#black panther 2 fanfic

[nellycanwrite]

A Request

Part 1 of the “The Request” Series  ||  Attuma x Talokanil!Princess!Reader

Summary: As the daughter of the feathered serpent god, you had always felt the pressure of living up to your father’s name. But you never had to worry; Attuma was always there to quell your fears and follow your will to the ends of the earth.

Or, in which Attuma swears his undying loyalty and love for you, even if it meant being as shameless as to declare his love to a princess when he was but a mere warrior.  

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 10.9K

Warnings: None. Just pure fluffy goodness. If you include a slightly overprotective Dad!Namor then yes, he’s the warning. Maybe a little bit of childhood friends to lovers. A whole lot of Princess x Warrior. 

Note: It is worthy to note that I have not included any deep Yucatec Maya phrases (besides the terms of endearment) despite the Talokanil speaking in their native tongue as respect to their language. Therefore their mother tongue shall be labeled with italics.

Part 1  ||  Part 2 ||  Part 3

K'uk'ulkan had never felt as much loss as he had the day he had lost your mother. Yet there lay bittersweet joy; for the heir to the throne of Talokan had breathed their first breath and let out a cry so strong it beckoned the creatures of the deep sea to their bidding.

You were born a wee thing; weak and fragile as the old shells that littered the floors of the sea. Yet you held strong in the arms of your father as he witnessed his wife lifelessly lay in their shared chambers. The handmaidens and wet nurses all wept and mourned at the loss of their queen, the ocean swayed with the waves of its people's grief. You cried with your father's subjects as if you had understood the passing of Talokan's queen mother, but K'uk'ulkan never shed a tear, no. 

 He was a king to his people. He was the protector of his nation. A God was he revered by both land and sea.

 He was your father.

 And he dared not to weep in front of the children he held so dear—for even in the heartache of his loss does he remember the weight of his divine majesty and countenance to his people.

 “The queen of Talokan has passed,” K'uk'ulkan swallowed the lump that formed on his throat as he bit back bitter tears. Tears that he will never show his people in a sign of great weakness, “yet she would not have wished for us to mourn in sadness. She brought us a gift that none could ever compare. She would have wished for us to celebrate in her absence for the birth of our child—Talokan's first heir.”

 The you who had been presented with a crown and a scepter of your kingdom's rule since your birth inherited your father's features; the ears that pointed to the heavens as a sign of the divine blood that flowed through your veins, the golden skin that the sun had seemed to kiss in great exhalation to your birth, and the wings of heaven bestowed upon your ankles.

 You were undoubtedly his child. The heir to K’uk’ulkan’s great nation. 

 You were loved by both land and sea, perhaps a gift from your late grandmother's love for the surface, for when you visit the land and take gulps of air do you stay breathing and when you step into the rocks of your father's study do you remain kissed by the sun. You did not change into the color of the sea like the maids that have cared for you, instead, you remained the same color as your own father when he sits idly on dry land. 

 At the tender age of seven did you realize the weight of the name of your father. You aspired to become like him, to fly like him, to lead the people like he did in childish wonder. He showed you the land that your ancestors once owned, the burial sight of your late grandmother, Fen, and the beauty that came with your motherland.

 You yearned for the sights of the surface world, craved for the sun that illuminated the sky—not the one that your father had curated all those years ago, but the one that sits amongst the clouds of the surface—and you whispered wistful wishes to walk into the luscious green of the land that was unknown to you.

 But your father forbids you to go further than the coves of Talokan's entrance. The sole heir to the throne of your nation should be safe. Protected. You were only allowed to go up into the surface every three months, a leniency that your father had so mercifully given you, and stare at the land dwelling wildlife that would so cross your vision. 

 You were merely stuck in the watchful eyes of your guards as you gazed with great longing at the mountains so far from your reach and the forests that would call your name. 

 Despite the love that you had for the beauties of the surface world, you loved your people and your great nation of the deep sea. You loved your father and tried your best to live up to the name of K'uk'ulkan. At the age of eleven you were made aware of your duties to your people. You had made sure that those duties were fulfilled despite the protests of your elders for being so young; that the beloved princess of Talokan need not to carry on the mantle of her royal duties just yet. But you worked hard to outshine your peers to preserve the honor of your father. 

 K’uk’ulkan could not be any prouder than he is now. 

 But the pedestal that you stood on was lonely. You did not have many friends, not because your father was protective of you and had guards at your beck and call, but because you were always so nervous to converse with the other Talokanil children.

 What if they didn’t like you? What if they decided that your status as a princess would hinder their relationship with you? What if they didn’t see you as a prospect to rule them in the future when your father passes the baton of his majesty to you?

 How ironic must it be for the princess of a great nation cower before the idea of friendship to her own people.

 But that had changed when your father let you meet two Talokanil children; Namora and Attuma.

 You knew Namora as your relative—your father’s cousin, to be exact—and sometimes came and went into the palace when you studied. But you never did get the chance to talk to her. You were far too anxious to try and talk to someone whose aura was as intense as hers, even when she’s just a few years older than you.

 “They said they wanted to be your friend, in waal.” my child, he said. Both of them shifted nervously from where they stood, toy spears hidden behind their backs as they fidgeted in place. You noticed how Namora elbowed the boy Attuma on the ribs. He glared at her albeit playfully and said nothing as he behaved.

 You have always noticed the two of them from afar when you studied near your father's throne. They were always rowdy, always hitting each other with their spears clumsily. Despite this, they always laughed and took everything in a merry stride. They never ceased to amaze you.

 Even though Namora was far smaller than Attuma (or any other Talokanil child your age, really), she always won their little play-fights. Their roughhousing caused other children to stay clear of them, but you always found them fascinating. You never knew they wanted to be your friends. You have never as much as held a proper conversation with them except for a few nervous waves and panicked scrambling on your part when they caught you staring.

 “My…friends?” It was your turn to fidget nervously, your hands clasping together and your thumbs twiddling against each other whilst you looked down. You felt the water shift as your father swam towards you, his tender gaze calming you down when his figure covered you from the curious eyes of the Talokanil children.

 “That's right. They want to play with you. I'm sure you were wishing for the same, no?” He chuckled knowingly. You felt heat rise from the back of your neck and crawl up your cheeks—your father had seen you staring at them while they were playing almost everyday!

 Nervously, you nodded ever slowly. There was no lie to his claims. You truly did wish for them to become your friends.

 Attuma's patience must have run out when you were taking your time to reply to your father. You shrieked in surprise when you met the biggest grin you had seen in your life from just above you, an incisor clearly missing in the front of his mouth. K'uk'ulkan laughed and gently coaxed the boy down to your level, his hair flowing gracefully with the water as your father grabbed his ankles and lowered him in front of you. 

 “Wanna play with us?” You blinked at his straightforwardness. You glanced at your father for help, but he merely chuckled and gestured for you to answer. 

 “I—well—um…” He was too close to you that you felt like fainting from your own nerves.

 “Attuma, don't be rude,” Attuma grunted when Namora appeared by his side and delivered a firm whack to his head with a toy spear. You breathed out a centering exhale before shooting Namora a thankful look. She huffed at Attuma, “you might scare her. And you just swam over the king!”

 “I do not mind. But be more mindful next time, Attuma. You must not swim over your elders.” K'uk'ulkan chuckled endearingly at the children's antics. He already knew how rambunctious they would be whenever he passed by them play-fighting.

 Attuma nodded with a gapped-tooth grin but K'uk'ulkan doubts he would really listen to him. But that was alright—he has plenty of time to learn respect. The king of Talokan wishes for these children to be their mischievous selves a little while longer and enjoy their carefree lives as young Talokanil. 

 K'uk'ulkan notices you fidget once again when Namora turns her attention to you, just as eager to make you their new friend. You try to make out words with broken sentences, yet there was no right greeting that would come. You would deflate when Namora would hold the reins of the conversation again. You failed to introduce yourself proudly and your embarrassment made K'uk'ulkan coo—how precious could his princess be?

 He chuckles and patted Namora and Attuma on the crowns of their heads, successfully diverting their attention away from you and into his benevolent smile.

 “She's a little nervous, but she has a good heart. She also wishes to become your friend. But remember that you have to listen; it is the makings of a great warrior.”

 “A great warrior?” Namor's eyes sparkled. Attuma stared at his king with wonder similar to the spark of Namora's eyes.

 K'uk'ulkan chuckled and nodded. You chose this moment to swim to your father's side, hiding half of your body behind his own. You looked at Attuma and Namora curiously while they waited for their king's next words. 

 “A great warrior not only takes a spear and protects their people, but they listen as well. They listen to their people's cries and act upon their needs. It is also your duty to listen to your leaders—for they hold the burden of choice. Never forget that, my young warriors.”

 Your father rubbed your back soothingly and pushed you gently forward. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as soon as you were in close proximity with the two Talokanil children. 

 “Now this is your first task your king asks of you; listen to what the princess has to say, understood?”

 They were eagerly waiting for your next words, their bodies barely holding in their excitement. You would have swam away right then and there, but you steeled your resolve and took a deep breath.

 You said your name with a stutter, but that did not deter you. Your father gave you a reassuring pat to your shoulder. It filled you with more confidence to look them straight into the eye and say;

 “I—I wish to be your friend, Namora. Attuma.”

 The children gleamed happily, the water shifting as they circled you in excitement. Attuma had it in himself to wrap his arms around you and giggle with such carefree mirth that it covered you in a sense of welcome. Of belonging. 

 “You don’t know how long we wanted to become your friend, princesa!” He exclaimed, his arms still wrapped around you firmly. His toy spear now lay discarded on the ocean floor but he didn’t seem to mind.

 Overwhelmed with the attention, you stuttered and twitched in his embrace. But you didn’t feel uncomfortable; it was a pleasant feeling to finally have a friend. But you weren’t used to physical touches just yet.

 A large hand pried you off of Attuma, your hair whipping around you as you were now brought back to your father’s side. You saw him smile cordially at the boy, albeit strained, as his eyes twitched ever so slightly.

 “Now, we have to be gentle with the princess. There shall be no sudden touches in her presence, especially with you, Attuma.”

 Attuma blinked and cocked his head to the side, but he didn’t question his king’s instructions. 

Years have passed since you have befriended the rowdy young warriors that K’uk’ulkan looked upon with great fondness. You, along with Namora and Attuma, have trained under the wing of your father in the ways of the spear much to your new friends’ joy.

 As the next heir to the throne of your nation, you always did your best to meet the expectations that came with the name of the daughter of the feathered serpent god. You would go to the fields of your farmers to oversee harvest, weave baskets with the elderly to help the storage of the new batch of produce, and join the scholars that studied vibranium so you would further verse yourself to the mineral that grew in abundance in your ocean floors. 

 They were once such a tedious task for you; something that you did out of necessity. But Namora and Attuma made it a point to follow you everywhere you go, help you with the work and doubling the yields of your effort, and they made you smile when you were far too tired after your duties. 

 Attuma had made it a habit to make you cling on his back as you swam back home. There was no reason for you to get more exhausted than you already were, he told you. And despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself falling into a habit as well.

 You found your royal duties far more enjoyable with them by your side, and you absolutely awaited the time of the day where you were relieved of your duties to go and spend your time with them. 

 “Don’t you find studying boring?”  Attuma asked you one day, his meticulous hands polishing his training spear near the drop of the deep trenches. You tilted your head as soon as you seated yourself beside him, your legs dangling on the steep edge.

 “I don’t think so…the language of the surface dwellers is fascinating. I find it enjoyable to learn.”

 “You’re better off not knowing their language,” Namora huffed as she emerged from the bottom of the trench, a small lamp containing bright vibranium sustaining you with much needed light. She held her training spear proudly by her side, freshly decorated with shells that she found down below, “you know what they did to our grandmothers and grandfathers. I don’t see why you want to learn so much about them.”

 “It is my duty, Namora. Once I take the throne I might need to talk with the surface dwellers one day,” you looked down on your lap and fiddled with the jade bracelet your father had gifted you on your fifteenth birthday—one that once belonged to your grandmother, “and I’m just preparing…just in case.”

 “We’d be dead before we let any of those surface dwellers see you, princesa,” Attuma nudged his shoulders against yours and grinned, “we’ll make sure you don’t even have to talk to them as long as we’re there to protect you.”

 “Did father tell you to say that?”

 “What? No!” You gave Attuma a squinted eye stare and hummed. He averted his eyes nervously, his hands now working on his spear with more fervor than before. You and Namora snickered at his plight. 

 “He did.” Namora confirmed your suspicions. You sighed but left it be. You knew your father was just trying to protect you, so you let him do as he pleases. Although you did not fully understand the depth of the weight of his responsibilities, you could still recognize the great sorrow that came with his hate for the surface world.

 And you had kept quiet about your longing to go up into the land; for you knew how it would pain him to know that you bore as much love for the surface as you did for the love you had for your nation. 

 Attuma cleared his throat and straightened his back, the spear he had decorated with the teeth of hammerheads now lay by his side. He stared at you with such conviction that rendered you speechless in his presence, and the light from the faux sun that your father had created casted him in a glorious light that made your breath hitch in your throat and the feathers on your ankles bristle in anticipation. 

 “I’ll do my best to train hard, princesa. I’ll become strong enough to protect Talokan—to protect you—so that you won’t even have to worry about any surface dwellers by the time you will inherit the throne.”

 You felt more heat rush from your neck and now up to your eyes, his words giving you so much joy that you could possibly even imagine.

 You had a friend far more loyal than any of your own guards from your father’s command. And if there was one thing you had learned from your duties as princess, that was the honor that came with a loyal subject.

 Your flustered surprise was eventually replaced with giggles when Namora hit Attuma on the head with the brunt side of her spear, her face contorting to one of lighthearted teasing. 

 “Do you really think you’re the only one training to be by the princess’ side? You’ll have to go through me first.”

 “Then I’ll just have to train harder to beat you, Namora,” Attuma glanced at you and gave you a grin, “I’ll be the one to stand by the princess’ side.”

 “You’ve never even beaten me once.” “There’s a first time for everything.”

 She scoffed. “In your dreams.”

 You stopped their little play-fight before it got too heated by pulling them closer to your side, your arms around their necks and laughing with such elation. You were thankful that they came into your lives and became your closest friends, and you would not ever want to see them change as you slowly aged with the sea. 

 “While the both of you train to become warriors, I’ll study even harder so I could be a queen that both of you will be proud to serve under. I don’t want your efforts to go to waste and serve a leader that’s incompetent.”

 “You don’t have to do that, princesa. We shall follow you through the ends of the earth if need be. We already know that you outshine any ruler that came before and will come after you.”

 “My father would not be too pleased if he heard you say that, Attuma.”

 “He feels the same way, don’t worry.” Namora spoke in turn for the boy. You giggled when Attuma gave you a cheeky grin. 

 The three of you laughed with glee, unspoken promises now drifting with the currents of the outskirts of the capital city of your great nation.

It’s almost been a century since you have befriended them. A century since you have made your closest friends and aides. Namora and Attuma were always stuck by your side even when there were calls from their king to gather his strongest men. They gave you counsel, they gave you peace, they gave you protection in your times of need.

 Nowadays, though, Namora has frequented your father’s side more likely than not—mostly because she was his cousin and his most exemplary warrior. Attuma was only second in skill compared to Namora, but he was still powerful in his own right.

 You wondered when would your father hail them as generals; they deserve to be given the title for their service and their wit. You, as the princess of Talokan, can vouch for their competence. 

 “Where shall we go today, princesa?” Attuma asked you, his gait slowly inching closer to your own.

 The boy you once knew had grown into a fine man. He had honed his body to withstand the greatest blows, turned himself into a living shield for your purpose and disposal. You did not want him to go into such extremities, but he always insisted. He even went as far as to hunt hammerhead sharks on his own and nearly killed himself in the process. The bites of hostiles were lodged firmly into his stomach, and the scars that littered his skin became trophies of his successful exploits. 

 You cried and cried beside him as you told him how stupid he was, how foolish he was to do everything in your name. How could he throw himself into danger just to train himself for your sake? It did not make sense to you, and you reckon that you will never understand the mind of a great warrior like Attuma. 

