#talokan

[hydravns]

NAMOR, KING OF TALOKAN

BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER (2022) Dir. Ryan Coogler

[mariaxxxxx]

Dragon fruit ( Namor x fem!reader)

Summary: You beg K'uk'ulkan to give you a baby (+18)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, virgin!reader, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, good ending, somnophille, slight degradation, duvious consent, menstrual sex, pregnancy, arranged marriage, inexperienced reader, abortion commented, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words.

PART 2

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

You settled into your nightly beauty ritual to prepare for a night alone. Sitting on a small bench, You sighed in sadness as you looked at your untouchable marital bed. You felt like an idiot because you saw your husband throughout the day, but something inside you was feeling a little more needy than usual. Lacking the touches and kisses of the man with whom he shared his life for half a decade.

It was an agreement sealed without words, just with indecent gestures and touches; You were his good queen during the day and at night he devoured you like a thirsty beast. It was a perfect marriage, You would say; a passionate husband who gave her pleasure in and out of bed. But the idea that something was missing started to grow in your mind, you tried to know what was missing until, during a walk through the market, you discovered it. Your eyes lit up when you saw a young mother swimming with her baby tied to things and thought how she would like to have a baby of her own. After witnessing that simple scene, the idea of having a child timidly appeared in his mind and grew quickly, consuming all his neurons.

It started with a shy voice, deep in his head. A baby, the voice whispered in his mind. Have his babies, the voice hissed in his mind often. As a wife and queen You were expected to conceive a child one day, but such a conversation was never had between You and your husband. He never demanded a baby from her, but he never said he didn't want them.

You were moved by each completion of a lunar cycle where women went to the temple of Ixchel to thank for their blessings. You, as queen, were always present to thank the Goddess for your femininity and ask for good fruits in your marriage. Every time a young mother from Talokan swam to the feet of Ixchel with her baby in her arms and asked the Goddess for protection for her child, You imagined yourself with your own child on your lap thanking the Goddess for its life.

You haven't talked about this with your husband. God, no, you didn't want to stress him out even more. Her husband was so adamant after the peace agreement sealed between Talokan and Wakanda. The flame of war still burned in your pupils, so, following your role as wife and queen, You refused to bore him with your silly matters and decided to keep the thought and attempts to generate a life just for yourself.

However, the idea of keeping it a secret was increasingly becoming difficult to hide. You drooled every time you saw a gentle gesture between a mother and her son, you made love to your husband frequently demanding that he spill his semen inside You, you caressed your untouched stomach in front of the mirror imagining it swollen with K's seed. K'uk'ulkan, visited the temple of Ixchel placing baskets full of dragon fruit on its altar, took herbal infusion with dragon fruit seed to open her uterus and cried every time her menstruation arrived. Her husband was so busy that he didn't notice her lamentations about not having a baby in her womb.

K'uk'ulkan slides through the curtain with tired shoulders hunched, with generous drops of water sliding off him, he brushes his hair out of his eyes as he looks at You. For Ixchel he was so beautiful and irresistible that You had to press your fingers against his bench he was sitting on so as not to jump on it.

“You’re still awake, it’s late. You should sleep.”

You stand up with a smile. Your short nightgown, which barely covered your thighs, sways as you walk towards him.

“I'm fine, my love. I like waiting for my husband.” You say stopping in front of him.

“I have such a good wife.” He says cheekily as he presses a kiss to your blushing cheek.

He offers His armored wrists to You in a silent cry for help. You begin to remove each of your gold-plated vibranium accessories. You masterfully undid hooks and bonds, as you have done many times during your years at his side. When he was free of his ornaments he sealed her lips with his in a kiss of tenderness and passion.

“Come, lie down with me.” You tried to pull him onto the bed, but his firm hands kept you in place. “My love, is something wrong?”

"No." He said simply. “I’m just enjoying my queen’s beauty.”

Suddenly feeling shy, you looked away as your cheeks turned red.

“You shower me with praise, K'uk'ulkan.”

He nods and pulls you by your hips until you are pressed against his wet chest. He reaches out, cups her face and pulls her into a voracious kiss. A moan escapes his throat as he tastes her on his tongue. You bite his lips and pull the way he likes, your husband lets out a sound through his mouth and kisses you again like a thirsty man, savoring your mouth as if it were the tastiest candy.

You place your hands on his solid chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken at your touch. Gods, You will never tire of the effect you have on him. This made You greedy and malicious, but possessing power over a God-king provided You with absurd pleasure. He breaks the kiss leaving You a mess with your heavy breathing and swollen lips.

“I intend to shower you with more than praise, my queen.” He murmurs as he pushes her a little towards the bed. You fall sitting on the soft reeds covered in soft sheets and pillows. “Lie down and spread your legs for your husband.”

You obeyed, as you always did, laying your head on the soft pillows and spreading your legs. Your breath catches and you bite your lip when your king positions himself between your legs and observes your naked sex.

“What a good girl I have in my bed.” He says in a sigh as he watched your exposed pussy. "So beautiful..."

He hums as he positions his face in front of her pussy with every intention of devouring her. Hot breath penetrates through your thin skin, sending pleasurable spikes. You feel him place small kisses on your pelvis, making your legs tremble as your core vibrates in anticipation. His wet hands explore her body covered in the thin nightgown.

“K'uk'ulkan...” You whimper as he pinches your left nipple,

He ignores it as he tugs at your nightgown with an impatient growl. He rips it line by line until your body is completely exposed to him.

He moves off your pelvis and begins to place soft kisses on your exposed belly, making the wet spot between your legs grow absurdly. You knew he couldn't see his excitement, but his nose could smell the sweet smell that your pussy gave off. Your husband moves away from you, supporting himself on his elbows and looks directly into his face.

“My beautiful, beautiful queen.” He says while feeling one of her breasts with his hands. “They would look beautiful swollen with milk…” his hand leaves her breast and goes to her belly. “...You would be even more beautiful with my seed growing inside You.”

His words take you by surprise, taking you out of your little world of pleasure. Her breath hitches when her husband's smile becomes wider than normal.

“I... I...” You stammered and babbled like an idiot without knowing how to respond.

“I know the woman I love, my queen.” He began to caress her stomach as if something was growing there. “You think I didn’t understand your anguish and desire for a child. I know that it goes back to the time of Ixchel and offers dragon fruit and prayers so that she fills her womb with a child.”

"I am really sorry." You finally say. “I didn’t want to upset him. You're so stressed after the battle with Wakanda, I didn't want to fill your head with my empty desires.”

Her husband exclaimed a sound through his mouth and looked at you with disappointment.

“You wanting a child doesn’t upset me, my love.” He kissed her lips, walked away and spoke again: “What upsets me is my queen turning to another God to conceive a child.

"My love..."

He interrupts her with a simple look and speaks again.

“Pray that K'uk'ulkan will give you a baby.”

