I’ve been using a Yucatec Maya to English translator so just let me know if any of the translations are wrong :)
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Over the past month you have been there for K'uk'ulkan, like you always are. However over the past week you haven't been spending much time together. You get it, he needs to do what he has to do. Though, surely, despite this is all he wouldn't forget something as important as your anniversery...right?
You and K'uk'ulkan have been together for 12 years. It feels surreal and your love for eachother is stronger than it was when you first got together. He had planned to be there for you for the anniversery because it's your anniversery.
---
K'uk'ulkan returns: it's nightime and usually you would sleep but your mind is far from that. The empty glass of alcohol sits in front of you: the plate of empty food long gone.
It's your anniversery that day. He had planned to do something nice for you starting with the dinner he promised to make. That was hours ago though and you have been waiting for him for hours to return only for him to return when you're usually asleep. For him to seem to have no recollection that it's even your anniversery.
"In Yakunaj."- my love.
Namor pauses for a moment, his deep brown eyes meeting yours. Sadness and frustration, that's what he seems to pick up on at the moment.
"...Ts'o'ok in suut."- I’m back.
Unable to fight back the tears from falling, you scoff.
"Oh he returns, finally."
You want to just yell at him, but you can't.
"...I never thought you would."
It's...different to hear you be this harsh.
"...I told you I would..."
Namor begins to approach you, but you take a step back. With your right hand you hold it up signalling 'stop'.
"I get that you had to leave to do what you had to do K'uk'u'lkan, but..."
Hands run over your face- and more tears fall.
"...what about us? What about me?"
The sting that follows the last words strikes Namor in the heart, and he sighs, the words not properly forming. He has wanted to return to you sooner but couldn't. You have every right to be angry at him though, he gets that.
“Lamento ma' yantalto'on yaax yaantal waye', ba'ale' necesitaba bin- I’m sorry I was not here, but I needed to go.
You get that, of course you do. but this is your anniversary. Something he should have remembered. Maybe he had his mind on something else, and he had just forgotten, but he had promised you he would be there, and it hurts that only now he's returned.
"Ba'ale' ta chi'taj yaantal waye' yéetel ma' ka'ach.” - but you promised to be here and you weren’t.
You glance a way for a moment.
"I love you, more than anything." emphasizing the 'anything'.
"...but i'm upset..." and you’re angry too, but you’re more upset. He never meant to make you upset or angry, either. Truly he didn’t .
Namor mean's 'the boy without love' and he had laughed about that many times. He has many enemies, but no one seemed to care enough [besides his people] to understand him. They just feared him without giving him a chance.
Then you came along. The kindness radiating off of you is what he picked up on, and that welcoming smile he remembers so much. "my name is (y/n)." and as time went on he had found himself feeling something for you he had never felt towards anyone in that way. He had never given his heart to anyone, until you.
The love you have for him is more than you can put into words. Right now, though, right now you're sad and you want to just be away from him.
"Do you even remember what day it is?"
You wait...nothing. He seriously doesn't know, which hurts more. The tears fall quicker this time, but you don't wipe them away. All you do is fight back the urge from breaking how could he forget. You're willing to give him the benefit of the doubt because he is a ruler but he had told you days before he wouold be there for your anniversery. He promised.
He tilts his head, at first. K'uk'ulkan is confused. So he thinks back...then it clicks, and Namor's eyes widen.
"(y/n)."
Namor begins approaching you again but you shake your head, making it clear that you're extremely pissed and you don't want him around you.
"In yakunaj-"
"No..."
You take a step back, making him stop. Then you just shake your head...but it's what you say next that catches him off guard.
"Just leave me alone Namor."
The sharp venom in your tone cutting him. Namor? The only time you call him this is if you're extremely angry with him. You never call him by this name, only 'K'uk'ulkan'...but now? Now you don't care, you just want to be away from Namor.
You turn away from him, a sigh escaping.
"I need to be alone right now…”
K'uk'ulkan has never seen you this angry and upset at him, and he's angry at himself for forgetting your anniversary. He never forgets things, so he hates that he forgot this. Namor wants nothing more than to just hold you and tell you how sorry he is...but you need space, and he wants to give that to you.
So he simply nods "okay."
Before he leaves, though, he says:
"Lamento Ma'atech yantalto'on lelo'oba' ts'o'ok u intención u lastimar teech. In yaakunech."- I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I love you.
Then...he's gone, and you're alone again, and that's when the tears start again.
“You are sent by your father, the owner of the company, to represent this proposal which involves merging these two companies together. “, sitting facing him, barricaded by his sleek office desk and listening to him repeating my proposal. His intense gaze piercing through my soul. “And once the companies have been united, he will retire and you will be the successor, correct?” repeating the proposal while cocking his to the side. However, I sensed a but…
“Allow me to include my additional proposal before sealing the deal” he proceeded to rise from his chair, walked towards me as if a predator stalking its prey, turned my chair to face him. Still remained sitting, he crouched to my level, caged me with both of his palms resting upon the armrest of my chair and leaned towards me. My heartbeat quickened at the close proximity, intoxicated by his scent. A mixed of leather, oakwood and tobacco.
“What does it take to seal the deal?”, I questioned.
“You”
“A king will need his queen by his side to help him rule his empire. I want you to be my partner, both in the office and personal life. How does that sound, amor?”, tilting my chin up, proceeded to caress my jaw with his knuckle and his warm brown orbs boring into mine.
“Marry me, be my wife and let us rule this empire together. Side by side, for I have long an equally compelling queen to reign by my side.”
.ᐟ. ✦ SUMMARY: not all ideas are good ones especially ones that make din realise something he's been keeping hidden deep down inside.
.ᐟ. ✦ WARNINGS: usual star wars violence, jealous!din. he's bad at feelings.
.ᐟ. ✦ WC: 2.3k
.ᐟ . ✦AUTHORS NOTE: hi, this is my first time writing a star wars fic and i'm a lil nervous about it. im just testing the waters to see if i can write din and be happy with it and i think i am so there may be more in the future.
He hated this plan.
No, he loathed it with everything he had.
It was completely ridiculous. Idiotic even and he’d told you as much but you hadn’t listened to him. When did you ever listen to him? There were some days where he wished he’d just left you on Tatooine with Peli. Today was one of those days. It would have made his life a lot easier. You were stubborn, brash, you never listened to him and you irritated him like no tomorrow. But, although he would never admit it out loud, he liked those qualities about you. The way you treated him like a person, not a big scary Mandalorian was nice. Most people cowered in fear when they saw the Beskar but you? You hadn’t even batted an eye.
Din had first met you on Tatooine the day he had first met Peli. You were her younger cousin, forced to help her out with mechanic work even though that was the last thing you had wanted. You had no family left — your parents had been taken captive by Imperials when you were a child and ever since then you had been under Peli’s care. It wasn’t that you didn’t adore Peli because you did but you wanted more for yourself. You wanted to explore the galaxy, see what else was out there other than the desert and dry air of Tatooine. If you had to spend your whole life on this arid planet, you might just walk out into the desert and let a Sarlacc swallow you whole. Din had admittedly been fascinated by you with the way you had completely ignored him, barely sparing him a glance as you mumbled to yourself about the state of his ship. Before he had left the planet, Peli had asked him to take you along with him. She had framed it as ‘payback for watching the little womprat’ but really she wanted you to go out there and see the galaxy like you had talked about. Din had grumbled but, reluctantly, agreed. Those first few days on his Razor Crest had been bathed in nothing but silence until the one day you had finally talked to him.
“Don’t you ever get tired of smelling your own breath in that helmet?” you had asked him. The first words you had spoken to him. It had taken him by surprise. Of all the things you could have said to him, he hadn’t been expecting that.
After that, the sarcastic, teasing comments started coming more and more. His exasperated replies, the tilt of his Beskar helmet tilting to the side as you asked the most ridiculous questions had become your favourite thing. You didn’t fear him, you just liked to get under his skin in a way that made him feel like an actual person and not a bounty hunter. It was how a friend would treat him because… he guessed that’s what you two had become over time. He had to admit, you could be helpful when it came to taking care of the ship but you also often had good ideas for helping him go after his bounties.
However, this idea was awful. Truly.
You had suggested to be the bait. The bounty was a man of luxury who lived to be surrounded by money and beautiful women. The one sure way to lure him out would be to dress up, flirt a little and convince him to come back to the ship with you but Din hated the very thought of it.
“No,” he said simply.
“Come on! You know it’ll work or are you trying to say I’m not pretty enough to pull it off?” You placed your hands on your hips. You were baiting him. He knew it, you knew it.
An exasperated sigh left his modulator, his finger raising to point at you. “Don’t start.”
“Din, come on. It’ll be fine! You’ll be there lurking in the shadows if anything goes wrong. I can do this.” You had placed your hand on his forearm, his armour cool beneath your hands. He gazed down at it, his helmet barely moving so you didn’t notice but that simple touch was short circuiting his brain. It wasn’t often that you touched him — you were very respectful of his creed but whenever you did, it always sent him into a tailspin. Not that he could really feel but just the gesture itself was enough. Not many people showed him affection — well, nobody did so it was foreign for him. His body didn’t know how to react but he never pushed you away.
“Fine,” he relented. “But if things get hairy, I’m bringing him in co-”
“Yeah, yeah, cold. We know the line.”
He huffed, turning back to face out of the windows of the ship into the dark, starry span of space. “Go get ready then.”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Seeing the plan in action confirmed Din’s thought. It was the worst idea anyone in the whole damn galaxy had come up with. The cantina was full of patrons, seedy types, the ones you didn’t really want to socialise with unless you had to. The type of people Din was familiar with but not the ones you were. These weren’t the type of people you should be around. You were… good. They were not. Din was currently leaning against the back wall of the cantina facing the bar, fingers looped in his belt, one hand on his blaster in case he needed to pull it out in a pinch. His eyes under the helmet were solely trained on you, watching every single move you made.
Currently, you were sitting at the bar with the bounty in question — Kenth Cardell. A fake laugh from you sounded throughout Din’s helmet as you laughed at some terrible joke the man had made. Kenth was leaned in close to you, your hand on his forearm in a move to entice him. Din’s jaw was clenched under his helmet. Every time Kenth’s eyes landed on you, looking over your body or landing on your chest (where they focused most of the time) Din’s blood boiled. It took all the strength he had not to march over there and rip you away from the creep. But, he had to trust you. He did. Some of the time.
His whole body was taut, a feeling building up inside of him that he’d never felt before. It was foreign, unwanted. Each time Kenth leaned forward to brush your hair out of your face or when you giggled at something he said, a pit of anger bubbled up inside Din. It was all consuming, an anger like he’d never felt before. The hand poised on his blaster tightened. His jaw was clenched so hard he was sure he was about to give himself a headache.
Jealousy. That’s what it was.
Din Djarin had never been a jealous man. He had nothing to ever be jealous of before but now seeing some guy all over you? He was experiencing it for the first time and had no idea what to do with it. It was like a dam had burst open inside of him, showing him something he had hidden deep inside him since the moment he had met you. The only thought ringing through his head each time Kenth made any kind of physical contact with you was ‘it should be me’.
Feelings didn’t come easy to Din. With his creed, he had cut himself off from really growing attached to anyone. Grogu was the exception — he was a child, someone Din had taken under his care. But to have romantic feelings for someone? That had never really crossed his mind. Of course he’d had encounters in the past — hook ups and one night stands but they had never really meant anything. They were just a way to satisfy his needs. But now, as he looked at you, smiling a smile (that was entirely fake, he knew that deep down) at some other guy, he released that his heart belonged to you. It was a gut punch to realise he could feel this way about someone.
So lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even realise when Kenth had placed his hand on your leg but he caught it in time to see the man slowly slide his hand up to the hem of your dress. It barely had time to slide underneath before Din had marched over there, blaster out and pointed at the man’s head.
“Hands off,” he growled, his words laced with venom. Kenth instantly pulled his hands away, placing them in front of him in a placating gesture. “I was told to bring you in warm but I don’t think they’d care if a little ‘accident’ happened.”
Your eyes widened. You’d seen him angry before but never like this. It was like his mind and body weren’t working together, like he was acting on pure instinct. If you could see his eyes right now, you’d see how they were raging with a storm so big that the man in front of him was sure to scurry out of the door. The only reason he wasn’t right now was because a blaster was being held to his head.
“On your feet,” Din hissed, pressing the blaster closer to Kenth’s temple. The man was instantly on his feet. Din shoved him forward then darted his hand out to grab your wrist, dragging you along with him as he made his way out of the cantina.
“What are you doing?!” You yelled at him, trying to get yourself out of his grasp but it was to no use. He wasn’t being rough but he was way stronger than you.
“I told you this plan was stupid!” He sneered at you, his helmet rounding on you.
“It was working until you came in and ruined it!”
“He had his hands all over you!”
“And, I was handling it.”
Din came to a stop, the blaster still pointed at the bounty but he faced you, anger seeping out of him through his armour. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was furious but you were confused as to why. As far as you knew everything had been going great. Sure, Kenth had been a little touchy but you would’ve never let it go too far. You had been so close to getting him to come back to the ship with you until Din had showed up and ruined everything.
“His hand was sliding under your skirt for kriffin’ sake! I don’t think that’s handling it,” he growled, the sound menacing coming from his modulator.
You tilted your head, getting a good look at him. His whole body was tense, his blaster held firmly to Kenth’s head even though he was facing you. Then, it hit you. He was jealous. He was jealous and had no idea how to handle it. A smirk crept onto your face, your eyes glancing down to his hand that was still clasped around your wrist.
“Are you jealous?” You teased.
“No.”
“You are.”
“Don’t mess with me right now,” he said through gritted teeth. He nudged Kenth in the head, making him move again, dragging you along.
“That’s adorable.”
“Be quiet.”
The tone in his voice left no room for argument so you dropped it. For now. You let Din lead you to the ship, your eyes focused on the way his shoulders were ramrod straight, his whole posture locked in. The tone of his voice when he spoke had been commanding, angry. It was a stark difference to how exasperated he usually sounded. You had to admit that a jealous Mandalorian was hot. Anyone else would probably be terrified but you were amused. Knowing Din’s past and his creed, you were certain he had never felt anything like this before. It made butterflies flutter in your stomach to know you were the first person to ever bring up these emotions in him.
Once back on the ship, the bounty firmly locked in the carbonite, Din rounded on you. You took a step back, hitting the cool wall of the ship. One of his hands landed at the side of your head on the wall, the other hovering uncertainly by your hip. He was breathing heavily in his helmet, trying to calm himself down. Your eyes glanced down to where his hand was then back up to his visor, hopefully meeting his eyes.
“It’s okay, you can touch me,” you whispered.
His hand hovered for a moment more before he finally, finally made contact with you, his gloved fingers digging into your hip just right. “You’ll never let another man or woman or kriffin alien touch you like that again, you understand me?”
“Why?” You asked innocently. Once again you were baiting him.
“Because…” He was at a loss for words. What could he say? That he wanted you? That he was the only one that should get to touch you? No, he couldn’t. “Just… don’t.”
“Okay,” you said quietly, your hand coming up to rest on his that was on your hip. “I won’t.”
“Good girl.”
Your eyes widened at those words, your whole body igniting. He hadn’t even meant to say them, they’d just spilled out but the effect they had on you? That would stay in his memory for the rest of his life.
The silence was deafening after that. Then, it was like he came back to his senses. He tore his hands from you, taking a step back then without another word he ascended up the ladder into the cockpit. You didn't follow, still too stunned by everything that had just happened. His jealousy, the way his hand had felt on your hip and the ‘good girl’. It all felt like a fever dream. This was the most you had ever got from him.
Din sighed to himself in the cockpit. This was dangerous. He couldn’t let this happen. Feelings weren’t something he was accustomed to. He felt uncomfortable, unlike himself. No, he had to put a stop to this immediately. So, he did the only thing he could think of, typing in the co-ordinates to Tatooine.
Description: Your would-be assassin picked the wrong beach to ambush you on.
Reader is an immortal mutant with healing powers.
It’s a beautiful beach, one with pristine sands, and cool breezes, the scent of sea salt on the air, and clear waters reflecting the stars that dotted the night sky. You loved this beach, held its location safe within your chest, nestled beside your heart.
Loved, past tense, because now you were afraid, feet digging into the sand as you ran, heart pounding against your chest like a war drum. You veered towards the water, one foot landing in the surf, your heart taking flight, but then he caught you, yanking you back by your hair.
“I said, stop fucking running.” He growled, his grip on your hair tight, pulling at your scalp, as his arms wrapped around you.
“Let me go, you Nazi bitch.” You fought against him, trying to break free of his hold, but it was useless. This wasn’t a normal low-level assassin, this was an enhanced.
His grip tightened on you, squeezing like a vice grip, and you felt your lungs began to stutter, unable to draw in oxygen.
Tears began to roll down your face, dripping onto his bare arm.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.” He cooed mockingly.
“You’re a monster.” You choked out, nails clawing at his skin.
“Me? I’m not the mutant freak. I’m doing the world a favor by getting rid of you.”
You weren’t a threat to humans, you were a healer, all you did was lie low and try to help those who needed it. That’s all you had been doing for five hundred years.
“K’uk’ulkan.” You whimpered out, as your vision began to fade, hoping the gods would take mercy on you, and allow you a final vision of him before you died.
“Kool-la-what? Are you casting a spell on me, witch?” The assassin snarled, releasing his grip ever so slightly.
Your hand was free, and you gripped his arm, focusing on the spot where your skin connected.
He swore and dropped you, holding his arm close to his chest. There in the shape of your hand was decaying flesh, black and rotted.
You struggled to your knees, desperately sucking in air as your lungs seized. “Yes, I am.”
You weren’t, but he didn’t need to know that.
The assassin lunged at you, and you threw your body to the side, landing in the surf, hands glowing a bright gold.
You pushed the hair out of your face, tense and waiting for his next move, when you heard something whiz by you, then a solid thud. You looked up to see the assassin lying on his back, a spear imbedded in his chest.
Large warm hands pulled you to your feet. “In yakunaj, are you hurt?”
K’uk’ulkan’s low voice was a balm to your panicked mind, and your fingers found purchase in the bejeweled collar he wore, as you collapsed against him.
He scooped you up and brought you further onto the beach, settling on the sand with you in his lap. His hands smoothed back your wet hair, his eyes searching your face.
“I—my throat.” You coughed out, motioning to the mottled bruising that you were sure was already starting to appear.
He gently tilted your head up and hummed in displeasure. “He dared to put his hands upon you? I will throw his body to the sharks; I swear to you in reina.”
“They will fade, do not fret, my love.” You soothed, leaning into his touch.
K’uk’ulkan’s presence made you feel safe, as if no harm could befall you while he remained at your side.
“You are done with the surface world, they do not deserve you, and this has proved it.” He said firmly, his eyes narrowed at the corpse behind you.
“But there are people that need me.” You protested weakly, lightly running your fingers across your throat, speeding up your already enhanced healing ability.
He cupped your face, his warm brown eyes like amber flecked with gold, filled with sorrow. “They do not need you more than I do in yakunaj. I do not know what I would do if you were taken from me.”
You melted under his gaze, the fight draining from your body, leaving only exhaustion in its place. “But who am I if not a healer?”
“You will still be a healer, my people injure themselves often, they are like children, stumbling over every loose stone in their path.” He gave you a weary smile along with his promise.
You smiled back at him, carding your fingers through his thick hair. “That is not true, your people are fearsome warriors.”
K’uk’ulkan rested his forehead against yours. “What can I do to make you come home, and to stay? What must I give you to have my queen by my side?”
Your eyes fluttered closed as you basked in his warmth. It had been four hundred years of this, back and forth, stay or go, rule, or heal. You loved K’uk’ulkan more than anyone, anything, but you’d never been able to pry yourself from the grip of the surface world.
“You cannot buy my heart, you already have it.” You said, taking one of his hands and pressing it to your heart.
“But I do not. It sits in the hands of the surface dwellers, who crush it into a fine powder day after day, while I am helpless to watch.” His fingers curled, finding purchase in the fabric of your shirt, a desperate, pleading grasp.
“K’uk’ulkan…” You breathed, heartbreaking at the anguish in his voice.
“Y/N, you must return with me, if only so that I do not die of worry.” He pulled away and motioned to the corpse. “Look at what has happened, what if I had not been here—in yakunaj, you could have died.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. You were terrified, closer to death than you’d been in a long time. Maybe he was right, you could go with him, take care of his people, then return to the surface in a century or two and check on them.
“I will do it.” You said, closing your eyes, so he couldn’t see the tears of guilt welling up in them. How could you do this? Abandon all those who needed your help?
His thumbs wiped away the stray tears, and he brushed his lips across your forehead. “You will be happy there in reina, have faith in me.”
You looked up at him, bottom lip trembling. “I do, but…”
He shook his head. “No, but, do not let your mind run rampant as it tends to do. You owe the surface world nothing.” His voice was steady, as he leaned down and captured your lips, the warmth of him soothing your worries, and making your head pleasantly fuzzy.
You looped your arms around his neck, head tilting to the side, to deepen the kiss. He tasted of coconut and sea salt, his skilled tongue stroking yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine.
He kept you pressed against him as he stood, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked into the surf, intent on keeping you safe forever.
Prompt: "I'll follow you to the ends of the earth. No matter where you run, I'll catch you."
Requested By: Anon
Warnings: Stalking, obsessive behavior, obsession at first sight.
You were on vacation the first time you felt him near. Of course then you didn't know what it was that haunted you through the waters.
The warm waves of the Atlantic washed all around you as you swam from the beach. You went as far as you felt safe to go, pausing to enjoy the sunshine and to sneak a peak at the marine life below. You were unsure how long you were in the water before you felt it. You knew there was a presence near you. You felt the pressure shift in the water, closing around you. Upon inspection, you saw nothing that would cause such a disturbance. But each time you stepped into the sea, you had the feeling that something was there - watching you.
That looming feeling of eyes upon you didn't let up, even after you were home. Though it was gone for a while, it came rushing back one rainy evening. It was enough to make you double check the locks on every door and window in your home. You peered outside and saw nothing. Always nothing. Except when the lightning flashed and there was a figure seemingly floating in the air. You only saw it once, and shrugged it off as your imagination.
Always when it was raining. That's when you'd feel it. That's when you'd see things. It was maddening. The figure only appeared when you were home - and when it was dark. Never when you could find proof that something was there.
Until you started receiving gifts, that was. Handcrafted jewelry and ornate shells appeared at your doorstep. And once on your windowsill - inside. That was enough to make you leave your home. And once again, the occurrences halted - for a time. Then you saw it again, not long after you'd moved. The figure floating in air. The shape of a man. You tried to capture an image, but it was gone before you could.
You had to get out of town again. This time to the mountains. The snow was a welcome distraction.
"Beautiful evening, isn't it?"
You were alone on the balcony of the lodge - sipping a hot drink and enjoying the setting sun. Something about him seemed familiar, though you didn't think you'd met him before. The glare of the sun obscured your view slightly.
"Yeah, it is. You're staying here as well?"
"Not exactly." The rich timbre of his voice was soothing. And yet something felt off. "Just visiting. It's very quiet around this lodge. You're the first person I've seen. Forgive my intrusion. I'm... Namor. May I ask your name?"
You told him your name out of compulsory politeness. He turned to face you, repeating your name with a smile. You could see him clearly now. He looked out of place - as if he were uncomfortable in the clothing he was wearing. Nothing in the style of his sweater or hat matched his earrings - and they unnerved you at the sight of them. They looked to be the same craftsmanship of the jewelry you'd been receiving. Or perhaps it was just a coincidence. You complimented them, testing the waters.
"You like them? Perhaps I'll have to get you a pair." You let out a nervous chuckle. It was time to leave. You made up a quick lie about needing to go and stood, noticing that he wasn't wearing any shoes.
"I'll see you again soon," he said as a goodbye. He sounded so charming. But there was something dark in the phrase. It was a promise. You dared a last glance at him and saw that he hadn't taken his eyes off of you. That familiar feeling was back tenfold.
Namor kept his promise. When you returned home, a pair of green earrings was waiting inside. You weren't delusional. This man - or whatever he was - was following you. Could he fly? What was he? There were so many questions, and no answers to any of them. And now that he'd appeared before you, certainly things were going to escalate. You had to leave again. You moved only when it was bright and dry as a bone outside. You were careful - leaving no trace of where you might've gone. You installed a camera, extra locks, everything you could think of.
You thought you were rid of him. Through stormy nights you didn't see or feel anything out of the ordinary. No gifts were left for you to find. No figure floating outside your window.
Apparently he just needed time to find you.
Your face to face meeting had made him bolder. You saw him again - hovering outside your window as the rain fell. This time he didn't disappear. This time he flew to the glass, placing his hand against it as he looked inside at you.
You scrambled away, trying to alert the authorities. It didn't matter if they didn't believe you. You needed to know someone was on the way to you.
Namor was inside before you could give dispatch your address. He was behind you with his hand wrapped around yours, pulling the phone from your ear and ending the call. The other was around your mouth, preventing you from yelling. He shushed you when you yelled into his hand - as if he were attempting to soothe you.
"I have to admit, I am enjoying our game of cat and mouse."
You pulled away from him, and he let you. When you faced him, a grin had spread across his lips.
"Did you like the earrings," he ended his question with something in a language you didn't understand. Most likely a term of endearment.
"Get out. Now. The cops will be here any moment." He chuckled at that, and paid the thin threat no mind.
"I think I'll keep our game going a little longer," he said as he stepped closer. You instinctively stepped back, and he continued forward until you were against a piece of furniture and couldn't retreat any further. He reached his hand out and ran his knuckles against the side of your arm. The touch sent shivers down your spine.
"I'll give you two weeks this time before I look for you again."
No matter what you said, or what questions you asked, he had no interest in elaborating. Whatever his intentions were in the end, he kept them from you. He wouldn't tell you why he was there, what he wanted from you, nothing.
“I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. No matter where you run, I’ll catch you.”
He left through the window, flying into the darkness so quickly that he barely looked like a shadow across the sky.
🐬 namor has only known his mother’s love. her caresses are always tucked into the back of his mind. he savors the feeling of her warmth against his cheek.
🐬it takes him a while to get used to your touch, but once he warms up, he’s never letting go.
🐬he loves forehead kisses. it was a form of endearment that his mother had given him. and you had unknowingly used the same tactic.
🐬he loves the feeling of your skin flush against his. it’s soothing as the two of you share warmth in such an intimate way.
🐬when the two of you are alone, he’s full cuddles. he doesn’t care if you need to do your night routine. or if you need to go to the bathroom. man’s gonna cling to you like a koala.
🐬loves being the big spoon. will fight you for it. but if you catch him at the right moment, he may let you spoon him.
🐬bear hugs. that’s it that’s the post.
🐬he still needs to be the king in public, but his affection doesn’t cease. his hand is often found pressing against the small of your back. against your neck to guide you through the crowds of people. gently brushing against your arm as you stand near him.
🐬he LOVES gift giving. and most importantly, he loves marking you as his. please wear all the jewelry he gives you. it will make his heart melt and his eyes soften every time he looks at you
🐬hear me out. matching bracelets.
🐬he loves when you take time to learn about his culture and his language. not many people are privy to such knowledge. and the fact that you want to learn makes him so happy.
🐬jealous. possessive. he can’t lose another person he loves. his heart can’t take another break.
🐬he keeps you as close as can be. sometimes the two of you argue whether you can be left alone or not. it always ends with tears and small words.
🐬he hates when you cry. but he needs to keep you safe. makes it up to you by giving you pretty flowers he picked from the surface world.
🐬spoils you so much. even if you don’t ask for anything, he will give you anything. jewelry? done. food? only the most lavishing seafood and fruits for you. your enemy’s head on a platter? he’ll burn the world for you
🐬tldr he’s such a simp. it’s hard to make him fall, but once he falls in love he falls hard
🐬ps give him lots of affection. he’s touch starved. he melts whenever you praise him and call him your pretty boy
summary: after many years on the surface, your body fails you for the first time in forever. you get sick. k’uk’ulkan isn’t happy. and neither are his generals when they have to drag their king back to his duties.
🌊 both you and k’uk’ulkan had agreed it would be better for you to stay on the surface. he had to tend to his duties in talokan, and only you were able to go undercover and obtain the information he needed in order to keep his people safe.
🌊 but that doesn’t stop him from frequently visiting. he’ll show up in the night with a soft smile as you scold him. he could’ve been caught. or seen. or worse. k’uk’ulkan just brushs off these worries with a flick of his hand and another pearled bracelet in his hands as a gift.
🌊 these sporadic visits in the night kept you aware of the hidden world the two of you were fighting for. and with a soft kiss on the lips, he would leave like he was never there in the first place.
🌊 you did a lot of work in the absence of your amante. you looked into the public affairs of foreign countries. working as a journalist, you were able to slowly worm your way into the dark webs of the inner affairs of the governments.
🌊 you would smile and share the words of the public opinion with a fake smile and a microphone in your hand. but past those useless arguements and coverups, you were able to hack your way into the mainframes of america. and that includes all the files pertaining towards their newest goal. vibranium.
🌊 and just like that. you would disappear. the fbi and cia were unaware that someone had slipped past their walls and into the inner circle of strange and unknown.
🌊 alas, you had worked hard to gain the valuable plans that would help talokan thwart america once again in their greedy pursuit for weaponry and power. but it seems that you aren’t as invincible as your lying and stealing skills had convinced you to be.
🌊 you woke up, mere days later from fleeing from america and into a remote village near the waves of the gulf of mexico. just past the boarder.
🌊 you could feel that something was wrong. your body felt tingly, and not in the adrenaline sense of excitement when you get into dangerous situations.
🌊 the warm air of the coast scratched against your sore throat as you gulped down air greedily. you winced, feeling like small blades were scratching against the back of your throat. you sat up with a groan as you brushed messy hair out of your eyes.
🌊 despite the small protest that traveled up your spine, you got up and headed towards the small living room of the cottage. the coffee table was filled with messy papers and encrypted files. markers and empty cups of tea and coffee were half hazardly scattered on the floor.
🌊 you were still decoding the files you had secretly taken. retrieval was just the first part you had to accomplish before anything else. you slumped against the couch for a moment. your eyelids fluttered as you let out a sigh, cringing at the feeling of your dry and raw throat as you looked up at the cieling.
🌊 you drank the rest of the half empty water bottle you had left the night before, and got to work. with your laptop open, you began to slowly move your fingers against the keyboards.
🌊 a few minutes into focusing on the encryption code had your fingertips pulsing gently. a strange pressure made the skin tingle like you had laid on your hand and let it fall asleep. you cleared your throat, wiping the thin sheet of sweat on your arm as you ignored it.
🌊 it was a slow, tedious process. one that you had been working on for days, and surely another few weeks before you were able to make a full report to k’uk’ulkan.
🌊 speaking of the devil. you paused as you thought, leaning your neck against the back of the soft material of the couch as you stared up at the cieling once more. he must’ve been busy. each day america gets closer and closer towards the hidden veins of vibranium. you were sure that he was working himself and his generals into the abyss with the patrols.