 Despite this, he comforted you and held you close to him; told you that he would welcome any sort of pain just so he could protect you from harm's way. You cried again and punched him in his abdomen—you were sure to tell your healers that you would be the one to patch up your reckless guard as an apology. 

 You felt his warmth from the water that surrounded you as it shifted when he tucked a strand of hair behind your pointed ears. You smiled.

 “You can call me by my name, Attuma. You know that.”

 “How dare I ever utter your name so casually?” He asked you almost incredulously. You sighed.

 “We have been friends for over a century. You can be comfortable with me,” you turned to him with a pout, “please?”

 “Is that an order?” He asked you, a trace of amusement from his quirked lip. You huffed and crossed your arms.

 “You know I don't like giving orders, Attuma.”

 “Then I shall continue calling you by your title, princesa.”

 “And what if I ask you this as a request?” You swam closer to him, your pout breaking out into a knowing grin.

 Attuma stayed silent, his head turned to avoid your piercing gaze. He felt heat from the back of his neck at your proximity, but he didn't dare move away from you.  

 You huffed.

 “You're no fun.” 

 Attuma resisted the urge to chuckle. You looked at him in the corner of your eyes and smiled; you knew he couldn't resist it when you tried to make him laugh.

 “And what of your errands today?” He asked you, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. You blinked and swam towards him, pling his large bicep into the direction of your father's study.

 “We've wasted much time, Attuma. Now come, we are going to the surface.” He nodded in affirmation and led you towards the entrance of the underwater cave systems your father introduced you to as a child. It was one of your favorite places, but your duties called you to the deeper parts of the sea to tend to your people.

 As soon as you ascended, you saw the figure of your father dressed in his cloak as he painted murals upon the walls. Beside him was Namora, her mask on her face and her pallor now blue for being in land. You regarded your father with a bow, gestured him with the sign of your people’s respect, and slowly ascended into his study. 

 “Father.” you called out to him. He paused from his painting and smiled at you, his eyes filling with so much love that it was unlike the name the surface dwellers cursed him to be. 

 “In princesa,” my princess, he greeted you, reaching out to wipe the saltwater away from your eyes, “what brings you here?”

 “It is the time of the year to visit the surface, father. I was just here to let you know before I went.” His face steeled much like the other months across the century you had told him. But it was not in a place of anger—it was in a place of worry for your well-being.

 “I trust you to remember all that I have taught you. Return as soon as possible, understood?” You nodded and grabbed his hands, squeezing them tight in assurance.

 “You do not have to worry. You have taught me well. And Attuma will be with me while I am out, so I shall be safe in his hands.” 

 K’uk’ulkan glanced behind you, now regarding Attuma with a nod of acknowledgement as he placed his mask on his face. Attuma bowed his head in respect and tightened the hold on his spear. The king’s brows furrowed.

 “If you bring Namora with you—”

 “Father,”  you cut him off, “I will be alright. I will not do anything to endanger myself nor Attuma. I will merely visit the borders of the reef, is all. I’m sure our warriors have already scouted the area before they were called back.”

 “In waal…”

 “We always go through this every three months. I do not doubt your worries, but place your trust in me and the warrior I have chosen.”

 Attuma straightened his back a tad bit, his chest rising in pride. He met eyes with Namora and grinned behind his mask. Namora simply replied with a silent roll of her eyes. 

 K’uk’ulkan swallowed a lump on his throat and sighed. He knew you were right. He trusted you enough that you would be safe, especially when someone as skilled as Attuma were to be by your side. It was the surface that he did not trust. It took so much from him and his forefathers even before Talokan came to be. He did not want to lose you to the claws of the surface world.

 He would have volunteered to come with you, to make sure you were safe, but one look from Namora was all he needed to know that he was needed in the council in just a few moments.

 He sighed. There was no stopping you when you had your mind set on a task.

 “Stay safe.” He gently held the back of your head and ducked down to meet your forehead. You hummed and closed your eyes, squeezing his hand in assurance.

 “You sound as if I am going to war,” you joked, “I shall return safe. I promise. It is not something that I have not done before.”

 “You know your strengths, my daughter. But be wary, still. Negligence is the first sign of weakness,” he separated himself from you and turned towards the wall mounted with spears. He took one of his own and gave it to you, the vibranium of the weapon shimmering under the light of the luminescent algae. It felt balanced. Powerful. He then smiled, “and never forget your weapon.”

 You chuckled and bowed your head in respect, the spear now by your side.

 “Yes, father.”

 K’uk’ulkan turns to Attuma and beckons him forth. The warrior obeyed with no hesitance and bowed before his king. You watched as your father nodded to himself and placed a hand on Attuma’s shoulder.

 “She’s a bit of a handful, so look after her, Attuma.” You gawked at him.

 “Father!” 

 “I will do as you say, in ajawo,” my king, he said. The warrior dared to look up and showed his conviction to his king, “I will keep her safe—even when she is a handful.”

 “You did not have to agree with everything my father says!”

 Namora cleared her throat and cheekily chimed in. “K'uk'ulkan is our king. Whatever he says we agree to, princesa.”

 K’uk’ulkan ignored your huffs of protest and Namora’s silent laughter as he squinted at the man, the hand that lay on his shoulder now tightening in warning. Attuma held his ground and did not yield to his king’s hold. He knew the reason for his king’s aggression; it came from a place of protectiveness. You were his only daughter after all.

 And Attuma was a man who held a century-long love for you, something that K’uk’ulkan wasn’t particularly fond of.

 But you were too stubbornly attached to him that no scheme that K’uk’uklan thought of would separate the two of you. He was far too wrapped around your fingers to fully say no to your whims. The king’s only saving grace is the fact that you were far too oblivious to notice the affections of your own guard.

 K’uk’ulkan felt a sliver of sympathy for Attuma. Just a tad bit.

 He narrowed his eyes. “And there shall be no…detours along the way, understood? Keep the princess safe, no more than that.”

 “Yes, in ajawo.” With a final nod, K'uk'ulkan released his grip from his warrior's soldiers and bid a final farewell before being led out by Namora to the depths of Talokan. She gave Attuma a knowing glance and bowed her head before you. 

 “Be careful, princesa. The world will incur K'uk'ulkan's wrath if you return scathed.” She joked. But knowing your father, you did not doubt that he would burn the world if you would come back harmed in any way; more reasons for you to stay careful for your visit.

 You smiled. “I will be careful, Namora. Do not worry. I have Attuma with me as well.”

 She nodded and followed after her king to the water, now disappearing into your view. You faced Attuma and gave him a grin.

 “Let's go visit the surface.”

 You knew the underwater caves like the back of your hand. You weaved through the dark waters, greeting the guards hidden by the rocks. They bowed their heads and regarded you with the gesture of your people, a courtesy fit only for the daughter of their god and king.

 You smiled to yourself when Attuma swam forward when sunlight peeked through the entrance of the surface, his spear drawn and ready by his side. He looked so focused and attentive, his whole body on high alert. You giggled as you reached him and held his hand, squeezing it tightly while looking into his eyes. 

 “You are too stiff. Nothing will harm us here.” You told him. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. 

 “I am your aide. It is only natural for me, in princesa.”

 “I only wish for you to be at ease, Attuma,” you tugged him to the direction of the light, the sun now making itself known to the both of you. Attuma squinted at the sudden brightness; he wasn’t used to seeing something as intense as the real sun, after all. It was his first time visiting the surface world, “you will love the sights, I promise you.”

 Attuma felt wrong to be swimming beside you like you were equals. No aide of the high blood of Talokan should even dare to swim in stride beside a warrior who bore no rank. But by your side, he felt safe and welcomed.

 He did not feel fear despite it being the first time he had ever visited the surface world. Rather, he felt it to be…intimate, in a way. You trusted him wholeheartedly, put your safety in his hands as you ventured outside the safety of your own kingdom, and shared the experience that he knew to be significant to you even if you did not tell anyone your sentiments.

 But he knew. He always knew. 

 And he would protect you in great fealty as you explore the land that you so loved, even though he knew it would anger his own king to grant your taboo affection for the surface world.

 Away from the prying eyes of the other Talokanil, he allowed himself to indulge in his selfish desires and swam closer to you; your shoulders almost touching, hands tightly intertwined, and his heart finally free of the formalities that came with being your guard.

 He let himself become a man whose soul reached out to you in longing. 

 Your heads broke through the water and were hit by the rays of the golden sun. You let Attuma adjust to the light for a few moments, his hands shielding his eyes as he tried to view the sun from between his fingers. You watched his skin slowly turn blue as the air hit his skin, and you had to smile ever so slightly as you watched him marvel at the green forests just across the beach. 

 “Your mask.” You reminded him, the hand that was intertwined with his tightening in your hold. He nodded albeit meekly, seemingly embarrassed to have forgotten to equip himself in the midst of his awe, and let go of your hand to make sure his mask was secure.

 Attuma already missed the warmth as soon as he willed himself to part from you in a respectful distance, now aware how shameless he was to have succumbed to his own desires.

 You guided him to the rocks that overlooked the beach, just by the edge of the corals that your people have grown to create a border for those who visited the surface. It was a reminder on how you were never truly free to roam the surface and discover the riches beyond your own kingdom.

 The stories your father had told you plagued your mind, but beyond the violence that your forefathers have witnessed, robbed of the land that was yours by birthright, you wanted to see for yourself the motherland that your grandmother loved. You were angry at the surface dwellers, yes. You raged at the thought of the conquistadors that tainted your ancestral home. 

 But you never did loathe the surface. You just wanted to connect to the land of your ancestors that you were stripped of. 

 You were broken from your thoughts when you heard the squelch of water on rock. You looked beside you to see Attuma in full attention, his visage that of a man in full guard. You would have laughed if you saw him so serious in the midst of such a peaceful afternoon, but you knew how much his duty to you and your king meant to him.

 Attuma stood by your side whilst you leaned back and rested your feet on the water. You patted the space beside you, but he shook his head. You pouted. 

 “Join me to rest. You are not bound by the rules of my father here,” you told him, your face cracking into a mischievous smile, “be at ease, Attuma.”

 “Is that an order?” He gave you a glance, his eyes twinkling under the sun. Only now did you appreciate his dark gaze. It was as intense as it was full of life. You giggled and patted the empty space beside you once again. 

 “A request.”

 He stared at you for a few moments, his eyes locking into yours and sending shivers down your spine. You held his gaze, the water on your skin turning cold when the breeze hit your flesh. With a huff, he put down his spear and sat next to you, his hand dangerously close to your own. 

 “If you’ll allow me.”

 In silence did you bask in the beauty of the faraway beach that should have been inherited to you by your ancestors. The lands that stretched across the plains and the jungles of vivid colors would have been yours to rule by your father’s side. It pained you to know that you cannot even set foot on those beaches.

 It was the order of your father. The order of your king.

 An order to protect you from the surface dwellers that took your grandmother from him.

 It only served to remind you that—despite the feathered ankles that promised you freedom—you were caged in this lonely corner of the earth, away from the adventures that you wanted to experience in full. 

 “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked your guard, your eyes following the birds that idly preened themselves on the branches. Attuma stared at you from the corner of his eyes, his lips turning into a smile as you leaned forward in interest. 

 “Quite so.” His heart skipped a beat when your eyes twinkled in amazement, your gaze never wandering from the land. 

 “Would it be shameless of me to long for the surface?” You asked him suddenly. Attuma shook his head quickly. 

 “Never.”

 “Speak your mind. I did not ask you to indulge me and curry my favor,” you sighed and wrought your fingers together, your hand now leaving the proximity of your guard’s own, “I ask you for counsel, Attuma. You are one of the few people that I trust.”

 Attuma was silent as he mulled over your question. An aide to the heir of the throne must only listen and follow their whims. The will of their masters were the will of their followers; he dare not disobey such courtesy.

 But in the freedom of the duty that binded him to such rules by your order, he granted himself full autonomy. 

 “It might be so, in princesa,” you looked at him curiously. He held the urge to submit to you, to take back the words of his own opinion, and continued on, “you are the heir to Talokan, the nation built on the suffering of our ancestors who fled the land to hide in the sea. To long for the surface is a defiance to their dying will.”

 “But we were robbed of our ancestral lands. What if I long to get it back? To let our people walk in the motherland that we once came from? To let them see this; the beauty that they were deprived of when we were chased off our own inheritance?” “Then you should be prepared for war.” 

 He looked directly into your eyes, ones that held such young wisdom and hope. But he knew from the countless battles he fought that to reclaim the stolen land you wished to rule is to declare a fight that you were far too merciful to lead.

 “To reclaim the right that we once owned…you must be ready to shed blood; both the blood of the surface and the blood of your people. But to declare battle you must reveal our nation. Our king’s will shall not allow such a thing.”

 Attuma watched as you lowered your head, trapped in the swirl of your thoughts as you continued to deliberate the weight of his words. He flagrantly allowed himself to reach for your hand first, draw circles on the back of your hand tenderly, and scooted himself closer so his hulking gait would protect you from the prying eyes of the world. 

 You squeezed his hand with yours, your breath stuttering at your next words.

 “And what if I still desire to reclaim our land back, Attuma?” You looked up and held his gaze, your eyes now steeling itself to one of conviction.

 He smiled.

 “Then I shall shed blood for your will, in princesa.”

 You searched for any sort of hesitation in his strong features, to try and coax out any sort of loose ends of his loyalty. But you saw nothing of such sort; there only lay pure faith to your very existence, one that you recognize as unyielding. 

 You stared at him right in the eye. It was piercing, cold. One that beckoned utmost honesty from your aide. It was not a simple decision to make—even the words you have uttered this very moment would be considered blasphemous. Outright treacherous.

 “Even if it means to defy the orders of your king?”

 He did not waver as he replied.

 “You are the one that I serve. My loyalty lies with you.” He took his spear and knelt before you, his one knee digging into the rock in which you lay. He pierced his weapon down into the earth, took your hand to rest upon his cheek, and presented himself to the utmost fidelity.

 “Have you not sworn your service under the name of my father?”

 “I have sworn nothing,” he practically growled, his grip on his spear tightening, “I long for nothing more than to swear my piety to you. I am indebted to K’uk’ulkan; I revere him as my god and king. Yet I cannot stand the thought of offering my loyalties to anyone else but you.”

 You felt your heart throb against your chest, your eyes stinging with wet tears. It was a feeling foreign to you. The waves usually wipe your tears away at the bottom of the sea. But here on land, you wore your heart on your sleeve. It was an overwhelming feeling, one that urged you to cover your mouth to stifle your joyous sobs.

 In the face of the man you had grown up with, in the presence of such undying loyalty did you fail to mask your elation. Yet your head was muddled with confusion—why was he always so devoted to you? Why would he risk being cast out when your father still sits on the throne and swears his loyalties to you? Why was he so willing to defy the orders of his king for your selfish whims?

 You knew the weight of a warrior's oath. It was not something to be taken lightly. Warriors would swear upon the names of leaders who have fought countless battles, led the charge to warfare, and those who were considered gods like your father.

 You were none of those.

 You were not your father.

 “Why?” You asked him, your hands trembling against his cheek. “Compared to my father, I am nothing. Why would you swear your loyalty to me when I have nothing to give you in return? It will still be years—centuries, even—before I could inherit the throne and bear the title of queen mother. So why?”

 Silence fell between the two of you, the waves of the high afternoon playing the symphonies of its motherlands. You felt like you were suffocating despite the beauty that surrounded you while you waited for him to speak.

 Finally, Attuma slowly raised his head and kissed the palm of your hand. It brought a wave of heat from the back of your neck to your cheeks, and even the tips of your pointed ears warmed at the gesture. 

 “Will you allow me to speak out of turn?” He asked you, his voice uncharacteristically soft. You blinked back the tears that obscured your vision and nodded.

 “Speak your mind, Attuma.”

 He breathed in a stuttering breath, the hand that held yours tightening and trembling. It made you nervous; a warrior such as he, the embodiment of a shield that protects his nation, stuttered and shook in your hold. He could overpower you at any second, purge the world of your existence, but here he was, weak and vulnerable in your presence. 

