#also you can’t tell me part of Erik wasn’t like ‘maybe he’d be better off without me’ when he left the beach

[ironhusband]

Thinking about Erik snapping at Charles with “well maybe you should have fought harder for them” and the pain in his eyes when Charles told him they didn’t want the same things.

[teafairywithabook]

Learning a Sadism Demon’s Past

It’s probably not spoilers anymore but incase anyone hasn’t listened to Vegas latest audio, I’m off on one about it. Also, slight CW for a teeny bit about sadism.

I’m so unhinged about vega rn

So there’s NO CWS on this audio. That means his concern that they get enough rest, Vega saying he values their input, his compliment about their intelligence was not manipulative. I’m crying

His decision to trust them a little more was not manipulative.

Oh his little growly voice made me kick my feet and giggle like I was sitting on the dock with an ice cream and a cute boy just winked at me. I am a slut for this man. I can’t fix him. I definitely can’t make him any worse, but he can make me worse. Please let him make me worse!

And yes he’s old! If you’ve EVER spoken to me you know Ive been talking about this for ages! Or maybe you read my last post about theories. And I also think that Vega perhaps didn’t lose the fight in The Cost. That idea never sat right. A powerful demon centuries old, losing a fight to 2 demons and a human he’d regard as children? Not likely to my mind. So I’ve had theories on that too and sorry if I’ve ranted at you about these before! Either Vega wanted to be caught to “fill up” on fuel, after all whats time spent in prison to an immortal?

Or maybe he actually held back. Is he good? No. Is he evil? That is a very different and much more complicated answer. He doesn’t seem to want to kill unless it’s deserved or necessary. If he did, it would have been easy to kill Caelum the first time they met instead of (rather brutally) trying to chase him off. Vega obviously values life. All life. Or he wouldn’t have joined the Cacophony, and he wouldn’t be trying to do what he’s doing. He’d just let the Meridian fall and consume Elegy.

Of course…the other reason Vega could have lost is that I believe at the time Erik had no plans to bring him back and was finishing a storyline. So yay for retconning! There’s no right answers here and if you believe Gavin beat Vega fair and square then that’s what happened.

This audio also seems to back up something else: that Vega does have morals. Sort of. Of his own. Or at least, he doesn’t cause pain indiscriminately. It’s what he needs but he doesn’t seem to like that fact much. When he spoke to Warden about their diets, he sounded bitter about it. Feeding as he does separates him and makes him an outcast and if he wasn’t a sadism demon, he’d be more accepted. I think it’s part of wanting to go back to Aria and rely on Sovereigns again. He also knows and understands the value of suffering. That when people sacrifice for something, it’s a sacrifice to be honoured and shouldn’t be taken for granted and wasted.

*CoughDeathwalkersCough*

None of that means he’s not a sadist. He clearly is! But he can take enjoyment in someone’s pain and discomfort, without wanting them dead. And who better to appreciate suffering than a sadist?

I absolutely want to scream about the development here! Not just how so much time changes someone (Vega, who were you?) but how Vega knows the Meridian needs mending. And how he doesn’t trust the Sovereigns there either.

It’s also…considerate ? I’m gonna say considerate…that Vega knows he’s going to hurt people to achieve what he needs but has not only given Warden yet another out, but told them he’ll do these things out of view if they choose to join him. I’d say he can’t feed on Warden so he’s just keeping them on side, but again that manipulation warning was missing, so I’m taking that at face value. I wonder if Warden is going to try to argue him out of it or be passive about things? Or…are we gonna get that tasty corruption arc?

Now between Blake’s audios saying bestie won’t survive and Vega outright saying he’s gonna hurt people it seems a clear hint Bestie will die on this arc but…what if it’s Blake? That could just be me but I love a twist. Blake’s Seeing doesn’t let him look into Death or Aria so he can’t tell why Bestie dies in every eventuality. What if it’s Vega, and Blake can do something (you know…like let the demon in the basement go? I can’t see Vega being pleased about that).

I’m always up for talking about Vega (or any of the bois) so feel free to send me an ask or screech at me in my inbox! Especially if you’re new to the fandom! (Hi) and sorry if this for a little long and ranty. I probably didn’t make much sense but I knew what I meant!

[earnestly-endlessly]

hi! hope you're doing well :) do you have any domestic!cherik fics? or established relationship ones?

Hi anon, thanks for the ask. I'm doing very well, been super busy because I'm currently moving but it's all good. I have plenty of great domestic/established relationship cherik fics for you. I hope you enjoy!!

Domestic/Established Relationship cherik

Daycare ‘Verse’ – orphan_account, pocky_slash

Summary: A modern AU in which Charles runs a mutant daycare and Erik is his long-suffering engineer boyfriend.

Runs in the Family – Anonysquirrel (chibirisuchan)

Summary: Alex knew his own reputation. Hell, he'd started some of his own reputation, because it kept some of the smarter thugs off his back. Everyone knew Alex's reputation. There was no way Hank didn't know his reputation, but he'd brought Alex into a house with some really expensive things and a lot of innocent little kids and his too-friendly, too-harmless dad.

But clearly Hank hadn't told his family anything about Alex, just like he hadn't told Alex anything about his family. At least, not about the brain-breaking parts of his family.

"I didn't know where to start," Hank said, for the dozenth time.

Gift of the Magi, But Screw it Up – librata

Summary: He doesn't know if he's buying too much, too little, or even the right things at all, because he's never entertained a guest as important as Edie Lehnsherr.

Making perfect – aesc

Summary: As is the case with most trials in Erik's life, this one starts with Charles gazing beseechingly at him and asking him for a favor. Not that their going-on-three years relationship is a trial, even though it started with Charles giving Erik the full benefit of sad blue eyes and asking him if he wouldn't mind opening his car door since he'd locked his keys inside, but still.

Continue firm and constant – aesc

Summary: Moira hasn't seen her old partner in saving the world from threats human and intergalactic, Erik Lehnsherr, for a few years. When she finally does see him again, she finds a man different from the one who's been with her down in the dark and the dirt and the blood... or maybe he isn't so different after all.

After School Special – listerinezero

Summary: Charles was barely seventeen and Erik was his social studies teacher. But after almost fifteen years together, does it really matter how they met?

Terrifying Domesticity – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is the most dangerous and notorious mafia boss around for miles, and yet the strangest things terrify him.

For example: his children, and his very pregnant mate.

Trying is Half the Battle – Pookaseraph

Summary: Post-Cuba, no divorce, Charles and Erik are in an established relationship and when Charles gets sick with a random flu bug, they discover that Charles can get pregnant. They then try to get pregnant, and try, and try.

We’ll all be gone for the summer – pocky_slash

Summary: Charles and Erik's usual family beach vacation gets a little bigger when they agree to watch Erik's teenaged twins for the summer. Charles is looking forward to a chance to bond with his step-children. Erik is terrified of screwing them up even more.

A Summer Day So Late in Coming – helens78

Summary: Fifty years after they fell in love, Erik comes to Charles with a proposal that rocks Charles's world.

Still Going Strong – JackyJango

Summary: Speaking of forty-eight, Erik hates it. Hates it even more that others are aware of it. While he’s pragmatic enough to know and accept that aging is inexorable, the increase in number gives the people around him the freedom to pounce at him with questions, opinions and advice he'd fought to keep at bay all year.

Besides, Erik believes that youth is a state of mind, not a phase in one’s life.

You have a child’s mind in a man’s body, Charles constantly tells him.

But despite his age, Erik is healthy. He works out daily. His muscles are steel and he can dead-lift four hundred pounds. He can break bones without breaking a sweat. Most importantly, he can still carry Charles to the bedroom and fuck him senseless. And as long as Erik can do that, he’s perfectly happy.

Before You Attempt Me (Fair Warning) – kianspo

Summary: Charles helps Raven get ready for the prom. Surprisingly, that part goes well. The prom itself not so much. Erik cooks a lot of unhealthy comfort foods and is incredibly patient. Charles mostly frets about everything, until Erik does something neither he, nor Raven see coming.

And now you will not be alone any more – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik gives driving, sewing, and cooking lessons, soothes nightmares, bolsters self-esteem, and still can't figure out why Charles keeps smiling at him like that.

Some sense of touch and a melody – pocky_slash

Summary: On a day when Charles, for once, finds himself saying the right thing to everyone he sees, he allows himself to be talked into a field trip to a local orchard.

It’s kind of our whole thing – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: After two years of best friendship, Charles and Erik thought they knew everything there was to know about each other. They're surprised, then, when their first summer as a couple reveals that they have a lot to learn about each other and themselves.

Indulgence – grim_lupine

Summary: “The children are still asleep,” Charles murmurs groggily, flinging an arm out as if searching for Erik beside him. “The house is still standing, this is a ghastly hour, and more importantly, I’m still here. Why do you insist on doing this every morning?”

Your Father’s Daughter – ConsultingWriter

Summary: Wanda proves just how much she takes after Erik.

Pietro reeled back before leaning back in "They didn't tell you what happened? Wanda got in a fist fight and totally wailed on this guy, I mean, on one hand I feel kinda embarrassed for him, but it was so epic."

Erik's eyebrows shot to his hairline. Wanda got in a fight? That was....surprising, to say the least. Wanda tended to take after Charles in temperament and preferred talking to violence.

This Crazy Game Called Life – chiasmus

Summary: Raven declares game night in the mansion. Sean finds an elephant, Erik inherits one hundred unwanted cats, and Charles scars Hank for life with misdirected dirty thinking. This is five thousand-something words of crack with a dose of schmoop. I'm not sorry. Written for this kink meme prompt: Raven is tired of the boys going off to play chess (if they're even playing chess!) and pulls out a load of board games from one of the closets in the mansion. Madness ensues.

To my roomba with love – sareyen

Summary: There are a lot of things that Erik loves about Charles. He loves all of the obvious things; Charles’s kindness, his intelligence, his laughter, his eyes. He also loves the little private things; the way Charles sneaks Erik his unwanted tomatoes, his warbled opera singing in the shower, that sensitive spot on his hip.

And he loves the silly things about Charles, especially the way the man has a habit of talking to inanimate objects when he thinks no one is looking. Charles has conversations with the kettle, the washing machine, and their roomba – and every time Erik eavesdrops on him, he falls in love with the man a little bit more.

Everything About it is a Love Song – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik's spent fifty years being a figurehead and he's ready to leave that behind. Luckily, so is Charles.

(aka Old Retired Dudes in Love)

A Very Xavier-Lehnsherr Christmas – zamwessell

Summary: Erik is discovering new things about Charles Xavier all the time. Charles sometimes talks in his sleep. Often about food. Occasionally in Latin. Charles has a scar on his left thigh from attempting to demonstrate relativity to a girl by sitting on a hot stove. Charles doesn’t mean to be so loud when they make love, but sometimes Charles can’t help himself.

Charles is a voracious reader. Charles has an unspeakably filthy imagination. Charles will try anything in bed twice to make sure he wasn’t wrong the first time.

Charles is unexpectedly fond of Christmas. Perhaps that is not the phrase. “Unhealthily obsessed” might be better.

The fluffiest holiday fluff you ever read in your dang life.

Of Crabs and Castles – flightinflame 

Summary: Charles and Erik take their children to the beach. Wanda builds a sandcastle, Nina makes some friends, and Pietro gets some exercise. Some family fun in the sunshine.

Bring Your Daughter To Work Day – listerinezero

Summary: Charles brings three year old Lorna to class with him.

Glasses – grim_lupine

Summary: Charles blinks at him bemusedly, but Erik barely notices because Charles is wearing glasses— wire-rimmed, and Erik can feel the metal humming, traces without touch the way they follow the curve of Charles’s nose and rest behind his ears.

Genetics Isn’t Sexy – pocky_slash

Summary: Charles lectures. The kids aren't very responsive. Erik, on the other hand....

Peanut Butter and Honey (The Fairytale Remix) – pocky_slash

Summary: Once upon a time there was a Princess named Anya who lived in a house with her Daddy and her wicked stepmother Charles. (A wicked stepmother is the person who comes and lives with princesses and their daddies after their mommies go away.) She had a best friend named Leroy, and one day he was lost.

The Bystander (The Consultant (aka A Westchester Telepath in the Avengers Tower) Remix) – Nanimok

Summary: When it comes to Professor Charles Xavier, telepath, SHIELD consultant and compulsive flirt, no one is safe.

Not even the Big Three.

[marvelyningreen]

Even If it Changes Nothing

[Summary: Erik Lehnsherr isn’t the same man he was in his youth. It may be too late for it to do any good, but there’s someone he needs to apologize to.

Notes: XCU, canon characters only]

Erik took a deep, steadying breath and let it out slowly. After everything he’d seen, after everything he’d done, this was what put his stomach in knots.

He’s certain that Charles would find the moment terribly amusing. Fortunately for him, Charles wasn’t there. Erik squared his shoulders, and rang the doorbell.

For a moment, all he heard was the quiet sounds of life on the suburban street. Then, from within the house, footsteps crossing the floor. The door swung open, and Erik found himself fixed with an icy glare.

“The hell are you doing here,” said Magda.

Somehow, it wasn’t phrased as a question. Erik knew she wouldn’t be happy to see him. That’s part of the reason he’d turned up on her doorstep unannounced, really. That wasn’t to say that Magda wouldn’t slam the door in his face, of course. She had the backbone, the self-respect, and every right to do just that. But maybe, seeing him face-to-face like this, she’d actually hear him out.

Erik summoned up a smile. “May I come in?”

Magda regarded him silently. The years hadn’t changed her keen, scrutinizing gaze, that much was certain. She sighed, her shoulders dropping ever so slightly.

“You might as well,” she said. “I’ll have a lot of explaining to do if any of the neighbors recognize you.”

She unlocked the screen door, stepping aside for Erik to let himself in.

Magda was every bit as beautiful as she’d been when Erik knew her, and just as strong and self-possessed. It’s what he’d always admired about her. He gently closed the door behind himself.

“If you’re looking for Peter, he’s not here,” Magda said. “Try the school.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” said Erik. “I just want to talk, Magda.”

Her jaw tightened, and she folded her arms. “You’re gonna turn up here after this many years and call me ‘Magda?’”

Erik blinked. “That’s your real name.”

“And what makes you think you have any right to use it?”

They’d both had too much to drink that night, and between the alcohol and the warmth of their companionship, Erik found himself saying too much. Bits of his history came out – things that he’d never meant to tell anyone about his past, his family, what’d happened to them.

In return, she’d shared a bit of her own history. Her parents were an Eastern European Romani couple, living in Austria. One the eve of the Anschluss, they fled, eventually making their way to America.

But the fear never left them. They hid their heritage, never saying much about their ancestry, never speaking their native tongue outside their house. And, in a bid to protect their child from facing persecution, they decided to westernize their names.

That’s how Erik learned that Mary Maximoff’s true name was Magda Maximov. She’d never told that to anyone else, she’d said. From that night, Erik never once called her ‘Mary’ again. He’d never thought of her as anything but ‘Magda.’

But using that name now… It implied a great deal of familiarity and trust – both things he’d long since forfeited.

“You’re right,” said Erik.

Magda- No. Mary held his gaze for a second as she turned around – a silent, begrudging invitation to follow her further into the house. In the kitchen, she produced a bottle of whiskey. After another long, hard look at Erik, she brought two glasses down from the cabinet, filling them both and pushing one across the counter to him.

That was the closest thing to an olive branch that he was bound to get.

“So? You said you wanted to talk. Now talk.” Mary took a drink.

Erik picked up his glass, contemplated it for a moment, and set it back down.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said.

Mary let out a harsh, incredulous laugh. “Apologize? For what, leaving me alone as an unwed mother in the 1950’s?”

“I didn’t know-” Erik began, but it sounded like an excuse even to his own ears.

“Of course you didn’t,” said Mary. “You just packed up and left, off on your one-man quest for revenge again. I tried to contact you, you know that? But you did an excellent job of making that impossible.”

He’d gotten a lead on the men he’d been hunting. He didn’t have any time to waste – or so he’d thought at the time. He told himself that he’d always meant to come back. Even then, part of him must have known that it was a lie.

“Are you going to try to tell me it would’ve been different if you’d known about Peter?” Mary asked, raising her chin.

Erik’s gaze drifted to his hands, still resting on the countertop. A family wasn’t part of his plans, not back then.

“That’s what I thought,” Mary said. She took another drink. “You were never one to care about individuals, Erik. All you ever cared about was the big picture, and all your moralizing about tearing it all down and rebuilding a better world.”

It was a painful truth that Erik had tried for many years not to acknowledge. He hadn’t once considered what might’ve become of Mary, or of any other human he’d encountered. The consequences of his actions were simply a byproduct of a higher mission – either necessary sacrifices or too inconsequential to consider.

“I told everyone I was a widow,” Mary continued, “That I’d gone back to my maiden name to avoid painful reminders. It wasn’t too much of a stretch. You were dead to me already.”

He deserved that. Mary cleared her throat, turning her attention to topping off her glass. Erik got the impression that she was saying more than she meant to. Well, if she needed to call him out for his sins, he owed it to her to listen.

“Raising a son on your own,” said Erik, “How did you do it?”

A bitter smile tugged at her mouth. “Luckily, my parents were still alive at the time. They helped me take care of Peter while I went to school to become a nurse. It was hard work, but it let me support us all.”

All. Erik had heard Peter mention a younger sister. He couldn’t help but notice her picture alongside Peter’s – a little red-haired girl named Gwendolyn. Another mouth for Mary to feed on her own.

If things had been different, could this have been his future? A wife, a son, an ordinary life here in America? Would it all have come crashing down around him just the same? Would he have lost them, too?

No, that way lies madness. And in any case, Erik knew himself better than that. Nothing would have deterred him from his goal, not even a loving family. Erik took a slow sip of the whiskey.

“When Peter gained his powers, I was terrified,” Mary said. “Not because he was a mutant. I just didn’t want him to end up like you.”

Not even an attempt to soften the statement. It almost made Erik laugh, but that certainly wouldn’t have helped the situation.

“Well, that makes two of us,” he said. “And then, to see him run headlong into danger the way he did. I can’t imagine how that must’ve felt.”

Mary’s bleak expression answered for her. She took another long sip of whiskey.

“For what it’s worth,” said Erik, “And I know it isn’t worth much, coming from me, but… You raised him well. Peter is a good man – selfless and brave. I know he learned that from you.”

In his younger days, Erik was a man consumed by grief and pain and vengeance. He would’ve been a poor excuse for a father, and they both knew it. But that didn’t erase his neglect.

“You know all my explanations already, and all my excuses,” said Erik. “And nothing I say can undo the past. But I owe you this much – to tell you that I am truly sorry for what I’ve done.”

He retrieved a folded piece of paper from his pocket.

“I also wanted you to have his,” he said, holding it out to Mary.

Her eyes narrowed as she took it. “What is it?”

“It’s my contact information. If there’s ever anything you need-”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve assuming that I’d need your help,” Mary interrupted, “Or that I’d even want it.”

Erik closed his eyes for a moment at the sharpness of her words.

“I know,” he said. “Believe me, I know. You may tear it up, if you wish. But if there’s anything I can do, if there’s any way I can begin to make up for how I’ve hurt you – please. I want to make amends, if I can.”

Mary’s grip on the paper tightened for a moment. She pursed her lips.

“I heard about what happened. In Poland, I mean,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, Erik.”

She looked up again, meeting his gaze. For a moment, the pain and anger were gone. Her expression was simply full of that sincere compassion that first drew him to her those many years ago. The same genuine kindness, even the same name that his beloved wife had possessed.

Erik’s throat tightened.

“Thank you,” he said.

He looked down again, finishing off his whiskey at once.

Once again, someone was being far kinder to him than he deserved. Erik wasn’t sure what he’d expected to feel after this conversation. Closure? He didn’t feel any such thing, and he was certain Mary didn’t either. But maybe – just maybe – there was the beginning of peace.

“I’ll take my leave of you,” he said, setting down the glass.

Mary made no attempt to prevent him from going, and he didn’t expect her to. She followed as he made his way to the door.

“Thank you – for allowing me into your home, and for giving me the chance to apologize.” Erik hesitated, his hand on the door. “May I… May I call you ‘Mary,’ then?”

A faint, exasperated smile crossed her face.

“I suppose I won’t make you call me ‘Ms. Maximoff,’ if that’s what you mean,” she said. “Yes, ‘Mary’ is fine.”

“Alright.” Erik said. “Then, goodbye, Mary.”

He was halfway over the threshold before Mary’s voice stopped him.

“Listen, no matter what’s happened in my life,” she said, “I love my children with all my heart. You’re half the reason that Peter exists. In the grand scheme of things, I guess that counts for something good.”

Erik turned back to her, smiling.

“I may be half the reason he exists,” he said, “But you’re the entire reason he grew up to be a hero.”

It was a little saccharine, but nonetheless true.

“Goodbye, Erik,” Mary said.

Erik closed the door behind him, and stepped out into the day.

[juminly]

i saw that you were doing matchups and omg they are so amazing??? Couldnt help but want 1 for myself hehe, you're such an amaizng writer and you deserve all the recognition you get 💖 may i request an ikevamp matchup?? Thank you so much!! And i hope you're staying healthy and drinking enough water hehe 💖

La Vie en Rose 

PS: The melody of this song captures the sound of the love he feels for you and how peaceful his heart becomes, even when it’s shadowed by the burdens of his past. You can listen to it while you read the below: Gymnopédie No. 3, Lent et Grave by Erik Satie. It was a pleasure writing this matchup story for you 💜

Context: When you arrived at the mansion, anyone could see on your face that you were overwhelmed. There was so much to take in and grasping the idea that you ended up in a mansion filled with vampires wasn’t easy at all. It wasn’t some sort of fantasy, it was reality and you had to accept. In order to make the process easier for you, Sebastian had given you a tour of the mansion, told you about the ins and outs of everything around, while you met the residents one by one. (all under Le Comte’s request)

Just like he does with all his guests, Le Comte invites you for tea, just to get to know you better. The man is a socialite, an elegant handsome man that is the representation of what a true gentleman should be like.

One of the first thing’s he noticed was your preference for coffee instead of tea. After your first “tea break”, Le Comte actually requested him to buy the best coffee he could find so you could choose what you like the most. Every day after that, Sebastian would come to you with a different type of coffee (and it was a bit hard for you to even choose your favourite because they all taste so good [and definitely expensive as hell]).

