#mcu talokan

[hydravns]

NAMOR, KING OF TALOKAN

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

[mariaxxxxx]

Someday, I'II be someone´s love.

Summary: Ignored by her own family, M’Baku’s third daughter never expected to be seen — until K’uk’ulkan’s eyes found her. Through secret meetings and intense emotions, she discovers what it means to be desired. But when love and politics collide, she must choose: follow her heart or protect the throne.

Warnings: Mention of sex, kissing, political threat, irresistible fishman, emotional manipulation, no happy ending here, shuri being a good friend, merman being an asshole

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

Work count: 12.050

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

It was as a teenager, just before you turned fourteen, that you finally realized how invisible you were to your family. At a dinner with the tribal leaders, the realization came like a cold blade through your chest. While everyone laughed and toasted, you just watched—quietly, on the sidelines, like a figure no one noticed. Your father, M’Baku, beamed with pride as he took his first daughter, Isis, by the shoulders, shaking her enthusiastically and showing her off as if she were his own achievement. Then he would turn to Makeda , his second daughter, and clasp her hands firmly, exclaiming proudly about her hunting skills. His eyes would shine, his voice would brim with excitement.

And then there was Baako . His mother led him from one place to the other, her hands firm on his shoulders, smiling broadly, as if she were carrying the future between her fingers. “Our heir,” she would say, with the certainty of someone who already saw in him the next leader. And you… You were there, silently, sitting at the head of the table, like a shadow that no one bothered to dispel. No one touched you. No one praised you. No one looked at you. Not a word was spoken in your direction that night. It was as if you existed only to fill a space—not a space of presence, but of absence. And it was there, at that festive dinner, that the truth fell upon you with all the weight of a cruel realization: within your own family, you were a forgotten presence, a silence among celebrated voices.

Three girls, and finally, their little boy. As you sipped juice and cracked open peanuts, your mind flashed to the growing despair your parents felt whenever a penisless child came along. There was the first, Isis, not a boy, but sweet and healthy. After all, girls were good. Isis was given a strong name with a fancy spelling and a box full of jewels. They crossed their fingers and tried again, but got Makeda instead. Then they got nervous—your mother in particular, and the welcome was good but less triumphant. When your mother got pregnant again, your father made a spear with his own hands, dressed her in silk and jewels. The disappointment that you had arrived did not go unnoticed. You were named after someone in the family—not a goddess, not a legendary queen, not an anagram of your own father’s name. It was just a name. Without even a middle name to go by.

Thank the gods for Baako . A year after you. A year after the disappointing you. Baako was given a strong name, pampered and spoiled, and the little girls suddenly realized how irrelevant they were. Especially you. No one needs a third girl. Your brothers surrounded themselves with extraordinary talents; Isis was a great scholar, Makeda was an excellent hunter, and you were just you, a little being lost in your own loneliness. It was easy to grow up in the shadow of one brother, but three was torturous. In the years that followed, you realized that somehow he could smell the desperation exuding from your skin. A third little girl. Not the smartest, not the prettiest, not the most interesting. Just the third little girl. But he gave you some attention and that was enough to send you over the edge into a pit of suffering.

(...)

You drink your second bourbon, relax your shoulders, pat your face, enter the great hall and wish for a third drink to endure all the chatter of the great council. In the last three years things in Wakando have been confusing; the death of the young king, a fishman, the death of the Queen Mother until the ascension of your father as interim king until the black panther was willing to take his rightful place as leader of the golden tribe. It was still confusing, even uncomfortable, the Jabari tribe on the throne - albeit for a short time. The elders were selfish, your father was a troglodyte and the damn fishman was always omnipresent with more and more demands that were met in order to keep the peace.

“Have you been drinking?” Aneka pointed out with a disapproving look.

“For the love of the gods! I need to be drunk or high to handle all the chatter.” You sigh and stand next to her.

“Young people.” She spits. “If your father smells it, he’ll get his attention.”

You let out a pout.

“Is it that bad?”

“Girl! You look like a truck ran you over.”

"Shit."

“Go! Take a shower and make yourself presentable. Show up when you look like a grown, responsible woman, not a young woman who spent the night drinking.”

You decided not to argue. Your legs carried you quickly to the royal family's dormitory wing. You entered your room, going straight to the bathroom. When you took off all your clothes and stood in front of the large bathroom mirror, you realized what Aneka was talking about. Your hair was dry and frizzy , your eyes were droopy and your breath smelled of alcohol. You sighed. It wasn't a good idea to party all night and it wasn't a good idea to drink before the meeting.

You took a quick but thorough shower. You filled yourself up after getting out of the shower. Your hair had been washed and finished with a shea butter-based cream . You wore a green halter dress, accompanied by gold necklaces and bracelets. You brushed your teeth to get the smell of alcohol out of your mouth. When you were finally ready, you turned on your axis, observing your appearance in the mirror. When you were satisfied, you went back to the great hall. Luckily, only your father was there accompanied by a wall of Dora Milaje . Something was wrong.

“Baba, what’s going on?”

“The fish-man.”

Nothing more was said after that. These words rang with terror on the lips of his country. After three years, the wounds he had caused were still bleeding.

“Stay by my side,” his father said. “Your mother is in Jabari , your sisters have families, and Baako is studying. All that’s left is you.”

Maybe it wasn't his intention, but those words hurt you in an absurd way. It took little, very little, for that little voice in the back of your mind to echo those damn words in your ears. No one needs a third girl, no one needs a third girl, no one needs a third girl. You weren't the only option, you were the one who had it.

“Of course.” You smiled and stood beside him. Standing tall, confident like a good third girl should be.

You saw him first—or perhaps he allowed himself to be seen. A man, if that was the word to describe him, entered through the great doors as if he were passing through a veil between worlds. The light curved around him, highlighting every feature sculpted by divine hands. In his right hand, a spear, long and elegant, that seemed to have been forged in the dreams of the gods. His beauty was ethereal, as if he belonged neither to this time nor to this world. His face, with its fine yet imposing features, seemed carved from living marble—but warmer, more real, more impossible. His ears, slightly pointed, revealed something beyond the human, perhaps elven, perhaps celestial. His eyebrows, too arched for coincidence, gave him an air of constant wonder or judgment, no one could be sure which. He wore a rupil —a noble garment of ancient cut—hand-embroidered with mastery impossible to reproduce. The fabric danced in gold, jade, and lapis lazuli, as if the elements themselves had decided to inhabit the garment. It was more than just being well-dressed: he seemed to be dressing an entire empire.

Beside him, two blue-skinned guards marched in silence. They too were dressed in luxurious clothing, embroidered with ancient symbols and precious metals. They were imposing figures in their own right—warriors from distant kingdoms—but even so, they seemed like shadows before the brilliance that emanated from this man. They were there, but it was easy to forget them. His walk was a statement. His steps were firm, silent, each movement wrapped in an unshakable confidence, as if the ground belonged to him. He exuded a magnetic masculinity that did not require brute force or words—his presence was enough. A subtle perfume, perhaps made of myrrh and storm, accompanied him, carrying the promise of something beautiful and dangerous at the same time. And when he passed through the doors, the world fell silent. Not out of fear. But out of reverence.

His father stood up with the care of someone carrying a dynasty on his shoulders. The room, already silent because of the visitor’s presence, seemed to hold its breath. His footsteps echoed across the ancient marble floor, each one sounding like an unspoken word. When he stood before his guest, there was nobility in his posture—but also an almost imperceptible stiffness, as if a thread of tension ran through his spine.

He extended his arm. The gesture was ancient and loaded with meaning: a greeting between equals, between leaders—each grasping the other’s forearm, not as lords but as warriors recognizing each other’s strength.

"Welcome to our home, stranger from the drowned cities. May the currents have been kind to your passage," his father said, his voice firm but cracking at the edges—a courtesy that tried not to bend to the uneasiness that coursed through his chest.

The visitor—that being of incomparable presence—gave a slight smile, almost imperceptible, but enough to make the atmosphere denser. He raised his arm and returned the gesture with restrained strength. His eyes, which seemed to reflect the light like the bottom of a stormy sea, were attentive, dangerously calm.

"My currents are seldom gentle....but water learns to fear what it cannot drown."

His voice was like thunder swallowed by the ocean—steady, deep, made of salt and depths. There was a marked accent there, which dragged certain syllables with hypnotic slowness, as if the words were swimming to the surface to be heard. It was the voice of someone born where the light never fully reaches.