 He locked eyes with you, those gorgeous oaken eyes stared deep into your very being without reservation. You found yourself feeling faint, as if you have fallen into a pleasant trap that you weren’t too keen on getting out of. 

 And with a steady voice he said;

 “I love you, in princesa. I always have since we were children. I only breathe to serve you, only live to please you. If you so asked me to burn the world and slay your enemies, then I will show you the ashes of their bones on a jaden chest. If you asked me to become your shield, then I shall parry every blade for you and protect you with my last breath. If you asked me to become your spear, then the blood of your foes shall dye the sea in red…” 

 He paused as he drew closer, the heat of his body enveloping you in a sensation of great adoration. He gripped your hand tighter, his lips lingering on your palms as he leaned further into your touch. 

 “...and if you asked me to become your beloved, then I will become the most faithful man you would ever lay your eyes upon—for your joys are my joys, and your sorrows are mine to bear.”

 You felt your throat constrict, the heat from your face now traveling down to the tips of your fingers down to the very ends of your feathered ankles. Your wings bristled and shook, your breath hitching at every breath, and you felt the sudden urge to look away from those unwavering eyes. But the gravity of his own magnetism was enough to drive you back in; to never tear your gaze away from the man that confessed his love for you.

 Though this begs the question; did you love him back?

 Attuma must have misunderstood your silence for rejection, so he slowly removed your hands from his cheeks and bowed his head in shame.

 “I have spoken out of turn. I apologize,” he held his spear tightly, but he never removed himself from his bow—a sign of his submission to you, “whether or not you accept my feelings, I will still stay by your side. I will serve under you, make my oath in the witness of K’uk’ulkan of my loyalty to you. I will ask for nothing more.”

 Your heart broke at how easily it was for him to apologize. No person should ever apologize for the feelings that they bear. It only proved how devoted the great warrior was to you; for him to present his feelings of love to you and still offer his loyalty in the face of rejection. 

 You recounted the days of your youth down to the decades worth of memories with him. How could you have been so blind to have ignored the signs of his affections? How blinded were you with your duties that you allowed yourself to turn away from the subtle declarations of his feelings for you?

 How foolish were you to actually dismiss your own feelings for him? You love Attuma. You always have.

 “Why have you not said anything in the century we have been together?” You asked him, your voice low and meek. You did not want to lose the warmth of his skin, so you gently lifted his head with both of your hands and let him meet your eyes. 

 You saw the gaze of your warrior waver.

 “My duty is to protect you. How dare I be so impertinent as to bear feelings for the daughter of my own king?”

 You shook your head and leaned in to rest your forehead against his. You heard the clatter of his vibranium spear on the rocks and into the water below. But you simply did not care at that moment. 

 “You are never impertinent, not when I bear the same love for you as you have for me.”

 You heard his breath hitch. The hands that lay dutifully to his side now flying up to your face and hold your cheeks so delicately. In the large and dependable hands of your warrior did you feel safe and loved. It was unlike the other times that he had shown you affection when you were merely just friends.

 What were you now, you wondered, now that you and him share the same feelings.

 In that moment of solace did Attuma realize his place, but he did not dare remove his hands from you. He ghosted his fingers over your pointed ears, tangled his hands with your wet hair, and held you tight like you were the most precious thing in the sea. 

 He was but a mere warrior—a shameless peasant whose hands had brazenly touched the skin of his master. 

 “I am just a warrior without a title. You cannot possibly love me as I am.”

 “But I do. I just have never realized it sooner, in yakunaj.” My love, an endearment that made Attuma’s heart flutter and weak against your hands. 

 “And when we are in the eyes of scrutiny, what then should you do?”

“It matters not, my dear warrior.” 

 “But your majesty—!”

 “Am I not the heir to the throne of Talokan? Am I not the princess whose rule is imminent in the witness of your king? Of whom I shall love is a matter of my own choice that not even the feathered serpent god could refute.”

 You drew in closer and wrapped your arms around him. He was strong and powerful, but in your arms did he surrender himself. He was not the warrior you knew him to be. In your arms, he was just a man who held a century worth of ardor.

 “I dare not disgrace you, in princesa. I have nothing in my name but the battles that I have fought as a mere soldier.”

 He removed himself from you and held you tenderly by the cheeks. You leaned against his touch, completely surrendering to the feelings that you have long since ignored since the beginning. He inched himself closer and continued to speak with great affection.

 “But if I would be so bold to ask for you to wait; wait for me to garner titles of my own, build the foundations of my exploits, and ask you again to become mine, would you be so merciful as to grant such a plea?”

 You stared at his resolve, the gaze of the man you have realized you have loved now asking you for the mercy to wait. You cupped his strong jaw and caressed his cheek with your thumb as you said;

 “I will grant you mercy, in yakunaj, only if you fulfill my wish.”

 He became alert, his body ready to grant your desires.

 “Anything, in princesa. Anything for your majesty.”

 “Then I wish for you to call me by my name, I beg you. We bear more than just pleasantries of warrior and royal.”

 He gave you a smile, one that even his mask could not hide, and leaned in to touch his forehead against yours.

 “Is that an order?”

 You smiled. 

 “A request.”

It was merely a few decades later that the great capital city of Talokan was abuzz with the whispers of a great blessing bestowed upon their royal heir. It lit the fire of pride within the citizens of the hidden nation, a pride that K’uk’ulkan wore with high regard as he descended to present himself on the forefront of his throne. 

 Their darling princess, the radiant pearl of the deep sea, was ready to assume the throne of K’uk’ulkan’s legacy. 

 As your citizens have revered your father as the god king of your people, they have revered you as the same; a deity whose hands extended to the waters to create a shield of protection, a divine being whose mercy radiates the warmth of a thousand suns, the daughter of the feathered serpent god whose wings carried you through the winds of battle through the century. Your chest bloomed with unending bliss when you realized you've lived up to the name of your father—an entity that you've molded yourself into the likeness of.

 You had held the expectations of the name of K’uk’ulkan to your very heart, and you were thrilled at the fact that your father had acknowledged your efforts in the witness of your people.

 Your kingdom cheered and praised your name as you descended into the throne room from above, the feathered headpiece similar to your father’s symbolizing your authority as heir apparent of Talokan. Your father extended his hand for you to take, and you had done so with such grace befitting of your title as radiant pearl of the sea.

 And there he had presented you with a throne of your own, just below the teeth of the monster of the deep oceans that he had slain many years ago. It was decorated with the finest of jade, vibranium, and gold with the likeness of an open shell. Compared to his throne that was decorated with the splendor of his long battles, yours was the embodiment of the abundant riches of your nation. 

 It was a symbol, perhaps, that the toil of your father’s work had borne fruit of great wealth to Talokan and passed down to the generations that would come next.

 The radiant pearl of the sea had finally assumed her reign as heir apparent after a century of her rule by the feathered serpent god’s side, and there was no one in the kingdom who would oppose to the majesty of K’uk’ulkan’s daughter—not because she had the blood of their king in her veins and the feathered ankles that proved her divine lineage—but because of her love for her people and the duties that she had so diligently carried with grace.

 K’uk’ulkan swam to your side and guided you to rest upon your new throne. It was a new feeling for you, one that could not compare to the childish wonder that you had just sitting on the lap of your father when you were still a wee babe. In the high seat of your throne did you overlook the citizens that had adored you, watched as they bowed their heads and put their hands in the likeness of a serpent’s mouth as respect to your inauguration.

 As much as you loved to see your people acknowledge you, you could not find a glimpse of your best friend and secret lover. To you, their opinions were the only ones that mattered. It would not feel as joyous as it is if they were not to witness your greatest achievements. 

 Where were they, you wondered. They promised to be here in time for your ceremony.

 “Something troubles you, in waal.” your father beside you, the feathers from his headpiece tickling the sides of your cheek. You gave him a smile, one that masked your worries, and found comfort in the hands that gripped yours reassuringly.

 “Namora and Attuma are not here,” you supplied him, your eyes scanning the crowd of your people, “I worry for them. They promised they would come.”

 K’uk’ulkan smiles and brings his hand to caress the base of your neck tenderly and rest his decorated forehead on your own. Your breath, which you didn’t realize had become labored, instantly calmed at the mere comfort of your father.

 “Quell your nerves, my daughter. They will come.” With a knowing smile, your father separated himself from you and swam up to sit in the jaws of his own throne. The people all cheered while chanting the words of praise to Talokan’s honor.

 K’uk’ulkan puts his hand up slowly and everyone falls into a hush. The air was still buzzing, the water under your command feeling the energy of everyone’s bated breaths as they awaited the words of their king.

 “We honor the place of my only child as the rightful heir of Talokan. She has proven herself worthy of such a title for a century, and the seas have blessed us with such excellence that no one could dare defy. The future of Talokan is bright.” 

 Your people cheered and hollered, yet your eyes still strain to find your best friend and lover. You tried your best not to feel upset, but you felt a painful twist on your heart.

 Where were they? It was unlike them to break their promises, especially your beloved warrior, Attuma.

 “Not only do we celebrate the coronation of my daughter’s place in my council, but we celebrate the oath of our two new generals.” your father continued, your head snapping up at the familiar silhouette of your secret lover up the grand entrance of your underwater throne room. Your heart settled and you smiled in great pride as your father presented them at last.

 “Namora and Attuma, the new grand generals of Talokan.”

 They extruded such power as they descended ever so slowly, the light of the vibranium sun creating a halo of light around their bodies. They wore new armor that suited their character; the likeness of the spines of a lionfish adorned the body of your best friend, Namora, and the skull of a hammerhead shark and the spikes of its teeth littering every crevice of Attuma’s plated armor. Both of them held their respective weapons made of vibranium, and you could only smile at how proud you were for them.

 You couldn't help but ogle at the sight of your warrior. You had kept your word and waited for him to finally gather his own accomplishments before asking for your hand. But that did not stop you from sneaking off and relishing yourselves in each other’s company. No one had ever suspected anything yet, but you gathered that your people were still under the impression that Attuma only bears one-sided love for you. 

 Oh your poor love, you didn’t mean to make him wait for so long.

 You wondered when he would finally ask for your hand, to finally make your blooming romance known to your father and your citizens. It filled you with warmth just thinking about the possibilities.

 You and Attuma locked eyes as soon as they had finished their descent, his eyes raking across your figure sat on your jeweled throne. He felt the need to kiss you right then and there, a privilege he had not yet taken across the decades of your secret romance in respect to his promise. He dared not touch you so inappropriately when you were not yet his, but he was sure to finally claim you as his own.

 You were a jewel in Attuma’s eyes. A gem fit to be heralded around in great praise to your charm. Although your beauty spoke wonders of your outward appearance, you were a strong warrior, maybe even as strong as Namora. You are wise like your father, and you cared for your kingdom in the ways that a mother would.

 You were crowned princess of Talokan, heir to the throne of K’uk’ulkan’s majesty, and the future queen mother of your nation. 

 Attuma could not even begin to describe in words such a blessing that fell into his hands so tenderly. 

 As soon as they were done taking their oath, bowed before you and K’uk’ulkan to swear their undying fidelity to your nation of Talokan, Attuma and Namora shared one look before your warrior ascended alone, careful to keep his gait below your eyes and on the feet of your throne. Your people fell into a hush, the momentary celebration ceasing to wait for Attuma’s next words.

 “In princesa,” he started, his eyes looking up to lock eyes with your father, “K’uk’ulkan. If I may speak.”

 “Attuma,” he regarded the warrior, his head held high in authority, “what do you wish to say?”

 “My fealty lies with no one but the princess,” he bowed low and presented presented his spear by the jewels that adorned your throne, “the oath I shall take is one reserved to be of service of her, and if she wills me to serve under you, K’uk’ulkan, then I shall do so with no question.”

 You waited with bated breath as your father stood from his throne and descended to stand in front of your warrior. Your heart thumped in your chest as you saw your father inch closer to him, his hand now resting on his shoulders and urging Attuma to rise. 

 “You have done a great deal for the name of my daughter, but the decision is hers to make.” K’uk’ulkan started, his voice carrying nothing but tender command. He turned towards you and beckoned you forward. You did so without question and swam beside your father.

 “Do you accept his oath, in waal?”

 There was no other answer for such a question. It was something that you had dreamed of since the beginning of your blossoming romance, the fantasy that you had always dreamed to come into fruition.

 With a smile that would outshine the stars of the night, you eagerly replied. 

 “I shall accept your oath with open arms, Attuma. My dear warrior.”

 Your people broke into joyous cheers as Attuma rose from his bow. You turned to pick the spear by the feet of your throne and presented it to him with a proud grin. He replied in kind, kissing the vibranium shaft that touched your hand as soon as he had received it. Heat traveled up your neck and into the tips of your pointed ears at the gesture, your fingers wringing together in bashful fluster.

 K’uk’ulkan smiled at the exchange, but he could not help but urge you away from the warrior and back to your throne. He could not help himself—you were far too precious to be in the presence of a man who fancied you all his life.

 The king turned to Attuma and regarded him with a nod and gesture of Talokan’s respect, the warrior replying in kind.

 “Serve her well, Attuma.”

 Before K’uk’ulkan could return to his throne, Attuma rose high and proud, brandishing his weapon only he could ever wield with such power. A show of strength, if you will, that left the people at awe at the display of his prowess.

 “My king! If I may be so bold, I have something to ask of you.” He declared, his voice loud and strong. Your brows furrowed in confusion at such a statement; what else did Attuma need when he had already pledged his service to you?

 You held the urge to giggle when your father turned with an amused chuckle of his own.

 “What is it?”

 Attuma turned towards you, the both of you locking eyes. And in that moment, he sent you an affectionate grin.

 And then realization hit you.

 He wasn’t going to—!

 “I wish for your permission to court your daughter, the princess.” Murmurs and excited gasps spread across the hall. You see Namora grinning to herself staring at Attuma, impressed. Your cheeks burned with heat, your chest pounding at how incredibly mad Attuma was for declaring something as bold as a courting during your coronation as crown heir. 

 But it was something that you absolutely loved about your warrior, no matter how insane he was to declare his desire to court you in front of the entire kingdom.

 Your father stiffened, his eyes steeled and ready to pounce at Attuma. He had to hold himself back—there was no reason for him to needlessly attack his finest warrior just because he expressed his desire to court you. He could not even dismiss such thought; the titles and the achievements of Attuma held far more worth than any man in Talokan. 

 From where it stands, and with your close relationship with the warrior, he was by far the only man worthy of your affection.

 And so, with a reluctance that held every possible threat in the world, K’uk’ulkan replied. 

 “Prove to me your worth, Attuma, for the radiant pearl of the sea does not need an incompetent suitor to court her.”

 “Father!” You hissed quietly. You felt your father’s animosity course through you in waves. You had to resist the urge to groan and sigh; he was so protective of you.

 But Attuma did not seem phased as he spoke steadily.

 “By your will, K’uk’ulkan.”

 In the eyes of your people did you swim beside your father and held his arm reassuringly. His steely gaze finally fell as he looked at you, and you allowed yourself to swim to the level of his ears and whisper, “Please be gentle with Attuma, father. I also bear feelings for him.”

 He looked at you like he was betrayed, but he was not surprised. How could you not have told him about your budding feelings for the warrior?

 Then again, he knew the throes of a woman when it came to sharing their romantic feelings, so he did not blame you for keeping it a secret from him, your own father.

 “How long have you known?”

 “A few decades,” you smiled sheepishly, “do not be so hard on the warrior that I have chosen. He means it in good faith, and he has done nothing to cross any boundaries set by your command.”

 “Are you sure?”

 “I swear it upon my name and crown, father.”

 Your father pondered on your words for a little while longer and resigned with a sigh. You pressed your forehead against your father’s and giggled.

 “Thank you for your leniency, my king.”

 You separated yourself from your father and swam forward to Attuma. He gave you a cheeky grin, one that screamed unapologetic mischief. You shook your head, amused as his antics, as you raised your hand to cup his cheek.

 “My father has given his word; prove to him that you are worthy of my hand so we will be together, my dear warrior.”