🌊 all the more reason to work harder. he needed this information no matter what. with newfound determination, you resumed your work with heavy limbs and something slowly scratching itself down your throat.
🌊 each day you woke up you felt worse. a headache had decided you were the newest victim. you had to shut all the curtains and windows in order to work. the light made your eyes water and your head pound more. your sore throat only got worse despite the green tea and honey you consumed like a lifeline.
🌊 your nerves were on fire. every few minutes a dull cramp or pain would play on your body like a broken melody, making you grunt at the feeling. you had gotten used to the pain on the third day. but the steady pounding in your head had made it harder to look at the dim screen before you.
🌊 with another protest from your body, you decided it wouldn’t hurt to lay down for a bit. a shiver caressed your skin as you wrapped yourself up in another soft blanket. you promised yourself just an hour of sleep before getting back to work. yeah. just an hour. nothing more.
🌊 a faint noise woke you up, your eyes widening as you frantically looked around. it took a few moments for your eyes to focus as the pounding eagerly returned. you grimaced as you held your head, your heart beat pulsing erratically throughout your whole body as your world began to spin.
🌊 warm hands pressed against the sides of your neck as you jolted, a sick whimper escaping your mouth as you swallowed dryly. there was another mutter of noise before the warmth pressed itself against the back of your head and began to gently massage the base of your neck.
🌊 ‘in yakunaj’ a familiar voice spoke as your ears cleared from the ringing. you squinted up at k’uk’ulkan’s figure as he spoke. his eyes were wide as he cooed at you.
🌊 ‘are you okay?’ it took a moment for the fog in your brain to let you process what he said, watching in a daze as his lips moved and gleamed against the new source of light that came from the open door.
🌊 ‘yea... yeah. just needed a moment. you startled me.’ you spoke, your tongue heavy in your mouth as you looked at him. you scanned over his figure, searching for any scars or new wounds to present itself against his gorgeous skin. there were none.
🌊 he gently cradled your head, pressing his forehead against yours for a second before yelping. the wet water droplets on his face quickly evaporating against the hot aura you exuded.
🌊 ‘Táan a sáastal!’ he exclaimed. his eyes wide. it took a moment for your brain to process what he said. ‘you’re burning up.’ he repeated once he saw the faint confusion in your eyes.
🌊 you waved him off as you tried to sit up straight, the world spun as you desperately grasped at his arms to steady yourself. you felt out of breath as you huffed to yourself.
🌊 ‘you haven’t been taking care of yourself in pixamech.’ he brushed greasy hair away from your forehead. you wanted to protest. that you weren’t sick. you just needed a few more days until the code was cracked. you could feel it in your soul that you were closer than you’ve ever been to gaining valuable information.
🌊 k’uk’ulkan pressed his beads against your heart, the vibranium gently pulsing with your heart as he assessed your situation once more.
🌊 ‘i’ll be back.’ he muttered, giving you another soft kiss before rushing out the door. the heat on your body made it hard to ignore the soft beckonning of sleep as your eyelids closed.
🌊 next time you awoke in your bed. a cool, wet cloth was pressed against your forehead. you took in a deep breath before opening your eyes. k’uk’ulkan was laying beside you, watching you intensely as you processed the view before you.
🌊 ‘... what are you doing.’ your lover smiled, pressing the cloth back against your forehead as you turned to look at him.
🌊 ‘taking care of you, sweetling.’ he sat up, the wings on his ankles fluttering as he quickly came back with a bowl of a strange colored liquid. you raised your eyebrow as you sat up against the sudden arrangement of pillows behind you.
🌊 ‘drink. this will help you.’ you took the bowl in your hands before looking back at k’uk’ulkan.
🌊 ‘what is this.’ he shrugged his shoulders, folding his arms in front of his chest as he spoke. ‘medicine.’
🌊 ‘made of...?’
🌊 ‘natural healing herbs found in talokan. nothing but the best for my little Ch'íich'.’ he just called you a bird. wtf.
🌊 his eager expression urged you to slowly sip the thick liquid, a astoundingly bitter taste blooming along your tastebuds as you gagged. before you could pull the bowl away from your chapped lips, he grabbed ahold of your jaw and the back of the bowl. with a thumb against your lips, he parted them to quickly pour the blue green medicine in your mouth. the heavy weight of his palm against your throat had you gulping down the concoction as he gave you an approving smile.
🌊 you glared at him weakly, spluttering at the god awful taste that remained in your mouth. he gave you a blinding smile before handing you a small, round orb.
🌊 ‘good in yakunaj.’ he praised. you stared at the small candy that he handed you before sighing. he was treating you like a child. and despite all this, you still listened and ate the candy. the taste of honey and fruit bursted in your mouth as you hummed softly.
🌊 he urged you to lay back down, curling his warm frame against yours. he let you lay against his chest, your breath gently ghosting the damp skin as he played with your hair. his heartbeat was steady as you closed your eyes, sleep quickly taking you into its grasps.
🌊 you felt better. so much better than when it felt like your head was going to pop itself out of your skull. and all you had to thank was k’uk’ulkan who showered you with fresh fruit and warm bread and more bitter medicine every day. he barely left your side other than to return to the ocean and returning.
🌊 he was like a puppy. giving you soft smiles and kisses every time you ate your soup or took the medicine he kept on giving you. and when you weren’t eating, he forced you to lay down and rest. even if you weren’t sleeping, he always curled himself against you. let you soak in his body warmth and humming soft songs.
🌊 but it seemed that today wasn’t a peaceful day. it felt like almost a week had passed since you had gotten so sick. and each day your king was here to give you praise and soft kisses against your forehead.
🌊 that was until the door burst open, startling you. k’uk’ulkan just grasped you tighter and let his broad back shield your figure from the angry words. you only felt pity when you saw who came into the room. namora seemed exasperated, her eyes looking at her king before looking at you.
🌊 ‘In ajawo', yaan a k'a'. Ma' a desaparecer ichil k'iin ka k'iin.’ you muffled the laugh in your hands as k’uk’ulkan glared at you. namora was ripping her king a new one.
🌊 turns out the king of talokan. their god. had disappeared for several days, leaving his generals in charge of scrambling around to help the people. all because you were sick and he was too caring.
🌊 namora quickly grasped his hand, looking him straight into his eyes as she barked at him.
🌊 ‘my king. you cannot just disappear without telling us. your duties await.’
🌊 his full lips pulled into a pout as he grasped you tighter.
🌊 ‘in yakunaj’ he looked at you for help. all you did was gently push him away and press a kiss against his forehead.
🌊 ‘my love. you need to return. talokan awaits you. and so does namora. and attuma.’
🌊 he gave an exasperated sigh before slowly seperating himself from the warm nest the two of you had made. namora gave you a quick nod before storming out of the small cottage.
🌊 you blew k’uk’ulkan a small kiss. giving him a bright smile you waved goodbye.
🌊 ‘In ajawo, i will see you when i return back to talokan. and please, don’t trouble namora anymore.’ he gave you a playful smirk as he left, his words echoing into the warmth of the cottage.
🌊 ‘only for you, my love.’
syran here. guess who got sick after five years going on strong? hope ya’ll stay safe and healthy because its flu season yay. happy holidays and keep reading!
summary: soulmate au! k'uk'ulkan finds solace. he finds home. he finds the warmth he's been craving since the passing of his mother. he finds you.
there's been a change in their king. the people can feel it. it warms the water and leaves a bright smile that fills the void in his eyes. the wrinkles around his eyes don't hold the weight of the world. there is no longer an endless longing buried beneath his benelovence.
no one knows why he changed. but they can feel it. and it makes them happy.
no one knows his secret.
the name he keeps close to his chest. it curls around him like the embrace of his mother. it keeps close and calms him.
the precious ink that stains his skin feels too precious to show off. he almost feels selfish. knowing that there is finally someone for him.
his little secret is kept underneath the layers of pearls and jade. protected in the vibranium necklaces, shielded away from prying eyes. its kept away from wandering eyes, with only his generals who know of his fate. but even they know better than to speak of this matter.
of his soulmate.
but k'uk'ulkan feels conflicted all the same.
his soulmate must be from the land dwellers. no foolish talokanil would hide the pride in becoming the mate of a god. of their god. their king.
there's a part of him that's afraid.
afraid that his mate would be cut from the same cloth of the colonizers. someone who is cruel and merciless.
he's afraid of liking someone after all these years. a land dweller.
a mortal.
but just like his other feelings, he tucks it aside.
because gods do not yearn. or beg, or hope.
because that is selfish. and k'uk'ulkan cannot be selfish. no matter how his heart soars when he traces the delicate ink on his skin. no matter how he wants to just disappear and traverse the lands to find them. to meet his mate after all these years alone.
he cannot be greedy. he has to be satisfied that someone was made for him. no more. no less.
because talokan is the priority. he has a people to protect, no matter who is waiting. no matter if he meets them or not.
because k'uk'ulkan is talokan's god.
and he cannot show weakness.
-
he keeps to himself when he is not checking in on his people. when he is not patrolling the ocean for any possible threats to his people.
the people who know him as k'uk'ulkan know nothing of him.
of how he dedicates his time to painting murals of his experiences. of how he loves the silence as the water laps on his skin. of the shiver that crawls upon his skin when he visits empty beaches in the middle of the night.
he likes to watch the sky. he likes to close his eyes and remember the voice of his mother when she pointed to the murals in the sky. of the legends they leave behind, and a small light to guide the lost.
for once its peaceful.
he takes a moment to just breath. to seperate himself from his role as a king. a god.
his heart beats for someone else, yet he isn't allowed to reach out. for his and their safety. for safety of his people.
he has this constant warmth. its a blessing and a curse. that there is someone waiting for him. reminding him that he has to put his duties first. before his happiness.
he feels broken sometimes. like a shell left on the beach to dry and crack alone, buried beneath the merciless grains of sand and the desperate drops of salty water.
and when the sun rises, he is gone. unknown to the world. back into the vast waters.
-
they say you can feel when you meet your soulmate. that there's a bright flash of light. or time seems to slow down. that their touch burns.
they say its like coming home after wandering, lost in a endless blizzard.
they say it is magical. something you can never forget. something to replay in your head over and over again.
it feels like coming home.
you didn't expect anything. there's seven billion people on the earth. there's aliens who attacked earth. some strange giant who destroyed half the population and heroes who brought them back.
statistically, it is unlikely you will ever meet your soulmate.
but there's a small hope in your chest. a small candle that you never extinguish, never feed. it stays the same as years pass by. as you meet people and gain experiences.
there's a part of you that feels empty. insecure. maybe this is your fate. ununique. unimportant. a side character without a story to follow.
that maybe the universe gave you someone out of your reach.
the people around you say it takes time. that you'll know when you're ready. you've got a long time ahead of you to enjoy.
you're impatient. and greedy. and above else.
lonely.
you want someone to come home to. to embrace. to hold close. you want your picture to be complete. but right now the puzzle is broken and you've lost the last piece.
so instead you try to fill the void. you meet people. go on dates. make friends and laugh.
there's a part of you that still doubts. that reminds you that you should save yourself for your soulmate. that there's no point in trying when every date has ended in failure. making you feel worse than the day before.
it doesn't work. despite having friends it feels like you don't belong. you're in the conversation, yet no one realizes when you disappear. no one says anything when you say nothing. no one is looking at you.
so you keep to yourself. keep your eyes down and your dwindled hopes away from the winded torments of life.
you wander aimlessly.
and today, or rather, tonight you found yourself at the beach. away from the large parties and hotels. away from the bustle of the locals and villagers. of their happy smiles and happy embraces.
you don't care that the wind nips at your face. it makes your eyes water.
for once, it feels like peace.
there's a sense of serenity that sits in the pit of your stomach. it clings to you like the grains of sand on your bare feet. you submerge yourself halfway into the salty water. the warmth washes over you, a reminder that even when the sun sets it isn't completely cold and desolate.
the wind brushes your face and gently caresses stray strands of hair from your face.
you pay no mind to how your trousers cling to you, wet and heavy. instead you distract yourself with the warm sand beneath your feet. smooth and pliant.
you run your hand across the water, letting the salt stick to your skin as you make small waves around you.
the beat of your heart is slow as you look into the vast ocean. endless. warm. an embrace you never knew you missed.
a silent melody reaches your ears, urging you to open your eyes and look. something pricks in the back of your neck. to look.
something is there.
a sharp breath escapes you when you open your eyes, looking straight at the figure in the water.
he is far. yet it feels like he's close enough to where you could feel the heat emitting from his body.
his bronze skin glistens in the cool colors of blue and purple. he looks foreign. far different from how the locals dress. or the tourists. his body is almost bare except for the extravagent jewelry that anoints his body.
it feels like a dream. your heart beats wildly in its cage as he slowly approaches. his eyes scorch straight into your figure, and you shiver. it feels like being cornered by a predator. it feels like the end.
yet the tips of your fingers tingle. you can feel the exciement in the air. the serenity that had made its home in your body only seems to grow stronger as he approaches.
he stops, right in front of you.
he doesn't say a word.
you feel his dark, warm eyes rove over your figure. his gaze briefly flickers to the background around you before honing in on your face.
this stranger is breath taking. you never met someone who truly felt like they stole the air out of your lungs. never made your heart beat heavy like a drum.
the skin right above your collarbone burns. right where ink stains your skin.
you gulp.
his voice is deep. a nice, low baritone that washes over you like the small waves from the ocean. it feels like the sun came back just for you. to shower you in warmth and embrace you with the hold of a lover.
he utters your name. low and breathless. you don't know how he knows your name. but it feels right.
it feels right in the way that his plush lips form to say your name. how it comes out almost like a purr. uttered softly, like a secret only you are allowed to know.
his movements are slow. almost like you are the prey in front of him. a tiny bird waiting to flee at the first sight of danger.
he cups your cheek in his large hand, gently caressing you as you inhale sharply.
there's no bright light. no time stopping. no feeling like you've been welcomed home.
there's only peace.
for once the small voices in your head do not whisper their insecurities.
his gaze is intense as he pulls away. you call his name. the one that you've spent ages staring at.
his eyes widen.
his heart flutters like the wings on his ankle.
for once it is not namor.
it isn't sin namor. it isn't k'uk'uklan.
its his name. the one his mother used when she was still alive. he had almost forgotten it. because when he had his mother he was allowed to make mistakes. to learn.
before he became the king. when he had to grow up and choose talokanil's happiness over his own.
k'uk'ulkan is a god. namor is a ruthless warrior.
but to you. he is not a god. not a king. not a murderer who endlessly tried to avenge the suffering of his people.
to you, he is but another person in the world. without the weight of a hidden kingdom. not a freak mutant. not a little, helpless boy.
and for once, the both of you feel like you've found what you've been looking for.
Rating: General (fluff, confessions, general cuteness)
Word count: 1.2k
Summary: After the King of Talokan confesses his love to you, he leaves you with a gift. Reader isn’t gendered, no use of y/n
A/N: this is a birthday present for my absolutely wonderful friend Mika!! Hope you’ve had the happiest of birthdays 🥳
What a strange thing it was to have a god-king look at you with eyes so vulnerable.
"I understand if you do not want to answer me right now. So I will give you this and leave you in peace,” He presented you with a shell, an Atecocolli. It's coiling spine was covered in intricate, raised patterns that your fingers couldn't help but admire. You traced the shell’s spout as he traced your knuckles.
After a long breath filled with salt-dusted sea air, you gathered the courage to look at him again. It felt like staring at the sun. You had no idea what to say to him but thankfully he seemed to understand that.
“Should you ever need me, my love, speak my name into it as you would a whisper in my ear. When you place it in the water, I will be with you as soon as I can."
"How?"
"Your voice will call me to you." He replied, and he looked forward to hearing it.
The king’s body dipped as he brought your knuckle to his lips. His eyes poured into yours as he did it.
He'd never felt more vulnerable than when he confessed his love for you a few moments ago. He tore a cavity in his chest and bore his soul to you, his heart. He asked only that you respond to his confession when you feel ready. So one day, when courage possessed you, you did just that. You raised the shell to your lips, let the fresh sea air fill your lungs, and whispered his name softly, as you would a prayer.
"K'uk'ulkan…” and then let the shell sink into the sand to be taken by the sea.
You could barely hear your own voice over the wind yet it drifted through the ocean - through currents and reefs, past lightning-fast fish and rippling jellyfish tendrils - until it reached the pointed ears of the man you wanted to hear it. He heard it from his place on his throne, seated within a megalodon's jagged jaws. Your voice floated across his sensitive ears like a ghost of a kiss and he sighed in relief and ecstacy at the sound. He adored how you tasted his name on your tongue.
He emerged from the waves and stood before you not long after with the Atecocolli clutched in one hand and his spear in the other. It was then that you were reminded that the man who told you that he loved you was indeed a god. He was built like one, with his broad back, chest and shoulders. His face longed to be immortalised in stone for how strong his jaw was, how beautiful his nose. Seawater stuck silken hair to his forehead, the droplets rolling down his body drawing branches into his skin like veins in marble.
His entire being ought to have been carved from marble but the stone surely wouldn’t do him justice, you thought. A sculpture could never capture the gentle starlight in his eyes.
“Are you alright?” He asked, checking you weren’t calling him for aid. You nodded and he took a breath of short-lived relief. “You have thought about what I said…"
"I have." You confirmed.
"Then I beg you to put my misery to rest,” He pleaded, throat bobbing. No matter what your answer was, he had to hear it.
He handed you back the Atecolli, the shell so large you had to cradle it with both hands. It was an extension of reassurance that even if you didn’t love him back he’d still come to your aid, he’d still keep you safe and visit if you asked.
You hesitated, let the air hang a moment longer and the wind whip through your clothes. He thought that was that - a rejection. He prepared himself to change the subject and bid your farewell so he might wallow in his longing alone. He didn't realise you were simply gathering courage to do something you'd been wanting to for longer than he could possibly imagine a mortal waiting for anything with lifespans so short.
“Do I frighten you?” He asked with eyes so soft they put the sand beneath your feet to shame.
The question confused you. “No,” you answered quietly. “Not at all.”
“Why then do you tremble?”
He was right, you were trembling. Whether it was from anticipation or something else, he couldn’t tell. But he couldn’t escape the sinking feeling that maybe he had scared you and that was why your body shook.
He had never before cared what another being thought about him. He’d never had to. He ruled with dignity and respect for his people and they returned that sentiment. His enemies? He couldn’t have cared less. But you? He cared that the sun shone bright enough for you, that the grass you walked upon stayed green. He cared so deeply about how you perceived him that it scared him at first. But then he realised that he, the King of Talokan, was in love with you. That’s why he cared. As the realisation dawned on him, he’d never felt more vulnerable and so sickeningly human.
"In yaakunech,” your voice broke him out of his spiralling thoughts. I love you.
He stilled and grew quiet for a moment and you worried you'd misspoken or that he was perhaps offended by you speaking his mother tongue. Then his eyelids fluttered closed, guarding the beautiful brown from your gaze. When his eyes re-opened, they watered and his mouth bore a smile so wide it must have hurt.
"Thank you. Thank you." His quivering hand cupped your cheek and leaned his forehead against yours and you stood there just enjoying the ease of which you could be with one another. The warmth radiated off him, cutting through the cool ocean breeze. "You have no idea how I have yearned to hear that from you. Thank you, in yakunaj.”
My love. He called you his love and he meant it with his whole heart. Those words were a promise.
He was half a millennia in age and all around him his loved ones perished with the slow yet inevitable crawl of time. One day he would lose you too as he did all things eventually. So your time together would be short but precious. He was grateful that his longing could end and that you could be together, even if for a little while.
(A/N): Hello everyone this is my first fic where I don't take requests ((And first Namor Fic!))but get ideas by spinning three wheels in an app. One wheel has characters that I like, Second sentences that I will be using, the third is the AUs it would be set in. The third Wheel has only Soulmates AUs, but if I got inspired I might add another AU to future stories, just to make them more interesting. Without further or do, I hope you enjoy this one.
Character: Namor / Ku'ku'lkán
Alphabet AU: A...Aging stops at 18 until you find your soulmate so the two of you can grow old together.
Sentence number: 40 - "Anywhere with you is everywhere I want to be."
Warnings: black panther forever spoilers, angst, mentions of injuries, fluff at the end, grammatic error. (If i missed any warnings please tell me.)
Word count: 9,724
Aging can be a terrifying process for most.
Growing older, becoming weaker, your body changing in ways you didn't expect or understand, and having to depend on others for the smallest of things. It is indeed terrifying. That is why some people would try and stay young as long as possible, and it's not by doing the usual thing where they would use pharmaceutical products or do surgeries. But they would be going as far as doing everything in their power to not meet their soulmate, the one person who they are meant to grow old with, to finally start their life together.
In this world, people stopped aging after their 18th birthday, when they are meant to go out and explore the world and meet people in hopes that one of them is their destined partner. But meeting a soulmate is like a cruel game of guessing because you would have to spend significant time with this person in order to see if you aged or not. When realizing that none of them aged the partners would either break up immediately or stay together for the sake of not being alone, but as said before, others would do everything in their power to disconnect themselves from people for the sake of an immortal life, which is foolish since there is no true immortality, everyone dies in the end, either by fate or beside the one they love.
That's why after (Y/n)'s 18th birthday she did not waste time and ventured into the world to meet people and have new experiences in hopes that one day she would meet the one who is meant for her and her for them. Now, the longest a person stayed 18 before meeting their soulmate was less than 50 years, so imagine her surprise, disappointment, and sadness when she spent almost 300 years alone.
In the first 100 years (Y/n) was crying, not only because she still haven't found the one, but also because she saw how the world around her was going by fast, her family was dying, her close friends who already found their soulmates were growing older, forcing her to be left behind as everyone around her was living their lives. She realized that she doesn't have a place around in her hometown so she decided to leave and find a home somewhere else. During her 200 years, she explored everything she could, the different cultures, learned different languages, and learned how to fight to protect herself from those who found out about her "Situation" and wanted to use her. Shield reached out to her and asked to help them build their organization with the promise of tending to her every need as long as she lived and she took it.
(Y/n) even came across magic users, which lead her to meet the ancient one who helped her accept this long life of hers, she stayed with them a good 40 years, learning what she could about magic since she did not have the talent for mystic arts. During that time (Y/n) has already several homes around the world, thanks to the money that she was investing and the money that Shield would provide her with, she owned several weapons, mechanics, firearms, and even traditional weapons. One day she heard of an artifact in the corners of Nigeria that might hold some magical power, she didn't know what it was but she knew that if it was dangerous she needed to keep it with her or at least deliver it to the ancient one.
That's how she met King T'Chanda and found out about Wakanda.
She remembered the look of pity he gave her when she told him her story, maybe that pity is the reason why he extended a hand of friendship, and to maintain this friendship she swore that she would never speak of his country's existence. Every few years she would go there and visit him, for a while he was the same as her. He lived as a young man for a long time, which made her understand the look of pity he gave her because he understood what she was going through. So her jealousy was also understandable when she came to visit one day and found him aged a few years with his hand wrapped around a beautiful woman who was pregnant. (Y/n) held no romantic feelings for the king, but she hoped selfishly that he would remain without a soulmate like herself, that she would at least have a friend like herself. But again, she forced herself to accept the reality that she would be alone for a very long time until something came to end her life, but up until that happens she would live her life the best she could.
Now, the great thing about the Wakandan Royal family is that they accepted her as she is, they did not give her weird looks nor did they attempt to experiment on her, like how most of the world acted. She remembered how annoyed she was when T'Chanda made his son T'Chaka call her "Great Aunt" and from then on she was called as such despite her very youthful look. But she accepted in the end and even enjoyed it a bit.
Then (Y/n) entered the 20th century and everything started to go crazy. She could handle the super soldier project because it was kind of expected after seeing in what way humanity's technology was taking, especially in the name of winning a war. Then there was the time when she found out that aliens existed, which means that alien invasion was inevitable so she took the right measures and that was staying away from it, because what can she do? Immortal or not she was still a human with no power, yes she has magical items that can be used as weapons but that would be risking exposing the existence of sorcerers so she decided to just stay back, after all, Fury assured her that he has a plan and that is by assembling a team of heroes.
Where was (Y/n) during all that? Having a very long vacation in Wakanda, where she was helping Shuri test her new inventions and helping her prank her brother. She would train with T'Challa and give him bits of advice that he might need as a future king. And, Of course, she would chat with T'Chaka and Ramonda and even lecture them, which was a funny scene for their children to see them being lectured by an 18-year-old girl. Yes, she had a really close connection to the Wakandan royal family, which was understandable when she helped T'Challa try and catch his father's assassin. (Y/n) got a lot of backlash because of it from Fury when he found out the truth. It caused her to be kicked out of shield, but she didn't care because she knew that if she stopped T'Challa from seeking revenge his anger would have blinded him further, and would have probably rebelled and caused further harm not only to himself and his family, so she allowed him to let out everything from his system knowing, in the end, he would be able to find his own way back.
So it was understandable how happy she felt when T'Challa came back with the said assassin wanting to help him recover after learning why he did what he did.
Then after that in a few years, the snap happened, and (Y/n) did not disappear like half of the universe. Because of Fury's disappearance, Shield contacted her begging her to come back and help them control the chaos, which she reluctantly did. She did not want to go but Queen Ramonda assured her that they will keep in touch and that Wakanda was probably more prepared than the rest of the world, which was engulfed in chaos.
(Y/n) might have lived centuries, but those 5 years felt longer and emptier. Jumping from country to country to help assert order, calling what is left of the Avengers to see if they had anything they could use, and when she has time she would contact Shuri and Ramonda. At the start of her, "immortality" (Y/n) would have depressive episodes that she struggled greatly with but thanks to the ancient one who helped her learn how to cope with it, she thought she got over it but there she was crying in her apartment wishing that all of it would just end, the loneliness is getting to her again and she was afraid that this time she won't be able to escape it.
Thankfully, Scott Lang showed up and gave them the hope to fix all of this. When they finally built the time machine (Y/n) told them that she was going back to Wakanda to tell them the good news, coincidentally, shortly after the time of her arrival the people who had disappeared in the middle of the battlefield materialized back. (Y/n) cried with joy as she saw T'Challa reunite with his family.
After the war was over (Y/n) resigned despite Fury's attempts to persuade her to stay, but she refused because she did not want to be alone anymore. She moved permanently to Wakanda, who welcomed her with open arms. She became an unofficial consultant to King T'Challa, whether it was concerning his people or his love life she was there to aid him, same with Shuri who always told her about different types of shields and weapons that she could create for (Y/n) to protect herself with since she was still just a human, she would keep Ramonda company when her children were too occupied with their work to be with her.
They were her family, her people, but she knew that one day she would have to say goodbye to them as she continued living, but she didn't expect that goodbye would come much too soon with T'Challa.
(Y/n) was with Shuri in the lab trying to help her think of how to bring the plant back to save him, if they could turn back time to save half the universe then why not bring back an extinct plant to save their king. But when T'Challa asked to see them, (Y/n) went while Shuri stayed back saying that she was so close and can't waste time.
"I… I have a request to make-" His words were cut off by a harsh cough, which caused (Y/n) to hurry to his side in an attempt to soothe him.
"Don't strain yourself." She lectured but T'Challa shook his head and waved his hand to those who were in the same room extracting them to leave them alone, before turning back to her.
"My great aunt…" He murmured with a tired smile, which caused (Y/n)'s heart to ache as she fought back tears.
"I know that I might be asking too much of you…" he uttered between gasps as he struggled to breathe. "Take it … as a dying man's … final wish…"
"Don't say that, Shuri and I will find a way to bring back the plant and you will be good again." she assured. "Just … please hang on a little bit longer."
He just smiled at her, which caused (Y/n) to break into tears, T'Challa squeezed her hand as a way to comfort her but it only made her cry more as his hold was also weak.
"I'm sorry to have caused you more pain…I know you had gone through enough loss… but…my time is coming soon, I can feel it." He tried to reason but (Y/n) only shook her head, refusing to acknowledge such truth. T'Challa decided to continue.
"Please look after them…" He finally confessed. "Not my mother and sister only…"
(Y/n) immediately understood the implication and looked at him and nodded as she wiped her tears.
"And don't tell Shuri…she is not ready… at least not now."
Throughout her life (Y/n) saw many different reactions to loss. Some cried and screamed until they had nothing else to let out. Others raged out, breaking everything in front of them and even fighting others. There are those few who ignored it and continue with life as if nothing had happened, very few accept it. but the reaction that she saw the most of, was acting hastily and irrationally. Whether it was by saying something they don't mean or doing something that they might regret later thinking it was the best decision while they were high on emotions. Both (Y/n) and the queen understood that things weren't safe enough to bring T'Challa's son, not only the world but also Wakanda, and if Shuri found out she would probably demand that the boy be brought back or she would go to him, which would risk his safety because they still don't know how she would act when she does meet him. So after the King's death, Ramonda and (Y/n) grieved with Shuri and did their best to help her cope with her emotions.
After a year of isolating herself in her lab, Ramonda decided to take Shuri out one night so she might connect with her daughter again, which (Y/n) encouraged. She expected many reactions after their return.
Anger, more sadness, neutral as if nothing happened, and the reaction she hoped for was happiness and acceptance, but what she did not expect was both of them to return with a look of pure fear and worry.
"There was this kid- well he looked like a kid but he isn't, he has wings on his ankles!... he just comes out from the water and started making demands-" Shuri was trying to explain to (Y/n) who was lost and trying to understand her.
"Shuri, breath dear, who are you speaking about?" (Y/n) Asked with great concern.
"He said his name was Namor."
When they explained her situation more clearly, (Y/n) to try and help them come up with a plan on what they should do, she told Ramonda how some will agree to just give him the American scientist to do whatever he wants with them and that others will demand a fight. She must be the neutral ground so that they won't dare judge any decision she makes. So she decided to just bring the scientist, to at least be protected by them, and then on they would negotiate with this "Namor" person.
"What if we took great aunt with us?" piped in Shuri and her mother and Okoye's not so whispered conversation. "Maybe even call in my favorite colonizer."
Ramonda was hesitant when she thought it was only Okoye and Shuri but having the great aunt with them reassured her a bit, that's why (Y/n) can't imagine how she must be as she stared up at the walls of the cave around her. She was the first to wake up after she, Shuri, and Riri were taken by the blue soldiers whom she assumed were Namor's. The women that were assigned to them, who were also blue, motioned for her to come with them, giving sleeping Shuri one last look (Y/n) hesitantly followed her to a room covered in murals, and in the middle of it He stood.
"I assumed you are Namor?" She questioned, earning his attention.
When their eyes met (Y/n)'s heart thumped heavily against her rib cage, her body felt as if something washed over her as if something was lifted, and looking at him she could tell he probably felt it too because he gave her a look of bewilderment. Before any of them could say anything another woman came and told him something and he replied to her an order before she bowed and left.
