#namor x mexican!oc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

evita-shelby · 2 years ago

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I am loving this fic 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Credits of this glorious GIF go to @meideixx

Namor (MCU) X Mexican!OC

Part II Here

Part III Here

MASTERLIST

Synopsis:

War photographer Sadie Medina is one day mysteriously whisked away on a mission that is suspiciously secret for a botanical expedition. A tragic twist of the events leads to her getting too close to something she should've never found, and too close to people who, by all odds, was never supposed to meet, be imprisoned by, and much less grow close to.

Word count: 2,250

Warnings: MCU typical violence, mentions of war, mentions of death and un-living people, Namor is the charming asshole we all love.

A/N: So, yeah, I've got it bad for this man and I have a ton of unused knowledge of Mayan culture due to me being a sucker for my country's history and some research I did for a Hellboy fanfic that never saw the light, so when he showed up on my screen I saw THE chance and I'm not about to let it go to waste, so here's the first chapter of this slow-burn-wannabe-enemies-to-okyou'recool-to-lovers.

P.S. Before you say anything, the OC's name makes sense a bit further down the road, I promise!

*Disclaimer: I'm by no means an expert on Mayan, but I did my best (by this I mean I looked for the best translator possible) and sorry for any mistakes. Handy little translations at the end, if needed.

There’s little room for anything else in your brain when you’re on the brink of death.

Sadie could talk from experience. And while she had convinced herself that survival instincts are incredibly selfish, the guilt trips and bad dreams would always be the painful aftershock of her line of work. People would often comment on how she must genuinely love what she did or she wouldn’t put her life on the line constantly, but it never really felt like love to her. It was more like a duty. A demanding, consuming, but necessary duty.

She’d heard the soldiers she often found herself around mention that same concept. Yet, after many years, she still couldn’t comprehend how people did many terrible things in the name of the only thing that made her decide to pour her heart into war photography for the remainder of her life.

Her father had never understood it either. She specifically remembered an exchange they had when she was about six, during one scorching afternoon, while she sat on his knees and played with an old rag doll. Guerrilleros didn’t precisely get a stable paycheck at the end of the month.

“This is stupid,” she’d said, tugging at the doll’s arms.

“What is?” asked her father, his voice soft but never tearing his eyes from his surroundings.

“I want to go home. I don’t want to be here. I want to live in our old house, with my Abue. This is stupid.” He had said nothing.

“Pa?” she asked meekly after a short pause. “Are you going to go away like Tío Ramiro? I don’t want to wear the ugly black dress that my aunt did after he went away.”

He couldn’t help but smile a little at her, pulling the girl closer and embracing her against his chest.

“I wouldn’t want that, muñequita. But it’s not up to me. Do you know how I’m always telling you to do as your Abue or I say? Well, there are some people I must obey too.”

“But they tell you to do...ugly things. They make you fight other people; Ernesto told me so. He says you go and beat them so bad they can’t get up. And Abue said that hitting people isn’t nice."

A long sigh that seemed to leave his lungs empty left the man’s mouth. A curse escaped his lips. He had to be more careful about letting her be around the camp’s eldest children. Hell, Ernesto was barely even a child. He could be standing guard in no more than six months with a weapon in his hands.

“Can’t you just talk to them? Maybe you can get along, and we can go back home.”

“It’s more complicated like that,” he replied, almost painfully. He sounded very, very tired. Sadie had discovered at an early age that when grown-ups didn’t really understand something, they’d say it was “complicated.”

“Some people are not that good at listening, preciosa.”

He was right. And so she didn’t tell. She showed.

And she had never been shy at admitting she was awful good at it.

The unexpectedness of her line of work amused, thrilled, and scared her a little bit. One day she could be in nearly arctic territories documenting the kidnapping of a crew of whale hunters by a faction of extremist ecologists, the next, she could be aboard a plane going God knows where after two men with three-letter badges insisted she was required for a “task of great scientific relevance.”

Sadie wasn’t particularly trustful of men with badges, but the sight of poorly concealed guns was one hell of a way to make someone change their mind.

And now she was sitting in a suffocatingly hot briefing room on an island in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by people who owned either a badge, a Ph.D., or both.

“…it’s crucial that you carry the vial at all times and be extremely careful. There’s more fungus than antidote, and it will take at least another month to synthesize more. Am I clear?” indicated a man with such small eyes that one could barely see the white in them. The way his lips tugged at his mouth downwards asymmetrically didn’t help much. All she knew was that he was the leader of this “expedition,” and his last name was something like Baxter or Dexter.

Rocks. She had left behind a great fucking story for a trip to photograph submarine rocks.

“Is something still unclear to you, Ms. Medina?” asked the captain after everyone had left the room but her.

“Yes, I think so…” she replied. Captain Baxter? Captain Dexter? “I think so, sir. I’m not sure about my role in all of this.”

“Ms. Medina, I can assure you’re entirely qualified for….”

“Sir, I know I am,” Sadie replied, perhaps a bit too bluntly. Overqualified, she would’ve wanted to add. “What I mean is, there are many colleagues of mine with excellent credentials who would jump at the chance to snap a picture of algae.”

“Really? Do you happen to know many wildlife photographers with military training, survivalist knowledge, and crisis management experience?” he retorted. This man’s attempts to be funny or sarcastic still sounded like a threat.

“Maybe, who knows? Still, why would you need…?”

“Ms. Medina, let me tell you something off the record. I don’t give a rat’s ass about those qualifications.”

While she did not appreciate being interrupted like that, there were words like “off the record” that piqued her interest.

“We’ve researched you thoroughly,” the captain continued emphatically, “and what was most impressive to us wasn’t your ability to constantly get in trouble, but your ability to each and every time find your way out. You’ve come out alive in situations you shouldn’t have been able to. That is why you’re here and not some Nat Geo intern.”

At this point, her instincts began telling her something was off. They weren’t telling her everything. Something about that speech the captain had just given her felt off-putting, but before she could try and dig for some more information, the man went around her.

“Trust me, this mission is worth your time.” Was the last thing he said before exiting the room, coming across a young soldier who saluted him.

“Captain Wexler, we are ready for departure as scheduled, sir.”

A speaker announcing the departure of the first raft caught her attention.

“Wexler, then.” Sadie affirmed, leaving hastily for the main deck.

Only five people, including herself, left the ship in the raft. She noticed they were headed toward a large formation of rocks that was barely visible from their distance. As they drifted closer, she looked in awe at the porous, black surface of the structure that grew larger by the second until it towered at about fifty feet above their heads.

“It’s an entrance,” explained one of the two scientists on board, leaning closer to her. “See, it looks like it’s just rocks, but once we dive and get to the center, you’ll see it leads to a very complex cave system.”

Honestly, the idea of a virtually impossible-to-escape underwater cave system wasn’t appealing to Sadie. Yet, the several things she had found out to feel out of place had captured her interest. She was almost sure there was something else to all of this that they didn’t want her to know. Or anyone else, for that matter. The entrance was so small that two people, shoulder to shoulder, wouldn’t have been able to fit inside. They had to go in a single line: one soldier in front, the two scientists, Sadie in fourth, and another soldier behind her. It was impressive how well the rocks hid the entrance. They almost looked like the black petals of a flower that would close around them at any given moment. In less than fifteen minutes, there was no trace of sunlight. They could only go forward with the guidance of their hands, lamps, and directions from the surface via intercom.

“In thirty-five feet, you’ll find yourselves at Point Alpha.”

Point Alpha, as shown in the map they had reviewed during the presentation, was an underwater cave with a pocket of air that made it possible for them to emerge and breathe normally while harvesting samples. However, they were strictly ordered to stay together under all circumstances.

Sadie felt odd photographing something so out of her usual field. Something that wouldn’t go anywhere and wasn’t trying to kill her.

Well, not exactly. One of the samples that had to be collected was a saucer-shaped fungus that thrived in the humidity between the rocks. However, if removed incorrectly, the spores could suppress the flow of oxygen in the bloodstream, eventually causing hypoxia and death in a little over five minutes. That was what the vial of antidote was for.

After moving forwards for about half an hour, the space started to become smaller and smaller until the only thing left before them was a breach in the wall. And there was light coming from it.

“Sunlight? I thought we were already a hundred feet below the surface.”

“No. Bioluminescent microorganisms.” Bluntly stated the other soldier. “And this, Ms. Medina, is your time to shine. Here, take this.”

He handed her a tiny square, barely bigger than her hand and only two inches wide, wrapped in a thin leather case. She took it and examined it, carefully placing the strap around her neck.

“A high-definition camera. State of the art. What we need is for you to get in there. Our 3D mappings show that about 400 meters in, it will become wide enough for you to move and take pictures of what’s in there. Take as many as you need until you’re sure you’ve covered every possible angle, and when you’re ready, let us know. We’re on channel three.” The soldier handed her a climbing rope and instructed her to secure it around her waist.

Sadie stared at the crawlspace, mentally measuring it before taking off the belt with what was left of the gear they’d given her, leaving her with just the neoprene suit. She was about to get in before changing her mind and removing the camera’s strap, wrapping the vial of antidote with its tiny injector, and tying it to her wrist. Taking a deep breath, Sadie knelt down and awkwardly dragged herself forward. She could barely fit. And still, she could feel the pointy edges of the rocks digging into her flesh, protected only by the thin suit.

The closer she was, the brighter the light shone until it was strong enough to light up the entire cavity. Finally, she reached the broader space they mentioned.

It was a beautiful grotto, just around five feet wide, full of stalactites of twisted shapes that fell from the ceiling like petrified chandeliers. However, the light wasn’t coming from them. It came from a structure in the middle of the space: a hollow mound of rock as tall as her knee. Sadie could only get on all fours if she wanted to reach it and avoid the stalactites. She peeked inside, realizing it led to a deep conduct that seemed to go on for miles and miles. With the absolute sound isolation the walls provided, water could be heard splashing at the end. Taking out the camera, she snapped her first picture of many. She captured the width and height of the rocky base, then another of the entire space for size comparison, including the stalactites that prevented her from moving further. For good measure, she tried doing a close-up of some familiar-looking fungus splotched along the walls. In about ten minutes, she was sure she had captured everything to see in the grotto.