He returns to his starting position, with his head between your legs, he takes a single breath against your exposed pussy, his hair glistening with wetness, before diving in and latching onto your throbbing clit. Lewd sighs and moans escaped his lips as you ran your hands through his wet hair to pull him closer to your pussy. With impressive skill he sucks, licks and pinches his wetness.

The tension in your body increases as You fight to keep yourself sane, your arousal constantly dripping down and staining the sheets. He puts his hands on her thighs to keep them apart and devour her pussy. He ate You like a hungry man; licking her entrance, sucking her clit with his lips and brushing his beard against her skin. You cry out in surprise as you feel him bury his nose over your clit, the jade piercing brushing against your stimulated folds. He actively rubbed his face against your pussy, causing a large wave of excitement that made you shudder as you moved your hips seeking more contact.

Just as you were about to reach orgasm, he pulls away from your pussy, forming a stream of saliva from your mouth to your pussy. You open your mouth and let out an anguished gasp.

"No! Please." You whimper, your legs tremble as that peak of pleasure escapes you for a long time.

You tighten your fingers in his hair in frustration, demanding that he give you the release you desire, but he pulls away. He stands there with a cheeky look as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, spreading his lubrication across his cheek.

“You will orgasm on my cock, my love.” He sighs, his voice hoarse with desire, his pupils darkening and his cock hard. "Let's go! Cry for K'uk'ulkan to give you a baby.”

You spread your legs to welcome him, your wet pussy brushing against the fabric covering his hardening cock. You search for more contact and rub your soaked entrance against his green shorts until he pulls them down. You sigh as you come across such a glorious sight.

“K’uk’ulkan.” You whisper at the sight of his hard compliance eager to accomplish his goal. He rests his dark red head, which was leaking and twitching involuntarily, on her swollen and sensitive clit. You squinted your eyes, enjoying the friction caused by the movements of his hips.

“Come on, wife! Pray that K'uk'ulkan will give you a baby.”

“K’uk’ulkan...” You begin as he positions his member at your entrance. “I beg you to give me a son.” He pushes his fulfillment against the curve of your center, answering your prayer. A loud moan escapes your dry throat when, in a single thrust, he penetrates you.

"Continues." He orders as he pushes his length, sliding it in easily thanks to his touches and how demanding your pussy was to receive him.

You throw your head back as you feel him fully inside You. Your mind goes black as all You can feel is him thrusting hard inside You, pounding until You can feel his heavy balls rubbing against your pussy. You could only moan obscenely as you closed your eyes.

"Let's go! Ask... Ask K'uk'ulkan to give you a baby. Beg him to fill your empty womb with his seed.” He gasps as he felt You squirm beneath him.

“K'uk'ulkan, I offer you everything; fruits, devotion, wine. I only ask that you fill my womb with your seed.” You hiss as you pull him closer, your walls bulging around him. “I give you my heart, my spirit and my love.”

“Offer more.” Demands her husband while thrusting mercilessly.

“I will fill your altar with dragon fruit and I will kneel...” You let out a loud moan when his dick hits that ideal spot inside You. “...Give me a baby.”

"Yes." He says as he chatters his teeth upon hearing your delightful prayer. He kisses her fiercely, a mixture of teeth and lips, her husband pulls away with his addictive lips.

“Your cry has been heard.” He places one hand on her belly to keep her steady while he penetrates her pussy. “K'uk'ulkan will give you a baby.”

Your nails dig painfully into your husband's back and you scream when you feel his dick rub every sensitive spot inside you, causing absurd waves of pleasure that spread through every cell in your body. Your husband growls, aligns his hips up, and digs his member as deep as he can, speeding up his movements.

He thrusts into you with precision, kissing your lips to swallow your screams of pleasure that escape your throat. Excitement fills her thoughts as You allow her husband, this God, to lift her to heaven with his cock. He sets a brutal pace, slamming his cock into her sensitive pussy. His breasts bounce painfully with each thrust of his hips.

"Take it." He growls the word, opening his teeth like an animal. “Take my seed, wife. Carry my children.”

He holds your hips with his fingers and squeezes them until his finger marks remain. You don't care, the pleasure he gave you left you oblivious to anything. He ejaculates inside You, shuddering as your walls accompany him in a sublime climax. With each generous jet of cum into his womb, you whimper with relief as you finally feel satisfied and full. He places soft kisses on your cheeks and lips.

You feel him soften in your pussy, he finally pulls out, releasing his fluids onto the sheets. He immediately shoves two fingers into her sensitive entrance pushing his cum back inside.

“Don’t waste anything.” He says, admiring the results of the desire between his fingers.

“Let me get up.” You say as you sit up in bed, or try to, your legs are shaking and your lungs are panting. “I must place a basket of dragon fruit on K'uk'ulkan's altar and kneel at his feet.”

“No need to bother, my love.” He says with his fingers still inside You. “He has his tasty dragon fruit right here. Ready to be devoured again and again and again.” He sticks a third finger inside You while using his other hand to touch your sensitive and aching clit. “I’m going to fuck you until you’re pregnant.”

You scream his name in a prayer of pleasure as his fingers begin to stimulate your clit and his fingers inside you stimulate the spongy flesh in your pussy.

[butternuggets-blog]

I hope that somewhere there's a universe where Charles and Erik worked through everything and built Genosha, keeping it a secret from the rest of the world by pretending to be a closed-borders socialist country.

And they forge alliances with Wakanda and Talokan, because both neutral nations have mutants among their people and know how to keep secrets.

[theattoyearchive]

Its about that time again! Are you ready for Attoye Week 2024?!

We are happy to announce that the themes and dates for this year week will be coming soon! Come celebrate Attuma and Okoye with us this summer!

[oyabuncongress]

Madelane De Jesus 🇩🇴

[billykcplan]

MCU PHASE FOUR | LOCATIONS ↪  (2021 - 2022)

[sersi]

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022) dir. Ryan Coogler

[the-haunted-star]

The Art of Wakanda Forever book

Selected pages for your viewing pleasure. ✌🏽

[gizzzellez]

*cries in niño sin alitas*

A stupid meme for a stupid thought i had while watching WF on Disney

Btw, I dont hate spanish (im mexican lol), but i find really funny that he does.

[dontruinmymorning]

We need to discuss the way Alex talks about Danai. He always sounds so in awe of her. He’s like fanon Attuma come to life. I’m so glad Danai got him as her “dance partner”.

[hydravns]

ATTUMA in BLACK PANTHER: Wakanda Forever (2022) Dir. Ryan Coogler

[mariaxxxxx]

Gods fall sometimes (+18)

Summary: Summary: K'uk'ulkan for You to give him a baby (+18)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, good ending, slight degradation, pregnancy, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words

A/N: A sequel, or not, to Dragon Fruit. I feel like the reader and K'uk'ulkan have a lot to tell about the baby.