Le Comte enjoyed being around you in any way he could. He invited you for breakfast and also walked around the gardens of the mansion just to learn more about you. His main goal was to make your stay as pleasant as possible and the more time he spent with you, the faster the pieces fell into place. You were vibrant, a shining light that would grow dimmer, at moments. You were human after all, no, everyone had their limits.

He requested that Mozart teach you how to play the piano (although he looked disgruntled and talked about how his time would be wasted on you, deep down, he was happy and later on discovered that his love for playing would be revived when he saw the smile on your face when you would play well) and Leonard to teach you about any other thing that would across your mind [with the support of Isaac when it came to physics and other sciences as well].

He had laid out all the possibilities before you and you had to choose how you wanted to go about things. Everyone respected your freedom and what you wanted to do with your own time, but somehow, they all still managed to keep you preoccupied (there was always something going on somewhere in that mansion). You would create your own schedule, set up lessons and meetings with the other residents that slowly became your friends. It was all part of Le Comte’s plans.

On days where you didn’t have lessons, Le Comte offered to take you to explore the beauty of Paris. He chuckled when he realized how much of a history fanatic you were. (PS: He laughs more often when he’s with you, the melodious sound is so beautiful, enough to turn heads. He finds your sense of humour a bit peculiar but he can’t resist how light his heart feels when he talks to you [Poor man has centuries-worth of burden on  his heart so the sound of his laughter often turns lots of head]).

He saw how your eyes would shine when you see beautiful things around you: dresses, the jewellry, trinkets etc... He starts taking you shopping more often. He loves seeing you change in and out of dresses and imagines you twirling in it, looking like a work of art. But what was even more beautiful were your eyes and smile, showing true happiness (what he yearns for the most but doesn’t think he deserves it).

He invited you to join him at a ball, wanting you to be his partner. He wanted to hold you in his arms, pressing your body against his and dancing with you. But, you didn’t show up. He waited for a good hour at the entrance of the mansion but you were nowhere in sight.

He came to find you, sitting in your bed, crying (and hyperventilating). He was a smart man and he understood that you sometimes just needed your space. He announced himself softly by calling out your name and settling on the edge of your bed. He asked for your hands, so he could hold them and bring your attention to the soft caresses of his fingers against yours, his thumb running smoothly on your skin. He more than treasures the fact that you consider him close enough to let him be by your side in your hardest/darkest of moments.

He would talk you through your tears, his voice almost hypnotizing and soothing while he comforted you. He would look at your wrists and bring them slowly to his lips, pressing soft kiss upon them while murmuring. “You are enough, princess. You are more than enough and I would like you to always remember that. Listen to my voice and ignore all the voices in your head. Whatever your mind is telling, it’s not true. Let me help you calm your heart, sweet one.” And if you were comfortable enough, he would hold you tightly in his arms, until you tears dried and even big spoons you in bed and talks to you to get your mind off things (and later on, apologizes since he shouldn’t be sleeping in the same bed but these were special circumstances).

He absolutely didn’t mind when you cancel all of a sudden and values your wellbeing above anything else. He understands that your emotions can sometimes run high and being around others can be too much to handle.

He is your equilibrium. It’s a weird thing to say but he reels you in when you feel low, when you get angry or succumb to negativity. You remind him of his old self, before becoming the composed and stoic gentleman that everyone knows.

He started planning makeshift balls, just for the two of you, so you could live the experience of the old Parisian of the century. He took it as an opportunity to teach you how to dance, and would serve the most decadent of delicacies just for you.

When the night would settle in and you would still be awake, rummaging in the library or walking around your room, going through the notes you took of your lessons of the day, Le Comte was obviously concerned for your health. He obviously couldn’t force you to sleep but the least he could do was stay up at night with you, keep you company. [When you were just up at night, unable to sleep, Le Comte would play chess/cards with you.] He would ask you about your day, everything that you learned and watch your face light up. He felt special to be able to glimpse this side of you.

(He found you asleep in the library and the music room a few times and carried you to your bed, cradling you gently in his arms [and inhaling the scent of your hair and your skin].

Sebastian started making you decaf coffee at night so you can unwind but still enjoy the taste of coffee in the nighttime. Le Comte was quite strict with his instructions to the butler, informing him that your health came before anything else.

It was a rare occasion when Leonardo would pick up his violin and play alongside Mozart. He heard you sing in the hallway on the way to your room (and he happened to be passing by) and he felt like he was going to lose himself and the world stood still. He could only hear the harsh drumming of his heart in his ears and he had to retire to his room, earlier than usual.

That same night, you were up very late one night and were looking for Le Comte, your nocturnal companion. He was absolutely nowhere to be found. It was weird but you thought maybe you should just leave him be. You happened to find Leonardo on the balcony and asked him if he’d be willing to play some chess with you and he replied without thinking: “Sorry, Cara Mia. You’re my dear friend’s inamorata. I couldn’t possibly take his place. Go find him.” (Leo being the smooth wingman and all)

It was strange that he would say something like that and there was a flurry of feelings bubbling inside of you: confusion, surprise, anticipation and happiness. (you didn’t necessarily understand Italian but you had a feeling you understood what he said)

You went to his room and knocked on his door once, twice and before you knocked the third time, you heard the click of his shoes on the floor. He seemed sad and almost heartbroken, you didn’t understand why he would look like that and the only thought in your mind was to ask him what was wrong. But then he spoke.

Comte: Will you forgive me, dearest one?

Lia: Comte, there’s nothing to forgive. What are you saying?

Comte: I do not want to be responsible for your sorrow… 

Lia: You’ve never done anything to hurt me. You’ve only made me happy… 

Comte: Gods, please.. I have committed a grave mistake. 

Lia: No, Comte. Please tell me… *you stepped closer to him and looked into his beautiful topaz eyes* Whatever it is that you say, I’ll…

He sealed your lips with his own, letting his loving kiss and his strong embrace convey the words he wanted to say. He loved you so deeply and it consumed his thoughts, his heart and soul. He couldn’t get you out of his mind and knew for a fact that if he fell in love with you, he wouldn’t be able to let you go. He would let you make your own decision, whether to return to your own time or not, because that would be the right thing to do. But deep inside, he would beg you, implore you and weep for you to remain by his side. [He had lost a lover before and doesn’t want history to repeat itself. In his mind, his grave mistake was letting his heart take over and become vulnerable in the face of love. However, he was mistaken. His love for you ran deeper and it was not in his control. Whether he guarded himself or not, you were meant for him and your love for him only proved that to him]

When you became lovers and would be alone together, you call him only by his real name. He doesn’t like to have any formalities between you.

The first he noticed a change in your attitude when you got jealous or acted possessive, his eyes widened only for a split second. He couldn’t really believe it. But to ease your qualms, he would do anything to prove your jealousy wrong. (example: if you were at a ball with him or on the streets, he would take your hand and kiss it or even hold you by the waist and lay the most loving of kisses on your lips).

He reassures you and comforts you whenever he sees a particular frown or gleam in your eyes. It’s that look you get when you’re feeling jealous and possessive (and boy, does it make his heart flutter to know that you feel so strongly about him. Although, this man only has eyes for you. You and only you.)

This man is elegance and eloquence personified. But beware of getting on his bad side. He absolutely cannot tolerate anyone touching you or being physically close to you in any kind of way. He would give them the deadliest glare and would have their heart trembling in fear. Any other action or words were unnecessary. This man could turn into a fierce and fearsome killer in a split second if he wanted to.

He finds your love for sweets absolutely adorable and before you were lovers, he was always tempted to lick the cream/jam from the corner of your lips but would only wipe it off with his handkerchief or when he felt bold, when his thumb (and then suck on it).

Kisses of affection: the inside of your hand, your wrists, your shoulder and your hair/head.

He loves playing with your hair, smelling your hair.

And when you told him that you wanted to stay in the past with him, the expression on his face was one that you could never forget. He cradled your face with gentle hands, his eyes shining with emotion and a wistful yet genuine smile drawn on his lips, whispering softly:  “C’est toi pour moi, et moi pour toi pour la vie…”

PS: (he was hinting that he’s willing to turn you into a vampire. Instead of saying “dans la vie”, just like in the song “La Vie en Rose” by Edith Piaf, the fact that he used the expression “pour la vie” means that he was trying to hint at an eternity spent with you.)

(Very) NSFW Ahead ~

Your first time together, you saw a different Comte and it was as if he wasn’t the same man. What you saw was a man who was driven mad by his desire and he was eating you up with his gaze alone. He was gentle with you but it was all very intense. He treated your body like a temple and he worshipped you like it was his last night on earth before claiming you and joining your bodies, making them one. Sweet words never ceased to leave his lips while he kissed down your neck, sucked on your collarbone and tended to each of your breasts, appreciating the curve of your waist and the dip of your stomach, the width of your hips and the curves of your thighs, the shape of your calves and lastly, the honey between your legs. You reigned over his heart and he treated you like the queen that you were. [Things he said to you on that fateful night: “J’ai envie de toi… Mon amour… Je n’ai besoin que de toi… Donnes-moi tout ce que tu es et je vous donnerai le monde en entier… Je ne veux que toi…”]

He loves it when you beg for him so he sometimes overindulges when he prepares your body for him. You would tell him that you’re ready and wet enough to take him but the man is going to push you to your absolute limit before sinking into you. He wanted to  hear you cry out for him and scream his name, beg for his cock to be inside you.

The one time you looked into his molten gold eyes and whispered seductively “Daddy, please take me”, the man paused for a split second before his lips were crashing into yours and he teased your entrance with his tip, coaxing you to call him Daddy again and again before fucking you. (You thanked the heavens that the resident gentleman of the mansion was such a Daddy behind closed doors [lucky you!)]. 

He loves it when you tie him up and edge him. He wants to ache for you. 

He loves pleasuring you and being pleasured by you. He is a generous giver but also willing to take whatever he can from you and sometimes, aggressively does so (if he’s in a Daddy wants to punish you mood, your mouth is going to be doing lots of work and your body will be wrecked by the end of the night). 

This man’s dirty talk wants to make you weep from its poetic/romantic/eloquent essence. Let me remind you, this man writes smut poetry about you and letters to you (this should be canon). He writes poetry/letters for you and makes you read them while he’s making love to you. With each line you read to him, he’ll come up with another one that makes you melt even more. It’s dirty, it’s filthy but it’s obscenely loving, erotic and romantic. Every time your voice hitches or you lose your breath, he’ll thrust into you harder, making you cry out. “I’m not going to let you cum until you’re finished reading it all, ma belle.” 

His voice is erotic and loves it when you have sessions where you just watch each other pleasures yourselves. Mutual masturbation is one of his kinks and boy, his sultry sexy voice is too arousing and being under the heat of his gaze, you’re a goner. 

Your lover is vocal but he’s not loud though. He voices the pleasure he feels with a range of whiny gasps, sweet moans of your name and rough groans. 

He will bite you everywhere. Mark you with his kisses, licks, nips and with his release too. He’s tried drinking your blood from every possible place in your body but he prefers to take blood from your neck and lace your fingers together when he does (and if it’s during sex, he’ll thrust his fingers in and out of your mouth, mimicking the movement of his hips or he’s restrain you by locking your wrists above your head). 

He’s a pureblood vampire and has the stamina of a Greek God [and looks like you too]. But that doesn’t necessarily apply to you. When you’re feeling lazy, he’ll hold you against him, your back against his chest and allow him to roam your body with his fingers. He’d slip his cock inside you and you both indulge in intimacy you’re basking in. Sometimes, you just want to appreciate each other’s bodies and feel warmth [and he likes to feel your pulse and see the sight of your flushed skin under his touch]. At times, he would roll his hips in languid strokes/thrust inside of you while his fingers that had touched the sweetness dripping between your legs, would press into your mouth and you suck on him lazily. 

Rousing the competitive spirit in you, you had no idea that he had a thing for bets and gambling. What was at stake? Your body or his. He would play strip poker with you and the person who would be completely stripped off their clothes first loses. The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser. Absolutely anything.

All the things he loves to do to/with you in front of the mirror… Hngh..

He’d whisper in your ear and make you look into his eyes while you ride his thigh, while he’s unbuttoning his chemise while keeping one hand on your waist or on your breast (caressing your soft mounds or teasing your nipples). 

When facing the mirror, he usually takes you from behind so you can see every single inch of your body that he plans on touching, caressing and he’ll tease you by letting his cock glide between your lips, stimulate your sensitive bud of nerves just enough to make you tremble and scream out of frustration by not enough for you to reach your climax. And when he’s ready to take you, he’ll grip the back of your knee and spread your knees wide, so you can see how wet you are for him and he’ll remind and ask you, multiple times before he thrusts inside you. “Who’s your Daddy? Hm? Are you going to beg for my cock like the naughty little girl that you are? Tell me how much you want me inside you…” He’ll take you hard and fast, slow and gentle and let you watch his cock thrust in and out of you, ultimately filling you up with his release, his scent all over you and his mark dripping from you.

If you were the one taking control, he loves to watch you slowly undress him in front of the mirror, kiss and mark his neck with love bites and stroke his large cock in your hands (teasing him and edging him) and make him see how he looks like when he loses himself to you. 

Kinks: anything you’re into. This man aims to please and he’s a goddamn vampire. He’s seen the world and most probably tried everything. Praise kink (praising you), Body worship, mutual masturbation, overstimulation and mirror sex would be on the top of his list. He wants you trembling and begging.

Runner-up Suitor: Arthur Conan Doyle! It was such a close race but Mr. Le Comte won! ;) (I hope he won your heart too, after this)

[themadlostgirl]

My Lost Boy

*DONE! Last request so I can finally post my new story! WOO! Never thought I’d get here.*

Prompt: An old crush of Y/N’s comes to the island and Peter may be a tad jealous of the new guy

Requested by: anon

Warnings: language

---

“No.”

“Darling,” Peter sighed, “You need to wake up.”

“No I don’t.” I mumbled as I pressed myself further into Peter’s warm solid body.

“Can you let me go then? I have things to get done today.”

“No you don’t. You’re in charge, you don’t need to do anything.”

“Y/N…”

“Stay. Cozy. Sleepy. Warm.”

“You are impossible in the morning.” Peter gave up trying to get out of our tent and laid back down next to me. “Happy?”

“Mmhm.” I smiled as I nuzzled closer. “You like this better than dealing with Lost Boys. I know you do.”

“That’s because none of them are as pretty as you.”

“So you’re saying that if they were as pretty as me then--”

“Get up!” he tore the blanket off, “If you can be sarcastic than you can also be awake.”

“Are you assuming that I cannot be sarcastic in my sleep?” I finally sat up and cleared the sleep from my eyes. I reached over and ruffled Peter’s bed head. “I have many talents that you don’t know about.”

“I know,” he pulled me closer for a quick kiss, “You’re not that spineless jellyfish that landed here months ago. Whatever happened to that girl?”

“She got to be herself.” I kissed him again, “And I like this version much better.”

“So do I.” We started making out but were interrupted by the boys outside causing a big ruckus. With a sigh and promise to resume this make out session later Peter and I got dressed and headed out to see what was going on.

“What are you idiots shouting about?” I asked the boys.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Felix smirked at Peter and I, “Did we interrupt your morning?”

“Yes.” Peter said.

“A new boy has arrived.” Felix shrugged, “The boys are having fun putting him through the ringer.”

“Ooh, I wanna join!” I skipped off to have fun with the others.

I came upon the boys and jumped into the action as the boys good naturally harassed the new guy with a game of ducking. Basic premise, one or more people have a long stick and take swings at someone in which they have to duck to avoid getting whacked. It was more or less initiation on the island and a game I was very bad at when I first came here.

The boy in the middle seemed to be doing well avoiding the strikes until I stepped up. “Duck!” I shouted playfully before landing a blow right across his shoulder blades. He dropped to the ground and the boys laughed as the new kid squirmed on the ground.

Then he looked up and I froze.

“Erik?”

“Hey,” he stretched as he stood up again, “Do I know you?”

“You don’t remember me?”

“I think I would remember you,” He looked me up and down, “Is there a chance that I met you before?”

“It’s me. Y/N.” His expression didn’t change, “We grew up in the same town.”

“Really?”

“We were neighbors.”

“Distant?”

“No, we lived right next to each other.”

“Are you sure it was me?”

“Yep.” I had the urge to hit him again, “And you are part of the reason I now live here. Guess I should say thanks since it got me out of that hole in the ground I called home. Goodbye, Erik.”

I walked away and cursed my rotten luck. The boy I had a crush on since I was a child is now on the island. All that time I had been pining, hoping and waiting for the day he would notice me, and it turns out he can’t even remember me. It’s not like we never interacted. We weren’t close but I would have thought he’d at least recognize me in some capacity.

It’s probably for the best he doesn’t remember.

“Back already?” Peter saw me approach, “Such a serious face too. Did the new boy hurt your feelings?”

“No. I just know him. We were neighbors before I lived here.” I slipped into the hammock Peter was laying on, “We practically grew up together and he didn’t remember me.”

“How could anyone forget someone like you?” he kissed my cheek. “Is that why you are in such a grumpy mood?”

“I’m not grumpy. A little annoyed but not grumpy.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Y/N, talk to me. Did this boy hurt you? If so I’ll skewer him right now.”

“No. Nothing like that.” I might as well get this over with, “Just remember that you asked me to tell you and that none of this applies now.”

“You’re making me nervous.”

“The new boy, Erik, I may have had a crush on him before I came here. I thought he was cute and would watch him and the other boys play football. I was so nervous around him though that I could never tell him how I felt. One day it dawned on me that he didn’t care about me the way I cared about him if he even knew I existed at all. It broke my heart and I threw that crushed dream onto the mess of disappointment that was my life.”

Peter had gone still. Unnaturally still.

“Peter?” I poked his face, “Were you listening?”

“Yes.” his one eye was twitching just a smidge, “I was listening, intently.”

“What’s this?” I smirked and tried to see his pouting face closer, “Are you jealous?”

“Jealous of what? Some idiot that you used to find attractive? What’s there to be jealous about?”

“Awe, it’s kinda cute,” I pinched his cheek, “There’s no need to be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!” he snapped but the mad blush on his cheeks said otherwise.

“If you say so. It doesn’t even matter. I already told you he doesn’t remember me. He’s basically a stranger at this point.”

“Mm,” Peter got up and started to walk off.

“So dramatic.” I rolled my eyes and continued to swing in the hammock. Maybe I should build an actual swing. Some good strong vines or some rope and a plank of wood and I’d be good to go.

I went into the jungle and started gathering what I needed. Vines and wood were easy to come by and finally it was time to tie it all to a tree.

“Hey there,” Erik saw me wandering around the jungle. “Whatcha got there?”

“Vines and a plank of wood.”

“Why?”

“Making a swing.” I shrugged and continued my search for a decent place to put it.

“Need a hand?”

“I can manage on my own. Thanks though.”

“Are you mad because I don’t remember you?”

“I don’t care that you don’t remember me, Erik. It was a long time ago. Just forget I had said anything.”

“Can’t. Since you brought it up it’s only been nagging at me.”

I found a good spot and started to climb the tree to tie off the vines. “You climb pretty well for a girl.”

“Gods above why did I ever like you?” I muttered to myself. How is climbing a tree exclusive to boys? Answer? It isn’t.

“You like me?”

“How did--” I groaned, “No! I don’t like you. Not anymore.”

“Oh my god,” he rushed up the tree next to me, “I remember you! It just hit me! You were that dirty little girl that lived in that tiny shack beside my house. I’d catch you staring at me all the time and you’d leave wildflowers on my bedroom window. I thought you were too quiet and weird to pay attention to so I tried to ignore you in hopes that you would leave me alone.”

“Wow. You’re an actual asshole.” I shoved him away from me, “A girl has a crush on you so your idea of dealing with it is to blatantly ignore her?”

“You have to admit it was pretty annoying.”

“No, Erik, you are annoying.” I tied off the other vine before sliding it down to the ground again.

“You don’t need to get so mad.” He climbed down after me, “I mean, look at you now. You’re so wild and brazen. I didn’t think the girl that couldn’t articulate a sentence without stammering around me would ever call me an asshole. It’s refreshing.”

“Joy of joys.” I wormed the vines through the holes in the plank I made. “Will you leave me alone now? I’d like to work in peace.”

“Let me do that for you.”

“No! Go away!” I snapped at him. “I can make a swing by myself just fine.”

“Got some bite to you now.” He leaned in closer, “What else about you has changed?”

A force sent Erik hurtling back across the ground like a tumbleweed in the wind. I looked behind me and saw Peter standing there.

“Hi,” I jumped up, “What are you doing here?”

“Passing by and...well…”

“You were spying on me to make sure Erik didn’t try anything because you’re a jealous boy, weren’t you?”

“Idiot.” he pinched my nose playfully.

“Your idiot.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, “Do you like my swing?”

“Excuse me!” Erik was up again. “Who in the hell are you?”

“Ugh,” I rolled my eyes, “Peter, this is the new kid, Erik. Erik, this is Peter Pan. He’s the ruler of the island.”

“And Y/N’s lover so if you would kindly stop drooling all over her that would be much obliged.” Peter held me closer as if to emphasize his point.

“I knew you were jealous!” I laughed, “Your first word to the new kid is calling me your lover? How territorial of you.”

“Territorial?” he grinned in a way that made my stomach flip. “You wanna see territorial?”

“Peter, don’t you--” And it was too late. I was pinned to the nearest tree with Peter ravishing my mouth and molding himself against me in the span of two seconds.

This really wasn’t fair. I wanted to continue our make-out from this morning but I was hoping to not have an audience.

If it didn’t feel so nice I may have found a shred of embarrassment but in the moment all I could do was kiss him back. When Peter pulled away I was breathless and dazed and Erik was nowhere in sight.

“I think he got the point.” Peter looked back at me, “He won’t be bothering you again.”

“Maybe I should let him.” I pulled Peter back in, “If I can get a kiss like that out of jealousy he may just be worth hanging around.”

“Har har har, you are hilarious,” he left a kiss on my forehead, “He’s an idiot that didn’t understand what he could have had until it was too late. Lucky for me though, I knew what I had all along.”

“And it is a good thing you did. I like you a lot more than I ever liked him.” I may have called out the sappy line if it didn’t make me feel so unabashedly happy at the same time. My Lost Boy.

[alice-beaumont-ravenclaw]

A Wonderful Surprise

A/N #1: This is fic #2 of the Brazil series. It was inpired by the ! prompt of the 30 days OTP alphabet challenge as well as Prompt #2 of Fictober 2020 by @hphm-fictober​ . You can find Alice’s outfit HERE, and the suggested music HERE. (Here are Part 1 & Part 2 of the first fic of the series.)