There was a pause. A moment where the air hung heavy. His father took a step back, and then spoke, struggling to maintain his composure:

"The Elders... did not arrive in time to receive you. I regret their absence."

The visitor raised an eyebrow in a manner so precise it seemed choreographed.

"Ah... naturally. Those who live too long sometimes forget how to arrive punctually at their own importance."

The irony dripped from his voice like a thread of sweet poison. It was subtle. Delicate. But sharp as glass under silk. You laughed. Low. A light, honest, involuntary sound. Almost shy. And then he saw you. His face turned slowly, as if the moment demanded reverence. His eyes followed you, plunging through the crowd and finding you . Not the rest. Not the others. You . And in that instant, as if the entire room ceased to exist, you felt seen. Unnoticed. Not observed with the casualness of empty gazes. Seen. As if until that moment your existence had been a reflection — and now, for the first time, someone saw you in your entirety. Without haste, without shame. As if every layer of your soul was transparent to that man’s eyes. A look that didn’t ask for permission — it just happened, like the tide that comes, inevitable, to take everything it touches. And there, under that gaze, You truly existed .

The moment felt eternal. His gaze on you wasn’t just a touch—it was a dip. A silent call. And for an instant, a single, precious instant, the world had stopped. Sound had dissolved, movement around him had become a distant blur. There was only that look. There was only him. And you. As if all the old stories, all the omens, and all the unspoken desires had gathered there, in the space between your eyes and his.

But then the spell was broken. The sharp sound of the hall doors opening reverberated like a stone thrown into a still lake. The Council members had finally arrived—wrapped in heavy robes, adorned with silver-embroidered insignia, their expressions thick with urgency and pretense. The magic melted away like mist in the sunlight.

You looked away, even without wanting to, feeling a deep, almost childish regret, like someone waking up from a good dream before the end. His gaze also looked away, with a slight delay, as if he himself had hesitated to leave that invisible line that had formed between you.

His father turned to the newcomers with his usual dignity, his voice regaining its ceremonial strength:

"Welcome, counselors. May time still allow you to fulfill your part in this reception."

Some of the Council nodded silently, others murmured hurried greetings. The chairs around the hall were filled one by one—the elders settling in with the weariness of centuries on their shoulders, the younger ones shifting with veiled uneasiness.

The guest, in turn, was led to a prominent chair just to the left of the king's throne—a place of honor reserved only for those who carried enough power or threat to deserve it. He sat as elegantly as he had entered, his posture straight, his robe falling around his body like waves lapping around an ancient rock.

Beside him, the two blue-skinned guards stood firm, like living statues. Their robes were ceremonial too—deep-sea ornaments, black silver threads, opaline stones set into their shoulders and chest. But magnificent as they were, their beauty was but a pale echo of their lord’s presence. Now, everyone was in their places. The hall was returning to order. The formalities would continue. The right words would be spoken. The rituals performed. But in You, something had changed. Even with the moment interrupted, broken by the obligations of the world, his gaze still echoed on your skin. And the certainty was silent but undeniable: He had felt it too.

(...)

The days that followed were like pages swept by the wind—too fast to read calmly, too heavy to ignore. The presence of the guest—or rather, the fish-man, as you had come to call him in your thoughts—had left a trail of unrest in Wakanda . Politics stirred in silence, advisors whispered among themselves, and the king, your father, became increasingly withdrawn. And in the middle of it all, there was you.

As acting princess, your responsibilities had multiplied. You accompanied your father to audiences with tribal leaders, reviewed reports on borders and technology, and held diplomatic talks with neighbors with fragile alliances. It was work that filled your body but did not calm your mind. And it did not banish the memory of him—that look that had stripped you of all invisibility. The fish-man’s visit had been brief. He had left as suddenly as he had arrived, with no explanation, no goodbyes. But he had left something behind. An echo. An absence that hurt more than it should.

Then on the fourth day, You escaped.

You walked alone, with the excuse of seeking peace, to the shore of the great salt river—one of those rare encounters between sea and land within the territory of Wakanda . The sky was wide, clear, painted in shades of gold and lilac. The sun stretched lazily over the water, making it shine like liquid silver. The breeze carried the smell of salt and warm sand. You took off your sandals, felt the fine grains under your feet, and walked to where the tide gently lapped the shore. You sat down, bending your knees slowly, and sighed, as if releasing the weight of an entire kingdom from your lungs.

The silence was beautiful. Wakanda was always beautiful at dusk. But even in this golden paradise, her thoughts kept returning to him—not as a burden, but as a mystery that still vibrated under her skin. Then something broke the silence.

A sound.

First, a liquid rustle, followed by a sharp hiss—like the sound of a snake waking. You bolted upright, your heart pounding. The snakes on the salt bank could be tricky and fast. Your eyes scanned the surroundings with alertness.

But what you saw made her freeze.

The water churned violently, and a second later, he emerged.

The fish-man emerged from the depths like a god come to reclaim the land. His wings—now fully regenerated—spread out behind him imposingly, spraying golden droplets all around him, each beat resounding like distant thunder. They were long, strong, translucent at the edges like celestial membranes. He landed with absolute precision, just a few steps away from You , his silhouette silhouetted against the blazing sky of late afternoon.

And there he was. Again. Too close. Too beautiful.

You remained seated, incredulous, without reaction — as if the air had been ripped from your lungs. He looked at you — with that same look that pierced through her — and said:

"I hope I didn't scare you ... but I like to arrive unannounced. The most real moments happen when the world is still unarmed."

His voice was the same. Steady, drawn out at points, made of tide and secret. And you found it charming. He held out his hand to you, his fingers long and steady.

Only then did you notice what he was wearing: dark green shorts, made of wet fabric that clung to his muscular body, revealing shapes sculpted by currents. Around his neck, large chains of ancient gold rested on his chest, heavy, as if each link told the story of a drowned king. You hesitated—for a second. Then, with his hand wrapped around yours, you stood up. And the sensation was like coming back to the surface after a long time submerged.

You could still feel his hand on yours, even after you were standing up. The wet sand stuck to the hem of your dress and the wind gently tugged at your hair, but nothing—absolutely nothing—caught your attention more than him. The fish-man. The one who emerged from the water like a prophecy.

He released her gently, but his eyes remained on her, steady, intense.

"Sorry to arrive like this, unannounced," he said, his voice deep and rolling like a tide that refuses to recede. "But I figured you'd prefer... something more real. Less gold, less protocol."

You took a step back just to breathe better — not out of fear, but out of a need for space between your body and your will.

"It's all right," he said, with a smile that seemed to come more from his eyes than his lips. "I just wonder where your guards are. You may be many things, but you are still a king. Walking alone... it's dangerous."

He laughed. And the sound made the sky seem lighter, as if even the clouds were leaning forward a little to hear better.

"My people do not call me king," he said, with quiet pride. "They call me K'uk'ulkan ."

The name flowed like an ancient legend, carrying the weight of something sacred.

"And my enemies," he added, the smile returning to the corner of his lips, "call me Namor."

You laughed too, a light laugh, surprised by his sincerity, by the way he pronounced his own titles as if he didn't take them that seriously.

"So you tell me the name they gave you as a god…" — You tilted your head slightly, curious — "…and the name your enemies whisper in fear. But you still haven't told me the most important thing."

He arched one of his perfect eyebrows in amusement.

"And what would that be?"

"The name your mother gave you."

There was a second of silence between them. But it wasn’t uncomfortable—it was full of something. Like time was holding its breath, just for fun. Then K’uk’ulkan laughed. A louder sound this time, more confident. Almost excited, like You had passed some kind of invisible test.

"That name…" he said, with a gleam in his eyes that seemed to come from another world "…you'll still have to earn that."

You couldn't answer. Not right away.

Because that smile—that damn smile—was warm and disarming and dangerous. Not like a weapon. But like a secret you wanted so badly to know. And there, in front of him, in front of that sea-raging, challenging gleam in his eyes, you felt something inside you melt. As if everything solid had begun to slip, slowly and inevitably, toward him . And yet… You smiled back. Because maybe… just maybe… you were willing to deserve it.