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

PART 1

You woke up at your usual time in the morning. A young maid came to the hammock and gently woke him up. Rested, you sat in the hammock, watching the cabin. It was already daytime, you assumed the sun wasn't present in that cave meters below the sea. So, the room was cold, indicating the presence of salt water around the stones. You stretched, passing your hand over the hammock, something you had become accustomed to doing.

He wasn't there, in fact, he never was. Her husband always slept next to her, but they never woke up together. K'uk'ulkan always woke up early and left the room, leaving her alone to rest. A habitation that You were already accustomed to. Even though, after years of marriage, he was still in the hammock while You woke up, it didn't take long, and he soon returned to Talokan.

You understood. I couldn't stay mad at him. Her husband had ruled for centuries alone, and taciturn habits were hard to shake. Although her days were lonely, her husband made the nights warm. Attempts to make a baby were fun, but fruitless so far. You thought you conceived a baby the day your husband made you pray for him, but the Gods gave you no such gift. The red spot between his legs the following month was enough to make him give up trying.

The Gods, not even K'uk'ulkan, were willing to make you a mother. If not even the divine was able to make you conceive, you thought that an infusion with dragon seeds wouldn't do it either, so you chose to leave it aside. You hadn't talked to your husband about giving up on him, you just continued to let him devour you during the night and cum while he whispered in your ear how beautiful you would look pregnant.

You shook your head to get the bad thoughts out of your mind. He got up from the hammock, noticing for the first time, a box on a small table. A box wrapped in jade green paper. Feeling attracted to that object, and as she approached, she captured a small paper containing the drawing of a celestial goddess generating life in her womb. A faint smile formed on her lips as she noticed her husband's enthusiasm in conceiving a child.

You ripped open the wrapping and opened the wooden box, taking out what appeared to be hair ornaments shaped like your crossed serpents encrusted in gold and jade stone. You smiled a sincere and charming smile. You loved getting jewelry and your husband knew it

“Beautiful, my queen.” Exclaimed the young maid. You hadn't noticed that she was still in the room. “Like the serpents in the hair that adorn the goddess Ixchel.”

“Oh.” You exclaimed in surprise. Only then did he realize that they really resembled the snakes in the hair of the statue of the Goddess Ixchel.

You underestimated your husband, as you always had, he knew you like the back of his hand. It was a not-so-subtle warning that he would continue to try to get her pregnant. He saw her as the goddess of love and the moon herself, this only revealed her adoration before You. Her hands felt for her hair ornament while her mind thought about how You could put an end to her anguish. Then an idea popped into his mind; an idea that could please or upset the gods. It will be her last attempt at conception, if it doesn't work, you will accept that the Gods were not willing to give you the gift of pregnancy. Determined, you turned to the young handmaid and said:

“Cancel all my commitments as queen. Then help me with something

(….)

You were on your knees in the soft reeds waiting for him. As K'uk'ulkan slipped through the curtain, wet from head to toe and richly adorned in gold, he froze at the sight of her figure sitting on her knees in the reeds. With the outfit, or almost none of it, more erotic than he had ever seen. He left him speechless and his cock hardened just by the sight. You looked like the Goddess of the moon herself. With her breasts uncovered, a huge black pearl necklace around her neck, a thin transparent petticoat that covered her intimacy, her perfectly styled hair held back by the hair ornament received in the morning.

 K'uk'ulkan didn't say a word or make a sound, like he could have. He just allowed himself to enjoy the most beautiful sight. It was You who dared to break the silence.

“My devotee.” You exclaimed in a low voice. “Tell me what You want.”

K'uk'ulkan laughs, realizing his joke and approving the idea. Would it be a challenge? Yes. He would do everything to please the young God who lived in his bed. For You, K'uk'ulkan would bend the knee.

“Ah, my beautiful goddess.” He murmurs, approaching the reed. He placed his knees on the soft padding, getting close to You. “Can I eat You, my Goddess? Put my seed in your blessed body?”

You lick your lips, push your knees up until your lips are close to his.

"Perhaps." You whisper. “Show me how much you want this. Show me how much you want me.”

Before you can react, he reaches out to tilt his cheek and presses his mouth against yours to begin a familiar dance between tongues. You kissed those lips several times, infinite times and it would never be enough. No amount of touching would be enough to satiate her love for this man.

You move away a little to breathe, resting your forehead against his and stroking his nose affectionately.

“Last time, my love.” You say. “If tonight we don’t conceive, know that it will be the last time we try.”

“Don’t say that” he says with a slight tone of sadness in his voice. “We will try as many times as necessary until my seed takes root in your womb.”

You wanted to argue and say how much the failed attempts destroyed you inside. She wanted to tell of the times she cried in secret during each new cycle of the new moon without a child in her arms to thank the goddess. But you didn't say it, you just withdrew that feeling to the bottom of your heart and kissed him again.

This time the kiss became more urgent as a silent promise of comfort and burning desire. He wraps his arms around your waist, until you're sitting on his lap. You snuggle onto his hardened cock, moving your hips just the way he liked it. K'uk'ulkan's desire rose like the rising tide before the full moon.

"Part." You murmur into his kiss. “Ask me. Offer me everything.”

"Yes." He says over moans. “My beautiful goddess. I guarantee that my offering will be satisfactory.”

"Hmm." You lick his lips.

Your husband takes a deep breath as his fingers curl around your hips propelling your movements, his lips pursed awaiting more of your kisses. You put your hands on his chest and push him so he lays down on the soft pillows. It was his turn to be in charge. He tries to get up to pull you to yes, but you push him away again, remaining firmly seated on his covered cock.

You lean in and start placing small kisses on his lips, which go down to his chin and neck. Before you know it, he distributes kisses and nibbles over his toned chest. With an expert touch, you pull the fabric of the shorts down. Her mouth salivates and her pussy tightens at the sight of his hardened cock.

“Oh, is this my offering?” You question, your voice full of desire. “I’m not sure it will be enough to satisfy me.”

You notice your husband's fingers gripping the sheets tightly as you wrap your hand around his cock and massage the damp head with your thumb.

“I guarantee that will be more than enough, my goddess.” He grits his teeth as he groans when You squeeze his dick tightly, just the way he liked it.

“I will taste my offering then.”

Sue husband sighs loudly as her fingers curl around him and her lips close over the weeping purple head. Even with little provocation, her pussy fills with excitement at having the salty taste of his seed on her tongue again. You start by kissing the tip, brushing your lips, then continue to tease him with brief sucks and nibbles, listening to your husband's cry for more contact.

"Do not tease me." He orders through his teeth.

"Silence." You exclaim. “I need to check if this offering is up to me.”

K'uk'ulkan rolls his eyes and moans loudly when You take him almost entirely down his throat. His mouth works well, extracting every drop of your salty essence. Her husband Sue pushes her hips up trying to make her swallow more, alternating between provocative sucks and playful licks on the sensitive skin. You keep him in a state of pure pleasure and he growls loudly at the audacity provoked. You were the only mortal who could have a god like him, so weak in the knees, panting like a whore. Her mouth opens wider, pushing herself beyond the limits of paradise, as if she wants to ascend to the divine status her husband has placed her in. You completely swallow it deeper into your throat. Even as his eyes water from the task, you lower yourself onto his cock until your own nose brushes the black hairs of his crotch and his purple head reaches the back of your throat. Your husband gasps as he feels the outline of his cock in his throat, a sight that makes him almost tear the sheets.