“Alanza told me she would join us here.”

Alice and her friends were standing near the bronze statue of Floriano Peixoto, the second Brazilian president, in the neighbourhood known as Cinelândia. They were surrounded by buildings built in the Beaux-Arts architectural style, which gave the area a certain European cachet with their columns, symmetry, and highly decorative façades. 

“Are you sure about the time?” asked Diego.

“Noon seems like an odd time to meet up,” said Penny, who was wearing a large sunhat.

“That’s what she told me. She said she knew of this place where we could eat lunch close to here, and that it would be simpler to visit the area after,” explained Alice, fanning herself with her map of Rio.

“Olá!” they heard from behind them.

“Alanza!” they exclaimed, running to her.

“How are you? I hope you didn’t wait too long,” she said beaming.

“No, not at all,” said Barnaby, blushing.

“Long enough for us to overheat,” mumbled Tonks and Tulip.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! Come, come. Let’s go and eat. I know this boteco that’s been around since 1921.”

“What kind of food do they serve?” asked Alice.

“Various stuff. You can get pizza, fish, churrasco, feijoada…”

“What are the last two things?” asked Penny.

“Well, churrasco is basically meat barbecued on skewers, while feijoada has black beans, some pork or beef product, and at least two types of smoked sausage and jerked beef,” explained Alanza.

“Black beans, you say?” said Alice. “Well, as I do not want to spend the afternoon passing wind, and that I don’t want to eat something too heavy, I think I’ll stick to pizza.”

“The meat on skewers sounds great,” said Barnaby as they sat at a table under the yellow awning. 

After a hearty meal, they headed to the Theatro Municipal, a theatre that borrowed from the Parisian Opéra Garnier’s architectural style. The roof was a vibrant shade of turquoise, and the central dome was adorned with a majestic golden eagle.

“Can we go inside?” asked Andre, using his hand to shade his eyes from the sun.

“Unfortunately, no. We can only go in to see a performance or if we are part of a tour, which were all full when I checked,” replied Alanza.

“Too bad. It looks really nice from the outside, would have loved to see the inside,” said Alice.

“Oh, I doubt it compares to the Paris Opera,” said Alanza. 

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been inside the Opéra Garnier.”

“What? But don’t you have family in Paris?” asked Tulip.

“I do, but it’s not like the law mandates us to go inside the Opera every time we’re in town. I walked past it when I’ve been to the Galeries as a kid, but until last summer, I hadn’t been to Paris after Jacob’s disappearance.”

“I wonder if this one has a ghost, like the one in Paris,” said Penny.

“A ghost?” asked Barnaby and Charlie as they started to walk past the theatre.

“A phantom, actually. This French author wrote a story at the beginning of the century about a Phantom haunting the Opéra. It turns out that the Phantom is a deformed man named Erik. An excellent musical was made based on this story. I honestly could listen to the soundtrack over and over again,” said Alice, softly sighing.

“So, where are we heading next?” asked Tonks as they strolled through Largo da Carioca.

“Igreja São Francisco de Penitência. It’s a church. The interior is really impressive,�� said Alanza.

“Where is it?” asked Diego.

“Right there,” replied Alanza, pointing to a building up a small hill.

“Doesn’t look super impressive from the outside,” said Andre.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover, Andre,” said Alice, nudging her friend on the shoulder.

“Oh, sweetheart, everyone judges books by their cover. Why do you think I put so much importance in my outfits, as well as yours?”

“Believe me, the exterior doesn’t do justice to the interior,” said their Carioca friend as they made their way up the stairs to reach the church.

When they finally made it inside the church, they were greeted by exquisite gilded carvings on the walls and altars, as well as magnificent paintings on the ceiling depicting the glorification of Saint Francis in a Baroque illusionist style.

“Wow,” simply said Andre, his mouth ajar.

“So much gold,” said Tulip.

“Good thing we didn’t bring Jae. He’d be salivating,” said Tonks.

“He’d probably try to take something to sell it,” said Penny as she removed her hat.

“Come on. He’s not that bad,” said Alice as she looked at the ceiling.

“Are you so sure of that?” asked Charlie, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at Alice.

“Well… Ok, maybe not, but he mostly deals in magical contraband, so I don’t think he would see anything here worth selling,” admitted Alice.

“I wouldn’t put it past him to still try and make a quick buck from something here,” whispered Diego.

“Is it common for Muggle churches to be covered in gold?” asked Barnaby.

“Can’t say I’ve ever seen a Catholic church with so much gold. Russian Orthodox churches have their fair share, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen this amount of gold in a church,” said Alice, looking around. 

“How do you know so much about churches?” asked Diego.

“I’ve seen some when I travelled with my parents when I was a kid. Even if you aren’t religious, churches can be of cultural interest, as artists were often commissioned to paint and decorate them to show how grand and powerful the Church was,” explained Alice.

“And if you didn’t already know, Alice is in Ravenclaw,” said Tonks, Alice sticking out her tongue at her.

“Hey, where did Charlie go?” asked Andre.

“He’s right…” started saying Alice as she looked beside her, only to see no one was standing there. She turned on herself trying to spot her boyfriend, to no avail.

“Hum, I think he went outside,” said Diego. “He found it stuffy in here.”

“Why didn’t he tell me? I should go with him,” said Alice. 

Before she could turn around, Diego wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her further inside the church. “Come on; I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to miss all the art in here.”

Alice gave Diego a suspicious look, furrowing her brows, before glancing behind her. She figured that if Charlie had wanted her to be with him, he would have told her. She shook Diego’s arms off of her shoulders and joined the girls at the altar, where Tulip was busy imagining Dennis getting married to the love of his life. Once they were done visiting the church, they went back outside, where Charlie was waiting for them in the shade.

“Are you ok?” asked Alice as she ran up to him.

“What do you mean?”

“Diego told us you went out because you felt it was stuffy in the church…”

“Oh! Yeah, I just needed some air, but I’m perfectly fine now.”

“Glad to hear you’re feeling better, mate,” said Andre as they made their way down the stairs.

“Ok, next up is a sweet treat: pastéis de nata. And it will give us the chance to relax a bit and step away from the heat,” said Alanza.

“Hum, actually, you guys can go ahead. We’ll join you later. There’s something I want to show Alice,” said Charlie, taking Alice’s hand.

She looked up at him, her cheeks turning pink.

“Ok, you two have fun!” said Diego as he guided the rest of the group away from the couple.

“We’ll be at the Confeitaria Colombo!” shouted Alanza as Alice and Charlie walked away.

They left the street they were on, taking a narrow road to lead them to the larger Rua Sete de Setembro.

“Where are you taking me?” asked Alice as she let Charlie lead the way.

“You’ll see,” simply replied Charlie.

“Is it what you and Diego were talking about yesterday?” asked Alice.

Charlie stopped in his tracks and looked at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Diego was looking for you yesterday before lunch, and he went straight to talk to you when I told him where you were. Also, you two looked like you were cooking up some plan last night at dinner,” said Alice as they started walking again.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” replied Charlie, avoiding Alice’s gaze.

“Ah! I knew it! You were planning something with Diego!” said Alice as they turned into a small deserted street next to an old theatre. “Seriously, where are you taking me?” she said, looking worriedly around.

They crossed a plaza and stopped in front of a building built in limestone that looked like a church. Four statues were on the façade: one on each side of the building, and the other two were on each side of the door. Before she had time to read what was written at the top of the building, Charlie took both of her hands and made her look at him. 

“Close your eyes,” he said, smiling.

Alice looked at him, skeptically.

“Please,” he pleaded.

She furrowed her brows, smiling lightly as she closed her eyes after removing her sunglasses. He waved a hand in front of her closed eyes to make sure she wasn’t looking. He gently took her hand and guided her inside the building.

“You can open your eyes now,” said Charlie as he stood behind her.

Alice opened her eyes and what she saw rendered her speechless. Three floors of walls covered in books. A magnificent chandelier dangled from the ceiling, which also had a skylight in iron structure. The intricate details of the wooden frame of the library’s galleries were sublime. Alice felt like she was in a dream. Sure, Hogwarts’ library was big, but it was dark, a little gloomy, and unwelcoming; Madam Pince having a lot to do with that last impression. This library was luminous. The blue walls contrasting with the wood’s darkness and the touches of gold on the wood contributed to Alice’s warm feeling as she stood in this great library.

“Oh, Charlie,” whispered Alice, turning around, the skirt of her dress twirling as she did so. 

“You like it?” asked Charlie as Alice wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Like it? I love it!” she said before kissing him on the lips, her straw hat falling backward.

Charlie placed his hands on her waist, closing his eyes as he leaned into the kiss until he realized something. He opened his eyes and cleared his throat.

“What?” asked Alice as she took a step back.

“Hum… there are people around…” whispered Charlie, looking around the room.

Alice turned her head, noticing some people looking at them as her face grew hot.

“Sorry,” she mouthed before looking back at Charlie. “Let’s take a look around,” she whispered as she grabbed her hat from the floor.

They walked around the bookcases on the ground floor, looking at all the old books’ spines. They didn’t dare touch any, as they felt the gaze of the librarian on their back.

“I guess every library comes with a Madam Pince,” whispered Alice.

“I guess kissing in a library won’t get you on the librarian’s good books,” said Charlie, looking behind him. “Anyway, it’s not like we can read anything here. Everything seems to be in Portuguese. We should go back to the others… Alice! What are you doing?”

Alice held a book in her hand while holding her wand over a page with the other. “Shhh, be quiet. It’s just this book had ‘Contos de fadas brasileiros’ written on it.”

“But it’s in Portuguese! And your wand…”

“I need it to use a translation spell Rowan taught me.”

“Taught you? When?”

“Well, she didn’t actually teach it to me in person. I just found it on a note in a book she read,” explained Alice as she read the page her wand was hovering over.

“Quick,” said Charlie, as he looked behind them, “the librarian is coming.”

Alice closed the book and promptly replaced it on the shelf as she surreptitiously slid her wand back into her crossbody handbag. “Obrigada,” said Alice, turning to face the librarian with a sweet smile, her angelic face seemingly calming any worries the librarian had as the couple swiftly left the library.

“That was a close call,” said Charlie once they were outside. “Anyway, what did you say to the librarian?”

“I simply said ‘thank you.’”

“Why?”

“Because it’s polite and one of the few things I can say in Portuguese,” explained Alice as they made their way back to the Rua Sete de Setembro. “Figured something polite, and my sweet face would get her off our backs.”

They leisurely made their way to the Confeitaria Colombo, holding hands and talking about their vacation so far. As they approached it, they saw their friends leaving the restaurant.

“Here are the two lovebirds!” exclaimed Tulip.

“We got some custard tarts to go when we figured you wouldn’t be back in time,” said Penny, holding up a small plastic bag.

“They were delicious!” said Barnaby, rubbing his stomach as he smiled.

“Mate, you have some coloured lip balm on your lips,” pointed out Andre, smirking.

“So I guess Alice liked her surprise,” said Diego, grinning.

Charlie used the back of his hand to wipe off the lip balm as he and Alice blushed.

“Wait, did you two abandon us just to make out somewhere?” asked Tonks.

“What? No! We visited a library!” exclaimed Alice.

“A library? Why would you visit a library instead of eating custard tarts? Are you trying to cover up for the fact that you did spend all that time making out?” asked Tulip, her face inches from Alice’s as she looked at her suspiciously.

“No, they did go to a library: The Real Gabinete Português de Leitura, or Royal Portuguese Reading Room,” explained Diego, making Alanza wince at his Portuguese pronunciation. “The two Argentinian girls I spoke to yesterday said it was a really nice place to see, so I told Charlie he should take Alice there.”

“Wait, when you left the church…” started saying Alanza.

“I went to locate the library, make sure I had the right directions,” completed Charlie.

“Aw, all that for Alice… Makes me sick,” said Tonks, sticking out her tongue in fake disgust.

“Jealous,” said Alice, lightly nudging her friend.

“You wish,” replied Tonks, linking her arm with her friend’s. “Now, come on. We’re supposed to go see a royal palace.”

“Actually, it is the Imperial Palace,” explained Alanza as they made their way down the street. “It became the prince regent of Portugal’s residence when he moved here with his family to escape Napoleon’s invasion of Portugal. It is at that time that Rio became the royal seat of power.”

“Bloody French,” said Tonks, smirking as she glanced at Alice. 

“He wasn’t French, he was Corsican, and his ancestors were Italian,” said Alice.

“But he was the emperor of France, no?”

“For, like, ten years.”

“His army was French?”

“Yes…”

“Therefore, I reiterate what I said: Bloody French,” said Tonks, sticking out her tongue.

“Stop bickering, you two,” said Andre. “As long as I get to see a palace, I’m happy.”

“We are not bickering. We are having a friendly conversation,” said Tonks and Alice in unison, making Alanza raise her eyebrows and look around in confusion.

“Don’t ask. That’s how they are,” explained Penny to Alanza, rolling her eyes.

When they finally arrived at the Imperial Palace, what stood in front of them was a white three-storey building in a simple baroque style with a tiled roof. 

“That’s it?” asked Tulip.

“Well, it has its charms,” said Alice.

“There are some details around the windows,” said Penny.

“It is not what Europeans think of when they hear ‘Imperial Palace,’” pointed out Alanza.

“Thank Merlin, you see it too! I mean, it’s lovely, sure, but it’s no Versaille or Buckingham. Please tell me it’s like that golden church, and the interior is grand,” said Andre with pleading eyes.

“Unfortunately, no. It was stripped at the end of the 19th century and became a central mail office. It mostly serves as a cultural center nowadays, with temporary art exhibitions.”

“Then why is it called the Imperial Palace?” asked Barnaby.

“Because when Brasil became independent, it became the Império do Brasil, or Empire of Brasil,” explained Alanza. “When it was the Portuguese royal family’s residence, it was known as the Royal Palace. Before that, it was the house of the Governor.”

“How come you know so much?” asked Tulip.

“She’s from around here,” said Diego.

“Alice, you live in London. Do you know who first lived in Buckingham Palace?”

“Hum, no?”

“See! I live in London as well, and I don’t know the history of any buildings, except the Tower of London because executions,” pointed out Tulip. 

“Alright, when Alice told me you wanted to visit the historic part of Centro, I may have studied up on my Trouxa history. The map I have with me is full of my notes,” she said, showing the scribbles on her map.

“Trouxa?” asked Barnaby.

“People who can’t do magic.”

“Ah! We call them Muggles,” said Charlie.

“So, as much as standing in the sun learning about cultural differences is fun, what is next?” asked Penny.

“Well, that’s pretty much it. Next up for you is to head back to the hotel to relax, so you are ready for tomorrow’s hike,” said Alanza.

“Hike?!” said Alice and Penny.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any outfits that are intended for nature,” said Andre.

“I was actually planning to go to the National History Museum tomorrow, since it’s free on Sundays,” said Alice.

“Says the rich girl,” said Tonks.

“Rich people are notoriously cheap,” replied Alice.

“But I don’t want to go to a stuffy museum,” complained Tulip.

“We can separate for the day. You guys can go hike in nature, while Penny, Andre, and I go to the museum.”

“Will there be dragons on that hike?” asked Charlie.

“Charlie. Always asking the important questions,” said Diego.

“Hum, no, sorry,” replied Alanza.

“Meh, then I’ll go to the museum with Alice.”

“Are you sure? There won’t be any dragons in the museum either,” said Alice.

“No, but you’ll be there,” replied Charlie, making Alice blush.

“Ok! I think this is our cue to head back to the hotel before those two start snogging in front of the palace,” said Tulip as she ran towards the street to hail two cabs.

“Well, see you tomorrow then! Tchau!” said Alanza waiving to the group as they joined Tulip.

A/N #2: Hope you enjoyed it! Next up: the museum, where I will describe every single exhibit they see... Joking. Anyway, just wanted to let you know something regarding the Imperial Palace. So, in the fic, Alanza said they interior is rather ordinary, it’s mostly based on pictures of the interior. According to Culture Trip, “in 1980 it was restored to its former glory with the interior replicated to how it was in the 19th century.” Unfortunately couldn’t find any information regarding the current state of the interior.

[gold-from-straw]

Divergence - ch10

I've been planning to add the second half of this chapter for a long time (only just managed it now, hence the late upload lol! it's still officially Friday where I am!) But a conversation with @interplanetarygirl really helped to get me into Francis' mindset for the realisation he has (similar to Charles' realisation about his own past a couple of chapters ago) so THANK YOU!! 

Read from the beginning on Ao3 if you like!

“Good!” said Erik. “Twenty more.”

Francis slumped, breathless, and Erik tugged him up sharply by the eyelets on his boxing gloves. “You need stamina,” Erik said. His voice was sharp and hard, but Francis could feel the steady hum of affection underneath that made Francis feel safe, the way he never had even with the honeyed words of Father’s friends and colleagues.

He was also devastatingly attractive for an older man. Francis set his teeth and threw punch after punch at the bag until it swayed and jerked.

“Well done,” Erik said, when he’d counted down from twenty. He beckoned and started unlacing Francis’ gloves. “Flex your hands. Fine. Looks good. Go and have a shower and tell me if they start hurting or anything - you want to get stronger, not damage yourself. Tomorrow we’ll do some more on reactions and sparring.”

The sense of satisfaction and pride from Erik that Francis was basking in suddenly flared into something almost overwhelming, bone-deep and infinite, when Erik looked past Francis to the doorway. There was nothing more than a faint smile to betray the love pouring off him.

“Charles,” said Erik. “Finally decided to take me up on my offer of training, have you?”

Charles smiled. “Only if you’re prepared to be beaten at your own game.”

Erik laughed and threw Francis’ gloves at Charles and walked towards him. Francis was all but forgotten as Erik started to lace Charles up.

Charles had much better shields than Erik, of course. But even so, as Erik brushed his thumbs over Charles’ wrist, Francis caught the blast of emotion from Charles, a flash of intense love, a connection that bound the two men together.

Francis turned away, half envious, half embarrassed. He wondered, for the first time, about the Erik Lehnsherr back in his own universe, whether it was possibly for someone to love him as much as this Erik and Charles loved each other.

He was lost in thought on the walk back, so almost didn’t notice Arthur. “Hi, Francis,” he said quietly.

Francis jumped and blinked at his younger self, sitting like a pixie on a stone window seat. “Hi,” he said cautiously. “Are you OK?”

Arthur nodded, his chin still pressed against his knees.

Francis licked his lips. He had no idea how to deal with children, but he could feel the vague, cautious tendrils leaking out from the little boy. “Did Charles block your telepathy off?” he asked.

Arthur nodded. “He’s been teaching me how to build my shields myself, but I’m not good enough to do it on my own yet.” He looked down, twisting his lips.

“Well, that’s OK,” Francis said quickly. He had a sudden vivid memory of sitting outside his father’s room for hours, kicking his heels and singing quietly, hoping for even the smallest scrap of attention. “Hey… I’ve got to have a shower, but do you want to do some drawing afterwards, or something?”

“Really?” said Arthur, hope sparkling through his emotions.

“Sure,” Francis smiled. “Come on, you can wait in my room until I’m ready.”

Arthur scrambled down from his perch and practically skipped along beside Francis. He smiled down at him, amused and suddenly quite aware that he was feeling the same warmth he got when Raven asked him a question, or followed him, or flopped onto the seat next to him and snuggled up.

Raven, he thought, the warmth fading. What would she be doing right now? What would she do without him there?

Not that Raven couldn’t take care of herself – she’d been doing so for years before he met her, but she shouldn’t have to! That was the point! Francis loved looking after her… if he was honest with himself, it gave him purpose, and now…

He glanced down at Arthur, who smiled up at him, open and hopeful and still trusting. That trust hadn’t quite been beaten out of him yet.

But it wouldn’t be this time, would it? He was surrounded by people who actually cared about him, and who wanted to look after him.

He closed the bathroom door behind him, leaving Arthur in his room, and poked at the fading bruises on his ribs. All these people… they wanted to look after Francis, too, he could tell even without reading their minds. But it didn’t feel right when he imagined himself coddled and cared for and protected – that was his job. He was the protector. He was the one who took the punches and worked out how to hide Raven’s mutation and what lies to tell to people who asked too many questions or pushed himself to get the data his father had wanted.

He wasn’t a kid any more, after all, not like Arthur.

But then… he wasn’t an adult either, not like Charles.

He showered quickly, trying not to think of Raven and the life he’d left behind. Did he want to go back there, getting punched every time he moved wrong, every time he said something annoying? Of course not! But… wasn’t it the right thing to do?

He didn’t have the answer by the time he came out of the steaming bathroom, drying his hair roughly on a towel. Arthur was sitting on the very edge of his bed, completely still and formal, and Francis stopped, his throat suddenly aching. He remembered doing the same in his mother’s room, hoping that maybe this time he’d be good enough and neat enough and perfect and well-behaved enough to gain her affection – even just her attention.

He pushed it away, folded it up in a box like those he’d glimpsed from time to time in Erik’s mind. Put it aside and didn’t let himself think too hard as he walked over to Arthur and ruffled his hair. “What do you want to draw first, then?”

Arthur’s face split into a brilliant smile. “I’ve been thinking about that! I want to draw everyone. I want to draw you and me and Charles first, and then Erik and Moira and Alex. And Sean and me together making tacos! And Raven and Hank and then maybe I’ll draw another picture of Alex shooting those lights out of his chest and you fighting with Erik.”

He sucked in a breath suddenly, as if he’d forgotten that was a thing a person has to do in between sentences, and Francis laughed. “Well, we’d better get busy then, hadn’t we? I’m afraid I don’t have any colours, but there’s plenty of paper in a drawer over here, and pens and pencils too. Why don’t you get started while I get dressed?”

Arthur nodded and slipped off the bed, finding his supplies and kneeling on the chair to get a good view of his paper as he bent over it and started to draw big circle heads. Francis took his pieces of paper over to the window seat and crossed his legs, propping the paper on a textbook he’d found gathering dust under the bed.

“Francis,” said Arthur, still looking at his drawing. “Do you remember being me?”

Francis put his doodle to one side and leaned back. “Yes, I suppose. Some parts of it more than others, of course, but yes.”

“So I’m really going to turn into you?”

Francis considered this for a moment. “Partly? But remember you’re in a different world now. You’ll grow up differently – our timelines have diverged, I suppose.”