"It looks like the princessa is awake." He stated, his voice causing a shiver to go down her spine.
"If you dared to harm her, I swear to-"
"All of you surface dwellers are the same, always marching to fight without thinking." He replied.
"Says the guy whose people ambushed us on the bridge and then kidnapped us."
"If I remember correctly it was you who came to me willingly."
"And allow you to kill an innocent soul?"
"I will kill thousands if it meant the safety of my people!"
Before she could reply to him Shuri came in and stood between him and (Y/n), in an attempt to protect her after hearing his last statement.
"And if you dared to harm my great aunt it would be you who dies next!" She threatened while glaring at him.
"Great aunt?" Repeated Namor with a puzzled look as his eyes darted between Shuri and her. then it clicked, and he focused on (Y/n). "How old are you?"
"You know … up there it's rude to ask for a woman's age." (Y/n) jested as she deflected the question, not trusting him enough to tell him anything about herself.
Having a closer look at the boy in front of her she realized that he was also around her age, he had a lean yet fit body, and his face was bare from facial hair, the thing that is giving him some sense of maturity was the accessories that he wore but from the way that he was acting he must be like her, stuck in this young body until they met their significant other, she didn't know if he was older or younger than her but what she does now is that this long life can have different effects on people, and since he was so determined to protect his people to the level of taking innocent lives she can tell he was unbalanced.
He asked to talk to Shuri privately since she was only true royalty of Wakanda, but (Y/n) still insisted to keep a safe distance so she can see them, and every now and then her eyes met his when Shuri wasn't paying attention, it's as if he was examining her and she couldn't blame him because she was doing the same thing to him. (Y/n) protested when he offered for Shuri to see his home but the princess assured her that she was going to be safe, when she did come back after what felt like forever she was met with a tight hug.
"I'm fine." Shuri assured as she hugged her back.
"I'm just glad that you're back safe." (Y/n) pulled away enough to examine the princess, then glared at Namor who chuckled at your actions.
"Great aunt I'm fine… it… it was beautiful!" Shuri exclaimed excitedly.
Shuri started chattering away to (Y/n) about the city that she saw, the Talokan, its people, and the "sun" that he had built for them, Namor was right beside them listening in, probably to make sure she doesn't tell too much.
"She is the first from the surface to come to Talokan." He confined before pulling out a bracelet to give it to Shuri. "Please take this as a token of our gratitude."
Before Shuri could accept his gift (Y/n) stopped him, being suspicious.
"What is it?" Shuri was about to lecture her about being too paranoid, but Namor's answer confirmed her suspicions.
"It was made with the plant that saved Talokan." He informed as he continued to give the bracelet to Shuri and tight on her wrist, he was staring at (Y/n) as if silently challenging her to stop him again before turning back to Shuri.
"You are young, Princess." He Stated. "When you age as I do, you realize we all lose everyone we love."
"But when I lost my brother, it just felt different." Shuri said with grief in her voice. "He suffered in silence. When he finally asked me to help him I couldn't"
(Y/n) hugged her in an attempt to comfort her and the princess leaned into it as she fought tears.
"How does it make sense that the ancestors would give me gifts and skills to help me save my brother, and I couldn't?... Why?"
"I don't have an answer for that question." Replied Namor.
"But I do…" (Y/n) chimed in earning both their attention. "My dear, I won't go into a long rant about what the ancestors were planning for you. I have lived long enough and have come across many religions, but most of them if not all believed in similar things and that life challenges us to become better. It can be a very painful journey, but what I know for sure is that you can never come out as the defeated if you knew how to harvest those talents and skills along with those emotions you can be better, not only for yourself but for everyone around you."
Shuri sat there as if she was not convinced by what (Y/n) just said, even pulling herself away from her hold, which saddened her. Seeing the woman's frown Namor felt the need to comfort her, but he didn't know how until he finally said.
"My ancestors would often say, "Only the most broken people can be great leaders"." Those words earned him the two women's attention again.
"I admire what you have built here." Started Shuri. "And you've protected your people. But as a princess of Wakanda, I will not stand for you killing that young woman."
They tried reasoning with the king but their efforts were in vain as every time they tried to reason with him, promising him that they will do everything to protect not only his people but also the secrecy of their existence, he refused. Their conversation was cut short when one of his people came and told him that the queen was there to speak with him.
"You said you wanted to burn the world." He said to Shuri. "Let's burn it together."
And before he left completely he gave a glance to (Y/n), which she returned. When they went back to Riri to tell her of the possible upcoming war, Shuri and (Y/n) tried to discuss their next move, not noticing when Nakia came shooting one of the women warriors, then the poor terrified girl who was tending to them.
"We need to go." Nakia urged but both Shuri and (Y/n) refused to.
"Give me the beads I can save her." the princess ordered.
"Shuri, I don't know who this lady is, but we need to listen to her." Riri pleaded, fear clear on her face.
"Listen, I hit her with a sonic round, it is lethal from this distance. There is no chance." Nakia informed.
"You don't understand this will mean war." Shuri argued back.
(Y/n), sick of their banter, pulled Shuri's hands away from the injured girl before pulling her own beads and started aiding her herself.
"Shuri, go." (Y/n) ordered.
"Great aunt-"
"I said GO!"
With that said Nakia pulled Shuri away knowing that there is no time to also convince (Y/n) to come with them, the princess was a priority and both of them knew that. The immortal woman refused to pull away from the injured girl until she was sure that the bleeding stopped, she was so focused that she did not notice when Namor came behind her, and upon seeing the blood he pulled (Y/n) away harshly to kneel beside the girl and hold her head in his hands.
"What happened my child?" He spoke in his language, which (Y/n) did not understand, she was about to say something but stopped when another warrior came and slammed her to the ground pinning her.
"The Wakandans….they came for her." she struggled to speak, before pointing to (Y/n). "She stayed…"
Namor looked to the pinned surface dweller who did not struggle against his warrior's hold, as if to show her submission.
"K'uk'ulkan…." The girl called, grasping his attention again. "Can you save me?"
At her question, Namor looked down at her wound and found it mostly closed and the bleeding has stopped thankfully.
"You are going to be safe my child." He said before turning to one of the warriors and giving him an order, the warrior knelt to pick up the girl and hurried out of the cave.
He stood up and walked to (Y/n), who could only see his feet, but she assumed that he was staring down at her, and he was. Another woman came dressed in red to speak with him.
"They came… while you spoke to the queen?" She questions. "We should not have trusted her, the queen has seen our home, what is stopping them from coming for Talokan?"
"I will…" He replied. "With her here."
Namor order the warriors to bring her to his hut, and even though they did it harshly by pulling her up and dragging her around like a rag doll (Y/n) still did not fight back and kept calm. She was forced to stand in front of him as they were left alone and Namor knew it was a struggle for the woman for he can see how her figure was shaking slightly, yet her face held a stern look.
"You attempted to kill my people." He started.
"You kidnapped their princess, what did you expect them to do? To set back and wait?" (Y/n) shot back, which earned her a scowl from the king.
"If that child have died it would be your head on a spike right now."
"But she didn't."
Namor was in front of her in an instant and grabbed her by the neck and squeezed, not giving her any chance to breathe, and just watched as (Y/n) struggled.
"I could snap your neck like a twig right now and they won't care. The Wakandans have proven to be just as worst as the rest of the surface dwellers after I have shown my home and people to her and you dare to still defend them in front of me."
"B..Because…" (Y/n) struggled to take breaths as she spoke. "You…are a rash … brat!"
With those words Namor let her go, causing her to fall to the ground as she took quick breaths.
"A brat?" He repeated. "I may look young but I assure you I am older than your great great grandfather."
"And I can be your great great GREAT grandmother." She retorted mockingly. "You are not special just because you lived long, because you are not acting it."
"How dare you insult me!" He seethed.
"No." (Y/n) stopped him from talking more as she stood on her feet. "You are the one who came out of nowhere demanded an innocent life delivered to you, and even when you had her you still wanted more. you didn't want peace from the start you just want the war to quench your own rage against humanity."
"They are the ones who threatened my people's existence by exposing their resources, causing them to hunger for it."
"Maybe they shouldn't have done that, but to be fair Wakanda did not know of your people's existence when they revealed themselves they were ready to fight the world by themselves, they didn't know of Talokan, or else it would have been a different story." (Y/n) continued. "Listen, what happened has happened and we cannot change it, but what we can change is what will happen next. Both the Wakandans and I have ways to assure Talokan's safety, we can-"
"I don't need your help!" He bawled. "I gave Wakanda their chance to yield and they threw it away."
"See! There you go again and you say why I call you a child."
Namor reached out to her and (Y/n) closed her eyes and held her hands up ready for pain but it didn't come, and when she opened her eyes slowly she could see that he had stepped back and given her his back as he faced the murals of his people.
"The only reasons you are still alive are two." He said as he turned back to face her, his face suspiciously calm. "The first is because you stayed to save one of my people, which I would be lying if I said I wasn't grateful for."
He started taking a few steps toward her making her take a few steps back until her back touched the door, he stopped in front of her and leaned forward, his face inches from her own. (Y/n) wasn't the same teenage girl who would get flustered over the smallest things, like a charming smile, or a wink but she doesn't understand why was her heart beating fast she was face to face with a man in an isolated cave that she can never escape from, who can kill her at any desired moment. She would have marked it as fear if she didn't feel her face heating up.
"You are welcome." She replied, trying to make light of her emotions. "And what is the second reason?"
"Isn't it obvious?" He asked rhetorically, before looking to the door behind her. "Llévala!"
Suddenly, the door opened almost making her fall but was caught by the same warriors who brought her here, instead of being as compliant as she was previously, she was struggling and demanding to be let go.
"The second reason is for you to stay here as my captive, that if the princess decided to do anything stupid it would be you who will pay for it."
He promised and motioned for his hand for them to take her away, but before she was out of earshot (Y/n) said one last thing.
"Don't do anything rash you brat! It's not only the Wakandans who will suffer!"
Namor believed that those words were a threat, which fueled his determination to go and give Wakanda a taste of who they are going against.
---
(Y/n) was pacing back and forth in her cell, anxiety eating her alive as she was biting her lip until it bleed and nail until it was gone. Looking outside her cell she saw the guards who didn't move an inch since they threw her there, she tried talking to them but they either didn't understand her or just ignored her. Searching for an escape was useless, she did try to use the beads to communicate with Shuri and warn her about Namor but a cave under the sea is hardly the perfect place to find a signal to the surface let alone to Wakanda. (Y/n) made a note to herself to tell Shuri about a possible new upgrade.
She was pulled out of her train of thought when she heard the sound of splashing. She wasted no time and pressed herself against the bars and started to call.
"NAMOR!" She shouted. "Namor! Is that you!?"
Saying nothing the king came from the corner, and looked at her and when her eyes met his own she could feel a chill of fear go down her spine. (Y/n) lived long enough to know what that look meant, but she hoped to any god that is hearing her that what she was thinking was not the truth.
"What did you do?" The question slipped out unconsciously. Namor averted his eyes with an angry huff at being confronted, but in his eyes, she could see a hint of shame, and that filled her with rage. "If you hurt Shuri in any way I promise I will kill you myself!"
(Y/n) saw many people die in her long life, most of them were really dear to her, but no matter how many times she goes through the heartache doesn't become easier, especially if she was there since their birth. The only reason she was able to go through T'Chaka and T'Challa's death was that she had someone to support her and people to look after to distract herself. But here she was alone, in a cave under the sea, facing the man who probably hurt Shuri and not being able to do anything.
"No harm came to the queen." He replied simply, and that fueled her rage.
"I was talking about the princess! Not the queen!"
"She is queen now."
Namor said nothing more as he started walking away leaving (Y/n) to realize what he had meant. Before he could close the door to his chamber he can hear a distant scream of distress and a series of curses of his name. He just groaned as he isolated himself in his room trying to block her voice as he thought about his next step before the week is up. However, he couldn't do any of that for the entire time he was fighting the urge to walk to that cell and stop her from crying, not by yelling at her but by trying to reason with her, to try and justify his actions, how it was the only way. Or maybe it was just to let her let out her anger against him, give her the satisfaction to curse at him, and probably even hit him, which he know will not do any real harm to him.
It drove him crazy, but what drove him even crazier is WHY was he feeling these urges towards a surface dweller. Was it because he understood her pain? To live for so long and see everyone around you die and not be able to do anything to stop it? to not being able to say goodbye to someone you knew since their birth?
He couldn't dwell on those questions more as he realized that it became quiet again, taking the chance that her screams will not distract him Namor went immediately to planning. Determined to bring Wakanda to submit to him.
---
"There is another machine in our waters"
Namor said from outside of the cell as he stared at the back of his immortal prisoner who decided to set in the corner with her back to the exit, completely ignoring the king, which annoyed him. but he couldn't find it in himself to voice this annoyance.
"We will go and destroy it." He informed. "But there will still be a guard over you and a maid to make sure you are fed and looked after."
When he said those words his eyes landed on the bowl of fruit that was untouched and it bothered him greatly. He knew she was immortal and cannot die so easily like himself, but he knew that they were still affected by physical pains, including hunger, and (Y/n) didn't have anything for almost a week now. The only thing he was sure of to keep her functioning was the few sips of water she would take now and then. He did try to trick her once into drinking juice but when he did that she still refused to take it. Whether it was out of grief or she was just being rebellious either way, it saddened him and angered him at the same time.
He didn't even know why was he trying to talk to her now. He tried talking to her since the day he told her of what happened, but she kept ignoring him, making him feel stupid as he had a one-sided conversation, trying to justify what he did and lecturing her on how what she was doing to herself was stupid but she didn't care.
Feeling that he had wasted enough time Namor huffed in anger before turning around to leave, then he finally heard her.
"You are going to regret it."
"What?" He questioned as he turned back to her, but she went back to being quiet. "What did you just say?"
"….You are going to regret it."
(Y/n) finally looked at him from over her shoulder. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying, her hair disheveled and her skin pale from lack of nutrition. He didn't say another as she turned again and gave him her back.
Namor would have probably lashed out at her, confronting her on the threat she threw at him, but she said nothing as he turned back and walked away. it was probably because her voice did not sound threatening or taunting, but rather a statement.
---
(Y/n) eyes tiredly opened as someone was shaking her awake and calling her name in a panic. When the fog cleared up she saw that standing above and holding her in their arm is none other than Shuri, whose eyes were full of tears yet still had a relieved smile on her face. She said something that she couldn't grasp before the young princess pulled her into a hug, and mustering any strength she had left (Y/n) hugged her back as a few tears escaped her eyes.
Looking up she noticed that Namor was standing there the entire time, observing the reunion in silence, but that wasn't what drew her attention, but rather a scratch mark on his face, and one of his ankles was wrapped in bandages, he was wearing a poncho that covered his upped body but she swears she could see more, and deeper scratches littering his body. Their eyes met and looking at him (Y/n) almost didn't recognize him, she didn't know how long she was out for, but she could swear that Namor looked more mature.
"What did you do to her?!" Shuri shouted at the King, snapping him out of whatever trance he was lost in, and turned to her.
"I did not lay a finger on her or mistreated her." He clarified. "She is the one who refused to eat or drink after… the news."
He said the last part quietly as he looked away in shame. When he said that more tears showed on (Y/n) at the memory and pulled Shuri back into a hug, squeezing her as hard as she can, which wasn't a lot but it was enough for the princess who hugged her back crying silently.
"I'm so sorry my dear." (Y/n) said her voice horse from not talking or consuming anything. "I…I wish I was there… I should have…"
"You have nothing to apologize for." Shuri assured as she cut her off. "Let's just go back home."
(Y/n) let out a sound of surprise as Shuri hooked her left arm under her legs and the right one on her back before lifting her up, which shocked the weak woman.
"Are you wearing some type of a new upgrade?.. Because I'm sure that I haven't lost THAT much weight for you to just lift me like I weigh nothing."
Her question made Shuri laugh as she carried her outside the cave, passing by Namor who stayed out of their way and just followed them silently. When they reached the edge of the pool Shuri was moving around (Y/n) to give her the latest update that would help her swim easily even in her weak state. During that, she would steal glances at Namor and each time his eyes never left her. She wanted to say something but couldn't or didn't know what to say, and from his few glances at Shuri, she can tell that he was also hesitant to speak. The sound of reeving power pulled her out of her thoughts as she saw the machine wrapped around her glitter with pulsed energy indicating that it was ready.
"We can go now, just make sure you stay close to me."
She instructed before reaching around her neck to activate the mask but (Y/n) stopped her, which earned her a confused look, but her great-aunt simply turned to the king who was still standing there. Namor's face showed no emotion but he was preparing himself for her to lecture him, insult him, curse him, let out her pent-up anger, and maybe even express her disappointment since she did warn him that his rash actions would cause him to lose in more ways than one. but he didn't count on her to give him a kind smile as if they were close friends.
"I will see you again."
Not a question, but a promise. If the feeling of surprise was obvious on his face then none of the women mentioned it as they dived into the water and left. When he broke out of his surprised state he just scuffed and went back to his chamber where he will paint a mural of the battle that took place against the black panther for his people's history. But in a different part of the room, one where it was mostly for himself he painted the immortal woman, when she interacted with him, when she saved the maid, and when she was his prisoner.
"I will see you again."
The promise echoed in his head, which made him unconsciously smile while he painted her smile, secretly excited and hoping for the next meeting to come soon.
---
(Y/n) sat on her private beach under the umbrella with a book in hand, trying to relax but her eyes kept scanning over the same paragraph without absorbing any of the words as she kept recalling what happened on her last visit to Wakanda which was last week.
"I'm sorry, what??" (Y/n) exclaimed as she stared at the screen that the A.I presented for both her and Shuri, who also was in disbelief.
"Your body aged 2 years." Griot repeated as he held up 2 pictures of (Y/n) on the glass screen and started noting the slight differences. "There are discreet changes, for example, Your muscles and bones have grown stronger, your weight changed, which brings up your metabolism lowering very slightly, but it is still noticeable like the start of wrinkles showing around the eyes and acne surfacing-"
"That's enough, Griot." Shuri cuts him off as she stares at (Y/n) who was in shock.
She always knew that she was still a mortal despite her long life but for it to finally start to come close to an end without her being aware of it was overwhelming. Shuri did not leave (Y/n)'s side since they found out, she did her best to comfort her great aunt, even starting teasing her and listing to all the possible people that she had met that could be her soulmate, but (Y/n) shot every possibility down for she already had someone in mind and instead of explaining it to the now queen of Wakanda she excused herself to have alone time.
Shuri thought that when she said she wanted to be alone was to be left in her room until (Y/n) was ready to talk, she didn't expect to talk to her great aunt via call scolding her on when and how she left Wakanda without saying anything. But they worked it out. And here she was now, convincing herself that she just needed time to think about what to do next and how to approach the situation when she was in fact too afraid to actually face it.
"So this is where you have been hiding?"
A familiar voice asked making her jump away and take a fighting stance, an instinct she has from years of fighting and being ambushed, but she stopped when she saw that standing in front of her was none other than Namor, but he looked different.
"Did you grow a beard?" Was the first thing that came out of her mouth, which made him chuckle.
"Yes, it is nice to meet you again too." He replied sarcastically.
Namor still looked young except for the small amount of facial hair that looked well taken care of, and he felt her staring because he subconsciously reached his hand to his face and started scratching his beard as he averted his eyes.
"I always wanted to grow one but never got the chance with my body stuck at a certain age." He started explaining. "You could imagine my surprise when a few months after my battle with Wakanda that hair started to grow on my face."
His eyes then met hears again, none of them saying anything but the silence was loud enough for (Y/n) to understand what he was trying to say. Saying nothing the woman sat back down at her spot but this time made space beside her and patted it encouraging the king to set beside her, which he hesitantly did. They stayed quiet for a long time before he finally spoke.
"You have your own part of the sea?" it was more of a statement than a question.
"It's called a private beach." (Y/n) explained. "You can imagine how crowded and dirty public beaches are, and since I have a lot of money I bought my own, not even fishing boats are allowed around here."
"This part of the water did look cleaner as I came closer and the creatures beneath are thriving from the lack of fishermen and filth."
"I do my best to have my own little piece of heaven in this world." She shrugged, trying to hide some of the happiness she felt from his comment.
It was silence again between them, only the sound of the crashing waves can be heard, which eased any anxiety the two might have felt.
"How are your people? Since … well, you know…" She asked awkwardly just wanting to break the silence.
"They are well." He answered. "The black panther kept her promise on protecting my people's safety, although some of them are still unsure of the treaty."
"You say it as if you were ok with it." He tried to say something but she stopped him. "Don't even try to say you aren't, I know it was hard for you to submit."
She could practically see him tense for a moment as he clenched his jaws, probably angry but forced himself to calm down as he took a few breaths and closed his eyes.
"I will do anything for my people's safety… even if it means yielding to a worthy opponent."
"what wise words, I see you have grown more than just a beard and a mustache I see." (Y/n) teased him with a smile.
"A person grows in many ways throughout life…" He said before averting his eyes to the sea. "… Especially after meeting their soulmate."
(Y/n) eyes widened slightly as she too averted her eyes to the sea thinking about what to say next. She knew she can't escape the topic, but it didn't make it any easier to face it.
"When did you find out?"
"I wasn't sure at first." He started to explain. "When I noticed the changes in my body years ago I suspected that it could be either you or the panther."
"Then why didn't you say anything?" She asked annoyance clear in her voice. "It must have been nice having all that time to accept what is happening, but I only found out about my aging a couple of days ago."
"After the battle and everything that I have done, I wasn't sure if either of you wanted to see me again, let alone accept me as a soulmate." He explained as he turned fully to face her. "You must understand my hesitation to come up to the person I imprisoned or killed their mother and ask them to be with me."
Of course (Y/n) understood, but it is still frustrated her that he knew and she didn't, that he had the time to get in terms with this new reality, then come to her and confront her…
"Wait… how did you know it was me?" She questioned. "You keep saying that you suspected that it was either me or Shuri."
"She called me." He answered. "She used the shell I gave her to call me and she told me it was about you and how to reach you."
"So much for a private beach." (Y/n) muttered to herself.
"Are you…. Are you disappointed?" He stuttered out the question causing (Y/n) to almost snap her neck with how fast she turned to him in shock.
"What?"
There was a look of concern and uncertainty, dare she say even fear in his face as he tried repeating the question.
"Are you disappointed?" He asked again this time more firmly.
"About what?" She asked not because she was confused but rather because she was unsure if he was indeed asking her that.
"About me being your soulmate." He continued. "I know it must be how you feel given the brief past we had. But that was in different situations, we can start anew as you humans put it, to know each other more before deciding hastily to not see each other again and then-"
"Wait! Wait wait wait WAIT!"
(Y/n) interrupted him quickly catching the king by surprise at her sudden outburst, her hands were up wanting him to halt any more words but her face was facing down, so he was not able to see her expression. He started panicking a little when her shoulders were shaking slightly, thinking the reality of their bond upset her, but his confusion grew when she started giggling before letting out a bark of laughter. Her sudden change of behavior was alarming to the king, dare he say he was offended.
"Can I ask why are you laughing at my confession?" He asked calmly yet the silent anger behind it was very clear.
It didn't intimidate (Y/n), but she forced herself to calm down for her soulmate seems to have a very short temper, which she noted to herself to work on with him. She stopped her laughter but her smile was still showing.
"Sorry, I'm not laughing at you, but at what you said." When gave a confused look she started explaining. "You came here confessing to me how you thought your soulmate could be either the warrior queen of Wakanda who also happens to be the new Black Panther or some woman with no title nor magic power of some kind and you ask me if I was disappointed with having the king of an underwater city, who is worshiped as a god, for a soulmate."
He seems to understand her view on the matter, but he still shook his head as if disappointed. He reached forward slowly for her hand as if expecting her to pull away but when she didn't he was confident enough to grasp her hand. His rough fingers were tracing the lines in the palm of her hand.
"You are… a woman, a human woman who doesn't have the power of the panther nor that of a god." He stated making her narrow her eyes at him.
"Buuut?" (Y/n) asked calmly yet that was this small hint of irritation, which made him chuckle. Seeing his smile made her show a smile of her own.
"But...You still walked this earth as one."
"As one you mean?" she trailed off confused.
"As a creature who pushes beyond the limitation they were given." He continued before looking up at her, his eyes holding softness towards her. "The panther told me of your past, or at least what she knows of it."
If he felt her hand tense in his hold he said nothing and just continued to rub the palm of her hand with his thump, it helped soothe her nerves but she still felt uneasy about what he had to say next.
"I don't know what you exactly did, but I know enough to tell from our short time together… that you didn't set back and watched as the world passed by around you. Learning everything the world has to give and returning it by helping those around you. You had a great part in building this world, even when they don't deserve it."
(Y/n) didn't know whether to roll her eyes or laugh at his last statement. They have to work on that attitude of his if they are going to act on what is happening between them.
"I understand how you feel." She finally said, getting the king's full attention. "But I decide who deserves me or my labors, whether they would misuse it or not I will be the judge of that and will take responsibility for it."
Namor said nothing and just nodded and looked away toward the crashing waves whether he respected her ideas or not he didn't show it. for a while, neither of them said anything, both of them collecting their thoughts on what to say next, and the sea king seems to beat her to it.
"What do you want to do?" He asked giving her a side glance of curiosity before looking back to the sea. His question was simple yet the real meaning behind it was real. Do you want to have anything to do with me?
"First, I want to know you more." She answered in all honesty. "I don't want to rush anything between us only to be hurt later on."
"We are soulmates." He said in an almost hurried manner probably from the fear of rejection, she gave him a reassuring smile.
"I know, I just wish to understand why did fate bind 2 different souls from 2 different worlds together."
(Y/n) explained genuinely while extending her hand to his face she stopped inches away from his face, silently asking for permission, which he gave by resting his cheek in the palm of her hand and closing his eyes as if relishing in the feeling of her hand caressing his face. She brought her other hand up to hold the other side of his face and stroked his checks while her other fingers were gently scratching his beard. She can tell Namor was enjoying her attention towards him but she had to break the moment by pulling away and causing a frown and confused look to show on his face.
"Second…" She said, reminding him of the unfinished conversation. "I need to contact some… special people I know."
"Do you mean the panther?" He asked, thinking she needed to tell her of their decision.
"Well, I will have to speak to her too, but no. I need to talk to some people who might help with our…. situation."
"Situation?" He repeated confused. (Y/n) bit her lip finding it hard to explain.
"You age very slowly… I don't." She said gently, his eyes widened slightly as if he had just realized it himself, she didn't like the sadness that started showing on his face so she explained. "I will just ask them if they have a way to extend my life."
He just nodded and gave a small smile, but the sadness was still clear in his eyes. (Y/n) knows the pain of watching the people you love grow old and disappear with time and not being able to do anything about it, but from what Shuri told her, Namor experienced this since his eyes opened to the world around him. Like her, he probably also hoped that his soulmate would show up soon to escape the loneliness. But she turned out to be a mortal, and with the time-freezing spell being lifted after their meeting, she will age in human speed while he will return to watching silently as the world kept moving fast around him, seeing people come and go into their world… including herself…
"Hey…" (Y/n) called catching the king's attention, he was met with her attempt at a comforting smile, which eased some of the grief he was feeling. "Those people live far away from any body of water but maybe I can contact one of them to come here, or maybe you can join me? You Can see some of the world and maybe even meet new people? I can understand if you don't want to, but if you did then I promise you there will be a lot of traveling to strange places. Fair warning seas king your soulmate here loves to travel a lot."
She teased him at that last part still smiling. (Y/n) she was asking him too much, not that she expected him to come with her considering not only his responsibility to his people but also his hatred for humanity, but she still wanted him to know that he is always welcome to be with her whenever he wishes to. Namor looked her in the eyes, his piercing dark eyes that 2 years ago looked at her with such loathing, now held nothing but softness towards her.
"Anywhere with you is everywhere I want to be."
Those words were spoken with such sincerity before he leaned forward and placed a kiss on top of her forehead, leaving her shocked as she stared at him with wide eyes, but the shock melted off her face and was replaced with a playful grin as she hit his shoulder.
"Don't get all sentimental on me, I thought you were a relentless sea king, not a softy lover."
"I am your lover now?" Namor asked as he scooted closer to her.
"You focused on that and not the relentless part?" (Y/n) questioned back with a raised brow.
"If it means I'm yours in the end, then yes." He had such a happy grin on his face that made her blush with how handsome he looked.
"You are so arrogant." She stated with a small chuckle as she tried to hide her face.
"But I'm yours." He replied confidently as he tried to make her look at him again.
"You're hot-tempered."
"I prefer fiery."
"God, you're obnoxious."
"Still yours."
(Y/n) was trying to push him away with every word she threw at him while fighting back laughter, but Namor kept leaning forward to her, enjoying this little game between them and wanting to enjoy her expression longer.
"Don't tell me you're going to be this clingy all the time?"
"More like affectionate and protective."
"Yeah, I have seen you being "protective" before, I know what that really means."
"Good, that means I don't have to hide it."
"what? Wait-"
(Y/n) let out a small screech as the Talokan king throw himself over her, just to lock his arms around her so she cannot escape his hold. She struggled and even hit his arms playfully, ordering him to let her go, but he wouldn't budge and just buried his face in the top of her head and closed his eyes, having a look of pure satisfaction. Seeing that, caused (Y/n) to show a smile of her own and decided to just give up the playful struggle, closed her eyes, and just relished the feeling of finally being complete.
Summary: Between Wakanda and Talokan, you transform memories into provocation: photos sent in secret, calculated angles, memories that burn in the distance. Each image breaks K’uk’ulkan’s control, who feels the power—and the desire—escaping like an untamed tide. A queen, a silent game, and a husband on the verge of losing control.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, slight degradation, unprotected sex (do that wrap this thing), aftercare, curse words, breeding kink.
A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.
Work count: 6k
🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊
It wasn't in her nature to be so headstrong—nor so mischievous, daring, or delightfully brazen. That change began almost imperceptibly, during her monthly visit to her homeland: Wakanda . Seeing her family again, the familiar faces, the memories that never ceased to throb, always filled her heart with an ancient warmth. Even though she loved Talokan , loved the weight and honor of being queen, and loved her husband even more, her roots insisted on bowing back home.
With great reluctance, K'uk'ulkan had granted those visits: once a month, for a whole week. Enough for you to exist between two worlds—without belonging completely to just one of them.
Your time in Wakanda was always fruitful. Laughter filled the corridors, lingering embraces took place, and only the necessary diplomatic meetings were held. The marriage had sealed the peace between the nations; though still fragile, it grew stronger year after year. And you, firmly at the center of this delicate balance, remained as queen—always diplomatic, always a bridge between two kingdoms.
It was at that first dinner that his older brother handed him what would later prove to be his sweetest downfall.
A Polaroid. Old, scratched by time.