 He dared cup your hands that feathered along his strong jaw and leaned into your touch. You could feel your father’s piercing stare, but the both of you ignored it, too engrossed in your own little world in the watchful eyes of your nation.

 “Is that an order?” He asked you, his eyes boring into yours with such intensity that would have sent you immediately to your knees.

 You leaned in close until your lips met the base of his mighty headpiece, the jagged teeth of the hammerhead shark that he had slain digging firmly into the skin of his forehead. When you parted, you stared into his eyes; the eyes that held nothing but veneration to your glorious name. 

 And with a tender whisper to your beloved, you replied.

 “A request.”

Anyone up for a Part 2? >:))

Taglist: @haideehaids  @xnodamsel

#attuma x reader #attuma x poc!reader #attuma #alex livinalli #mcu attuma #mcu namor #tenoch huerta namor #attuma x talokanil!princess!reader #black panther 2 fanfic #black panther #attuma x you #attuma x y/n #k'uk'ulkan #dad!namor #bpwf #attuma x fem!reader #namora #mcu namora #attuma fic #namor fic #attuma of talokan #namor of talokan

[firemenenthusiast]

i dont know how to describe this but please give tenoch huerta more feather jewellery for him to wear i dont care what type as long as theyre feather cuz it suits him ssoooo well like that one photoshoot where he wears that feathery earpiece LORD HAVE MERCY he looks so good

with that, i rest my case

#tenoch huerta #tenoch huerta namor #tenoch huerta photoshoot #tenoch huerta imagine #tenoh huerta fanfic #namor smut #namor imagine #namor fluff #namor x y/n #namor x you #namor x reader #namor the sub mariner #namor #black panther 2 fluff #black panther 2 #black panther wakanda forever #black panther #this man is going to be the death of me #yet i do say that about many men #currently its tenoch #tenoch huerta gif #tenoch huerta pic

[valninja]

“Then keep me instead... I’d love to see your nation.”

“You can’t come down there in that.”

#shunamor #namuri #seaprincess #shuri x namor #namor x shuri #shuri #namor of talokan #black panther 2 spoilers #wakanda forever spoilers #wakanda forever #black panther 2 #like namor shut up #YOU DRESSED HER IN THAT #shuri said yes I would like to go on a date with you #the fanfic writes itself tbh #namor really thought about keeping her #SIR

[itaintenough]

m’baku, under his breath: future husband says what

namor: what?

m’baku: [screeches internally]

#m’baku was down bad for him #he was literally reading fanfics of him #up in the mountains #black panther #black panther 2 #black panther wakanda forever #m’baku #winston duke #jabari #wakanda #namor #tenoch huerta #tenoch #kukulkan #talokan #black panther incorrect quotes #incorrect black panther quotes #black panther imagines

[acontrariis]

⸺ alta mar

r. Namor x Mutant!Reader

wc. 4.2k

d i s c l a i m e r. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Mentions of human trafficking. Mentions of physical and mental abuse. Death. Mutant Powers. Pining. Third Person POV.

n o t e. highly recommend listening to The Lighthouse - Halsey, big inspo for Reader.

→ a o 3 [link]

⸺ gif credit [here]

The sea is quiet tonight.

Too quiet for his taste, in fact. The wandering fishes seemed to be hiding in the dark, afraid to be seen, to make too much noise. The life in Talocan went on as usual, the people relishing in the comfort the well-earned peace brought. Yet, there was an uneasiness in his heart, a warning that something was happening close to his home.

Namor had the practice of roaming the ocean, he made it part of his routine to explore and help wherever he could, to make the underwater life as better as it could be. After hundreds of years on this planet, he felt a connection to the ocean as that of a limb, a part of him he prayed never to lose. So, as any other night, he made his rounds in the deserted land. This time, paying close attention to everything in sight. It didn’t take long for him to find the source of his worry.

A foreign cargo ship stood on the motionless tide. The engines off, the place deserted. As his head came out of the water, he noticed the lack of breeze. It was as if time had frozen. He would almost think there was no life inside, an abandoned boat in the middle of nowhere, had it not been for warmth still present in the walls from the force of the movement, and the frantic heartbeats that echoed inside. For a moment, he simply stood there, floating in the salty water. It was not for him to meddle in the affairs of the surface, and he didn’t particularly care for them, as long as they didn’t affect his people.

The quietness, however, ended as abruptly as it had started. In a fraction of a second, the winds picked up with herculean strength. The ship rocked violently as the water shook furiously around it, giant waves started to form. He started in awe, quickly moving away from the chaos, flying to safety away from the grasps of the ocean. It was not missed how the commotion centered in one place, an invisible line separating the ring from the rest of the ocean. He couldn’t pinpoint where the culprit was, except that they were inside the wrecking ship.

The screams filled the air, along with the metallic scent of blood. As if the hands of the goddess herself emerged from the depths of the ocean, the waves ripped the vessel in two as a dozen armed men fell into the water, dragged down without a chance to ever come out for breath again. Another dozen or so of chained women and children fell into the water, their lifeless bodies floating in the storm and in the middle of the commotion, a single body stood out to him.

Her turquoise eyes glowed like gems in the dark of the night, the most beautiful color he’d ever seen. Deadly glimmer. Her own body fell and as she struggled with what he thought were certainly her survival instincts kicking in, a grin adorned her face. He could hear the loud pumping of her heart, almost reaching its limit. She didn’t have long to live, and the blood pouring out of her mouth was proof of it. With the last of her strength, she made sure every man in uniform was engulfed in darkness, before her piercing eyes shut the light he was so desperate to catch.

⸺

Darkness and the whooshing sound of the wind was all her senses could pick up. As if waking up from a deep sleep, her limbs numb and too weak to even try to move, little by little her consciousness started to awaken. The burn in her eyes and the dryness of her mouth tells that she wasn't as dead as expected. The woman could feel the blood pumping through her veins, the beating of her heart accelerating with every shallow breath she took and as she finally managed to open her eyes, the panic started to take over.

Unable to move, she could still feel everything: the cold stone surface she was lying on, the soft cloth covering her, the dull ache from the previous beatings she had taken not long ago. A pair of hands came to her aid, as her mind was starting to drift into hysteria, they covered her shoulders and softly spoke in a calming voice. The words weren’t something she could decipher, as it was a language unknown, but soon she found herself mimicking the unknown woman’s breathing, her smile a soft approval. What she assumed was medicine was poured down her throat and for a moment she allowed herself to relax, tears of relief rolling down her cheeks.

It was impossible to tell how much time passed, there were zero changes that could give away the time of day, let alone the passage of it. The only constant was the caretaker, she didn’t know her name and after several failed attempts to communicate, she decided she didn’t really need to know. Several days could have passed, a routine now formed: wake up, drink the medicine, eat whatever she could. Her wounds healed faster than ever before, the constant pain now a faint memory. Everyday they would wash her, clean the scratches left on her body and dress her up. After that, they would help her up and start “exercising”.

The movement of her limbs didn’t come as easily as one would expect. This is what she imagined rehabilitation would look like. It was strange. On one hand, she felt better than ever. The bruises on her body were fading, her skin softer, she didn’t throw up everything that was fed to her anymore either. On the other hand, her body felt foreign, like an infant learning the basic functions, she stumbled and fell in the arms of the women surrounding her. Celebrating each little victory, picking up new words and expressions to get through the day and feeling a pair of watching eyes monitoring her every movement.

After the relief settled and she reluctantly accepted perhaps these people won’t hurt her, the questions started to pile up. She knew she should be dead. She had made peace with it. As she made sure all the bastard’s had their lungs filled with salty water, she decided to join them in hell. Anything better than being stuck in that tin cage and being used as a circus trick. So then, how did she end up here? And where (and what) exactly is here? What if she was actually dead? What if this was just some sick dream before she started to burn for her sins or something like that? What if this was like her personal purgatory? What if they were feeding her so they could sacrifice her to some weird god in a volcano?

Needless to say, most of her questions remained unanswered for some time. Apparently, this place was called Talocal and, at least for now, they would not turn her to their god. K'uk'ulkan. No volcano for now. She was introduced to some women who spoke English, and as her recovery progressed, her understanding of her surroundings also improved. Soon enough, she was walking on her own, the long desired sense of independence little by little took root in her, feeling safe perhaps for the first time in her life.

There was one thing she desperately wanted to ask, what everyone seemed to intentionally avoid: how did she end up here? They filled her days with stories about their god, the old legends and the bedtime stories that embodied pieces of their knowledge. They also taught her how to tell time in there, and informed she had been in Talocan for two weeks now, half of it was her deep in slumber, while the worst of her injuries had still not passed.

It was easy to notice how they never truly left her by herself. Even if they allowed her to explore some rooms and ask some questions, it was very clear there were lines drawn. That, and the constant feeling of being watched. She couldn’t quite pinpoint where exactly it was coming from, but she knew there was someone, not human, watching every step she made. It took another week for her to get the answers she was looking for.

⸺

The day started ordinary, as any other. Her wounds had long been healed, and her condition far improved, so the women around her felt more like babysitters than caretakers now. As part of her new found routine, she sat by the little pond that connected the cave to the ocean. She had been warned not to dive in, for her body couldn’t withstand the pressure. By now, three weeks had passed since she arrived, and as grateful as she was for their attentions, it was still unclear why exactly they were giving them to her. Frankly, she was starting to feel like an animal in a cage, a feeling she was well accustomed with and to which she refused to go back.

In one of those rare moments where the women’s attention wasn't on her, she decided it was time to test what’s the worst that could happen. She knew someone was watching, but it wasn’t those she could see. So, what would it do if she tried to go into the water? Will it show itself or let me die? Letting me die after going through all this trouble seems unlikely, and it’s about time I find out what exactly these people want with me. Trying to make as little fuss as possible, as if it was simply a little stretch, she took one deep breath and jumped in the water, the exalted shouts left unheard.

Swim, just swim.

It was hard to see, pitch black as it was the deeper she dived, but that feeling never left her. She knew they were there with her. Now, her body seemed okay, something she didn’t really question, as focused as she was in trying to find something, anything besides the dark that engulfed her. Just when she was starting to panic, not knowing how long it had been since she took a breath, he appeared before her. At first she didn’t see him, a mere silhouette as her eyes tried to get used to the absence of clarity, she felt his hands surrounding her. A familiar presence that, without her knowing how to explain why, brought her calm.

She wasn’t sure how, but she heard his voice, instructing her to open her mouth, let instincts take over and stop holding her breath. Before stopping to question it, she did as he said. Scientists would have a field day with her now. There was no clear explanation, but she was okay. Her lungs weren’t filling with water, her bones were not being crushed by the pressure, her eyes were adapting to the darkness as if her body was slowly adapting to this new environment and she couldn’t help but let out the bubbled laugh of ecstasy. She could swear she saw him smile, even if for just a second. It’s what she thought as he quickly pulled them back to the cave and out of the water.

He didn’t let her out of his arms for a second, calmly carried her through the corridors and into a bedroom she had yet to see before. The murmurs in the background, no doubt discussing her latest transgression, were mere noise as she observed him. He didn’t look like anyone she had ever seen before, there was a softness in his eyes as he returned her gaze that made her feel like she could stay in that position for all eternity. It almost made her smile, if she didn’t think she would look like an absolute lunatic she maybe would have. Reluctantly, he let her go once they reached the closed quarters. Signaling her to move to what she assumed would be a bathroom, she quickly changed out of her wet clothes to go back to his side.

The former naked figure was now covered too, his towering form an intimidating image. She didn’t know what to say, and he watched her as if she were an unstable animal, too much pressure and they would break. Curiosity soon won and she broke the silence.

“K'uk'ulkan?” The hesitance in her voice was not missed by him, a clear tell along with the tilt of her head.

“That’s one of my names, yes. It’s a pleasure to officially meet you. I see you’re doing better.”

“My guess is that’s thanks to you? I… There’s a lot of holes in my memory. For one, I do not understand how I can possibly be here… alive… I have considered that this is just some sort of dream and I’m actually dead somewhere in the bottom of the ocean.”

She tried to pass the last part as a joke with an awkward smile, but he didn’t seem to like that.

“I will explain everything in due time. First, I need to know what you are. I saw what you did back there, those people on the ship… There wasn’t a single survivor, but you. I need to know if you’ll be a threat to my people.”

She avoided his gaze and walked around the table, setting some space between them. Her hands softly caressed the material as a sad smile adorned her face.

“You brought me here without first making sure I wasn’t dangerous? Sloppy, sloppy.”

The comment hit him like a lance through the chest, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t already heard from Namora and Attuma, but an outsider questioning his behavior made it that much worse. He didn’t sense any hostility from her, though. Her snarky comments may be a way to buy some time, it couldn’t be easy to talk about what happened. So he would take it, the comments, the attitude… Hell, she could hit him if she wanted, he would take anything she was willing to give him.

“They said something about a mutation in my blood. I never met my parents, so I don’t know where it came from or why it started, I just know it happened at a very young age.”

As she started to explain, the tension in her body worsened. He wanted to calm her down, he wished she would make another comment to annoy him, anything but the pained expression. If he was truly honest, he wanted to see her eyes glow once more, he wanted to see her smile full of life, just for him.

“The… The boat… We were being transported to a new facility. They didn’t say where, but I assume it was the same as the others, some underground establishment where they sold the precious goods”

Waving at her body, a sigh left her. Namor clenched his teeth, for a moment he wished they’d survived so he could kill them again.

“What you saw was the first time I used it like that.” She explained how in between the daily beatings, one of the electric rods came into contact with her collar, causing a malfunction that allowed her to use her powers.

“I didn’t mean to hurt the others too… but we were all dead either way…”

As the explanation progressed, he asked her what her powers entitled, and she told him it was better to see it. Her eyes glowed as the joyful shrieks coming from outside filled the place.

There was snow.

It was snowing.

In a cave.

In the caribbean.

In the middle of the ocean.

“What? You thought you were the only freak in town? I mean, maybe in this town… Hate to break your bubble, big guy.”

With his astonishment, her smile had returned, the previous tension put aside. He cleared his throat, a rebel smile forming in his face.

“Well, there are some conditions to this arrangement we have to discuss.”

“What arrangement?”

“…Me saving you.”

“I don’t remember asking you to do it, though.”

The baffled look on his face almost made her laugh, it’s not that she was ungrateful or that she was against any and all conditions he wanted to set. He helped her and she would never forget that or take it for granted, but she needed to make her point.

“Hear me out. I sincerely thank you for what you did, but I never asked for it. This is not an arrangement, you made a decision on your own and now have to face the consequences. I didn’t make any deal with you.”

The annoyance was clear on his face, and the more she spoke the more that turned into silent rage.

“So would you rather I leave you there to die?”

“I didn’t say that. I just want you to acknowledge it was you who decided that, not me. You cannot forever treat me as someone who is indebted to you, when I didn’t ask for anything. I am not one of your subjects out there, I don’t know anything about you, so why should I follow along with whatever you ask?”

Her attitude was absurd to him, and he truly hated to admit she may have a point. It had been centuries since someone challenged him like this. Even Namora, as doubtful as she could be at times, always followed his commands. It was sort of… refreshing… and infuriatingly annoying.

“I don’t see how you have much of a choice now that you’re here. I cannot let you leave as you please.”

“I didn’t say that either.”

“So what exactly are you saying?”

He was exasperated and she was having fun, he could see the glint in her eyes and the way she bit her lower lip trying so hard not to smile. For a second he wondered how her soul survived all the pain she undoubtedly suffered. Her humor was wickedly clever and had a hint of innocence that gave him comfort. He couldn’t help but thank whatever it was that kept her alive, and not the empty shell of a broken woman.

“I would like you to start by explaining to me what happened, why you brought me here and what exactly it is you’re expecting from me.”

He couldn’t admit the instant attraction he felt for her. He couldn’t say that, that night it felt as if a voice was calling for him and it guided him right to her. He couldn’t tell her he wanted her since the moment his eyes laid on her. And he most certainly couldn’t tell her how desperate he was for her to stay here with him, forever. So, he stuck with the facts, she was the only survivor of a tragedy, there was no one else he could have saved had he wanted to (which he didn’t).