Arthur bit his lip and hesitated, then put his pen down. He still didn’t look at Francis. “Can you tell me…”

Francis waited a moment, but Arthur seemed to be struggling for words. “What’s on your mind?” he asked. “Would you like me to look?”

He slumped slightly and nodded. “Yes please.”

Francis lifted his fingertips to his temple and slipped into Arthur’s thoughts much easier than any other mind he’d ever been into. It was still like flowing downstream, like two water droplets merging, though now he had to move a little more deliberately, take a certain path, since Charles had built walls around him to block out noise.

He saw himself in Arthur’s mind, his eye swollen shut like it had been the day they both arrived, and arranged around him in every direction was every fear Arthur had about it, ever possible way he thought Francis had misbehaved to earn the punch.

“You want to avoid being hurt,” Francis said, and swallowed hard.

Arthur nodded and bit his lip. “Please?”

He laughed dryly. “I’m not very good at it, as you can tell.” Arthur’s face dropped, and Francis frowned, hurrying to reassure him. “But I’m sure you’ll be fine here – none of them seem the type to hit a child.”

“Yes, but I’ll be grown up soon, and then if I do something wrong they might hit me too. What did you do to get hit?”

Francis thought back and tried to stop himself flinching from the memories. “This time… I can’t quite… oh yes! I’d worn a hole in one of my shoes, that was it.”

Arthur cocked his head. “Don’t you have much money anymore?”

“No, it’s not like that, it’s… well, Kurt Marko – he’s the man who married Mother after Father died – he’s…” A bastard. “He doesn’t like spending money on me. He says I waste it.” He snorted to himself. He knew very well what Marko thought good use of the money would be. He also knew how frustrated he was that Francis’ mother wasn’t hurrying up and dying of liver failure from all the drinking. Francis stared out of the window, his mood darkening.

“So… I shouldn’t ask for things, and then I’ll be safe?”

Francis frowned and turned back to Arthur, swinging his feet down off the seat and leaning forward. “No, that’s not…”

He had a thought in that moment, a mental image of Kurt grabbing Arthur and throwing him into the wall. Only it wasn’t just a thought, it was a memory. Francis had only been eight, still grieving his father, still hoping that this new man in his life would care for him in some way, and Kurt had picked him up by his arm and thrown him. He couldn't even remember why.

Francis saw that happening to Arthur.

“Listen,” he said, holding Arthur’s gaze very seriously. “Anyone who hits you is wrong and bad. They don’t do it for any good reason, there’s nothing you can do or change about yourself that will keep you safe because it’s not your fault, you hear? It’s them. It’s anyone who wants to hurt you.”

“But…”

“You’ve got to let Charles take care of you. And Erik, and Sean and… probably everyone in this house, I think. But you have to hold onto that, Arthur. Anyone who hurts you is doing something very bad.”

Arthur nodded his head, uncertainty clear in his mind and his body language. Francis sighed and walked over to him, holding out his arms for a hug. Arthur snuggled in, his head just up to Francis’ ribs.

He’d been that small once. He’d wondered what he’d done wrong, and it had never been him at all.

For the first time, Francis considered going back to his own universe angry.

Tagging everyone who interacted with the last chapter! (also the permanent tag list of @insertmeaningfulusername, @mathmusicreading and @kungpao-giffy!) @vivavelle, @gerec, @kernezelda, @xcziel, @thechaoticwave, @paramecie, @goneadrift, @hufflehappenings, @kyotoagnes, @these-maginot-lines, @lyricfulloflight, @librodice, @unspokenhatred, @fullmetalcarer, @fxngsfogxarty (I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your message!! Thank you so much!!), @bugy-boo, @tteabea, @mnemo-ink, @deathzpells, @azulso, @dorianpink, @rainbow-door, @ketchavies-thoorrrr666, @kaeden4, @mykarush, @auri-moon, @thepaintingsafake, @ikeracity, @youurelovely, @pahisluuseri, @iwillshipyouman, @pumpkinspicedshane, @i-have-drowned-in-books

[thecorteztwins]

And now for this week’s installment of Alt-Marauders stuff! Tagging @sammysdewysensitiveeyes and @littlemeangreen since I know you guys like it. This week it’s: “Building Character” - Shinobi/Sebastian “Daddy’s Girl” -Manon/Sebastian “Flames” - Pyro/Alice “First Resort” - Sebastian/Haven “Human” -Haven/Madelyne

“BUILDING CHARACTER” (Warning: References to child abuse, and no apologies for it) It was evening at Blackstone, and its occupants were there for the first time in two weeks spent seafaring. “I had my reservations about giving you another chance,” Sebastian admitted, standing by the sitting room window, looking out over his domain, “But you’ve done well.” Shinobi hated himself for the pride and happiness that flooded through him at his father’s words. He was still so weak, so dependent on this man’s approval, the same man he hated so much, the man that MADE him like this. “We’ve done well,” he replied in apparent calm, “We’ve not attempted to kill each other, for instance.” His father turned his head and grinned at him, “Oh, I’m sure you have something up your sleeve for me sooner or later. And of course, I’m prepared for when you do.” “I thought about it,” Shinobi admitted matter-of-factually, “But what would it even matter now? You’d just come back. “I did before Krakoa. So did you. Twice, I believe,” Sebastian moved from the window and sat down in the chair across from his son now, “I used to think Shaws were just exceptionally hardy stock, but I’ve learned it seems to be a strange feature of mutants as a species.” “Yet you still worry I’ll off you?” Another smile from Sebastian, almost indulgent, “Oh, I’m not worried. I’m actually rather eager to see how you try to get around the resurrection issue. Trap me somewhere, perhaps, but ensure that I won’t starve or suffocate wherever I am? You were never a bright boy, Shinobi, and I’m sure your lifestyle choices haven’t helped with that---not that I’m judging you, we all have our wild oats to sow---but I’m hoping this new obstacle will start stimulating whatever brain cells you have left. Adversity builds character, didn’t I always tell you that?” “Yeah, mostly after you hit me.” In most families there would be an awkward silence after that. Shinobi was in fact hoping for it, hoping for any sign of shame in his father. Of course he didn’t get it. Sebastian reacted as if Shinobi had said ‘after you took me to a baseball game’ or anything else innocuous and normal in the life of an average father and son...whatever that was. Shinobi only had ideas from television. Although it seemed some stuff his dad did was normal, if Homer choking the life out of Bart on the regular was any indication of standard reality. “Exactly. You had to find some way to stop me from doing that, ideally by improving yourself so I would no longer have reason, though I’d have settled for almost anything else after a certain point so long as it worked,” said Sebastian. Then his tone turned regretful...but not for the reasons a normal person would, “You never did though. I’ve given up on very little in my life, Shinobi, but...” “But you gave up on pummeling me.” “I couldn’t shape you into something better. I realize that now. Only you can do that. And look? Now you are.” “Oh right you were beating me for MY SAKE,” said Shinobi, the bitter venom he felt inside finally beginning to seep out into his now-biting tone. “Yes, but also you just irritated me,” Sebastian said, and there was no bitterness in his, no venom, and no shame, “People seldom have a single motive, even a simple man such as I.” “Simple?” Shinobi did not expect his father to describe himself in such a word. “I never had grand ideals of Xavier and Erik, never wanted to herd an entire planet into my way of thinking. I was only ever concerned with what anyone should be---my own success. Which I achieved. Whereas their dreams are still unrealized, for all their efforts and claims.” “So why care about my success then?” Shinobi asked. And it was a good question, for it gave his father pause. A long pause. Shinobi knew that look on his father’s face---his father was thinking, and hard. And he wasn’t coming to an answer quickly either. “I can’t say it’s affection,” Sebastian finally answered, “You and I both know what a ridiculous notion that would be. Maybe the hope you’d be useful to me, but...” He trailed off, sounding doubtful. Shinobi wished it was that though, because being useful to his father would imply he had worth, his father needed him, the man he’d idolized---jeesus it made him choke even to think of that---would need him. Shinobi wanted that. “...but I doubt that, I’ve never relied on anyone, you know me,” Sebastian picked up again, “I’d rather have an ally I can cut ties with easily with need be, not someone so attached to me as a son. Grooming children as tools was always more Emma’s practice; I never had the patience for it, or the time. I suppose there is some kind of personal attachment--” Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck did he dare hope no he must be lying he must be “---to the notion of legacy. Krakoa or not, I’m not going to live forever, and I’d like what I’ve accomplished to pass into hands related to my own, as illogical and sentimental as nepotism is. But I refuse for them to be unworthy of it.” Shinobi’s hopes sunk back down their proper place. Of course. Of course that was it. His money, his business, his power base---those were what he cared about. that was his child, his real child, and he was just looking for someone with his DNA to care for it after his death. Well, you know what? “I’m going to be,” Shinobi said. And it wasn’t a promise. It was a threat. And his father knew that. And it made him smile. *** “DADDY’S GIRL” (Warning: Casual use of mind control/memory manipulation and no one treating it as bad.) It was a bad situation. The spies sent to Krakoa, spies who were mutants but still owed their allegiances to the American, had been caught. And caught by the Marauders, no less. Negotiations were underway for their safe return, but unfortunately, the Council member they were speaking to was Sebastian Shaw. And he was not in a forgiving mood. ”They’ve already been telepathically wiped, of course,” he said over the phone to the negotiator, “So it’s no matter to us if we give them back to you or not. But, why should we? They are Krakoan citizens. Even if they committed to that citizenship with false intentions, they still are OUR people, and they have committed treason. And you know what the traditional punishment for that is...” ”Please, Mr. Shaw, see reason!” the negotiator pleaded on the other end of the phone in the White House office. “They are American citizens as well, and employees of the American government! Any action against them will be seen as an act of hostility!” ”And sending them into our midst was NOT an act of hostility?” Shaw returned very calmly, but very dangerously. It was a tone that made the negotiator think very, very carefully about what his next words would be. And then he felt a tug on his sleeve. He looked down to see one of the Marauders, who were overseeing the negotiations going on. After the spies had been caught on Krakoa, they’d come IMMEDIATELY to make sure that no reinforcements would be sent. It just went to show how ruthless mutants were, that they would send CHILDREN on a team like that. In this case, a little girl, with pigtails and Wednesday Addams dress. She’d have been adorable, if not for her ghostly albinistic coloring and strange eyes. “Put me on!”  she chirped, “He will listen to me, I’m his daughter!” The negotiator stared at her. Well, he was all out of ideas, so... “Okay, Mr. Shaw? Your daughter is here, she’d like to speak to you.” “My what?” “There’s a little girl here,” the negotiator explained, hoping the kid hadn’t just tricked him into losing several lives, “She says you’re her father.” There was a sigh from Shaw’s end, “Well, shes probably right. It’s hardly the time, but fine, put her on.” The negotiator passed the child the phone while her brother giggled in the background, and in Krakoan, she piped, “Hello Mr. Shaw! Manon to the rescue!” “Oh, it’s you,” he said flatly. “Who else did you think it would be?” “Well, when someone randomly claims to be my child, they usually ar---I mean, nevermind, what is it? This is important, you know.” ”I think you should let the spies go, Mr. Shaw.” ”You don’t understand what you’re talking about, and you’re in enough trouble for following the crew through the portal as it is. Put the man back on.” ”But Mr. Shaw, I have a plan!” The negotiator could not understand Krakoan, but he did understand tone, and he could hear the irritation in Shaw’s voice. He grabbed the phone away from her and apologized, ”I’m sorry, Mr. Shaw, she--” ”THAT’S MY PAPA!” Manon shrieked in English, and then yelled something in Krakoan, something Shaw could hear. ”Put MY DAUGHTER back on THIS INSTANT!” Shaw roared at the negotiator, who immediately complied. “Manon?” “I am running the show now, Mr. Shaw!” she said proudly. ”Excellent. Now, the first part of your idea is splendid. Here’s what I want you to do for the second...” They talked a little more, and it sounded much more pleasant to the negotiator, he even heard Mr. Shaw LAUGH, though there was something...devious...in the girl’s undertone he didn’t care for. When she said bye-bye and passed the phone back to him, she smiled...and so did he. Pocketing the phone, he turned back to the other two Marauders who were observing, Pyro and Shinobi. ”Well gentlemen, thank you so much for helping sort that out. I’ll take you to see who you need now.” Pyro and Shinobi looked at each other, and behind the negotiator’s back, Manon winked at them and put a finger to her white lips. ”Sure,” said Shinobi, unsure what was going on. ”Lead on, mate,” said Pyro, likewise baffled but playing along. The negotiator lead them to a room of other men, and after a few moments with Manon---in which she shook all their hands, with Maxime’s empathy POWERS overriding their natural suspicions at doing so--they all bid the Marauders farewell and told them to have a nice day and that it was so nice that Krakoan/American relationships were going so well. ”Alright,” said Pyro as they stepped out of the White House and headed for the nearest portal in DC, “What’d old Shaw make you do, you little witch?” ”Excusez-moi!” said Manon in mock-offense, “I made up half the idea! The first half at that!” ”Yeah but what WAS it?!” Shinobi urged. ”Well, I told Mr. Shaw, why don’t I just make the man on the phone FORGET that we captured the American spies, yes?” Manon explained, “And he said that was a SPLENDID idea, and he said that I should do it, and make him think that we were here about something else, and that he was supposed to take us to everyone else who knew the spies had been captured, and fix their memories too. And then when we get back, he will have me change the memories of the spies themselves, so they will go home with bad information!” ”Holy shit,” said Pyro. ”Damn,” said Shinobi, “Maybe you really ARE his kid!” The twins just giggled. *** “FLAMES”       “Hey, Mr. Allerdyce? Can I bother you?” Pyro looked up from his laptop to see Alice in the doorway. “Sure, love. What’s troubling you?” he said automatically, then regretted that choice of words. If Alice had trouble he’d push her towards Haven or Maddie, they’d be much better choices for her to talk to. “I uh...I wanted some advice,” she said, stepping shyly in. Oh no. “About?” “Writing” His ears perked up and his eyes got wide, “Well why didn’t you say so! Come on and sit down love, I’ll tell you everything you need to know.” Pyro sounded delighted, and he was. People seemed to forget that writing was his real passion, not being a super-criminal or a jerk who burned things. Those were fun but they weren’t his CALLING. Alice sat nervously, “You’re a professional so I thought you’d be best to ask. “Yeah, go ahead, anything,” Pyro urged her. He felt very important right now. “Can you help me not write a Mary Sue?” “...a what?” The wind went out of his sails suddenly. He had no idea what she was talking about. “You know. A Mary Sue.” “I uh, I don’t know, actually.” “A bad character.” “Ohhh.” Alright, this he could do.  “Okay, well first thing is first, gotta be three dimensional, you know? People are people, even the evil patriarch in the gloomy mansion with designs on our gorgeous heroine’s fortune and her body! Second thing is give ‘em a distinct voice when they talk, the wandering wastrel with a heart of gold shouldn’t talk the same way as the well-brought up but dull and dunderheaded fiancee, and---” He went on, listing each of his tricks of the trade out on his long spindly fingers, then more. “That help?” he asked brightly when he had, for the moment, finished. Oh but he could talk about this all day! “I uh...can you tell me more about writing a good female lead? I know not to make her too overpowered, or too beautiful, and not to give her a tragic past or too many love interests or too many coincidences, but--” “WHAT?!” Pyro roared, nearly jumping out of his seat, “Who told you THAT?!” “The internet,” she said meekly, drawing back. “Well it’s wrong, dead wrong! Blimey, you just described half my most popular female leads! The hell kind of advice is that, don’t make her too beautiful or powerful or too many love interests?! Fuck that shit, love, if I’d followed that garbage I’d never have published a penny’s worth.” “So...do do it?” St. John, shrugged, “Do what you want, Alice. I write Gothic romance because I love it. Heaving bosoms, dramatic sighs, improbable coincidences, and tragic pasts for everybody! And I know my readers love it. They tell me so. Got panned hard by the critics and “real” writers but who doesn’t, eh? You can’t satisfy them but you can sure make someody’s day with a good harlequin. But between you and me, I wasn’t even writing for my readers anyway, even though I love ‘em.” “You were writing for you?” Alice was Internet-savvy enough to know the term Mary sue, so she also knew the adage about writing for yourself. But hearing it from a REAL writer gave it more weight. “Damn right! I give my readers what they want but only when it’s what I want. And I want trashy drama and beautiful heroines with six different walking six-packs fighting for her her hand in marriage!” “And...nobody hates you for it?” Well, like I said, critics weren’t too kind, and there’s some real stinkers of reviews on Goodreads and Amazon for a few. But you should see my fan letters! Not everyone’ll like what you make, love, it’s impossible. Even the “classics” has people who can’t stand ‘em---including me, for some.” “Do they....flame you?” “Flaming things is more my specialty. “ “No, I mean...lemme show you.” she said, and pulled out her phone. Later, had to explain to everyone WHY he had torched Alice’s cell into a molten plastic and metal lump and blamed ‘shitheads on the Internet’. *** “FIRST RESORT” It was not the greenery of Krakoa that they walked through today, but the border of Danum Valley in Sabah, Borneo, Malaysia. For most of human history, no one had settled in this part of the country, nor deforested its paradisaical and ancient rainforest, home to orangutans, clouded leopards, Sumatran rhinoceros, and, Haven’s personal favorite, the humble mouse-deer. To actually go into it would be foolhardy, not simply because of the creatures (indeed, really the least of one’s worries, wild animals tended to avoid people) but for the abundance of insects, dangerous plants, and the fact their clothes simply weren’t cut out for the amount of water, mud, and foliage they would encounter. The reason for the lack of proper hiking gear was that they had not come to Sabah to look at its jungles, lovely as they were, but because they had a mission. For most of the Marauders, it was the usual, bringing mutants home should they wish to come; in this case, mutants among the thousands of victims trafficked through this area alone. For Shaw specifically, well...there was a portion of eastern Sabah had long been an area for smuggling into and from Indonesia and the Southern Philippines. He’d been asked by the Council to bring its own unique goods to the black market there. And for Haven, well, there was figuring out what to do with the rest of the trafficking survivors; she wasn’t about to just leave them after the mutants in their number had been pulled from the herd. With all that accomplished, everyone was now, as usual, taking part in essentially vacationing before heading back. Pyro and Shinobi were hitting the bars in Kota Kinabalu, Madelyne was off fighting poachers of pygmy elephants, and Claudine...well, who knew where she slipped off to? No one usually asked. And Sebastian Shaw, waiting for evening when he’d take the boat over to Kuala Lumpur for some fun of his own, was passing the day or at least this particular hour walking on the outskirts of the verdant conservation area, not close enough to be engulfed by the trees but still with quite a bit more plant life in the way than he’d like. Particularly when concentrating on a conversation, even an asinine one. “So you do consent that violence is necessary at times,” he said, feeling he had finally gotten SOMETHING sensible out of her. “I do,” Haven said, who did not feel she had lost anything by admitting this; she had never denied it, “It’s the debate of when. My opinion is not that it must never be used---if someone is about to shoot a room full of people and there is no telepath to put them to sleep, for instance, then sadly a sniper shot may be the best option for the least loss of life---but that it is often jumped to far too quickly. It should be a last resort and not a first, or a second for that matter.” “I disagree in that but I most certainly agree in its necessity---and effectiveness,” he replied, though he knew she of course knew that, “So we do have some common ground then, however small.” “Why, Mr. Shaw, I didn’t realize you cared about that.” “Wipe that look off your face, woman. I didn’t concede to you in the slightest. If anything, the reverse.” “That’s not what I was smiling about, Mr. Shaw,” she said, still smiling and stopping to crouch down. She was adjusting a flower back into an upright position; some animal must had stepped on it. Perhaps one of her precious mouse-deer. “I meant I appreciate that you would appreciate we have some common ground, however small.” Sebastian rolled his eyes, “There would be no point speaking to you otherwise. There is barely any point as it is.” “But you do it,” she said, and began to dig her hands in the dirt, around the flower, so that she could scoop it out without plucking it, without ending its little life, “And, I apologize, I don’t like to make assumptions, but...I doubt you’re the kind of person who does anything he does not see a point in, Mr. Shaw.” She stood back out and held her cupped hands out to him, displaying the bloom, “It’s a Dendrobium lohokii, a type of orchid. Do you think we should bring this back to Krakoa? I don’t know what the policy is on invasive species, but I believe it could thrive there. The climate seems right.” Sebastian reached out and touched her hands with his own...and forcibly made her curl hers into a fist around the delicate Dendrobium, crushing it. “You are correct, Ms. Dastoor, in that I do little without a point. But you also grievously underestimate my boredom with this crew. Including yourself. You are to me as violence is to you---a last resort.” He released her hands and strode on, “And Krakoa has all the flowers it needs.” *** “HUMAN” “You know what the worst thing is, though?” said Madelyne, her black-gloved hand tracing the mouth of the glass. She still dressed like herself---her old self, her first self---when out of costume, but when acting as a Marauder (not as an X-Men, a Marauder) she did put on the ol’ pleathers again, the ones she’d worn WHEN WORKING WITH ARKEA. “I’m shocked you can choose,” said Haven, and there was no humor in her tone. Madelyne sometimes coped with a wry wit and devil-may-care (no punt intended) tone, but Haven only ever spoke of their mutual traumas with solemn gravity. “The worst part,” Madelyne inhaled, “The worst part is...I wanted it, Haven. Just in a dream, yeah, but still. And I’m not sorry that I wanted it. And when I got it...I enjoyed it. And I know I was possessed, I know it wasn’t me---I’m the only one who knows that, it seems, and even I don’t even care most of the time---but the part of me that was still awake? That nasty little greedy bitter part Sym talked to? She liked it. I liked it. I got my revenge, and I deserved it. And I can’t let go of that. I should feel SO guilty for that, it goes against everything I am, that I really am, but...I can’t. I don’t. And I...I don’t think I want to.” Madelyne knew that Haven could never understand. It was a contradiction, really---Haven was the only one here who could really understand what she’d been through, because of the uncannily similar circumstances, and yet at the same time, because of who Haven was, she also was the one person on the ship that Madelyne knew could never relate to this. She’d seen this woman beg for the lives of Purifiers. She’d seen her look with pity on child traffickers. Fuck, could you be so compassionate it was a sin in itself? Because Madelyne felt like it sometimes, watching this woman. Madelyne was harder. And she wasn’t sorry. She’d burned the world once. Now, she focused on just lighting up the parts that really deserved it. “I enjoyed it too.” Madelyne dropped her glass just as she picked it up, her green eyes wide. Had she heard that right? Was she going nuts all over again? “I admit it wasn’t vengeance I took pleasure in,” said Haven, her always-slow voice even more slow, not languid but laborious, every confessing word clearly an effort to let leave her throat, “But that might be only because, unlike you, no one had wronged me. Most of the time...most of the time, what I did tortured me. I slept little, and when I did, it was tortured. I couldn’t even bring myself to do my proverbial “dirty work” most of the time, I left it to my...to my cult.” She swallowed, and Madelyne waited for the other shoe to drop. “But...I was glad, too, part of me. Because I wanted a better world, and I believed, really believed, I was bringing it about in a for-sure way. It wasn’t just helping one person and hoping for the best that small effort would make a difference. It was knowing--deeply and profoundly---that I was bringing peace and salvation closer. I had the divine word on it. And Madelyne, for all my pain...I was proud.” Madelyne stared. And then she...laughed. “Oh gosh. Oh my gosh, I’m sorry Haven, I just...” “It’s alright. Sometimes we laugh because we just don’t know what else to do. But Madelyne---I don’t think you or I are so evil for being human.” “Human?” Madelyne’s tone turned incredulous, “There was nothing human about this!” “Wasn’t there? You were hurt, hurt by those you loved most. It’s the most naturally human reaction in the world to enjoy hurting someone back.” “You don’t. You can’t tell me that, Haven. I used to think you were so full of restraint because you never struck back---but I think it’s not restraint. It’s just how you are. You couldn’t hit Sebastian when he needed it, remember?” He’d needed a charge, and fast, for all their sakes. He’d been screaming in Haven’s face for her to pummel him. Madelyne couldn’t get close enough to do it herself, but she had been close enough to see---Haven couldn’t do it. She’d been sure Sebastian was going to hit her himself to get her to strike him, but Pyro had lit him up and given him sufficient energy from that (it had turned out later he had NOT realized Sebastian was fireproof) but if he hadn’t...Madelyne was fairly sure Haven still wouldn’t have been able to do it. Maddie...she hit back when hit. And attacked when attacked. And Haven was telling her she didn’t think that wasn’t wrong---but how could she claim that, given she never did it? “No, I couldn’t. Not every single human has every single “human” flaw. Myself, I...it’s like there’s something wrong with me, Madelyne. Like there’s some part of me missing that others have that makes them able to do violence, any violence, to feel true hate or anger. But what I do have is the also-very-human trait to want to be a martyr. I think on some level, I wanted to suffer for something greater than myself. I’m a religious woman. You know this. I think the Adversary appealed to that perverse pride, that spiritual smugness in my own suffering for a good cause that no one else understood. It hurt so much, Madelyne, I hated it so much--but I got to consider myself a persecuted savior. I got to have a cross of my own at last, after a life of trying to make up for my privilege.” Madelyne stared more. And started chuckling again, “You know what? I do get that. Because god, if I have one thing I can hang on to, to make myself feel better, it’s that I was wronged, I was persecuted, I was misunderstood...and there’s a kind of weird comfort, a pride in that, isn’t there? Being able to feel you’re not the bad guy, not really, it’s everyone else who’s wrong. I feel sorry for myself, because no one else will.” “Oh Madelyne,” Haven reached over and put her hand on hers, “I will.” “Don’t,” Maddie smirked, and pulled her hand away, “My self-pity’s embarrassing enough for me.” “There’s self-pity,” said Haven gently, “And then there is self-forgiveness.” “Hey, I forgive myself,” she said, crossing her arms and legs and leaning back in her chair, “It’s everyone else that hasn’t. And I don’t need them to. I had my revenge, whether it was on my terms or not. And I have to live with that---the regret, and the satisfaction both.” “You know I’m not a vengeful person, Madelyne,” said Haven, picking up her own cup at last, a tea cup as opposed to Madelyne’s shot glass. “You’ve just said as much yourself. But I do believe very much in one old adage---the best revenge is living well. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a very good job of that these days---and this time, it is on your own terms.”