At first, you almost laughed. The temptation to mock was strong—after all, you had easily become accustomed to the silent luxury your husband offered you. Your brother, however, simply shrugged. He said it still worked. And, with a nostalgic smile, he recalled how much you loved photographing everything: people, landscapes, mundane moments that seemed eternal to your eyes. He even joked about the iPhones you hid in your teens—small acts of rebellion against traditions that, at the time, seemed too big to you.
The night wore on slowly, and dinner began to dissolve into quieter conversations and peaceful farewells. You walked through the hall with gentle smiles, touching hands, receiving goodnight wishes and affectionate words. Wakanda had always known how to welcome you, even now, divided between worlds.
"Rest, my queen," some said.
"Until tomorrow," others replied.
You bid farewell to everyone with the elegance you had learned early on, but there was relief in your shoulders when you finally turned towards the quieter corridors.
Two talokanil guards were already waiting, steadfast and attentive. It was a demand of her husband—non-negotiable. She had accepted with a mixture of resignation and affection; she knew it wasn't distrust, but zeal. They walked a few steps behind, silent as disciplined shadows.
Namora was walking beside him.
She still held the Polaroid camera in her hands, gazing at it distractedly as they walked. Every now and then, she turned the device around, as if trying to understand that ancient artifact on the surface.
"Your brother has curious tastes," she commented, with a slight smile.
"He always had it," you replied, chuckling softly.
Upon reaching the room, the guards remained outside, assuming their positions naturally. The door closed behind you with a soft sound, muffling out the outside world.
You entered first, letting out an almost imperceptible sigh, and walked to the dresser near the window. Without much ceremony, you removed your jewelry and adornments, let down your hair, and took off your heavy ceremonial dress. You put on a thin, pearly-toned linen and silk nightgown that reached your thighs; it was light, short, and comfortable.
The room remained enveloped in that soft, almost golden light, which made the shadows dance on the walls adorned with ancestral symbols. The silence was comfortable, broken only by the distant sound of the city falling asleep. Soft fabrics were piled on the bed, light perfumes still lingered in the air—and you felt, there, a rare sense of rest.
The Polaroid camera now rested between you, as if it had gained weight.
You watched Namora handle it carefully, his firm fingers contrasting with the almost youthful curiosity in his eyes.
“At first,” you said suddenly, breaking the silence, “I thought you would never like me.”
Namora looked up, surprised. "Because she's from the surface?"
You nodded, chuckling softly. “For everything. I was the foreigner. The wife. The bridge.”
She took a deep breath, setting the camera down on the table. “I thought it would be difficult too.”
She smiled slightly. “You represented change. And change is always scary.”
You leaned back, supporting yourself on the pillows. "And now look at us."
Namora laughed, a short, genuine laugh. "Now we're a problem together."
The two laughed, conspiratorially.
The friendship between you two didn't begin easily. In the beginning, there was too much formality, too much distance. You, a surface dweller, surrounded by protocols and watchful eyes; she, a general of Talokan , shaped by discipline and absolute loyalty to her people. But, little by little, small conversations replaced silences. Laughter arose where before there had only been restrained respect. Until trust settled in—firm, unexpected, and beautiful.
“You never treated me like I was fragile,” you said, your voice low. “That… meant a lot.”
Namora tilted his head. "Because you never went."
She picked up the Polaroid again, twirling it between her fingers. “And now… you underestimate how much he would miss this.”
She pointed at you. “You.”
You snorted, laughing. "You talk as if you know him better than I do."
“I know enough,” Namora replied calmly. “Even though he’s a god-king, he’s still a man.”
His eyes gleamed at the analogy. “And men… follow simple instincts. The compass always points to what they love. The spear always seeks the sweetest cocoa.”
You put your hand to your chest, feigning outrage. "You're terribly bold."
"I'm honest," she retorted, smiling.
She stood up and positioned herself in front of him. "Stay there. The light is good."
"Date someone, you're having too much fun with this."
“I am,” she admitted without guilt. “And so are you.”
Clack .
You watched the photo slowly emerge. You laughed as you recognized yourself there—relaxed, carefree, different from the formal queen the world knew.
“He would love it,” Namora said with conviction. “Not as a leader. As a husband.”
You bit your lip, thoughtfully. "What if he thinks it's... silly?"
Namora sat down beside him again. “He’d find it intimate. Genuine.”
He paused and added, with an almost childlike smile, “And perhaps maddening.”
You laughed loudly. "You want to cause chaos."
“A controlled chaos,” she corrected. “One or two, maybe three photos a day. A small gesture. A great longing.”
You sighed, feeling your heart race. "And you promise to help me?"
“I promise,” Namora said firmly. “I deliver. I encourage. I watch the damage.”
You laughed together, leaning shoulders.
"That's crazy," you repeated, but now smiling.
"It's trust," she replied.
And in that room warmed by friendship, loyalty, and easy laughter, you realized:
what began as distrust between different worlds had transformed into something rare—an alliance between strong women, free to laugh, conspire, and care for one another. And perhaps, just perhaps, provoking a god-king was also part of it.
(....)
The great hall of Talokan seemed alive under the light filtered by the waters that fell in slow veils over the pillars of living stone. Currents of bioluminescence intertwined in the columns, snaking like liquid fire. Each breath of the ocean reverberated off the walls, as if the whole world were aware of its presence.
K'uk'ulkan stood erect, hands clasped behind his back, eyes fixed on the maps carved in stone. Advisors spoke, presenting reports, discussing borders, resources, signals from the surface. He listened to every word, every pause, every whisper of hesitation. Nothing went unnoticed. Nothing could escape his attention. Each decision carried the weight of generations, each choice was measured as if shaping the future of humanity and the ocean simultaneously.
Still… nothing truly mattered while you were away.
The mere thought of you ripped a tightness from his chest, a silent tension that no battle could dispel. He hated sending his queen away. He hated the distance that not even his spear or his power could bridge. Wakanda might be necessary, diplomacy essential—but the void her absence left burned within him like liquid fire. Each step he took in another world was a wound he endured with discipline … but with pain.
When the hall finally emptied, K'uk'ulkan remained alone. The sound of the bioluminescent currents seemed to whisper his name, reminding him that, even surrounded by power, he was vulnerable to you. He walked to the unfinished mural at the back of the hall, his fingers crossed behind his back. Each line of stone, each carved curve, carried patience, care, and devotion—a silent work made for her, so that she would know, even in her absence, that he revered her absolutely.
Then the water changed.
A talokanil soldier approached, his steps measured and precise, reverence in every movement. In his hands, a simple envelope, carefully sealed.
“ K'uhul “Ajaw ,” said the soldier.
“It was handed over by General Namora. It belongs to the Queen.”
K'uk'ulkan stopped. She was still somewhere else. Not even a full day had passed since she left. And yet… you had thought of him.
The idea ignited in his chest.
Something deep, dangerous, and intense stirred within him—a heat that not even the ocean could extinguish. He reached out and carefully took the envelope, as if touching a living flame.
" Yum" “Bo'otik ,” he murmured. “Thank you.
“ Ma ' a k'áat chi'.” I don't need anything else.
The soldier bowed:
“In wojel , Ajaw .” I understand.
Alone, K'uk'ulkan retreated to the side chamber. There the water was calmer, the light softer, and the silence seemed to envelop him like a blanket. No map, no decision, no report could compete with what was to come.
He broke the seal.
Three photographs.
The world seemed to shrink in size.
In the first photo, you were seated, your pearly pajamas reflecting the water's light in soft, iridescent tones. There were no jewels, no crown, no sign of ceremony. Yet, she was more of a queen there than in any ballroom. Relaxed. Confident. Whole. Personal. Just for him.
On Monday, a sideways smile. Intimate, familiar, devastating. The kind of smile that appeared when she allowed herself to exist without the world, without obligation—just being herself.
In the third, the gaze. Fixed. Direct. Defiant. As if she were crossing oceans just to reach him. Every detail reminded him that she belonged to him, that his compass would always point to him, and that his spear would always seek the sweetest cocoa—the taste of his queen, whom he loved more than any throne or sea.
K'uk'ulkan felt his breath quicken. Each photo ignited something that wasn't just desire, but reverence. His masculinity, his strength, his very essence as a god-king was suddenly deadly in your presence. A single breath from you sent him madness, consumed by the same silent fire that accompanied you.
He traced the edges of the photos with his fingers, almost trembling, reverent. It wasn't just physical beauty. It was presence. It was soul. It was the certainty that, even from afar, she held him, ignited him, consumed him.
You belonged to him.
Not in empty possession, but in total devotion.
K'uk'ulkan 's spear always sought her sweetness, and never missed. His body and heart were aligned with hers. He knew that, however much he ruled seas, battles, and destinies, his queen was his universe, and every gesture of hers pierced him as if it were unique.
He pressed the envelope against his chest, letting the heat invade his entire body, igniting everything that was reason, discipline, and duty. The silent, intense, almost obsessive passion consumed him. Every line, every shadow, every gesture captured in the photos ignited his heart in a way impossible to contain.
The king would return to his duties, to his decisions, to the ocean under his command. But deep in his heart, beneath the calm that everyone saw, burned something alive, tireless, insatiable:
His queen was far away. But she had never been so present within him.
Each of her breaths, even from a distance, was like a flame that burned his reason, his strength, and his very heart. Every gesture of hers bewitched him, every smile ignited his obsession, every glance made him bow before her as if he were a surrendered man.
You were beauty, strength, sweetness, fire. You were his. And he knew that no distance could ever erase that.
The following day was consumed by the obligations of a leader: endless meetings, decisions about borders, resources, and treaties. The advisors talked incessantly, but K'uk'ulkan barely listened. His mind was filled with another kind of anticipation, a silent fire burning within: the promise of another envelope, another fragment of his queen.
When the messenger finally approached, he extended his hands almost instinctively. The god-king's heart raced with anticipation. Each delivery from the queen was like receiving a piece of his own soul.
He opened the envelope.
And he immediately realized that he had made a "mistake".
The images weren't like the first ones. They weren't delicate, nor gentle. They were bold, erotic. Each pose, each gesture, each smile was a silent declaration: you knew the power you wielded over him, you knew the effect you had on his heart, his body, and his mind.
In the first photo, you were lying down, relaxed, elegant, and completely naked. A playful smile lit up your face, and the pose was effortlessly provocative—pure intimacy and mastery over your own image. He felt the heat rise from his chest to his erection just from contemplating you, your strength and beauty.
The second image showed her under the moonlight, in a lake. The reflection of the water caressed her lines with a pearly sheen. He could see her graceful, elegant, almost ethereal silhouette. The way the light touched her skin reminded him that she was a queen and a goddess in herself, and that no throne or mural could contain her essence.
The third photo was even more intense, provocative, brimming with personality. The queen was kneeling, confident, displaying control and power over her own body and presence. Her gaze seemed to pierce the paper, penetrate his mind, challenge his discipline, and seduce his heart. He felt his stomach churn, an almost physical tension. This was the queen he loved: audacious, self-possessed, irresistible, capable of setting his heart ablaze with her mere presence.
K'uk'ulkan pressed the photos between his fingers, taking a deep breath. Each image awakened in him obsession and veneration, desire and devotion. You were beauty, power, and sensuality condensed into human forms—and he didn't need to touch to feel dominated, surrendered, completely consumed. Every gesture of hers, every look, every smile was a reminder that he ruled not only seas and peoples, but also his own heart, given entirely to you.
The next day arrived, and with it, more photographs. This time he opened the envelope alone, and upon seeing that sin in the flesh, he almost came in his pants like a teenager. In the first photograph, you were facing away, leaning over the parapet while contemplating the sunset, and your ass, your beautiful, firm ass, was sticking out.
The second one was even bolder; you were still naked, but looking directly at the camera as you posed beautifully. Your nipples were hard and stiff, ready to be sucked, and your pussy, oh your beautiful, juicy pussy, was right there in plain sight, just for him. K'uk'ulkan licked his lips, eager to suck your breasts, lick your firm abdomen, and devour your beautiful pussy until only a wet, panting mess remained.
The third photo, by Chaac , the third photo, made him let out a groan that was too loud for his liking and his cock ache from being so hard. You were sitting on the windowsill, your hands firmly gripping the edges, your face turned to the sky and your legs spread as if you were waiting, waiting for him.
"Naughty girl." He cursed as he pulled his penis out and stroked it.
Seeing that beautiful pussy with its wet and glistening labia majora and minora, its swollen clitoris just waiting to be filled with your cock. K'uk'ulkan held the base of his penis with his right hand and with his left he held the last photo firmly in his hand, he groaned and writhed, while his hand moved up and down stimulating himself just for you. He moaned softly as the liquid filled impressively quickly, hard and throbbing as he continued rubbing.
" Shit ." The orgasm of K'uk'ulkan takes him by surprise. His legs spread shamelessly as his cock awkwardly spurts onto the hand that's wrapped around his body, lost in the sad illusion that it's his pussy holding him so tightly. He milks it until the last drop. He curses inwardly, but his mind is so confused that he truly cares.
Another day, and three more photographs. The young soldier seemed radiant with the position of official messenger to the queen—something that didn't exist until three days ago, but thanks to you and the effort of letting him indulge in his own lust, he became generous and rewarded the young man.
K'uk'ulkan grabbed the envelope like someone picking up a bomb about to explode, and in a way it was. He still kept the last three photographs and had used them quite frequently in the last few hours. He dismissed the young man with just a wave of his hand, and without delay, opened the envelope only to roll his eyes and sigh at the sight.
That one had been even worse. You . Wearing only one of your cloaks, carefully wrapped around your slender body. The second one, you posed beautifully in front of the mirror with your stiff nipples pointing at the reflection. The third one, by the gods, you. Completely naked. Lying on your stomach with your hips raised, giving him a privileged view of your open pussy waiting for him. His cock throbbed just remembering the heat that your pussy emanated around him.
He had broken down, he couldn't take it anymore. He was... K'uk'ulkan , and he wouldn't be deterred by mere distance and a few ill-mannered photos. He was a patient and refined man, but everything has a limit, and you had crossed all the limits.
" Attuma !" he shouted to one of his most loyal soldiers.
It wasn't long before the great blue beast appeared. K'uk'ulkan didn't turn around, he couldn't; his erection ached, crying out for release.
"Yes," said the soldier, awaiting orders.
"Go to Wakanda and bring the queen back. Now!"
(...)
You hurried out of the water, ignoring the distressed calls of Namora and the other servants, who warned you about the slippery ground and the excessive weight of your soaked dress. There was no time for caution—you needed to see your husband immediately.
The shock still reverberated in her chest from the moment Attuma had appeared in Wakanda , breathless, his eyes filled with urgency, demanding her presence in Talokan without delay. She had questioned him, but he had simply said that they were orders from K'uk'ulkan . Nothing more.
Her restless mind began to weave dark possibilities. Her husband had always respected her time in Wakanda ; he had never summoned her in such haste and desperation. No further explanation was needed. You simply followed the great blue warrior to Talokan , without even having time to say goodbye to your family or organize your belongings. Your entourage followed close behind, trying to keep up with your hurried pace.
"Stay calm," Namora pleaded, following her closely. "You could get hurt."
"Something happened, Namora." Her voice came out firm, though her heart was in turmoil. "My husband has never seemed so desperate."
You arrived at the cabin and paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, as if you needed to gather strength before crossing that invisible door. Then you turned to face her.
"Go. Leave me alone with him."
"My queen..." Namora began, hesitantly.
You stared at her.
"Something serious and private happened. He didn't even want to share it with Attuma ." You sighed again. "Go, Namora. Dismiss everyone. I'll call if I need anything."
Namora simply nodded in agreement. If you hadn't been so consumed by despair, you would have noticed the malicious smile hidden beneath the breathing mask she was wearing.
As soon as you stepped through the door, strong hands grabbed your waist and kissed you. It took you a fraction of a second to realize who it was—your husband. He devoured your mouth, taking your breath away, forcing his tongue inside, and you awkwardly reciprocated. He pulled away, and you breathed a sigh of relief.
"My beautiful wife," he murmured, pressing her waist tightly. "I think we have something to discuss."
You tilted your head innocently.
"What happened?"
He stepped back, resting his hands on the edge of the table, circling you. His gaze slid over your body, the curve of your neck, the fullness of your breasts, the slope of your waist. The dress, though wet and heavy, gave him a privileged view of your silhouette.
He turned you around abruptly, you let out a little gasp of surprise, he moved your head until your gaze was down at the table. At the photos you had sent him.
You swallowed hard.
"How audacious," he murmured in her ear. "A beautiful and scandalous display, indeed."
He slid his hand over her waist, pressing her buttocks even harder against his erection.
"Feel it, my beautiful wife. Feel what you do to me."
And then he turned you around again, leaned in, and captured your lips with his.
A moan escaped her throat as he pressed his tongue against her lips, the kiss hot and passionate. His free hand slid down the curve of her waist, gripping her thigh and wrapping it around her hip.
"You were very naughty, my love. Teasing me for days right under my nose," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her jaw, and then another, slowly sliding his lips down the back of her throat.
"Do you know how many times I've gotten excited thinking about your vagina, or those sweet, tempting lips around my cock?" He bit the sensitive spot where your neck met his shoulder and you moaned.
His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the table, spreading your legs and settling between them.
"And to involve a young messenger? That's cruel. What did I do to deserve such a vengeful and cruel lover?"
You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. "Are you saying you didn't like it?"
His fingers danced over your cleavage and, without delay, he ripped the dress. He tore the wet fabric off like a sheet of paper, leaving you in only your sheer panties. Your breasts sprang out with the action and he wasted no time; he held the soft flesh in his hands, massaging, kneading, squeezing until you gasped.
He hovers over chest, his breath sliding across her warm skin until he leans in to kiss her soft flesh. He cupped one of her breasts in his hand, gazing at her face as his thumb brushed her nipple. She gasped sharply, her mouth opening and her hips closing.
Moans escaped his mouth and their hips rubed together eagerly, his hard cock rubbing against wet center.
"Don't stop." You moan. "Please don't stop."
He alternates between breasts, using his hand to tug and twist your neglected nipple. You feel your stomach tighten and your breath quicken. His tongue swirls around your nipple before letting his teeth gently graze the turgid tip, biting softly. He is immediately rewarded with a sweet sigh.
He steps back momentarily, looks at you with glistening lips, then returns to your breasts.
"I'm going to devour you, wife," he purred, leaning in and trapping a firm nipple between his teeth. You whimpered, arching your back. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your nails scratching his scalp as he kissed, licked, and nibbled at the curves of your body.
" K'uk'ulkan ," you moaned softly as he knelt, parting your thighs and licking a warm, wet strip against the fabric of your panties.
He pressed his thumb against the moisture that was already seeping out, then intertwined his fingers at waist, peeling the delicate lace down thighs, leaving it tangled at one ankle.
"Tão linda", suspirou ele, beijando a parte interna de suas coxas, seus lábios subindo cada vez mais.
You gasped, your head falling back as his mouth found your pussy, his tongue sliding between your slits, a low moan vibrating against you.
Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him close as he feasted on you. You moaned, writhing as his tongue swirled around your clitoris. Your legs trembled, threatening to give way, but his firm hands held you tight. He groaned against you, the vibrations sending another pulse of pleasure through your body. He inserted two fingers inside you, moving slowly and deliberately, as if he had all the time in the world to undo you. His tongue moved, teased, circled, lifting you only to pull you back just before you could give up the edge.
His fingers curved just right, and his mouth returned to her clitoris, sucking hard enough to make stars explode behind her eyes. The spiral in her belly tightened, so tight she thought it might break.
That was all it took. Your body arched as pleasure washed over you, a muffled moan escaping your throat as the orgasm consumed you. He held you throughout, absorbing every shiver, every sigh, until you trembled in his arms.
Only then did he pull away, his dark, hungry eyes as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He placed a lingering kiss inside her thigh before rising to his full height, his body hovering above hers.
"You're so sweet, my love," he whispered as he showered kisses on her thigh. "Completely broken. And yet, we're not even close to being over."
You barely had time to catch your breath before he lifted you into his arms, his legs instinctively wrapping around your waist. He carried you effortlessly toward the padded reed bed in the corner of the hut, laying you on the bed and turning you over, face down with your bottom in the air. The position of a prostitute, and you couldn't be happier.
He stood at the edge of the reed, removing his gold-plated vibranium ornaments with slow, deliberate precision. "Tell me," he said, letting the large necklace slip from his shoulders. "Was all this worth it?" His eyes gleamed as he untied the ties that fastened his loincloth. "Because now, I'm going to make sure you remember exactly why you shouldn't mess with me."
You bit your lip, unable to contain the moan that escaped your lips as his palm slid across your buttocks, massaging and squeezing. He pressed his hips against yours, letting you feel the length of his hard cock through his pants.
You pushed yourself against him, rubbing against the bulge, your body aching with anticipation. You whimpered, burying your face in the sheets. You felt the heat spreading through your body, desperate and needy. And then the firm, burning heat of his cock as it settled between your thighs, the thick head teasing your vagina, covering itself in your arousal. He groaned at the wetness clinging to him, the way your body pulsed with need.
"Please," you whimpered, wiggling your hips.
He made a tsk sound , a dark laugh vibrating in his chest. You screamed when he finally entered you, his cock stretching you impossibly. Your toes curled, the delicious burning sensation of being overfilled all at once. He let out a low groan as he plunged in, his cock buried in your tight, wet heat. He gripped your ass, his fingertips digging into your skin, and began to thrust slowly.
He quickened the pace, his hips slamming against hers, the wet smudge of skin against skin echoing through the room.
"That's my good girl," he praised, tightening his grip, his hips quickening, fucking you harder.
You screamed, his cock hitting you deep inside, a series of moans escaping your lips. He let go of your hair and leaned over, supporting himself with one hand, the other trying to squeeze your ass and give you another hard slap.
You came, a cry of pleasure escaping your throat as you climaxed, the fire inside you roaring through your veins.
"That's it," he groaned, his hips slamming against yours, pushing you even further into the mattress. You shuddered, pleasure overwhelming you as the world melted away.
He shifts, pushing himself deeper inside, and with a brutal thrust he reaches that special spot inside you. Trembling and crying, you finally come again all over his body and the sheets, your orgasm hitting you so intensely that your vision blurs.
"Aqui está você. Me fazendo de bobo como a boa puta que você é." Seus dedos cruéis continuam a apertar seus quadris, esmagando sua carne. Ele te fode com força, com movimentos desajeitados e brutos, enquanto busca seu próprio prazer.
It's only a matter of seconds before he comes inside you, driven to the edge by the thought of finally filling you with his cum. His cock throbs inside you, and then the heat fills you as you sigh. You've never felt so full.
Your legs are now sore, your hips are sore, and your poor, completely wrecked pussy is the kind of pain that deliciously penetrates the skin all the way to the core, but you can't suppress a moan when he takes his hands off your hips and his cock out of you. Your body collapses onto the sheets. You were a complete mess, just a shadow of what once seemed to be a queen.
“Look at you,” your husband murmured, you were still lying face down, barely able to look at him. “It seems your audacity is limited to scraps of paper.”
You sigh. And with great willpower, you propel your body to stand. You turn around, still seated on the reed, only to find him still naked. Your eyes briefly scan your husband's sculpted body; his well-defined chest, thick arms, and muscular thighs. His limp penis lay still glistening with arousal. With courage, or perhaps stupidity, you dare to say:
“My audacity was enough to drive my lord, my husband, crazy.” You crawl through the reeds to him, kneeling until you are face to face. “Remember that it was you who took me from Wakanda, desperate to fuck me.”
His hand slides down her neck until it finds her scalp, where he squeezes lightly and tilts her head.
"Don't mess with me, girl. I can be very cruel when I want to." He places a kiss on her neck. "Do I need to remind you how ruthless I am?"
You sigh as he places wet kisses on your sensitive skin. His lips burned like hot coals.
“Yes.” You plead. “I need you to remind me how ruthless you are. I have far more where those came from.”
He stops kissing you and stares intently at you.
"Where are they?" You feel the grip tighten and you smile, loving to tease him.
"You received them, husband. Periodically, as I had planned. I still had a few more days in Wakanda , but your longing made me leave there far too hastily."
"You need to give them to me," he says, or rather, orders.
"You will receive them, my love," you say. "When and where will be up to me to decide."
He lets out a cold laugh, knowing he was completely lost.
"What a cruel creature I have by my side. The gods are punishing me by placing something so seductive and daring beside me."
You approach him and kiss him.
"You love this."
He let out a low laugh, and then with a sudden movement you were lying on the reed again and he was on top of you. He held you down beneath him, his eyes burning with desire and lust, his erect penis already clamoring for attention.
"You, my taster," he growled, his lips capturing hers in an intense kiss, "will pay for every provocation."
You simply smile, letting the feeling show in your eyes, before giving him another passionate kiss. This time, the kiss is slower and longer, as if the world around you disappears. Your lips meet delicately and intensely at the same time, allowing you to fully taste his mouth, feel the warmth of the contact, and the silent complicity that forms between you. It's a kiss that speaks without words, full of affection, contained desire, and a tenderness that makes the heart beat faster. You pull away, only to flutter your eyelashes and smile shamelessly.
SUMMARY -> out of your own curiosity discovering the unique entrance of the underwater cave had you finding more than you expected while vacationing. the god is intrigued to say.
k’uk’ulkan/namor x fem! reader
masterlist (to be added)
GENRE -> nsfw/smut
WARNINGS -> bpwf spoilers, meet-cute scenario, a lil slowburn, namor is a lil’ bit cold at first & smut as usual (p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex; both!receiving & fingering)
WC -> 7,876
a/n: after watching wakanda forever had me bawling like so much. and so, okay, i know this isn’t my usual writing but i fell in love with the song con la brisa and namor cuz aquapapi. and i thought i’d write a long fic just for him. lIKE THE VISUALS OF THE SCENE IN TALOKAN AND THE SONG!?!?!?!? absolutely amazing and captivating and there’s namor. 😫 but anyways… enjoy my namor smut ig. and happy holidays everyone <3
TRANSLATIONS: YUCATEC MAYA -> máak lu'um - surface dweller/land person, ki'ichpanech - pretty girl, le paalo’ - child , je’el - yes, dejaremos ti' le destino decida - we will let fate decide, in na'atik - i understand, ba'ax úuch - what happened?, jach asab u jump'éel siibal - it is more than a gift, ka ma' in k'áat ka u detenga - and i don’t want it stop, in ts'íiboltikech - i want you, ma'alob - good, ko'ox - let us go, in yakunaj - my love, jats'uts - beautiful, t'aan - speak, táan jach mojado, wáaj tuláakal ti' teen? - it is so wet, all for me? mierda - shit, perfecto - perfect, jach jats'uts yáanal tin - so beautiful under me
likes, reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated !! <3
enjoy !!
it’s quiet.
only the sound of the waves and the sound of the cool breeze hitting your ears envelops your senses. your body is floating above the water, sun hitting your face, eyes closed and relaxed as you let yourself float amongst depths of the sea. the water is cool against your skin, the scent of salt hits your nostrils mixing in with the freshness of the air. heaven is all you can describe at such serene calmness the water offers you this day.
as beautiful the secluded beaches are here in yucatan. you knew better to be not trespassing here. and as stupid it was to swim near night falling, the rays of the sun had turned orange among the horizon of the beautiful ocean. you knew it was time to get back to your hotel you currently resided. but here you are, water still glistening your salty skin, shorts concealing your bottom and your top the bikini you wore still damp as ever. the sun was setting, the trees swayed as you headed back to the direction of where you came from. wary of a chill on your spine erupt as if you felt like you were not alone in the secluded beach.
but as always, fate seemed to spin you to get lost in the woods.
shit. you think to yourself, the unfamiliar path dawning over to you as you sighed to yourself, trees all over your view. you knew the area well enough for the past few days and now was the time you would get lost? unbelievable. you bit your lip, trusting your gut to go further, night already taking over the once pristine blue sky. better to walk and let faith guide you to a road than to stay amongst the wild animals and insects inside the forest. you could say you’ve done one of the stupidest tourist shit you vowed not to do.
the cicadas faintly started to get louder as the darkness took over the forest. you grabbed your phone, turning on the flashlight as the leaves scrunched underneath your feet. the bushes seemed to grow larger as you gently passed by them with your arm shoving them away. expecting the familiar highway to come in view.
but you stopped, the path had ended as you were face to face with a cave of some sort. your eyes sparkled in the dark, suddenly intrigued with this new location you found. a hidden gem in these parts. you cautiously stepped closer to it, feeling as if you’ve entered someone’s territory. you lick your lips, shutting the flashlight of your phone as moonlight filled the area perfectly.
“water?” you mumbled to yourself, bending down to see the small cave was filled with water. “of course it is, dumbass.” you rolled your eyes to yourself, letting your hand touch the cool water.
it rippled beneath your fingertips as you glided your hand to feel the temperature, the scent of sea salt again fill your senses, your curiosity getting the best of you. you noticed how the deep the pool of water was, noting it might be an entrance to a underwater cave of some sort, you guessed. but you needed to go back, remembering the hotel waiting for you.
you looked around once more, guessing that this has been around here for a long time. you smiled, proud to say you would dive in here if you got the chance and the gear to do it. you stood up, brushing yourself from the dirt that sticked to your knees. you turned back and headed to the bushes again, to find another path. for a moment, you adjusted the bag you were carrying, your phone in your hand suddenly slipped from your grasp, hitting the ground with a thud. you cursed yourself for your clumsiness, bending down to grab it. the water in the cave suddenly splashing catching your attention warily.
you froze, slowly standing up, clutching your phone tight as you watch a figure came from the dark depths of the cave. the water splashed around as your heart thump loudly. seeing as a manly figure came in your sight despite the darkness. warnings in your mind erupted, remembering what you had heard of recently.
the man from the sea. a ancient god.
you distinctly remembered the words of the locals and the village elders about a man walking along the shores, feet with wings they had said. their ‘god’ walking amongst them. you don’t know much, but you feared this legend and the god as so did the people here. anything was possible nowadays. but you remained silent, studying his figure as he emerged into the moonlight. stepping in to your view, golden jewelry adorned his neck, he wore only green shorts and other accessories from his wrist to his legs. his feet, however, caught your interest seeing wings adorn them. and ears flourished with a jade like square earrings. he brushes his wet hair back, chest rising as he breathes in the air, his dark eyes finally gazed to yours.
oh, fuck.
you clutched your bag tight against your body, a shiver ran down your spine as his gaze pierced through you. you’ve trespassed. your mind shouts, your heart thumping louder.
“i’m sorry for i-intruding.” you speak up, careful for your tone to be calm and respectful. gears in your mind clicking, his face yet did not react whatsoever other than he steps forward, making you step back cautiously. he seems to notice it, sensing your own fear as he minds himself, creating a presence you knew not to anger. as stoic his expression was, his eyes seem to tell otherwise.
dangerous.
“you’re not from here.” he speaks, breaking your daze when you stare at his face. cold yet curious his tone was. knowingly now you think he’s attractive the more you study him. thoughts then circling how he just came from an underwater cave and ankles with wings on them.
“i’m not…” you nodded, gulping. “i got lost and stumbled here. n-no other intention.” you added, sensing him that he expected another answer.