The wind carried the smell of salt and ancient times. The waves of the salty river whispered against the shore like a song too old to remember—or perhaps just forgotten on purpose. You still looked at him with a certain disbelief, unable to decide whether what you felt was relief, joy, or a slight panic at being there, face to face with him, again. Alone. Without protocol. Without witnesses.

“You’re brave to walk around like this, alone,” she said, with a slight, half-skeptical smile. “Even kings need protection. Even more so wandering around in a foreign nation that recently fought a war.”

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze still twinkling with some inside joke only he knew.

“Curious,” he said, with that accent that made the words slower, denser, as if each one came from the bottom of the sea. “I thought the same of you.”

you stared at him, confused.

"Like this?"

K'uk'ulkan turned his face toward the river, as if responding also to the waters that had brought him.

“An acting princess... wandering alone on the edge of a salty river, where dangerous creatures swim beneath the surface. Hungry, ancient... impatient beasts.”

He turned his eyes to her, and there was something there—not threat, but intensity. A game. A warning. A serious joke.

You laughed, surprised at the audacity.

“Are you comparing yourself to one of those beasts, is that it?”

He smiled, slowly, as if savoring the moment.

“I’m not comparing myself. I’m recognizing myself.”

You didn’t answer right away. His boldness was absurd. And yet, the way he said things—without apologizing, without diminishing himself—made some part of you vibrate. As if for once, someone didn’t expect her to be small.

“Well, you should know that this princess knows how to defend herself,” he finally replied, his voice firm, although his heart was beating faster.

“I don’t doubt that,” he said, leaning in slightly. “But knowing how to defend yourself… doesn’t mean you need to always be on guard.”

you stopped. She looked at him with her eyes wider than she intended. For a moment, there was no more teasing. Only truth.

“Perhaps,” she said, more to herself than to him.

He stepped back slightly, leaving space for air to return between the two of them, and then nodded toward the shore.

“Shall we sit down?”

You nodded.

They sat side by side, as if it were natural. As if they had always done so. Their legs stretched out on the sand, their shoulders almost touching. The conversation came like the waves: calm, constant. They talked about their very different childhoods—he, in the depths; she, under the constant shadow of her brothers. She told him about the times she pretended to sleep to get out of class. He told her about the first time he fought a shark with his bare hands—he was twelve, which left him with a scar from the curve of his shoulder to his armpits. They laughed a lot. They fell silent, sometimes, just to watch the sky turn purple, then dark blue, then starry.

When the night was deep and the air cold, K'uk'ulkan rose first and held out his hand to her. There was an unexpected gentleness in the gesture, as if for a moment he had ceased to be king, god, or warrior—and was simply a man.

“Let me take you to the palace gates. Just today,” he said. “After all, it’s dangerous to walk alone… among beasts.”

You smiled, accepting his hand.

“What if I’m getting used to these beasts?”

“Then maybe you are more dangerous than they are.”

They walked side by side until the lights of the palace began to appear between the dark columns. There he stopped, his gaze calm.

“Good evening, princess,” he said, with a smile that still held secrets.

You gave a slight nod and turned, heading towards the stairs.

And as her feet touched the warm marble of the entryway, one thought took over: For the first time—even if only for a day, even with so few words—you felt unique. Not like a third daughter. Not like a disappointment. But like someone who had been seen…and remembered. Not like the third daughter no one needed. But like someone who, finally, deserved a name whispered just for you.

The next few days unfolded like a golden thread pulled from an enchanted ball—one after the other, smooth, shining, irreversibly connected to a single name: K'uk'ulkan .

Their first meeting on the banks of the salty river now seemed like an ancient and sacred memory, like a silent milestone in time. They began to meet once a week. He would emerge from the water with the sunset behind him, and you would wait for him, sitting on the same curve of sand, as if it were destiny. But time — as always happens with what one desires — began to press its own pace. Once a week became twice. Then three.

Until it became a daily habit. A secret between the tide and the memory. You knew how extraordinary it was. He swam long distances, cutting through the waters of the world just to see you for a few hours, maybe less. And yet, he always arrived as if he had all the time in the universe saved just for You .

He was magnificent. Not just because of his strength, his wings, or the stories he told in the voice of someone who had known the abysses. But because of the way he looked at You —as if You were the only surface worth emerging from to see. And You, who had spent your life trying not to be a burden, a shadow, a displaced piece, now felt alive. Important. Valid. Unique .

He called her "princess" in a slow, almost reverent accent. And every time he said it, You lost it a little.

"Princess," he murmured one afternoon, as they sat side by side, their fingers almost touching. "Tell me... what about the black panther? The scientist. Shuri ."

You blinked, taken away by that name.

" Shuri ..." you repeated softly. The name brought with it the scent of memories, the taste of hidden silences. "She's been in Haiti for a while... after everything. She stayed with Nakia , King T'Challa 's widow . She needed... peace. Silence, maybe. She lost everything."

Your voice cracked a little on the last sentence. And then there was silence. A silence that was no longer comfortable. Because suddenly, You remembered. It was him. K'uk'ulkan . He was He was the one who killed the Queen Mother. Ramonda. You fell silent, swallowing hard. The air seemed thicker around you, as if even the wind had sensed the mistake. But K'uk'ulkan remained serene. His eyes were watery in the evening light, but calm. Steady.

"It's okay," he said, his voice low. "You don't have to apologize for how you feel."

You looked at him, surprised.

"I… shouldn't have said that. Not like that. I just—"

He held up a hand, gently interrupting.

"I feel no regret for what I did," he said, without looking away. "But I understand the pain it caused. Just as I felt my own pain… when one of my own was killed at the hands of your king's widow."

Nakia . You remembered.

"It was a war. Painful, quick. But it was."

"It was," he confirmed. "And wars leave scars that cannot be seen ... but that throb when the right name is said."

You took a deep breath. You looked at him. And even with the shadow of the past hanging between you, you felt something strange—a kind of mutual respect born of honesty. There were no masks there. Just pain acknowledging pain.

K'uk'ulkan turned his face back to the water.

"Still... I come back. Every day. To see you. To talk to you. Because through all the pain I've touched... there's something about you that doesn't hurt. Something that reminds me there's more than war."

You felt your heart tighten. He wasn't just a beast of the sea. He was a man who, like her, carried the weight of an entire world. But there, on the edge of that river, neither of them needed to carry anything. There, they could just exist. Together. And even with the memory of the pain, you felt that something new, stronger, was being born. Something that not even the deepest waters could drown.

(...)

The day had started like so many others: paperwork, meetings, obligations. You walked through the palace corridors with precise steps, wearing the royal attire that gave you authority, but also the weight of expectations that grew with each new moon cycle. You were the acting princess of Wakanda , representing your people alongside your father, while Shuri still remained away from politics.

But this morning, something in the air was different. There was tension in the guards’ eyes, an unusual murmur among the palace messengers. And it wasn’t until you climbed the steps to the smaller private throne room that you understood why. The former General of the Dora Milaje , Okoye , was there. Standing with her straight posture, adorned in ceremonial robes but without her traditional armor. She had been called to something greater—something that involved more than just fighting.

You entered the hall silently, only exchanging a glance with your father, the king. The meeting was private, restricted. You sat next to him, your posture straight and your ears attentive. There was something in the air, and your instinct told you that the world was about to change once again.

Okoye began , her voice firm, "there is something that needs to be said. And it should only be said here, between us."

The king nodded. "Speak, sister. You have our trust."

Okoye took a deep breath. Her eyes flicked to You momentarily , assessing. But she continued.

"Before his death, King T'Challa ... married Nakia . In secret. A simple union, sealed by both their hearts and the silent blessing of the Queen Mother."

The hall fell silent.

Okoye continued:

"And from this union a boy was born. An heir of royal blood. After the death of the king and queen, Nakia and Shuri decided to raise him away from everything — away from the burden, away from politics, away from danger. He grew up in peace, but with teachings, with honor, with history. I also... helped protect him."

You felt your heart tighten in your chest.

A boy . An heir. The son of T' Challa .

The king leaned forward, his eyes darkening with the gravity of the revelation.

"And where is it now?"

"He is in the care of Shuri and Nakia . Groomed discreetly but firmly. When he comes of age... it will be time."

You's father remained silent for long seconds. Then, he nodded slowly.

T'Challa 's legacy . He will live on. He will return. When the time is right."

You took a deep breath and respectfully intervened:

"The ritual of combat must be done. When he is ready. Wakanda must accept it body and soul."