“Well, then. I guess that’s all.” She said into the intercom, “It was beautiful, guys, but I can’t believe you made me drop a probable Pulitzer for this.”

With a breathless laugh, she dropped herself down again and began crawling backward.

“Guys? Do you hear me? I’m on my way back. Over” She repeated, hearing nothing but static. Of course, the intercom would fail. “It’s a bit harder to do this in reverse. Would you mind helping me out a bit, please? Over.” She insisted as her feet constantly got stuck in the rocks, softly tugging on the rope. Still no answer.

“Yeah, well, fuck you too,” Sadie muttered when she finally felt her legs break free.

“Alright, I got the pictures, but I don’t think those were bioluminescent….” She stopped mid-sentence when she turned around to find the cave completely empty. There was nothing but the scattered remnants of the team’s scuba gear and the closed sample containers all over the floor. Sadie’s instincts went crazy again. Something was very wrong. She fought the urge to call out to someone, picked up one of the pocket knives, and advanced as quietly as possible, her heart thundering in her chest so heavily she could feel it in her throat.

Suddenly, a clinking sound made her flinch as a small blue prism fell on the trail a few meters ahead. She didn’t even have time to feel surprised before the entire cave filled with water in a matter of seconds, washing her away and slamming her against the same wall she’d just emerged from. Then, there was only darkness.

Darkness…and a language she hadn’t heard in a long, long time, since she was a little girl in the warm jungle of Chiapas.

#namor x mexican!oc #namor fic recs #10/10 reccomend

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julyzaa · 2 years ago

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This is what i had written before my mom told me tenoch huerta sorta looks like one of her younger brothers when he was in his 30s

Cw: refrenced suicide, possible murder

Pilar holds the little space pebble close to her heart. It had been a tiny meteorite that fell in the ranch once owned by her grandparents in Morelos. Her mother had inherited it from her mother and given it to her at her fifteenth birthday.

This she had inherited with the family business of taking tourists to where the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs fell off the coast of Yucatan.

Well, that and occasionally picking up or delivering extra passengers ---and occasionally drugs--- because that was the deal they had with the local cartel.

Rafael Senior had met and knocked up her mother, Alma, though his work, they tried to make it work but Pili’s mom had her life in America and when she learned of this deal he had with the cartel, she took Rafa and Pilar and left.

Now with Rafa gone, her father too sick to work, it fell on Pilar ‘Pili’ Rosales to take over the Marimar and keep things going.

Difficult thing because only sleezy men, weird scientists and drunk people who wanted a tour of the exact coordinates where the asteroid had hit.

The meteorite she wore was the key to that. It resonated as if it were coming home whenever you got near it.

But something had driven Rafa to jump off the boat last year. He had the second half of the necklace; he hadn’t been wearing it when the rescue team found his body.

So now, whenever she has time, Pili goes through his notes and tries to crack the mystery of the meteorite.

The people of Wakanda claimed vibranium only existed where they lived, but how can you explain that the asteroid that fell in Yucatan has its same properties?

How can you explain that the tiny pieces that fell in some forgotten ranch in Morelos were also of the same metal?

The metal vibrates against her chest and it feels louder than her heart beat as she goes forward to the place calling to the stone on her neck.

“You should stop.” A voice says in the dark.

Unsurprisingly the voice emanating from the ruins of Mayan civilization speaks Spanish. Typical of the Spanish to thoroughly infect the places they took over.

“Are you going to kill me like you killed my brother?” she asks the voice.

“I didn’t kill your brother.” The voice leaves the ocean and gets into the little cabin cruiser Rafa had bought for personal trips. Said he wanted to live in it, little did he know he was going to jump off it.

“Then who did it, are you not the God Chaac? Or do you prefer Tlaloc?” she asks turning around.

Her father said the Mayan God of Rain lived here, he had seen him once, with wings on his feet and decked out like an emperor of old.

But mother said it was the Aztec God, Tlaloc, and that they stood in his realm, Tlalocan.

“I am both, and neither. My enemies call me Namor.” He says as she turns.

“What do your friends call you?” she asks and takes in the sight of the water god.

“You first.” He smiles in amusement and reaches out for the necklace she wears.

“Pilar, everyone calls me Pili.” She says as she slaps his hand away.

#oc fanfiction #mcu namor #namor x oc #mexican!oc #oc: Pilar Rosales Garcia

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whowantsnachos · 2 years ago

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My OC Character List

recently, i’ve decided i should start posting stuff about my own characters for the fandoms that i like. i’ve been creating them for a while, and i thought it could be fun :) one side note i would like to add is that they all have a “pair-up,” but i just have that as the person i like to write with my character the most.

Kaitlyn Thomas:

Age: 30 (from 2015)

Sexuality + Gender: Bisexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: American Caucasian

Fandom: Marble Hornets

Pair-up: Alex Kralie

Abigail “Abby” Winters:

Age: 26 (from 2012)

Sexuality + Gender: Pansexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: American Caucasian

Fandom: Marble Hornets

Pair-up: Tim Wright

Catherine Emerson:

Age: 38 (from 2009)

Sexuality + Gender: Heterosexual biromantic; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: English Caucasian

Fandom: Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man / NWH

Pair-up: Otto Octavius

Riley King:

Age: 34 (from 2024)

Sexuality + Gender: Lesbian; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: American Caucasian

Fandom: Marvel

Pair-up: Wanda Maximoff

Lydia Vesta:

Age: 39 (from 2024)

Sexuality + Gender: Polysexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: Sokovian Slavic

Fandom: Marvel

Pair-up: Baron Helmut Zemo

Victoria Esperanza:

Age: 32 (from 2023)

Sexuality + Gender: Aroace; they / them

Race / Ethnicity: Mexican American

Fandom: TribeTwelve (I DO NOT support Adam Rosner, so I’m separating the work from its creator)

Pair-up: Noah Maxwell

Ixnera “Isabel” Freyrdottir:

Age: Realistically, she would be around 1,000 - 1,050. In human years, maybe around 20 - 21

Sexuality + Gender: Pansexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: Alfhemian (?)

Fandom: Marvel

Pair-up: Loki Laufeyson

Sun Jae-hwa:

Age: 35 (from 2021)

Sexuality + Gender: Demisexual / bisexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: Asian

Fandom: Squid Game

Pair-up: Cho Sang-woo

Sara Freeman:

Age: 28 (from 2015)

Sexuality + Gender: Pansexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: American Caucasian

Fandom: Marvel - Daredevil

Pair-up: Matt Murdock

Heather Roman:

Age: 37 (from 2017)

Sexuality + Gender: Straight demiromantic; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: Asian-American

Fandom: Marvel - The Punisher

Pair-up: Frank Castle

Célestine Barbier:

Age: 37 (from 2018)

Sexuality + Gender: Pansexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: French-Latina

Fandom: Marvel - The Punisher

Pair-up: Billy Russo

Carli “Aerona” Winchester:

Age: 22 (from 2016)

Sexuality + Gender: Omnisexual; she / they

Race / Ethnicity: American Caucasian

Fandom: DC

Pair-up: Harley Quinn

Anna Novotny:

Age: 16 (from 1984)

Sexuality + Gender: Lesbian; they / them

Race / Ethnicity: Czech American

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pair-up: Robin Buckley

Rosaline “Lin” Cambio:

Age: 36 (from 2025)

Sexuality + Gender: Bisexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: English Latina

Fandom: Marvel - Moon Knight

Pair-up: Steven Grant

Erizidereal “Eriz” Aphelion:

Age: Around 29

Sexuality + Gender: Bisexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: She’s from space, so unknown (?)

Fandom: Star Wars

Pair-up: Poe Dameron

Xiomara “Mara” Castillo:

Age: 35 (from 2016)

Sexuality + Gender: Bisexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: Hispanic American

Fandom: Marvel - Luke Cage

Pair-up: Hernan “Shades” Alvarez

Zena Halcard:

Age: Around 21

Sexuality + Gender: Straight demisexual; gender-fluid

Race / Ethnicity: They’re from space, so unknown (?)

Fandom: Star Wars - Andor

Pair-up: Cassian Andor

Priya “Gaia” Vemulakonda:

Age: 30 (from 1962)

Sexuality + Gender: Pansexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: Native American

Fandom: Marvel - X-Men

Pair-up: Erik Lehnsherr

Lehava Marasigan:

Age: 36 (from 2025)

Sexuality + Gender: Bisexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: Afro-Filipino

Fandom: Marvel - Black Panther

Pair-up: Namor / K’uk’ulkan

Yéssica Fabbri:

Age: Late 30’s to early 40’s (born in 1979)

Sexuality + Gender: Pansexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: Spanish Native American

Fandom: Marvel - Werewolf by Night

Pair-up: Jack Russell

Gianna “Gia” “Ace” Pedrotti:

Age: 33 (from 2006) or 39 (from 2012)

Sexuality + Gender: Demiromantic bisexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: Italian

Fandom: DC - Arrow

Pair-up: Anyone

Vitalia “Scout” Alfero:

Age: 28 (from 2012)

Sexuality + Gender: Pansexual; she / her

Race / Ethnicity: Italian

Fandom: DC - Arrow

Pair-up: Adrian Chase

Nicole Gibson:

Age: 27 (from 2012)

Sexuality + Gender: Lesbian; she/her/they/them

Race / Ethnicity: American Caucasian

Fandom: DC - Arrow

Pair-up: Laurel Lance (Earth-1)

if anyone would like to learn more about these characters, please ask! i love writing about them :)

(last updated: september 29th, 2024)

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evita-shelby · 2 years ago

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Maybe

#namor x eva #namor x mexican!oc

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evita-shelby · 1 year ago

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What Would Eva Do?