[dumbchickwrites]

Be Mine — part 3

Pairings: Erik Stevens x Reader.

Warnings: soft! Erik.

Requested by @wakanda-inspired.

A/N: Again, no keep reading tag, sawry!😬 About this part, I was going to leave it at that but I was like.... ‘this lacks drama’. So beware, unnecessary drama below lol.

Part One Part Two

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Erik realised that he needed to change the idea that you had of him. He needed to show you that you were special, that only you held his heart in your hands.

So with the help of T’Challa and Kemi, two of your best friends, he organised a little surprise dinner for you, at sunset, your favourite moment. Kemi, more than happy to spend a few minutes with Erik immediately following him and T’Challa to the kitchens.

As Erik and Kemi talked to the chef, T’Challa couldn’t help but think something was off with the handmaiden. Last he heard, you were telling him how much she liked Erik. And just the day before, you told him that someone’s advice kept you from kissing Erik that night.

“Kemi,” he called.

“Yes, kumkani?”

“Would you come with me, please?”

Once they were out of Erik’s earshot, he pulled her around a corner.

“(Y/N) told me she came to you for advice after she talked to N’Jadaka. Would you mind telling me what you told her?”

“My King, these are private conversations,” she tried to laugh the request off but T’Challa kept a straight face.

“Alright then. As your King, I command you to tell me what was said. And I’ll know if you lie.”

Your best friend gulped. “Well, she came to me, told me what happened. I was sceptical at first because, well, we all know about the Prince’s... activities. So I told her that maybe he was not sincere.”

“Hm,” T’Challa crossed his arms, one of hands going to fiddle with his beard. “Isn’t it true that you are... infatuated with N’Jadaka?”

“I...” Kemi opened and closed her mouth, not knowing what to say. “I wouldn’t say ‘infatuated’—“

“You’re dismissed.”

“... I’m sorry?”

“You can be. N’Jadaka won’t need you anymore, you can go.”

With that, he left her in the hallway. He went back in the kitchens to find Erik studying a piece of paper. With a little smile, his cousin handed it to him.

“What do you think?”

“I’m sure she’ll love it,” T’Challa smiled, giving the menu back to Erik.

*

You kissed your lips as you huffed and puffed on your way to the massive panther statue on the other side of the mountain. Had you known T’Challa would call you there — for what exactly, you didn’t know, you wouldn’t have worn heels that morning. Scowl set on your face, you stepped off the elevator, ready to cuss his head off.

Except it wasn’t T’Challa on the cliff. It was Erik, standing in front of a table. He was wringing his hands, looking at the table, but the moment he saw you he dug them in his pockets, a close-mouthed smile on his lips showing off his dimples.

He looked absolutely adorable.

“Wh... What’s going on?” you approached him with small steps.

“Will you have dinner with me? ... Please?”

You could have cried. That had to be one of the sweetest things anyone had done for you.

“Oh, Erik...”

You threw yourself in his arms, your own circling his torso. With your ear against his chest, you could hear the beats of his heart quicken as you squeezed him tighter.

Erik immediately hugged you back, burying his nose in your hair, inhaling the scents of shea butter and coconut oil. Finally. Holding you felt so, so good. Better than he ever imagined.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckled.

“You did all of this for me?” you asked with watery eyes as you took in the setup.

“And I wouldn’t do it for anyone else.”

If you weren’t falling in love with Erik before, you sure as hell were now. A burst of confidence shooting through your body, your hand found the back of his head and pushed it towards yours, making your lips collide in a passionate, breathtaking kiss.

Erik moaned in your mouth as your tongue started dancing with his and he embraced you tighter, if that was even possible.

“Erik, I have to ask,” you said in the middle of dinner. “Why me? Why all of this?”

“‘Cause you got me, Princess. You’re the only thing that keeps me sane these days, you keep me grounded. When I’m with you I feel safe, I feel heard and seen. I want you to feel all those things when you’re with me. I want you to be mine, just like I’m yours.”

You couldn’t help it. You left your chair to sit on his lap, your legs dangling on one side.

“I’m yours,” you whispered against his lips before kissing him again.

*

You and Erik had officially been an item for a few weeks now. You couldn’t get enough of him, of his touch, of his lips, his warmth. Happiness had you glowing and giggling to yourself like a school girl as you thought of him. You were over the moon.

Kemi kept telling you to just wait. Wait until he slips up, because he will. He’s a womaniser. And you haven’t even laid with him yet! He will never settle down with you. But honestly you couldn’t care less about what she thought, and she saw it.

“Looks like someone had a great night,” Shuri teased as you entered T’Challa’s office.

Once a week the three of you would sit down and catch up on gossip and your respective lives. It didn’t look like it but the King of Wakanda loved juicy gossip, he also had the best too.

“Yes, we slept together. I mean we slept together, literally slept, but we didn’t — you know.”

“Bast, (Y/N), I’m not a child anymore!” Shuri rolled her eyes.

“Alright, alright!” you raised your hands in surrender as you sat down on T’Challa’s desk.

“Eh, I already told you, there are chairs here and a sofa over there! Both of you!” the King huffed, gesturing towards you and Shuri, who sat on the other end of the desk.

“Yes, yes,” you waved his remark away. “So, what’s new?”

“We need to find another handmaiden,” Shuri said.

“Why?” you frowned. “What’s wrong with Kemi?”

“She’s becoming sloppy, you do all the work around here. She gets distracted, and I don’t like her energy.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation to all of this. I’ll talk to her.”

“How can you defend her after what she’s done to you?” T’Challa tilted his head towards you.

“What she’s done to me? What has she done to me?”

“She put her interests before your happiness,” T’Challa stated, as if it was as simple as one plus one.

“I don’t understand,” you shook your head, the crease between your brows deepening.

“She is putting toxic thoughts about your relationship in your head because she wants N’Jadaka to herself. Don’t you think it’s strange that her behaviour is changing just when you’re perfectly happy in your relationship?”

You were livid. Not Kemi. Not your best friend since middle school. But when had T’Challa ever lied to you? Betrayal hit you first. A blow in your stomach which knocked the air out of your lungs. Then anger. You were angry that if it hadn’t been for her, you would have been with Erik long ago.

“I need to talk to her. Where is she?” you asked Shuri.

The Princess raised her wrist and a 3D hologram of the Palace came out of one of her kimoyo beads. She zoomed on the little blue dot and your blood ran cold.

“She’s in Erik’s chamb— (Y/N), wait!”

Without thinking, you kicked your heels off your feet and sprinted out of the room.

“Ugh!” Shuri groaned, hopping off her brother’s desk. “Eish, what are you doing?” she watched him walk at a normal pace. “Don’t you have superhuman speed? Aren’t you going to stop her?!”

“No,” T’Challa simply shook his head.

Shuri groaned again and rolled her eyes.

They found you in front of Erik’s door, fumbling with your kimoyo beads. You placed one on the massive door and the other in your ear. You were practically fuming. Kemi was using that voice, the one she used to lure her one night stands back to her house on nights out.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you heard Erik say.

“Oh, come on, your Highness! What has it been, weeks now? A man like you must miss it.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you, man. Get off me.”

That was enough.

You barged into the room, breath heavy and nostrils flaring. Kemi was sitting on Erik’s lap as he sat on his couch. They both had a look of pure horror on their faces.

Driven by adrenaline, you yanked Kemi off your man by her puff, making her cry out in pain.

“(Y/N), it’s not what you think, I swear!” she cowered on the ground.

“No? Weren’t you just trying to seduce my boyfriend?!”

“No! I— I just wanted to—to show you he’s not trustworthy!”

“Baby, you know that’s bullshit!” Erik exclaimed from behind you.

You raised your hand to make him stop talking. He immediately thought that that was it. You’d break up with him and he’d be back to square one, but this time with no hope whatsoever.

“I can’t believe I spent all these years calling you my best friend, my sister, only for you to go around my back like this and play your twisted mind games with me!” you spat, blood boiling.

Her mask of tears and pity melted, leaving in its place a nasty scowl.

“You always had everything you wanted, everything you dreamed of was handed to you on a silver platter. Even the damned King is a your feet! So yes, I wanted something for myself. I wanted him,” she pointed her finger at Erik. “And in order to have him, I had to keep you as far back as I could.”

“Crazy ass,” Erik muttered under his breath.

As you rolled your eyes, Kemi saw an opportunity. In a flash, she was off the ground and her hand about to collide with your cheek. Instead, it was met by a golden spear.

“You do not. Lay hands. On the Princess,” Okoye, who had followed Shuri and T’Challa, warned.

Kemi huffed, her face contorted by fury. With a dark look sent your way, she stomped out of the room.

“Feel free to never come back!” Shuri yelled after her.

You thanked Okoye for her protection and she gave you a curt nod, then left followed by the royal siblings, leaving you with Erik. You turned around to face your boyfriend, hands on your hips.

“Baby, I swear, nothing happened—“

“I know,” you smiled.

Erik exhaled, relieved.

“That bitch is crazy.”

A laugh escaped your lips as you buried your face in his chest, your arms around his torso. “You can say that again. But don’t worry about it. I’m still yours if you’re still mine.”

Erik hugged you back, leaving a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m yours, baby. I ain’t going anywhere.”

A smile stretched Erik’s lips as he held you, gently rocking your bodies back and forth.

He had won the girl.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Tags: @fonville-designs @ohliyaxoxo @bidibidibombaclaat @chaneajoyyy @heykillmongerluhme @ljstraightnochaser @deansbbysblog @honeytoffee @raysunshine78

[kinktae]

The penultimate part🥺 I’m not ready to say goodbye, Bitchin!Jungkook has definitely been one of my fav characterizations of him that I’ve ever read. Thank you so much for sharing your work with all of us💖

bitchin 9 asks bc i suck

sapphireprinces5 said: bitchin’ pt9 was just so beautiful?? the way you explained the emotions and interactions between the characters was just amazing!! I felt myself hanging on every word wow excited for the end but will miss bitchin’ so much 🤧

Anonymous said: TAEHYUNG AND YARA SIGN ME UP GURL!!!!

Anonymous said: Like I just feel like if Jk really liked y/n he wouldn’t have slept with Kiri, you know? It shouldn’t matter that he didn’t know how y/n felt. And it’s obvious that he has feelings for y/n so I just hope that’s something y/n addresses when she talks to him. Don’t settle for less girl! Get you a man who will fight for you regardless 👏 (btw this is not me criticizing how you wrote it in any way! I’m just so invested in the characters and am thinking about how I would feel in this scenario :) )

Anonymous said: I KNEW SOMETHING WAS GONNA HAPPEN WITH YARA AND TAE I FELT IT SO DEEP IN MY BONES IM SO HAPPY FOR THEM 😭😭😭

Anonymous said: Hi! I just binge read bitchin in a day and can I just say that I loved it! I really love the female characters as well, you’ve written them so beautifully 🥺 if I was y/n I wouldn’t be concerned so much about Jk not sleeping with Kiri if he knew the way y/n felt, but rather the fact that if Jk didn’t want to sleep with Kiri, he wouldn’t have, regardless of y/n’s feelings or not. IMO y/n’s feelings shouldn’t be the issue here, but Jk’s should! If I was y/n’s bff that’s what I would tell her LOL

Anonymous said: OH MY GOODNESS! YES !!!! YESSSSS Y.E.S Muchas graciaaaas!!!

Anonymous said: tae and yara are my new ship)

unknowntalesx said: okay but like tae and yara thooO they got me all smiley being like oh yeah bayyybeEE das what im talking about 😏 ALSO OKAY NOW THAT I AM MORE LUCID KIRI GOT FUCKING WRECKED I LOVED THAT SHE GOT A DOSE OF HER OWN MANIPULATIVE MEDICINE I AM 😤😤😤😤😤

Anonymous said: im not ready for bitchin to end )):

Anonymous said: I SCREAMED WHEN Y/N TOLD KIRI THE TRUTH. YES QUEEN. STAB AND TWIST THE KNIFE!

Anonymous said: ROSE AHHSHSJSKSD FUCK U I’m all hot and bothered with anticipation for pt 10 now 😩😩😩🥵

sydney--chan said: We really stan y/n for using her big ol brain to rock kiris world oh my god I yelled also I say what's your damage all the time bring that shit back

Anonymous said: a tae x yara spin off series or one shot...... haha jk..... unless..... 👀

Anonymous said: Fuck kiri's scheming ass. I'm glad YN ripped her a new one

Anonymous said: AAHHHHHH once again, I love this chapter so much!!!! I was screaming at Yara and Tae part. Seriously!!!! I am SURE she felt that spark when he kissed her. Is she going to be the one falling for the guy while he wants something casual now? Or maybe Tae will fall for her as well? Ahhhh so cute! I feel like that would be a nice spin off yk (no pressure, I swear). And Erik, woah I didn't expect him to be like that. To be so nice and wise. Great character development indeed! It was really nice (1/2)

Anonymous said: To see their interaction and the way he opened her eyes (for some reason I couldn't help but picture him as Namjoon). Ohhh the Kiri part tho!!!! I felt really petty but in the best way lol. Anywaysss I am really excited for the last chapter (really sad too) and I am sure it is going to be the best because you are a genius! Thank you for sharing another amazing chapter with us! ♥♥♥ (2/2)

Anonymous said: OKAY I absolutely adored Bitchin part 9 😻 I always thought that it was also OC fault for what happened between her and jk, he obviously was the main jerk but she never actually admitted her feelings to him and he doesn't read minds so??¿¿? Really loved that she came to understand it. And I was rooting SO MUCH for yara and tae MAN I AM CRYING THEY DESERVE IT 🙌🏻

Anonymous said: you came through with the tae x yara content we all needed omg thank you!! if anyone’s gonna make yara fall in love it’s tae lol

Anonymous said: I honestly lowkey hate bitchin’ jungkook right now. I thought I’d get over it but I just can’t imagine how hurt and disgusted Y/N was when she found out that jk and kiri were together just hours before they were like ugh. It doesn’t help that I’m also really interested in Erik’s character development now so it would’ve been really interesting to see how he’d fit in Y/N’s life. 🥺

Anonymous said: jungkook and y/n wANT what yara and tae have

Anonymous said: TAEYARA YES FINALLY OUR WISHES HAVE BEEN ANSWERED 😍😍

Anonymous said: just want to let you know you’re an absolute angel and all you create is nothing short of perfection. *sends you all of the love*

spring2787 said: I jus came from a 4 hour long class and it's finally here... Thank you so much dear 🎂 💜

Anonymous said: Is yara me ? Like when she said that boy act like they understand the no string involved but then fall in love , dude I felt that , that's literally the story of my life lmaoooo Like the number of time a dude told me yeah I'm okay with that and then acted shocked when I told him I didn't feel anything for him is impressive lmaoo Anyway I'm so eager for the last chapter!!!! you did an amazing job!!

kuhweenbri said: The way I already finished but anyways girl I absolutely loved this part and now I’m excited for the next part 😭😭 will we be seeing more of T-ara??

Anonymous said: OMG YARA AND TAEEEEEEEEE. NOW I UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU MEANT BY FANSERVICE. JSJSJSJJSBXBSBSB But on a serious note, this fic just keeps on getting better. The fact that there's only one chapter left still hasn't come home to me 😭 but thank you so much for blessing us with this!💜💜

Anonymous said: YO! bitchin is flippin brilliant! you have done so well! jungkook broke my heart in part 9! im emotional but also so ready for part 10! please take your time. have a lovely day

Anonymous said: i don’t normally talk to writers on here but bitchin is really bitchin, i haven’t read a fanfic in so long that makes me excited to read the next part and maybe it’s because i’m so used to all of the aus being recycled but bitchin is truly a breathe of fresh air to me for some reason, maybe because you fleshed out the right hand mans for both characters idk or the it being a different time period, but i just wanted to say you are smashing bitchin dude and i love it!!

shy-kpop-girl said: BITCHIN': I just caught up on 8 & 9. Shocked & angry at JK. Because regardless of whether he knew y/n' feelings it was a dick move to sleep with Kiri one night and y/n the next morning. And it wasn't like he came over to talk/tell y/n about Kiri & things escalated because he went right at it as soon as she let him in. Even tho it was hot. 😳 But Erik. I wanted to hate him but dude surprised me with his reasoning. I loved that dialogue! Once again your writing is amazing & I love this story!

Anonymous said: Bitchin is the best fanfic on tumblr. And no one can change my mind. You’re doing amazing!! Much love xoxo

Anonymous said: “Think of life as one big puzzle and everyone you meet is shaped differently, right? Yet somehow… they fit. We find those that complete us. And they’re not necessarily opposites but—“ MAAM that part hit SOOO different omg your brain!?! Outta this world! Like this is whole ass literature!!!! I stg Bitchin’ is the best thing on this app and I meant that w my whole chest.

Anonymous said: I'm not ready for Bitchin to end. It's soooooo good 😍😍😍

kmultifandom said: Since there's a cast for bitchin I wanna audition for y/n because i wanna be a biologist and I have some similar personality traits *mic drop* Also great work, I seriously love it. No other fan fiction I have read was so close to my actual self and that impresses me even more and make it like it 10 times more djksksks

Anonymous said: how will I live when bitchin ends agghhh I haven’t even read 8-9 cause I’m waiting for the happy ending before I’m heartbroken and left waiting for the last part

Anonymous said: you know what would be super fun and crazy 😛😛🙈🙈 if you dropped bitchin’ pt 10 right now 😳😳 haha just kidding .... unless 😏😏

Anonymous said: lets gooooo!!!!!!!!!!! bitchin pt 10 better haunt me for the rest of the year

Anonymous said: I feel like I’m going to get so emotional once Bitchin’ part 10 is released. It’s like I’m sending off my non-existing kids to university because I won’t be able to see Bitchin!Jungkook anymore 🥺

Anonymous said: I can’t believe Bitchin’ is for real ending 😩 it’s soo gud 

Anonymous said: Can’t wait till bitchin PART 10 Probably gonna fall asleep before u post but I’ll try to stay up for it 🥺

Anonymous said: i love your writing honestly and i just really want you to be happy. your writing is immaculate and i really want you to know that you are talented and skilled so yeah. sorry if this is out of nowhere but i just really want to show appreciation to writers because they don't get enough and you are definitely my favorite writer:)) hope you have a good day!!

Anonymous said: okay but if Bitchin' goes on for 50 chapters that would be good too.. just sayin'.

tpo-quinn said: Bruh, I can already feel that I'm gonna cry from the last chapter of bitchin'...I CAN'T WAIT!

leojjeon said: so i've re-read bitchin ready for chapter 10 an I am feeling all sorts of emotions. it's fair to say it's my favourite series I've read!