The king looked at her, and for the first time in a long time, you saw something different in his eyes: pride.

"Yes. He will fight. He will not inherit by blood alone, but by merit."

Okoye stepped a little closer, clasping her hands behind her back.

"But until then, none of this must leave this hall. Not a word, not a gesture. The boy must grow up without the chains of expectation. The Council is not ready. Wakanda is not ready."

"I agree," the king said firmly. "This secret dies here. Between the four of us."

You nodded, feeling the weight and privilege of that sacred moment. A new king was being shaped in the shadows. And You ... You now carried that secret in your chest like a living flame. And even with your heart still divided by a name that came from the waters, you knew that it changed everything. Because the past would return. And Wakanda – and you – would need to be ready.

Wakandan sky was a deep orange as You quietly left the palace grounds. The day had been long, shrouded in heavy silences and promises that could not yet be revealed. The secret of the heir to the throne burned in her chest like something too precious to share—and too dangerous to carry alone.

But there was a place, a presence, that made that weight dissipate. Him. The path to the edge of the salty river was now known as the path to yourself. It was there that you found yourself again. Where the world ceased. Where the future and the past fell silent, and the present gained color. And when the sound of the water began to fill the air, your heart leapt in your chest, the same way it always did—or maybe a little louder.

He was already there. K'uk'ulkan .

Emerging from the waters like a sweet omen, sitting with his feet still touching the tide, his dark hair wet and pushed back, his bare shoulders glistening with droplets of water and the heavy chain across his chest moving slightly with his breath. He looked at her as soon as he saw her, and smiled. One of those smiles that seemed created just for you.

Without saying a word, you walked over and sat down next to him, feeling the cool sand under your fingers and his warmth so close to your body. Their routine had become intimate, natural—as if they had been doing this for years. The silence between them was comfortable, and even the small conversations had a taste of eternity.

“Has your day been rough?” he asked, his voice gently drawing out the syllables, as if he were pulling each word out carefully so as not to break it .

You sighed, smiling. “I don’t know what an easy day is anymore.”

He laughed, softly.

“But I still smile.”

“Because I’m here,” he replied, without thinking. And he only realized the truth after he had said it.

K'uk'ulkan turned to You . You were so close now. His eyes—the color of dark seas—delved into yours. For a moment, time seemed to hold its breath.

Then he leaned in. The kiss came slowly. Slow, romantic, full of an expectation that they had both carried for days—perhaps since their first glance. Their lips met like ancient promises being fulfilled. He touched you with one hand, strong, delicate fingers touching your jaw reverently, as if he feared you would disappear. You closed your eyes, surrendered. You tasted the water and the broken silence, the wait finally satisfied.

And when their lips parted, there was still a smile in his eyes. And something else—something deeper, rawer.

“You are… something I didn’t expect,” he said, his voice lower than the wind. “A princess. But not like the others. You weren’t born to be adored… you were born to be discovered.”

You felt the words shoot through your chest like heat.

“You are… stealing my heart. I, who know the depths… am losing myself in you.”

The air was filled with something that had no name. You felt his words like a spell. And inside you, something grew. The feeling of being unique. As if the universe had finally stopped looking at everyone else… and was seeing you. There, sitting on the sand, covered in stars and touched by a man who had come from the sea to see you… You were not the third daughter. You were no one’s shadow. You were the chosen one. The only one. His own. His.

And for a moment—a sacred instant—you felt what might have been love. Or something even older. Stronger. Something not even the gods dared to name.

The taste of his kiss still lingered on her lips —sweet and salty like the very water that had brought him there. Her body felt light, almost floating, as if she had become part of this moment, part of the sky, part of him. His words still echoed in her chest like a warm whisper: “You are... stealing my heart.”

But then, as if the tide had suddenly turned, he pulled away . Not abruptly, not coldly—but with the subtle care of someone catching a promise before it’s broken. He looked away for a moment, as if he felt the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders again.

“And... Wakanda ?” he asked, his voice less soft now, more firm. “Are they closing themselves off to the outside world again?”

The question fell like a stone into the water — direct, hard, creating waves where before there had been calm.

You blinked, your heart still tight from the kiss, and now... a little tight for another reason. Disappointment.

Not because the question was wrong—but because, for a moment, You had forgotten the world. You had believed that it had forgotten, too. And now here he was, returning to the role of leader, of warrior, of strategist. And the moment—that instant of eternity between the two of them—was slipping away, slipping away like foam between your fingers.

Still, you took a deep breath, gently fixed your hair and responded with the calm you had learned from your father.

“Yes. Little by little, we are retreating. My father decided to cut ties with North America. Negotiations with them... led nowhere.”

He just nodded, listening silently.

“The sharing of vibranium was ended before it even began,” You continued, looking at the water as if searching for an explanation that made sense. “Too many promises, too little action. Too little respect.”

K'uk'ulkan kept his gaze fixed on the horizon, his hands resting on the sand. Far away.

You finished, in a lighter tone, trying to maintain what was left of the intimacy: “But... the institutions that the former king created, those still exist. Shuri , and Nakia , the king's widow, take care of them. They are what is left of his will to open Wakanda ... with wisdom.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the river, calm, dragging the edges of the night. You looked at him, trying to find the man from the kiss, the one who called you princess with reverence, not the king who measured worlds with his gaze.

But he was still there. Even with his mind far away, even with his body slightly removed—he was still there. And You wanted him whole. Even if it was in fragments. Then, in silence, you approached again. Not to recapture the moment. But to show that, even in the face of difficult questions, You were still there. Present. Constant. Yours. And with that, even if the conversation changed, the feeling didn't change. Because what was born between the two... was deeper than any current.

(...)

The months passed like leaves carried by the wind - silent, light, but full of life. You and K'uk'ulkan became inseparable in the shadows of time. What began as encounters by the salty river soon transformed into something deeper, denser... more irreversible .

He kept rising from the waters like an ancient god, but it was in the small gestures, the gentle touches, the words spoken between sighs, that he became a man. A man who was hers—even if the whole world said otherwise. And then there was night.

The first night you didn’t say goodbye when the moon reached its zenith. On the riverbank, under the stars that seemed to shine only for you, he enveloped you with surprising tenderness. Each kiss, each caress, was offered like a promise sealed in silence. You experienced a new kind of surrender there—not just physical, but of the soul. He made you touch the sublime, a pleasure that was more than flesh; it was belonging, it was freedom.

That night, K'uk'ulkan was not king, nor god, nor warrior. He was only his . And you were only his .

After that, the nights shared became frequent. A hiding place outside of time. The world outside followed its rhythm of politics, kingdoms and strategies — but on the riverbank, the two created their own universe, made of damp sand, slow kisses and looks that spoke more than any language.

Still... something started to change.

The questions. Small at first, said with the carefree tone of someone who just wants to know.

“Does your father still refuse to speak to the Global Council?”

“ Does Shuri still run institutions outside of Wakanda ?”

“Are there any new names in the inner circle of the throne?”

You tried to ignore it, tried to push away the discomfort like someone shooing away a nocturnal mosquito. Because he still made you feel unique. He still called you “princess” as if it were a sacred word. He still looked at you as if the whole world was focused on the brightness in your eyes. So, you smiled. Pretending you didn’t notice. That you weren’t hurt.

That particular night, they had made love as if the world were about to end. Bodies intertwined, breaths mingling. He had worshipped her with an intensity that felt like rage and devotion at the same time. Afterward, as they lay on the sand, panting, his head resting on her stomach, his fingers drawing lazy circles on her skin, he had spoken:

“I have heard rumors... whispers carried by the tides. They say Wakanda is preparing an heir. A young man hidden from the world.”

You, still wrapped in the sweet haze of pleasure, responded before you could weigh your words.

“It’s true...” he said, almost in a whisper. “He’s T’Challa ’s son ... with Nakia . He’s being raised by Shuri and Okoye . They hope he grows up... so that one day he can wear the mantle of king.”

The silence that followed did not seem strange to You at that moment. You were too enchanted, too surrendered. You did not notice your mistake. Nor did you see the subtle stiffness that passed through K'uk'ulkan 's body . Nor the way he looked away, just for a second—as if contemplating something far away.