"My Goddess." He murmurs between moans and sighs. “Let me spill my seed inside You.”

You take it out of your mouth but wrap your hand around it to continue massaging. Making the provocation even more torturous.

“My worshiper” You tease with a quick movement of your hands, “What do you offer before me?”

"All. I offer everything. My body, my spirit, my nation. Just let me spill my seed into your pussy so that life will be nourished.”

You line yourself up, with your knees around him, to straddle him. Your hand guides the stiff, weeping cock into your wet pussy. You moan loudly as you feel him enter all the way in, your walls welcoming him with sacred heat and divine adoration. Now, no teasing or games. It was time to conceive the much-desired baby.

His cock sinks deep inside her pussy caressing every sensitive spot on her walls. Your hips gain momentum to ride him; rolling and jumping to extract all the lust.

"How many?" You question breathlessly without missing a beat. “How many babies do you want, devotee? Tell me and I will give them.”

“One, two, three...all of them, my goddess. Give me them all”

Your belly contracted with an indication of the approaching orgasm, but You refused to finish before it, as tonight would squeeze out every drop of your seed. K'uk'ulkan lifted his hips to meet his thrust, making it even harder to keep the ecstasy away. Her husband seemed not too far away from his own orgasm, to bring him even further to the brink of pleasure. You made circular movements with your hips as you bounced on his dick.

“Spill your seed!” You demand with the tides of your own release rising within your body, “I'm close, so close…”

Your pussy clenches around him, sobbing his name as you reach your orgasm. The rhythmic spasms of your walls dragging you to the edge along with it. K'uk'ulkan moans with his head against the pillow, his hips stutter briefly, but he continues to pump his seed deep inside her pussy. He holds her hips to keep her trapped and only lets go when all his cum has been emptied. You held in place feeling his penis soften inside You. His breathing was still labored, his head was spinning and his ears were ringing with the powerful orgasm given to You by the divine.

You got off of him, leaving his softened penis lying on his left side. She lay down next to him enjoying the little world of pleasure that surrounded them.

“Tonight, my love.” Her husband said, breaking the silence. “Tonight we will conceive a child.”

And he was right. It was that night that the first baby was conceived. Two months after that night the symptoms started; the swollen breasts, the nausea, the sleep. An old woman confirmed her pregnancy when You came to her to report about the illnesses. When You told him K'uk'ulkan spun her in his arms as she rejoiced promises of love and joy at having a fruit growing in her womb.

For a long nine months you were pampered and fawned over by your husband. No request, no matter how ridiculous, was too small or difficult for her devoted husband. When her belly and breasts became swollen, K'uk'ulkan massaged her body with scented oils for hours, tending to each aching muscle. And when the baby was finally born with its big cheeks and webbed ankles, such devotion also extended to the conceived child. It was no secret how deep K'uk'ulkan's love was for his wife and child.

[livstarlight]

Guys look at me, I don’t care what y'all are doing I wanna see Wakanda Forever TRENDING, we finally have it and we are not gonna shut up about it, I'm gonna need you to step the fuck up and be insufferable because that's what this movie deserves

[namor-shuri]

First Vacation Together { Summer ‘23 } Polaroids

You want to feel something strange and new. Girl I feel something different when I’m with you.

[livinalligifs]

Alex Livinalli aka Attuma - Black Panther: Wakanda Forever Blooper Reel

[acciopietro]

doctor pt. 4

pairing: namor x fem! reader

summary: after taking some time to yourself, you allow yourself to understand.

word count: 6,349

tw: mention of death/murder, mention of wounds and blood. 

a/n: thanks for hanging in there and being patient with me, everyone. you’re all so so appreciated!!! here’s the final part :)

WEEKS CAME AND WEEKS WENT in Miami until about two months pass. You got up everyone morning, hopped on the train to work, worked until six or seven, took the train home, went to bed. Maybe you’d sprinkle in a work out or a lunch with a friend here and there, but nothing much changed. You hadn’t really spoken to your sister. And the team, well... there was no team, anymore. It was you and Dr. Mishra and Juliette, the secretary. The office was empty. Their empty chairs and cold coffee cups stared at you until you clocked out.

Every night before bed, without fail, you thought about Namor. That look on his face when he was just about ready to kill you. Then the look on his face when he had dropped to his knees, pleading for forgiveness. And then seeing Reynolds and Bernstein fall overboard. You’d squeeze your eyes shut and try and shut it all out until you’d eventually fall back asleep. Despite this, that jade-beaded bracelet never left your wrist.

You woke up in a sweat, your face pale from the horrors your mind had conjured and your skin cold and clammy from your thrashing and shivering. The trauma from the boat seemed to have followed you home to Miami. 

The cuts had healed, the bruises, too, but the memories had not left. It was difficult to have Namor plaguing both your thoughts and your nightmares at the same time. There was a dissonance in your head, where in the day you’d dream of running back to that beach in Yucatán, and in the night you’d suffer the sight of him and his soldiers about to kill you. 

You reached over towards your bedside table, picking up your phone and rolling over onto your side. There was a recent notification, it’s icon glowing green, that read Voicemail from Juliette. You let out a hmph and clicked it, pressing the speaker button so as to hear better.

“Hey Y/N, hope you’re doin’ okay,” came that sweet, swingy voice of your favorite secretary. “You’re insanely strong for still comin’ into work even after... well, after what happened. I’m calling to tell you to take a week off, all right? There ain’t no team for you to work with, but me and Mishra can hold down the fort for a bit, okay? You rest, visit your sister or something. You’re exerting yourself. Also, I’ve emailed you the number of my therapist. She’s great. Don’t be afraid to give me a call if you need anything, all right? I’ll see you in a week, okay? Don’t come to the office! Bye-bye.”

You huffed to yourself in frustration, slamming your phone down on the bed beside you. Visiting your sister sounded like a great idea, with the exception of being at such close proximity to Namor and his people. There would be no way to avoid the water of course, between your sister and her frequent strolls on the sand and your niece and her addiction to surfing.

Either way, you booked a flight for the next day. The entire flight down to Yucatán you wrestled with yourself, with your morality. Namor had killed people. Probably more in all his years of living, more than what you had witnessed. To forgive him was so forget those he had killed, even if they were horrible people like Bernstein or Reynolds. 

But there was something about him that was magnetic. His brain, his loyalty, his pride of where in which he came. The regard to which he held his people, the passion to which he protected them. The way that he spoke, the eloquence of him, the complexity of his thoughts. He was cruel. He was beautiful. 