Anonymous said: y did i forget bitchin would have an end like 😳😐we’ve been on this bitchin journey w u for so long i’m sad it’s over

Anonymous said: What what what?? Bitchin is ending??!!! Didnt it just fucking start like all the drama and tae&yara!!!! Omg girl!!!

Anonymous said: ur the absolute fucking GODDESS of writing angst, ive never ever waited for a ff to be updated before as if it was a new episode of my fav show coming out. thank u for writing and be so active, muah ur amazing

Anonymous said: a moment of silence for our loved bitchin who will die soon 😔 gone but not forgotten, she will always be in our hearts. all the best rides come to an end 😭

[laketaj24]

Vampire in Brooklyn I

Author’s Notes: This is super late, like from October lol but I have sworn that I was going to get through all of my requests!! I have a new a job with better hours and less stress on me so I can fall back into my writing! (Not that y’all care but I am pumped about it) lol Sooooo here you are!!! This is a Fan fic version of Vampire Brooklyn, but all credit goes to the original movie for the framework ad story line!!! Here’s part I part two will be here Monday or Tuesday! 

Requested: can you do trevante rhodes x vampire in brooklyn and make it extra smutty 🙃💛thank youuu. - @trevantesbrat

Warnings: Mild Smut, Slight Bloodplay. 

Masterlist 

 Your dreams had been odd here in late. You tried to work through them. The questions that lingered in your head were simple. Your hands dangled from the ceiling while a man, dark as you’d ever scene but also breathtakingly handsome done things to you, you’d only read about. They’d messed up your sleeping routine, so now every night at work you were more drained than ready to work. Why were you tied up in some room, naked and writhing in pleasure? It seemed like a wet dream to die for, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of danger away as the handsome man in all black stepped towards you. His teeth, white long canines and a face that made you think foul things about him.

“Y/N,” your partner Erik said from the other side of the boat. You’d been called out to wreck at the pier. Ghost ship destroyed over ten boats and the docking house. Erik and you were on call and he was hovering over you, annoyingly. “Y/N!”

“Coming E.” You gather up some swabs of blood placing the

m in the test tube. You skip over one of he bodies to Erik who was still examining his body touches the victim and points out the two dots on their neck. “What in the hell is that?”

“Looks like bite marks.” Erik flags the photographer over and you shake your head.

Your curiosity peaks you and you leave the room where Erik was making your way down the steps of the boat to below the deck. The water sloshes beneath your feet and you flash your light down the corridor checking for anyone. You see nothing just a few rats and destroyed room. The door sways a little and you can hear the footsteps grow near.

“I’ve been waiting on you.” His sultry voice fills the air and he appears familiar to you. You spin around not able to see anyone. “For years now.”

The voice fades and you check every room, moving things around wondering where the voice went. Then you see him. The dark figure folds his hands on his chest and you draw your weapon. “Hands up.”

The with a breeze of air, he’s gone. Erik touches you shoulder. “Man, what the hell are you doing?”

“Nothing let’s just go ahead and get this logged.”

He shook his head in agreement following you out of the base of the ship.

 You sit at your desk trying to shake the visions of him slipping his fingers in and out of you until you fell apart. The quick rush of heat floods your body and you sit back taking a sip of the water. You had to get the fuck out of here.

The case you were working with Erik had you spooked. It was odd how the boats found their way up to the dock, destroying everything in their way. And every person that had inhabited on the voyage here had died. The bodies still stuck in your mind you tried to ignore it.

“You good?” Erik asks from his desk.

He asked it every five seconds and you wanted to believe that he cared for you but currently he was fucking every girl on the southside of Brooklyn. You were no one special but his partner, and possibly a friend.

“I’m fine Stevens.” You roll your eyes grabbing your keys and your coffee from the desk. “I am going to get lunch a little early today. I’ll see you when I get back.” But it wasn’t early for you. It was ten at night. The night shift didn’t particularly treat you right. You leave the station before Erik can follow you out and head to your favorite pizza spot for some peace and quiet.

You slide in the booth noticing the man at the bar, nursing the dark colored liquor. He looked oddly familiar. The waiter makes his way over to you and quickly takes your ordering and bringing you a drink. “I didn’t ask for this.” You say quickly.

“It’s from the gentleman at the bar man.” He leaves, and the man turns around.

“I hope you don’t mind. You’re beautiful and it looked like you needed a drink.”

You wanted to get mad, you did need a drink. Things were overwhelming you. “Thank you.” You raise your glass and give the handsome gentleman a nice nod before returning to your bread and drink. He takes a seat in front of you.

“So, are you from here?”

“I am born and raised a few blocks over.”

“It’s a life filled city.” He pauses and you notice his eyes as they seem to gleam.

“Yeah, New York is like that.” you lean forward on your elbows examining the man. You had for certain seen him before. But how he was here in reality you were not quite sure. He was the man from your dreams. Dark smooth skin with perfect teeth and a set of dark eyes that had you intrigued. “I didn’t catch your name?”

“Trevante.” He says with a smile. “My friends call me Tre.”

Erik bustles through the door in the fashion that he always does, hurried and angry. “Ey, you can’t warn someone before you leave for lunch. Tight after you left the captain got another suspicious call in, looks like it’s part of our case.” He turns to Trevante looking him up and down. “You having a date on lunch and shit now?”

You scoff shaking your head at Erik. He was always jealous. Well, Trevante, I’m Y/N and it has been nice seeing you this afternoon. But I have to get back to work.” You slide out of the booth forgetting about the food you just ordered.

“I hate that you have to leave.” He says placing money down on the table for your food. You didn’t ask him to but you didn’t deny the gesture. “Perhaps we could catch up later ton this week? I make a mean steak?”

Your heart strums and his eyebrow raises as he awaits your response.

“Ey! Man we have to get going tell Romeo to back off.”

You hear a low rumble and then it disappears. It was like a growl, a primal, territorial growl. Your head snaps up and Tre is there smiling at you. “Maybe next time handsome.” You grab your badge and keys following Erik out of the shop.

   He’d got you where he wanted you. You turn to the steel door but, it’s gone. No exit. Your heart races as you back away from him with each step he takes until you are cornered. You reach for the vase of flowers on the wooden table in front of you and swing it over his head. But he doesn’t flinch. He flashes his perfect smile. Fangs erect and eyes alight. You bolt to the other side of the room and Trevante walks over to you. His eyes a glow and lust filled.

“I’ve been searching for you for over a century.” He pauses. “They said that there were no more of us. I guess they were wrong huh.”

He wraps the rope around your wrist before you’re able to think and tugs the other end through the loop hanging from the ceiling. You struggle, flailing your legs in the air and he watches with a devilish smirk and those eyes gleam again. “I’ve been waiting to do this for a while. Forgive the ropes, just a precaution.”

“Let me go.”

“You’ll change your mine in a minute.” He lifts the black shirt over his head and falls to his knees dragging his extended canines down the slope of your thighs and then back up, licking a line with his tongue to your inner thigh. “I can hear your heart pounding.” He whispered. “But not from fear.” He smiled against you and then you felt him bite down sucking slowly and your back arched in pleasure. It was the most erotic thing you ever experienced the intoxicating thrill o the pain thrown in with the pleasure he gave you. You were lost.  You could feel the blood drip down your leg as he stood and wiped his mouth. “You taste just as good as you look Y/N.”

“What are you going to do to me?” You whisper watching his eyes turn black.

Trevante smiled and dipped his fingers into your pussy. “Everything.” He laughed. 

Tagging:   @wakanda-inspired @misspooh @valynsia @whoramilaje @harleycativy @virgosapphire79  @sparklemichele @theunsweetenedtruth @marvelpotterlove @ahhhhkeya @iamrheaspeaks @thiccdaddy-mbaku @muse-of-mbaku @chaneajoyyy@myboyfriendgiriboy  @someareblindtoitsbeauty @brittyevans @almostpurelysmut@readsalot73 @ivarsshieldmadien @slimmiyagi @cinnabearice@royallyprincesslilly @hutchj @im5ftbutmythroat66@igetcarriedawaywithyou @madamslayyy @bartierbakarimobisson@killmongersaidheyauntie @babygurlniah43 @thehomierobbstark @heyauntieeee

[honeysunned]

Forbidden III

Warnings: Smut, Cursing

(The app is being weird or it could just be my phone, but if you can’t see the emojis, you can see them on mobile on browser {chrome or safari) or desktop version.)

“Okay, I’m sick of this.”

You looked up from your place on your bed, startled by the sudden intrusion of your best friend. Your best friend who you had been avoiding, to be more specific. You stared up at Mylene in slight shock. You didn’t know why you were surprised that she’d gotten fed up with your behavior and decided to just confront you herself. She’d always been a “no bullshit” kind of girl.

“…what are you talkin’ about?”

It was a dumb question, because you both knew exactly what she was talking about. The brown-skinned girl stomped over to you until she was right in front of your bed, tossing her dark faux locs over her shoulder before crossing her arms over her chest.

“So you just gone act like I’m stupid, huh?” she demanded. “What’s up with you? I haven’t seen you in over a week.”

“I’ve just been…busy,” you lamely replied with a shrug.

“Busy? Or mopin’?”

You glanced up at her, deciding that if she was going to write your strange behavior off as heartbreak, then you were going to roll with it. After all, how could you tell her that you were avoiding her, because you slept with her brother? You were avoiding her, because you couldn’t look her in the face and act like you didn’t. How would you even go about explaining that you were in a funk, because you found out that your brother and his friends completely ruined high school for you, and that Erik, said friend’s brother that you slept with, was in on it?

“A lil’ of both,” you finally answered.

Mylene sat down with a sigh.

“(Y/N)…men can be trash. You know it, Spirit knows it, and I know it...”

Oh, you knew just how trash they could be alright.

“…but that doesn’t mean you put your life on hold just because some ashy nigga did you wrong. You need time, I get it. First heartbreak is rough, but don’t you think you’ll get over the shit faster if you’re around your friends…versus sulking in your room by yourself?”

She bumped her shoulder with yours, causing you to look up at her with a small smile.

“The semester is over. This is our time to hang out as much as we can before the next one starts, and I refuse to let that shrimp-dick bitch ruin it.”

You loved Mylene, loved being around her, but you didn’t know if you could after what you had done. You didn’t know if you could hang around her like everything was normal. More importantly, you didn’t know if you could hang around her house, and her brother, without doing something stupid.

“Pack some shit, and come over. You know if you leave me and Spirit alone for too long we’ll just end up killin’ each other,” she said.

You sighed before finally relenting with a nod.

“…okay.”

“I’ll be in the car. If you take too long, I’m comin’ back in here and dragging your ass out,” she threatened before slipping out.

You reluctantly threw some clothes and smell goods into your large tote, chewing on your lip as you did so. You had avoided Mylene and her house like the plague after the incident at the party. You felt so guilty for sleeping with Erik, but after learning what you learned, now, you just felt foolish. Erik really expected you to believe that he wasn’t scaring guys off left and right just to make his chances of getting with you even better? That in his sick mind, he wasn’t trying to save you for himself?

You shook your head in disgust, clutching your bag to your shoulder as you exited your room. The worst part was that if you hadn’t met Antonio before school started, Erik might have succeeded. Key word being might. He was shitty, always had been, and part of you felt like you would have had more common sense than to lose your virginity to someone like him. As you made your way through the house and to the door, you heard your name being called.

You paused, taking a step back and looking into the kitchen. You pursed your lips, glaring at your brother as he leaned against the counter, reluctantly motioning you over. You hadn’t spoken to him since the party, convinced that if you tried to, you’d just end up smothering his ass in his sleep. He sucked his teeth as you remained motionless.

“Man, stop actin’ like that and come over here.”

“Acting like what? Like I’m mad at you? Because I am…”

“Let me just…,” he trailed off with a heavy sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t get it…”

“Get what? Get how you and your group of chicken heads made high school miserable for me?”

Hakeem was quiet for a minute, seeming to think over his next choice of words.

“Look, sophomore year, there was a group of dudes making bets and pools and shit on the freshmen girls…”

You blinked, heart dropping to your stomach as you processed his words, brain working to put the pieces together.

“I’m not gone lie, I was one of em…” you frowned at this “…it was a game. It was supposed to be fun. Just stupid shit that boys do.”

You scoffed at that, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Boys will be boys, am I right?” you sarcastically remarked.

“Man, just listen,” he complained, and you huffed. “I didn’t think nothin’ of it…until I came into the locker room one day, and all these guys start scramblin’ to hide somethin’ from me. They weren’t smart about it, and I didn’t stop until I snatched the shit.”

He looked down, exhaling.

“It was a whole other list of girls that I didn’t even know about…and your name was on it.”

You knew that it was coming, but it still made your heart jump, mind wondering what could have been if he hadn’t found that list.

“I went crazy. I started swinging, beatin’ the shit outta anybody I could get my hands on. That’s why I got suspended that second week of school,” he confessed.

You remembered nagging at him for that, asking him what kind of stupid you had to be to get suspended on the second week.

“It really messed me up, y’know? That these guys who were supposed to be my friends were standing around talkin’ about my sister like that. Talkin’ about…”

“Talkin’ about treating me like you treated girls?”

He shook his head, waving you off.

“I’m not sayin’ that I had any right, or I wasn’t wrong my damn self, just that it fucked with me. After that, all I could think about was that fucking list, and I just…”

He shrugged.

“I didn’t trust none of ‘em to even look at you right. I’m not excusin’ it or nothin’. I just want you to understand…”

You released a breath that you didn’t know you were holding, taking in everything that he’d said. He was right. It didn’t excuse what he did, or made it right, but you did understand how that could drive him to react in such an extreme way.

“I’m not saying I forgive you or anything, but…I get it.”

He nodded, accepting that, and you turned and left the house.

It was the truth, you did get it. No, you definitely didn’t agree with it, but he was a fifteen year old boy at the time who had just discovered that so-called friends of his were trying to make a game out of fucking his sister. You were sure that he probably wished he could have handled it differently, but you couldn’t exactly expect profound rational thinking from a fifteen year old kid. Part of you wondered what could have happened if he hadn’t found that other list.

Just ten minutes ago, you hated him for ruining your high school experience for you, but now… You instead wondered if he saved you from an even worse high school experience. You liked to think that you would have been smart enough to not be fooled by mean-hearted sophomores and upperclassmen, but were you giving yourself too much credit? You were fourteen, impressionable, and truth be told, you went into high school expecting romance and attention from “cute older boys”. If you were being honest with yourself, you probably would have eaten it up and fallen right for the bullshit.

You glanced at Mylene as she drove to her house, Erik suddenly on the brain. You weren’t naïve enough to think that Erik went along with Hakeem’s little crusade purely to protect you, but now you thought that maybe it did have a bigger hand in it than you originally believed. It was possible that Erik at the time, also a fifteen year old boy, latched onto your brother’s fears and figured that it was the only logical solution too.

You leaned your head against the window and sighed, more confused than you were before about your feelings regarding Erik.

.

.

.

“See? What I tell you?”

You glanced over to where Spirit was pointing and chuckled at Mylene’s limp form, head leaning against the wall as light snores escaped her nose.

“She always talkin’ ‘bout some damn movie night and be the first one knocked out,” Spirit complained.

“…isn’t she anemic?”

“Bitch, what the fuck that got to do with anything?”

You bust out laughing, covering your mouth and glancing at Mylene again.

“Spirit, you so fuckin’ stupid,” you giggled.

She waved you off, shoving some more popcorn into her mouth as she leaned back against the pillows. You suddenly got up, having the urge to pee.

“I’ll be back,” you told her, a grunt being the only reply that you got.

You walked down the hall, briefly glancing at the light coming from underneath Erik’s door as you passed. You hadn’t seen him all evening, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to or not. Hakeem’s confession didn’t diminish your anger and feelings of betrayal in the slightest, but it did give you a little perspective…a little understanding.

You pressed your hands to your nose as you exited the bathroom, loving the way the lemon hand soap smelled. You were just about to pass Erik’s door when it cracked open, and he stepped out, leaning against the frame. Your eyes widened slightly, and he stared you down.

“…can we talk?”

His voice was low, and you were suddenly reminded of the fact that his sister and your other best friend were just in the next room. You pursed your lips, undecided.

“I jus’ wanna talk to you. I’m not the kind of guy you think I am, and I want you to know that…”

You glanced at Mylene’s closed room door before reluctantly stepping inside, failing to ignore the way you felt when your shoulder brushed across his chest.

“Hakeem told me about the list,” you said as he closed the door.

You watched his eyebrows raise, arms crossing over his chest as he walked past you.

“I been told him to tell you. I don’t know why he waited so damn long,” he confessed.

“…you did?”

“You’re not stupid, and I’m not gone lie to you. Yeah, I had no problem helpin’ Hakeem out in high school, because I liked you too, but sometimes I did think he was going too far. I told him to just tell you about the stupid list, and let you decide shit out for yourself.”

You took this in, shuffling your feet.

“If you liked me…how come you never told me? I mean, I know what you said about my brother, but… If it was genuine…” you shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seems to me that if your intentions were genuine and good, you would’ve told me. You would’ve fought for me.”

Erik nodded.

“Yeah, you right, but I was a stupid kid. Hakeem and I had just started to really hang out and shit, and…,” he trailed off.

“You didn’t wanna lose him,” you finished.

You walked towards him, steps unsure.

“Do you…still like me? Or was it really just about the sex?”

Erik reached out, pulling you closer, one hand digging into your ass. He looked up at you as he sat on his bed, teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

“I was always feelin’ you. I thought you were cute and smart, and funny. Hangin’ around Hakeem all the time just made the shit worse…”

You stared at him for a while, in slight disbelief at what you were about to do.

“You’re an asshole, Erik. You know that, right?”

He chuckled, pulling until you were in his lap, legs on either side of him.

“…an asshole who made you come twice, though,” he bragged.

“Boy, you ain’t special. Plenty of girls get lucky and find a guy who can really put it down. Last year, Mylene-.”

“Eh, eh, eh. Why the fuck would you mention my sister and the shit she do at a time like this?”

“…cause I thought it’d be funny…and it was,” you chuckled.

“Oh, you got jokes,” he said, brushing his lips against yours.

You didn’t reply, mouth occupied as you rested your hands on his shoulder. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, pulling you closer, pressing you firmly against him, and you squirmed.

“…Mylene is-.”

“If I know my sister as well as I think I do, she’s knocked out,” he interrupted, kissing your jaw.

“…but I can’t- I can’t do this,” you said, pulling away and sliding out of his lap.

Erik heaved a sigh, looking up at you, locs kissing his forehead.

“She’s my best friend, and…she gets funny about you. She low-key hates your ass. You have a habit of fucking her friends and ruining shit for her. You were right at the party. If she found out, she would hate me.”

He reached for you, the corner of his mouth curving upwards just the slightest.

“…then I guess we’ll just have to be quiet, huh?”

You bit your lip as he pulled you closer, glancing over your shoulder. You knew how Spirit could get, and you knew that she’d probably already forgotten about you, too invested in the movie. She wouldn’t even remember you until it was over. His fingers took hold of your chin, turning your head in time for his lips to meet yours. He pulled you back into his lap, pushing your t-shirt up past your hips before removing it completely.

You choked out a soft moan when his lips wrapped around your exposed nipple, collapsing over him when he fell back. He rolled, pinning you beneath him, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. Your hands fumbled to get him as naked as you almost were, heart erratically thumping in your chest. It wasn’t long before he was sliding inside of you, nails raking down his back as he did so.

Your chest was heaving, quiet pants leaving your lips as he repeatedly pressed his hips to yours. It was fairly quiet, save for your occasional whimper and the occasional curse that would leave his lips. You tried not to think about his sister, your best friend, sleeping right next door, none the wiser. You tried not to think about how furious your brother would be if he found out.

The only thing that you could really focus on was the way Erik was thrusting into you, hand pressed into the skin just below your neck, thumb drawing patterns against your throat. He bent down, teeth nipping anywhere he could reach, the lewd sounds of him fucking you reaching your ears.

When you were done, you lay beside him, struggling to catch your breath as he did the same. You stared up at the ceiling, wondering what would happen, now. There had been an excuse for the first time. Albeit, not a very good one, but an excuse nonetheless. Now, you had nothing.

Erik reached over, wrapping his fingers around his phone, briefly looking at something before setting it back down onto the nightstand. He turned to face you, kissing you, and you returned it. You wanted to ask questions, wanted to know where you stood. Was this just sex, or more? You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t know which possibility scared you more.

“Imma go get you a towel,” he said.

You replied with a quiet ‘okay’, and watched him pull his pants on before exiting the room. You sat up with a sigh, pulling the sheet up over your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his phone light up, but you paid it no mind. You reached over to grab your t-shirt and underwear, holding them in your hands as you waited for him to get back. It was then that you saw it.

You straightened up, glancing at the text that popped up on the screen.

‘Shame you couldn’t pop that cherry, but second is close enough, right? 🤣 ’

You froze for half a second, immediately grabbing his phone. You knew his password, all of y’all did. Mylene used to always go through his phone, messing with his dates and shit, and in all the years she did it, he didn’t change it. You doubted that he would’ve done so in the past year.

You were right, and as you scrolled through his messages, you felt like you were going to be sick. It was a group chat full of names that you didn’t recognize, and they were all talking about one thing: you.

‘Damn, so close’

‘Nah, you still ain’t win you was supposed to break her in 🙄 ’

‘that shit don’t even matter tho. after hakeem found that list, none of us was gone even get to breathe near her. He got farther than any of us’

‘I told y’all to not bring that shit out in the locker room that day. That’s what y’all asses get 😂 ’

That one was from Erik, and you released a shaky breath, eyes burning.

‘ok but 👀 👀 👀 you’ve been hovering around her ass for four years. Was it worth it? Spill the tea, Erik’

‘Spill the tea? Nigga you sound like my lil’ cousins talkin’ bout some spill the tea 😂 💀 ’

You dropped his phone, having seen enough and struggled to put your shirt on just as he came back in. You didn’t even look at him as you angrily pulled your underwear back on, shoving past him, making him do a double take.

“Woah, hold up. Where you goin’? What’s wrong?”

“Fuck you,” you screamed in his face, and his eyes widened.

You snatched your arm out of his grip from where he had stopped you, stomping out of his room. Mylene’s room door opened, Spirit peeking out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion before her eyes widened at the scene before her. You could see it in her eyes, that she was about to scold you, but that was before she took in the expression on your face.