He said nothing. He just kissed your hand softly. And you smiled, foolish with love, believing that you were just sharing secrets with someone who made you feel alive. But in the dark waters of the salty river... something was beginning to stir. And in the depths of a god's heart, where love and ambition coexist like crosscurrents, a seed had been planted.

(...)

Tensions in Wakanda were running high. The rumor of T'Challa 's heir , his hidden son, had finally leaked out. The Council was filled with a frenzy of questions and demands. All the members, who had been comfortably immersed in the old ways, were now agitated, exasperated. You and your father found yourself at the center of a political storm that was growing by the minute.

The world of Wakanda was on the brink of collapse. The heir’s secret threatened not only the stability of the kingdom, but your very position within it. Your father, the king, was scowling, the expression you had come to fear—the one you had seen when he faced tough political opponents, but now turned to his own members of his court. And then Shuri arrived. Her unexpected arrival took everyone by surprise. She was undoubtedly the person best equipped to deal with the situation, but her words cut through the air with the coldness of logic, leaving no room for emotion. She came not just as a sister, but as a scientist and strategist. Her words carried undeniable weight, and the Council needed to hear them.

T'Challa 's son would remain a shadow until such time as he completed the ritual and was recognized as the new king. The path to the throne was now set, but fraught with obstacles. His heart, burdened by the responsibilities of his position, was heavier than ever. The conversation was long. The Council was divided, but a decision, albeit a delicate one, had been made.

Ayo 's entrance was quickly broken by Shuri , who rose from her chair with a warm smile and called her by name. You 's heart instantly warmed, the warmth you had always felt for T'Challa's sister now reflecting in a hug that felt like an anchor, an ancient connection that had never completely undone.

“Finally, a break from the chaos!” Shuri said , her smile lighting up the room. “It feels like it’s been forever since we last saw each other . And speaking of which, how are you?”

You smiled, feeling a mixture of relief and nostalgia. You were so used to living amidst so many commitments, so many obligations and expectations, that meeting Shuri made you realize how much you missed a genuine moment of simplicity.

"I... I've been busy," she replied, smiling with a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Politics, the Council... Everything's always happening at the same time."

"I know exactly what you mean," Shuri replied with an empathetic tone, understanding the burden of responsibility that her position carried. "But look, I'm glad we're finally together. I don't know when we'll have another chance to really talk."

You nodded, your eyes meeting Shuri 's with a sincerity you rarely felt with others. The words, as if wanting to escape your heart, flowed out.

"It's good to see you again. It's good... not having to be the acting princess, or the king's daughter, for a moment. Just... me, with you, like before."

Shuri smiled softly, a smile that told stories of memories shared between the two. There was something comforting about that smile, something that made you feel that despite all the changes around you, some things still remained the same.

"I miss that too," Shuri said wistfully. "Back in Haiti, when... when you left, I felt empty. Even with all the support from Nakia and Okoye , there was always something missing. Missing you . I didn't realize how much, until now."

You looked at her, your eyes softly fixed on hers. "I know what you mean. It seems like we're always so busy... we never have time to actually see each other."

Shuri laughed, shaking her head. "That's because the life of a princess and a warrior is full of... compromises, isn't it? But hey, we can't let ourselves forget who we really are."

You felt the truth of those words like a flame burning inside you. Something you had perhaps never realized, or perhaps never allowed yourself to realize: the need to be something beyond a title. Something beyond responsibility. Something deeper.

"What do you say we go for a walk? I really need some fresh air. And honestly, I miss the way things were when all we had to do was talk until nightfall."

Shuri gave a soft laugh. "I 'd love that. Come on. And this time, no meetings or councils, okay?"

"Deal," you replied , feeling a silent relief wash over you.

The two princesses left the room, walking together through the stone corridors of the palace. The cool afternoon air caressed their faces, and the conversation between them flowed with the lightness that only true friendship can provide. They talked about everything: about the days when You were in Haiti, about the challenges of the reign, about Wakanda and its uncertain destinies. And, for a moment, it was as if the weight of the world had disappeared, allowing both of them to reconnect with their younger selves, those who were not just princesses, but true friends.

It was then that the conversation took a different turn. Shuri , with a mischievous smile, began to talk about her days in Talokan , about the times when she was forced to interact with K'uk'ulkan , the fish-man.

"I told you about him, didn't I?" Shuri asked, her tone indicating she already knew the answer. "Namor... you know what he's like, right? A little crazy and... very powerful. He's got a charm. And, look, if I wasn't smart, I would have easily fallen for his charms."

You paused for a moment, feeling a weight settle on your chest. You already knew, but hearing Shuri talk about it made you feel something you couldn’t define. The way Shuri spoke of K’uk’ulkan , without any fear, without any hesitation, made K’uk’ulkan ’s words sound so distant. “He called me princess,” Shuri continued with a short laugh, as if the idea was more annoying than pleasant. “That was the worst, you know? He used that nickname for me. For everyone, really.”

Something in those words touched You . K'uk'ulkan , who had always called you princess, who had treated you as one of a kind... now seemed to be just repeating something he did with others. Like a routine. Something calculated. Shuri's smile faded for a moment when she noticed the change in expression on You 's face . The words hung heavy in the air, and she realized something wasn't right.

"Are... are you okay?" Shuri asked, her voice thick with concern but also a subtle awareness of the change in mood.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts, but the truth was there, forming in your mind like a cliff. “I… I’m just a little tired,” you answered, but the crack in your voice didn’t go unnoticed. “Sometimes, it’s hard to trust what seems too good to be true.”

Shuri didn't press the issue, but the concern in her eyes grew. "I understand. I just... hope you have someone you can trust."

"I have you," You said , with a forced but sincere smile. "I always have."

In the silence that followed, the weight of their conversation washed over them. As much as they were together, somewhere deep inside, you felt the growing distance between who she thought she was and who she really was to him. When the conversation was interrupted by Ayo ’s arrival , you felt the shock build inside her, as if a current of pain ran through her body. Something inside you began to break.

Alone, hours later, in your room, you wondered: Was everything he gave me, everything he made me feel, just a game? The truth was there, screaming to be heard, but you still couldn't accept it.

The conversation with Shuri had not been just an exchange of words. It was the final piece of the puzzle. And as she put the pieces together, she realized what she had feared: K'uk'ulkan did not see her as unique. She was just a piece in his game. She, once again, was not the chosen one, but a strategy .

The pain was immense. The old emptiness, the feeling of being left out, returned with a vengeance. She turned to the window, her view of the world outside now obscured by the tears she no longer wanted to hide.

“I’m not the only one,” You whispered into the silence of the night. “I never was.”

And that night, You cried.

The day went by at a frantic pace, as it always did when the Council was in session. You could feel a tension in the air, a weight that seemed to grow with every passing minute. The case of the hidden heir, the politics of Wakanda , the commitments and secrets hanging over your head, everything seemed to blend together in a tangle of conflicting feelings. Your mind was still absorbed in Shuri 's words , trying to process what she had said, when the Council was called for an urgent meeting.

The mood was heavy. The conversation was simmering, the Council members growing suspicious, questioning the rumors about T'Challa's lost heir , and the idea of a new king, a change that could affect Wakanda 's fate forever. But, amidst the discussions, something seemed to gnaw at you inside. The memory of Shuri 's words about K'uk'ulkan , the way he had spoken of her, the way it all sounded so... superficial, began to echo in your mind, intertwining with the words you had shared with K'uk'ulkan .

"Was I just a pawn in his game?"

Doubt formed like a shadow in your heart, and you knew you had to see Shuri . You had to understand everything that was going on in your head, if only it were possible to dispel the fog that now clouded your vision. When you finally met the princess, there was no need for formal words or gestures of courtesy. They were both there, in the same room, as they had always been: sisters in spirit, despite the distance and responsibilities. The exchange of glances was immediate, and, without hesitation, you approached Shuri .

“ Shuri , I need a moment,” you said, your voice thick with quiet anxiety.

Shuri looked at her carefully, noticing the lack of shine in her eyes . “ Are you okay? Did something happen?”

You hesitated, feeling the pain build in the words that were about to come out. “I... I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m okay anymore, Shuri .”

“Of course you are, you’re strong,” Shuri replied , though her expression showed that she knew something was very wrong. “We both know how to be strong, don’t we? But… I see there’s something else in your eyes. What happened?”