He felt intrigued by her strength and the resolve she showed in what could have been her last moments. Due to the gravity of her wounds and the grave blood loss, she was given a transfusion of his blood, which proved to be effective in healing her and that would explain how she didn’t die from going into the ocean without any protection.

“Now, there is one condition to me saving your life…”

“Mmm, here it comes.”

His glare met her smile as she blinked feigning innocence.

“… You must reside here. Without my direct permission, you cannot leave Talocan.”

A minute of silence turned into two, and the longer it passed, the stiffness of his body worsened. He expected her to fight, she knew nothing about him or his world, she wouldn’t care about it, she could leave, but he couldn’t let her, he couldn’t risk it, but what if…

“Okay.”

The short response took him by surprise and stopped his spiraling thoughts.

“Okay?”

“Sure.”

He didn’t understand and the mistrust showed on his face, almost making her laugh. She shrugged her shoulders as she looked for the best words to explain it.

“I’ve been a prisoner my entire life. My first memory is of me being asked to twirl the water in a glass, and then being hit with its shards after I accidentally broke said glass…”

He flinched at the story and she smiled, knowing he empathized with her, felt somewhat warm.

“…So it’s fair to say, my memories of the surface are far from pleasant. If anything, they can be quite triggering. In addition to that, I was ready to die.” She pauses so he understands she means every word and his jaw clenches at her resolve. “I never expected to live any other life than the one I was living, because every day I prayed it would all end and I could finally get some rest. So this…” She waves at their surroundings “…was never a possibility I considered.”

“Still, you could wish for your freedom… Travel to different places…”

“But I can still do that, can I? You never said I could never leave, you said I needed your permission and, as it turns out, I can be very convincing” The wink she gave him almost made him cave in, but he still couldn’t bring himself to trust she would stay. It couldn’t be that easy.

“You’ll just be a prisoner here. A different type of prison, but it can come to trap you too and you’ll hate it. You’ll hate me for it.”

That made her pause, he sounded almost… afraid? She understood the mistrust, but fear of being hated was unexpected.

“Then say, will you imprison me? Decorate my body with pretty purple bruises and chain me in a room until you decide you wanna be entertained by the freak?”

“Of course not!” His answer came as a roar, the floor beneath them shaking

“There’s your answer.” She took a breath and stared directly into his eyes. “What I’m saying is, I’m deciding to trust you. So you should try and trust me a little bit too. I don’t think you will ever betray me, for the simple fact that you know I can destroy this entire place, even if I have to die in the process, and you will never risk your subjects like that. So, we can work together. Deal?”

She extended her hand to him, his eyes never leaving her, his piercing gaze examining her. After what felt like an eternity, the awkward silence filling the space, he took her hand in his and shook her, starting their new life together.

⸺

As he established his conditions, so did she. She would need a teacher and a guide, they already confirmed she wouldn’t die from the pressure or lack of oxygen, so she wanted to fully explore his kingdom. She also wanted to learn the language, so she would need someone to teach her. She also wanted to be given a job. Preferably something that helped her learn more about their system and the way they lived. Lastly, she wanted to explore the outside world at least once a month, for a full day, but this could start once he started trusting her a bit more. Namor was pleasantly surprised at her demands, a chuckle leaving him as she listed them.

It was surprisingly easy for them to fall into a routine. Namor wanted to spend as much time as he could with her, so of course he became her companion. He taught her everything there was to know about the way they lived, their customs and traditions, the love and respect they had for their home and for each other. Little by little, they became essential parts in each other’s lives, even if they refused to admit it. Unfortunately, the nightmares that were once kept at bay by the medicine, quickly came back when she least expected it.

The first one came like a storm, wrecking the delicate sense of peace she had come to feel during the past weeks. The engulfing darkness gave her an added loneliness, her body shaking in anguish as her sobs echoed through the walls. The tortuous tossing and turning made her fall, the hit not strong enough to wake her terror. The cloth covering her body now entangled with her limbs, a different form of restraint. Her broken cries, similar to a wounded animal, soon awoke Namor, who ran to her side.

He quickly took her in his arms, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, trying to calm her down even when she resisted and fought. The bindings of her legs were undone, her hair moved aside, her burning forehead wet as drops of water rolled down her body. Unsuccessful in his efforts to calm her, he picked her up and swiftly moved outside and into the water, just enough for it to cover her legs, he sat by the entrance and held her, reassuring her she was safe, he got her now, nothing would happen to her here. After what felt like hours, her breathing slowed down, her eyes focused on him as the sobs faded into soft hiccups.

His relief smile blinded her and for a moment, she couldn’t say a word, as he wiped the tears from her snot filled face.

“You’re back?” A soft hmm was all the response he received. He didn’t let go of her, they could’ve stayed there for hours, eventually she drifted back to sleep, at peace in the arms that were holding her.

comments and reblogs are very much encouraged! ♡

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[giodoodless]

Ryan was cooking y'all

NAMOR WAS GONNA SMILE AND LOOK AT SHURI AS IF THEY MET BEFORE???? [incoherent sounds]

#RYAN HANDLE ME UR NAMURI FANFIC RIGHT NOW AND UR AO3 ACC I KNOW YOU HAVE IT #MY GOD WE COULD HAVE HAD IT ALL 😭😭😭 #wakanda forever #wakanda forever spoilers #black panther wakanda forever #black panther #black panther spoilers #bp 2 #bpwf #bpwf spoilers #shuri #queen ramonda #ramonda #shuri udaku #shuri black panther #mcu shuri #princess shuri #shuri x namor #namor x shuri #namor #namor the sub mariner #namor of talokan #mcu namor #namuri #nashuri #seaprincess #tenoch huerta #letitia wright #queen shuri #letitia wright shuri

[acciopietro]

doctor pt. 3

pairing: namor x fem! reader

summary: you take an opportunity despite the repercussions. namor’s determination to protect his people blinds him.

part one part two part four

word count: 6,939

tw: lots and lots of death. forced suicide (because of the talokanil sirens). the typically stuff. lots of angsty and sadness

a/n: i was listening to happiness is a butterfly while writing so this took a turn for sure... it took a hot minute but i hope you enjoy nonetheless!! i’m nervous ab this so pls let me know your honest opinions...it kind of took a turn 

part one part two

IT REALLY ONLY TOOK ONE email to make your heart drop. It was a phone call and a series of texts, too, but it was the email that did it for you. Arial, Size 12 font, formal greeting, body paragraph, half-hearted thank you, polite goodbye. Signed Doctor Reynolds, Ph.D., with the name of your team and company. Message subject: Wakanda.

You read it with vigilant eyes, still hands resting on the metal of your laptop, blue light from the screen casting a cool glow onto your tired skin. The music in your earbuds continued to play, but the sound of The Weeknd wasn’t helping calm the way your heart’s steady beat began to pick up. The words on the email flashed out at you as if they were bolded: Wakanda, harvesting, vibranium, testing, trip. Trip?

“Hi, Doctor Reynolds,” you spoke casually into your telephone, despite your palms sweating around the handle of it. Twisting the coiled cord of it with your index finger, you said, “Yeah, I just got the email. I just had some questions...”

Long story short, a team of marine scientists had ventured into the pacific, delving into the deep seas in search of the vibranium you had found a little over a year ago. You had abandoned that research per Namor’s (tacit) request (more like demand), however, you had known that it was bound to be looked at at some point. The issue was that ships were now apparently being hijacked, their tracking machines being destroyed under water as well as large groups of scientists somehow falling off ship and into the waters to their tragic death. No one knew why.

Reynolds believed Wakanda had something to do with it. He believed that since they were well known for being the sole producers and protectors of all the Earth’s vibranium, he was under the impression that they were trying to stop the United States scientists from harvesting it. Which, you had thought to yourself, would be plausible considering the United States was notorious for taking things that weren’t necessarily theirs.

“Why are we getting involved?” you asked Reynold, gripping your scalp anxiously as you listened to Reynolds explain the situation. “It’s not like if we take a boat out there, we, somehow, will miraculously end up okay. If boats are being hijacked, then... oh, I don’t know...”

Reynold went on and on.

“Wait... you mean to tell me that you already booked it?” you shrilled. “Please excuse me if I’m stepping out of line here, but it’s very likely that our boat will just get hijacked, too. And besides, why do we care so much about vibranium, again? It doesn’t harm any marine life or ecosystems...”

Reynolds spewed a bunch of nonsensical answers, beating around the bush and never quite landing on the reason you know was true: getting money and getting power. Often the root of many of Reynolds’s aspirations.

“You’re more than welcome to deny the job,” Reynold says. “But I’ve decided that I want you on that boat. You’re a useful member of this team. Whether you like it or not, this could be very big.”

You clenched your jaw. “I’ll think about it.”

“You’ve got a week.”

You had only been home from Yucatán for one month. You had a wonderful four months of being with your sister and her family in the days and sneaking off with your man from the sea at night. You couldn’t have gotten closer to Namor; well, unless he took off his shorts and... well, you wouldn’t let him do it, anyways. He had asked. A few times. More than a few times. But for some reason, you just couldn’t do it. For starters, you weren’t on the pill and you were sure there wasn’t contraception under the sea (you asked if he had a condom one time, and he asked you what language that word was in. For someone who is immortal, he sure didn’t know a lot). 

You felt like sleeping with him for real for real would make things realer. It made him more of a commitment, gave him more power. And you told yourself you wouldn’t let it happen unless you were absolutely sure that he deserved it. It was really hard to say no sometimes, though. He sure knew how to persuade you.

Accepting the job and getting on the damn boat would for sure cause an issue if Namor found out. You didn’t want to search for vibranium, especially knowing the damage it would do to Wakanda if the United States got access to such a resource, and to Talokan if the States got knowledge of their existence. But... Reynolds personally invited you, and it could do wonders for your career if it went well. 

“I don’t see why not,” your sister said when you told her of your predicament the next day. “I mean, I understand the hesitation, especially if boats are being hijacked. But who knows, maybe they’ll get an Avenger and put them on board with you to keep you safe. Hopefully it’s Captain America.”

“As much as I’d love to have Sam Wilson on a boat with me for two weeks, I’m still not sure,” you groaned, plopping down onto your couch and opening up your laptop, the blue light hitting your face as you held your phone against your ear with your shoulder. Scrolling through the news, you said, “It just feels like a thing just for money. And, like, yeah, it is, but I... wait a second...”

You stopped scrolling, eyes casting across the headline of the latest CNN article, your lips falling apart. Wakanda’s King T’Challah dead at 41.

“Oh my gosh,” you breathed. Your sister asked you what it was on the other side of the phone, and you hastily forwarded the article to hear. She cursed, and both of you fell silent as you read. “Jesus Christ. I can’t go on that boat.”

---

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU won’t get on the boat?” asked Reynolds the followed week when you went into office. You shook your head, clenching your jaw.

“King T’Challah just died,” you told him matter-of-factly. “And if there really is more vibranium out there, and the States gets access to it, that’ll do a lot of damage to Wakanda.”

“We are not giving the States access to it,” Reynolds furrowed his brow, the hair of his grey mustache fluttering as he spoke. “We’re just figuring out how much of its in the water. It’s not our job to start harvesting it, that’s up to Archeology.”

“It doesn’t matter who does what,” you said feverishly. “We’re still helping do something that will eventually lead to bad things for Wakanda. And I don’t feel comfortable doing that, especially after their king just passed away.”

Reynolds narrowed his eyes at you, and said nothing before circling around to his desk and clicking the mouse of his computer. You blinked, watching him search around for something with a stern face. You waited a minute for him to speak, and when he didn’t, you cleared your throat.

“Sir..?”

“Look, L/N,” Reynolds looked at you from over his bifocals. “I understand where you stand on these more... well, political aspects of the job. But this is a big opportunity I’m offering you. If you decline, fine, but I’ll know that you’re not up to the task. I’ll give the job to Quade.”

You clenched your jaw, feeling something bubble in your stomach. Ugh, you thought. Quade. He was the worst. You knew it was wrong to take this job. Morally, it was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Okay,” you sighed defeatedly. “I’ll... I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Reynolds gave you a nod and stopped typing. He pressed the delete button and held it down. “I can get rid of this email to Quade then. We leave Friday. Back your bags and tell your family you love ‘em.”

---

UNDER THE THRASHING WAVES OF the Gulf of Mexico sat a king on his throne, his forearms resting on his strong, tensed thighs as he read a piece of torn paper. He had to put the paper under pieces of surface-dweller plastic so the pages didn’t fall apart under the water, but even still, the ink had smeared a bit. Nonetheless, Namor sat, his jaw clenched, and he read.

Namor, the letter read. 

Hopefully this letter got to you all right-- my niece isn’t always too reliable. I’m writing to you in an attempt to explain myself so you don’t find out from other sources. Some people from my team will be sailing out into the Gulf with another team that’s mining for vibranium. I wanted to deny the job, but I need to take whatever opportunities they throw my way if I want to keep my head above water. I’m going to do my best to protect you and your people, but there’s only so much I can do. I’m sorry. Really, I am. If there’s anything I can do that you can think of (without totally tarnishing my reputation and/or getting fired), find a way to let me know, and I’ll do it. Again, I’m really sorry. I hope you can forgive me. Hopefully I’ll see you soon.

Sincerely Apologetically Love

From, Y/N

Namor gripped the paper tight between his calloused, jewelry covered hands. Lifting his head, he glanced up at his people, the civilization they had built together, the vibranium everyone wore. He glanced at the chest plate he wore, the cuffs around his arms, at the vibranium he wore. It was everything.

He clenched his jaw, bowing his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. He laid the paper down on his lap, squeezing his eyes shut to think. 

“Namora!” he called out hastily, and after a little over a minute, the woman emerged into the space and walked up to him, standing before his throne. She knelt, opening up her palms to him in a greeting before standing up. “K'abéet in actualizaciones yóok'ol le láak' rastreador. Yaan in biin ta wéetel (I need updates on the next tracker. I’ll be going with you).”

---

THE DRIVE TO THE PORT was peaceful, palm trees swaying in the breeze and reminding you that, although it wasn’t Mexico, you were appreciative for the beauty and pleasantries of the place you lived in. Florida, with all of its ups and downs-- and you meant all of them-- was nice. The giant boat was astonishing once your Uber pulled up. People were hustling and bustling about the port, and you simply stared up at the giant ship, clutching the strap of your bag and admiring its beauty.

“Ah, Doctor L/N, good to see you. All packed?” asked Doctor Mishra, one of the men of the group who you actually liked to be around. You were thankful he was on the trip. “Boat’s giant, no?”

“Oh, yeah,” you whistled. “Y’know, I’ve never been on a boat like this.”

“I’ve been on a couple of cruises,” Doctor Mishra told you. “Wonderful vacations. However, we will not be waited on on this boat.”

“Fine with me,” you shrugged. “Do we just... go inside, or what?”

“Not sure,” he said. Smiling, he heaved his duffel bag over his shoulder and said, “Let’s find out!

Everything went smoothly for the first week and three days. All the men had to share rooms with at least one other person, and you were lucky enough that everyone agreed that you should have the single room. Your research seemed to be going fairly, however, you never caught a glimpse of the research of the others aside from Doctor Mishra, who you were doing a lot of your work with these days.

One evening, after a nice warm shower, you ventured out onto the deck of the ship, letting the ocean breeze cool your warm cheeks. You caught a glimpse, however, of Dr. Reynolds and Bernstein exchanging words on the deck, standing quite close and speaking under their breaths. You crept closer around the corner, trying to eavesdrop. 

“We found it around thirty-five miles from the west tip of Cuba, so we’re thinking if we move closer towards Cancún and Yucatán and all that, we’ll find more,” Bernstein said quietly but firmly. Reynolds nodded his head in understanding.

“But what of the machines?” he asked. “The last one was destroyed, you said, signal lost?”

“Something’s hungry down there,” Bernstein shrugged. “Or however far down the vibranium is, it’s too deep for our computers. We need higher tech to harvest it.”

Your stomach turned. The team wasn’t supposed to be thinking about harvesting vibranium. Reynolds had told you that was up to Archaeology. You gulped and kept listening, fighting the urge to jump out and ask a million questions.