“Oh god, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” were your sister’s first words upon meeting you at the airport. You lugged your backpack off the plane, offering a weak but genuine smile at the sight of her face and sound of her voice. She hugged you tight, taking your bag from you. Touching a hand to your cheek, turning your face to examine you like your grandmother would, she remarked, “You’re pale as hell. What’d you do, kill somebody?”

You gave a weak chuckle. “I need a coffee.”

“You need more than just a coffee,” she said. “Let’s get you home. And get you a drink.”

The drive to your sister’s house from the airport was pleasant enough, the delicate voice of Lana Del Rey playing from her stereo and the soft morning light shining through the windows of the car. You stared at the horizon, just barely being able to see the blue ocean from where you were. You clenched your jaw and willed yourself to look away.

---

YOUR SISTER DECIDED IT WAS time for you to leave the house. She had dragged you out of bed to put on some nice clothes and then proceeded to pull you by the ear until you reached a local bar. Her husband was watching your niece, leaving the pair of you to your own devices for the night. You sat at the bar next to her, your classic Moscow Mule in your hand, zoning out to the unrecognizable music playing over the speakers. 

“Noticia de última hora (Breaking news),” spoke the lady on the news, her formal dress on the small, pixelated television standing out from the high technicolor of the club. “La reina de Wakanda ha sido reportada muerta (The queen of Wakanda has been reported dead).”

Your head snapped up, eyes now glued to the television. Your sister was blissfully unaware, chit-chatting with the barista, who just so happened to be the mother of one of your niece’s girlfriends. 

“La cause de la muerte: desconocido (The cause of death: unknown),” the reported continued. You took a large sip of your drink. “Princesa, ahora reina, Shuri aún no ha emitido una declaración. Esperamos ser informados sobre la situación pronto (Princess, now Queen, Shuri has yet to publish a statement. We hope to be informed about the situation soon).”

“That guy keeps looking at you,” your sister suddenly remarked, speaking loudly over the music. You flinched, ripping your eyes away from the television.

“Sorry?”

“That guy,” she lowered her voice and gestured with her chin to the man down the bar. “He’s been checking you out, tryna catch your eye.”

You glanced over to your right; sure enough, there was a man sitting five or six stools down from you, who, at the sight of you turning your head, quickly retracted his gaze. 

You eyed him. Based on the sight of him, you estimated he was maybe six foot tall. He had dusty brown curls, with equally as bushy brows and a roman nose. Cute, you thought. 

“You should talk to him,” your sister nudged your should. You sighed. You’d feel bad talking too much to this guy when your mind was still occupied on Namor. “C’mon, he keeps looking.”

“I dunno,” you ran a hand across your scalp. “We’ll see.”

“C’monnnn,” your sister dragged out. She picked up her drink and stood up. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. I’m hoping you’ll be talking to him by the time I get back...”

And with that, she stood up and walked off, disappearing into the crowd. You rolled your eyes. Leave it to your sister to misinterpret your feelings and do something she thought would be good for you but might actually be horrible. You swirled your drink around, watching the vodka splashing against the sides of the class. She had good intentions, your sister, but you didn’t particularly feel like being alone with some--

“Hola,” came a soft-spoken voice from your right. You turned your head; it was the guy from down the bar, his eyes bright and his smile gentle. You blinked. “Uh... anyone sitting here?”

He gestured with his drink to the empty seat beside you. You shook your head no, bringing your cup to your lips to sip it as he sat down beside you. His voice held a slight accent, his voice wavering as if he were unsure whether or not to be speaking English to you as opposed to the Spanish that filled the club.

He twiddled his fingers on the glass of his drink, the condensation of what looked to be a rum and coke wetting his palms. He wiped his hands on a napkin and glanced at you.

“You’re not from here, right? I haven’t seen you,” he spoke, his voice deep and smooth like molasses. There was a charm to him, you had to admit.

“You’d be right,” you told him. “My sister lives here. I’m just visiting from Florida.”

“Ah,” he nodded his head. “My cousin lives in Key West.”

“Bit far from me. I’m from Miami,” you chuckled. His eyes widened. “Three hours from there.”

“Pedro,” he extended a hand. You took it, shaking it gingerly. Pedro smiled. 

“Y/N.”

“Was that your sister, who you were just with?”

You nodded your head. “Yeah, she’s just running to the bathroom.”

“I know her,” he gave you a sheepish look. “I teach at the local elementary school. Her daughter’s in my class.”

It was your turn to have wide eyes and a smile. “No way! That’s amazing!”

“She’s a great student,” Pedro told you. “I feel like I can remember her mentioning her Tía once or twice...”

Your sister never quite came back from the bathroom. She shot you a text asking if it was all right for her to go right home, and you told her to do whatever she wanted. You continued to speak with Pedro, the conversation eventually straying from the topic of your niece and onto your work, and eventually onto your recent experience on the mining ship. Apparently, word had gotten out about you being one of the lone survivors.

Pedro offered to go for a walk on the beach to talk some more. Hesitant at first due to the water, you eventually agreed. It wasn’t like Namor was going to pop out of the water and reveal himself to you when someone else was with you. You exited the bar with Pedro after he oh-so-kindly paid for your drink, and with your sandals eventually coming off your feet and into your hands, your stride found the sand.

“That must have been pretty taxing, huh?” Pedro remarked when you told him the tale, leaving out the important detail of Namor and Talokan’s existence. “I can’t imagine going through that. You’re crazy strong.”

“All in a days work, I guess,” you shrugged, dragging your feet through the sand. You stopped, glancing off at the horizon, seeing the occasional tale of a dolphin in the far distance.

“Well, I feel bad for keeping you out too late,” Pedro checked his watch, shuffling in place a bit. “You’re a busy woman, I assume.”

“I am,” you smiled at him. “But it’s okay. Need a break every once in a while, y’know?”

“Damn straight,” Pedro nodded his head, running a hand through his dusty brown hair and glancing off at the horizon. He was standing pretty close to you, you noticed, and you weren’t sure whether or not to step back or not. “It was really great to meet you, Y/N.”

“You as well,” you told him honestly. You could sense him leaning towards you. “You’re a great listener.”

“You’re a great-- erm-- talker,” he said bashfully, covering his eyes for a second after saying that. “That was stupid, sorry.”

“It’s all right,” you chuckled. He laughed as well, his eyes glancing from eye to eye, and then to your lips for a prolonged moment, and then back to your eyes.

You couldn’t tell what you wanted, but even as he loomed closer and closer you figured you had less time to decide. By the time he was barely an inch from you, you figured you’d throw caution to the wind and go with it.

He pressed his lips onto your very gently, like he was nervous to do so, and while it was a great kiss, you almost flinched when you closed your eyes and only saw Namor. His great big ebony eyes, the feeling of the curve of his jaw on your palm, the aquiline slope of his nose. You felt your stomach turn, and you pulled away from him.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately said. Pedro’s eyes furrowed a bit, but he said nothing. “I... you’re really, really sweet, and... a great kisser...”

His lips twitched up in amusement.