Your heart sank. You wanted more than anything to not have to face the reality of your discoveries, but you knew you could no longer hide what was eating away at your soul. “I… I trusted someone who I thought saw me, who made me feel… unique.”

Shuri frowned, confusion written all over her face. “Who? I don’t understand, You .”

The pain you felt seemed to grow with every word. “ K’uk’ulkan ,” she said softly, as if his name were a blade slicing through her throat. “He… he made me feel unique, Shuri . He made me believe I was the only one, that I was special. But when you spoke of him… I knew.”

Shuri fell silent, observing more closely. "Are you saying... that he tricked you?"

“It’s not just that,” You He continued, swallowing back the pain that seemed to surface with every passing second. “It’s like everything he did, everything he made me feel, was just a facade. I was so immersed in what he gave me, what he said … but now, hearing you talk, it becomes so clear. He used me, Shuri . He used me to get what he wanted.”

Pain exploded in her chest like a storm. Shuri ’s gaze was one of concern, but also of understanding. “I didn’t know that. I didn’t know he…” Shuri paused for a moment, trying to gather her feelings before continuing. “I… I always knew K’uk’ulkan had his own intentions, but… I never imagined he would play this game with you.”

You felt pressure in your eyes, tears springing unintentionally. "I gave myself to him. Not just physically ... but emotionally. He... made me believe I was different, that he saw the real me. And now, with everything you said, with what he said about others, I... I see that I was just a pawn in this game, a distraction. I was used."

You 's words fell into the silence between them, and Shuri , for a moment, didn't know what to say. The weight of the revelation was immense, and You 's pain reverberated in the air like a wave of despair.

“I should have seen it sooner,” You muttered, looking down at the floor. “I gave myself too much... to him. And now I see how foolish I was. I was just another piece... just another one.”

Shuri walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder in a gesture of support. “You weren’t foolish. You were… human. You were deceived. It’s not your fault. And it doesn’t diminish who you are.”

You looked up at Shuri , but the pain was still there, right there, deep in your chest. “I don’t know who I am anymore… or what I’m doing. He made me feel so unique, and now I see that I was just a tool. I’m not special to him. I never was.”

Shuri looked at her with an intensity You had n't seen before, as if she was trying to understand deeply what was happening. "I understand the pain, You . You gave yourself away, and he didn't mean it. But that doesn't diminish who you are. You are still the princess of Wakanda . You are more than any game he played."

“I don’t know if I’m more than that,” You whispered, your voice filled with pain. “He made me feel seen, like I’ve never felt before. And now… now I’m here, alone.”

Shuri didn't hesitate. "You're not alone. I'm here. And you're stronger than anyone can imagine. Don't let him take away your identity. You 're the only one, You . No matter what he's done."

Silence hung between the two of them for a moment, and Shuri ’s words seemed to somehow ease the pain, but not heal it. You felt like everything around you had become a distorted reflection of yourself, and the pieces you had carefully assembled with K’uk’ulkan now felt fragmented, a lie built on a foundation of uncertainty.

“I just... I don’t know what to do anymore,” you said, your voice shaking. “I thought he was different. I thought he saw something in me. But now I see he only wanted what matters most to him. I was a distraction.”

Shuri looked at you with compassion, but also with firmness. "And if he didn't realize his true strength... that's not your fault. And I'm sure that, in time, he'll see the mistake he made."

"I wanted to believe that so much, Shuri ... I wanted to so much."

The words echoed in the room, and the emptiness in You seemed to expand, every moment with K'uk'ulkan now turning into an irreparable pain. You had been used, and now you had to face the harsh reality that the love she had felt, the words he had said, were just another game to him.

“You deserve so much better than this,” Shuri said, her voice softer now. “And you will find it. I know you will.”

But despite everything, the pain wouldn't leave her. Every word of comfort, every gesture of support from Shuri , only reinforced the hole that was growing inside her. You felt that, once again, the world was leaving her behind, and the emptiness of her loneliness grew, growing as the day dragged on.

(...)

The days dragged on slowly after Shuri’s departure, a distance that you accepted as inevitable, but that, deep down, consumed you. Your life had returned to a routine of commitments, obligations and responsibilities as the acting princess of Wakanda. You were completely absorbed in work, trying to drown your emotions in what needed to be done to keep the country running. However, every night, when you retired to your room, the weight of loneliness followed you like a shadow, and the pain of having been left behind continued to swallow your mind.

You tried not to think about him. You tried, at least, to hide how much you loved him. But every night, before falling asleep, a hot tear rolled down your face, and your broken heart wondered if you would ever be able to be someone's love. If you would ever be the daughter your father so desired, or if you would forever be the third little girl that no one needed.

You felt like you were losing the battle against your own emotions. As much as you tried to convince yourself that you didn't need him , the memories of his words and gestures still haunted you. But one night, after a hot shower to relieve the stress of the day, while you were drying your hair and trying to prepare for another night of solitude, you heard something that made you stop. A soft but insistent knock on your bedroom window.

You looked out the window, stunned. It was him.

With his wide, white wings, he was floating in front of the window, his expression tense and full of a feeling that you couldn't identify. Your heart raced, and for an instant, anger and pain mixed in a whirlwind inside your chest. You knew what he had done, you knew that he had used you, and you didn't want to surrender to him anymore. But something in his gaze, something that seemed to still seek your presence, made you hesitate.

The silence between them hung for a moment, until You approached the window. K'uk'ulkan wasted no time and, with a speed that surprised her, entered through the window, holding her face with both hands possessively.

He pulled her to him and, without words, kissed her with an overwhelming intensity. It was a voracious, desperate kiss, as if he were trying to fill the void he himself had created between them. His hands on her face were like anchors, and the kiss, hot and urgent, made her lose herself for a moment.

When he finally pulled away, they were both panting, their bodies still close, but with an emotional distance that couldn't be ignored. He looked at her with intensity, but also with something you could n't define.

" Don't ever do that again ," he said hoarsely, the tension still visible in his eyes. "I waited for you. You didn't come."

You looked at him, your chest tight, your heart full of pain and anger. You didn't know what you felt for him anymore, but you knew what he had done to her. “I knew you would come, K'uk'ulkan . I know what you want. I know what you did to me.”

He looked at you, confused, and with a slight movement of his head, he seemed to be looking for an explanation for her words. But you no longer wanted to hide the truth, you no longer wanted to be the lost princess who waited for something that would never come.

“You used me. You used me to get what you wanted.” She looked into his eyes, her chest pounding. “You played with my feelings. You destroyed me.”

He seemed to want to speak, but his words came out with difficulty, as if he were trying to justify the unjustifiable. He didn’t apologize. “I did use you, You . But… the feelings I have for you were not lies. My nation has always been my priority. I needed to do whatever it took to protect my people, and my interests, they… they will always come above all else. And you knew that.”

You took a step back, anger now overpowering the emptiness in your chest. His words felt like a direct blow to your soul. “ Above me? ” Pain mixed with suffering. “What did I do to you? What did I do to Talokan ? I just wanted to be loved, unique. I just wanted to matter to someone. Not be the third daughter that no one needs. I just... I just want to be loved!”

His words exploded in the air, and the silence hung heavy. Você felt the pressure of reality crushing her, the emptiness he had left consuming her more with each passing second. What you desired most, what you wanted most, was something he could never give her. He had used her, he had treated her like a bargaining chip, and now, with his empty words about nation and duty, he had left her broken.

He seemed deeply disturbed by what he had just heard, but to You , that was all you needed to know. He had failed her. And in those moments, You realized that perhaps it had been a mistake to believe that he would ever love her. You was nothing more than another piece on the board of a game he didn’t care about losing.

"I... I never meant to make you feel this way," K'uk'ulkan said, his voice barely audible. But you couldn't hear him anymore. You didn't want to hear his empty excuses, you didn't want to be fooled by what he said anymore.

“ You never saw me ,” you murmured, your gaze blank, pain spreading throughout your body. “I’m not the woman you thought I was. I’m not your ‘one’.”

He stood there, watching her. His pain was now visible, streaming down his face, but he didn't know how to ease it. No words could heal what he had caused.

You looked at him one last time before turning away, feeling the weight of all your illusions crumbling. You no longer knew who you were, but you were sure of one thing: she would no longer be the woman who would let herself be used. She would no longer be the woman who waited for the love of someone who would never see her as anything more than an exchange.