“no?” he questions, stepping forward again, closer to you, making you freeze on the spot. you breathed out shakily, gazing his eyes that hold a predatory look. he towered over you, intimidating you further.
“no…” you softly said, the atmosphere almost changing, not once did you leave his gaze. a fire in the man’s gaze fueling him elsewhere.
the god stared down at this surface dweller, he hummed, trusting your answer, yet still skeptical. you were not like the other surface dwellers that he encountered coming into the entrance of the cave. you looked innocent enough, a foreigner of the area, a tourist you are. he shifts his gaze to your eyes and to your lips that softly spoke those words of reassurance. he notices your hands tremble, the cold of the night he presumed was getting to you or the fear of him. he’ll let you go, he thinks, merciful enough. the disturbance of the water merely caught his attention, he swam to it, ensuring that his nation would not be discovered.
“who are you?” you asked, astonished now for a man who’s ears you noticed are pointed. the fear slowly washing away. namor was intrigued to say, a curious thing you are.
“i have many names.” he spoke quietly, accent sharpening his words, a wonderful one you deemed as you listened to him. “my people call me k’uk’ulkan.” he gauges your face, seeing it full of wonder.
“but my enemies call me namor.” he finishes darkly, a threat. a warning set in stone. many would have run from him by now but you intrigued him further.
“namor.” you tested the name on your lips. the god felt himself shift in his place, seeing as you turn from his gaze, something stirring inside him after you uttered his name so softly.
“and you are?” he now asks, formalities thrown as you met his gaze again.
“y/n.” you uttered your name as the chill of the night shivered you so. he also tests your name in his tongue, accent enveloping each syllable smoothly with a crisp ending.
“roaming around the outskirts of the village is dangerous, máak lu'um. what has brought you here?” he speaks further, a word so unfamiliar to you. not spanish or what, which fuels your desire to learn him now.
“just took a swim by the beach.” you answered with a shrug. “it’s beautiful out the atlantic ocean.” you added as he hums, nodding.
“you’re not from here as well, are you?” you suddenly ask. he doesn’t look like the locals in the area. his outfit is as different from modern clothing, which in his case is very minimal. he cocks his head to the side as you looked back to the underwater cave. he is taken aback at your forwardness but contemplates whether he should tell you but he only offers a simple answer to your curious mind.
“yes.”
“interesting.” you quipped, examining his peculiar jewelry then to his chest, which catches you off guard how well built he is. tan pecks glistening with water, a fluttery feeling in your stomach making you feel a little flustered for checking him out shamelessly. 
“you live there, i presume?” you ask, pointing to the cave. he seems to still, eyebrows tensing as you notice how defensive he is. “not that you need to answer…” you offered weakly, a little scared now.
“mhm.” he grunts, stepping pass you, not answering the question, leaving off a cold aura. he needed you away from here as soon as possible, remembering his intentions from the first place when you disturbed the waters of the entrance.
“come, it is getting late. let me escort you out, ki'ichpanech.“ pretty girl. he offers his arm out, muscle bulging out. you seem to be too trusting as you complied with the strange man with wings on his feet. not knowing how dangerous he can be, a man that has lived for more than a century, a god to his people and a king of a nation sealed from the whole world beneath the depths of the sea.
he is the feathered-serpent god.
“thank you.” you took his arm, walking beside him, arm resting with his making your heart thump. he was warm for a man who just swam in a deep underwater cavern. he smelled like the ocean itself, which was not that unpleasant, you stare at him for a time as you two walked along the woods. leaves scrunching both of your feet.
namor, on his behalf, didn’t expect he’d be talking with a surface dweller for this long nor offering to escort you out the forest. he despised all things that came from the surface world, a land that he swore to himself to hate to the bones. yet now, you who peaked his interest made his usual thinking sputter.
innocent, curious, soft, kind…all things he doesn’t expect. the feel of your skin to his fueled his desire further as he tried to suppress it. noting the way his cock twitch when your fingers brushed against his hot skin.
“are you not cold? it’s so cold out here.” you shivered, unintentionally pressing against him for warmth.
“it is…tolerable, ki'ichpanech.” he amusingly says, watching as your other arm hugged your waist for warmth. your bikini covered breasts pushing up by your arm making him swallow a lump as he looks ahead. intriguing.
“what does that mean?” you ask, glaring at him with a pout.
“ki'ichpanech?” the ancient language rolls on his tongue flawlessly.
“yes.” you looked back to him seeing as the familiar sounds of faint chatter filled your ears. the village must be close.
“a compliment, le paalo’.” he simply explains. “one for you to find out for yourself.” he smirks, making you sigh beside him.
only silence fills the void between you two, an unspoken comfort that had the man beside you wonders how calm you are. being escorted by a man who you just met. he wonders how your pretty little mind works
“you said you have many names.” you started. “what do you prefer to be called?”
“it is up to you what you wish to call me.”
“k’uk’ulkan then?” you uttered, wishing you didn’t butcher the pronunciation. “you said your people call you by that.”
“je’el.” he agrees, which you take it as a yes. a silence transpired again, but it doesn’t take long before your own curiosity gets the best of you. asking him questions now out of the blue, all subjects leading how he swam inside of a underwater cave without any gear and the most asked about his ankles with wings.
namor seemed to tolerate your mind, offering vague answers and none about questions where he resided or came from. he offers you to teach the mayan words he answers along the way, resulting you to ask him if he always knew how to speak english fluently. in return, he asks you as well. you gladly tell him about vacationing alone in mexico, saying that you needed some time away from the work you had back home. and that you just wanted a moment of peace to yourself here by the beaches. exploring, learning about the locals and their culture respectfully.
but in all fashion, it had to end.
which broke your heart slightly when the sound of the locals grew louder. lights from their village enveloping your view as you two arrive in a secluded area wherein the familiar dirt road is.
“you are a strange woman with curious questions.” he begins as you step out of the bushes, facing him with a slight frown.
“says the man who has wings on his feet.” you quip back playfully. he smirks at that, eyes alert as he looks back to see the locals. your heart thumps, wishing for him to come with you. but in his eyes you knew it wasn’t possible even if he didn’t necessarily say it out loud. you just knew.
“speak of this to no one, ki’ichpanech.” he utters, you nodded at this. the situation weird enough for you to obey.
“will i see you again?” you ask gently, hope in your tone. namor feels something stir inside him as he licks his lips, stepping forward as he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing it softly. soft delicate skin. he thinks, a fire set alight to the both of you as his piercing gaze never faltered as your chest rose at the sudden electric feeling.
the hand kiss was a gesture of his growing affection towards you which he fears may not stop. you should be cowering away from him, a man who’s hands are stained with blood for hundreds of years. he shouldn’t even be talking with a surface dweller at all and you shouldn’t see him again, but…
“dejaremos ti' le destino decida.” he only offers those unfamiliar words to you with sincerity. you drew your hand back, not asking anything further as he steps back into the forest, eyes still looking into yours. a series of laughter interrupts the two of you as you look away from for a moment seeing the villagers laughing amongst themselves. you look back to the bushes, only to find that he’s gone.
huh.
you only stood quiet, the scent of sea salt lingering, his warmth you realized you missed. the night grew colder as you think to yourself with a cheeky thought in mind.
you’ll meet him again.
•••
and you did.
countless of times now after a couple of days had passed. the next morning of that faithful night lead you to go back to the same spot you met him, toying with the water, disturbing it when he was already behind you at that time. in which namor wouldn’t say he has been keeping an eye on you whenever you visited the beach again. you were thrilled, greeting him with your smile. he seemed a bit reluctant meeting you again, telling you that you should not be talking with him. you countered back, asking why then he appears before you when he could’ve ignored her. he smiles at that, offering you a chuckle for the first time. his smile catching you off-guard.
“you intrigue me so, ki'ichpanech.” he would say as you two walk along the shores, talking, asking more about him. he tells stories you never had heard of, legends and so.
“you like it.” you’d tease with a grin. he doesn’t affirm but he does agree in the inside.
your growing friendship with the god only grew larger when the days passed and each day he reminded you to never speak about this strange relation you had with him. you only had weeks left before going back home. a month vacation in yucatán was slowly nearing it’s end and you feared you may not get to see your mysterious friend ever again. you had to cherish the weeks left in counting.
and the subtle attraction you were feeling was growing larger.
he showed you the vast hidden wonders the beach hid as he took you for a swim. the corals, the tide pools, even in the deepest parts of the sea. it was so fascinating to you to see him swim so freely, like it was just a normal thing for him. you had already known that he is not human from the first time you met him. further, he only describes himself as a mutant, the story of his mother and how the first of his people came to be. the talokanil.
“my mother mourned to return to the land wherein she once lived.” he speaks, the waves crashing, you two sitting beside each other on the soft white sands of the shore. watching the sunset over the horizon, a beautiful sight to always see. intimate it felt.
“she was human you had said?”
“je’el. she made me a promise to bury her in the soil of her homeland.” you watch carefully how his eyes catch a glimpse of longing. “but nothing could prepare me for what i found.”
a chill ran down your spine seeing his expression drop into the most chilling hatred you could ever seen from a man. the slavery, those spanish men, the corruption of colonialism that had fallen amongst the surface world. wars broke out, diseases everywhere, more and more tragedies you guessed he would have witnessed for living for 500 years. you were somewhat touch to know how he’s opened up to this, to you.
“there’s nothing that would change how us humans would still be.” you began, sympathizing with him and knowing his hatred for the surface world. “humans are greedy. power is their desire, their lust. the world up here is fucked up.” you chuckled airily, staring off to the ocean.
“you seem to harbor the same resentment to your own world, ki'ichpanech.” he says as you shrugged at it.
“the world is too corrupted nowadays.” you rolled your eyes. “work is work, you work then you die. money is in my head always back home. so yeah, i do hate it up here.”
“you desire to be elsewhere? is it why you are here with me?” he grins as you scoffed at him even though it was true as the blush evident on your face was enough evidence. he has been shamelessly kinda flirting with you over the past days—
…you like him, a lot. it was no surprise you had catch feelings for the man. you learned he is kind and somewhat warm underneath the defensive and cold exterior he had put up when you two first met. he longed for his nation to be free from the terrors of waiting for anyone who’d try to discover them.
“you were a nice surprise to me.” you smiled gently. “but yes, it’s a nice escape here out from the city. even though i hate it here, it quite beautiful to live in.”
“in na'atik.” he hums, intrigued to say how one surface dweller could speak so ill about their own home. his resentment towards the surface world was still growing in him. humans are greedy like you had said, but you, out of all the surface dwellers that had tried to come near him or his nation, you merely just stood before him that night. astonished at him, wonders in your colored irises that held a compassionate understanding for him. he feels his chest swell and throat constrict. that same mushy and fluttery feeling that arose to heat his cheeks and the tip of his ears. overwhelming yet so addicting to feel.
what were you doing with him?
namor only watches you as you stare off to the ocean. he wants to picture this moment in his mind, a mural he now wants to paint for you. a story for you, your curious questions about him and your smile that was like the most beautiful pearls of talokan. he doesn’t want to admit it, nor shall he want to think about it now. dangerous it can be, he only hopes that this would last quicker for the sake of both of your hearts. and for his purposely knowing all would might end in tragedy if he is to act on this.
but he is wrong.
•••
another set of days had passed and tomorrow, that you dreaded, you’ll be going back home. it seemed like time had passed by faster than you expected. you stand alone again by the beach, this time a mesh white scarf wrapped around your arms as you take in the sea breeze again, savoring the moment. namor had wanted to see you again as usual, you knew he was either walking along the shore or might emerge from the sea, waiting for you.
but now he was walking towards you, expecting your bright greeting yet he only found you staring at the horizon again.
“ki'ichpanech?” he starts, softly calling for you. the waves crashes again as your sundress swayed with wind. you met his gaze, snapping out of your thoughts as you composed yourself before the god.
“k’uk’ulkan.” you face him, a little surprised but you smiled at him still. namor watches your serene smile do not go up your eyes. he knows already, you could tell. he always could tell how you were feeling.
“ba'ax úuch?” he asks, enough for you to understand as he stands in-front of you, softening his gaze as you glanced back to the sea, sighing deeply.
“i’m leaving tomorrow.” you finally said, seeing as his expression still as those words he dreaded as well came from your mouth. it’s too soon, he had plans to—
“tomorrow?”
“in the morning.” you confirmed, your heart breaking seeing his stoic expression falter. “to be honest, i don’t want to go.”
“then don’t.” he says, every patience in his body wearing just for him to spew out anything for you to not leave. all his walls he build up for the first time for you already was gone, he accepted it that he wanted you by his side even if you don’t know fully of his true feelings. he had to at least say something before this could all end.
“i can’t.” you shakily said, an overwhelming feeling overcoming you. you didn’t want to leave this place, you didn’t want to leave him yet. “besides, whether i like it or not, i’ll be forced back home.”
you gripped the chiffon scarf, knuckles baring white as namor didn’t know what else to say. every signal in his mind told him many ways he could make you stay but he knows either way you’d be gone. and that this whole relationship you have with him is going to end even if it just had started.
“come with me.” he finally lets it out as he grabs your hand to his. “i wanted to show you something.”
“you have a gift for me?” you teased as his fingers interlocked with yours. he merely chuckles making your heart thump, alongside the feel of his calloused warm hand fits perfectly to yours. you know there’s this silent crave, a want between you two. you never acted this strange tension with him. you always thought he only tolerates you at how adamant you are seeing him, but now… you’re not sure.
“jach asab u jump'éel siibal.” he says, guiding you back to the forest, the familiar path to the underwater cave. “i want you to see a glimpse of my home.”
“k’uk’ulkan.” you scolded, brows knitting as you followed him, letting him guide you. “you had said that your nation is something to be kept away from the surface world. i am apart of that.”
“it is not necessarily talokan yet, ki'ichpanech.” he counters as you two step to see the familiar structure. he ushers you to stand by him in the pool of water but you stop,.
“i don’t want to risk this.” you argued, seeing as he contemplated at that. he was holding back something he’s been harboring, you sighed as you step back, hand letting go of his as he stands in the water. a feeling of deja vu erupted inside you. he looked absolutely the same the night you met him. just that his defensive posture were now soft and relaxed as he gently smiles at you.
“one last night, ki’ichpanech.” namor held his hand out again. “and we will forget all of this in the morning and continue on with our separate lives.”
“but that’s not all, is it?”
namor tenses, he doesn’t really know if a tinge of fear had finally come to him. you can see pass through him, every knit of his brow or clench on his jaw. and he can see you hesitate— you want this, he can tell. every grip of your mesh scarf, the furrow of your brows, the sadness and eagerness in your eyes. you awaited for an answer as he nods.
“come with me.” he steps closer, water splashing, moonlight dawning over you two. “you had said you hated to go back to your home then stay. stay with me.”
he gently brought your hand to his chest as he stared into your eyes. like a trance he is how serene you are underneath the moonlight. your face softening with realization that he’s asking you to live with him. to stay by him forever. you could feel the thump of his heart underneath his skin, he intimately pressed his forehead against yours, never leaving your sight. you didn’t know what to say but just let him continue.
“this does not happen so often. and i fear it will never stop. ka ma' in k'áat ka u detenga.” he whispers, lips brushing against yours, he is holding himself back not to rapture you here and now. sparks flew when you felt it, his other hand situated on your hip. a raw sensation you had now felt for him.
“what about my own life here?”
“i am not so cruel to not give you a choice, ki’ichpanech. but yes, i cannot risk you going back home for my nation if you were to choose to come with me.” you nodded at his words, understanding him. and now you gambled with the possibilities as namor waited patiently for your answer. your mind gambled with the possibilities, you’d leave everything behind.
“and if i chose to leave now?”
“then we will part ways and forget all of this.” he offers a small smile, concealing the pang in his chest.
“why me?” you quietly asked, the words he offered sinking in your mind.
“is it not obvious?” his nose brushed against the tip of yours, heat in his tone. “in ts'íiboltikech.”
a shuddery breath exhales through your lips. his warmth and his closeness should have been the answers but you could not imagine for a god— someone who’s deemed as a god to be wanting you. namor’s patience was wearing thin, if you chose to leave, he’ll gladly accept that, but he somehow hopes for the other one. your eyes shined, his heart thumped as your lips opened—
“in ts'íiboltikech.” you repeated his words as his irises darken, a grin forming as he gladly pulled you closer to him, the cool water splashing around the two of you. the cicadas quieting down, two hearts beating as one.
“ma'alob.” he whispers darkly, sending a shiver down your spine. those words of confirmation had him surging to capture your lips to his. he waited long enough, every night, every morning he thought of you. you were a plague in his mind, corrupting him to think of the most sinful things and the ones he yearned in his own thoughts.
and your lips were sweet, sweeter than the fruits he ever tasted in his life, and he wonders in the back of his mind if your cunt would taste sweeter. making his cock twitch at the thought.
you let out a tiny gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck, the chiffon scarf dropping to the ground. the built up tension between the two of you finally at it’s peak, sizzling down as he moved his lips slowly on yours. slow and passionate, wanting to savor it. your cheeks bloomed with heat when you felt the outline of his prick press against your stomach, hard and hot. catching you by surprised at how particularly needy he felt. but you were as well, absently rubbing your thighs against each other.
he pulls away, breathless making let out a tiny whine. “ko'ox.” he smirks, guiding you deeper in the water, your sundress getting wet but you didn’t care about that. only focused on the man who gently puts something on your face. you look at him questionably, he was holding up a mask of something.
“the dive is deep.” he explains, as he locks the mask in, ushering you gently with adoration in his eyes as you inhaled deeply, following his command.
“breathe, in yakunaj.”
•••
“amazing.” you uttered, staring up to the ceiling of the cave. glowworms were hanging by the stalactites. it emitted this soft blue hue while the sound of the waters of the cave joined in the beautiful scenery. your heart bloomed, you could almost forget about your own home by now. but a tinge of hesitance caused you to overthink this. was it right to leave everything behind? you questioned yourself, standing by the edge, close to the water.
how quick you are to throw everything away.
you bit your bottom lip, nervous you are, wondering if anyone back at the place you called home would question where you are in the following days— months even. you sighed to yourself, pushing it all away in the very back of your mind. you’d worry about that in a more appropriate time. but now here you are, feeling flushed remembering his lips, all thoughts away but just him.
“jats'uts.” his voice echoed, you jumped a bit in surprise as you turned to face him. the beads on your dress rattled, your cheeks glowed as namor went beside you. his eyes draped along your body, the traditional dress he provided for you after your sundress had been absolutely damped was an exquisite sight before him.
“beautiful.” he translated, dark eyes meeting yours. he steps closer, seeing your small shy smile. “the dress suits you so.” he grins.
“thank you for this.” you gestured to the beautiful dress, letting yourself be drawn in his beady orbs as you neared him, letting his hand slip to yours again.
“has this place always been your sanctuary?” you quietly asked as you two walked towards the hut he showed you a while ago that was filled with his murals. you were amazed to see how he had depicted his and his people lives on the wall by the stroke of his brush. the story of how the first talokanil came to be and so fort.
“yes. a place where i can be in solitude.” he nods and leads you inside, never leaving your side.
“and from here, talokan is just down below?” you looked around the room, stopping to admire the big mural on the wall.
“deep below, ki'ichpanech.” he responds, standing beside you, holding something in his hand. your eyes caught the glimpse of a beautiful ornament.
“this is beautiful.” you blurt out, looking to him for approval to touch it as he merely smiled.
“it was my mother’s.” he explains as you touched the beads gently, admiring how pretty it is.
“you said it was made for her before she turned talokanil?” namor nodded, liking the way you remembered his stories.
“as my first gift, i want you to have this.” he grasps your wrists making your heart burst. “a token for my affection.”
“you’ve given me enough. i feel like i should give you something in return.” you pouted as he ties the bracelet on your wrist, ignoring your furrowed look as he kisses you softly before you could protest more. you hummed between his lips, shutting up quickly as you eagerly reciprocated.
“it is not enough.” he says, squeezing the side of your waist. “you’ve already given something in return, in yakunaj. your presence here in my home is enough.” 
“but—“
his lips descended down to kiss your jaw, peppering down to your neck. inhaling your scent as he nips at your neck. pressing you harder against him, bulge brushing again on your stomach as you craned your neck to feel him sigh blissfully before he sucked and nipped, intent to make you feel mushy in his arms.
“k’uk’ulkan.” you whined as he chuckles.
“your body reacts so eagerly.” he whispers. “have you been waiting for me to touch you like this, ki’ichpanech?” you couldn’t respond but nod lightly, the warmth of his overwhelming. your lips are sealed from embarrassment how right he is. the scruff of his beard tickles you so as he bites a bit harder making you grip his shawl. the only item of clothing you noticed he wore after countless times you had seen him in those green shorts.
“t'aan.” he commands, hands descending down to grasp your ass harshly. you squealed as he hoists you up, legs automatically wrapping around his waist. hands on his broad shoulders as he guides both of you to the bed in his hut. your back hitting the bed, him towering over you. you could see the feral look in his eyes as you can’t help but obey him.
“je’el.” you whimpered as he slants his mouth to yours again, eating you up. he can’t help but smile at how his language rolls off your lips, his mayan lessons paying off to you. your soft hands cupped his cheek, fueling the desire. his hand descends down to caress your thigh, rubbing gently before your dress pools to your stomach, lower half exposed to the cold air. namor could feel the heat he yearned as his fingertips gently brushed against your exposed cunt. you bare underneath the dress he provided, his aching cock wishing to come out.
“táan jach mojado, wáaj tuláakal ti' teen?” namor pressed his fingertip gently on your aching nub. you gasped, back arching, eyes slightly widening how the two of you are now doing this—
“please.” you begged as he only applied pressure, no rubbing or whatsoever, he seemed so smug as he had you this desperate. he shifts from his place, shrugging off his royal shawl, dropping it to the floor as he removes anything that might get into his way as he opens your legs, looking up for your consent as your eyes meet his.
“please.” you affirm again as he gingerly kisses the top of your knee.
he doesn’t know what fucking ambrosia fills his scent but the sight of your bare glistening cunt makes his whole body react accordingly. he descends down, kissing your knee before resting comfortably to kiss your inner thigh, the scent of your arousal tingling him.
“perfect.” he groans, can’t help but kiss your aching clit. licking his lips as your hands laced through his dark locks as he laps away like a starved man. you moan out, his tongue working wonders. you could not believe how eager he is to eat your cunt up like it’s his last meal. every flick, lick, kiss and suck, all over again and again making your thighs clamp hard around his head.
you fear you might suffocate him with your own cunt but you remembered the man literally breathes in water. namor could do this all day, he thinks, growling at how fucking tart your nectar is— how fucking dripping it is for him— only him.
namor melts between your thighs, in dazed and drunk. the sound of your muffled moans as the plush heat of your thighs at either sides of his face had him groaning. he sucks harsher, feeling your hips stutter as he puts his arm on top of your stomach to hold you in place. never stopping his feast, the more he licked and lapped, the more you begged with his name. his other hand could not help but slide down to his, gripping his clothed bulge, a shiver ran down his spine at the pressure that he could not take anymore.
“k’uk’ulkan…” you repeated, feeling your stomach coil in the pressure of his sinful mouth and tongue. he hums, pulling back, sitting up as his lips glistened with your arousal, fueling your desire as you whined. he palms himself, still staring down at you as you stared at the prize just under his hand. you carefully sat up, all thoughts seemingly trashed in your fucked-out mind. namor’s chest rose as he breathes in how angelic you are crawling towards him, your face dazed out and mouth glistening with your own saliva, hungry.
“what do you want, my love?” he asks as he grins making you momentarily look up to meet his eyes. you didn’t say anything as you pressed your lips to his bare stomach, making him shudder as his abs flexed the moment your soft lips touched his heated skin, the grip on his clothed cock tightened as you trailed down to meet his happy trail.
vixen. he surpasses the urge to call you that out loud, not when your hand is now shoving his hand away from his cock. he lets you do whatever you want with him, anticipation in his blood as your fingers curled in the hem of his shorts. ready for you to pull it down but you stopped for a moment as you stared up to him again, a plead in your gaze.
“can i?” you ask quietly.
something inside him breaks hearing your soft voice ask for his permission. he lets out a breath, hand coming up to caress your cheek as you nuzzled against his palm, waiting for his answer.
“je’el.” he nods, his words coming out in a slight tremble. he could feel himself succumb to the thought of you doing anything with him— everything in fact. you grin suddenly, breaking the eye contact as you pulled his shorts down completely, him helping you get it off as you tossed it to the ground.
namor groaned as his cock bounced up slightly, the cool air making him bite his lower lip as you gawked at it. you were speechless, taken aback, not expecting that it would be— that girthy in size. you gulped, remembering the countless times you would glance at his bulge whenever you two were either swimming in the sea or walking along the shore, it was something you couldn’t help but feel dirty for imagining what he truly looks like down their.
but now you’ve seen everything.
“you can take it, no?” he suddenly quips making you grumble in determination as you lulled yourself back from staring at his shaft. you wrapped your hand around his base making the said man shut up as he sighs out.
“i can.” you mumbled, totally not intimidated by his fucking length and girth overall. you pumped him slowly, right amount of pressure seeing the tip leak out a bit. wondering how you are making a said ‘god’ now weak on his knees, hearing little huffs come from his mouth but still looking so composed. you admired how reserved he looks as you dart your tongue out to lick the fat head.
“mierda—“ he grumbles, a hand gripping the back of your head as the other fumbled with your breast and whatever skin he can reach as he stays still watching you finally engulf him slowly. your mouth stretched accommodating his size as you hummed, liking the way he taste and maybe a tiny bit saltier— you were not complaining though.
“look at you.” he speaks with adoration, admiring the way you started to suck him off, letting him in deeper inside of your hot cavern inch by inch you can take. the way you are on your knees for him, glancing at him from time to time as you meet his hungry eyes. he resists the urge to fuck your mouth, savoring how determined you are to make him feel the same pleasure as he did on you. you were serious to making him feel good, bobbing your head up and down as your other hand gripped his base, pumping him where your mouth can’t reach. your eyes watered as the tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag a bit as you pulled him out, panting.
the string of saliva appeared as you licked your lips, kissing the tip again as you gently put him in your mouth again. namor hissed feeling the coil in his stomach almost snap. you continued on with your pace, liking the way you could hear his labored breaths and little groans, making you smile a bit as the salty taste of him had you addicted.
this is torture. namor thinks as he lets you suck him off for a bit before abruptly pulling himself out of your mouth, making you whine. he chuckles seeing your expression before he captured your lips again, tasting himself as he pushed you to lay back on the bed. you reciprocated with eagerness as you opened your legs for him to slant himself there, cock grazing your cunt making you let out a low moan in his mouth. namor swallows those pretty sounds of yours before pulling away as he pressed his forehead against yours. a knowing look in his eyes as you waited for him to speak first.
“can i?” he finally asks, grinding himself on your cunt. you whimpered, looking down to see how desperate he is before looking back to his eyes.
“please.” you muttered, cupping his cheeks as shuffles in his place. his hand reaching down to grasp himself, positioning his head to rub against your entrance as you cursed at the wet feeling.
“k’uk’ulkan…” you mewled, anticipating he’d ram himself inside of you this instant but he’s patient as ever as he rubs the fat bulb of his head on your clit, gathering enough slick before finally pushing in slowly. making your back arch at the intrusion as your hands fly down to grasp his broad shoulders.
“is it too much?” he suddenly asks, concerned, watching you carefully. you smiled at his concerns as you kissed the tip of his nose.
“it’s perfect.” you whispered, clenching around him to signal him to get on with it. namor growls as he does what you want, bottoming out in you as deep as he can go. he stills for the moment, you two immersed at the feeling of each other. a sort of fuzzy feeling of something special how connected you two are. gentle caresses and kisses of encouragement exchanged between the two of you as he finally gives an experimental thrust.
“perfecto.” he sighs, kissing you again as you grinned. namor grinds into you slowly at first, feeling the way your walls clench around him as he hits a spot. he leaves kisses on your face, marks on your neck, whispers of undying loving words how you make him feel so good. you merely moan out his name as he starts to pick up a good pace that has you desperate on him.
“jach jats'uts yáanal tin.” he pants, hand caressing you everywhere as he stares at your blissed out face. each hard snap of his hips making your body bounce at the intensity. the lewd wet slapping adding in as heat and sweat enveloped you two. you whimpered at how his cock was hitting that spot making your hips wiggle and back arch. it felt so sticky yet so good at how he’s so passionate about this.
absolutely perfect. your mind screams as you wrap your arms around his torso, grasping his back as he fucks you with vigor. your whines like a sirens song to his ears, he rests his lips on your forehead as he pounds into you. feeling himself on the verge as you clenched around him tightly as ever, a signal to him that you were also cumming. namor kisses every inch of your face before swallowing up your moans you were about to cum. your heart pounded in synch with his as he desperately fucked into you. you gasped loudly, gripping his skin, nails digging, body convulsing with pleasure as his thrusts became sloppier, pounding in through your orgasm.
“ki’ichpanech…” namor practically breaths out your name next, eyes shutting for a moment as he feels him release. one, two, three powerful thrusts sends him home as he almost rips the beddings apart above your head. blood rushes to your ears as the intensity stops. he slumps a bit, laying his weight on your body but not too much, fearing you’d be crushed. both your breaths only to be heard as it fills the silence of the room.
everything slows down the moment when his eyes flutter open to meet yours. the exact same eyes he had first met in the moonlight. your heart soars to see him soften as you kissed him gently, soft and pillowy it felt, something slow after that. your hand instinctively brushes the stray hair from his forehead, sweat beading there. he plants more kisses again on your face as you giggled, only gasping as he removes himself abruptly. there are so many things you wanted to say to him in those moment but all are left unsaid when he laces your hands together. a glint in his eyes, all you adore.
“stay with me, ki’ichpanech.” he says, as if you would leave him. you can’t help but nod quickly as ever like you did when he asked you to go with him here. you knew what you were in for and you were sure for it, knowing your heart won’t stop beating so loudly when he smiles now as you mutter a verbal confirmation out, concealing it. the glimpse of his mother’s bracelet on your wrist a wonderful glimpse of a future.
“i will.”
I FINISHED IT FINALLY AND HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE !! THANK U FOR THE PATIENCE. im back to writing finally. <3
pairings: aged up neteyam sully x fem omatikaya reader
warnings: nothing
w.c: 8.1k
s: what was neteyam's did come, his patience worked in his favor
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Neteyam stood with Lo’ak, Spider and Kiri talking in front of the council tent after a meeting with his father. You approach slowly from behind, not wanting to disrupt his conversation just yet. Lo’ak and Kiri spotted you first, Spider peeked around Neteyam, seeing you as well. Their eyes lit up smirking, waiting for Neteyam to notice.
He noticed the teasing smirks of his sibling's, immediately Neteyam narrowed his eyes.