(Wwed) send some questions and Eva will answer

Or a game i started and plan on keeping for a while

A threat in ten words, best place for a hidden knife, how she keeps Jack Nelson faithful to her(questions by @zablife

Advice (question by @look-at-the-soul)

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evita-shelby · 2 years ago

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Nice.

I have so many lol

(Two or three of these fics are in my asoiaf/lotr/fantasy fic blog @lya-dustin)

A maiden with moonglow in her hair (ch.2 cregan stark x Rhaenyra and Laenor’s daughter!oc(Aemma Velaryon))

Someone will remember us (chapter 62, Aemond x Aemma Velaryon)

Of Gods and Witches (ch.16/17? Namor x Mexican!OC(Eva Smith))

Incantatrice (ch. ?? Luca x Eva)

The moon lives in the lining of your skin (gil galad x genderfluid oc,Erinti of the Maiar)

Tell me how you die( one sided! Homelander x oc (not yet uploaded)

Your dead and mine ch.4 (Tommy x Eva)

Tagging:

@starlady66 @peakyblindas @johnathancanines @forgottenpeakywriter @urgonnaneedabiggership

WIP Tag Game

Rules : Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thanks for the tag Bri @there-goes-thefighter !! This actually encouraged me to think up titles for my unnamed fics!! 🥰 I’ve got a good bit of them stacked up, so feel free to message me about any that may sound interesting to you!

———

1. The Perfect Team - Arthur Shelby x Reader

2. Helpless - Tommy Shelby x Reader

3. Through The Night - John Shelby x Reader

4. Where the Sky Opens Up to Everything - Tommy Shelby x Reader

5. My Favorite Story - Tommy Shelby x Reader

6. Shaken, But Not Ready to Leave - Tommy Shelby x Reader

7. How Do You Remember It? - Tommy Shelby x Reader

8. At the Last Possible Minute - Tommy Shelby x Reader

9. Juniper’s Story - Tommy Shelby x Reader

10. Back to You - Tommy Shelby x Reader

11. Worth Breaking Plans For - Tommy Shelby x Reader

12. Sentimental - Tommy Shelby x Daughter!Reader

13. Signals - Tommy Shelby x Reader

14. Escaping the Ashes - Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

15. Sun to Me - Tommy Shelby x Reader

AND OF COURSE…..

My ongoing Tommy Shelby x Reader series: Birmingham.

———

Tagging: @acewritesfics @teenwolf-theoriginals @peakyscillian @peacexatxlast @shelbydelrey @peakypolly

#wip games

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urgonnaneedabiggership · 2 years ago

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NAMOR (MCU) X MEXICAN!OC

MASTERLIST

A/N: Remember you can find this fanfic on AO3 right here. Any feedback and/or comments are greatly appreciated <3 If you want to be added to the taglist, just say so!

Warnings: Mentions of violence, weapons, death and un-aliving people. Language.

Word count: 4,306

sneaky fanfic playlist song

It took Mercedes nearly two hours to tell the whole story. Sometimes, right in the middle of a sentence, she would stop dead in her tracks and stare at her hands for several minutes without making a single sound. When she got to the part where she had to face the kid whose parents she’d just shot, she simply stood up and left the house. He waited for her to come back for ten minutes until he noticed she’d left the door open. Once outside, he found her in the same spot next to the river. She simply excused herself saying she needed air.

Namor was unbelievably patient, not speaking once, nor attempting to touch her in any way, which she appreciated. Mercedes didn’t want to look at his face in case she found anything she wouldn’t like. Taking notice of this, he stopped looking at her and fixed his gaze on a random point in front of him until she finished speaking.

“I guess that little argument you overheard earlier makes much more sense now, doesn’t it?” She added after a long silence followed by a small, sad laugh as she wiped the last tears from her eyes.

“What about your aunt?” He inquired, still looking at the front as a precaution.

“She blamed me for a long time, too,” Mercedes replied, “then she suddenly started speaking to me again. She doesn’t talk much about him. To me, at least. But it’s okay, she’s happy and treats me like everything’s fine as long as he doesn’t come up, I’ll take it.”

He simply nodded, not entirely convinced of how well the arrangement worked for her. This time, the weight of his silence was too much for her.

“What are you thinking?” She meekly asked.

“They have no right to judge you like that,” He almost immediately answered, “You had the strength to do what many wouldn’t,”

“And yet my dad is still dead, my uncle is too, and the few people I have left blame for it,”

“Your uncle made his own choice. He wouldn’t have followed you until the end if he didn’t think those people deserved what happened to them. Or don’t you think they deserved it?”

“Of course they did!” She angrily protested.

“And what would’ve happened to them if you hadn’t taken this into your hands?”

“They would be free,” Sadie acknowledged through gritted teeth, “Free, rich, and with no regrets,”

“Always remember that,” Namor emphasized, “Whenever you have doubts of whether you did the right thing.”

Mercedes pursed her lips in deep thought. For years, she’d convinced herself of the uselessness of her quest, and how it only seemed to have made everything worse. But whenever she thought of the consequences of having done nothing, picturing those men with the blood of hundreds in their hands, living their lives without thinking of the ones they sold, she felt so angry that she felt her chest was on fire.

Then she realized that even now that she wasn’t really thinking about it, her chest felt as if it was actually on fire. She pressed her hand against it and groaned softly at the uncomfortable sting.

“Are you okay?” Namor asked, only then seeing fit to gently place a hand on her back. She nodded and took a deep breath.

“I think I’m going to catch a cold,” She said, shrugging it off, “My chest has been hurting for a while.”

“Have you felt anything else?” He immediately asked, his voice unusually unnerved. Mercedes furrowed her eyes for a moment, confused.

“I mean…I guess my muscles have been sore but I did get shot not so long ago and your dear friend has kicked me around so much that my brain is now convinced that I enjoy your company,” Mercedes scrunched her nose in a disgusted expression and shook her head repeatedly while moving further away from Namor. Her antics momentarily erased the worried expression on his face, but only for a few seconds. He opened his mouth to add something, but Mercedes interrupted him as she scooted back next to him, ending up a little closer than she was at first.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” She started to apologize, although she actually felt a little disappointed that he wouldn’t tell her after everything she’d just revealed to him.

“What did you do?” She warily asked. When Namor looked back at her, not seeming to have understood her, Mercedes gestured to his back reaching her hand over her shoulder to signal the place where she’d seen the scars inflicted by the Black Panther.

Namor quickly shifted his gaze back to the front apprehensively.

“No, it’s fair I suppose,” He admitted, intertwining his hands and moving his thumb in small, anxious circles.

“It’s a long story, but it all comes down to this,” He said, not intending to speak for another two hours, “I was responsible for the death of the Panther’s mother,”

“Responsible as in you killed Queen Ramonda?” Mercedes couldn’t help exclaiming, immediately feeling embarrassed at how alarmed that came out.

“It was more complicated than that. But yes, I guess I did. It came down to people making their own choices and assuming the consequences as your uncle did. She made hers, and I had to do the same.”

“And you stood by your consequences, I guess?” Sadie added more sympathetically with an apologetic smile trying to fix her previous outburst, looking at the wing that grew from one of his ankles, slightly more crooked than the other one.

“Taking a life is never an easy decision to make, especially knowing the effect it will have on others.” He said with a solemn expression, instinctively running his fingertips along the once-soft feathers, the desperate cries of a now orphaned princess briefly haunting his thoughts, “But after seeing what I would not just kill but die for, all the lives that depend on me, can you judge me?”

Mercedes didn’t answer. With every second she remained silent, he found his heart felt heavier and heavier inside his chest.

“Misfortune is needed to plumb certain mysterious depths in the understanding of men,” She finally spoke with a soft smile, quoting one of her favorite books, “A wise man said that. And I believe him because I understand.”

She could’ve sworn he saw him release the air he’d been holding when those words left her mouth, his mouth twisting into a relieved smile, which she gladly returned. When the music playing in the distance suddenly stopped, Mercedes’ smile went from calm to unbelievably excited.

“It’s midnight!” She exclaimed, standing up so quickly she almost tripped on her feet and grabbed Namor’s hand, dragging him to a nearby tree that she immediately started to climb.

“What are we doing, again?” He asked once they were at a considerable distance from the ground. Hearing it was midnight had made him feel concerned about the date he’d established for their return to Talokan.

“Just climb! I promise you’ll love it,” She urged him, forgetting he didn’t actually need to climb

Finally, they reached the end of the trunk, which was barely wide enough to hold them both comfortably. Mercedes cursed, frustrated when she realized a huge branch was blocking their view.

“Maybe we can find another spot…”

Much to her surprise, Namor gripped the branch and, after making sure nobody was close enough to see them, snapped it in two as swiftly as if it was a mere twig. Satisfied, he returned to his previous spot to find a stunned Mercedes staring as if he truly was the divine being everybody claimed him to be.

“Please, don’t take this the wrong way,” She said, peeling her eyes off him to look at the branch on the floor, “but you’re giving me feelings too unholy to come from a so-called god.”

Not wanting to experience the embarrassment of telling him she thought right then he was the most beautiful living thing on the planet, Mercedes decided to do something that, at least in her mind, sounded easier.

Namor didn’t even have time to react to the undoubtedly brazen line thrown his way because a loud bang made him look at the dark sky above them. Until it wasn’t dark anymore.

He thought it looked as if somebody had painted the stars and made them fall to Earth in a strange, synchronized dance. With every blast, came a new color and choreography. He was so enthralled by it that he didn’t realize he had instinctively stood in front of Mercedes at the first detonation.

Not wanting to break his bubble but unwilling to miss her beloved fireworks, she slowly made her way around him. The reduced space made it impossible for her not to be pressed against his side, with his arm holding onto a branch low enough for it to be nearly resting against her shoulders.

However, after settling into a slot with a perfect view, she found it much harder to take her eyes off him.

