debut

Erik Killmonger debuted Jungle Action #6 during the Panther’s Rage storyline (Issues 6-8). T'Challa returns to Wakanda to find that Erik Killmonger has threatened his homeland. Killmonger, causes chaos throughout the villages in an attempt to get T’Challa’s attention. T’Challa confronts Killmonger and is met with dismissiveness. After dismissing the African Prince Killmonger makes T’Challa fight “Prey”, his leopard. After apparently snapping the jaw of the leopard, Killmonger advances, throwing T’Challa over a waterfall.


Origin

Born under the name N'Jadaka, he is a native of Wakanda. His family was exiled after his father died fighting next to Ulysses Klaw and his mercenaries. He would end up in Harlem, New York where his hatred for Klaw and T’Challa grew, the king that exiled him. He then changed his name to Erik Killmonger and studied at Massachusetts Institute of Technology, desperate to avenge his father’s death.

Eventually he returned to Wakanda and settled in a village that would later change its name to B”Jadka Village, in his honor. He dreamed of ridding Wakanda of what what he felt was “white colonialist” cultural influences and return to its ancient ways. While Black Panther was away on frequent trips to America he’d take advantage of that absence. He would eventually be killed & defeated… until being resurrected.


Resurrection & Wakanda Takeover

Mandarin is responsible for Killmonger’s resurrection. Killmonger would return to his lover and ally, Madam Slay and they plotted to kill the Black Panther and bring back the ancient ways of Wakanda.

Tony Stark would visit Wakanda and Madam Slay drugged Jim Rhodes and took him prisoner. Killmonger would blamed Rhodes and Stark after believing he had killed The Black Panther, convincing the Wakandans that he would lead them to vengeance in the process. The Black Panther would eventually return, revealing that he had faked his death using an LMD. The Black Panther would go on to defeat Killmonger. The Mandarin recalled his ring and Killmonger reverted to an inanimate skeleton. However Killmonger had garnered a following, a following that would resurrect him. He would clash with T’Challa for the foreseeable future. 

Killmonger would try to gain control of Wakanda once again, this time with its economy. T'Challa would stop him by nationalizing all foreign companies in Wakanda and cause a run on the stock market. The two foes would collide once again, but this time Killmonger would defeat his foe and gain the status of Black Panther. He would maintain control of Wakanda and attempt to inherit T'Challa’s Avengers status, but when he underwent ritual his body reacted to the heart-shaped herb that he was suppose to consume. Proving to be poisonous to anyone that wasn’t of the royal bloodline. T’Challa didn’t allow him to die despite it being easy to do so.

As Killmonger came out of his coma, he reclaimed his position as chieftain over Wakanda. Once again he went to New York this time to contact Kasper Cole, a police officer, parading as the Black Panther to help him with cases. Killmonger attempted to gain him as an ally, offering him a buffered version of the Panther’s heart-shaped herb. In exchange, he would have to drop the Panther identity and take up that of a White Tiger acolyte of the Panther cult. Also He’d owe Killmonger a favor. Kasper would agreed, but instead he’d use his new herb-enhanced abilities to track down the boy on his own to avoid owing Killmonger an unpayable debt.

T'Challa, once again the sole ruler of Wakanda while Killmonger resurfaced and took control of Niganda. Killmonger is killed by Monica Rambeau during another confrontation with T’Challa. Monica was previously captured and imprisoned. The son of Killmonger’s young swears to vengeance against the Black Panther, in an eerie callback to T’Challa who swore the same after the death of his father.


Conclusion

It appears that what we’ve briefly seen in the trailers is true to the characters comic book origins. Also, the jaguar suit looked amazing! I somewhat wished they would’ve saved that for the movie, but I’m excited nonetheless. Judging from the trailer Killmonger is going to be a fan favorite, show stealer, and complete bad ass! My calendar is marked for February 16, 2018!

Chapter 1: She’s a Myth {Avengers Imagine}

Turning the Tides

(Avengers x Fem!Reader)

  Note: This is a small piece for my lovely followers, whom of which I can’t thank enough for all of your patience. I’ve hit a major writer’s block for the Life of an Avenger series, so I’m just praying for a spark of inspiration in order to move forward. Until then, here’s a short little piece my dreams worked up that I’m simply putting into words for you all. I hope you enjoy my insanity.

  Words: 1,745

  Warnings: swearing, near-death experience

Originally posted by ironbarnes

  **(not my gifs)**


 Life wasn’t always this difficult. Life shouldn’t be this difficult. Yet, here you are. Trapped. The last of your aching breaths leaking unwillingly from your dying lungs that feel as though they are moments from turning to dust from the immense pressure of the ocean that surrounds you. And as the world went black, all you could wonder was, “Was he worth dying for?”