“What—
The question caught in his throat, like air was punched from his lungs. His nose twitched in air, turning around so fast his braids snapped in the air. You stood there, hair freshly braided and decorated with beads new and old. No longer dressed in simple clothes, you wore your favorite top and loincloth holding that specific shade of green. Smiling softly, you tilted your head slightly eyes focused on Neteyam and his reaction.
“Hey.”
Neteyam smiled slowing heart in his ears, the shock of seeing you leaving him. “Hey.” Silence stretched between you two until Lo’ak filled it, “It's great to see you Y/n.” He grinned, no teasing but genuine relief. Kiri moved beside you her hands finding yours, “You look well sister.”
Spider nodded in agreement arms crossed over his chest, as he smiled up at you. You smiled at them, muttering soft thanks and replies, as Kiri began talking to you, Spider chiming in every now and than very animated but you found your eyes trailing over to Neteyam. He was already looking at you, shamelessly taking you in.
Thank you, great mother, Neteyam thought.
“Oh, the festivals coming up. We will see you there.” Lo’ak asked standing beside Neteyam, who nudged his brother at the mention of the event.
His gaze returned to you, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Neteyam assured, he knew you were probably hesitant as everyone would be there, you probably weren’t ready for that, not yet. You nodded slowly. “I’ll think about it.”
“Neteyam.”
Jake had exited the tent waiting for his eldest son, to pass on information. Neteyam released a sigh, right now he didn’t want to tend to his duties. Didn’t want to trail after his father like he has done for so many years. The urge to tell his father to wait just a moment lingered on his tongue, but he saw the way you looked at him. Understanding and promising of later. Neteyam gave a faint smile tail swishing behind him, “I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Neteyam assured speaking the promise aloud.
“Okay.” You smiled; his gold eyes stayed on you until he turned away to his father. Staring at his back longer than necessary, Lo’ak cleared his throat tearing your eyes away you noticed his lips curled in that all so familiar teasing smirk. You rolled your eyes at him.
Kiri giggled, “Come I’ll keep you company until Neteyam can.” She squeezed your hands softly, tugging you along.
“We will keep her company.” Lo’ak rephrase falling into step beside you. Spider followed along, walking backwards as he cupped his hands over his mouth calling out to Neteyam.
“We got her bro!”
Neteyam looked over his shoulder his smile soft as he shook his head at his sibling's antics, you glancing over you met his soft gaze giving him a side smile.
Jake stood silently watching as Neteyam gaze linger on until you turned a corner behind a tent, once out of sigh and remembering who he was talking to.
Neteyam turned away clearing his throat. “Sorry Sir.”
Jake released a short chuckle. Choosing not to speak on it.
—
You were coming back, returning to your former self. Neteyam saw you more around the village, your life you brought basked the clan in the afterglow. Like before his eyes followed you wherever you went, instead of starving off the crumbs you were willing to give like before. You caught his gaze every single time. Each time his heart jumped in his chest, as if to leave his body just to be held by you.
But Neteyam wasn’t the only one who eyes trailed after you, Nahìl also noticed you had decided to leave your kelku. To show yourself to the clan like before.
He also noticed you no longer wore his armband.
Yet at dinners you were nervous, surrounded by the clan who knew your courtship had fell through. Imagining them talking about you, staring at you and prodding for question or mocking you. The fear had begun to root deep as you stood at the edge resolve weakening with each passing thought until finally you shook your head.
“I can’t do this.”
Taking a step back to began to walk the path home, until you ran into a board firm chest, startling you. You stepped back apologizes ready to spill until you looked up, and his gentle amber eyes stared back at you. A ghost of a smirk on his lips as his eyes danced across your face in the moonlight, admiring the way your tanhì (bioluminescent freckles) shined against the dark.
“Where are you going?” His voice was low as if his words were only meant for you to hear. Your heart leaped in your chest the reaction foreign.
Pursing your lips, the laughter of the clan filled your ears instilling nerves into your system once again. “I can’t do this Neteyam.” Your eyes pleaded for him to understand as you brought your hand to your top, dancing a chosen bead between your pointer and thumb. Neteyam noticed the anxious gesture and his gaze softened, seeing this coming.
“I’ll get you some food, and we can eat somewhere else.” He said as he began to walk away. You grabbed his wrist stopping him. “No, you don’t have to come with me.”
“Why would I leave you alone?” Your heart skipped once again.
“Don’t you want to eat with your family and friends?” You tried to argue.
“Are you not both?” He retorted.
Opening your mouth to respond, you stopped seeing the determination in his eyes. And what you’ve learn from years of knowing Neteyam is that he was not one to quit easily.
“Fine,” you agreed reluctantly, your face slowly growing hot due to his heavy gaze. He smiled in triumph, “I’ll be back.”
Neteyam was quick to get you both food, leaves full and steaming. He moved swiftly to avoid other clan members; not wanting to keep you waiting. His strides were quick as he walked back to you handing you the food, “ready?” He asked, and you nodded taking a small bite of the meal. You walked beside Neteyam, on the path itched into the soil of pandora from your ancestors. Eyes followed your retreating figures—Nahìl eyes lingered on you.
Neteyam brought you to a small place, sheltered by the twisting of the towering trees of pandora providing a shelter for the two of you. Both sat at the thick log covered in moss serving as a cushion from the rough bark.
Conversation flowed easily while the two of you ate. Asking Neteyam of how he has been while you were rooting away in your kelku. He gave a causal shrug, “I was getting by.” He said trying to convince you he wasn’t an absolute wreck.
“Aren’t we all.” You sighed chewing at the meat the heat of it burning your fingertips, urging you to lick at your fingertips to soothe the pain. Neteyam eyes fell to your lips, watching the way they poured as you sucked at your finger. Swallowing he forcing himself to look away. Focusing on his own food. Light talk filled the silence until you brought up a topic he avoided.
“You know he told me to reconsider his courting.”
Neteyam head shot up, eyes darting across your face trying to pinpoint what you felt. You nodded absentmindedly to his silence. “He said my heart lies with another. Which is ridiculous because I swear I loved him.” You face scrunched with emotions.
“And it felt like he was just spitting my feelings back in my face.” You gritted, saddens replaced by anger. Neteyam ears flicked back, hesitant to ask the question yet needing an answer, a flicker of hope.
“Do you still?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with fear, and feelings unspoken. “Love him?” You questioned and Neteyam nodded, waiting for response patiently. Your gaze left the scenery of forest to fall on Neteyam. Watching the way his gold eyes lingered on you, the soft twitch of his tail uncertain behind him and the way his throat bobbed with every swallow.
Hand twitched beside you; your fingers reached for his side pinching at the soft bundle of nerves. A habit that seemed to never leave you. His eyes brightened not a flicker of pain crossing his face, but at the familiar gesture you’ve only done to him.
“I don’t believe so. Maybe it was not the will of the great mother.” You admitted and Neteyam shoulders relaxed his smile faint, until your pinched a little harder at his side causing his tail to flick harder the ends of it brushing against your wrist as if you rid himself of your painful touch. Though he would never want that. Instead, he looked at you accusingly until your laughter filled the quiet of the forest.
He had a chance.
With it, Neteyam made it clear everyday he wanted more, wanted to be your mate. He was always beside you wherever you went if he didn’t have anything to do. If he caught even a glimpse of you, he would be quick to follow after you ready to tend to your every need. Carrying anything your needed huge or small. Each time Lo’ak and Spider caught Neteyam beside you listening to your every word they would poke fun at him, Neteyam didn’t mind, he was over the moon to be of help to you.
He still brought gifts to your kelku for both you and your mother. Even crafted your gifts with the advice of his mother and sisters. He would present them to you, and every time he did, he saw the uncertainty in your eyes whenever you took it. You knew what he was doing, knew his intention yet never stopped him nor said no. Even in your uncertainty you wore his gifts plan for the village to see. Neteyam would smile proudly his chest puffed out whenever a male eye caught glimpse his gifts adoring your body—especially Nahìl.
On days Neteyam couldn’t slip away from his duties, under the stern supervision of his father and the elders he would sigh like child who had been banned of its favorite treat. Usually, if he could he would take you along with him on his duties just to be around you. But on these days when he sees you in passing, he would call for you, his voice carrying through the air.
“Yawne! (Beloved)”
Stilling you turned to see Neteyam surrounded by his father and warriors despite that, he waved to you his lips pulled into a charming grin showing his canines. You blinked noticing the way everyone stood still and silent. Realizing what the what the future Olo’eyktan had called you. Face flushing a steady purple you waved at him quickly before continuing on with your chores. Neteyam grinned proudly at the display, even when he got scolded by his father.
At dinners, when you finally had the courage to attended you were beside him always. Thighs pressed together as you two laughed and ate with your friends and family. The necklace he crafted for you glistened in the clan fire, the armband sat comfortably at the swell of your bicep. His touch was soft and respectful lingering at the small of your back. Your own found its place on his thigh, softly tapping when you wanted his attention of squeezing when you laughed at something.
Each time you did Neteyam heart swelled, it was as had nothing had changed. Before it was ruined, and he was tested. But this time, he wouldn’t fail. He wouldn’t be weakened by his resolve to find a mate suited for him nor one he didn’t truly love. For once he was going to be selfish and get what he wanted.
Neteyam leaned closer, his thumb coming to the corner of your lips wiping away juice the fruit you before. Turning you smiled at him, “thank you ma’teyam.”
Neteyam, wanted you.
“Seems she has chosen brother.” Nahìl friend stated, as Nahìl watched you beside Neteyam natural and easy, his fist tightened.
—
Today the two of you were to be hunting, you had asked Neteyam earlier in the week and he immediately agreed, setting a specific day alone for you two. While today was the day of the festival you and Neteyam where smart raising before the sun had awoken to finish what you were assigned.
Sprinting through the village smile across your face and bow in hand. At the edge of the clan, you saw Neteyam standing their bow over his shoulders and arrows in hand. His eyes found you quickly, tail swaying behind him happily.
Approaching him, you slowly came to a stop watching as his ears twitch up and towards you as he caught the way your lips moved. “We should go, before someone tries to guilt trip us into helping with preparations.” Neteyam giggled, hands moving to your brushing stray hairs away from your face. “I agree.” His golden gaze left yours briefly feeling eyes on him.
In the distance stood Nahìl, his eyes darting between you and Neteyam. Neteyam meet his gaze, not welcoming nor a glare just guarded. “What is it?” You asked, but before you could turn and see what had caught his attention. Before you could slip into the sadness you climbed your way out of. Neteyam hand moved to yours holding it softly, pulling you gently closer to him. “Nothing important. Let’s go.” He walked beside you into the forest, leaving Nahìl to swim in his growing rage and bitterness.
Running through the forest, Neteyam let you get ahead finding happiness in your laughter. “Come on Neteyam! I know you're letting me win!” You yelled; he shook his head his strides longer now as he easily caught up with you. “Can I not be a gentleman?”
You blinked at him, not understanding the word. “It’s means to be honorable, especially to a woman, tìyawn (love).” Once knowing the meaning, you rolled your eyes stopping on a thick branch, a small pond glistening below as Neteyam stopped beside you. “Your no fun.” You whined, ignoring the way you heart sped up at the name he had called you. Neteyam raised a hairless brow, “No fun huh?”
His hand rested on your shoulder, you gaze fell to it confused, until he pushed you gently. Yelping in surprise you swung your arms around helplessly as you fell into the pond below. Resurfacing you gasped for air, “Neteyam!” You scolded throwing water at him, but it didn’t reach him. His laughter was loud and carefree, “See I am fun.” He teased. You released a scoff laugh tossing your bow to the soil before swimming to get out, but Neteyam was quick to discard his bow beside yours jumping from the branch. His shadow covered you frighten; you swam away quickly as he splashing beside you.
“Do you intend to kill me?!” You gasped splashing Neteyam without mercy giving him no time to clear his vision. “Y/n!” He gasped. You laughed as he struggled to speak, every intake was filled with water, along with every blink. Having enough, Neteyam dove under the water tugging at your ankle to drag you down. Once under you kicked hopelessly at him, breaking the surface, you tried to swim away but Neteyam tugging at you tail causing you to squeal and splash at him again. The two of your continued to splash and fight in the water, laughter echoing through the air of pandora.
Exhausted and bodies humming with excitement the two of you left the pond wringing out your clothes and hair. Neteyam sat on a nearby boulder originally checking your bows to see if they were fine. But now, he was fixated on the way the water droplets that cling to your skin glistened against the sunlight.
“Yíkí told me Ty’sol asked her to be his date to the festival.” You bubbled with excitement.
“Really?” Neteyam replied, your voice pulling him form admiring you. He wasn’t shocked Ty’sol manage to confess his affections before he had told you of his own. He was very much knowing for risk taking like his baby brother.
You hummed deeming your hair dry enough as you ran your fingers through it. “Yeah, all anyone can talk about is having a date to the festival.” You said walked towards Neteyam sitting beside him. His eyes followed you, while yours remained on the mossy floor of pandora. “I imagine you already have one, right? Your mate to be will be on your arm tonight.” You smiled softly looking up at Neteyam. Who stared at you as if you had hung the stars.
“Yes, if she’ll have me.” His voice laced with such devotion that you stiffened at the sound of it, and his gaze. Those eyes seem to stare into your soul. You swallowed giggling nervously; eyes now locked on the smooth surface of the boulder.
“I didn’t believe Kiri when she told me you were having trouble finding a mate.” Neteyam remained quiet eyes studying you carefully, noticing the way you danced around his words. Your voice wavering, as you glided your hand over the smooth boulder.
“Why is that so hard for you to believe?” He asked humoring you. You giggling to yourself, “Girls fall over for you Neteyam.”
He groaned, “Did Lo’ak tell you that story?” You nodded smile bright and teasing. “It was funny watching him play it out with Spider.”
Neteyam shook his head still admiring you, “Well they can keep falling over. I’ve chosen who I want beside me.”
Your ears twitched in his direction, still refusing to meet his gaze, unconsciously your hand moved to the armband he had gifted you weeks ago. “Sevin (pretty).” Your breath hitched, as his voice filled your ears. Neteyam shifted beside you moving closer, the heat of him hitting you like a wave.
“I’ve been foolish to wait so long to tell you. To allow you the pain you felt prior. I’ve shown you I want you, and I’ve always wanted you. There is no one I want beside me expect you.” Neteyam poured out, words didn’t seem enough he couldn’t properly express his overwhelming love for you, yet those would have to do for now. Just until he could form the bond with you, then you would understand.
Silence filled the air between you before you swallowed body growing rapidly hot, the chill from your dip earlier long gone. You shook your head softly, “No.”
Neteyam ears twitched down against his braids, his heart sinking to the depths of his stomach at your response. “No. Neteyam you don’t want someone whose courtship failed.” You tugged at the armband as if to rid yourself of it, Neteyam noticed. "And to be your date to the festival? That would be bad for you, worse for your reputation.” Your fingers tightened around the craft, and Neteyam hand shot out to stop you.
“Look at me.”
His said voice soft and coaxing, slowly you pulled your gaze from the boulder to his gold gaze. Seeing his patience and determination. His hands moved to yours pulling them into his lap. “I don’t care about that. Nothing will stop the love I have for you; it flows as easy as the blood in my veins. Nahìl wasn’t for you. I want to be for you. Eywa, I want you for forever.” He confessed bring your hands flat against his chest; you inhaled sharply feeling his heated skin and beneath it the rapid beating of his heart. Your own mirrored it.
“Neteyam.”
Slowly, his hand moved to your face, cradling it gently. “I know you are hesitant. I’ve seen it, yet you’ve never stopped me. Not now, not before.” He was right, never have you told him to stop with his affections because you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. Deep down you never wanted him to, but you’ve never voiced that either. “I will wait for you. Trust I will not take another. For my heart is only for you, and you only.” Neteyam edged closer, his golden gaze asking silently for permission. Closing your eyes, your nod was subtle as you leaned forward meeting him halfway, forehead resting against each other.
The contact caused your breath to stutter, Neteyam shoulders relax, as he leaned more against you. The two of shared a shaky breath. “No matter you answer, I will be okay, will learn to. I just want to hear it from you mouth if you’ll have me or not.” He sighed against you, without a thought your hands softly clenched around his chest. “I want to think about.” You uttered quietly. He nodded against you, “Of course.” Neteyam didn’t want to move away from you, didn’t want to this to end so quickly. But there were things to be done; and the sooner he got you back the more time you had to think.
“We should head back.” You nodded against him, unmoving. Neteyam giggled lowly shift his forehead to your cheek nuzzling against you firmly. “Now tìyawn(love).”
Realizing you hadn’t pulled away, your face flushed as you moved abruptly removing your hands from his chest. Neteyam watched as you moved frantic and embarrassed, you tail lashing behind you, he smiled to himself proud he could invoke the reaction. Grabbing your bows you walked through the forest in silence. The rush of excitement from earlier was replaced by heavy tension, not uncomfortable but noticeable. Neteyam walked beside you, his gaze shifting over to you evey few minutes just to find you looking ahead. It was your short chuckle that broke the silence, calling for Neteyam attention.
“We didn’t catch anything.” You turned meeting his eyes, Neteyam blinked before laughing.
“Not much of a hunting trip huh?” He joked as his pushed a low handing leaf out of your way.
“Even so, it was nice.” You quietly muttered but Neteyam caught it. Stilling at the comment, his tail wagged happily behind him. Lost in his feelings his grip on the branch loosened causing the leaf to whack him in the face.
Turning you saw Neteyam standing there perplexed as he blinked at you. Laughing you walked back to him taking him by the wrist, “Come along.” You crooned, tugging him along behind you. Neteyam smiled like a lovesick puppy, smoothing slipping his hand into yours. He watched for your reaction, seeing if this was too much to ask for. As if he didn’t spend several minutes nuzzling against your forehead. Instead of pulling away, you tighten your grip around his hand.
The two of you walked close together, with light conversation just enjoying the quiet before the arriving home. The village came into view people scrambling around preparing for the festival. Your smile faltered before completely dropping away, steps coming to a halt as you exited the forest. Neteyam gaze fell to you concerned, noticing your expression of shock mixed with hurt. Following your line of sight, he found what changed your mood.
Nahìl.
You saw the swirl of emotions in his eyes anger, betrayal and knowing. Seeing Nahìl state Neteyam moved to stand before you, to shield you from what could happen and take whatever came. But you gripped tightened around his hand keeping him beside you.
“What is this?” Nahìl asked, eyes falling to your joined hands before settling on you. Biting the inside of your check, you ignored the bubbling emotions. Because you understood Nahìl anger, remembering that one conversation before it all came crashing down.
“We have returned from hunting—
“With him?” Nahìl interrupted, gaze shifting to your joined hands again. Hunting? While holding his hand, Nahìl fist tightened, tail lashing behind him.
“It was only a hunting—
Neteyam started but Nahìl letting his emotions cloud his mind and overtake him hissed angrily at Neteyam. Immediately Neteyam hissed back, taking a step forward teeth bared in a snarl at Nahìl. Both of them inch closer ready for anything, until you positioned yourself between the two of them. Stopping anything from happening progressing. Your hand left Neteyam’s to rest against his chest firmly.
“Mawey Neteyam (be calm).” You scolded gaze stern. Neteyam grumbled, turning his head away ears twitching down at your tone towards him.
Turning to Nahìl weeks of emotions resurfaced. “You called off the courting. You have nothing to do with me remember.”
Nahìl face flattered at the words he uttered carelessly at Neteyam that night. “Because of this.” His motioned between you and Neteyam.
“I don’t know where I stand—if you truly chose me.”
“I did choose you.” You uttered ears flattened against your head. “I chose you with all my heart, and you let your own emotions cloud your mind.” He took a step back arms hanging defeated beside him.
“But I was right, wasn’t I?” He muttered. You didn’t say anything, instead swallowed willing yourself not to look at Neteyam.
“You have chosen then.”
His voice wavered and you nodded, “There will always be lingering doubt. Anger and resentment beneath it all if we continued courting each other.”
Nahìl exhaled, nodding slowly. His eyes came to yours, regret in his gaze and in your own understanding and sympathy. “It wasn’t my path to walk as your mate.” You uttered, voice thick with emotion. Nahìl eyes went to your bicep, his court gift no longer there instead the one Neteyam had given you. He pursed his lips tearing his gaze away to look at you once more.
“Irayo (thank you). For the memories.” He murmured, meaning every word. “Thank you as well.” You nodded as he turned to walk away, not sparing Neteyam a glance.
Once he had gotten far enough, you exhaled shakily, not expecting the confrontation. Neteyam moved to stand in front of you, his ears pinned to his head. “I’m sorry.” He apologized, for his behavior yet he wasn’t sorry for defending you nor himself. You shook your head softly gaze falling to the ground. “You don’t have to apologize.” Your mumbled, voice small. Neteyam moved closer his hand resting on your elbow gentle and grounding.
“I’m going to head home.” You whispered. “I’ll walk you.” He said, readying to do as he had said but your hand moved to the one at your elbow, squeezing softly. “It’s okay. I’ll see you later.”
Neteyam tail stilled dropping low, “Yeah, okay.” You gave a faint smile, before walking past Neteyam heading home. He eyes followed you watching as your tail sat still, and ears against your hair. He sighed, shoulders dropping in defeat and worry. For you, and where this set back will lead for the both of you. Lo’ak and spider came over smiles on there faces ready to tease Neteyam.
“How it go?” Lo’ak slung his arm over his older brother shoulders, while Spider smile up at him waiting. Neteyam shook his head, “I told her.” Spider nodded.
“And?” He questioned dragging out the word. “It went well. She said she’ll think about it.” Neteyam mind drifted, remembering his forehead against yours, his breath mixing with yours, holding your hand. His own flexed remembering the feeling.
“Then Nahìl showed up and—
Neteyam released a huff dreading for when you did give him an answer. “I don’t know what will happened know.” Spider glanced at Lo’ak before looking back at Neteyam. “Well, that’s just one set back. But you just need to trust Y/n.” Spider assured confident. Neteyam simply nodded, not having the energy to speak.
“Come on, mom is preparing food and she said we could taste test.” He urged Neteyam along.
“Bro, didn’t she kick you out for eating most of it.” Spider reminded. Lo’ak tsked, “Neteyam didn’t, he’ll get me more.” Lo’ak grinned. Neteyam gave a small smile his head shaking softly.
—
Keep faith.
A mantra Neteyam has been telling himself since he left the tree of souls that night. He continued it even now, as he needed it more than ever.
The clan danced around the intensity of drums vibrates through the air. Yelling and hooting in celebration rang through the forest, Navi danced around others stuffed their faces and kids ran around laugher light, toys in hand. Neteyam stood lingering at the edge of the celebration away from the crowds, away from the elders who sought him. Seeking comfort in his siblings and close friends. Nursing his cup of fermented fruits, he had long forgotten about it as his eyes scanned through the crowd looking for you.
Neteyam wore his best loin cloth crafted by himself with Kiri and Tuk small critics in his ear, the smooth teal striking against his deep blue skin. His hair freshly braided decorated with his usual beads, with two feathers, one of his own and another you had given him when you were teenagers.
His best accessories adored his body, wearing them with honor, body painted in swirls of colors of yellow, white and green in celebration. He caught every stare of females; almost all tried to speak to him and he was polite in dismissing them and walking away. Giving them the only hope of watching him from afar. Only one plague his mind, and he still couldn’t find you.
Lo’ak leaned over so Neteyam could hear him over the loud drums. “She’ll come bro.” Lo’ak eyes fell to the full cup he had given Neteyam an hour ago. “Until than, loosen up. You don’t want to be stiff when she arrives.” Lo’ak nudged Neteyam cup with his own, sighing he took a sip swallowing the liquid easily. “I’m not stiff.”
“Right.” Lo’ak dragged out, laughing loud as he continued poking fun at his older brother. Neteyam got into the swing of the event stilling holding onto the hope that you will show up.
The festivities hummed in the distance; you sat in dim lit kelku with your mother, her hands moved expertly through your hair decorating it. Your top swirled around you body beads hanging loosely around your waist protecting what was needed. Your loin cloth held a striking green vibrant and bright sparkling in the fire light. Blue, white and yellow paint dance across your skin. Breathing deep and slow, your fingers trembled slightly as your nerves continued to grow.
“Be calm ma’ite (my daughter). There is nothing to fear.” You wanted to believe her, so badly but your mind betrayed you. “Do you not believe him?” Your mother inquired and you sighed, “I do.”
You believed him without a doubt. Neteyam was never one to lie to you in all your years of knowing him. “Then there is nothing to worry about, speak what is in your heart.” Your mother hands left your hair, letting the braids flow down your back gracefully, feathers and flowers scattered throughout your hair. She moved around you brushing a stray strand behind your ear showing the earrings that adored them. “Nga tìng nari yuey ma’ite. (You look beautiful my daughter)”
Smiling softly, you mumbled thanks to your mother. The both of you left your home quickly already missing so much of the festival due to your nerves. Even though the festivities had been raging for an hour, the ground rumbled and the air hummed with excitement and celebration. You eased your way into the crowd, your mother leaving you side with a gentle pat to your forearm.
You were so turned around you were shocked to see Yìkì, “You look so pretty Tsmuke(sister)!” She smiled brightly eyes moving over you. You gave a smile, “Thank you, as do you sister.” Yìkì was quick to pull you along to the others, her rambling deaf on you ears due to the chatter of the clan.
It was an only a moment, a silver of scent had Neteyam looking around— he smelt you but did not see you. “Bro, come on!” Spider tugged him along, in the opposite direction of where you had gone.
Sitting with your friends laughing and talking, enjoying the festival but even nothing could distract you from him. Every now and than, your eyes scanned over the crowd looking for Neteyam, but you failed to catch a glimpse of him. “Looking for someone?” Ty’sol teased beside you. You rolled your eyes at him, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” You spoke into the cup, drinking a little to distract yourself but not to get drunk. “I already know. I mean the two of you are basically wearing each other paints.” You frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”
“He wears your green and you wear his blue, not subtle at all.” Ty’sol smirked chuckling at the flush of your face, Yìkì tucked beside him nudged his side. “Leave her be.” Now you really wanted to find Neteyam. Before you could ask where he was and if you they seen him you heard the usual taunting and teasing voice.
“Well, well, well, look who finally graced us with their presence.” Lo’ak crouched down dramatically almost losing his footing. “Hello to you to Lo’ak.” You giggled, opening your mouth to ask.
“Have I seen my older brother?” He got out before you could. Nodding, Lo’ak laughed at your eagerness.
“I have, been trying to get him to loosen up, he’s been looking for you all night.” Your ears perked up.
“Could you take me to him?” You asked already sitting down the cup, “Of course!” Lo’ak sang hand out for you to take, and you did. Once up Lo’ak arm draped around your shoulder guiding you through the crowd so you wouldn’t get lost in it.
Your eyes trailed past all who surrounded you, peers, kids and elders alike. As Lo’ak lead you to Neteyam you grew increasingly nervous but excited you wanted to see him. Wanted to tell him everything, pour it all out as he did hours ago. It was then Lo’ak stopped and patted your back gently, “There is your mate to be.” He sang in your ear; you flushed turning and hitting at him. “Thank you and go away!”
Lo’ak laughed at your reaction, raising his hands up in surrender as he backed away. Neteyam head turned at the sound of your voice and he saw you. Standing there your braids freshly braided hair adorned with decorations, your top beautiful beaded two strands hung loosely encircling your slim waist, and your signature green loincloth beautiful completed your look. His pulse spiked when he noticed your body paint, realizing you whore his colors and he wore yours, ontop of that—you still wore the necklace and armband.
He couldn’t help the low laugh as he watched you playfully hit at his younger brother, shooing him away. As Lo’ak eased away, your eyes finally met Neteyam’s. Seeing him smile at you, fangs and all made your heart leap—and his appearance did nothing but worsen your state.
Your steps were light as you approached, Neteyam slipped past others meeting you halfway. His eyes danced across your face trying to take all of you in. “You look beautiful.” He spoke truthfully; you smile soft and easy at the compliment. “Hm, says the most handsome suitor here tonight.” Your gaze lingered his tone adorned body, especially on the body paints. Before realizing you pulled you gaze away returning to his face, you noticed the feather beside his usual one. Eyes widened slight, Neteyam realized you had finally noticed.
“I dressed for you alone.” He flirted, his statement having a double meaning. Embarrassed shoved him lightly fingers linger near his chest seconds longer, “ok stop hanging around Lo’ak.” Neteyam grinned, catching your hand intertwining it with his own.
“Have you eaten?” He asked, noticing your lack of drink and food. Shaking your head softly your eyes took in your surroundings. “No, my mind was a bit preoccupied.” You hinted. “Of me I assume.” Neteyam gloated.
“Confident of that?” You quirked a hairless brow.
Neteyam smirked. “I am.”
He tugged you closer to his body out of the way of another who walked past. “Let me get you food, my mother helped cook.” He said pulling you along before you could protest. Maneuvering through the crowd, Neteyam kept you close behind him, squeezing your hand every now and than.
Assuming you were going to where they cooks served the food, your eyes widened when you realized he was bringing you to his parents. “Mother, Father.” He greeted smiling proudly as he brought you beside him, your fingers came to your forehead in formal greeting to both Jake and Neytiri. Jake waved you off, “No need for that.” He smiled warmly at you while Neytiri without a word began preparing the food for both you and Neteyam. “You’ve been well?” She asked. Holding it out for you to take, Neteyam set down his cup handing you the leaf and taking his own. “I have, thanks to Neteyam.”
There eldest smiled proudly, “I had to bring her to eat your food Mother. Y/n has always had a taste for it.” Neteyam teased as you already began eating the food, bashfully you swallow quickly mumbling thanks. Neteyam chuckle as his hand came to the small of your back. “Do not choke.” He taunts prompting you to pinch at his side. “Hush.” You said still eating.
“Any news for us?” Jake asked, watching the close proximity of you and his eldest. Neytiri knowingly waited for the news as well, which was long overdue. “Not yet, but soon. Speak of I have to take her away.” Frowning confused you bided Jake and Neytiri farewell, and they giggle amongst themselves as Neteyam led you away hand still at your back.
“What news?” You asked licking at your fingers.
“Come with me.” He replied, avoiding your question.
“Where? Don’t start being mysterious again Neteyam.” You rolled your eyes. Neteyam grinned, “Not anymore yawne (beloved).”
“We need to talk do we not?” Your eyes widen slightly at the mention of the topic subtly. “Right.” You murmured to yourself, willing your heart to calm.
Once at the edge of the gathering, about to walk the path to that same spot Neteyam had taken you many times before. Yours ears caught, hooting and hollering. Turning, both you and Neteyam saw your friends and family cheering you on, cheering him on. Grinning proudly Neteyam waved them off, hand returning to you as you two disappeared into the forest.
As you drew closer to the shelter, Neteyam was quick to stand in front of you blocking your path. “Ok, close your eyes.” He asked eyes huge with excitement. Raising your hairless eyebrow, you questioning him. “You’ve brought me here before. What’s there to hide?” You said.