The colored, ephemeral bursts of light seemed to bounce off his dark eyes and skin, a soft and warm wind threw a few stray hairs against his forehead and he didn’t look just mesmerized. He looked happy. The edges of his mouth were curved in an almost imperceptible smile, and knowing she had been the cause made her feel so happy it made her dizzy. This time, when he took his eyes off the sky and caught her staring, Mercedes felt either tipsy or brave enough to think it was stupid to turn away and pretend she wasn’t looking at him. She was. Because he was beautiful.

Except they didn’t.

Before she had time to regret it, she slid her hand around his neck and pulled him down just strong enough so the few centimeters between them would cease to exist. It was so sudden and poorly planned that she nearly crushed his nose with hers, and a few strands of her hair got caught between their lips, plus she didn’t quite know what to do with her other hand so it just ended up awkwardly suspended mid-air.

But it was perfect. Even if it didn’t last more than one or two seconds, she missed the warmth of his mouth the moment she pulled away in panic and stared at him with more fear than she’d thought she was capable of even feeling. Seeing the shock in Namor’s eyes Mercedes was already planning a million different excuses and answers to the many questions that would surely come next.

She didn’t want it to stop. Even if her lungs were on fire and she needed air desperately, his unrelenting intensity gave away that he had forgotten that tiny, tiny detail. But when her chest started to truly hurt, she chose self-preservation over this incredible bliss and pulled away from him, heavily panting.

Too lost in the chaos of her own mind, Mercedes was unaware of the arms silently snaking behind her back until they pulled her forward and her train of thought was abruptly stopped by the awareness of his lips being pressed against hers again. With her hands this time free to do as they pleased, she was about to place them on each side of his face until he pulled her even closer, her lips parting on instinct when she noticed him slightly tilting his head to the side. Sadie didn’t want Namor to notice how her hands were trembling, already embarrassed enough at the null resistance she was putting up. Then, Namor holding her completely against him was probably what kept her entire body from shaking as well. Finally, she decided to slide her arms around his neck, both pulling him closer and leaving her hands still in the air.

Mercedes didn’t truly measure the consequences of that action until her back was pressed against the bark of the tree.

That brief moment in which she could only state at him in silence truly made her feel conscious of what she’d just done. Completely disregarding the height at which they were, she dropped herself down onto the next branch, ignoring the way the rough bark scratched her knees and arms. The only reason why Mercedes managed to make it down and run back inside was that every muscle in Namor’s body seemed to have collectively malfunctioned. When he finally regained mobility, he began to absently climb down the tree only to remember halfway down that he was actually able to fly.

He couldn’t stop thinking of the panicked look in the girl’s eyes the minute she pulled away from him. What was she so afraid of? Him? Maybe being so sincere about the things he’d done had thrown a different light on him, but had he given her any reason to fear…?

It was only when he was left alone by the quiet river that he was assailed by all the questions he had not been able to ask out loud. She had kissed him. He couldn’t help but feel ashamed and frustrated that he never dared to take the initiative about something he now admitted had been dying to do on so many occasions, and that manifested physically as him shutting his eyelids tightly and running his hand across his face.

And of course, she had to run again. She was now probably locked in her bedroom and there would be no way to drag her out of there.

Of course he had.

He knew there was no way he could take her back against her will now. Namor wished for her to want to return. No matter how much he’d suffer from her absence, if she didn’t suffer the same from his, there was no point. He didn’t care how selfish that last thought was.

He remembered the first days of her stay in Talokan. The harsh words exchanged, the entire days in isolation, the intermittent meals, the threats if she tried to escape. And speaking of escaping.

There was also the incident aboard the poaching ship when he left her to fend for herself and it almost got her killed. It was one thing to trust someone enough to make peace and be friendly with them and another very different to become…involved like this. For somebody so ridiculously hung up on what a mere kiss in a moment of intense emotion meant to her, Namor realized he hadn’t done much of a good job earning merits. She was probably kicking herself over having done something so stupid and careless, knowing damn well he was now going to be so angry at her antics that he would drag her back to Talokan no questions asked because that was the image he had built of himself.

When she finally reached him, Moni impatiently handed him the blanket, which he accepted out of politeness and a certain hope that she’d just go away and leave him be. It was quite the opposite actually. She looked at every inch of his face attentively, her grouchy disposition softening as she huffed and sat on a large rock nearby.

“Pero es que tú te quieres enfermar, ¿verdad?” A familiar voice called behind him. She turned around to find Moni snuggled in a thick blanket, making her way to him with another one in her hands and a disgruntled look on her face. “Es que no entiendo cómo aguantas este frío si según mi niña vienes de Yucatán, qué bárbaro.”

You want to fall ill, don't you? I just don't understand how can you stand this cold if according to my child you're from Yucatán, good Lord!

Even then she didn’t miss an opportunity to get some answers. However, Namor could do nothing but wholeheartedly give her a clueless look and shrug as he stared at the house.

“Venía de regreso de la feria y acabo de ver a Mercedes entrar corriendo a la casa pálida como si hubiera visto un fantasma, y para que una chica como ella se vea pálida, algo debes de haber hecho,” Moni explained, “Pleitos de pareja, ¿no?”

I was on my way back from the fair and I just saw Mercedes run inside the house looking pale as if she'd seen a ghost. And for a girl like that to look pale, you must've done something. Couple's quarrels, right?

Mercedes wasn’t locked away in her room. She wasn’t even in the house, she had just rushed inside to throw him off before escaping through the kitchen window. Now, if he for any reason decided to follow her, all he’d find would be her empty bedroom.

In the meantime, Mercedes ran as fast as she could across the now empty square. Now everybody had gone home and the only remnants of the lively fair were ripped pieces of colorful paper still hanging from the walls, dirty confetti on the floor, and several whithered flowers that had fallen from the arch.

Before her, the walls of the white building now displayed a yellowish shade from the streetlight bulbs that threw some light on them. Almost every light in the building was turned off, one of the exceptions being the main desk. Still, she knew they didn’t receive visitors after eight. Just like she anticipated, she noticed the only light still on in the housing section was the one that belonged to Chiich’s room. She had stayed awake to watch the fireworks, as she always did. With a smile, she promptly circled the building and effortlessly jumped the fence, avoiding detection thanks to the concealment provided by the night.

She shook her head with a soft smile and pushed the window open, slowly making her way inside so she wouldn’t spook her.

While the smooth concrete walls of the complex were nearly impossible to climb, the long windowsills were her salvation and in less than three minutes, Mercedes had reached the third-story window with a lock safe enough for an old woman but easy to open with just a plastic card. Still, she knocked on the glass to warn her before attempting to enter. While the lights were on, there was no response. Mercedes wondered if she had fallen asleep on her chair or tucked herself into bed and forgot to turn off the lights. It had happened before.

The room was empty. There hadn’t been a fuss, nothing was out of place besides the covers on the unmade bed. However, her slippers were still there, as were her shawl and glasses. Mercedes quickly ran downstairs to the main desk, intending to first get the receptionist to help her look for her grandmother and then give her a piece of her mind. Even if she’d never had a history of sleepwalking, she was supposed to be safe there.

“Ma’alo’ob áak’ab, chiich,” she greeted, quietly closing the window before turning around. Her smile dropped and she nearly stumbled backwards, baffled.

Good night, chiich

“¿Me quiere explicar por qué mi abuela…?” She started to demand only to stop dead in her tracks. The main desk was empty, too. Maybe the lady had already noticed her one of the residents was missing. Still, Mercedes felt her heart start pounding heavily, a cold shiver running down her spine. Her gut said something was terribly wrong. Slowly, she approached the vacant desk, wishing she had at least a gun on her. Of course, that was the last thing she thought she would need there, in addition to the haste in which she had rushed there.

Do you care to explain why is my grandmother...?

When she looked over the desk to find the body behind it, it was as if she already expected to see it there. It was the receptionist, of course. Somebody had put a bullet right through her forehead, not even giving her time to scream.

Not having one more second to waste, Mercedes ran back outside, looking around desperately. How was it possible that right in the middle of nowhere she could’ve missed the sound of…?

Her eyes immediately darted up to the sky as a horrible mix of realization and anger boiled inside of her when she remembered the fireworks and where she had been throughout the entire show.

Thankfully, a noise coming from outside made him snap out of that untimely fantasy. A moment later, he was on his feet and leaning against the wall next to the open window, unable to see further than a few meters of grass. Listening carefully, Namor heard the sound of shoes against rock and realized somebody was climbing through the window. Unarmed but sure he could face whoever was coming, he slowly moved closer to the frame. Unfortunately, the change of position made the wooden floor below his feet creek quite loudly, and the sounds coming from the outside stopped abruptly. Namor took a deep breath and crouched next to the wall, counting backwards as he got ready to dart out of the window and grab the intruder. When he got to one, the Talokanil sprung to his feet just in time to be tackled by a figure that jumped inside, using the impulse to jam one knee against his chest to push him down and, once he was on the floor, switch it for a knife against his neck.

Sadie turned around, ready to go back inside and look around her grandmother’s bedroom in search of something, anything, that could give her an idea of what she was dealing with. However, something moving on her right made her turn around sharply just to discover something tied to the branch of one of the fruit trees that decorated the front yard. Something that fluttered in the wind. With a knot in her throat, she untangled the hand-embroidered purple shawl to reach for the piece of paper roughly stapled to it.

For the second time that day, Namor found himself staring at the ceiling while lying on a foreign bed. Even hours later, the characteristic smell of the duvets was still intense. Fresh moss, and a small white flower that grew on a tree next to the small house. How it was possible that she still smelled like that while being hundreds of feet below the ocean, was beyond him. He wondered if, should he convince her to leave with him, her scent would change over the years. If maybe one day, he would smell her hair and find the incense that flooded every Talokanil household.