  Your day began in the bustling Manhattan coffee shop that everyone seemed to go to, but that wasn’t right. Everyone in the city went to every coffee shop that existed on every stinking block, yet the overcrowded nature of the shop gave the impression of a swarm of locusts, proving once again how enslaved the human race is to coffee. Like goddamn heroin addicts, the city dwellers emerge from their caves in frantic search of their daily (sometimes bi-daily, or even tri-daily) fix.

  Stepping out from the swarm, you laugh quietly at the thought, rolling your eyes at society’s ignorance as you ironically sip your latte, thinking of what a hypocritical shit you are. However, you quickly shrug the fleeting thought away. We can all try to be non-judgmental, but thoughts plague you. Whether you want them, or not. They just do. 

  Although Manhattan wasn’t where you expected your travels to take you as the sky lethargically melted cold, gray rain drops onto your nose. Surprisingly, you didn’t mind the change from your typical treks through Amazonian jungles, the coastlines of exotic islands, or the endlessly sunny days of the African plains. But this is where the dart landed, so…here you are. You couldn’t fathom how a day so dark could still be so-

  “Watch it, bitch!”

  Alright, reverie over.

  “Watch yourself, buddy,” you scoffed at the red-faced business man. “And, little tip: maybe if you could keep your head out of your tight-knit ass, you wouldn’t run into people so much. Just a suggestion.”

  The suited and tied up man just stared at you in the way most people stared at you when you finally said fuck it to being cordial. It wasn’t a rarity. He snorted dismissively, then shook his head as he spun on his heels.

  “Bitch,” he grumbled. What a comeback. That one really stung. 

  Coffee gripped in the vice of your fingertips, you continued on your merry way. To where? Well, even you didn’t know yet. You never really did. Most of the time you just go there, wherever “there” happened to be. You only had two more days in New York before you took flight to the Philippines for the second time as the Dart of Destiny demanded. Not a hard demand to acquiesce to as Cebu was the place of pure bliss and adventure for any off-the-beaten-path traveler. Diving with whale sharks being an experience straight out of a science fiction novel. 

  But that was for the future. You always strive to live in the present moment, and at that moment, you were finally making your way lithely to the edge of the violent, crashing wave of nameless faces. You quickly wondered if you could possibly know anyone in that crowd. It simultaneously felt entirely possible due to the sheer number of people, yet completely impossible for the same reason.

  Your steps became more relaxed as you approached the edge of the Hudson River, taking in the lazy ferries that passed beneath the Brooklyn Bridge. You could picture the tourists pulling out their crappy digital cameras, snapping photo after photo of a dirty bridge that’s only half-way decent looking from a distance. You know, the same distance that Google maps have taken. You remembered just a few days ago when you went on one of those tourist busses and kept telling people bullshit facts like Ozzy Osbourne performed a whole concert on top of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, or the Bank of America Tower was rumored to host meetings for the Illuminati on the fifth and a half floor. Idiots.

  Suddenly, you became very aware of the photo of you on Wall Street picking the Charging Bull’s nose, so your hypocritical ass took another cheeky sip of ironic coffee. And the judgement comes full circle. However, in the middle of your righteous sip, a thunder rolled through the heavens. You waited for the crack and flash of lightning, but the main event never appeared. Odd. The thunder also never seemed to stop rolling. Like a bowling ball down an endless alley, only you felt not on the side of the thrower, but strangely on the side of the pins as the deafening sound approached closer by the second, ripping apart the normal bustling sounds of the city, more raw and demanding than any plane or helicopter you had ever heard before. Half a second later, your eyes caught sight of the burning wreckage barreling its way through the gray ceiling of clouds in a spectacle of brilliant color and smoke, dropping two black shadows into the murky water below before it crashed heavily into the Hudson River not a few blocks down from you.

  You watched as people crowded the edges of the river closest to the crash sight, pointing at the grizzly scene before them, pulling out cell phones to (hopefully) call the police (but you were sure some were just there for the bloody photos). You stood motionless, waiting for the two black figures to resurface…waiting…waiting…where the hell were they? You felt the tug in your stomach towards the water, but you shoved the feeling down.

  Don’t be stupid. They’ll find you. Don’t be the hero. They’ll kill you.

  The voices in your head pleaded reason, demanded logic, fought against empathy, chained up your humanity. But, you knew. You knew you could save them, whoever those black shadows were. The ambulances wouldn’t arrive on time. You knew…yet, you slowly turned your back on the tragic scene. Tragic as it was, it wasn’t your tragedy to deal with. You had plenty of your own.