“I know, just trust me.” He pleaded; you closed your eyes. Neteyam took his time admiring your face, the way your tanhi (bioluminescent freckles) scattered across your face. Blinking he brought himself from his haze, hand finding yours guiding you down the path you’ve walked before. Once he had you standing where he wanted, he moved quickly taking your empty leaf and his full one sitting it down before returning to you.
Moving behind you, Neteyam released a shaky breath, you noticed. “Nervous?” You turned your head slightly behind you where he stood, he released a quick chuckle, “That noticeable?” You didn’t respond instead your hand moved behind you reaching for his, realizing what you were doing Neteyam hand found yours. Liking his lips his other hand rested at your forearm, thumb brushing over your skin to ease his own nerves.
Leaning near your ear, he whispered “open your eyes.” Ears twitching at the heat of his breath, you obediently opened your eyes. The familiar shelter overtook your eyes but this time it was decorated with small things, woven mats and fur blankets, baskets of fruit and food from the festival. Flowers hung against the thick trees, and scattered across the forest floor, it shined under the bioluminescent glow of the forest.
“Wow.” You exhaled, walking slowly toward the area admiring Neteyam work. He followed close behind, still holding your hand, closely watching your reaction. Turning to him, you smiled, “You are so secretive.” You teased. He grinned, “this is the only secret I kept, everything else you know.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you tugged him along to the woven mat as you sat down.
Beside each other the two of you continued eating and talking, pandora lived around you as you basked in each other presence. Neteyam laugh echoed through the area catching you attention and you admired him in all he is glory. The curved of his jaw, the grin on his lips, he was completely relaxed in your presence. He dropped his head smile still on his face, as his decoration braids shifted, sheltering his charming grin from your view.
Prompting you to reach out, moving his hair away from obstructing your view. Neteyam stilled at your touch, turning his head in your direction. Amber eyes meeting you own, your hand moved to cradle his face, thumb brushing over his cheek.
“Thank you, Neteyam.” You whispered. Neteyam sat patiently, waiting for you to continue. “For everything, Eywa has truly blessed me with you. I’m sorry for being too blind to see, slow to realize.” You confessed, mentally kicking yourself for making him wait so long. “I would’ve waited as long as it takes.” He declared with the same heavy conviction he always held for you. “You and your patience.” You giggled. Neteyam smiled, “It hasn’t failed me yet.”
You moved closer to him, thighs together. Neteyam hand moved to rest on your knee, the other rested behind you supporting his weight as he leaned closer. So, close the two of you shared a breath as before.
“I will be yours, if you’ll have me.”
You finally, admitted. Declaring to Neteyam that you want what he wants, to be with him. When your words sunk in, his golden eyes dilated, tail wagging behind him as his mind reeled to all the moments, he stood under the tree of souls praying to Eywa for this moment. For you to say these words to him, he was so overwhelmed, but he wanted nothing more for the feeling to completely overtake him now.
Quiet too long for his own liking, Neteyam scrambled his last working brain cells to answer you. “Y-Yes. I’ll have you, all of you.” He stuttered, hands moving to your back pulling you closer to him, your legs were basically in his lap. Both of you moved in sync, foreheads meeting together.
Unlike before, Neteyam was in no rush to move, nor break contact with you. Relishing in the feeling of you, knowing you are his and him yours, his mind repeated the same gnawing thought, something he could finally ask.
“Can I kiss you?”
His asked, shifted only an inch away, eyes dilated, as his chest heaved waiting for your reply. Nodding, Neteyam tail curled forward entangled with you own, buzzing with excitement and eagerness. But he moved slow not wanting rush even though there was no space between the two of you. Lips meeting his, the kiss gentle and slow. Neteyam savored the taste of you, something he has only dreamt of for years. Always believing you would taste of yovo fruit, yet you were even sweeter than that.
Tilting his head, Neteyam hand moved to cradle your face holding you in place as he deepened the kiss leaning in more, your own shifted to his neck in attempt to ground yourself. It felt as if you were floating, yet your gripped tightened beside his neck in attempt to ground yourself in the moment in his presence.
He needed air, you needed air but neither wanted to part, nothing felt more perfect than him claiming your lips exploring your mouth with curiosity and the determination to know you throughly. He couldn’t stop; finally having what he wanted so desperately—you.
“EYWA, BREATHE!”
The outburst startled before you and Neteyam apart, lips glistening and slightly swollen, both of you turned to see what had disrupted you. Hiding poorly in some bushes were Lo’ak, Ty’sol, Kiri, Spider and Yìkì. Neteyam huffed, chest raising rapidly as he greedily took in the air he didn’t want previously.
“Do you plan on suffocating?!” Lo’ak slurred clearly the drinks had gotten to him, but not enough for him not to tease his older brother.
“I never knew you would be like this Y/n. So greedy.” Yìkì tease, while Ty’sol whispered loudly learning it from Lo’ak. Feeling your face heat up, you hid away in Neteyam’s neck groaning softly for it them to stop.
“Go away.” Neteyam groaned his hand moving to your hip resting there. Lo’ak, Spider and Ty’sol still cheered and teased not nearly satisfied with just your embarrassment. Kiri and Yiki feeling sympathetic, ushered the troublesome trio away.
“I’ll tell mom and dad you’ve found your mate!” Lo’ak yelled over his shoulder while Kiri pushed him along. Neteyam gaze returned to you, plant a kiss in your hair. “Mother and father will be happy to hear that at least.” Neteyam spoke against your head, inhaling your scent greedily. Still resting against him, your ears turned up as your realized.
“Was that the news?”
Neteyam hummed looking at you, still in a daze from the taste of you that lingered on his lips. “What your parents asked about before, and you said not yet?” You continued trying to jog his memory. Neteyam grinned, “Maybe.” Face flushed once again, you hand came to your face in exasperation at your obliviousness. “Did everyone know expect me?”
He gave a downturned smile. “It doesn’t matter.” He said, holding your wrist pulling your hand away from your face. He kissed your palm holding it there before moving it to his chest. “You know now. And soon all will, and we will be mated before Eywa. You’ll be my forever, tìyawn (love).” Smiling you moved to press a quick kiss against his lips, Neteyam chased after you craving another, and who were you to deny him. “I love you, Neteyam.” You whispered against his lips. Kissing your firmly again, Neteyam pulled you into his lap, arms holding you around your waist. “I love you, yawne (beloved).”
—
The fated day had come.
The clan and his family and yours surrounded him and you, as both you knelt before Eywa. Mo’at stood before giving her blessing over you and Neteyam.
Neteyam amber eyes remained on you, the afterglow of the tree of souls kissed your skin so well it had him mesmerized. Meeting his gaze, you smiled eyes holding that resevered look of love only for him. Skin buzzing with anticipation, Neteyam held his kuru out, you reached behind you pulling yours to his. Slowly, the tendrils danced around each other before bonding together.
Air left your lungs at the overwhelming sensation, you felt it—his years of love and longing for you. How he felt words couldn’t describe it, so he showed it to you, in how he thought about you and how he saw you as the light at the end of his tunnel. One of his greatest motivators to keep going. His heart, you were always the center of it.
Neteyam felt your feelings, buried, uncertain and unnamed. The pain you experienced with Nahìl who you thought was the one for you. The way you mind slowly began to change as he showed up for you, always there quiet and steady. Yet his proclamation of love was always clear. He felt your love, no longer hiding but clear not only for him to see but all. He felt your excitement for the future with him, a family and the rest of your forever, Neteyam was in the center of it.
Opening his eyes, Neteyam felt the brush of your thumb against his cheek. Wiping the tear he didn’t know he had shedded, he noticed your own unshed ones as you giggled happily, foreheads touching.
“The bond has been made!” Mo’at declared to everyone, chants filled your ears. Praises of a great future for both you and Neteyam. Happiness, you didn’t the feeling could be so pure and overwhelming—it was so Neteyam.
He nuzzled against you. His prayers had been answered. What was his did come, you were finally with him, forever and he is eternally grateful.
Thank you, great mother.
a/n: thatsss a wrap now I absoulute loved Mine Will Come and Im glad everyone else did as well. Thank you for all the love and support and now I gotta decide on what to write next I have on toooo many WIP
tags: fluff and angst, lots of angst actually, implied childhood friends, confession kisses, mentions of death, one singular czech pet name, kissing viktor's moles, takes place during s1 act 2, so technically no s2 spoilers but some things are implied
in circles (running down) / viktor x gn!reader
word count: 15.7k
tags: character study, yearning, angst, seriously too much angst, hurt/comfort, implied past relationship, season 2 spoilers, s2 act 2 viktor, astral intimacy, (you follow the rumors of a healer to the commune, and viktor allows you to teach him what it means to be human)
nsfw ♡
forwards, beckon, rebound / machine herald!viktor x reader
word count: 16.2k
tags: 18+, reader is fem bodied, angst, size difference, fingering, choking, dry humping, praise, russian terms of endearment, somewhat toxic relationship, mild augmentation kink, way too many emotions, mix of arcane + league lore / spoilers
as above, so below / death sworn!viktor x reader
word count: 16.5k
tags: 18+, reader is fem bodied, reader uses gender neutral pronouns (but is referred to as 'farmgirl' once), mild violence / death, occult themes, blasphemy, power imbalance, size difference, fingering, riding, consensual mind control, mild painplay (viktor brands a sigil onto reader), praise kink, too much plot and feelings
steel kisses supernova / machine herald!viktor x reader
word count: 49.5k
tags: 18+, reader is gender neutral + fem bodied, reader uses they/them pronouns, wireplay, inappropriate use of hextech, bonding through near death experiences, divine machinery, reader has a prosthetic arm, repairing the machine herald, fluff + angst, praise kink, sexual tension, fingering + clit stim, size difference, protecting you with their own body trope, yearning, good lord you guys need to stop yearning, mix of arcane + league lore, vik's anatomy isn't mentioned. (terms used for reader: cunt, clit, no mentions of chest anatomy, dear, sweetheart, spark, love, adorable)
summary: A botched mission results in fixing the Machine Herald's mechanics, brushing your hands to wires, and indulging in the traces once left by emotion.
all I need / arcane herald!viktor x reader
word count: 12.9k
tags: 18+, reader is gender neutral (no anatomy is described, just that viktor is inside them), monsterfucking, mind meld, stomach bulge, size difference, marking, yearning, dom / sub undertones, praise, very slight degradation, aftercare. (pet names used for reader: little dove, little lamb, pet, love, my dear, beautiful, beloved)
drabbles ♡
one / assorted thoughts about purple viktor
two / the machine herald and the herald of the arcane sandwich
steel kisses supernova. / machine herald!viktor x reader
A botched mission results in fixing the Machine Herald's mechanics, brushing your hands to wires, and indulging in the traces once left by emotion.
tags: 18+, reader is gender neutral + fem bodied, reader uses they/them pronouns, wireplay, inappropriate use of hextech, bonding through near death experiences, divine machinery, reader has a prosthetic arm, repairing the machine herald, fluff + angst, praise kink, sexual tension, fingering + clit stim, size difference, protecting you with their own body trope, yearning, good lord you guys need to stop yearning, mix of arcane + league lore, vik's anatomy isn't mentioned. (terms used for reader: cunt, clit, no mentions of chest anatomy, dear, sweetheart, spark, love, adorable)
word count: 49.5k
note: hey!! please keep in mind, this fic is unfortunately too long for tumblr due to the word count + tumblr's post block limit... so you'll be able to read the first part of the fic here! the full fic is available in its entirety on ao3. apologies for the inconvenience, and happy (late) year of fucking robots...
read on ao3
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The deepest fissures in the depths of Zaun are usually, thankfully quiet. Perfect to hide something you'd expect not to be found.
You breathe deep puffs of simulated air through your gas mask. Your ear presses to the cold steel door, sealing off the entrance to the Chem-Baron vault. There shouldn't be anyone present, not at this time. Enforcers know little of the darkest labyrinths of Zaun. It's too risky to even have guards stationed here. Predictably, you're met with total, resounding silence — save for the echoing beep and ping of Viktor's self-made sonar device.
Lowering onto your knees, leaving yourself eye-level with the door's intricate set of five locks, you cast one more glance towards him. Viktor — the Machine Herald — completely towers over you, especially from this position.
It makes the back of your neck prickle on impulse. The two of you hardly resemble partners. Creator and creation, more like. One another's opposite image. A bright purpose for sets of technical, controlled executions. A fragile, too-emotional human, and a composed, powerful machine.
As though his complex steel form, an expression of the limits of his work and technology, was made to be admired.
Some people do. They come to him when they need him; just as you once did, ages ago. They worship him like a deity. Perhaps you're starting to see why.
Viktor hardly resembles the man you remember. And yet, there's a certain thrum to him. Mechanical beats and impulses. Familiar gear and hardware that delightfully push the boundaries of science. Vibrant, intricate, self-built components that demand your curiosity.
The Machine Herald captivates you, just as strongly as Viktor once did.
Viktor's mask voids him of expression. His orange, glowing eyes are the only light to illuminate the room. Still, there's urgency to the way he moves, stepping closer. His cape billows in the chamber's low draft, his iron boots clank when they hit the ground. His thumb flicks a thick button on the side of the sonar device.
The third arm jutting out from his shoulders tremors, before it comes to life. It scans the door with a bright red sensor, then twitches, shuts off. The sonar reader chimes approvingly in response.
Viktor gives you a nod. His gaze runs hot and intense, enough to burn right through you.
"The Hextech crystals are here. The device is picking up several readings," He discerns, modulated voice rumbling evenly. "If we are fortunate, we might return all of them."
You pull your gas mask from your face. It hangs loosely from your neck. The vault's thick, partially-filtered air hits your lungs hard. One deep breath in feels like you've filled your chest with half clouds, half sawdust.
You're trying your best to focus, examining the locks with your eyes squinted, when a gentle, yet firm hand places onto your shoulder.
"Do not rush," Viktor instructs. "We have time. This should be handled as quietly and discreetly as possible."
Artificial heat bleeds from his touch. Sparks of warmth, like black holes and galaxies, expand and implode beneath your skin. There's a sense of loss, when he carefully pulls his hand away. Allowing the cold to seep back in.
Your jaw clenches. Finally, you turn towards your metal arm.
The edges are smooth and shiny, recently welded. It's second nature to test the flexing of your fingers, even though you can't feel them; the metal creaks, but holds, gears turning, rigid platings twisting. Intricate patterns, in deep shades of silver and amber, line the frame. Fused together with a powerful ray of heat. A clear sign of his handiwork.
Recalling Viktor's instructions, you find a small notch on the underside. Press here, then pull this panel open. A thin lockpicking tool emerges from your palm, easily held between your steel-jointed fingers. Fit with its own handy flashlight.
It helps illuminate your work as you start on the first lock.
"How long do you think it'll take before they notice?" You're asking. Swearing to yourself, when the lockpick meets some resistance.
Viktor fiddles with the sonar device. "They will eventually. The crystals are nothing more than a bargaining chip. In all probability, once they attempt to sell them back to Piltover- Well, they will be in for an unpleasant surprise."
"We're making enemies of top and bottom side, then."
Viktor answers, "As anticipated."
It certainly wouldn't be the first time. This is all deathly familiar — working beside the Machine Herald, stealing tech to help those in Zaun. Though, this mission has been easy, in comparison. Perhaps a bit too easy. Your first tango with Zaun's upper echelon should've posed more of a challenge. All the crystals are right here, in an unguarded vault. No strings attached.
Viktor's boot taps against the ground to an impatient rhythm. So, you aren't the only one on edge.
You try to make conversation. "Thought about what you're gonna say to Miss Glasc?"
Rummaging through a Chem-Baron's property is one thing, certainly a dance with danger. Messing with Renata Glasc would be like prancing underneath a guillotine. She's influential, cunning, her connections nearly as bountiful as the coin that lines her pockets — and she's Viktor's benefactor, most pressingly. An important supplier of sheet metal, hardware, and painkillers.
"Glasc possesses no knowledge of this place. It is beyond her territory. Nevertheless, our alliance is not so easily relinquished, considering the rate of mutual benefit."
You put on your best faux, overly fancy voice. "We're her most beloved pawns, after all."
Viktor expels an amused huff in agreement.
The first lock ticks. When you move on to the second, it pops open around your lockpick in one smooth, simple movement.
You scoff, clicking your tongue, "As rich as these people are, you'd think they'd have a better security system."
"Our work here is not yet complete," Viktor replies, firmly and mechanically. He closes the sonar device, and he kneels down to hand it off to you. With your hands full, you're reaching around awkwardly, breathing an annoyed huff as you stuff it back into your pocket. "We still need to wipe the security cameras, and dispose of the thermal detectors."
"We?" The third lock clicks. "Pretty sure that's just my job."
"It is."
You throw him a quick, indignant glance. The fourth lock clicks open harshly, as you hastily jam your lockpick past the threshold.
"Almost done," You're mumbling, mostly to yourself.
"Excellent work," Viktor practically purrs, praise reverberating through his voice filter. "The new lockpick functions for you naturally, I see. We will be finished here soon."
Your spine tingles, like there's a lightning storm underneath your skin. Your heart pounds. It threatens to throw your composure off-kilter. To be praised by the feared, indecipherable Machine Herald is a wonderful, thrilling, head-rushing thing.
But you've stopped working on the last lock. The end of your lockpick taps the door idly, to no rhythm in particular.
Viktor notices.
"I thought I would provide you with some motivation. But here you are. Pouting, as expected."
A steel palm glides up from the small of your back, leading to your shoulder as he stands upright.
"First," Viktor explains, "I will obtain the crystals. Then, you will head to the security room, and I will stand guard in the event we are ambushed. We already discussed our plan. Have you forgotten?"
Your eyes roll. He says it like a taunt — you should try to remember, because he doesn't plan on reminding you twice. Although, in truth, there's little force behind the words. There never is, not when it comes to you.
"Actually, I remember being promised a reward in my future." You glance up at him, gaze playful, star-like. The lockpick twirls around your metal fingers. "Y'know, for all my hard work. I'm sure you haven't forgotten about that, right?"
Viktor hardly falters. "Once we return to the lab, we can discuss."
"Hm." You stare blankly at the last lock. Dramatically squinting your eyes, tapping your index to your chin. "I think my lockpick is broken."
Viktor grumbles, "You are ridiculous."
Your shoulders shrug. "Just clarifying our terms."
It's rhythmic — the way you instantly return to your work, turning away to hide your shit-eating grin. Your partner falls silent, for long enough to let the tension build. Metal creaks and scrapes together when his fingers clench. Either way, you're going to get what you want. You're certain. The push and pull between you always ends in your favor. It has to, because there is one exception to his rule. One weakness, amongst his perfected layers of inhuman machinery. An unacknowledged line connecting you and the Machine Herald.
If it were anyone else, if Viktor was made of less flesh and more machine, he might've attempted to circumvent this, to remove the aspects he deemed distractions, but you —
Viktor sighs, hard enough to push steam out from the edges of his mask.
"When we return, anything you desire from the lab is yours. Or I will add another modification onto your arm, if you prefer." His steel hand returns to your shoulder, this time giving you an authoritative squeeze. "Now, focus. First, the Hextech crystals. Then, the security system must be dismantled. Deciding will come later."
Anything you want.
The smirk on your face must make you look stupid, but you're having a difficult time holding it back. Continue to play your cards right, and one of those crystals might be yours.
"Alright, V." A single turn of your lockpick clicks open the final lock. You rise to your feet, and the lockpicking module folds back into your arm with a simple button press. "I'll get it done, yeah?"
Viktor approaches the door. You swiftly step aside.
"Good."
The vault is small. The metal door opens with a loud, grating creak. A flickering overhead light turns on automatically, revealing walls decorated by various rudimentary weapons, and tables littered with blueprints. Canisters of shimmer are stacked neatly in a corner. Unfinished machinery parts collect in piles on the floor. Resting atop a table in the far-right corner, graciously reflecting the light, you spot your target — a glass case, with a set of Hex Crystals suspended inside.
You stride in. Viktor grabs his staff, still leant up against the wall, and he follows you into the vault.
Your hands clasp together and rest behind your head. You glance around, examining the entirety of the room. A large blueprint is pinned to the wall; stolen, most likely, as it's signed with various Piltover clan symbols. It seems to detail a process to make similar crystals artificially. There's no cameras on the ceiling, or in any of the four corners. You lightly kick one of the piled-up automatons with your foot. The springs in its center make a dull popping noise. A clear sign that they're entirely broken.
"Wish you'd be a little nicer, though," You're humming, musing idly. You kneel down, sifting through the pile of components on the ground. A chipped gear, a loose screw, a broken lever. Why would a Chem-Baron vault be filled with useless, rusty parts? "You said it's a psychological thing, right? When humans are influenced by their emotions. Positive reinforcement, I guess."
Beep, beep, beep.
You rise to your feet, and Viktor answers from behind you. Voice dangerously close to your ear. Low and stern enough to make you tense. "Don't move."
Unfortunately, you're not listening. You spin around to face him, arms crossed in front of you. Your fingertips toy with a loose wire on the panelling of your forearm. Viktor is twice as imposing when he's close; he towers over you, with your head barely coming up to his metal chest. Glowing eyes meet yours, and although it's usually impossible to determine what he's thinking, you can instantly tell something is wrong.
He glances to either side of the room. His fingers drum against his staff quickly, almost nervously.
Both arms fall loose at your sides. "I'm teasing, Viktor-"
"Do not speak," Viktor snaps, his tone controlled. He grabs your shoulder, hard enough to nearly make your weak legs stumble. "And don't move."
Beep, beep, beep.
Oh. Prevailing over the silence is an unmistakable noise, getting louder, getting faster —
Fuck. You're freezing up, as still as a fancy Piltovan statue. Your hands start to shake, and now you're chipping, threatening to crumble. Sweat beads at your forehead and the back of your neck, trickling down like sharp ice shards. You're both screwed.
Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep.
Valves fall open; a loud hissing sound cuts through the air like a blade, as the room quickly fills with billows of smoke and sharp gasoline. Burning your eyes, choking your lungs.
Viktor's staff hits the ground with a clatter. He grabs you, pulls you into his chest before the fear in your mind has caught up with your body. Your breath catches, your vision blurs, your ears ring — and all at once, the vault crumbles into destruction, blown to bits in the wake of a deafeningly loud explosion.
—
"Hold still. Is there one single instruction that is not immediately lost on you?"
"I'm trying, Vik. Geez."
Viktor presses an old cloth to a long scrape on your forehead, fabric ripped and dirty with oil stains. The disinfectant stings your skin lightly. You try your best not to flinch away. Your stool creaks when you awkwardly shuffle back and forth, digging your nails into your leg, and Viktor's scrapes the concrete ground when he shifts closer. A cold metal hand tilts up your chin, holds you firmly in place. He brushes the rag over your jaw, next. Meticulous, as he cleans the faint scrapes left by glass fragments, and so, so gentle. Your heart twists inside your chest, grinds and sings like a music box wound up too quickly.
You force your breathing to steady. Your eyes stare into where his would be. Soft and golden, honey-drenched suns. The light of his pupils burns when you look at them too long. The artificial glow behind his mask carries amber-hued traces of what you remember, but he's utterly unreadable. Would he be looking at you with annoyance? Disdain? Guilt?
Another corner of the rag is brought to your neck, and you roll your sore shoulders back. Trying to find a distraction, your gaze trails to the table behind him.
Stray parts are scattered about. There's scalpels, messy rolls of bandages. Tools are sorted into piles: various wrenches, different sizes of pliers. In tonight's chaos, a few screwdrivers have rolled onto the ground already.
And at the edge of the table rests a small glass case. The lid cracked, the surface charred. Each Hex Crystal remains suspended inside. Completely, tauntingly unharmed.
Emberflit Alley is quiet and secluded, especially once night has fallen. Viktor's lab hums to its own familiar, comforting rhythm. It allows you to finally breathe again.
Experiments you've been working on together litter every flat surface. Breathing devices, prosthetic outlines. A prototype hand takes up its own corner of his desk, parts separated neatly. There's a makeshift bed by the door, surrounded with discarded cans, left by the stray cat you both have been feeding. A couch rests in the room's corner, cracked leather showing its age. Stacks of your clothing pile up on the arm, neatly folded. You're sure you'd last left them in a heap on the floor.
The adjacent end table houses an ashtray, littered with your smokes. Coffee stains burned into the wood form halos around your chrome lighter.
(Viktor made it ages ago, to replace the ones you kept losing. It never leaves your pocket. Your thumb likes to trace over the jagged, uneven edges, welded from scrap material. You flick the sparking gear until there's a flame. Molten and warm, reminiscent of his heat — over and over again.)
Finally, Viktor leans back, satisfied. He turns in his stool, tossing the rag onto the table. He sifts through his tools for a moment, metal clanking together, before he turns back to you, wrench in hand.
"Your arm." Viktor instructs simply, holding out his gloved hand; and you're quick to extend it for him, allowing him to grasp and examine the broken gaps between your forearm's metal platings.
The memory of the evening's events flicker dimly through your mind. You both were lucky, all things considered.
You fucked up, must've tripped something. The vault shook, a bomb went off, and everything was a blur from there. A mix of hazy sensations. Ears ringing. Head throbbing. Rubble pinning you into place. Thick fumes choking you, burning in your chest, making your eyes water. Suffocating the cramped vault and mixing with the heavy air of the fissures. Pressure assigns itself a stronger definition. Its force pushes between your ribs, as though it hopes to split them open.
Viktor's greys and oranges took on a watercolor swirl in your teary vision. He pressed your gas mask to your face until you were breathing again. He helped you to your feet, carried you when you were starting to fade in and out —
Right. Viktor shielded you. He purposefully pressed you beneath him with seconds to spare, to ensure most of the rubble would damage him, instead.
His chassis was mostly unscathed; the advantages of steel, you suppose.
Your arm is busted, undoing all of Viktor's recent enhancements. Your lungs still ache. Your body hurts. The sort of hurt that crests like a fully-encompassing wave, the form of hurt you can't name. Not a this is sore here, or a this is injured there.
It hardly matters, in the grand scheme of things.
If the explosion damaged the canisters and blew through the shimmer, if it reached the crystals and sparked a chain reaction, the decimation would have been unrecognizable, you're sure.
A dangerous chill laces up your spine. It taps you on the shoulder, reminds you of the risks. Viktor adjusts the crooked lockpick-panel on your palm. He holds your hand in place when your fingers start to twitch.
You're alright, though. Alive. The realization perplexes you. It makes your chest ache, the memory a tender blade, pressing deep.
Viktor saved you. And for the faint, blurry moments in between, it felt warm, to be held in his arms. It felt safe.
This feels safe, familiar — Viktor skillfully glides his gloved hand down your forearm, examining where the frame has buckled in on itself. Metal components have been warped by heat. The outer armor is digging into the steel skeleton, blocking several axles and hinges.
He reaches behind him, exchanging his wrench for pliers. You're watching him think as his fingertip taps your arm rhythmically. You can practically hear the vibrations of his memorized voice, echoing through your mind. The skeleton is unaffected, but the outer shell has been decimated. Most functions are rendered inoperable. Additional augments can be repaired in time. For now, returning function to the joints is the primary objective.
It is a simple adjustment. You are in good hands. As you always are.
Viktor has no problem with wordlessness. But matters between the two of you rarely get this silent.
He holds your arm in a tight, unmoving grip. Pliers in hand, he works on bending each plating back into place.
It reminds you of the past, pleasant and persistent. Viktor's been working to improve your prosthetic since you met. When the line between you sealed into a knot. When tension brought you together, two ships on stormy seas, and you decided to turn your sails and bond over the shared struggles you had to overcome — your arm, Viktor's leg. Piltover was less of a grave, and more of a home, then.
Weakness, experimentation, and danger followed Viktor as a second shadow. Ultimately, it only made sense to rush after him. No matter where he returned to, no matter what he was slated to become.
Without Viktor, you might find yourself flexing your handmade fingers, staring at the piece of him you're doomed to carry with you. A reminder of the half to your whole. Like the connection between gears. Like what the hammer is to the nail. Bright light to a systematic solar panel, crisp air to weak lungs. A hacksaw to fragile flesh. Inseparable.
Viktor finishes adjusting the armor on that very same arm, and he begins to reach for your shoulder. His glove brushes your skin. Gentle, but you swiftly realize it's meant to be a distraction, reassurance. Crooked screws dig into the separation between your shoulder and your arm; Viktor tightens them carefully, and you wince, tensing up.
Low and soft, Viktor's words crunch through his partially-damaged voice filter. "Tell me if I am hurting you."
"No, no," You're answering, shaking your head. "I'm fine. Just a little sore."
You shut your eyes. Viktor tightens the last screw. Fuzzy stars blanket your eyelids once they flutter open.
His Hexclaw reaches behind him, handing him another tool. Ever-so careful, he examines a dainty set of wires leading through your forearm. He pushes them aside, attempting to reach a line of broken pistons set into your wrist.
Metal clinks against metal. The lab hums quietly, jars bubbling, vents thrumming.
"I cannot believe you waltzed right in."
Oh. Viktor shatters the silence — and your placidity, along with it.
"We're gonna start with this now?" You're huffing; the steel tip of your boot taps the floor anxiously.
Viktor stops. He tips his head up, glowing eyes with rings of circular, mechanical pupils glancing at you. Expectant, intimidating.
Your entire body weakens when you sigh, jostling your arm, making him hold you tighter to keep you still. The firm grip he has on your forearm's frame screams annoyed.
"How the hell was I supposed to know they had the place tripped?" You argue, "And weren't you supposed to detect it? With that device, like you did with the cameras?"
"Thermal cameras give off a unique heat signature, which the device was tailored to analyze," Viktor explains evenly. The end of his multi-tool extends to reveal small tweezers, which he uses to delicately remove specs of rubble from the joints in your wrist. "The Hextech crystals, as well. The energy they radiate is relatively equivalent. Failing to detect the tripwire indicates a clear error of design. It will be adjusted for our next mission. Now, your wrist. Test how it functions."
Viktor sits back, and you twist your wrist in either direction. The joints swivel smoothly, and the modified pistons hold firm when you clench your hand.
"Perfect. This will suffice," He concludes, with the familiar air of pride he always regards for his creations. Grasping your forearm once more, he returns to working on its inner mechanisms.
"We needed those crystals, Vik," You're continuing. Fiery gaze fixated on him, even though he's focused on his work. "Our current procedures aren't cutting it anymore, and you know that better than anyone. Hextech has the potential to save so many people. I'm not like you. I can't just… sit around and calculate every possible outcome before I make a move. We can never make progress without taking-"
"Risks only serve as obstacles when they threaten permanent consequences. Progress is not linear. It comes to those who are patient enough to know when they should further it."
Viktor compares a few different sized gears in his palm, eventually choosing the smallest one. It fits perfectly into the juncture of mechanics just below your wrist.
He glances up at you once. Then, he calmly returns to adjusting your arm. "Impulsivity will get us nowhere."
You groan, tossing your head back.