If one day, he would kiss her again and taste the sea…

A threat was about to leave Mercedes’ mouth when she recognized the man beneath her. They stared at each other, one confused about why the woman that owned the bedroom had to sneak in through the window and had tried to murder whoever was inside, the other wondering whether she should apologize and how to do it. However, the only thing that left her mouth was

“What the hell is wrong with you?” after which she pushed herself away from him with an annoyed huff as she rushed to her nightstand.

“Me? Why are you climbing through the window?” He pushed back as he got up.

Namor furrowed his eyebrows when she saw Mercedes take a gun out of one of the drawers and make sure it had enough bullets before tucking it in the back of her jeans.

“What are you doing?” He asked as she rushed to the other side of the room to check a small bookshelf for more ammunition. Mercedes slid a couple of cartridges into her pockets and retrieve a crumpled-up piece of paper, which she unfolded and slammed against Namor’s chest. He grabbed it and turned it around to find a typed-up note that only read “Laptop. 7:00 a.m.” followed by a series of numbers. But it was the sender that really piqued his attention. The note was signed by “those not aboard”.

“They have my chiich,” She informed him, “I’m getting her back,”

“I’m coming with you,”

“It’s not your fight,” Mercedes protested, “Besides, it could be dangerous if they see you and the word gets out,”

“The word will not get out,” He calmly stated.

“How can you…?” She was about to ask when she looked up and saw in his eyes what he meant.

“I don’t know how many we’re dealing with, and we don’t have any of your Talokanil gadgets.”

“I wrongly underestimated you once, Xmeech. Don’t insult me by assuming I need anything other than my hands.”

“I didn’t mean you,” Mercedes snapped at him, kneeling down next to her bed and pulling out an old, dusty box, “you can look after yourself. I mean I’ll have to manage with this,”

Inside the box, miraculously unshattered, at least a dozen glass bottles with several loose pieces of old cloth and a matchbox were waiting for better use be made of them. They belonged to another time when they were used by a person that Mercedes once hoped did not need to exist anymore.

“I will stay close, then” Namor ensured.

“You don’t owe me anything for what happened a while ago,” Sadie dryly replied, carefully putting the contents of the box inside an old backpack, “I can look after myself.”

“I owe you because the last time we were in this situation I left,” He clarified, a hint of annoyance in his voice, “We’re even after this.”

Having nothing else to say, Mercedes carefully swung the window open and climbed over the wooden frame.

“Mercedes,” Namor called before losing sight of her, “Do you understand that, regardless of what happens, the laptop is still back in Talokan?”

Apparently unfazed by the use of her full name, the woman stared at him with an unreadable expression for a moment before starting to climb down.

“Let’s go, we don’t have much time,”

Taglist: @evita-shelby

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evita-shelby · 2 years ago

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Of Gods and Witches

Chapter 13

Gif by @crushondonald

Taglist: @v3d3rl1cht @thegreatdragonfruta @urgonnaneedabiggership

They leave and go to the Hacienda. Easier to erase the cenote and the Talokanil out of their minds if they aren’t there.

Flores del Mar.

He scoffed at the name, until Livia Drusilla told him the name had been given to it by her late sister-in-law and to insult the name she gave her home is to insult the late woman’s memory.

The place had changed over the years and yet it was stuck exactly as it had been when he first crossed paths with Benjamin Riley, the red-haired father-to-be who Namor had almost killed by scaring his horse.

He had gone riding through the land to clear his head and nearly lost it had he not cursed in Nahuatl.

I bought this place for my wife. Her mother was a maid here when she was little and now my Nicte is the lady of the house. I never want her or our children to think they are not worthy of the life she deserves; Benjamin had said as he asked what he was doing there.

“Eva says you are a mutant like us, but the villagers say you are a god. Which one is it?” Santiago asked the king as they settled in sitting room they had entered.

He had never set foot inside this place, he had only stood beside his mother’s grave and dealt justice to those who had enslaved his people.

There were some similarities between this place and Eva’s home, but it didn’t stop the hairs on the back of his neck from rising in warning.

But his witch squeezed his hand assuring him there was no danger here, reminded him that the people here with him were more like him than the people who had erected this fucking place.

They needed to discuss things, who could know she was still alive, which of them was allowed to know he was a mutant king of a mutant kingdom for safety reasons and about how many times would Eva make an appearance here to let them know she was well.

Ignacio had met two Norse gods, but Santiago had been trying to find if there were more people like them.

And he had found them, most of them had been wrangled into working for some government or secret society or independently like him because what else were they supposed to do with their powers.

If one could know about his existence ---for all but one would leave here thinking K’uk’ulkan is just a normal human man Eva had eloped with after staging her own suicide--- he would choose Santiago.

“My people believe I am a god, but I am a mutant, similar to them.” He answered the spy’s inquires.

Santiago was more subdued than his two cousins, Ignacio the more vivacious of the three and Eva was a pleasant mix of the two.

“I’ve met others like us, you would be surprised to know how many of us exist.” Us, he says, other mutants.

“Two brothers, Victor and James. One can make claws appear from his fingertips and the other bone claws from his knuckles. There is one in Europe who consumes the life and power of those he touches, nearly got me during a mission that went wrong---” Santiago continues, but K’uk’ulkan interrupts.

“Eva is a witch, not a mutant, how do you explain that?” he asks. Things were missing, not enough information kept around for safety purposes and even then whatever he had gotten his hands on was scarce.

All peoples had magic wielders too, but some argued that the gods and magic did not exist therefore magic wielders were simply mutants.

And now here there were people like him, but not like him who seemed to know the answers to his questions.

“Not all magic wielders are mutants, some like me and Itza just happen to be mutants.” Eva answered his question, still daring to hold his hand despite her aunt’s grumbling about it being improper.

“Eva’s father knew a woman who’s mutation allowed her and her sister-in-law to communicate with their deceased, one of her sons is a brilliant man with above average intelligence and a strange sort of invulnerability---'” Santiago went on to explain further and was cut off by his aunt who sat there drinking something he assumed was wine.

“Unfortunately, they use their gifts for criminal purposes, and somehow Enrique’s brother thinks one of them would have suit with Evita. Thank God you came along.” The wine had loosened her tongue, and he preferred this woman over the one who accused him of doing heinous things to her niece.

Livia Drusilla was everything a lady was supposed to be, but to compensate for her lack of supernatural abilities, the gods were kind enough to give her an honest, but clearly forked tongue.

“Oh, so now you approve of him, mama?” Nacho taunted and took the wine glass from her. “First you hate him for taking our dear and deranged Evita and now you think he might be the only one on the list worthy of her.”

“Don’t call me that, Nacho.” Eva warned her cousin.

She had told him how the first time she lost control was because the girls in her boarding school had started calling her Eva la Loca and suddenly the quiet rain outside turned into a furious storm that broke every window in the classroom she had been in.

“Sorry, prima, I forgot you don’t like those words.” Nacho apologized and somehow that prompted his mother to apologize for her scene at the cenote.

“I must apologize for getting off on the wrong foot with you, but do understand I love Eva as if she were my daughter and you can’t expect a mother to act rationally if they believe their child has been hurt and taken against their will.” She apologized genuinely and Ch’ah found himself accepting it not just because of Eva who hoped the two of them to call a truce for her sake, but because that was a sentiment he understood well.

“I understand.” He had no children ---yet--- but anytime one of his people, who are like his children, were hurt by surface dwellers, he rained hell on them in revenge.

Namor loved as deeply as he hated and his wrath was as great as the ocean itself.

Something he and the red haired woman across from him had in common.

----

“Now that we know I’m not dying, I feel so embarrassed about telling you everything about me.” She said as he led her in the basic dance steps she had taught him in Veracruz. "I don't know if i should marry you or kill you."

Eva had splurged on music in his language and hers, and what better time to show him her gifts for him than tonight.

The witch had taught him how to use the gramophone, and the radio and even the piano. She had also tried to teach him a simple dance, but at some point, they’d given up. They had stood in the music room skin tingling and hearts beating in tandem as both witch and god fought the urge to devour each other.

“You told me I was getting the bad end of the deal by letting you know my name, now my name will live forever with you, and you will live forever with me.” He nuzzled against her cheek before kissing her in that addictive way of his. “In watan.”

“In wíichan.” She said in between kisses.

They were to marry in the presence of his mother’s stone later tonight and her family would wake up in the morning thinking Eva eloped with a human Mayan man. Well, everyone except Santiago who would be given a conch shell to summon them here.

Eva and Ch'ah had wanted a proper courtship, to have time to truly get to know and love each other, but the moment Livia asked if she was living in sin with Ch’ah it was decided they would marry where she could see them.

She’d die if she knew Eva and her soon-to-be husband had thrown caution to the wind and stopped being careful when they fucked this past week in Tlalocan.

Who knows, Eva may follow her mother’s footsteps and have a baby born seven months after the wedding.

“You aren’t too keen on marrying me, ki’ichpan.” As always, his powers of observation are unparalleled even when faced with a practiced liar like her.

“We have only known each other for three weeks.” She admits, resting her head against his as they stopped slow dancing to a soft and romantic song in Yucateco. “There’s a saying, marry in haste, repent at leisure.”

Ch’ah as usual, doesn’t ridicule her for her thoughts and feelings and heard her out. “Are you afraid you’ll regret it?”

The witch loved this intimacy, this closeness, being able to just be with him like this and know she’s not alone anymore.

“Talokanil law permits divorce, if one day you wake up and decide it’s over, you can divorce me.” He said, hiding the pang of hurt he feels at the thought of it, but saying it anyways.

But that wasn’t really what was worrying her.

She is mortal, she will grow old and die.

“I won’t live as long as you do, Ch’ah.” The witch feels sorrow well up in her throat as she says it. “I. I---”

“You don’t want to hurt me.” He finished the sentence she can’t bear to say and the hands on her waist came to hold her face as if she were his greatest treasure. "To that I ask you, in Eva, what is grief, if not love persevering?”

And so they marry, with Itza and Kinich, with her family and some of K’uk’ulkan’s soldiers and some others to serve as witnesses.