The tension in the room felt suffocating, and you could barely breathe in front of him. His words had hit you with the force of a storm, but your heart was still torn to pieces by the pain of disappointment. K'uk'ulkan , with his heavy gaze and imposing posture, seemed so distant, as if the very weight of what he had done was consuming him.

"I know you want to understand, but... I did what I had to do," he said again, his voice low, almost begging to be understood. "I had to protect my people."

You , feeling the bitterness of those words piercing your chest, swallowed the cry that wanted to come out. Tears threatened, but she refused to show any more weakness. You looked at him with a mixture of anger and tiredness. So many times he had said that he was doing the right thing for his nation, that it was for them that he did what he did. And you ... You were just a disposable piece in his plans.

"Please," you said softly, calmer than you actually felt. "If you still have any regard for me, and if you truly care, I ask that you keep what we had a secret. Please... don't hurt T'Challa's son . "

The words came out with an immense weight, a weight that seemed to weigh you down . She could hardly believe that she still cared for him after everything. But there was something inside her that still wanted to ask for something good. Something that was just hers .

You swallowed a final sob, trying to maintain your dignity. “Thank you, K’uk’ulkan ,” you said, your voice nearly breaking. “For the sweet illusion you gave me. Though it was painful, it warmed my gray heart in times of storm.”

K'uk'ulkan was silent for a moment, clearly shaken, but he didn't take his eyes off her . When he spoke, his voice was softer, more sincere, but also filled with a regret she hadn't known he had. "I'm so sorry," he said. "You're an amazing woman. And even though I didn't love you, this feeling is growing in my chest. I never thought I would be able to feel something for a surface dweller ... but you...you made me see the world differently."

You laughed, but the sound was dry, almost lifeless. “Do you still think it matters?” you asked, forcing yourself to look him in the eye. “I’ve had enough time to cry and regret a lie. Please go away.”

K'uk'ulkan remained silent, but his gaze was heavy. "I wouldn't do that. I would never hurt you, my princess...or yours."

You raised an eyebrow. "And how many princesses have you had, K'uk'ulkan ? How many of them have you made believe you were special?"

He smiled with an air of confidence, but also with suppressed sadness. “Many,” he admitted. “But only you will be my queen… in the future.”

You took a step back, feeling a chill run down your spine. He had said it as if it were a certainty, an unbreakable promise. But you knew, deep down, that this was just another one of his plays. An attempt to keep your attention.

You forced yourself not to give in, not to let his words make your heart beat faster with hope again. “No, K’uk’ulkan ,” she said firmly. “You will not deceive me again. I will not fall for your words again.”

He came closer , once again, but this time, there was something different in his gaze. He leaned in to whisper something in your ear, something that made your body shiver. His name. His real name. The words fell into your ear like a deep secret, something you would never have expected to hear. When he whispered, you felt vulnerable, taken by an unexpected sensation. The desire to kiss him came back with force. Your lips almost met, but you forced yourself to pull away. No. Not anymore.

K'uk'ulkan , with a deep look, seemed to understand. "I'm sorry," he said, almost voicelessly. "You're the only one who knows my name. And I hope that, one day, you'll understand me. I'll be waiting for you, when you're ready."

Before You could say anything else, he turned and walked away, leaving the room in silence.

You stood there, in the same place, your heart growing heavier and heavier. When the tears finally came, you no longer tried to hide them. The tears fell like a torrent, endless, without any comfort. The pain was unbearable, and the feeling of emptiness never seemed to end.

But as the crying subsided, you began to reflect. He didn't deserve your love. He never knew how to treat you the way you needed to be treated. He used you, manipulated you. And in the end, he didn't even have the courage to truly apologize, just making lame excuses, as if everything was justifiable in the name of his nation.

No. You didn't deserve this. Not anymore.

As you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you felt a different strength inside you. You knew that one day you would be loved by someone. That someone, somewhere, would truly love you, not as a bargaining chip, not as a pawn in a political game. Someone would see you as the only one. And maybe only then would you be able to open yourself up to love again. But not now. Not with him. And for the first time, you felt a strange calm, a sense that even after the pain, something good was waiting for you in the future. You just had to be patient.

[last-years-pizza]

imperius rex

[aolechan]

Tenoch Huerta Mejía as Namor in Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022) directed by Ryan Coogler

[criaaturaa]

SINKING TOWN MEME BPWF

[riotpanther]

to this day i wish these lines from the original script made it into the final cut of wakanda forever.

i was sad when the talokan girl died. unlike the guard who clearly intended to kill shuri, she was just scared and tried to protect herself in the only way she thought possible. unfortunately that method was holding a knife to the princess of wakanda’s throat and refusing to let her go when nakia gave her a chance to.

while i feel for the poor talokan girl, i have absolutely no sympathy for namor’s hypocritical ass when it was ultimately his actions that endangered his own people. he committed devastating violence and bloodshed on wakanda over the death of an innocent young woman which only happened because of his own plan to kill another innocent young woman. but the sad reality is that namor would have attacked wakanda anyway because of their refusal to aid him in going to war with the surface world. while riri and shuri before he murdered her mother of course never meant namor or talokan any harm, namor always intended to hurt them (riri from the start and shuri from the moment she didn’t give him what he wanted). so basically that fishman forced my girls (particularly shuri) into an impossible “my-way-or-the-highway” situation where no matter what they did they would lose.

this dialogue really highlights namor’s gross double standards that a lot of people disregard/overlook and really should have been included in the film.

[oakzap425]

The terror and anguish I feel at the fact that Namor and Talokan have to return into the MCU under the use of White Writers and Directors.

Deep Sigh.

[funnyexel]

delusional water king

“They’ll see you as my goddess.” Shaking your head, you back away from the man. 

“I’m not a goddess. I’m an experiment.” You show him the number on your lower back, accompanied by scars along the skin you displayed to him. Staring at your figure, he noticed the scars were pink in your dark skin, most likely scabbed up and picked away by the strong currents. Shoving your shirt down, you cross your arms over your stomach, looking down and away from him. 

“I am grateful that you saved me, I am but...I don’t want to destroy the beautiful city you helped build.” His eyes bore into you, even as you’re not looking, the chance of intimidation being too great. 

“I can’t control it, Namor.” The way his name moved off your tongue and into the air made him tispy, it echoed in the cave, bouncing off the walls. 

“You saw what I did. I killed so many people.” Glossy eyes stared up at the feathered serpent god. He squinted at you with a smirk playing at his lips, was he finally seeing the real, troubled you? Turning to the hole in the ground that leads to the endless body of water, you fully intend on leaving. 

“I’m sorry, if this is disrespectful to you. Please understand that everywhere I go destruction tends to follow.” 

“Go ahead.” He responds after listening to you, biting your lip and moving a hair from your face, you sigh. 

“I will disregard the disrespect. Only because it is coming from you, in reina.” Giving him a shy smile, you nod not quite understanding the last bits of what he said.

Standing off the edge where rock meets water, you step onto the liquid, turning to him and giving him a small wave. Submerging into the water, a small bubble tracing around your body that keeps air flowing while the water propels you through the small tunnels and out of Talokan. The feeling of guilt tugs at you for leaving your savior but the guilt of killing hundreds of people where you were held captive ate you alive. Reaching the surface, the bubble of air slowly deteriorates as you walk up to the sandy shore. Moments to dawn, you catch your breath as you walk away from the beach, taking one hesitant look back before disappearing into the dense forest. You needed time. Time to figure out your powers, time to find yourself and forgive yourself. It didn’t take long for you to forgive yourself for the unfortunate events at the hell hole, in the matter of days you thought and realized that losing your temper had to have been the best case scenario. 

You spent time in an abondoned hut alongside the oceanside. It was peaceful, the waves were a natural lullaby and helped with the unease of sleeping. Being self-efficent gave you the chance to fool around with your powers, learn what you can do without causing a catastrophe. Sitting elevated above the waves, you meditated and wondered if he would try to find you. 

“In reina.” You whispered opening your eyes, looking across the blue mirrors that connected with each wave, you could’ve sworn you heard someone say it before you.

Refraining from saying ‘hello’ or any of the sort. You’d rather not know if someone is here with you. Moving closer to the edge of the small cliff, you sway your hand in a circular motion, the waters pushing itself into a dance. Watching closely as the water formed a small cone shaped tornado that sunk to the bottom of the shallow floor. In this it showed, the particles of sand and small plants being swept into the current. Putting your hand in your lap, the mini tornado, slowed to a stop and transitioned back to the usual current of the ocean. Looking around your surroundings once more, you get up, dusting yourself off and go back to your hut.