“But I’m just not in a good place for this,” you told him honestly. “My last...erm... relationship ended on a weird note, and... I’m just not in the right place to be with anyone else. I didn’t mean to lead you on like this. I thought I’d be ready, but I... I’m really not. I’m sorry.”

“I get it,” Pedro gave a kind smile. “Thanks for being honest with me, at least. Weird note, huh?”

You breathed a chuckle. “Yeah. Super weird, super complicated.”

“I understand,” Pedro nodded his head. He reached into his pocket, grabbing a crumpled receipt from the bar and a small pen. He scribbled something down. “Look, I’m not telling you I’m gonna wait, but... if in a few weeks or so, you feel like you could be up to something, call me. If not, then it was just great to talk to you tonight.”

“You’re so nice,” you said sadly. “I’m sorry. I feel really bad.”

“Don’t,” Pedro insisted, handing you the receipt with his number on it. “Really. Take care of yourself, okay? You need a ride home?”

“No, that’s all right,” you shook your head. “I’m down that way. I’ll walk.”

“All right,” he smiled. “I’ll see you around, okay? I’ll tell your niece I met her legendary Tía.”

Pedro left, the only sign of his presence being the size-ten footprints painting the trail to where he went off to, and the lingering feeling of his lips on yours. You wiped at your mouth, feeling guilty, and squeezed your eyes shut momentarily. You needed to think.

The waves crashed behind you as you walked up to the waters edge, your bare feet pressed into the damp sand. The water didn’t quite run over your toes, rather it teetered right in front of them like it was nervous to touch you. You sighed, strolling along it down the beach towards the rocks, dragging your feet in the sand. Each step you took, the water didn’t touch you; it kept creeping next to your steps, hesitant, apprehensive.

You paused at some point, shifting your gaze onto where the water waited in front of you. Lips curving down, you sat down on the sand, your knees pressed together, and put your hands over your face. You didn’t think you would cry, but when you pulled your hands off, your palms were wet with salty tears. So were your cheeks.

Wiping at your face, the beads of your jade bracelet brushed against your jawline. You stared down at it, the beautiful weave-work, the intricate design on each jade bead. Fiddling with it, you stared off at the dark horizon, the moon’s pale light reflecting off of the sea as you felt more tears run down your face.

What was there to do? Each choice felt wrong; to call him, to forgive him for all he’s done and let him embrace you made you feel guilty. Hugging and kissing the man responsible for too many deaths to count. But leaving-- abandoning him, would crush you too much. It was all too much.

“Oh, hell,” you muttered under your breath, shimmying the jade bracelet off of your wrist and holding it up in front of you. Pursing your lips to choke back any more tears, you wiped at your face before drawing your arm as far back as it could go before launching the bracelet into the ocean. 

It soared through the night sky, going surprisingly further than you had imagined, and as you watched it plummet towards the water, your heart clench. What had you done? That had been Namor’s mothers! You shot up to your feet, but before the bracelet had disappeared into the blue, a hand shot up out of the water. You froze. 

The golden cuff on the hands wrist glimmered under the moonlight, the jade bracelet trapped under the strong fingers. Slowly, an arm followed the hand, followed by a head right next to it. Namor rose out of the sea, water rolling down his shoulders and chest, his brown hair turned black by the water dripping over his forehead. 

Unlike usual, he wasn’t wearing his typically adornments; his neckline was void of the golden chest plate, and aside from the small golden cuffs on his wrists, all he wore was the green shorts he always wore. It was like he had suddenly gotten out of bed and fled to the surface without getting dressed. 

You stared at him as he waded through the water towards you, the bracelet still in his hand. His face was downcast, bags under his ebony eyes and a frown on his lips. He walked up until he was right in front of you, your feet on the dry sand and his in the water.

Opening up his palm and staring down at the bracelet that laid there, he sighed and said, “Doctor, I hope you didn’t mean to do that.”

“I didn’t,” you said quietly, so soft he almost didn’t hear you. “Well, I did, but... I didn’t. I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Namor told you carefully, his voice steady. You blinked at him, frowning, unsure what to say. He stared at the bracelet for a moment, before holding a free hand out to grab your wrist. His eyes shifted up to you for consent to touch you.

You lifted your hand out, and his calloused hands grabbed onto your wrist to slip the bracelet back over your wrist. You got deja vu to the night you first left him, when he gave you the bracelet in the first place. His hands never left your wrist then, and they didn’t now, simply holding onto it.

“Who... who were you with, just now?” he asked in an attempt to be subtle but failing miserably. You couldn’t help but smile a little. You shook your head.

“No one,” you told him honestly, not meeting his eyes.

“You kissed,” he muttered. You narrowed your eyes.

“So you’ve been watching me?”

Namor rolled his eyes, shaking his head and not meeting your eyes but never verbally denying your statement. His fingers fiddling with the string of the bracelet, not daring to look at your face. The brown-black hair on his head had begun to dry, swooping delicately above his brows.

You glanced down to his cheek, your own brows twitching in confusion. Three long cuts drew down the length of his right cheek. A scar had formed overtop of them, and they looked like they had been cleaned up and stitched real nice, but they were so red that you were sure they still hurt. You lifted a hand, as if to touch his face to examine them, but you dropped your head and leaned back, catching yourself in the act. 

“What... what happened?” you asked him, staring at the cuts. He lowered his head, bringing the pads of his fingers up to graze over the three scratches. Namor said nothing, just bringing his eyes back up to meet yours, ebony irises trailing across yours. You forced yourself to break the eye contact and look at the cuts again; it was like they were claw marks. “Can you tell me?”

Namor opened his mouth, about to speak, but closed his lips and swallowed his words. You narrowed your brows at him. 

“What did you--”

“Come with me,” he extended his hand suddenly. You blinked, glancing down at it.

“Sorry?”

“Please come with me,” he rephrased. You stared at his hand, at his calloused fingers and bronze skin. “I would like to show you something.”

“Tell me what happened first,” you took a step away from him, eyeing him carefully. He sighed, and in his silence, you glanced down to the wings at his feet only to see that on his left ankle, only one wing remained. In the place of where the other one once was a bright red cut that had been poorly stitched. His entire ankle was bruised. “Oh my gosh, your... your...”

“Talokan went to war,” Namor said bitterly. “Against Wakanda.”

You breathed a curse, only biting at the inside of your cheek. Your mind wandered back to the news report about Queen Ramonda’s death. You met his eyes and gave him a look, your heart sinking.

“You... you didn’t...?” you gulped, staring at him. His brows twitched upwards, his lips curving into a frown. “You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.”

“I had to,” he shook his head. “It was my people that were on the line.”

“You didn’t have to do anything,” you pointed a finger at him. “She had a daughter. You killed her mother. Can you even imagine what she’s going through?”

“I can,” Namor told you firmly, stepping forward. “And I have.”

You said nothing, just frowning at him. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, gathering himself, before he looked back down at you.