“What the fuck did you do, Erik?” she threw at him.

“I didn’t do shit,” he snapped at her. “(Y/N), talk to me…”

You ignored him, flying into Mylene’s room and hurriedly grabbing your shit. By now, Mylene was groggily waking up, eyebrows pinched together.

“Was’ goin’ on?” she mumbled with a yawn.

You didn’t say anything, positive that you wouldn’t be able to get a word out without crying and spilling everything. She finally took in what was happening and suddenly sat up, eyes wide.

“(Y/N), what’s goin’ on? Spirit, what happened?”

“I…,” Spirit trailed off, probably wondering if she would explain what she saw or not.

You didn’t give either one of them the chance to ask you again before you were leaving her room. Erik was there, still confused, and you struggled to get past him.

“Move!”

“Nah, not til-.”

You cut him off with a slap, and you heard your friends gasp behind you. You finally pushed past him in his shock, face hot and shoulders shaking. You could hear footsteps behind you.

“(Y/N)-.”

“I’m going home. I’m callin’ an Uber, and getting the fuck out-.”

“Hey, hey, I’ll take you home, okay?” Spirit said, wrapping an arm around you.

You were visibly trying to hold it together, and she could see that. She glanced at Mylene who stood frozen beside y’all.

“Right, My? We’ll take her home, come on…”

Mylene was staring at the stairs where Erik stood, an angry expression on her face as she glared at him. She glanced at you, and you looked away, knowing that she was putting the pieces together. She didn’t say anything for a minute before eventually answering.

“Yeah, I’ll drive. Let’s go…”

She sounded exhausted, maybe even fed up, despite the fact that she had just taken a nap. They led you outside, but as you went to open the door, you discovered that it was locked. You looked up at Mylene, your gaze meeting her hard stare.

“Did you fuck my brother?”

[madamslayyy]

Okay? Okay. (Erik Killmonger x Reader)

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Reader

A/N: Dark-ish fic about Erik. Not Softboi!Erik whatsoever!! Could be triggering to some readers! Manipulation and verbal abuse is kinda heavy! Another fic for my Fic Fest! Gif Cred. to @wifin-niggaz

“What can you do about it? Not a damn thing,” Erik chuckled darkly and that was the moment you knew he was right.

You and Erik were... something. At least to you. But that something was never defined and it felt as if you were trapped in a perpetual state of Hot and Cold with Erik’s affection. There were times he would act as if he couldn’t live without you, as if your touch was the only thing grounding him. While at other times it was almost as if he hated you, as if he thought so lowly of you, he couldn’t even stand to look at you.

You knew, deep down you always knew he was out of your league. You also knew you weren’t enough for him. You knew that he wandered, slept with other girls, entertained females constantly. And you tried to pretend you didn’t care, that it didn’t absolutely eat you alive how he would undress bad chicks with his eyes right in front of you before glancing back at you and smirking at your hurt expression.

Erik could care less about how you felt and he made that quite evident to you. But that wasn’t the only side of him you saw. He could be thoughtful, sweet, passionate, and even borderline loving.

But that wasn’t enough for you anymore.

You were sick of being so enamored with a man who never extended even a fraction of that love back. The final straw was when you’d went over to his place only to find him with the cheapest, most hideous shade of pink lipstick smudged against the collar of his jacket.

You were livid, instantly shoving him away at the sight of it. You’d expected him to look a little shocked, maybe even a bit guilty, but all you were met with was the same shit-eating grin he always wore in situations like these. It was almost as if he wanted you to see it. As if he craved your reaction. He knew you were coming over in advance, he could have changed or hid it if he wanted to but he just didn’t care.

“I’m sick of this shit Erik! When are you going to let these other hoes go?!” You yelled but you might as well have been yelling at a brick wall.

“And why would I do something stupid like that?” Erik asked nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because I’m right fucking here Erik! Because I’m a human being with feelings that you constantly disregard! Because I’m tired of sharing! I’m done watching you gallavant around with other hoes before you mosey your way over to me!” You huffed as Erik glared at you in an unsettling emotion. Was it anger? Annoyance? Resentment? You could never tell with him.

“Oh yeah? What can you do about it? Not a damn thing,” Erik chuckled menacingly. There he went laughing at you again, finding humor in your pain. You never thought that at any point in your life you would let a man do this to you. Erik was never going to change and your only option was to get with the program or get left behind.

“You’re right,” you said in a small voice. Erik obviously wasn’t expecting such an answer because it wiped the smug grin right off his face. You turned to leave when you felt him grab your arm.

“Where the hell you think you’re going?” Erik’s eyes narrowed as you calmly shrugged out of his hold.

“Like you said, there’s nothing I can do to stop you. I can’t love you into being a better man if it’s not in you, no matter how hard I want it to be. So all that’s left is for me to walk away.” You turned back to the door to open it only for Erik to slam it back shut from behind you.

You turned around to look at him and found his eyes were furious. His chest was heaving up and down, an animalistic look encompassing his entire being.

“Who the fuck are you to tell me what kind of man I am?” He growled. You stared at him blankly. God he was so handsome. His features looked molded by God, even when contorted with anger.

But you were tired. Tired of his inconsistency. Tired of him transferring his hurt and anger into you. And tired of him riling you up just to get a reaction out of you. Just like he was doing now.

“You’re right. I’m no one to tell you what kind of man you are. Especially when I have no idea as to what that is. I barely know you at all.” Once you said it, you knew it wasn’t true but it didn’t stop the slightly stung expression from gracing his face, even if only for a moment.

“Get the fuck out,” he barked.

“I was leaving anyway,” you said in the same even tone as before. You could tell it was driving him up the wall and though you hated to admit it, a small part of you took great pleasure in that.

You could see the wheels turning in his head. He was trying to find something to say that would make him the victor. Something so harsh it would break you out of your calm demeanor.

“You know you ain’t mean shit to me, right? Just convenient cheeks. And the sex wasn’t even that good. I don’t know why I was wasting my time with your ugly ass. I was fucking badder bitches anyway.” Erik snarled as he looked down at you in utter disgust. Deep down you knew he probably didn’t mean it (or at least not all of it) but those fears had always been looming in the back of your mind since you two first got together. He’d just finally voiced them.

“Okay,” you said in that same monotonous voice and with that you finally left. Closing the door behind you. You didn’t make it two steps before the tears clawed their way through your eyes and small whispers emitted from your throat.

You knew it was going to take time to get over Erik, despite how horrible he treated you. But at least he couldn’t hurt you anymore in the future. You were done with him for good and now he’d go on to be someone else’s problem.

~*~

Erik was fuming. He was currently staring at the hole he’d punched in the wall after you’d left. He couldn’t believe you’d just walk out on him like that. Yeah Erik would admit he would do some pretty fucked up shit to get into your head sometimes but the possibility of you leaving never once entered his mind.

He thought he had you hooked, that he had the algorithm all figured out. He believed there had to be a balance for a relationship to last. Honestly you were the first woman he’d ever been serious about, maybe even loved but he couldn’t let you know that. The second you told a woman you loved her, you were basically handing her all the power and Erik had been through too much, seen too much, done too much to let a single woman have that much control over him, even if deep down he knew you did.

So he would always leave room for doubt, always fuck other women even if he didn’t want to, even if he thought about you the entire time. He’d also be stingy with his affection. Just enough to get you addicted then he’d cut you off. He really thought he had it all figured out.

Boy was he wrong.

He’d never seen you that way. So calm and uncaring. It was almost as if you weren’t even talking to him. He was used to you yelling, screaming, crying, even hitting him. But he never saw you devoid of any emotion. He knew you were the type of person who felt everything and couldn’t help but to show exactly what you were feeling, that’s how he knew you loved him. You’d always show it.

But not anymore. You were done with him for good this time, or at least you thought you were. Erik was not about to let you walk away that easily.

He would have to go to you tomorrow and work this out. Maybe even humble himself. And if that didn’t work then the day after that. And the day after that. And after that. And so on and so forth until you’d take him back.

And if you so much as even look at another man that wasn’t Erik romantically, he’d just have to kill him. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it, he just had enough common sense to keep you from finding out. But now he didn’t give a fuck, he’d kill the nigga in front of you if he had to. Anything to keep you his. Because if he couldn’t have you, no one could.

~*~

A/N: I’m just gonna put my same old same old tag list up here, if you’d like me to stop tagging you then just let me know!

@sassyxsagittarius @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat@imasmille@iamrheaspeaks@myaw731@whoawhoababywhoa@inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove@chaneajoyyy@myboyfriendgiriboy@theunsweetenedtruth@cancerianprincess@wawakanda-btch@laketaj24 @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls@sugardaddytonystark@getinmelanin011@pananegra@violet-ines@stars8melanin@tchallas-klaws@savagefromspruce@l7nikkifn@areubeingserved @itsmarshalltime98@adahjones@macfizzle@avengershavethetardis@adahjones @peter-pans-panda  @sleep-and-i-dont-get-along@weyheycraicey @little-toxic-angel@queennanayaaswimminginfandoms1020@ultracrii@bossyboyd03@lovelyangelofasgard @zuzuspanda@raveennn@msirii @m-mokkori @muse-of-mbaku@blackpanthersmut @chefjessypooh

@regular-biitch@ruruly20@k0linahr@storibambino@sweetbearcolorgarden@inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @theunsweetenedtruth@elaindeereads@truequeenofnightmares@muse-of-mbaku @wawakanda-btch @hellenmuma @lauureeen @kimpossible1977@vikkidc@lauureeen@laketaj24@lavitabella87@youreadthatright@vanitykocaine @wakanda-inspired@wakandas-vibranium@autumn242@marvelpotterlove@jaaystaar95@queennanayaa @halonahoney @loosewindmill @blackpinup22@halonahoney@thedelightfulone@supersizemeplz@ilovebubblesz @cinki-kmusic@post-woke@yofavcocoa@vanitykocaine@shesakillerkween@shadowkissedprincessofheart @dessianna1@ickidub718 @yoursoulstea @randomwordprompts@sweetsexysavagery @cancerianprincess @myaw731@blackchunkyqueen @dessianna1 @yoursoulstea@theunsweetenedtruth

@muse-of-mbaku @supersizemeplz @princesskillmonger @ayellepea

[reddogf13]

Between two Voids ch 11

Pennywise x Beverly

summery:  It has been 12 years since Beverly was last in Derry. now 26 years old and returning with her boyfriend she strives for a life of normalcy in the small town. Unaware that a certain stalking creature has awakened much earlier than expected. Looking for a challenge to cure its boredom ,in the now crumbling town, IT aims to uproot her life as much as possible. Yet, is that really such a bad thing given her dark situation hidden from all but the eyes of a world eater? 

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language and gore

prev chap: Between two Voids ch 10

next chap: Between two Voids ch 12 _____________________________________

~ch:11 Questions~

Beverly stirred from her deep sleep. Having to wait a moment for the grogginess to pass. Taking in the world around her in figuring out what happened. The most important detail coming to her was that she didn't feel violated. Still wearing all her clothes appearing to be untouched. Figuring out things a little faster when that detail was cleared.

She was back in Pennywise's lair, she was sure of that. Deep underneath the layered blankets. Feeling the weight of them all settling over her. Along with the clown laying at her back holding her close to his chest. She could feel one of his arms going over her. A lack of breathing from him that she assumed was normal.

“He's probably awake.” She thought. “Was he ever going to leave me in the forest? Or is it just that he changed his mind?” Either way Beverly wasn't going to question it much.

Still feeling exhausted, maybe even still partially paralyzed from the drugs. She remained in her resting place on her side. Anxious at the thought of stepping out into the world. The thought of how ironic it was feeling safer in ITs lair then outside being funny to her. Eyes closing to sleep off the rest of her exhaustion, but turning uncomfortable with her current laying spot. she carefully leaned up to shift over. The clown letting out a growl when she did.

It was a warning growl to keep her still. not wanting her getting up to leave.

He couldn't smell the drugs on her anymore. Yet he was going to keep her for a while longer … just to be safe. at least that's the reason he convinced himself of. Due to that he wasn't going to let her leave no matter how much fighting she did. His growl stopping at her turning over. Curling into him before resting her head back down nestled under his ruffled collar. When she was fully settled he wrapped both his arms around her protectively.

Beverly didn't mind that he did. Enjoying the closeness up against him more. Warmth of his soft fabric easing her quicker to sleep.

With her returning to rest he calmed down from being prepared for an argument. The warmth in his chest burning hotter at her close contact. Not being sure what to do about the sensation. The warmth wasn't killing him by what he could tell. Could it be doing something to Beverly? The warmth dipping down to a sting at the thought. Looking down at her sleeping form wrapped in his arms. Scanning over her for anything odd.

“She hasn't eaten since yesterday.” Thinking of things she could need. Did he want to leave her side right now though? Not really, but she would need something for later. staying by her side for another hour. Carefully separating himself away after convincing himself she would be fine after all that time.

The nest provided the best protection with nobody but him able to move the webbing to get in. She was perfectly hidden under Derry in a place no human knew of. Except Henry, which he remembered was still up in the Neibolt house. Thinking about what he should do with him.

“ can't eat him after he helped Beverly” Sighing at the thought of babysitting Henry as some thanks. “He makes a great pet, i guess, or a useful servant for later.” Walking to leave his lair out the old well. Appearing up stairs by Henry sleeping on a dusty old couch in need of major reupholstering.

“Pets need feeding to don't they? ugh, I have enough work.” heading out to fetch what he needed.

The next time Beverly woke he was gone from her side. Laying there for a little while longer alone before heading up. Climbing up through layers and layers of blankets. Questioning again how many blankets were there as she finally reached the piles surface. Looking around for a moment for anything different since last being here. Nothing was changed with the same vast space of blankets surrounded by towering web walls.

Crossing her arms over each other to rest her head back down. Most her body buried under the warm blankets. Thinking about what she was going to do. Shed have to leave eventually and face Erik. Should she leave today or tomorrow? What about Charles? Was he still around? Was he scared off out of Derry?

“Are you well?” She heard the clown ask while entering through the webbing. Looking up at him from her resting spot to give a shrug. Not sure herself if she was. Still feeling little energy to interact.

“I got you these.” Watching him set down a brown food bag next to her.

“ I'm not hungry.” Answering shortly with little energy.

“ you should eat.” Pushing a little. Wanting to avoid a repeat of her shutting down into silence for a whole day. Thinking it's exactly what was happening after no response from her. “ drink the water.” He pushed a little more.

“ not right now.” Well, at least she was answering him. Not pressing any further as he laid down nearby. Knowing that if she could, she would lock herself in the bathroom to hide away.

Beverly looked from the food bag back to the fabric pattern closest to her. Eyes tracing along the fake leaf pattern. Slowly getting lost in her thoughts. Debating on if she should ask questions or let them rest.

“may as well. I don't want to sleep again.” thinking with a glance over at the laying clown. Gazing at him more thoroughly at noticing he wasn't watching her. His back was facing her where he laid, keeping silently still to the point one would think him dead.

“... why did you help?” her voice soft as she asked.

“ I was not going to let that filth touch you, ever.” tone showing his aggression toward Charles. “I'd rather something else kill you.” the warmth in his chest dropping to a stinging pain over what he had spoke. Questioning why it did that, was it not true? She was annoying with overly complicated caring needs. Did he not want her harmed at all? That has never been a feeling for him.

Looking toward her the feeling stung deeper. Regretting his words further when he saw her hiding under the covers. Cursing to himself that he may have pushed her into silence completely. Admitting to himself he'd have to fix what he did, but what to say?

“... why did you return to Derry?” his question mimicking hers in a way. She always said she wanted nothing to do with him, but based on what Henry told him. she headed straight for the town after being drugged. Even after the threats he gave her at the river's edge.

“... I don't know. … nowhere else to go? … why'd you send Henry to spy?” asking a question back.

“i couldn't spy otherwise.” he avoided going into details on why. He did it to make sure the rats did not kill Beverly, but was that his only reason? He wouldn't have been happy if Henry came back to say she left for good. Then what would he have done? Send Henry to fetch her, maybe try to convince her back?

“like I would beg to have her.” an idea laughable to him. He would never go so low.

“ … how long are you able to stay awake? You've been awake a couple years now, right?” she shifted a few layers off her. Feeling overly hot underneath them all.

“heh, wanting to get rid of me? Maybe a few years more with careful rationing of my energy. My feeding will need to increase the longer I stay. My goal is to attract a few factory's or something high traffic before my long rest. Derry could use something like a fancy amusement park.” mumbling over his hunger at the thought of a huge park filled with hundreds of children to pick from.

“do you rest at all?” curious on what he did in all the spare time he had down in the tunnels. Did he just wander the town when all the children were sleeping? Or stalk the outside of schools for all his little meals to flee the grounds toward home?

“yes, however my smaller resting is not the same as yours. I don't go into some little blackout like all of you. My body is held still with my mind sleeping in parts at a time. No matter what I am always aware!” boasting over his bodies superiority for dealing with rest.

“if someone wants to stay aware they have coffee.” shooting his pride down.

“... what was with the dance show?” she asked an age old question that had nagged her at least once a year.

Pennywise let out a deep laugh at the question.

“it was to cut the boredom. You were taking a lot longer to wake up then I expected. Your friends were running around to reform their little pack. I was rudely left to sit around, waiting, for one or the other to happen. I decided to have a bit of fun setting something up.” giggling around the answer.

“sorry for your suffering.” sarcastically spoken.

“you are forgiven.” joking back about the subject.

“did you come after me because I stabbed your head? I thought bill would have been your big target since he lead the charge for everything.”getting out from all the blankets to lay across the top layer.

Beverly had so many questions raised since that one summer, many unanswerable by her friends. Going back and forth on better strategy to have killed each other being meaningless now. They were not kids anymore relying on bikes to get around. They also aren't close anymore either, her having split from the guys long ago. She couldn't tell him where they all were nowadays, even if he tortured her.

“ha, that wasn't the only reason. You were their pillar.”

“pillar?” confused by what he meant by that. Facing him as he turned over to fully face her.

“billy boy may have pushed them forward, but you kept them together when I made everything fall apart. I would have killed a few in the house had you not intervened. They were falling apart when they left the house. Split to pieces for easy picking off one by one. Except for you still holding it together. After that I wanted to get rid of you quickly, before you could give some sappy friendship meeting. Do you think bill or his friend would have made up on their own? Without you stepping in to press one forward?

I was getting tired, I didn't want to wander far after eating. I had wasted far too much energy already at that point. It was my mistake bringing you to my nest. I assumed a few of your friends would be too cowardly to follow. Or in other cases wouldn't be trusting bill enough to follow after his last failed charge in. In the end they didn't come to help bill get his revenge, or to free Derry of my scourge, but to save you. Either way I wasn't able to as thoroughly plan as I would have liked.” Letting out growls or grumbles throughout his talking.

“ you're admitting to making mistakes?” surprised by the admittance from someone so prideful.

“i cannot say I committed none. My goal was obvious and you all escaped my den that day.” a hiss escaping his throat.

“are you getting sick?” asking as a joke on his sudden humbleness. Taken more seriously by the clown suffering a strange feeling in his chest.

“i don't get sick, unlike you. You get sick every time you step out. Lucky I pulled you from the snow out by the long road before you turned to frozen meat.” growling out his anger at her joke that hit a little too close to his worrying condition.

“you followed me for quite a while after I got back. Why didn't you grab me earlier?”

“i wanted the new nesting den to be ready first.”

“and then what?”

“i would have courted you the same as I had done.”

“and then what if everything went as planned for you?” having the topic continue deeper.

“why do you ask? Are you interested?”

“no! Just curious over how far you'll take it.” tone serious on not being interested. Looking away to instead gaze up at the roof. A fluttering nausea hitting her stomach strangely.

“i would have liked to consummate our pairing.”

“pfft, I would laugh myself to death as a clown tries to seduce me into bed.” Beverly sat up to laugh at the idea. “i don't see how anybody at the bar could take the costume seriously.”

“i can take off the costume. You think it's fully attached to me?” amused by her reaction.

“like I would know that. For all i knew it was just a weird layer of skin.” looking back down toward him when he reached a hand up toward his collar.

Tilting his head up to expose the collars edge. Hooking one of his fingers under it to pull it forward far enough to emit a final snap of it breaking. The collar along with the whole upper part of his grey costume breaking apart to disintegrate out of sight. Exposing his muscular chest with wide shoulders spreading to finely muscled arms. Skin a smooth pale white as a marble statue, aside from his hands up to mid arm. The skin there a black diluting to a dark purple toward the dark markings end. Ungloved hands exposing the sharp nails extending off his finger tips. Down his muscular chest lead to the outlined stomach muscles cut off by the tightly wrapped lacing there. Everything below that still fully covered by remaining costume.

Beverly looked away from the display he gave her. Angry that she liked it a little too much for comfort. Happy though that not all of his costume disappeared at least. Keeping the lower half on to cover everything. Every time she looked at him after that was short glances to avoid staring. Examining him each time had her noticing small details, on normal people, were missing on him. Chest being completely smooth same as his stomach.

“take me serious now?” teasing her with a gesture to himself. “maybe not, you cant even look at me.” teasing further.

“i can! I – don't feel - need too.” tripping over her words with a few glares thrown at him. Looking away just as long as the glares lasted.

“it would be easier conversation if you sat closer. Don't you agreeeee?” despite not looking at him she could tell from his tone he was smirking.

“trying to get me close, but I don't have to get close. … but if I don't he'll know that i- ...” her mind rambled. “no, I don't like him. … its nerves from basic attraction. That's all it is. Heesss -nice- to look at. Why wouldn't he look -nice- he can look however he wants.”

he waited with question seeming to go ignored. Assuming she wasn't going to move he stood up to walk over himself. Sitting down next to her with a change of his posture to be more inviting. Crossing his legs with a further lean back into the piled blankets behind him to get comfortable. Studying Beverly's posture being the exact opposite to his. Tense sitting while hugging her legs to her chest. Her Back facing him without even a glance toward him.

“going to look at me now?” asking her in a way to coax her from her guarded posture.

“i will ... still very tired right now. I just want to sit here for a bit.” he could see the nervous tensing she did while talking. Making an excuse that he could turn in his favor.

“rest by me then. I'll keep watch as you do.” tempting her to get even closer. She hesitated again to talk with herself in thought. Without a verbal answer given she shifted closer. Still refusing to look at him while laying at his side.

Shifting under the warmth radiating off him. Covering her just as well as any blanket could.