Eva Smith dies and in her place stands the Witch Queen of Talokan.

----

notes: I will probably be doing a time skip so we can get into Black Panther: Wakanda Forever and filling in the gaps through one shots

Victor and James are Victor Creed(Sabertooth) and James Howlett (Wolverine), the european who sucks peoples likves and powers is Sebastian Shaw who was also Dr. Klaus Schimdt who was the Nazi scientist experimenting on Jewish people and Magneto. Charles Xavier and Erik Leshner(Magneto) aren't born yet.

yes, i also made the shelbys from peaky blinders into mutants lol

and also borrowed vision's line from WandaVision

translations:

in watan: my wife

in wiichan: my husband

ki'ichpan: beautiful woman, pretty girl, precious, etc

in Eva: my eva

tlalocan: nahuatl spelling of Talokan

#eva smith riley #of gods and witches fic #namor x mexican!oc #namor x eva #kukulkan x oc #the witch queen of talokan series

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evita-shelby · 2 years ago

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666 Followers😈

So this was supposed to come out sooner but because of the pornbots i didn't notice i hit this milestone(i actually 713 followers now yay)

Thank you to each and everyone of you who is not a porn bot and follow me by your own free will 🖤🖤🖤

So to celebrate this milestone we have these

🏹- send me a prompt,gif, or whatever and I'll write something

🗡 - write or make a moodboard for me

⚔️ -write or make a moodboard for me and i will make a moodboard or write something to compliment your gift

⚰️- take any of my ocs for spin

(Everything will be tagged and should be tagged eva666🖤)

Masterlist

#eva smith shelby #eva666🖤#tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby fanfic #luca changretta x eva smith #luca changretta fanfic #namor x mexican!reader #namor x mexican!oc #peaky blinders fanfiction

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evita-shelby · 2 years ago

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Of Gods and Witches

Rated: M

Cw: mentions of mental health issues, death, alcohol abuse,murder, racism, colorism

Summary: In 1920s Mexico a bored witch named Eva decides to summon the Aztec God, Quetzalcoatl, only to summon K'uk'ulkan instead.

Taglist: @v3d3rl1cht @thegreatdragonfruta

One shots: Árboles bajo el mar

Discontinued 4/29/2024, kinda just lost interest

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

#oc:eva smith riley #eva smith shelby #namor x oc #kukulkan namor #kukulkan x oc #namor #namor x mexican!oc

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evita-shelby · 2 years ago

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Of Gods and Witches

Chapter 4

M-ish 🔞

Taglist: @v3d3rl1cht

(Yes, Guatemalan-Puerto Rican Actress Afria Arjona is my faceclaim for Eva)

Vw: mentions of sex, animal death, previous attempted sexual assault

Gif by @queenlagerthaa

She was born in December 1st 1896 to Henry Smith, the son of an English Romani woman and her Irish Traveller husband, and Isabel Riley, the youngest daughter of an Irish born Mexican war hero and his wealthy Spanish-Mexica wife.

She was supposed to be born December 12th, but someone had wagered ten thousand pesos that her mother could not get the next Pope to baptize her child.

So with the help of castor oil, Eva’s mother’s waters broke inside the Sistine Chapel.

While the circumstance of her birth was no coincidence, the fact that Isabel went into labor underneath God’s Creation of Eve was.

And so, the witch named the only child who inherited her gifts and all the luck in the world ---as well as the money Isabel had won with her cunning---, Eva Leonor Smith Riley.

It was that luck that kept her alive and would keep her so.

“I used to have a cacatúa with feathers like that.” She said as she stroked the feathers on his ankle wings making him groan in arousal and laugh at her words.

Eva was supposed get up and look for her clothes, but then she finally had a chance at touching his wings.

She had felt them brushing against her legs on occasion, hearing them flutter a little when they fucked.

For a moment the witch wondered if he’d take off when he came. This he had laughed at when she told him.

“What happened to it?” K’uk’ulkan asked amused and looking more disheveled than her.

His jewels and accessories had been strewn about when both god and witch gave into their lust and tore each other’s clothes off.

K’uk’ulkan was to be her first and her last, and even if she survived and lived long enough to marry, no man would ever compare to him.

“Got eaten by a black jaguar. My grandmother’s hacienda borders the jungle, and I thought I was doing a good deed by releasing it into the wild.” She answered sheepishly and he chuckled at her anecdote. “A very stupid thing to do, I know, but I was a child of nine.”

And a very odd thing to say to a man when you had done this with the intentions of taking him into your mouth, the witch thinks. Spirits, why was she even telling him this? This was supposed to be just sex.

“If you keep touching my wings like that, you won’t be able to walk for days.” He says so crudely, as if the witch didn’t want that to happen.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Kukul.” She smirked and lifted herself over his chest until she is just a whisper away from his mouth.

He doesn’t like the casual use of the nickname, made her call him Namor as he took her when she struggled to get pronounce his three-syllable name.

“Don’t call me that, wàay.” His hand, warm and calloused like that of a farm hand came to her neck.

She stills, but he doesn’t register that she is not comfortable with that.

Had she been different she would’ve found it erotic.

But she is Eva, and Eva has enough baggage to fill one of her family’s cargo ships.

“The last man who put his hand around my neck ended up with my hunting knife embedded in his skull.” She breathes out and he releases her, his hand moving upwards, to thread itself with her hair and pulling her to his mouth.

She doesn’t mind the hair pulling, not when she gets to pull his in return. His hair is soft, she had expected it to be coarse from the salt, but he had hair as smooth as the dandies who spend thousands of pesos in French hair products.

K’uk’ulkan kissed her deeply, he likes to kiss with tongue, taste her until she must pull him away because she can’t breathe.

He didn’t have such weakness, K’uk’ulkan was more god than man and she was his worshipper, his priestess, his witch.

“You are a dangerous one, aren’t you?” his voice alone is enough to make her come undone; he is as perfect as a lover as he was a stranger.

“You have no idea.”

He leaves without so much as a goodbye, why would he, this had just been them giving into the pull they felt towards each other.

Two lonely souls who have been drawn together just for a perfect moment.

But the witch can’t help but smile when she finds the two-strand pearl necklace forgotten under her silk robe.

#eva smith riley #kukulkan namor #eva x namor #kukulkan x oc #namor x mexican!oc

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evita-shelby · 2 years ago

Text

Of Gods and Witches

Chapter 7

Taglist: @v3d3rl1cht @thegreatdragonfruta

Gif by @wiha-jun

He finds her packing things.

He feels stupid, holding the strange parchment paper in which Itza wrote the spell on and knowing that she will unravel the paper to find his mother’s bracelet there.

K’uk’ulkan comes bearing gifts and she is leaving.

“Where are you going?” He asks as she hums along to some song in Spanish in a long black skirt and flowery lilac blouse.

Every time he comes to see her Eva is wearing more clothes than the previous time.

They dress so oddly, he thinks. She would look better in Talokanil clothes, no strange undergarments, no rows of buttons or clasps to get past of.

Her hair is braided and tied with a black ribbon. Ch'ah prefers it loose, to see her dark brown hair fall down her back, to brush it aside as he kissed the freckles on her neck and shoulders.

“If I get my way, Yucatan, a certain hacienda by the sea under a false name. If my family overrides my wishes, England in a landlocked city where I only know three people and will be married off to a man I've never met.” His witch answered and carefully put books in a box.

The mention of anyone else having her displeased him.

He was a selfish man when it came to love; he could admit to it.

He didn’t love her, and yet the idea of another man touching her and loving her angered him.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Ch’ah.” His witch, his woman says bemused as she pauses and takes out a book from the box and setting it back on the table.

It was her favorite, a novel she knew by heart.

There is a file on the table by her. The information of the man they want her to marry.

A white man, a white man who is a proven warrior and would provide her with a home and security.

The man who will live life knowing he will be second best.

Or the man who will make her forget you, a voice said as he tossed the file back in its place.

“In Talokan it is treason to take the king’s property.” He is possessive of her, not jealous. No why would he be jealous of surface-dwelling mortal man across the sea.

“Am I your property now, oh great K’uk’ulkan?” She turns to face him, not indignant of the word he used, but teasing him about his sudden possessiveness of her, a woman he has only known for six or seven days.

“You aren’t, Eva. I would never reduce you to chattel.” He answered honestly.

No, Eva could never be that. For a surface dweller, she was almost equal to him.

A soldier, a witch, a spy.

She thrived no matter how impossible her circumstances became as they changed because of the revolution.

Had she been Talokanil she would be one of his advisors, perhaps he will make her an advisor, her skills could be put to good use.

And you would get to be with her in the open with no one to stop the two of you, he can hear Itza say.

“I know,” the witch assured him she wasn’t insulted by his words. “Besides, if you ever do consider me property, I will demand that I would be able to say the same.”

K’uk’ulkan, God King of Talokan and maker of the sun, is left stunned by her words.

-----

Oh shit.

She made it weird.

Eva could laugh and say it’s a joke, but she knows she won’t get away with it.

No, how can you take back coming onto a man you truly like knowing your relationship is based on her being shamelessly vulnerable with him and earth-shattering sex.

“I have a gift for you.” He says, nothing except a slight flash of surprise in his eyes betraying his reaction to her words.

She takes it with great care, unfurling the roll and barely catching the ancient bracelet as it falls to the ground.

It is his mother’s bracelet, made with the fibers of the plant that made him and his people the way they were. She wore it until she breathed her last, removing it from her own wrist and giving it to her only child.

This is more serious than her coming on to him.

He may as well be proposing marriage to her.

“It is beautiful, Ch’ah. I can feel the love your mother had for you and your people in every bead, every stone. Your name is carved here, isn’t it?” she lovingly studied the bracelet, loving every detail of it. Whoever made it had known his mother very well.

“Ch’ah Toh Almehen.” The witch pronounced his name just as he taught her as she read the carvings and the tips of his ears turned red.

Eva wouldn’t mind marrying Ch’ah, she thinks.