“And that is why I need to show you this,” he put out his hand for you to grab again. “I need you to see where I am coming from.”

“Where are you taking me?” you glanced at his hand, meeting his eyes for a moment before sighing and taking it. You hand folded into his, your heart twisting at his touch.

“Talokan.”

---

THE JOURNEY INTO THE DEPTHS of the ocean was like nothing you had seen before. Namor had taken something out of his pocket, one of those devices you saw his soldiers wearing over their mouth and noses. You had barely held onto your consciousness as he swam you down there, and it wasn’t until you reached some kind of half-above half-below water area that you felt fully awake.

“Much ch'aik u ba'al u nook' síis yéetel jump'éel tin taasaj (Please grab her some fresh clothes and a suit),” you heard Namor speak. Your eyes fluttered open, and he had taken the device off of your nose and mouth. Your head was in his lap, you realized. “Níib óolal (Thank you).”

You blinked a few times to wake yourself up; glancing about you, you saw the color of the blue water reflecting off of the white stalactites and stalagmites around the cave, making everything appear to be shades of blue. You groaned, your head pounding as you tried to sit yourself up. Namor’s head snapped down to you.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said, steadying you and helping you as you sat up. He had a small smile on his face as you glanced around, feeling discombobulated. He glanced over to his right, where a woman with blue skin stood. “Wa pudieras Mach ti' ba'al u jantej... jump'íit ja'...(If you could grab her something to eat... some water...).”

The woman immediately disappeared into some other room behind her. You blinked at Namor after watching the woman walk away. Clearing your throat, you croaked, “Is this Talokan?”

Namor chuckled. “No. This is a half-way point, so to speak. I have to get you in a suit. And out of these wet clothes.”

He lifted up your soaking wet sleeve before lifting his head and glancing elsewhere. You glanced down at yourself, realizing that your white shirt was soaking wet and entirely see-through. You felt your face get hot as you wrapped your arms around yourself, but you felt less uncomfortable then you would’ve though; Namor was purposefully not looking, his ears slightly red, glancing over at where the woman had disappeared. You saw the wings on his ankles flutter.

“Waye', K’uk’ulkan (Here, K’uk’ulkan),” in came another woman, carrying what looked like some kind of dress, as well as one of those little devices to go over your nose and mouth. Namor gave the woman a nod of his head in thanks, and, helping up to your feet, took the dress from her to hand to you.

“You may change into this,” he told you. You took it from you, the linen and cloth soft against your cold skin. You blinked at him. He blinked back.

“Not here,” you told him pointedly. “Where can I...?”

His lips curled up and he chuckled before pointing to a small room behind you. You went in and changed, stripping the wet clothes and shivering before you draped the dress over you.

It warmed you up quick, but without a mirror you had no way of telling if it was on the right way, so you assumed it would be fine. You emerged from the small room, and Namor smiled at the sight of you. 

“Suits you,” was all he said, biting the inside of his cheek as if to stop himself from smiling to wide at the sight of you in Talokan’s dress. “Let’s get you into a suit, then.”

“What for?” you asked, following him as the pair of you ventured further into the cave. “I thought I could just wear that thing over my face.”

“Oh, no,” Namor shook his head. “You are human. The pressure of the ocean would crush every bone in your body. Even my considerable strength couldn’t save you from it.”

“You know,” you gulped. “You’re not really selling this underwater-city thing.”

“The suit will keep you safe,” he reassured you with a joking smile, opening up a rather large closet and pulling out a type of diving-suit. “Step in.”

The suit felt bulky and uncomfortable, but you were the knowledge that it would keep you safe so deep in the water had pacified your anxieties. Practically waddling behind him, the pair of you dove into the water, and he lead you to a stream of rushing water.

“In you go,” he said, nudging you so you were in it. Without warning, the water pushed you at top speed into the depths. You yelped, but glancing behind you and seeing him laugh at you made you a little less worried. It was still equally as terrifying. 

The deep ocean was darker than you thought it would be, and at some point you couldn’t even see your hands in front of you. It wasn’t until the stream fell off that you realized there was a light coming from your suit, helping you see. Namor came to your side and guided you further across the sand.

A giant whale bellowed above you, making you flinch and jump inside the suit. Namor laughed at you as it swam by, waving to the three Talokanil that were holding into its fins. Your jaw was permanently agape, and Namor took you by the arm and pulled you towards Talokan.

It was like nothing you had ever seen before. It was reminiscent of all of the ancient mesoamerican artifacts you had seen in Yucatán, but entirely its own type of architecture and energy. It was practically dipped in vibranium, every building and structure shining under a source of light you hadn’t found yet.

Kids played with balls, women and their babies waved hello, others were farming further down below. Upon seeing Namor, those nearby bowed their heads and opened their palms to him, just as they had on the mining ship. Namor, always, greeting them back. Some stared at you like you were a ghost.

A child swam up to you, curious. She looked young, maybe four years old at most. She greeted Namor, to which he greeted her back with a grin, before she turned to you and tapped on the glass of your suit. You giggled at her, and she clung onto your arm, swinging from it. 

Someone called out from the distance, and the girl only giggled more before letting her grasp on you go. She waved goodbye and swam away, laughing the entire way. You watched who you assume to be her mother, grab her by the waist and lift her, spinning her around with a grin. This place was beautiful, you thought. These people were beautiful. 

You glanced at Namor; he was already staring at you, a smitten smile on his face. He didn’t look away until he gestured you to follow him again. You did so without hesitation. 

Glancing off into the distance, was the sun. Well, maybe not the real sun, but it was almost as bright as it, and hung in the air as if it were setting. 

“Woah,” you breathed out loud, staring at in wonder. 

“It is called the Sastun. We use it for our rituals. In the depths of the ocean,” Namor said, staring at it as if it were the first time. “I brought the sun to my people.”

You turned to him, amazed. This was all his, you thought. He was in charge of protecting this entire nation. Your heart was churning in your chest, not just at the sight of him, but at the sight of all he had built here. You felt like crying.

“Do you see?” he asked you, breaking the silence and turning to face you. “You must know that I do not... kill... because I am cruel. Or for sport. I do it because I am willing to do anything for them. For this, I would kill a thousand vibranium-hunting scientists, if it meant keeping them from finding us.”

You only stared at him. The knowledge that he has killed never sat well with you. But, guiltily, you understood. This was his home. These were his people. It was his duty to protect them. You got it.

“Come,” he said after a very long pregnant pause. “Let’s get you out of that thing.” 

---

EVENTUALLY, THE PAIR OF YOU MADE your way back up to the cave where you could survive without the suit or the device over your nose and mouth. Your clothes, to your amazement, were perfectly dry when you took the suit off. Wiping off the water that had dripped onto you from the taking off the suit process, Namor lead you into a room that was an offset of the main one that you had woken up in. 