"I’m in contact with some people up north who’ve got new stuff that could work,” Reynolds scratched his white beard pensively. “They’ve had limited success too, but it could be helpful.”

“Us getting this vibranium could change the game,” Bernstein said emphatically. “I mean, can you imagine if the government realized we had this stuff? They’d pay us a lot of money to take it off our hands.”

“This is more than just money, Bernstein,” Reynolds said lowly. “If Wakanda found out that the States got hold of the one thing they’ve got on us? We’re back on top.”

“Holy shit,” Bernstein ran a hand through his oily blonde hair and grinned. “I went into the right profession, that’s for damn sure!”

“Yes, well, let’s just see what the other men have gathered in the past week and compare,” Reynolds told him. “Maybe there’s something right under our noses that we haven’t noticed.”

You clenched your jaw and stepped out from behind the corner. You squeezed a fist in one hand to prevent yourself from lashing out, and it wasn’t until you cleared your throat that the two men noticed you.

“Oh, L/N!” Reynolds gave a gasp of surprise and then a chuckle. “Wasn’t expecting you to be out so late. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“I don’t have a bedtime, sir, I’m a grown woman,” you said firmly. “But you’ve got about twenty years on me, so I’m confused as to why you’re not in bed either.”

Bernstein and Reynolds shared a glance.

“I’m also confused about all this I’m hearing about harvesting vibranium,” you said, not saying anything for a heartbeat to give them room to defend themselves. “I didn’t think that was what we were doing here. I also thought that as a team we were supposed to be, I don’t know, working together?”

“Look, L/N, you’ve got your own research, and so do we. We chose not to include you because you, for some reason, seemed very against delving deeper into this vibranium business,” Reynolds explained in a slow and calm voice as if he were speaking to a child. “This could be very lucrative for us and helpful for American forces.”

“You’re hiding shit from everyone,” you spat.

“No, I’m not,” Reynolds sneered. “Just from you.”

As if someone had pressed a button, all of a sudden Reynolds and Bernstein stood upright, their faces blank, eyes fogged over. You furrowed your brow and snapped in front of the former's face. A song began to echo the ship, as if someone was playing it on the loudspeakers, and you glanced around as if to see if someone else noticed it. 

You glanced up to the top deck, where a man stood next to a large scope. He was walking very uniformly, his face blank as well, and you watched as he continued to walk and walk and walk until--

You screamed bloody murder. The man walked until he reached the railing, where he hopped over it and simply threw himself off the ledge and into the depths of the ocean below. Breathing heavily, you whipped yourself around and watched as Reynolds, mesmerized by the song, began to walk towards the railing, Bernstein at his heels.

“No!” you cried, grabbing ahold of Reynolds’s arm to hold him back; he thrashed himself out of your grasp and climbed over the railing. You grappled at the back of his shirt, trying to tug him back, but he too, like a rag doll, plummeted into the crashing waves below. Bernstein was looming closer to the railing, and you wrapped your arms around his torso to hold him back.

You kept seeing men out of the corner of your eyes walk over the edge and throw themselves into the sea. You hadn’t realized it, but tears were pricking out of the corners of your eyes as you mustered up all your strength to try and hold Bernstein back from the edge.

“Snap-- out-- of-- it!” you cried, and brought one of your hands to slap him clean across the face. To no avail. Balling up a fist, you let go of him and stood between him and the railing; you wound up your arm and socked him clean across the face, to which he toppled onto his back. Blood was now seeping from his nose, but at least he wasn’t walking to his death. 

You squinted out into the sea, to try and figure out the source of the sound, but all you saw was the water and the midnight blue horizon. A groan from behind you alerted your attention; you dropped to your knees, shaking Bernstein awake.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you cried. He wiped his nose, the blood staining the sleeve of his white shirt.

“You fuckin’ punched me!” Bernstein muffled, sitting upright and punching you straight across the face, hard enough for you to topple back onto the deck. He got to his feet, and as if nothing had happened, his face became blank again. You groaned, sitting upright and clutching your bleeding nose as he walked towards the railing again. 

“No, no-- stop!” you called out, getting to your feet, but it was too late; Bernstein climbed over the railing and fell face first into the ocean. You saw the tail of a dolphin in the distance as his body disappeared, and you squeezed your eyes shut, covering your face with your hands, blood from your nose seeping through your fingers. “Jesus christ, what the fuck? What the actual fuck? What the fuck is happening?”

SPLASH! You drew your hands away from your face, and to your horror, saw the fins of sharks circling around the boat, the occasional tale of a dolphin, or the splashes of other marine life you couldn’t identify from so far away. The beating of your heart was so fast that at this rate you were sure you could die of a heart attack. Unable to take your eyes away from the sea of troubles below you, you were terrified to see the body of a whale rise close enough to the surface for you to see, and what shocked you the most was the outline of a person riding on its back. Your jaw dropped.

Without a second thought, you sprinted towards the hatch that led to the inside of the ship. You ran at top speed across the creaky wooden floor until you reached your room, grabbing your bag that held your journal, your phone, your laptop, and your camera. A knock at your door made you jump and almost yelp.

“It’s just me,” it was Doctor Mishra, his hair disheveled and his eyes wild. He had on a large pair of earmuffs. “Are you okay? Your nose is bleeding!”

“No!” you practically screeched. “I just fucking watched the entire crew kill themselves!”

“Everyone?”

“Well, I don’t know about everyone,” you stammered, shoving anything and everything important to you into your bag. You grabbed the printed map of the gulf, with annotations and drawings and other kinds of markings, and rolled it quickly before shoving it into your bag. Picking up your taser, you blinked at it before shoving it into your bag, too. “Bernstein and Reynolds are gone, same with the rest of the crew on the deck, and the man from the mast, and the--”

“Slow down,” Mishra said to you, squatting down next to you and handing you his handkerchief for your nose. “There’s almost no signal, and the only ways we can send out an S.O.S. are either from the red flare device on the mast, or by the radio in the control room.”

“Okay,” you breathed, putting the straps of your bag over your shoulders and tightening it so it wouldn’t fall off, wiping your nose despite it continuing to bleed. “But... what if we get all weird too and try and walk off?”

“Here,” Mishra fumbled with something in his pocket: wired earbuds. “Plug them into your phone and blast some music. Should do the trick. My earmuffs worked pretty well.”

You grabbed the earbuds from him, untangling them before plugging them into your ears. Grabbing your phone, you shuffled a playlist and turned up the volume. Mishra beckoned you to follow him out the door, to which you complied, Tyler, the Creator’s “ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?” blaring from the earbuds. Not the time, you thought, but you couldn’t afford to stand there a pick a good song for the occasion.

“I’ll head up to the mast,” you offered. “The control room is safer for you since it’s pretty contained.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “The mast is insanely high, you could get hurt.”

You clenched your jaw. “It’s fine. I’ll send out the flares. Good luck, okay?”

“Take care of yourself,” Mishra told you firmly. “Meet back on the deck in ten minutes or so.”

You nodded and turned, sprinting back up onto the deck and opening the hatch. There were people on the deck, with beautiful feathered headdresses and jaded armor. You stared at them for a moment, but before they could see you, you ran behind one of the poles, trying to focus on getting up to the mast. The ladder was on the other side of the deck, leading you to inch your way around the center portion until you could find the ladder with your eyes.

There were tons of the soldiers across the deck, running around, whispering to one another. They all held massive, sharp spears, the jade and gold glinting under the pale moonlight. It reminded you of Namor, you thought, until you realized it was possible they were his people. As much as you trusted him, you didn’t trust the spears; you weren’t about to risk your life, and even Doctor Mishra’s life, just to reunite with the man from the sea. 

You bolted towards the ladder, grabbing the bars and climbing up it with no hesitation. Someone from below shouted something. You didn’t look down, moving at a speed you were sure you had never moved at before, until you reached the top level where the light machine and the red flare device were located. You practically threw yourself onto the bright red button, pressing it over and over again so tens of red flares shot up into the night sky.

Your earbuds were playing Childish Gambino, now, and despite it being one of your favorite songs of all time, you couldn’t find it in you to enjoy it. You kept pressing the button, red flare after red flare firing into the sky. People were shouting from below you, in a language you couldn’t decipher, especially with “Me and Your Mama” blasting into your ears.

You took a brief moment to glance at the deck, peering over the railing. Someone was climbing up the mast, the gold of their armor glinting under the light of the mast. You panicked, unzipped your bag and grabbed your taser. You ran to the other side of the table-like desk in the center of the platform and crouched behind it.

Feet adorned in golden-plated sandals planted onto the platform. You swallowed your breath, holding out your taser for when they rounded the desk. You cursed your earbuds; you were sure they could hear the Childish Gambino blasting from them. When they rounded the corner, you shot up and stuck out the taster onto their stomach, to which they convulsed and stumbled backwards. You pressed the red button a handful more times, but before you could act again, you felt a hand grab you by the neck and heard the cling of a blade being unsheathed.

“Suelta a arma (Drop your weapon),” the person holding you said firmly, to which you shakily dropped your taster. It clattered onto the wooden platform. The soldier let you go, your back towards the ladder, and with the shear pointed right at you, commanded, “Péeksik (Move).”

You couldn’t understand them, but you had enough context clues to understand what the soldier wanted. You caught a long enough glimpse at them to see a strange mask over their mouth and nose, water splashing around inside of it. You wanted to look for longer, but they nudged you with the butt of their spear, so without protest, you climbed down the ladder.

By the time you reached the floor of the deck, you barely had a moment of freedom before the soldier grabbed you again, holding you by the shoulders with their spear at your neck. They spoke to another soldier, the blade of the spear dangerously close to your skin. 

One of the soldiers wore a tall, orange-feathered headdress, with the same feathers donned around the necklace she wore that looked like it was made out of something woven. The soldier holding you shoved you forward, hard enough that you stumbled over your feet and almost fell flat on your face. As soon as you were released, the other soldiers circled you, spears pointed.

“Vacíe u póoj (Empty your bag),” she commanded. You blinked, not understand. At your silence, one of the soldiers poked your bag with their spear, nudging it off. You reluctantly shook it off of your shoulders, letting it fall onto the deck. “Je'e le! (Open it!)”

Another soldier poked it with your spear before another nudged you forwards. Lowering to your knees, you grabbed the back and opened the zipper pocket so the contents of your bag was visible. One of the soldiers snatched it from you, turning it upside down and shaking it so everything fell out; your map tumbled to the ground, along with your computer, camera, and journal. Cringing at the sound of your computer and camera dropping onto the deck, you made a move to stand, but the feeling of a spear pressed against the back of your neck kept you down.

The woman in the headdress, who you assumed was in charge, bent down and picked up the map, unrolling it. She ran her finger where you had outlined the hypoxic zone in red pen, the notes near the southern border of the United States, as well as the circle around your sister’s town in Yucatán.

“Talokan ma' u dibujado (Talokan is not drawn),” she said. In broken English, she read the notes and pronounced. “Hi-gh con-cen-tra-ti-on.”

You gulped, watching them interact with one another. The one behind you holding the spear to your neck said, “Ba'ax le kíins wa ma'? (Do we kill her, or not?)”

“Le ajawo' tu ya'alaj ma' u testigos (The king said no witnesses),” another soldier proclaimed. “Kíisa (Kill her).”

“Pa'atik! (Wait!)” one exclaimed, leaning down and grabbing your wrist. “Ilawil u x-oron (Look at her wrist).”

“Lelo' u Talokan (That is from Talokan),” another said, to which gasps and murmurs spun around the circle of soldiers. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment; the word Talokan was circling your brain. Namor. These were his people. Where was he? Why were they on your ship, killing your team? About to kill you?

“K'aaba' ti' le ajawo' (Call the king),” the woman said, to which one of the soldiers held up a large conch shell. After a beat of silence, the soldier brought it up to their lips and blew through it, a loud clarion call resounding through the air. After the call ended, the woman announced to the soldiers, “Leti' jach le ts'ook viva (She is the last alive).”

“Le ajawo' yéetel complacido (The king will be pleased),” a soldier said. 

“Y/N!” came someone's voice from above. Your heart lurched when you saw Doctor Mishra from atop one of the platforms where the radio room was. You internally cursed him for revealing his presence to the soldiers. The soldiers shouted something, and one moved to go after Mishra, but before he could, a figure shot through the air towards where the doctor was.

The figure landed on the platform next to Mishra, who, before he could run away, was struck in the head with the butt of a spear; Mishra fell to the floor, alive, but unconscious. The figure flew up into the air, circled the mast, before soaring towards where you and the soldiers were, landing with a hand on the deck.

The soldiers knelt, joining their hands at the wrists and opening their palms to him. The figure moved, the wings at his angles fluttering as he stood up. Your breath caught in your throat when he set eyes on you, breaking through the circle of soldiers to stand before your kneeling figure.

“You,” was all you could breathe when Namor stared down at you, his spear gripped in his hand. His hair was slicked back with the water of the ocean, his eyes narrowed in one of the deadliest glares you had ever witnessed. A chill went up your spine.

“I gave you that because I trusted you,” Namor poked the bracelet on your wrist with the tip of his spear. Your hands were shaking now, tears pearling at the corners of your eyes. “And here you are... harvesting vibranium. Just as you promised me you would not do.”

“I... you didn’t read my letter?” you stammered out. He was scaring you. There were drops of saltwater on his eyelashes, those ebony eyes of his making you simultaneously melt with adoration and freeze with fear. “I thought... they... they lied to me, they said we were just finding the concentration, I didn’t know they were harvesting it here--”

“You lied to me,” Namor said slowly with composure. His jaw clenched. Something in his eyes changed. “You tricked me.”

“I didn’t,” you were crying now. “I didn’t. I promise, K’uk’ulkan--”

“You do not deserve to call me that,” he gave a dry scoff. He gulped. He wasn’t just angry, you saw; he was upset. Devastated. “You are now an enemy.”

“Look at the map!” you urged him, scrambling to find it. “Look at my notes! I didn’t-- it’s not even near Yucatán, it’s-- it’s just where the concentration was higher, I swear--”

“High Concentration,” the woman from before said, handing the map to Namor. He took it, unrolling it and eyeing the area you had outlined.

“What is this?” Namor asked you, not meeting your eyes. You sniffed, swallowing the frog in your throat.

“It’s-- it’s just where I found the high concentration of vibranium in the first place. I thought we were just supposed to go back to that area, in the northern Gulf, to test the concentration, and that’s what I thought we were researching! That’s what my-- that’s my project. My work.”

“Your project,” Namor repeated. 

“Remember?” you practically begged. “Remember how I spent all that time working and you stopped me from getting data? That’s what I was researching! That’s what I’m doing here! I didn’t know that fucking Bernstein and Reynolds were trying to harvest vibranium! I had no idea!”

“How am I supposed to believe you?”

You could barely catch your breath. “I-- I don’t know. My map, my computer, my journal, my goddamn phone, everything’s in there. Take it all, I don’t care. Read everything I’ve ever written, you’ll see!”

Namor bent down and picked up your journal, flipping open to the first page and starting to read. Your knees were starting to hurt from how long you’ve been sitting on them. The silence was deafening, watching him flip through the journal. He read every single word, and you tried to calm your breathing as you watched his face change as he continued to flip.

When he reached the last page, he closed the journal and held it by his side. His glare was gone; he was frowning now, refusing to look at your face. Glancing up at the soldiers, he lifted a hand, to which they lowered their spears away from you and backed up. Namor extended a hand to you as if to help you to your feet. You eyed it hesitantly, but seeing the grimace on his face, you took it and stood.

He didn’t say anything. It was like he couldn’t. He avoided your eyes, and without a word, he turned around towards the railing, resting his forearms on it with a sigh. You were still shaking, but as your fear subsided, you felt the anger bubbling up in your stomach. A drop of blood fell from your nose, touching your top lip.

“You killed everyone,” you muttered, wiping the blood off of your lip. He turned his head and said nothing. “Your people almost killed me.”

“I will do anything for my people,” he told you carefully. His voice was wavering. “If they are threatened, I do not care what it takes. I will protect them.”