If you could say something different to Namor, what would you say? Ask him what ‘in reina’ means or what he meant by ‘my goddess’. You were so shocked by what you’ve done prior that it didn’t register how handsome the man was, his tan skin, fit physique, raven hair and darkness that hides in his brown irises. A clear portrait of the man was painted onto the walls of your mind, and you were repeatedly looking at the painting, thinking of him after days of being alone. Laying down, you get comfortable on the floor bound cot, closing your eyes, your body relaxes on the soft surface.

“Y/n, in reina.” The voice deep, meaningful and close. Opening your eyes, your rest felt like it only lasted a split second. Looking around, you were surrounded by turquoise looming lights. The scenery definitely unfamiliar. Standing to your feet,

“Nib óolal, waal mía,” you turn to the sound of feet shuffling behind you and catch a glimpse of a blue skinned person leaving. Dark messy hair enters your view as you shake your head. Convinced that you’re hallucinating about this man, this dangerously attractive and hot man.

“What are you doing here?” You say in complete disbelief. A slight furrow in his brows as he gives you a small smile and honestly you could’ve dropped your panties for him right there. Wait what?

“I have changed my mind.” He reaches behind his neck, taking off one of his necklaces.

“Changed your mind?” You relay back to him in confusion, at this he smiles and nods.

“Can’t someone have a change of mind?” Your mind is fogged with confusion and its clearly displayed on your face.

“Yes, but I’m not following. I don’t understand what you're saying.” The small sounds his jewelry made as he rests them down on the nearest surface, echoes in the little pauses of silence.

“Am I not speaking english?” He asks as if you literally couldn’t understand. You realize he’s joking and chuckle.

“You are. I mean- ….What did you change your mind on?” You lose your train of thought mid sentence, his muscles suddenly having more definition now that its no longer covered by the many necklaces he wore.

His masculine stature compliments his collar bone and defined jaw thats hidden under a well kept beard. You need to get a hold of yourself, zoning out while observing his body and objectifying him when given the slightest chance. What would he do if he found out? Something bad you hope. Blinking yourself out the trance, bare chest is in your eyeshot. Looking up through your eyelashes, he’s already looking down.

“You.” Watching as his palm rests along your cheek, steadily tracing down your jaw and stopping by your chin.

All the while your breathing hitches, his thumb rubs along your lower lip. Most alarms are ringing in your head for you to stop but whats a simple kiss? Your hand slides up his waist, toned stomach and rests on his shoulder. His gaze shifting for a moment to your hand and back to you, by then you were already pushing yourself up. His lips pull you into a hypnosis of only wanting him, only wanting to kiss him, wanting to climb in his skin. His lips stray from yours to your cheek and neck in a rushed manner. His arm capturing you in an embrace to keep you from stumbling backward.

Your chest heaves excessively as you realize what you’re going to do. Failing to release you from his embrace, he guides you to a soft patch of the cave. It was odd, grassy and soft as he laid you down. The space made you wonder about the deep sea of unknown even more, if there’s possibility of healthy gardens thriving underwater, what other possibilities are there? Your hands glide over the greenery, feeling the cushiony plants and enjoying the pleasant sound it made as your hands moved through. All your senses were being satisfied, especially your eyes. The sight of him kneeling in front of you can make any women weak. He observes you and your fascination with the scene. His hands compliment your skin, when they stroke your thighs, goosebumps rising on your skin. Despite your body growing hotter and hotter with each passing moment. Leaning down, he kisses up to your core. Kisses alternating from right thigh to left thigh, your hips accidentally jerk once he’s two kisses away. His gaze shifts to you once more and he smiles. His dimples peaking through.

Your excitement is getting the best of you as he pulls your pants off, his finger tips gracing your lower stomach. Lowering his head to your core, you close your eyes and he kisses you. One long slow swipe of his tongue from your hole to your clit. His tongue teasingly licking at your clit, small and kitten like. You hum a moan, your hand hovering over your lips in upmost disbelief. Sucking on your folds like a starved man, he hooks his arms under your thighs and his hands grip at your thighs. Sweat beads down your forehead, mixing with a tear of pleasure. Finally opening your eyes, he is totally indulged in your pussy. Your shiny wetness on his cheeks, his head moving from side to side to make sure nothing is left untended to. A broken gasp leaves your chest when he nips at your clit sharply. Fanning yourself, you take in deep breaths at the realization that your body is overheating. You attempt to plead his name but his tongue slips in your hole at the right moment and touches your g-spot. Making you shriek.

“namor…” You mutter, breathing heavily. Your pussy squeezing his tongue and legs clenching on his head, demanding more. Shaking your head, your moans leave your throat in a struggle.

Cumming all over his cheeks and chin, he laps up the mess and unhooks his hands from your thighs. Your eyes follow his stature as he sits up. Your chest heaving up and down, he holds you in a compelling trance.

“What are you doing,” His voice dips in a jagged tone, warning you and stopping you in your tracks. You were scooting away from him.

“take me home, please.” You trembled as he shifted close.

You cross your ankles and shield yourself from him, “we can’t, namor please, listen to me.” He shakes his head, his playful manner gone.

“I hear you, but I won’t listen.” His hands uncross your ankles, opening your legs to him once more, “I’ll fuck you until you beg to stay with me.” You gasp, his hard-on rubbing against you as he raps your legs around his waist.

The waistband of his shorts gone and your eyes dart everywhere. This is what you want, it is, but this is one of those journeys that you can’t turn back from once you’ve begun.

“Look.” He commands your body with a word, this brings a soft smile to his lips.

“I deserve you. I knew I did when I first saw you,” he moans softly when he uses his fingers to part your soaked lips.

“I waited this long, can’t you give me something I deserve, hm?” His attention was on you, his tip moving between your lips and squishing around your come. You moan as nod to the man, cursing yourself at your wordless affirmations.

a/n: don't mind the title I'm just having fun at this point...and here's the translations cause I know some of y'all lazy asf

in reina - my queen

Nib óolal, waal mía - thank you, my child

more of my writing

[spicyboelives]

Wakanda Forever had a profound effect on me, I dont think I can encapsulate it. Anyway thats my marvelsona Ma'lin in the 2nd pic, gotta make a proper ref sheet/lore breakdown of him sometime.

[passwordispassword]

I LOVE U NAMOR

[hydravns]

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

[mariaxxxxx]

Dragon fruit ( Namor x fem!reader)

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

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

PART 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My love..."

He interrupts her with a simple look and speaks again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[comicavalcade]

Namor Week Day 2

Today is Namor Week Day 2, and we're exploring Sunlight in the Depths in the realm of Talokan

@namorweek

[imperiuswrecked]

I became the first born son of Talokan. The plant gave me wings on my ankles, and ears that pointed to the clouds.

Namor Week 2024 - Day 1 - Wings Namor + Wings @namorweek

[skylarstark4826]

I loved this beautiful Black Panther fanarts Wakanda Forever of the beautiful Nashuri ship of the characters of Namor and Shuri together, especially because I love that in it Namor and Shuri are underwater that Namor is romantically holding Shuri against him with his hand on Shuri's leg at the same time that she has her hands on her shoulders while they both stare into each other's eyes... the truth is I won't lie I would have wished we had this beautiful scene of them together in the Black Panther Wakanda Forever movie

By the way, this beautiful Fanart of them is not mine and the credits are not for me, but I let you know that right here I am going to leave you the link of the true creator on Twitter. Since apparently there is a new update on Twitter and you can only see the link if you press X.Com

[talkingparrotkee]

I do still really like how much Shuri and Namor mirror each other. They mirror in grief (Ryan Coogler confirmed this himself), in loss, in their love languages (acts of service), in their role and mantle... The list goes on.

It was such a big brain move to have Shuri and Namor framed as each other's equals, reflection in dare I say every way. It makes for a compelling dynamic. It makes Shuri and Namor such a good pair. As enemies, as friends, as partners, as foils...

The fact that Shuri herself realized this to the point that it was the reason why she initially hesitated to kill him in the first place even after everything... Well. It's just a testament to how strongly they related and how they're ultimately just broken leaders trying to do right by their people.