  Just as you were pulling up the hood on your sweatshirt, your mind reeled on itself, like a volt of electricity, your mind was shocked back to quick images of you and your sister. Smiles and laughter, colorful coral reefs, playful dolphins, mesmerizing sunsets…your soulmate ripped away by “true love” and too much trust being placed in humans. 

  However, could you just walk away? Risking your own possible death for the absolute sure deaths of two others? What is worth dying for?

  Finally, the sound of traumatized screams pierced your ears, and you turned mid-step, racing to the dock closest to you in an attempt to provide as much coverage of yourself as possible before diving straight into the gray water of the river. Ice immediately sliced down your spine with a vengeance, but you shook away the violent chill spreading through your chest as your body began to change in a flurry of sea foam. Your legs became numb as they naturally found a rhythm with the water, immediately propelling you forward like a missile destined to find it’s target. With your vision clear and your senses heightened to their max, you felt a surge of adrenaline rush through your veins as you reached the crash sight. All you could see was hundreds upon thousands of pounds of wreckage, but you quickly ripped through the debris, shoving aside heavy, black metal until a hand was spotted underneath one of the severed doors. 

  You pulled away more debris when you finally saw the face of the man you were attempting to save and…damn…that wasn’t what you were expecting. Blond hair cut in the typical hero style, the water twisting his hair with the rolling current. He looked peaceful, contempt as his body continued to sink. Your fingers grasped the collar of his navy blue, patriotic uniform, pulling him close. Your lips met his as you breathed life into his almost dead lungs. His blue eyes fluttered open, shocked (as you had expected) to be where he was, but you put him back to sleep and let him float back to the surface, maneuvering pieces of debris out of his path in a heavenly scene. However, your dumb heroism wasn’t completed until you found the other shadow.

  This proved more complex than you first thought as his suit blended in with the rest of the charred debris. If not for the shock of red and gold, he would’ve been pronounced dead within the next hour. Luckily, you found him struggling between two pieces of what looked like the wings of the jet, his metallic leg trapped. You could sense his fear as he thrashed wildly trying to escape, seeming to have given up on a more mechanical approach. You squeezed your body between the rubble, wincing at the sharp fragments that clawed at your skin, but you swam on, finally reaching the metal man, prying apart the jet with incomprehensible strength. Knowing he was conscious, you tried to avoid his line of vision as you maneuvered the water to carry him to the surface, much like a geyser, before he could really get a look at you. You could feel him struggle against the geyser, but you were stronger. In the water, you were always stronger.

Originally posted by v8r

Tony’s POV

  Not knowing things was not a feeling Tony was accustomed to, a feeling he vowed to abolish from his feeling of feelings. 

  She was a mirage. She was a figment of my drowning imagination. Didn’t know I had that kind of an imagination, but sure, why not? She was hot…ter than most delusions people have, but not hotter than Pepper. Definitely not…whatever, she wasn’t real because that would be impossible.

  On the other hand, that hailing land of Game of Thrones douche bags up in Asgard should be impossible, yet that exists…but a…a, uh…a siren. That’s just a pirate’s wet dream. This is reality. A place of science and sanity…with Norse gods randomly walking the Earth. 

  What the hell has my life become?

  Tony slumped down on the lab table in front of himself, shoving aside a new arch reactor he had been tinkering with to rid his mind of his (what should have been) moment of death, vision of the afterlife, cross between realities, whatever you want to call it. But he couldn’t. He had seen something, someone, a girl he would never be able to forget. A girl he would, one day, seek out. A girl he would find.


**Please let me know if anyone wants more of this series. Like and comment xx

Two Fathers, A Frenchman and a Baby

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12622712


Word Count: 3740 (Uh, yeah, holy shit, this is a big one)

Chapters: 1/1

Publish Date: Nov. 3 2017

Plot: There are two fathers, one Frenchman, and a baby in one room, at about one in the morning.

Warnings: Cuteness, slight language warnings, Scout being a smartass, more cuteness, the author used Google Translate for the French, author doesn’t completely, know how you operate babies, there is barely an attempt at accents, a dash or two of angst, and Spy is still low-key a smartass. Also, Dad!Spy feels. Your welcome.

Also, LONG A.N. at end of chapter. Sorry, but not sorry.

Enjoy!

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PLATA O PLOMO | 01

‘No one wanted to cross them. They were dealing with big boy issues. These kids didn’t have time to fight with words behind one another’s backs or on SNS’, no these kids fought with bullets.’

Featuring: ot7 (bts)
Genre: Smut/Angst/Crack
Word Count: 1.8k
Trigger Warnings: drug abuse, gun violence, violence, swearing, death

m.list

A/N: Ok so I’ve wanted to write a gang au series for a really long time and have put it off in fear that I won’t be able to uphold the quality. I never get tired of gang bts and I really want to share my take on it. Feedback is encouraged!


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