On the walls were beautifully painted murals, depicting what you assumed was the history of Talokan and it’s people. You stared at them, strolling about the room; Namor stood at the doorway, staring at you as you stared at the paintings. One was of a woman holding a child with winged ankles; you assumed it was Namor’s mother. One was of the Black Panther-- showing the battle you assumed he fought recently. 

On the table, however, was a canvas. Around it and on the floor were crushed balls of papyrus, covering in smudged charcoal and ink. Namor hastened forward and grabbed the canvas off of the desk before you could see what was on it, and slid it into the drawer.

“What was that?” you asked. Namor shook his head. 

“Unimportant,” he told you, very obviously lying. “Just... sketches.”

“Hm,” you squinted at him before sitting down on the chair. “These are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he said earnestly, gazing up at them. He ran his hand over the one of the woman and her infant, his fingers tracing the face of the woman.

“Is that your mother?”

“It is,” Namor sighed. “I told you before that I could understand what the Princess was going through, and I was telling the truth. My mother wasn’t killed, no, but my people were. My mother and her village were driven from their maize farms by Spanish conquistadors who brought smallpox, hateful language, and dogma from another world.”

He dropped his hand from the mural, turning around to face you. He pulled up the other chair to sit across from you, sighing again and continuing.

“Facing starvation, war and disease my people turned to Chaac. Our god of rain and abundance. My mother was pregnant with me at the time. She did not want to ingest the plant, for fear of what it may do to me. But the Shaman was convincing. The plant took away their ability to breathe air, but it enabled them to draw oxygen from the sea.

“My people settled in the ocean, away from the war and were cured of their diseases. My mother gave birth to me here, and I became the first born son of Talokan. I was different from other Talokanil. A mutant. I looked different. I was small in size. A runt. But I could breathe the air our ancestors breathed.

“I could swim in the sky and aged slower. As she grew older, my mother mourned the life on land that she once knew and died with a broken heart. My mother made me promise to bury her in the soil of her homeland. But nothing could prepare me for what I would find.“

“What happened?” you asked, however you had an inclining that you knew exactly what he was going to say.

“Terror,” he told you, a grave expression on his face. “My people. Enslaved. By the Spanish.”

You swallowed. You knew it. You studied this in school, how the Spanish “explored” and conquered areas in Mexico and Florida. The look on Namor’s face made you want to cry.

“A Spanish man of faith cursed me as he died by my hand,” he continued, shaking his head. “Called me el niño sin amor.”

“Child without love,” you translated.

“And I took my name from that. Namor. Because I have no love for the surface world,” he grabbed a type of cape off of the back of his chair and draped it over his shoulders, fiddling with the cloth. “Upon returning, I was made King, recognized as K’uk’ulkan, and Talokan grew under my rule.”

“I’m sorry you went through that,” was all you could say. “That’s... I just...”

You could feel your chest churning, your eyes welling up. You were embarrassed of the level of your empathy, how much you cared; you hadn’t realized he meant so much to you, not fully. Hearing his pain, the struggle of his people, it was like living it. He frowned.

“I’m sorry,” you covered up your face. “I don’t mean to... I’m just--”

“Don’t apologize,” he moved his chair forward, gingerly removing your hands from your face and holding them in his own. “Please don’t. It warms me to see that you understand the gravity of the situation I am in.”

“I don’t think it was right of you to kill Queen Ramonda,” you told him, sniffling. “But I... I guess I...”

“I don’t think it was right of me either,” he admitted. “I think it ruined any chances of Talokan becoming peaceful allies with Wakanda. We are allies, now... but... it is not how I would’ve hoped.”

“I get that,” you told him, relishing in the feeling of his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles across your knuckles. There was a long silence. You were relishing in the warmth of him, his closeness. It had only been two months since you saw him last, on the boat, but even that, you realized, was too long.

“I must get you home, now,” Namor told you finally, a slight frown on his face, his eyes knowing. You gazed at him, your teary eyes unable to do anything else. He was right, you knew that; your sister was no doubt hysterical. But you couldn’t find it in you to move. “Unless, you... well...”

“What?” you tilted your head to the side.

“You could stay,” he shrugged. Your lips curled up. “Here. It’s safe, there’s plenty of food and water... many of my people stay up here. We could find a way for you to go down to Talokan without the bulky suit, and--”

“Slow down,” you breathed pleasantly, leaning forward and cupping a hand to his cheek. He shut up instantly, leaning into your hand. “I have a job. And a sister. I... I can’t just...”

“I know,” he heaved a sigh. “Worth a shot, no?”

“I can’t live here,” you told him. “But for the night... well...?”

Namor suddenly grinned, wider than you had ever seen him grin before. The apples of his cheeks had turned a berry color, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Leaning towards you, he pressed his lips onto yours. You could feel his smile through the kiss, and you couldn’t help but smile yourself as his hands cupped at the sides of your cheeks.

He led you to stand, getting to his feet as well, and pulled you flush against him. You breathed him in, finding it hard to smile as your lips moved against his. The pair of you wandered backwards towards the far wall that was empty of the mural. 

Your back hit the wall, and you giggled against his lips as he moved to you two were practically chest to chest. Namor grinned too, pulling away from a second, both hands still on either sides of your cheeks, and he stared at you for a second. 

“Nib óolal, Chaac, tuméen taasik teen ti' leti',” he mumbled to himself, kissing your lips again before kissing your cheekbones, your forehead, your nose, your neck.

“What’s-- that-- mean?” you asked, struggling o speak because he kept kissing you and interrupting.

“Nothing,” he grinned cheekily. You narrowed your eyes.

“C’mon,” you nudged him. He shook his head. 

“You’ll find out later,” Namor told you, rubbing a thumb across your cheekbone. 

“Promise?” you lifted up a pinky. He furrowed his eyes, staring at it. You giggled and peeled his free hand off of you, linking pinkies with him. “Pinky-promise.”

“That is ridiculous,” Namor declared. “Yes, I promise. I don’t understand this pinky-thing.”

You rolled your eyes and kissed him again.

---

translation:

“Nib óolal, Chaac, tuméen taasik teen ti' leti'.” -- Thank you, Chaac, for bringing me to her.

taglist:

@childishnewt @criesinlies @fairydxll @cassiestars777 @chaoticevilbakugo @blue-chup @qirsupply @artsynellyyy @vlamley @lovenewfandoms @lulu-83 @seraphimcollections @kingtwhiddleston @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @tian-monique @kentucky-criedfricken @takeyour-pants-off @this--is--music @queenmeraairam @katsukiswrld @lokidbadguy @cherrywinepoison @maah-sama @reallysparklychaos @agustdboyoongie @jurneesjourney @mik-bxrnes @i-reblog-fics-i-like @mcximvffs @kaqua @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @eichenhouseproperty @aliyahsomerhalder @justkay2 @only-his3 @deadlydahlias @lunamoonbby @yoshiiib0 @writers-hes @lansy-4 @rhymingtree​ @xxmilli​

a/n: having wakanda forever on disney plus has seriously fueled my fire. thank god we got these high quality gifs now cuz my guy looks stunning