You weren’t sure what to say. You walked up beside him, resting your arms on the railing, too. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his chest rising and falling with a quick cadence, and despite not being able to hear his fast breathing, you could see he was becoming flustered.

“I pray you can find it in you to understand my motives,” he continued. You, again, said nothing. You could barely form words, your mouth dry. There was something warm on the back of your neck; you brought your hand up to touch it, only to find fresh blood on the pads of your fingers. The spears had cut you. Namor glanced over at your bloodied hand, brows twitching. He reached towards you, “Allow me to--”

You flinched back. You couldn’t look at him. He dropped his hands and bowed his head, staring at the waters below. They were calm, now, the sharks and dolphins no longer splashing about. That whale you had seen had gone, too. You willed your rapid beating heart to cease, wishing your chest would stop twisting and turning.

“I get it,” you murmured, using the collar of your shirt to wipe the last bit of blood from your nose. Namor’s head twitched up, eyes on you in less than a second. “Gotta protect your people, just like you were when you wouldn’t let me take those samples. But this... this is... what I saw...”

“If I had known you weren’t apart of it, I would never have let--”

“I wish you had trusted me,” you sniffled, finally looking at him. His ebony eyes were wider than you had ever seen them, brown brows tilted upwards in a form of desperation you would have never picture them having. He was beautiful. “My letter, I thought... I thought I explained it.”

“You did,” Now that Namor had caught your eyes, he didn’t dare look away in fear of losing them again. “You did, I... jumped to conclusions.”

“You jumped to conclusions,” you repeated, breaking the eye contact. You clenched your jaw. “So you killed my entire team.”

Namor’s mouth opened and closed like a fish for a second, unable to find proper words. “You have to understand where I’m coming from, here. These ships harvesting our vibranium-- Talokan’s vibranium-- would put us at risk. It could lead to the end of my people.”

“I know,” you sighed, closing your eyes and putting your head on your hands where they rested against the railing. The ocean’s breeze struck at your forehead, cooling your skin and blowing your hair off your face. Namor didn’t say anything, but you could feel him looming closer. You hid your face from him.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him over the breeze. “Please look at me.”

After a prolonged second, you lifted your head from your arms, the breeze chilling the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. You couldn’t meet his eyes. You couldn’t bear it.

“Take me home,” you said quietly. He blinked. “Please.”

“To... to Yucatán?” he inquired, a layer of hope underneath his words.

“No,” something was twisting in your chest. “To Miami.”

“...right now?”

“Yes.”

Namor didn’t move, just staring at you with those puppy dog eyes that made you want to wrap your arms around him and pull him into you. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Please, Y/N, we have to--”

“Yes, I am sure,” you said pointedly, despite the wobbling of your voice. “It’s not like there’s anything for me to do here, anyways. Everyone’s dead.”

Namor raised an arm, and the female Talokanil soldier from earlier came to his side. He muttered something to her in his native language; you hadn’t bothered to listen, for one because you didn’t speak a word, but for two because for some reason, hearing his voice was making it difficult to hold your ground.

“Come,” he said to you, holding his hand out. You glanced over at him; he began to rise from the ground, wings on his ankles keeping him suspended in the air. You glanced at his hand. “Do you trust me?”

You felt your lower lip tremble. 

“I don’t know,” you said, grabbing his hand anyways. He frowned, his eyes more glassy than ever. You wondered if he would cry. He pulled you up, gently wrapping an arm around your waist and holding you tight on his side, his other arm holding his spear.

In a flash, you were soaring towards the horizon, the cold, salty air whipping you in the face as he flew. His skin was cold against yours, and despite your anger, you pushed yourself against him, wondering when the next time you’d feel him would be.

The gold of his jewelry pressed against your skin, and you stared at the way in glinted under the pale moonlight. You stared at him, the jade in his septum, the point of his ears, the bronze of his skin. There were tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, prevented from rolling down his face and simply flying away from the force of the wind.

You hadn’t realized how quickly you were flying. The shore was near, you could see the lights of the city as you approached it. You slowed, your hair relaxing from the absence of the harsh wind. Scrunching your nose to get some feeling back in it, your feet skimmed the top layer of the ocean as he brought you to the sand and let you go.

You dusted your self off, fixing your head and allowing yourself to adjust to being back on the ground. You had gotten dizzy from the flight, but came to it in less than a minute. You glanced at where his hand still held his spear. When he saw you look at it, he lowered it without hesitation. You finally laid eyes on Namor. The tears from earlier had fallen onto his cheek. 

“Do you fear me?” he asked.

“I fear what you’re capable of,” you muttered. “Because I don’t think you’ll ever trust me.”

“I trust you,” he breathed. You frowned. “I trust you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do,” he insisted, falling to his knees in front of you. His ebony hair was partially covering his eyes, but the wind suddenly pushed it back so you could see his face. Your eyes widened, gaze lowering to where he sat. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I trust you. Fully.”

You could barely believe the sight before you; Namor, on his knees. You were cruel, you thought. You were still crying. 

“I just need some time,” you said, feeling your heart change at the sight of him. His eyes kept flickered around your face, to one eye, to your nose, to your lips, to the other eye, back to your lips. “Okay?”

“Time?” he repeated, nodding, knees digging into the sand, wings on his ankles fluttering a bit. “Yes, that’s-- as much time as you want.”

“Okay,” you sighed. Namor slowly rose to his feet, reminding you of the way he towered over you. He didn’t let his eyes leave yours, as if he were trying to tell you something tacitly. He looked at your lips. 

He lifted his hands towards your face, and when you didn’t flinch away, he cupped both of your cheeks with his palms. You closed your eyes, heart thumping. 

“Whenever you are ready,” he began, his thumb rubbing over your cheekbone. “I’ll be here. All right?”

“Mm-hm,” you said, letting yourself look at him. He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“Good-bye,” he said. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your hairline so tenderly you thought you might start sobbing right then and there. Before you could say anything more, he soared up into the air, flying away and disappearing into the midnight sky. You wiped at your cheeks, ridding the tears, and with a sigh, you turned around and made for your apartment.

---

taglist:

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#namor #namor fanfic #namor fanfiction #namor x reader #namor mcu #namor x you #namor fic #tenoch huerta #wakanda forever #k'uk'ulkan of talokan #vibranium #namor of talokan #k'uk'ulkan x reader #k'uk'ulkan #mcu #Black Panther 2 #con la brisa #angst #tenoch

[your-averagewriter]

Work interruptions.

Summary: Shuri enjoys calling her girlfriend from the Jabari Tribe during her work shifts bearing gifts that give homemade a whole new meaning but they can't hang out during the day so (y/n) meets her after her shifts (Shuri x fem!reader).

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: fluff, weapons, kissing?

-

-

“(y/n) of the Jabari Tribe, your council is sought by the leaders of the Golden Tribe.” A warrior of a lower rank requests.

“Permission to leave,” I ask of M’Baku who’s slumped in his chair.

“Yes, yes.” He says dismissing me with a wave of his hand before continuing the meeting that was interrupted by the announcement. This has happened multiple times now, Shuri summons me to her home for unimportant reasons.

Grabbing hold of my sword I hop down from the platform I was standing on and I follow the warrior out of the room. He leads me out of the building and towards the hangar.

“I can escort myself, thank you,” I say, a serious, authoritative tone in my voice. It’s hard to get taken seriously when you’re only 17, a woman and the warriors ranked below you are all taller and older than you. But he nods before exiting.

I make my way to my speeder, yes I know sounds like some science fiction but it’s not, Shuri designed it for me. Quickly, I mount it and fly to the Golden Tribe’s palace. I drop off my speeder in their hangar before announcing myself to the guards. They lead me through the building and to the lab even though I already know the way.

“You requested my presence?” I ask bowing to Shuri slowly before standing up straight.

“Yes, my love. Come here.” She says waving me towards what I assume is a new creation of hers. She starts explaining about the small object, a bracelet of beads by the looks of it. She ties it around my wrist and explains what it does and how it will help keep me safe.

“Princess, I am on duty, you cannot keep calling me over when you are not in danger or there is no reason of importance,” I say and she looks disappointed.

“But I miss you in the day. You’re always so busy!” She says.

“I’ll come back later when I’m off-duty,” I say trying to appease her.

“Ugh fine.” She says, begrudgingly.

“Do you need anything else, princess?” I ask bowing again.

“Yes, actually.” She points to her cheek and I sigh but walk over anyway. I kiss her on the cheek before leaving the room.

“You look very pretty today, goodbye, my love,” I say before heading back to my post in the mountains.

The rest of the day is fairly calm, not much happens apart from the usual security at M’Baku’s meetings. Otherwise, it’s an easy day although the time that I relax will be the time I’m caught off guard.

Taking off my armour, I place it on the armour stand before pulling on some more casual clothes, a mesh bodysuit with a pair of black trousers and chunky boots - not the most practical but great for kicking people with. 

Heading towards the Golden Tribe palace for the second time this day I suddenly hear a voice from the beaded bracelet, jumping slightly I’m awakened by it.

“(y/n), are you almost here?” Shuri’s voice sounds through the beads.

“Shuri? I that you?” I ask holding the beads in front of my mouth, my mind completely ‘boggled’.

“Yes, my lover, it is me. You need not hold the beads so close to your mouth.” She says with a chuckle.

“Why are you in the beads?” I ask shaking my wrist.

“I am not in the beads, I promise. It’s a telecom like in the fighter jets.”

“Okay, if you’re sure…” I trail off.

“So, are you almost here?” She asks again. 

“Yes, I’ll be with you in mere minutes, be patient, my dear.” I say before tapping the beads trying to ‘hang up’.

“Excellent.” She says before a small beep sound is made and her voice disappears. Pulling up to my ear I shake it once more before shrugging and moving on.

Minutes later I arrive at the same palace and I’m escorted in once again by two guards.

“(y/n)?” I hear a voice from in front of me.

“King T’Challa,” I say before kneeling on one knee and bowing my head, the guards behind me do the same. 

T’Challa chuckles. “Surely, we are past this now, are we not (y/n)?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say with my head bowed still.

“There is no need for you to kneel and bow to me, are we not better friends than that, how long have you been dating Shuri? 2, or 3 years? Come on now, surely we moved past these formalities a while ago.” He says with a laugh, holding his hand out to me.

I take it hesitantly with a gracious smile. “I guess so, King T’Challa.”

“Just T’Challa, please.” He says before shaking my hand and looking behind me. “Do they not let you in here unaccompanied?” He says and I shake my head. “Well, from now on (y/n) does not need to be accompanied within my home, it is safe and I trust her.” He says to the guards and almost immediately they retreat back to the main doors. “Do you mind if I walk with you?” Placing his hands behind his back.

“Of course not.” We continue walking towards the laboratory.

Conversation is made, the usual ‘how are you’s and ‘how’s work’, the usual until we make it to the lab.

“(y/n) finally!” I hear as soon as I step foot in the lab, the next thing I see is her running towards me. She wraps her arms around me.

“Shuri, as adorable as this is moment is, give the woman some space.” He chuckles.

“Go away brother, why are you even here?” She asks, jokingly grimacing at him.

“I’ll leave, I’ll leave.” He says placing his hands in the air in a mock surrender before backing away towards the door. “I don’t want to interrupt you two.”

“Yes, get out of my lab!” She yells as he opens the door and leaves. 

“I missed you today, my love.” I say as she’s still gripping onto me. “I’m guessing you did as well.”

“Of course,” She pulls away from me but stays holding onto my hand.  “Come on, I’ve got something extra for you.” 

She picks something small off of the side and places it into my hand and closes my palm. Re-opening my palm I inspect the two small objects against my skin. Two earrings it looks like, they’re made of a pale blue gem like material with metal coatings. They’re beautiful.

“They match your bracelet and they work very similarly - they have qualities that help track you and protect you.”

“They are really pretty.” I say admiring them.

“Try them on.” she says, leading me over towards one fo the full body mirrors. I change out my old ones which are plain balls of metal whilst the new ones are blue gems. Checking myself in the mirror, I look at the earrings and how well they match my outfit before turning to Shuri.

“They’re beautiful. I love you.” I say, kissing her gently. 

“Thank you, I couldn’t make a second pair in time for your arrival so that’s my pair, you can have them, they’ll keep you safe.” I shake my head.

“You are the princess, sister of the king, you need to be safe and protected, I am a warrior I’m of no high status and am a target of little persecution - you need these more than me.” I say starting to take out the earrings.

“No, no, (y/n), you don’t need to, I’ll be able to make a second pair sometime tomorrow and I’ll be safe until then.”

“Who is gonna keep you safe until then?”

“You, I guess you’re staying the night babe unless you want to leave me entirely defenceless. What would I do without you?” She says with a smirk before pecking me on the lips.

-

AN: I just saw Black Panther: Wakanda Forever and I'm in love with everyone in the movie all over again.

This a reminder that Shuri is at a minimum of 16 and a maximum of 19 so please don't be creepy and read this if you're like 30 - I am a minor and so is the character. In this fic specifically, Shuri is either 16 or 17 so just don't be creepy.

#black panther #black panther 2 #black panther x yn #black panther x you #black panther fanfic #black panther fanfiction #shuri x reader #shuri x yn #shuri x you #black panther: wakanda forever #wakanda #t'challa #chadwick boseman #rip chadwick boseman #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel x yn #m'baku #shuri black panther #t'challa black panther

[mischievoushiddleston]

Kings Obsession

Pairing: Namor x Reader

Masterlist here!

Warning. SPOILERS FOR BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER

Warnings: Smut, pregnancy, kidnapping

Request bye @duhitzdae hope you like it💚

She had first seen him when she was on the beach with her mother and twin sister Shuri and after the battle between Talokan and Wakanda, she never thought she would see him again. Y/N was in Haiti with her sister at Nakia and, now wanting to finish the ceremony they had done on the beach, she left Shuri alone and went for a walk on the beach to clear her head herself. Behind her, she could hear the waves rolling onto the beach and was lost in her thoughts. "Princess Y/N..." she heard a voice behind her and winced because she knew the voice. She turned to see Namor standing behind her.

"What...what are you doing here, Namor?" she asked and he grinned but didn't answer when suddenly she was grabbed from behind and a mask was placed on her face. She didn't know why, but as a chant began she became drowsy and only noticed Namor lifting her in his arm and carrying her into the water.

When she awoke again she was in a cave and she sensed she was not alone. Y/N sat up and looked at Namor. "Princess, you're awake..." he said and she gasped slightly.

"What am I doing here?" she asked him, "Where am I anyway?"

"You are in Talokan, my kingdom..." he said and came to her. He stroked through her white hair and smiled, but she pulled back from him.

"K'uk'ulkan," said a woman behind him, and he continued to look at Y/N.

"I'll be right back..." he said and walked away with the woman. She was panicked as she looked around and looked down at her bracelet. She had no signal here to reach her sister. Damn. But she could use it to find a way out, she thought.

"Yeah," she said, looking around. No one was around, so she made her way until she arrived at a hole filled with water. She took a deep breath and sat on the edge so her legs were in the water before taking a deep breath and diving into the water. Y/N swam the path that was indicated to her until she reached the end and resurfaced and she was able to get out. Immediately she picked up her bracelet and was about to call when an arm wrapped around her and the beads tore from her hand.

"Very naughty to honor my hospitality like that..." he said in her ear, making her shiver. He let her go for a moment and destroyed the beads with his lock. "Deep breath..."

She reluctantly did as he asked and swallowed as he dove back with her. This time he didn't leave her there and led her to a room that had paintings on the walls.

"I want to go home," she said firmly as she looked at him and he looked at her firmly.

"This is your home now...and you will love me as I love you..." he said and stepped toward her. She stepped back until her back met the wall and he stood directly in front of her. "You will be my wife..." -Namor raised a hand and stroked her collarbone with one finger- "And will give me children...It is inevitable. So why resist it?"

She hit him in the face with the flat of her hand when he said that, but he just kept smiling. "Because I decide for myself what I want!" she said angrily and was about to walk past him, but he grabbed her wrist and stopped her. Namor turned her back to him and suddenly kissed her passionately. She was perplexed for a moment, but then kissed him as well. What was she doing here? Y/N pushed him away from her and breathed heavily.