Handsome, thoughtful, better than any man she’s ever known.

“May I?” he asks and she nods, extending her wrist so he may fasten it.

The gesture is intimate, more so than the nights they have spent together in a tangle of limbs.

He is gentle, so gentle and sweet with her that the young witch knows she will love this man till her last breath.

And he knows it too, she can tell as they stand there just breathing the same air, his warm hands tenderly holding her wrist and leaning in as if to kiss her.

And just like that first night, she takes the initiative and kissed him like she might die if she doesn’t.

-----

K’uk’ulkan knows for sure that Itza never intended for Eva to try this spell wearing only her strange undergarments, the bracelet and his pearls.

She has a tub, a porcelain thing big enough for two. He sits beside it and stands by in case the spell fails.

And it has, four times. Eva tweaks the runes and casts them on her skin again before submerging herself completely in the ocean thinking it was the water.

Just like the four times before it only works until the runes fall apart from the water.

“You’re going to kill yourself.” He points out the obvious as she resurfaced and held onto him for dear life.

“I’m going to die anyways, Ch’ah. This is my only chance.” She says stubbornly. “Tell me about Itza, are her runes on her skin or over something else?”

“Jade necklace around her gills.” He answered as both king and witch came to the same conclusion.

The sixth try is unsuccessful when cast the spell on his pearl necklace and he refuses to let her try again.

“Would you let me cast the runes on your mother’s bracelet?” Eva asks once they get back to the beach and tries to convince him to let her try one more time.

Sure enough, on the seventh try Itza’s spell works and once again the bracelet saves the life of its wearer.

#kukulkan namor #namor fic #namor x eva #namor x mexican!oc #eva smith riley

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evita-shelby · 1 year ago

Text

Of Gods and Witches

Chapter 19

A/N: so imma be going on hiatus for a while and we know the reason why. So until the situation with Tenoch Huerta is resolved, i will be putting off updating this fic as i cannot write it without feeling a bit 😬 about it all

Enjoy, anyways

Gif by @kukvlkan

Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @urgonnaneedabiggership @v3d3rl1cht

Eva has never considered herself cowardly, but then again, she has been lying about her health for the past two years to avoid the talks that come with it and those looks of pity she loathes so much.

So, after Ch’ah shows Shuri the beauty of Talokan’s main city-state and the sun that rises over it, she finally answers the young woman’s burning question.

“You are not a mutant like him.” She points out when they return to the hut and find her giving Itza to her nanny.

They usually do not employ a nursemaid for the girls, but Eva’s waning health does not allow her to keep up with her five-year-old child anymore.

Once this is over, she will make up for lost time.

“Yes, and no. I am more like the woman called the Scarlett Witch, in that I am both capable of magic, but also have genetic mutations passed down to me from my ancestors.

Despite how great I look; I am actually quite old. You see I was born in the year 1896 in a period known in Mexico as the Porfierato and grew up during the Second Revolution. When I was twenty-two, I was put under house arrest for sedition and due to the immense boredom, that came with it, I decided to try my hand at summoning Quetzalcoatl.” The witch decides against a detailed story about her life, there will be time for that later and while, Shuri seems to have done research on Post classical Mayan artefacts, she likely has no knowledge of Mexico’s history.

“Instead of summoning the true Feathered Serpent God, she somehow managed to summon me.” K’uk’ulkan said with a rather nostalgic smile and a firm squeeze of Eva’s hand. “I saw her dancing on the beach outside of her home and felt a connection to her as if I had always known her.”

“Later I would discover the spell I had found was to summon one’s soulmate but by then we had met, fallen in love and been married for several years.” This was the story they told everyone.

And yet all those details that they hold deep in their hearts occasionally manage to be found in murals, novels and stage productions of how Talokan came to have its queen.

“How did you manage to live underwater, if you don’t mind me asking.” Shuri, who has no real interest in romance asks the question they needed her to ask.

Eva answers by showing her the bracelet.

“The chief sorceress of Talokan taught me the runes that allowed to appear as human in the surface without the need for a rebreather. K’uk’ulkan, as a token of his love, gave me the bracelet made with the fibers of the plant that saved the life of his people, but most importantly, his mother.

I was able to cast the runes on it due to its significance and origin and live just as he does.”

And because it is all that is left of the vibranium flowers, she will have to give it up to live like him in truth instead of dying like the Black Panther did.

When Namor gets summoned onto the surface by the queen, Eva takes her chance.

“There is something else, Shuri. Something I need you to swear you will do no matter what happens.” The seriousness in her face causes worry in the young princess.

Her eyes widen thinking she is asking her to protect her children and the Talokanil, something Eva knows she doesn’t even have to ask for.

“I give you my word, as Princess of Wakanda.” She says readily.

And yet it doesn’t stop her from gasping when Eva removes the bracelet from her wrist.

The glamour fades away and Shuri is presented with a ghost of her past.

Her brother.

“The key ingredient to the cure lies in the vibranium flowers. I cannot make it grow, the soil here does not allow it to, and I cannot risk the surface world.” Eva begins explaining. “You are my only hope.”

“What do you wish me to do?” she asks, and Eva just gives a grateful smile as she gives her the bracelet.

“Take it and recreate the flower in your laboratory. Your people need the Black Panther just as my disease needs a cure.

One flower is all I need to live.”

Eva had not expected the Wakandan warrior woman.

Nakia, mother to Prince T’Challa son of T’Challa, she could see it even as the guards hurried to protect the queen and prevent her from freeing their prisoners.

“Let them go.” She orders the guards who no longer think she is as powerful as she had been.

“My queen, what has she done to you?” the guard holding a knife to Shuri’s throat asks thinking the worse.

“We must kill them.” The senior guard overrides her command due to her sudden change in health. “They have hurt our queen!”

And when Eva lifts her arms to cast a shield on the girls, Nakia fires her weapon and doesn’t miss.

Eva sees the blood on her chest as she slumps forward, and all hell breaks loose.

They took her.

It was a trap.

All there was left was a dying soldier and blood.

So much blood.

This was an act of war.

“Our people invoke my name when they pray for protection. Their deaths will not go unpunished.

Gather the city.”

They took his wife and mother of his children and Wakanda will pay the price.

He had been blinded by the hope of finding an ally in the Wakandan Princess.

To find a way to keep Talokan safe and know there would be someone out there to aid him in that.

And they had killed his wife the moment his back was turned.

If the queen wanted war, Namor would give her what she wanted.

Eva hates the cold white of modernity.

Hates the pastel colors of hospitals and the thin papery feel of the clothes they make her wear.

Her queen’s regalia is replaced by bandages under a loose button-down shirt and pajama shorts.

These too were white.

She’d kill for something darker, like black.

Black is such a nice color.

The nurses and doctors speak in a strange language, Wakandan or Xhosa, she cannot quite place it.

She is awake, she is alive, that much she can understand.

“Easy, your grace, your injury has been giving us a challenging time. Your illness complicates the healing process I am afraid.” One of the women, a bald one with an overly sweet nature, said as they helped her sit up.

Fluffed her pillows and offered her something to drink and everything.

“Where am I?” she asks in English.

“You are in Wakanda.”

#eva smith riley #kukulkan namor #namor x eva #kukulkan x oc #of gods and witches fic #namor x mexican!oc

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evita-shelby · 2 years ago

Text

Of Gods and Witches

Chapter 2

Cw:some light racism, mentions of death, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of suicide attempts

Gif by: @unicornspwnall

“I hate speaking in that language.” He admits once he has gotten comfortable in the cushions she had placed around the low table.

“I’m glad you speak Nahua, but I suppose I should invest on lessons in Yucateco.” Eva took a small colored glass bowl of nuts from the table. “Again, I apologize for calling you Quetzalcoatl, you must think I am the stupidest witch in the world.”

“I heard your voice through the waves, you sing terribly, but then I saw you dancing and decided to stay.”

Drawn like a moth to a flame, a witch could bewitch someone just by being seen.

Eva knows she has that effect on people, it was one of her greatest assets. And her most used weapon.

Served her greatly during her time in the war.

And now she had summoned a god like man here.

K’uk’ulkan was not the God K’uk’ulkan. He was named after him and had the usual origin story of a god, but apparently that does not make him a god.

Strange thing to learn.

��I am flattered, K’uk’ulkan, to know my meager looks were able to summon a man out of the depths of the ocean.” Eva offers him nuts and he offered her the bottle of Balché as a trade.

She had prepared with some Mayan delicacies and drinks, had she known she would be entertaining a man born some fifty years before the Spanish conquered Mexico, she would have had a traditional Mayan feast laid out.

She shouldn’t be drinking, Doctor Pereira said it was imperative that she avoid a relapse now that she’s sober.

Eva has been sober for the past six months, and yet she drinks straight from the bottle just like he did.

If she were feeling poetic, she’d say something about sharing a bottle being almost like kissing.

But the witch is still embarrassed about failing her own fucking ritual.

It wasn’t her fault, her mother was supposed to train her, but she was dead. Shot in the back by some cowardly American soldiers who panicked when mother's hands started glowing.

“What did you want Quetzalcoatl for?” he asks putting the glass bowl between them.

“To kill my enemies, hence the small feast and the clothes I am wearing. I’m not above bribery, just so you know.” She likes him. Therefore, something was deeply wrong with him.

Eva has a thing for cursed things, but he wasn’t cursed. She’d know if he were.

“You’d give yourself to a god to see a man dead?” he asks looking almost surprised.

“You see the man by the window?” she gestures slightly to the man dozing off by the hammock.

Eva had drugged him, she could have killed him, but she is not that desperate yet.

“What about him?” he asks intrigued.

“He just got orders to strangle me before the week is up.” Eva answered in a whisper. “His superiors decided that instead of giving me a fair trial, it is better if the world thinks I committed suicide.”

“Why don’t you kill him yourself?” he asks leaning closer to her.