"They tripped a vault. With explosives." You're gazing at the ceiling, focused on the large, Machine Herald shaped shadow Viktor casts as he works. "Why even store the crystals there if you're just going to blow them up the moment someone nabs them? It doesn't make sense."
"This was not about the crystals. They are sending a message. The Chem-Barons will not hesitate to dispose of us, if we continue to cross them."
The pieces click into place, in hindsight. Voices flit through your memory. Takeda's shimmer-drunk drawl as he leans back in his leather seat and counts his coin. Make sure you tell your tin-can he still owes me. Veraza's cold tone as she crushes a purple petal between her fingers, the thick air of her greenhouse planting roots inside your lungs. Careful, now. The other Chem-Barons believe you are pulling at your leash much too tightly. Do not let them break your neck.
Ah, the crystals were bait. An expensive trade-off. And the vault simply housed the things they were trying to get rid of. Unauthorized weapons. Stolen shimmer. You, and the Machine Herald.
Physical pieces slot where they're supposed to, as well, when Viktor finishes adjusting the chain of gears that line your steel skeleton. This was the easy part. He rolls his shoulders back in frustration, as he attempts to adjust some warped, particularly stubborn strips of framework.
"But this discussion is about you," Viktor grits, as though the words are spoken between bared canines. "What in the world could you have possibly been thinking? Or were you failing to think at all?"
Your eyes roll. "You know what? I don't even want to get into it."
"We are not getting into anything. It is a simple conversation," Viktor swears under his breath. He pulls and pulls at the thin cylinder but the broken metal won't give. "And I believe you should contribute."
"I think it's best if we don't talk about it. We're both stressed, and just-"
"I disagree."
"I'm fucking tired, Vik," You're huffing, free arm rubbing the sore nape of your neck in emphasis. "My whole body hurts. Sorry if I'm not thrilled to sit here and listen to you scold me, because somehow, this is all my fault."
Viktor rebuttals, "You are missing the point."
"Oh, I think I understand it perfectly."
"I am merely asking you to consider your actions." Viktor pulls at the last broken strip hard. It snaps, and he tosses it onto the table behind him with an equal display of impatience. "From now on, precautions must be put into place. Especially in situations involving the Chem-Barons. And you must promise me, if we find ourselves in a comparable situation, for once, you will listen."
"Fine."
You're yanking your arm away the moment he finishes closing the platings. You examine it quickly, front and back, flexing your fingers. Some sections are still chipped, but it'll do. Clear, delicate care has been put into the intricate assembly of each division, each joint, to ensure movement is as comfortable and responsive as possible. Viktor's work is always articulate, but doubly so, when it comes to you.
His adjustments have already taken considerable weight off your shoulder. Surges of warmth kindle faint flames in your chest — but you're sighing, arms crossing, brows pinching.
"Next time, I'll stay here. Keep the place warm, since it's all I'm good at."
"I did not-" Viktor weakens in the wake of a sigh, as if the air is shuddering through his makeshift lungs. "I apologize, I should not have made it seem as if I was blaming you-"
"No," You interrupt. Teeth gritted. "I'm tired of feeling like all I do is get in your way."
You know you're being unreasonable, but you hardly care. The words simply tumble out, like they've been toppled from the knots in your mind. You glance down. Your fingertips fiddle with a line of screws embedded into your forearm.
Whatever rebuttal Viktor was planning dies as quickly as a blossom in a snowstorm. He drops forwards; his fingers lace, he rests his forehead against them. Tension buds in his body like you've never seen before. Finally, he runs a hand through his hair, and he sits up.
His voice fizzles with heavy, husky, insuppressible static.
"I could have lost you. That is what you do not understand."
Your spine tingles. As though it's laced in gold. You can feel the pull of guilt and tenderness — like gravity, in your heart, in your chest, in your flesh. The words must flicker differently through a mostly mechanical system, if they mean anything to him at all.
You stand slowly, kicking your stool away half-heartedly.
He's grabbing your wrist before you can get far. Your real wrist. He holds you there, hesitant. (The changing of seasons rarely reaches the depths of Zaun; you're gradually beginning to forget what they're like.) But Gods, Viktor's steel touch feels the same as the heat of summer, artificial warmth resembling basking in sun rays, dipping your wrist into candle wax. And yet, at the same time, it reminds you of the frigid chill of winter. Cool metal reminiscent of the sharpness of ice.
"Lay down," Viktor instructs, as though he plans to give you little choice in the matter. "It is late. You should rest."
Perhaps you truly do have a problem with listening.
Because even as Viktor is speaking, your gaze is travelling across him, eyes narrowing as they catch downwards. Your partner hates asking for assistance, but you're used to reciprocity — to completing something for him, in exchange for what he does for you. To further the cycle of fixing and repairing. Little losses and small victories, strung between the fate of you, and the Machine Herald.
Viktor's hand slips from your wrist. He follows your line of sight, and there's a look in your gaze he's long since come to recognize. Pure persistence.
Your palm reaches out to him, makes a grabbing motion. "Screwdriver."
Viktor drums his steel fingers against his iron thigh, making metal rhythmically clink against metal. Your stubborn nature is a stake, driving into him intimately. Like it never really left.
Leaning his elbow on the desk, he reaches behind him, to hand you the particular screwdriver he knows you'll need. Flat-tipped, handle weighty. A light smile paints satisfaction across your expression. He continues to keep his gaze on you as you're sliding down — your frame appears small, when compared to his, simply because you're only human; this state amplifies the difference between your mortal form, and his large, metal chassis. Eventually, you're settling on your knees in front of him.
The column of his leg is busted. It's functional, sure, but a few of the plates were crushed under rubble, the brace-like mechanism has springs loose and cogs twisted. Everything might crack, under the strain of continued usage.
For now, you can fix the platings. You've done it before. On his arms, a few times. On his back, once. You'll reinforce the gears and tighten the framework back into place, to keep it stable, until he has the time to make a full replacement.
You decide to start with his ankle, and work your way up. You're lifting his heavy leg, exhaling a weary breath as you place it close to your lap. The end of your screwdriver finds the seam on the back of his calf, screws crooked and stripped. Your jaw grits. You forcibly push the steel back into place, tightening each screw as far as it'll go.
(And you're aware this is stupidly reminiscent of a lifetime before, although Viktor is twice as metal, and half as human. Emotions and sentiment are among the many things he swore he discarded.) Yet, he's leaning back. Relaxing, almost. Giving in to you, to this.
Unable to sit still for long, Viktor twists. He finds the two broken halves of his staff, resting them in his lap, pressing them together. The Hexclaw twitches, before its laser hums. He begins to expertly weld both halves together.
After a while, you're breaking the silence. "Vik?"
Viktor doesn't look up. He examines the end of his staff, fiddles with a few wires and jacks. It's still out of power, predictably.
"Yes?"
"Back then, when the bomb went off." Your fingers trail his knee, admiring the smooth, solid structure. "You tried to protect me. Why?"
"I thought you did not want to talk about this."
You breathe a slight tch. "Just answer me."
You're glancing up at him, but Viktor is pointedly not looking at you. His Hexclaw curls behind him to set his staff on the table, and to grab another part. In tandem, he's reaching for his throat, pulling its front panel open.
He tilts his head back. Thumbs through the wires and exposed circuitry to yank a small part free, so hastily it seems like it'd hurt. He shoves the new voice box inside, until it clicks into place. Viktor rolls his neck once the panel is shut.
"The explosion was inclined to originate from the entrance, perhaps aiming to trap us inside," He explains, voice strikingly clear, this time. "As soon as it convened on the shimmer or the crystals, the entire room would be set ablaze. Fortunately, it did not. It was a poor plan. But, regardless of their failures, you are… not suited to withstand such conditions. The only option was to use my construction as a shield."
Your chest splits with an arrow-shot ache, because you know he's fucking right. If Viktor wasn't there, or if the fire had spread just a little more; if you weren't standing so close to him, or if your gas mask had broken, or if anything had changed —
You swallow hard enough to make your eardrums prickle, and you busy yourself with fixing the drilled-in brace, just above his knee.
"I guess that makes sense."
"And our mission was a success," Viktor reasons. "Was it not?"
"We got the crystals. But-" Your grip tightens on the screwdriver's handle. You breathe a long sigh, heavy enough to make your lungs hurt. "I'm sorry. For snapping at you, for acting like an idiot, for everything. I should've known it was a setup. The stupid vault was filled with junk. And I was standing so close to those shimmer canisters, I could've-"
Your head shakes; your breath does, too. "Nevermind."
Viktor's gloved hand grasps his gauntlet, where the power source feeds energy into his palm. You swear you catch his fingers trembling just slightly, as he deftly pulls the panelwork apart.
"My body will not take long to fix," He replies. Metal fingers clenching individually, while he prods deep into his own arm. "If that is your concern."
Your palm glides up his thigh slowly, exploring every dip and notch in the shape. Firm steel curves under your fingers. Beckoningly smooth. "I know. I want to make this up to you, is all."
A steel index finger drifts underneath your chin, tilting your head upwards, in his direction.
It's momentary. Viktor takes his hand away to grasp his gauntlet again, snapping the panel on his wrist shut. The molten light on the back of his hand glows brightly, indicating a newfound charge of energy.
"I need you to listen carefully."
"Mmm," You hum. You're warm, pliable, electricity traveling from the base of your neck to the end of your spine, like gliding gentle touches over tender bruises — "I'm listening."
"This was a minor setback, nothing more," Viktor continues. "Betrayal from the Chem-Barons was anticipated. Your safety is my only concern. On that subject, I believe I have made myself clear. There is no need to hold yourself responsible. You do not owe me anything."
Right. Just your life.
You take your time on the last screw in his upper leg. Rising to your feet, you toss the screwdriver onto the desk, causing it to roll all the way to the edge. You give him a swift once over.
The back of your hand taps against his chest. "Something's broken in here. The platings are all misaligned."
"Potentially."
Viktor grasps your hand. Squeezing, first, before he pushes it away. Gods, you know it's artificial and intentionally practiced — Does a machine's best attempt at replication still count as intimacy? — but it makes your head spin, all the same.
"I will handle it," He concludes, assured. Words thick and accented as they rumble through his filter.
Your head shakes. "No, it's- this isn't some kind of obligation. I want to fix this for you."
"Spark, you have done enough for me. You may rest, now."
The next breath you draw in aches to say his name.
So, you let it.
"Viktor," You murmur, although a hard, determined edge is returning to your voice, one that doesn't intend to take no for an answer, "Let me help you."
You can feel the vibrating thrum of machinery beneath your palm, with your hand pressed flat to his chest. You half-expect another argument to ensue. You're preparing for it, as you worry an impression into your bottom lip. Instead, Viktor shifts, sitting up fully.
He reaches down. Thumbs pressing a set of latching mechanisms, one on each of his sides. The armor around his entire midsection begins to hiss approvingly, releasing small puffs of pressurized steam.
"This," He starts, although he's already popping open the structure of his central system, "Would prove much more simple if I chose to complete it myself. But I will teach you. If you are willing."
Your smile shows your canines. "Of course."
The moment Viktor has his platings fully opened for you, armor swiveled to the side like doors on hinges, a thick blanket of smoke pours out, filling your lungs. You cough, batting it away. The sound of his machinery is so much louder: ticking gears, moving pistons, the hum of various pumps. Your eyes squint, and you place your hands on your knees, bending down to peer inside.
It reminds you of the automatons you've worked on together. The blueprints he followed for his own structure must have been similar, at least. But this won't be like operating on a person, nor an automaton. The little fixings you've done for the people of Zaun, fusing organic with inorganic, pale in comparison to the complicated system before you. Viktor's system.
Viktor's fingertips dance over the inner edges of his armor, pressing a few more latches into place. Locking functions, you're guessing. To keep the platings open.
"At odds with your expectations?" He questions, noticing your hesitation.
"Well, I suppose," You're answering, throat dry. "This wasn't what I was expecting, no."
"Ah. I will take it from here, then."
"No, just… give me a minute. Need to get my bearings."
A lull takes over. Viktor leans back slowly, he rests his elbows on the desk behind him; hands clenching, as he resists the reflexive tick to busy them. You allow yourself to kneel, still propped up enough to put your gaze eye-level with his mechanics.
It's… a lot.
You couldn't even begin to describe every individual intricacy. Different mechanisms all work in tandem, pushing out steam, clicking gears into place, powering various motors; and there's hundreds of wires, leading every which way like veins. They connect through a diverse array of parts, but they all inevitably curl into one central space — like the crest of a wave, like a Fibonacci spiral, an unintentional golden ratio. Bridging into a singular unit, runes carved on its edges. A small crystal suspended within.
You're reminded of Viktor's words from years prior, when his newfound form first perplexed you. When you steeled yourself and simply asked, because your gaze kept catching on the jarred organs surrounding his workspace, despite his declarations that he'd relinquished all of himself. Because you're watching him dig a scalpel into his forearm, skin dead and pallid like snow, obsidian-hued blood trickling into the gap between sizzling, split circuitry.
It was practical, this way. To replace imperfect organs with a consistent, mechanical system.
Actually, the configuration before you is anything but.
The mechanics show signs of Viktor's own handiwork. Welded edges, carefully constructed synapses. Bundles of wires have been grouped together messily. Displaying a clear motive: to focus on making a functional system, not a pristine one.
The central unit, housing the crystal, is surrounded by two large pipelines, interconnected by steel conduits. Their purpose is lost on you, but one is smaller, the pipe closest to the unit. Like the way one lung is smaller to give room for the heart.
Some of the parts are recognizable, albeit a bit rudimentary; they're prototypes you remember improving upon ages ago. Viktor must have deemed them still functional. Or perhaps, he hasn't had the time to replace them. It humanizes him, in a strange, opposite way. Viktor is so busy with the rest of his endeavors — evolving his plans for the Undercity, assisting others, including you — he hasn't been able to rebuild himself.
And there is something beautiful about it, about him. Something worth worshipping. Alluringly, divinely synthetic, self-made by his hands. Everything within him vibrates with electricity and life. Resembling a tangible, second soul.
(You're starting to understand those who pray for their flesh to be replaced with mechanics. Those who worship their image of the Machine Herald, despite not knowing he was once a man, just like them. Because still, every time you see them, knelt in reverence before a statue or a stained-glass depiction of the Grey Lady, you can't help but think of Viktor, and yourself.)
Your heart hammers wildly inside your chest, a perfect contrast to his steady, exposed system. Your breath echoes so sharply through the lab, you're sure with the proximity, he can hear it, too.
Maybe it's the circumstance — this is Viktor, after all. You're giving yourself a headache, trying to figure out how you should work on your own partner, how to understand the Machine Herald's stupidly ornate insides.
And it's exciting, interesting. You've never worked on anything so complex before. He's a puzzle you desperately want to learn to solve.
But, more than anything, this feels personal. Intimate. It's a thrilling, entirely new way to admire him, yet you're finding it difficult to stay relaxed. You think of the Viktor you once knew. Of how it would feel to be shown the softness of his guts. To be asked to dig through his sinews and his lungs and his innards, instead of wires and mechanics and gadgetry. Palms brushing a body made of fragile bones and pallid skin, not metal.
Fucking hell. You'd do it, either way. Without hesitation.
"Okay," You breathe, attempting to place yourself back on course. You rub the overwhelming tension from your temple, allowing your tired eyes to close for a fleeting second. Then, you're pulling up your stool, sitting across from him to continue your examinations.
Beneath his mask, Viktor's gaze stays magnetized to you. To the pinch in your brows, to your hands folded in your lap, moving with the bounce of your knee.
The curious, ambitious, lost-in-thought side to you is always impossibly enthralling.
"This is sort of familiar, actually," You reason, as though you're trying to convince yourself. "Kind of like Blitz, just… way, way more advanced."
You focus on locating the parts you recognize, as opposed to the ones you don't. The center unit is definitely a main power source. The pumps and fans surrounding it are likely for cooling. It amazes you, honestly. Viktor must know all of this like the back of his hand.
"I will explain the process to the best of my ability." Viktor replies.
"I'm, uh- a little nervous, V. It's your body, and I just- I don't want to mess anything up. When's the last time someone poked around in here? Is there anything I definitely shouldn't touch?"
Viktor clenches his hands idly. He leans back a bit further. "Comply with my instructions, for now. Once the major repairs are complete, and we have eliminated all present malfunctions, you will be free to tinker with each apparatus, as you see fit."
"Okay. I can do that."
"As for your additional question, it has been quite a while since I have improved upon my own design. This would make you the only one I have… shown this to, for lack of a more acceptable term."
"Oh." You shrink up, recoiling your hands before they can reach for him. Jaw set, as you bite down your own nerves. "Should I- are you sure this is okay, then?"
"Yes." Viktor's head tilts slightly, analyzing. "Go on. I trust you."
Your heart races at that. Running circles around itself, abiding by its own laws of chemistry to create unbridled, newfound energy in your chest.
Without another moment of hesitation, you shift closer, and you stick your hands inside.
Warmth radiates off of him, sparking from the countless movements of parts and mechanics. It warms your face, envelops your palms as if you've held them to a campfire. It's definitely too hot, all things considered.
"Looks like there's a problem with temperature," You're commenting, although it's certainly obvious. You run your fingertip over a line of fan blades, set into the top of his chassis. You turn them yourself, and pick out a few tiny pieces of rubble. "Yeah, fans are all stuck."
"The fans are an auxiliary measure," Viktor clarifies, tone smooth and systematic. "The central pump must not be pushing coolant. Check the thermoregulation cylinders. They lead into the manifold."
"Vik." Your gaze flickers up. "Whatever you just said, it sounded like total mechanical gibberish."
"Give me your hand."
With his metal palm already extended, you lean forward, and you gently brush your warm fingers to his.
Viktor guides you carefully, steel digits closed around yours; the entirety of your hand fits in his palm with ease, it's at least twice the size of your own. Your fingertips slip past wires and circuitry, to hover over an intricate array of cylindrical conduits.
"Do they feel hot? The cylinders," Viktor clarifies. "Touch them carefully. Do not let them burn you."
His grip on your hand loosens. You're wincing, as you hesitantly press your fingertips forwards — but the metal isn't hot. Far from it, in fact.
"No, they're… lukewarm, maybe."
"Hm." Viktor leans back once more, elbows propped on the desk behind him. "We will begin with the fans. This fix will be the least complex."
"They connect to a main unit, right?" You're asking, even though you've already started moving on your own. The automatons you remember working on carry similar cooling systems. "If that goes out, they all do."
"Correct."
You follow a fan's wiring with your hands. It loops several times, before it plugs into a small metal box: sides caved in, surface smashed.
"Ah. Found the problem." You tap the surface of the power supply with your nails. "It's busted."
"Do not touch it yet," Viktor instructs. "Its processes may still be running, in which case, it could overheat. Remove each connector and extract the unit. I will add it to my list of obligations, I suppose."
You quickly pull every wire from the fan power unit, and you reach over his shoulder to place it on the desk. Viktor leans his head back. A few valves in his chest expel large puffs of steam, somewhat akin to a sigh.
"The main cylinders," He continues, "Do you remember where they are located?"
"Mhmm." You find the cylinders with your fingertips. Metal smooth, cool to the touch.
Viktor stretches, rolling his shoulders back, armor slightly clinking together. He tips his head down to study you.
"Shift your hand to your right. You will find a main cooling manifold. Open it. Flip both notches paneled into the intake. Up, for precisely three seconds. Then, flip them down. It will overclock the thermocore, enabling a full reactivation."
You nod slowly. Right, you've got all that. Open, flip, down, close.
Your fingers brush along the cylinders until you find where they lead into. The manifold's panel opens easily — slowly, with all the delicacy of opening up a ribcage. Fingertips to the notches, you push them both up; like tending to a wound, like softly tracing scar tissue. With bated breath, you keep count in your head. One. Two. Three. Then, down.
You click the front panel back into place, and the entire assembly begins to whir.
"Now, they will resume function. The systems are… cooling down- very good, well done." Viktor affirms, tone ripe with relief. Within him, sets of valves and pistons gently heave.
His praise makes you shiver. Selfishly, you want to hear more. The cylinders are starting up. They're still slightly cool, as you drag your fingers across them; but Viktor's warm voice has the opposite effect. Guiding heat to coil and ignite in your gut, like you've swallowed phosphorus and matchsticks.
You remove your hands carefully, settling them in your lap, and you give Viktor time to catch his breath.
The manifold shudders. Briefly overloaded by the extra draw of power, perhaps. Viktor's machinery works synchronically to reign it in; his shoulders tense, he reaches into his stomach and messes with a few components, flipping switches, thumbing regulators. He leans back, and the large central cylinders strongly push out smoky air, reminiscent of lungs.
Strong is a good way to describe the Machine Herald's construction. Complicated, durable, and intentionally intimidating. There's power behind the grind of every mechanical process. Parts are entrailed together haphazardly, vitals cased in metal, strung between wires — clearly not meant to be toyed with, to be examined by someone who is foreign to them.
And yet, here you are.
Old, rusted mechanics take the place of scars. Tracing your fingertips along his steel skeleton might remind you of brushing them over a defined ribcage. Individual colored wires form auroras, purposefully tethered. Able to be memorized — like you once did for constellations on soft skin, dotted in freckles and moles.
Oh, how you long to reach out and touch.
(It wouldn't be the same — but how would it feel? Would some wires be cool, rough, while some are smooth, warm? Fit with their own small intricacies: frayed insides, different electric charges. You could be gentle with some, and rough, with others. His pressure points would buzz underneath your fingertips. Shudder like a body arching into warmth. Would Viktor stop you, or would he give in — a betrayal of what he was made for, to finally pull you closer?)
Hands still in your lap, you fiddle with your thumbs. Viktor's chest reverberates. Every mechanic convenes into his center, feeding into pumps and wire splitters, like arteries. Powered by a small, perplexing device with suspended panels. The metal is carved in rune-work. Protecting a gemstone, illuminated in hues of faint, blue light. It strikes you as Hextech inspired, though clearly more machine than magic.
"Viktor, this crystal," You're asking, "What is it?"
"That," Viktor's gaze stays trained on you. "Would be what functions as my heart."
Your eyes sparkle. "Can I-"
"Yes," Viktor interrupts, disgruntled. He knows that look, and he doesn't intend on fighting it. "Inspect it if you must. The gemstone is not my only power supply. Simply one of many."
As your curious fingers approach, reaching into his chest, the device appears to open without prompting — panels shifting, sides unfurling. Coaxing you in.
Your fingertips meet the gemstone, gently admiring; the surface is smooth like a petal, like gliding a pen over paper. It pulses with rhythmic energy, akin to a heartbeat. Viktor shifts, he breathes a cross between a gentle sigh and a mechanical hiss. When the stone drops into your palm, it is solid, warm. Energy-rich and beautiful. It reminds you of an oyster's pearl. Cosmic shades of purple and blue shift within its shape.
"Vik- Wow." You let go of a small, tensionless laugh in amazement — you're literally holding Viktor's heart in your hand; "This is incredible. You're incredible."
Viktor tenses. Energy thrums from the crystal, sparking hard against your skin. You choke in a sharp, pained breath, and you take your hand away quickly, leaving the gemstone to return to suspension.
Ah. Viktor's heart just shocked you.
You're barely able to reconvene; his Hexclaw grabs your face, tilting you gently yet forcefully, guiding you to meet an expressionless mask and glowing, motionless eyes.
"Enough," Viktor asserts. "I require your focus. The central systems have cooled. We may proceed."
Then, his Hexclaw releases you, reaches behind him, and hands you a wrench.
"I will pull the sternum platings open, beneath the oxygen valves. Reach inside, and secure the pistons that sit above the energy reservoir. Is this understandable?"
Back to work already, it seems. "Yeah," You nod. "I've got it."
It's a relatively simple fix. Viktor reaches deep into his circuitry, pushing wires aside to pull both platings apart; surely this would have been cumbersome, if he'd opted to do it alone. Both sections of his sternum need to be held open, or they'll try to snap shut. Your hands are much smaller than his, as well, so you have no trouble reaching into his structure, and swiftly re-tightening the pistons.
Viktor closes the panels as you're reaching behind him to set the wrench on the desk. His Hexclaw twitches. His gauntlet and the generator fixed into his shoulder flicker with light, like a dying lightbulb, before energy surges within them, bright and molten.
You glance up. "Good?"
Viktor's body hums quietly, amidst his usual mechanical noise.
"Perfect. You are an expert already, yes? The Death Ray is no longer fueled by reserve power." Viktor rolls his neck to the side, until it gives a satisfying, motorized pop. "Now, as we continue, you will need to use your hands."
"Alright. I can do that."
"Use your flesh hand," Viktor corrects. "And promise me you will be careful. I would prefer to keep each of your remaining fingers intact. Do not get them stuck."
You form a faint, light-filled smile. "I promise."
"To your left, there is a diode controller. Here." Viktor finds your hand, steel digits brushing over your knuckles, and he guides you, once more. "Tell me which lights are displayed on the module."
Your hand presses to a small steel box, nestled into his chest. "There's a red light. I think that's the power, but… it looks like that's it."
"The explosion jostled its position, as I suspected. Inlaid into the underside, there will be a set of wires."
Sure enough, although several curving filaments obstruct the crooked controller, you can spot a few tangled wires, plugged in loosely.
You gently push a few of his mechanics aside, trying to get a handle on what you're dealing with. "You're planning on doing a full cold boot, right? So pull them all out, wait for the controller to restart, and then plug them back in."
What Viktor lacks in expression, he makes up for in vibrato, because you can practically hear the smile hidden within his voice. Equally calm and weaponized; as soft as a caress, and as powerful as a knife held to your throat.
"Yes," He hums, mechanical filter thrumming around the thickly accented syllables. "Look at you. It is impressive- how efficiently you learn."
You aren't trying to prove him wrong, but what's truly impressive is how easily he knocks the focus right out of you. You're grasping at what remains of it, as you stretch to guide your hand to the wires. With the controller pinning them between itself and his metal skeleton, it's a relatively tight fit.
Breath in your throat, you manage to find the first wire — and you blindly tug. As it comes free, Viktor's chest tenses, gears grinding, valves sputtering. He grabs your forearm, holding you still. Shaky mechanical fingers attempting to establish control.
"Gentle," Viktor instructs. His body hisses, expelling warm air that fans over your skin. "The wires- they direct essential currents of power. If you are not careful, you will overload the voltage."
He releases you gradually, then leans back fully.
"Sorry. I'll go slow."
You grasp the next wire at the head. Instead of pulling, you shift it back and forth, over and over, until it eventually comes free. With each discharged wire, his mechanics grow hotter, louder. Warmth radiates over your palm as the controller chugs, giving off a faint, high-pitched noise. It reminds you of the whistles of trains in Piltover.
"Better?" You murmur, heavy gaze drifting across him, hand already blindly grasping for the fourth wire.
"Yes," Viktor coos, content. "Keep going."
"Does this- am I hurting you?"
"No, you are not." His tone grits at the edges, buzzing rigidly through his throat. "The controller is applying a simulated curve. It is… an excess of pressurized fuel. A maelstrom of diverging currents. It is impossible to summarize in sympathizable terms, as your body is very different from mine."
The Machine Herald tends to select words purposefully. He calculates discussions and formulates terms like every negotiation is a game of chess — and yet, this description is remarkably familiar.
In the early stages of your alliance, the two of you rarely got along. Every sentence between you spun a web of new arguments. Viktor was insistent when it came to his vision, and weakness wasn't welcome, not within his new mechanized heart. You were a distraction. An unexpected miscalculation. A maelstrom, as Viktor described it.
For our mutual benefit, you should relinquish the memories you have of the man I once was. We are no longer partners. If you can suppress this needless bickering, we can continue as allies, perhaps.
"I'm depriving you of energy." You trail your fingertip over the ridges in the final wire. "Your systems are working overtime, to try and adjust."
Viktor's body relaxes — warm and reverberant and trusting. He affirms, "Precisely."
The last wire comes free smoothly. You take a languid, intentionally-long breath, giving the controller time to refresh. The wires have fallen loose, they rest a little further down in his circuitry. Leaning far forward in your stool, you bundle all of them in your palm, to make sure you won't lose them.
"They're out." You line up the first wire's plug with the controller's first socket. "Gonna plug them back in now."
"Firmer, you can be firmer." Viktor never begs, but this, despite bordering on a command, is the closest to pleading you've seen him come to. "The central system is acclimated to the fluctuations in energy."
Your cracked bottom lip briefly catches between your teeth. Bringing the wire right against its socket, you shove it back in — and Viktor tremors, visible electricity sparkling from his chest like shooting stars in a lightning storm. With the second wire, his head rolls back. When you press the third in, he breathes a low, barely-audible groan, and the sound drives into you like a saw, a chisel, a stake.
(You're lost in color, in the orange glow of his gaze and the coppery-steel of his body, as they paint stupidly vivid pictures in your mind. Viktor reaching for you, holding onto you for leverage. Static blooming at your fingertips, innocent experiments turning into purposeful coaxings. Stalling until he pleads, overwhelming him with surge after surge of energy, electromagnetic impulses and solar sparks that have him hot and only half-functional.)
You really need to focus.
"Okay." As you push the last wire in, the module's lights begin to flash, blinking faintly in a bright hue of amber. "I'm done."
"Reach your hand further inside," Viktor is already explaining, words rich, perplexingly breathy. "You must guide it around the gears, to the back of the module. Beside the sets of copper filaments, you will find a red wire."
You tilt your head down to peer behind the controller.
"Fuck." You breathe a slight tch. "It must've come loose. It's all the way back there, Vik."
"You may need to come closer, then."
For a moment, you chew on the inside of your cheek. Palm buried inside him — you should be the one in control, but Viktor relaxes; his head tips, and he gazes at you as though he's got you under a microscope. Perfectly, wholly deciphered. Your weakness is predictable, not simply because you are human, but because it is you. There's no surprise within him when you rise from your stool, only an addictive array of certainty.
Viktor leans back a bit more, spreads his legs to allocate space. And you straddle his thigh, heels rested on the spidery base of the stool.
The hard, uneven edges of his armor dig into the pliable flesh of your legs. One large thigh is easily enough to accommodate you, but you need to shift closer, to properly reach behind the controller.
You're reaching in, in, feeling around for your target. An unsteady steel hand braces to your side; Viktor holds you in place. You sigh in frustration, your fingertips fumbling past cold filaments, trying to find the smooth, elusive wire.
Gears gently press into your forearm. A small, rigid generator bumps your elbow. Your body curls, you reach further inside him. And you find it, just as you're close enough to rest your forehead against his. Metal to flesh. Cool against warm. Your eyes — bright and fascinating, like stars, he thinks — become lost in the artificial glow of his.
Your breath fans over his steel mask. "Got it."
"Good." Viktor's voice is low, intense, and fucking sultry. "Plug it in."
hey, sorry for interrupting the fic! unfortunately, due to the long word count of the fic and tumblr's post block limit, it's impossible to fit the entire fic into one post... :( if you're enjoying the fic so far, you can continue reading on ao3!
thank you for understanding... <3
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