"You want me like I've wanted you since I first saw you on the beach," he said, looking at her before kissing her passionately again and pulling her against him. She put a hand on his neck and reciprocated again. It was stupid to give herself to him, she thought. He had kidnapped her, for God's sake! Killed Shuris and her mother. If she kept doing this, could her sister ever forgive her? Why didn't she care about anything right now? She wanted this man, this king. She walked backwards without breaking the kiss until she arrived at the table.

Y/N could feel his hands on her thighs and wrapped her legs around him. She pulled him close against her and moaned into the kiss as she felt his erection pressing against her clothed pussy and rubbed against him a little. Namor unzipped her pants and pulled them down along with her panties. She looked down at him as he leaned down. He put her leg over his shoulder and kissed up it until he got to her pussy and looked at it before he started licking it. The tip of his tongue plunged into her entrance, making her moan loudly. Y/N arched her back and clawed at his hair as he continued. Namor raised one hand and stroked her pussy with two fingers until he thrust deep inside her and fingered her. His mouth moved to her clit and he sucked on it.

"Namor..." she moaned, arching her back. With each thrust, he increased the pace and curled his fingers inside her. Y/N could already feel an orgasm building inside her. She had never cum so fast, so close to it as she did with him. She tightened around him and cumming suddenly. Namor continued to lick her through her climax until she was just gasping on the table. She barely noticed him get up and pull his fingers out until she felt the tip of his cock at her entrance and looked up at him. He pushed the tip inside her, making her gasp as she was still sensitive from her last orgasm.

Namor put his hands on her hips and thrust his cock deep inside her in a fast and hard thrust, making her moan loudly. Y/N barely had time to react as he quickly fucked her. One hand let go of her and grabbed her shirt and ripped it off her body, as well as her bra. He moaned as he thrust deep inside her, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. "So perfect...you will be a worthy queen for my people," Namor said through his teeth as he thrust into her tight pussy. His hand moved back down and began to slowly rub her clit as he continued to thrust deep inside her. Again she could feel her orgasm building inside her.

"Namor..." she moaned, looking up at him. She pulled him down and kissed him passionately as she clawed into his back and cumming around his cock.

"Y/N..." he moaned, thrusting deep inside her, filling her with his cum. Her thoughts were distant to think that he might have impregnated her at that very moment and she hummed as she closed her eyes.

Everything was crazy in the time that passed after that. Namor showed her Talokan and, although she missed her sister, she liked it here and began to fall in love with him. There was nothing she could do about it, even if she wanted to. No one could choose who to love and she loved him. Namor, of course, didn't miss a single chance to have sex with her, not that Y/N complained, and just a few months after the day she arrived here, she found out she was pregnant. They were both happy and enjoyed their pregnancy, which went off without a hitch. But it was also the case that she kept getting sad at the thought of Shuri as the birth approached and also when she had her twins. He hated to see her so sad, so after a few years he went back to Haiti with her to the beach and also together with their children.

Y/N sat on the beach and smiled softly when she saw Namor with her two as they dove and stroked her belly, which was carrying another child. "Y/N?" someone asked behind her and she recognized the voice. Cautiously, she stood up to see Shuri and smiled weakly.

"Hey..." she said and hugged her. Immediately Shuri realized her twin sister was pregnant as she looked down.

"What the hell happened! I've been looking for you for years!" she said immediately, just as Namor appeared with her children, flying above the water, as her little ones had inherited the wings on their feet from him. Shuri was confused and looked back and forth between them. Her daughter ran to her.

"Mama..." she said, hugging her legs and then lifting a shell. "Papa found it..."

She took it and Namor came to them. "What's going on?" said Shuri, looking at her as if her sister had grown another head.

"Let me explain before you rip his head off..." said Y/N, smiling gently, "And meet your niece and nephew..."

A/N Namor Request are open! Read here!

#namor fanfic #namor request #namor one shot #namor smut #tenoch huerta namor #tenoch huerta smut #tenoch huerta one shot #tenoch huerta #black panther wakanda forever #black panther wakanda forever spoiler #black panther 2

[sayashade]

Namor and Shuri should've had an alliance! I need an Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage fic on this, like, yesterday!

#black panther #shuri #namor x shuri #namor #mcu namor #mcu #wakanda forever #black panther 2 #arranged marriage #alternate universe #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3

[nellycanwrite]

What if: Attuma x Talokanil!Princess!Reader👀

“My duty is to protect you. How dare I be so impertinent as to bear feelings for the daughter of my own king?”

“You are never impertinent. Not when I bear the same love for you as you have for me.”

“And when we are under the eyes of scrutiny, what then should you do?”

“It matters not, in yakunaj.”

“But your majesty—!”

“Call me by my name, I beg you. We bear more than just pleasantries of warrior and royal.”

“...Is that an order?”

You smiled. “A request.”

—

SHOULD I ACTUALLY MAKE A WHOLE FIC OF THIS I'M CRYING SCREAMING THROWING UP I thought of this while being sick with fever and nearly throwing up but I just had to write this little snippet from my head y'know NDHSJWJA

#look I'm just a sucker for the knight x princess trope #and the bodyguard x royalty trope #im going to fucking pass out /gen #but who cares attuma and princess reader LAAAAAWD HAVE MERTHY #attuma x reader #attuma #wakanda forever #attuma fanfic #attuma x princess!reader #black panther 2 fanfic #bpwf #attuma x y/n #attuma x you #attuma of talokan #mcu namor #mcu attuma

[spookykittyboo]

Amor

Kinda subby! Namor, his abandonment issue is showingggg (Brown eye girl reader) namor x fem!reader

In querida reina; My dear queen

Teech k'abéet ti' teen; I need you

In reina; My queen

Much P'at u bixake' intia'a; Please let it be mine

A man had his body powerless, laid underneath a damped roof.

And while his body was a cry to desperation, his head was in his own daydream

Thinking of one's warmth and the careless whisper she threw at nights

He was weak. In his powerless state.

The other side of the brutal king they worship, just another starving being that craved for love and longed for it for hundreds of years.

He missed her.

And thus where the king was.

"I'll always be here. Won't ever leave, love."

Her soothing voice grew a home of comfort in his chest, as deep as it goes, his heart was placed in it with no hesitation. Growing a nest turned to a wonderland.  "Here, let me help you."

She unbuttoned the second, then her third.

As she saw him nibbling on the material of her shirt, searching for the comfortable bud he longed for. Stopped for a moment while her fingers held the edge of the material. She saw a God. A God yielding for a comfort in a woman of the surface. Craving a touch he once lost, caused by the sadness of one's mother.

She breathed,

Yet, she drowned as the pressure pushed through her longing for the surface. As he told his beloved little miss; She let her sorrow dragged her body to her death. For the boy, his guilt will always taint his skin with no washing away the pain. But then, she was there. A women from the surface, a land in which his mother came from, a land in which she loved the most.

 She left it unbutton at last, earning a soft touch in between her plump breasts with his hands running two fingers in the middle of the curved river. Oh, so pretty and real. She felt like the waves in between my fingers during the daylight, anytime the land calls me out just to feel her presence. "Amor," she called out to him as he was cut from the daydream of his imagination. The name he was cast out of, a word he never once heard out of the people that meets his eyes. But her.

"Patience there." she calms the God.

"In querida reina, please. Teech k'abéet ti' teen, don't torture me no more." his eyes glinted with the past images of old goodbyes and the touches he lost for years long. Craved a deep dark hole in his chest with shooting pain pumping his chest with suffering and many tribulation In his empty cave. All alone. The strained in his voice projecting the heavy heartache flashed before his eyes.

His hand wandered more to her bare chest, soaking the sick feeling of possession of one's being. Caressing it roughly in a rushed for his lust had taken over his whole body and for whatever worth, the fear of him losing her might keep him always have his skin on her. She lift his head a little to put aside the other side of her shirt underneath his head. "All for you, my king." she said. Putting herself an offering for the mighty king of Talokan.  He raised his upper body and dug a sight at her loving brown merciful eyes. He held his body with his elbow, holding himself facing from the side still with his left hand on one of her exposed breast. With parted lips he said "You will never leave my side, In reina. And forever you will be, safe in my hands." and loved. Loved by the king, adored by the king. Reign over the king with a single glance of a little innocent eyes to turn the table, from a God of all people worship to a man with his knees bow down in front of a mortal women of the surface.

…

He lay his head on a place he called home where comfort meets his head.

A body of two, tangled on the white sheet. Wrinkled and a bit of a mess the two have made. And as the sun set on the surface, a body of a man breathing calmly as his mouth sucking on her teat. Peacefully diving down the essence of her, heavily drunk in the safe embrace of her heart. And now for once, the sharp edge of a knife turned dull, the brutal ruler of the under slept in peace under the kind word of his queen. Suckling hungrily at her skin making her weak as he kept going to fulfill his needs. "Amor…" she moaned. She started to feel the fading will to move to just lay all of her. There. For him.

 He moaned a lazy response to her voice while his lips still intact to her bud, and the other hand playing it gently, swirling it in between his fingers. He mumbled "Much P'at u bixake' intia'al" under his hot breath. Denying all the duty, needs and the power he held in the back of his hand. For him, she was all that exist in that room with him, and as far as his fear of losing the women he loves once more…

May they give strength to whoever touches the queen with their own willing.

#namor #namor x reader #kukulkan x reader #kukulkán #wakanda forever #black panther 2 #jose tenoch huerta mejia #tenoch huerta #tenoch huerta x reader #namor the sub mariner #sub!namor #tenoch huerta meija #fanfic #hot villain

[ventingfanfics]

At the Movies

It’s about the third time that your hand went to Shuri’s thigh. Before there could be a fourth, she grabbed your hand and pecked your knuckles.

“Behave,” she said in your ear. 

You blushed and laughingly insisted that you were merely trying to keep her warm. You had noticed her shivering in the theater. A part of you felt bad because it was your sudden idea to go to the movies, but you hadn’t considered that you both weren’t dressed warm enough. 

Shuri didn’t mind, however. She was game to do pretty much anything you wanted. Date night had started with her chosen excursions and then you wanted to step up to the plate. You had to insist that she let you pay for your snacks at the theater in addition to the tickets. 

“If it’s too cold, we can raincheck,” you added, whispering back to her. 

She shook her head and hand dismissively before grinning at how sweet you were. “I’m feeling pretty hot now,” she replied with a smirk as she eyed you.

“See,” you gloated. “It worked.”

She laughed and returned her attention to the movie. You figured she wasn’t as hot as she claimed. Nonetheless, you kept your hands to yourself. 

The both of you watched the end credits as the information it provided was interesting to you both. It was one of the things you shared in common. However, Shuri was ready to leave sooner than usual. She reached for your hand and briskly strode out the place.

In the car, she was a bit quieter, though she listened attentively as you revealed your impressions of the movie. She smiled at your assessment and how expressive you could be with your opinions. 

“What did you think?” You turned the question back to her, just as curious as she had been in your response. 

“It was alright. Someone was distracting me.” 

Your initial instinct was to laugh, but you panicked instead. Had you offended Shuri with your touching? What if she didn’t like that? After all, she basically told you to stop. Maybe you went too far. 

“I’m sorry, I normally don’t do that, I just…” you apologized, feeling your heart pound, and your skin overheat. You even felt a wave of nausea hitting you. 

A look of confusion filled Shuri’s features as she kept glancing over at you. She now understood that you took her comment seriously. “Y/N, baby. You don’t have to look so upset. I was trying to be funny.” 

You exhaled. To say you were relieved would be an understatement. “Oh, thank God,” you said, laughing. “I thought you thought I was a perv!”

“You are. But lucky for you, I like it.”

When you laughed, so did she. You were going to see just how much she liked it once you got home. 

As soon as the door shut, you were backed against it with Shuri squeezing your hips. She looked like she could devour you. Stars were in your eyes as you gazed back at her just as deeply. Your lips couldn’t touch fast enough. Her kiss was slow but passionate. You tugged her closer, so your bodies felt molded. Each stroke and caress of your lips and tongue caused another burst of energy within you. You were going to need all the energy you could get for what your girlfriend had in store. 

#princess shuri #shuri black panther #shuri udaku #shuri x reader #shuri fluff #black panther 2 #mcu shuri #shuri x y/n #shuri imagine #queen shuri #shuri udaku x reader #shuri fanfiction #at the movies with shuri #shuri fanfic

[percsane]

— first kiss with the bp women ☆

characters: riri, shuri, okoye, and nakia

kendall’s note: decided to do sum diff 😁, shuri’s takes place when she’s 16, so think of the first movie.

(♡) or rb! :)

☆ riri — your first kiss with riri was sweet, it was cute too. she wanted to wait until you and hers fifth date. it was the fourth of july and you both didn’t celebrate it y’all are black… , but she decided to take you out to see the fireworks. you both drove to a secluded area, popping the trunk and sitting in it with a shared blanket over your laps. she admired the way the moonlight made your skin glow, she took in your features for a minute. when the fireworks went off, you locked eyes with her, talking about how beautiful the fireworks were, when all she could focus on was you. she reached her hand up to your face, turning your head to face her again and kissed you, caressing your heated cheek after. “you’re so beautiful, (y/n).”

☆ shuri — your first kiss with shuri was.. an accident. not saying you both didn’t want to, but she didn’t necessarily mean to kiss you. you were in her lab helping her with one of her big projects. you were a close friend of hers, so she trusted you the most to help her. you gave her some tips, and fixed one of her equations, and when she realized you were right she was ecstatic. “oh my god, OH MY GOD! IT WORKED!!” she cheered, shaking you, making you chuckle. you feel a kiss on your lips, it was fast and you weren’t expecting it. it was as if she didn’t even notice, still cheering about how your equation worked. “shuri…” you call out. “yes? yes?” she says, still focused on her completed project. “you just kissed me..” you croaked, watching her eyes widen a bit, before her lips curl into a little smirk. “i’m sorry princess, want me to give you a better one?”

☆ okoye — your first kiss with okoye was.. definitely unexpected. you were a dora in training, and you often bugged okoye about letting you train with her. “please okoye, i don’t wanna train with ayo anymore.” you whine, following close behind her. “has anyone ever told you, you are utterly annoying.” she stops walking to scold at you. “i have, quite often actually!” you smile, continuing on about how training with ayo was boring. as you babbled on, okoye pulls you into a unexpected kiss, shutting you right up. when she pulls away she looks down at you. “are you finished with your mindless whining? hm?”

☆ nakia — your first kiss with nakia was also unexpected, but more for her than you. you were walking with her, you two just wanted to take a nice walk together. she stops walking, which makes you stop as well, looking at her with concern. “hey.. so i kinda wanna like, kiss you. not in a weird way or anything i just think.. we’ve been talking for a little while ya know?” she murmurs, fiddling with her hands. “i mean, it’s okay if you don’t wa-” you roll your eyes, cutting her off with a kiss. when you pull away you giggle and continue walking, leaving her in shock that you just did that. “damn it, i should’ve done it myself.”

#shuri x black!reader #riri william x black!reader #okoye x reader #nakia x reader #riri williams fanfic #shuri udaku #riri williams #general okoye #nakia black panther #nakia fanfiction #wakanda forever #black panther wakanda forever #black panther 2 #x black fem reader #shuri black panther #black panther #black panther fluff #shuri #riri x reader #riri williams x reader #danai gurira #lupita nyong'o #letitia wright #dominique thorne #headcanon #black panther headcanons #kendall’s works!

[smolsized]

you know what could have solved so many problems in the BP2 movie? Two words, one trope:

#just think about it #black panther 2 spoilers #black panther 2 #mcu shuri #namore #namor x shuri #ao3 #fanfic #mcu #marvel

[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.

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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

#Tenoch Huerta #namor fanfiction #namor #namor fanfic #namor x reader #namor x you #namor x yn #namor of talokan #talokan #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #wakanda forever #black panther #Black Panther 2 #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #attuma #namora #k'uk'ulkan x reader #k'uk'ulkan #K'uk'ulkan of talokan