“I will, but I need to cut off the head of the snake or they won’t stop sending people to kill me. He is the third or fourth person the president and his cronies have put in my household to do their dirty work.” Eva takes one last drink of the bottle promising herself it will be the last thing she drinks tonight. “Need Venustiano Carranza dead and unfortunately, I cannot do that myself. Even the assassins my family employs for these sorts of things have refused me.”

“I won’t kill him, surface-dweller.” He takes back Balché and drinks the rest of it.

“I think I preferred Chilan, Kukul,” she shortened his name and he bristled. Eva supposed he is not the type to like nicknames.

Plumed, feathered, she calls him and he is annoyed at how comfortable she finds herself with him.

He doesn’t scare her, takes more than that to do the trick now.

“My enemies call me Namor.” there is something about him that strikes her like lightning striking a tree.

Sparks that will burn a forest to ash, but what great fire it will be.

“Enemies don’t drink together while watching the ocean, so I will use the name your mother gave you.” She reminded him. Eva doesn’t care, she only has four days to live, if is offended than fuck him. “Besides if you meant to kill me, you would have used that thing you and your people do and have me walk into the water and never be seen again.”

She’s heard the tales, heard about sailors dying or survivors who could not do more than speak nonsense about blue skinned Mayan ghosts and their deadly siren song.

“It’s bad luck to kill a priestess, even a surface-dwelling one with the blood of those who hunted and enslaved our people.” He points out and wrinkles his nose as he mentions her mixed blood.

It makes sense that a god king would be racist, a shame it had to be this one.

“My great great grandfather liberated our country from Spain, my great grandmother descends from Moctezuma himself, my grandfather’s country was invaded like ours was and my father came from a nomadic tribe of people who aren’t exactly accepted everywhere.

They are white, but not like the white people you encountered.” She said defending her family from his cruel assumptions. “Besides, it doesn’t matter if my father was a white man, or that my mother had the blood of the last Mexica Emperor and the first President of Mexico, my family is all dead.”

“I am sorry for your loss, wàay.” He said offering her the last of the Balché.

Sorcerer, he calls her and yet it doesn’t sound insulting like surface-dweller does.

“Thanks.” And she feels a spark when their fingers brush against each other on the bottle. “But I shouldn’t be drinking, last time I drank I ended up trying to fling myself from a balcony in my melancholy.”

“I was a boy when I lost my mother and stepfather. I age slowly, you see. They died of old age by the time I turned twelve.” He intimates and both find common ground: grief.

“Hmm, you cursed with immortality, and I cursed with luck.” The witch reaches out for one of the crystal glasses with water on the table.

“I think we are the only two people who think of it that way.” K’uk’ulkan hides his pain well, but she can feel it still, makes her shiver even.

“No one else has lived the lives we have. How would they know how it feels to outlive everyone you love?” Eva pointed out as she brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them for warmth.

He was warm, but he got a little angry at her using the nickname his mother gave him and was prejudiced against people of mixed races, so she wouldn’t try leaning against him for warmth. He would feel nice, she thinks. His hands were warm when he helped her to her feet.

“To curses then.” He lifts the bottle in a toast and she clinks her glass with a quirk in her lips.

“May all who envy us never know how we suffer.” She said and both drank in silence.

#eva smith riley #kukulkan namor #eva x namor #namor x mexican!oc #eva smith shelby #ocappreciation #ocappreciationtag

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evita-shelby · 2 years ago

Text

Of Gods and Witches

Chapter 17

Gif by @unicornspwnall

Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @v3d3rl1cht @urgonnaneedabiggership

“They say yuum wants war with the surface.” Itotia is strangely quiet.

Her teenage daughter was brash and outspoken even in ways Eva had not been at her age.

Took after her husband in that, she thinks. That man was raised to believe himself a god and even age had not bothered touching some of his arrogance.

“The surface wants war with us, we are just ensuring we have allies.” Eva corrects.

Humanity was always greedy, when the Abrahamic God placed Adam and Eve in Eden they decided it was not enough and ate from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

Even gods were greedy.

“By kidnapping the Wakandan Princess and the American engineer?” Itotia asked thinking it was a stupid idea. “Did yuum even think before he acted so stupidly?”

“Totia, watch your words.” Her mother warned. “The Queen of Wakanda refused to work with us and now we have to force them into doing as we asked.”

“Why didn’t you do it, mamá? Even yuum knows you are better at talking.”

Because I am dying.

If she could bring herself to say it, Eva would and stop this headache from turning into a full-blown war.

Then she sees it, the Black Panther tearing K’uk’ulkan’s wings from his ankles in a deserted island.

They fight, Eva feels her throat as dry as his in his weakened state and feels his spear go through her abdomen as if she were both contenders.

Shuri will not die, instead her technology allows her to make herself equal to Namor.

Namor who for all his strength and experience, has never fought someone who could bring down gods even without the vibranium flower.

“Mama, Na’, wake up!” Itotia cries as she holds her mother who is gasping for air and water.

For a brief second, the glamour falls and the girl sees the truth only for the Witch Queen of Talokan to rise from the cenote as healthy and beautiful as she always looks.

“Is Na’ dying, yuum?” Itotia asks after her father joins her at the edge of the water.

She was the most like him, in temperament and appearance.

For all her strength and invulnerability, she is still the little girl who would come to him when she had nightmares.

Eva’s death would hurt her just as his mother’s death did centuries ago.

“She is ill, but she is not dying. The Wakandans will cure her as part of our alliance, ki’ichpan.” Ch’ah holds his eldest, his firstborn child whom he met and loved even before she was conceived.

“You kidnapped their princess; how will they help us now?” Itotia looks at him in earnest, anger in her dark eyes because they both know Eva’s life depends on Wakanda and in her mind, he’s killed her already.

“She demanded to come here, your mother foresaw it and I acted accordingly, Itotia.” He answered disliking how quickly his own heir has turned against him.

She had changed after the chasquido.

His little dancer questioned him at every turn, thinking herself grown even if she was denied five years of growth and remained sixteen while her friends and her ba’al had matured into adults.

Why didn’t you avenge us, father? Why didn’t you fight Thanos like the Avengers did?

Were you too much of a coward to leave the ocean?

Two years ago, he had been faced with the truth, he cannot pretend the troubles of the surface no longer stay there.

To protect his kingdom, he had to sit on his hands and let the surface-dwellers avenge their fallen and try to fix everything.

His own people were loyal, but even then they questioned why their god and king had not fought for them.

Coward.

His own child, the child he met in a vision and sired on his throne had said then and said it now with her eyes identical to his.

She stalks off in her anger and Ch’ah Toh Almehen goes to his wife.

“Give her time, in kuxtal.” His wife looks better than she had in days, and yet the shadow of death lingers on her like a fine cloak.

Namor has lived alone for centuries and K’uk’ulkan ruled by himself for just as long, but Ch’ah Toh Almehen does not think himself strong enough to be in a world without her.

“She is right, you know, had I faced Thanos then you would not have been gone for so long.” I was a coward, he meant to say, but he could not make himself speak it aloud.

He was no coward, even if he had fought the Titan, his people would have suffered.

“It was not your destiny, the time will come when you join them, but it wasn’t then.” She extends her hand to him and he takes it gently, kissing it with the love and devotion he only has for her.

Whatever she saw made her melancholy, worried enough to send for him in the middle of a meeting.

Eva’s commands were never ignored.

His people knew their lives depended on what she sees, when he heard her calling to him, he knew whatever she has seen is not good.

“What did you see?” he asks, coming close, taking her face in his hands, and seeing the truth written there before she can voice it.

“War, you against Shuri, Wakanda against Talokan. If you do not yield to her---” her voice breaks off as a tear slid down her cheek.

She had seen him die.

It would not happen, of course, the Lords of Xibalba took pity on her and gave her a chance to outwit them like the Hero Twins did.

“Ye of little faith.” He tries to assure her, Shuri of Wakanda was too young, too grief stricken and lacked the one thing her brother had: the vibranium that made him the Black Panther.

“The cure to my disease is the flower, she will make it and take it herself as well.” Eva shook her head. “She will be as strong as you and she will tear off your wings even after you drive your spear through her.

Promise me, Ch’ah, promise me you will yield.”

He cannot do that, Shuri is a child. Like the Surface dwellers like to say, the devil is wise by age not for being the devil. Five hundred years of fighting and training have made him unstoppable.

Eva with all her magic could not come close to him, what makes her think a fucking child younger than their youngest daughter would be able to defeat him?

“What makes you think she can kill me? I am as powerful as a god, in watan, even if she were as strong as me, she does not have the experience I have.” He argues, softly in hopes she doesn’t move away.

Eva stands her ground and steps away slightly, making sure he is aware how dire the situation is.

“Your arrogance will be the death of you, Namor.” She warns and he knows she means it.

He hates it when she calls him Namor, he makes exceptions from time to time, but he loathes it when she goes against him like this.

First, Itotia now her.

“Tell me why I should deny myself the chance to die in battle?” he will yield, of course, he is not an idiot and knows too many people depend on him to let himself die.

Besides, if being defeated by a mere child of twenty is a shame amongst them, then being killed by one would dishonor his bloodline forever.

“Because I cannot live in a world where you are dead, Ch’ah. Because you have three children who need you alive. Do you need more reasons, because I have them, in wíicham!” she answers with tears, not caring if anyone hears them.

“I know you do, wàay, I will yield to her.” K’uk’ulkan relents without a fight. After a century, the king of Talokan should know better than to argue against her.

Notes:

Yuum: father/dad

Na': mom

In kuxtal: my life

Chasquido: the snap (technically its Le Chasquido

Ba'al: boyfriend, male companion

Lords of Xibalba: twin rulers of the underworld/gods of death, Hun Came and Vucub Came who in the Popul Vuh were defeated by twins, Hunahpu and Xbalanque aka the Hero Twins

#of gods and witches fic #kukulkan my beloved #kukulkan x oc #namor x eva #namor x mexican!oc #eva x kukulkan

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