“ was he always this warm?” Thinking back on her past memories of interacting with him. “ no, i am sure he was never like this before. It's just a trick, something to bring people closer before they realized their mistake too late.” Which reminded her to ask about last night's events.

“Where did Charles end up?” Asking, although going off his earlier tone she knew the answer.

“ hes someplace far where he cant do anything.” His answer filled with a heavy tone of satisfaction.

“ that makes life easier. One less worry to deal with outside.” Thinking of the burden lifted from her shoulders. However there was still Erik, who she had to get back to. “I should go back before his hangover kicks in.” Getting up to stare at the wall webbing. Shed have to convince the clown to let her out.

“ i have to go.” Glancing back at him.

“You’re not leaving while still sick.” Hearing a low rumble from him.

She gave a sigh back with an unsteady walk off over the blankets.

“What are you doing? You can't get out anywhere.” He gestured at the walls.

“ why even keep me here? You always complain when your with me!” Glaring toward him after reaching half way between him and the wall.

“ because you’re stupidly stubborn.”

“So are you!” Shouting back at him with a grabbing of a nearby pillow. Throwing it to smack into him.

“ I am fine, let me out so i can go home!” Breathing hard after such little exertion.

“No, i won't be doing anything!” He got out right as another pillow hit him. “Throwing pillows like a child does nothing!” He laughed, interrupted as a few more hit him. Testing the last bit of patience he was burning through.

After the 8th pillow thrown at him he stood up. “Stop that!” growled in warning.

“Let me out then!” Beverly gestured toward the way they usually left before. Holding a pillow in the other hand ready for throwing.

“Sit down!” He ordered with a dodge of a thrown pillow. Coming after her after that one. Dodging a few more with a final pounce closing the large space between them. tackling into her, landing them both back down into the blankets.

“shit, fucking forgot he could pounce like that.” thought coming up with the regathering of the wind knocked from her.

“Ha -!” his laughing interrupted by Beverly smacking a pillow into his face. Pushing his face away with it. Yet not enough strength to fully push him off. Forgetting that his chest was exposed when she pushed on it. Freezing at recognizing she was touching his smooth skinned chest. Feeling the muscle shift under the skin from a deep inhale.

“So he does breath.” The thought rushing by in her mind. Any other thoughts halted at further realizing he was fully laying on top of her. Chest pressing onto hers with each deep inhale he took.

Him being caught far too much in his own reactions. Focusing too much on breathing in her changing scent to notice her shifted behavior. That same heated one that was so addicting. Aggravated at the pillow in his face blocking the alluring source. His jaws opening for a furious bite of the fabric. Shredding half the pillow away to spit far off to the side. Leaving the other shredded half limply hanging in Beverly's hand.

Having not much more to block with, she tossed the shredded piece away. “ you didn't have to destroy it.” Assuming he ripped it in angry defiance against her pillow tossing.

“Do i excite you Beverly?” His blunt question flustering her full of embarrassment.

“No!” immediately denying the fluttering feeling she had.

“you cannot lie to me. I've excited you a few times. Ever since we were back in that diner cold room. You were quite shy about it then.” confronting her in maybe not the best position.

“maybe you should mind your own business and stay out of my thoughts.” acting defensive over the confrontation.

“ha! You give me too much credit. I cannot read thoughts only body language. All you humans have twitches that give things away. It's how I know you lie. I can ask you anything to get the truth.” his statements causing an inner panic for Beverly. “ such aaaasssss, do you dream about me in bed?” Exposing her with no defense to hide behind she avoided eye contact while thinking what he may or may not know. “ that's a yes.” He confidently confirmed between the both of them.

“So what? It's not any real feelings. I was sick during all that remember? That's all it was.” Working to dig herself out of facing the fact she did like him, in some mild way.

“Your not sick now, want to test it with a kiss?” His question catching Beverly by surprise.

“No, the thought of kissing you i find absolutely repulsive!”

“ liar, you enjoyed the last few. How bout another bet then as neither of us will budge?” Offering with a smile of sharp teeth that Beverly was fully wary of.

“ … what is it?” Sighing at taking up another bet with him. Thinking back on how well the last one went for her.

“ i kiss you and if you don't like it then you can go. If you do, you have to stay.”

“ that's it? And exactly how long? because i won't be staying a full week.”

“Why ask? Know your going to lose?” His attempted baiting failing this time. At least that was one point Beverly learned on the last bet.

“Give me a time or i wont bother.” Head shaking in refusal. Somewhat sitting up in her position after pushing him by a smidge. Keeping the touching to a minimum with him.

“ 3 days.” He mumbled the time to barely be hearable.

“... Okay. Make it quick so i can go.” Her speech nervously picking up it's pace unintentionally. Swallowing thickly when he leaned forward taking a soft hold of her arms to keep her from backing away. In that moment she closed the gap between them herself. Shutting her eyes tightly to kiss him first instead of the other way around.

Telling herself that she wouldn't like the kiss if she did. The last couple of times were her simply being sick. Maybe he pulled some manipulation trick before on other kisses. She wouldn't give him the chance to pull anything this time with a move of surprise. Her guarded thoughts lowering to enjoying the taste of him. That sweet caramel popcorn flavor she had forgotten about. Humming at the pleasant flavor without realizing she did.

He felt immense satisfaction at the reaction. Slowly Pushing forward to deepen the kiss. kissing her back down into the blankets. His hands sliding up her arms to hold her shoulders. Wincing at the spike of bitter fear assaulting his senses. Breaking the kiss to look down at her for a reason why.

It wasn't due to realizing she liked the kiss. Her mind, unfortunately, happened to pop up the worst thought at the wrong time. How, right now, he was almost in the same position as that dream she had. Him being over her with hands on her shoulders. Some real life differences applying to make it all feel more intimidating. One of them being he had more weight to him now. Not as light on her as he was in the dream. Being half undressed already while kissing her.

“ okay you win.” She pressed him back. Slipping out from under him to get away from his grasp. Taking in a small breath of relief at getting out from under him. Sitting not too far holding her legs to chest. Avoiding any eye contact with him while waiting for the annoying feelings over him to leave. Having trouble focusing on anything else with them invading her thoughts.

Leaving Pennywise laying there full of mixed emotions along with confusion. She seemed afraid of something yet her scent was emitting the exact opposite response. On top of that the warmth in his chest grew to feel hotter than the sun. Surprised that it didn't burn the both of them from the high temperature. Maybe that's why she was so afraid? She noticed the heat while he didn't? Well, it was definitely safe now with the heat taking a massive drop.

What now though? Should he press forward again? He wanted to, yet had the feeling she would reject him so soon after that scare. He decided it was best to remain laying where he was. Watching her sit there with slow breaths taken in.

Beverly remained in her seated spot until the lair slowly turned dark. A sign that the day was coming to an end. At least there was one way to count the days passing down there. Since she'd be staying 3 more days without any clocks. Thinking over what just happened with regret on the results of the bet they made.

“ how stupid could i be?” Scolding herself on taking the bet. Laying back with a few pops from her spine after staying in one position so long. Glancing over the clown , who had also changed position at some point.

Now laying on his back sitting up against a mound of mixed pillows with blankets twisting over one another. Legs crossing over one another and arms out to rest across the blankets. Looking like he was resting with his eyes closed.

She looked back down at her hands resting over her. Watching herself disappear to the darkness of night taking over. Seeing only little outlines of orange light to mark where things were. A sickening feeling dropping into the pit of her stomach. A sensation of being far too exposed where she was. Everything seemed fine during the day, but now her nerves were taking over in the dark.

“ the only thing to worry about is Pennywise nothing else can get in. I should be fine.” She glanced again back toward the clown outlined in the orange glow.

“ i can't be that worried if he hasn't noticed anything.” Thinking with a look forward. “maybe he just finds it funny that i am afraid.” Scanning the darkness for any other shapes not meant to be there. Scaring herself a few times after mistaking piles as people. Sleep becoming an impossible thing as her heart raced from building anxiety.

The thought of burying herself under layers didn't feel safe enough. Maybe it would be even worse without the ability to even see outlines. Hiding underneath for something to sneak up and yank her out.

“This is ridiculous. There's absolutely nothing there.” Her tired mind spoke to herself. “you’ll be fine. You need to sleep eventually. Cant have this happening every night and you know it will if you don't get over it tonight.” She scolded herself, as if that would help.

She laid there for a few minutes. Closing and opening her eyes repeatedly to try and fall asleep with no success. Breathing getting out of control from her chest constricting. Sitting up to take in deep breaths of oxygen her lungs were starving for. A new fear of being unable to breath if she laid back down joining the growing anxiety pile. Fidgeting with her sleeve with thoughts over what to do.

Carefully glancing again at his still form. Making sure he wasn't looking while doing so. His eyes still closed in his fake resting state. Beverly looked away before shifting a little over to be closer. Feeling the weight of some anxiety being lifted at the closer position. It still wasn't enough to fully calm her down, she needed to get closer.

Like before, she would glance at him to see if he was looking at all. Shifting a little closer when he never did. Moving ever closer right up to the point she was just one more move away from being right up next to him. Nervousness reaching their peak with the final move.

Laying down by him close enough that her back was touching his side. Facing away to avoid any conversation the closeness may bring. Relaxing when he only took a breath instead of teasing her about being so close. Settling down by him had her body releasing the anxiety. Closing her eyes to let sleep finally take over.

IT, despite not looking, was deeply aware of what she had been doing. Smelling the building fear off her, but kept to himself. He was the only thing in the nest besides her and assumed he was the cause of her worry. Staying away to avoid scaring her off even more. Something he'd never done before. He always loved scaring humans into scrambling away like deer. With her it was different, scaring her had lost its thrill. He wanted her to get closer not run away from the sight of him.

When he felt her approaching he avoided looking at her. Fearing she would back away if he did. Peeking only after she rested up against him. Happily noticing her fear dissipating after nesting down beside him for the night. An instinctual greatness filling him at being seen as a male providing suitable protection. Glowing eyes scanning the nests edging for any coming threats. There was nothing coming, he knew that, yet the extra protectiveness over her gratified him deeply.

Gaze turned toward her at feeling her shift. Avoiding his gaze being too direct on her in case she noticed him looking. She was still sleeping after turning over. Resting her head on his chest and an arm wrapping around his waist. The warmth in his chest heating up into the higher temperatures again. Why was it happening? It was becoming a slight annoyance with its quick changes.

“i need to cure this infection, but how? Human medicine is useless to me.” thinking with multiple tapping of fingers on the blankets. Stopping when he thought it may bother Beverly's rest. Shifting his arm closer to wrap around her. Softly rubbing his thumb on the shoulder his hand rested on. Providing a small amount of comfort to her sleeping form. His eyes moving off her to look back over the nests edging up until dawn.

The morning light pooling in disturbed Beverly from her sleep. Him closing his eyes to fake his rest again. Paying close attention to what she was going to do.

She opened her eyes in a wince from the light. Attention turned toward the mass of warmth she was laying against. Waking faster at seeing she was laying up against his body. Much closer then what she remembered when falling asleep. Facing up to see if he was watching. Calming down as he still wasn't.

“he said he stayed aware during his rest. Can't tell how much of that is true, or high ego boosting.” thinking with a look over their current position. One arm over him and one arm over her as she rested up against him. Head resting on his chest giving off a comforting warmth against the cold morning air. Noting to herself that she couldn't hear a heartbeat while resting against him. She didn't want to move and accidentally wake him, if she even could. Besides, she was feeling incredibly comfortable in her current laying position.

Beverly had never been this close before for so long without fearing for her safety. Natural curiosity pushing her to study him up close while she could. Surely no one else in all of ITs existence had this kind of chance.

He felt as smooth as he looked with a pleasant softness to his skin. Hair completely lacking everywhere else aside from his head. The texture of his bare skin reminding her strangely of a marshmallow. Pressing down had her feeling the outline of layered muscle. The Very little give when pressing down not surprising to her. He could toss things around using barely any effort. She wanted to press down even harder to see if it was possible to move the tight muscle. Holding herself back from the temptation to avoid waking him.

Studying up the dark markings of his arms lead to his finger tips. Sharp pointed fingernails spreading off the ends. They weren't a matching black like his dark marked skin. They were a deep dark grey with a little translucence she saw with the help of the light shining through them. Spotting something strange at the base of the nails going into the skin.

lines, like a cut, split down the middle at the base of each finger nail. She examined the hand closest to her for a clearer look. The splits didn't look like an injury of any kind from what she could tell. Turning over slightly for a careful taking of the hand into hers. First doing a careful sweep over one of the lines. Testing for a reaction from him seeing also if the skin would split away. The two separated half's remaining tightly connected to each other.

She gave a light press on one of them next. Finding out that the lines would spread for the purpose of making extra space. The sharp nail pushed out into extending like a cat's claw. Sinking back when Beverly released the pressure she was using. Pressing again on multiple fingers to see the same thing occur. Nails extending into a slight curve for easy carving into whatever they would be used upon.

Letting go when all the nails started extending on their own. Growing from a short 8 centimeters to their full inch long length. Watching the clawed hand in waiting for it to do something. Thinking that maybe she overstepped some boundary with touching him like that, making him upset. The claws retracting at Beverly's sudden disinterest in the natural carvers.

IT honestly didn't mind her studying him, he even enjoyed the attention. She could look over him all day if she wished. Turning disappointed when she stopped after the display of claws he gave her. Opening his eyes at a growling sound not made by him.

Beverly sitting up to hold her hungry stomach. Glaring down as she tried shutting it up to avoid unwanted attention. Too late on that part with Pennywise sitting forward next to her.

“you still haven't eaten.” he held out the brown paper bag from yesterday to her. She took a quick look at it then turned away.

“im not hungry.” mumbling interrupted by another growl from her stomach. Angry that her own body was going against her.

“you have to eat.” keeping the bag held out for her. She refused to accept the bag from him. Not being up to eating anything even with her stomach protesting loudly. The very thought of food knotting up her stomach painfully. “are you ill?” she heard him ask with a setting down of the bag.

“... sort of ...” speaking softly with a look down at the blankets.

“need to go out for air?” unknowingly his question made the knotting in her stomach worse. Wanting to go out, but what if Erik saw her? Suddenly leaving for a few days, meanwhile he thought she was cheating. That was not a good mix to face Erik with. If she had left earlier he may not have realized she went missing after the party. Sneaking back while he was still drunk or when he was puking his guts out in the bathroom all day after. Being gone for the next 3 days would require a major excuse.

“come.” Pennywise gestured for her to follow him. Standing up at some point without her noticing. Taking a moment to stand with a close following behind him. Distracting herself by studying his back now exposed to her. Smooth skin covering tight muscle like his front. The black to dark purple marking color covering up and down his spine to fade at the base of his neck. The area being much more bony then the rest of him. The bumps of spine easily distinguishable from one another down the long column.

Out of the nest and down the tunnels she slowed the further they got. Stopping inside the drainage tunnel when they were about to reach the end. Hearing her stop had him stop to look back. Hiding a grimace after smelling the fear on her.

“what is wrong?” asking her despite knowing. Afraid of that rat male on the outside was why. With no answer from her he thought carefully on how best to ease her worries. “he's not nearby. I won't let him find you if he does come close.” speaking softly toward her down the tunnel.

His words eased some worries, but not all. “I'll still have to see him eventually.” she thought with a slow walk forward. Squinting at the bright morning light. Especially when she tried looking at the clown. His bright marble white skin seeming to glow from the sunlight shining across him. He could blend into the snow covering Derry.

“and I thought I was pale.” chuckling at the personal thought.

“what?” asking why she laughed.

“nothing. … you can put your shirt back on.” seeing him walk around shirtless being so weird for her.

“why? You enjoy the view.” teasing her. Both knowing he was right about that, but like hell she would admit it.

“you wish.” laughing with a turn away to hide her blushing face. Shivering at the cold frosted air that hinted snow would be falling soon. A warmth growing at her back with a pair of arms following it. Wrapping around her waist to pull her close up against him. Her back up against his hard body of heated muscle.

“i like the view of you too.”

Beverly felt the blood rush to her face in a bright blush. Holding her breath on how she should react to that. Being held close against Pennywise while he was completely shirtless. She accepted the embrace without giving a reply to his flirtatious words. Thinking over what he was doing had the emotional high come crashing down. He was only saying things to get close.

“he doesn't really mean it. Like he said, he doesn't love me … only tolerates.” she thought with a push of him away. A spark of anger turning into a burning fire at what he was trying to pull. Thinking a bunch of sweet words can get her to like him. Especially after all that he pulled, how dare he think that.

Pennywise was confused by her sudden shift of emotion. She was happy, but now she was furious over something. He reached out with barely a touch to her arm when she whipped around to snap at him.

“don't touch me!” glaring him down for a moment. “keep your hands to yourself and don't talk to me either!” furiously walking past to head back inside.

“she's angry with me?” wondering why as he watched her pass him. Not wanting to agitate her more, he reformed his upper clothing before heading in. Finding Beverly inside standing by the webbed walling. Her arms crossed with eyes locked forward toward the webbing. Waiting to be let in by the approaching clown.

“would you like me to get you something?” he offered, having no other idea how to calm her anger. Opening up the wall for her to walk through.

“leave me alone.” was her only answer. Her voice soft from annoyance. Going to the far end of the den to lay down near the walls edging.

Seeing no way to calm Beverly's anger he went and laid down in his own space. Watching her from afar for any concerning changes. Daylight passing by to afternoon, drawing up a sound from Beverly. Her stomach growling heavily after ignoring food for almost 2 days now. She didn't want him speaking to her, but he had to feed her.

He gathered up the ignored bag of food to approach with. Sneaking over up to her side with a slow setting of it down. Pushing it toward her in a passive manner. Leaving it close by before quietly retreating back to his spot.

She looked toward the re-offered bag. Going back and forth on if she wanted to eat or not. Her stomach may have been growling, but it was still suffering nausea.

“Maybe eating will somehow settle it.” thinking that it also depended on the food. She didn't think she could stomach anything too heavy. Pleased that inside the bag was a bottle of water, a plastic side container of fruit and a large sandwich stuffed with turkey. After the first bite of food the rest followed down soon after. “did not cure the nausea, but I won't be hungry for a while. nothing much to do but sleep. Have the time pass much quicker at least.” she thought. taking a drink of water with a loud crumpling down of the brown bag.

Grabbing a handful of fabric she pulled some layers over for a blanket. Settling down to the view of the towering wall of items blocked mostly by webbing. Covering her head to block out the minuscule amount of light able to reach her. Hidden under the dark covers time felt like it was skipping. Beverly peeking out now and again after feeling the sense of waking after a short rest. Seeing the light shining in changing colors through the passing day. Taking little time to check before heading back under for more sleep.

For a moment the world went fuzzy. Turning suddenly clear at the touch of a hand moving up her leg. Startled, she flipped around under the covers coming face to face with the clown. She didn't get a word out when he kissed her back down into the blankets. Closing her eyes at the strangely nice surprise. Opening them again when he pulled away.

Heart jumping into her throat at seeing him fully unclothed. Turning her head to look away in not wanting to stare. Forced into turning back at feeling the collar of her shirt bit into. A tearing sound of stitching as he yanked back on the clothing.

“ ah, stop, wait!” Ordering him to stop. Slipping off the fabric to preserve her clothing she didn't feel worried about undressing for him. Sitting up in removing her pants just as quickly when he went after those next. Crawling over her as he kissed her back down.

Fear catching up to her as something grabbed a hold of her legs. Something hard, overly smooth. and a little sharp. Glancing down had her catching a glimpse of multiple spider legs sprouting from his chest. Wrapping around her to pull her close against his body. Her attention pulled off the sight of them by a lick to the neck. Only for her attention to drop back down at the legs shredding away her underwear. Exposing her to the large black tendril that raised many alarms in the back of her mind.

The black writhing appendage was covered in what looked like sharp thorns. maybe even being teeth that curved back into the hook like shape. The more main part of the member covered in jagged scales.

“I-i wait i can't take that!” Beverly panicked under him.

“It’ll hurt for just a moment.” His words not at all comforting.

“Change it to something else!” Shouting her words in panic. Yet despite all her fear, her body still burned for the painful looking member. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad for it to press in. Maybe it was like those bristles on his tongue. They looked sharp, but were the exact opposite.

He didn't answer or even seem to respond to her words. Pressing himself forward in preparation to enter. All Beverly felt she could do was hug him close with eyes shut tightly in her own way of preparing.

“Pen …” Whimpering out the nickname she gave him in the hopes he would react. Water building up in her eyes at feeling the heat of him at her entrance. When he was to enter her eyes shot open.

Scrambling up under the covers heart beating out of her chest. Looking frantically around while catching her breath. Seeing the outline of the clown away from her spot. Beverly curled back under the blankets. Frustrated she woke up at the worst time, night

“Another fever dream.” Thinking to herself in confirmation to what she went through. Although, could it be called a fever dream while not being sick?

“ why do i keep having these dreams. … Clown is probably causing them …” she glared in thought toward his laying form. “ … Who am i kidding? There mine whether i like them or not. Still is ridiculous to think of doing … With him … When i don't even know what he has. Might not even be compatible. … He did talk about doing it with others so - oh my god why am i thinking about this?! - need to drown out these thoughts!” Her mind fought with itself on what to feel. Her body trying it's best to remove the wanting ache left over from the dream.

On the other half of the nest, Pennywise had been taking careful attention to Beverly's changes. Her sweet scent having exploded in her sleep. Tainted by the mix of fear up to when she woke. Her scent changing currently into a confused cocktail of emotion. A burning want, fear, anxiety, anger, stress. The first being the one he was most focused on.

The last time he tended to it he aroused her greatly. With the environment not being as suitable as it was now. The moment seeming perfect for a second attempt. Completely alone, surrounded by soft bedding, dark lighting that humans commonly loved when mating together. Stretching out from his spot, crawling low amongst the piles of blankets, he slowly stalked toward her.

_____________________________________

two updates today since its my birthday. :v//

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

No Place Like Home 💜

Dedicated to @marvelpotterlove 💜 Thank you for commissioning me and trusting me with your fic. This is a five part series. Reader is a single real estate agent in Cali. There will be fluff and mild drama. Also, this is super late but I got you and I'll make up for it. Word Count: 3,662

•▪• ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ •▪• ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ •▪•

Part 4: Break Some Eggs

At sunrise, Erik rose ready to stunt on the obnoxious trio he now referred to as the three stooges. Climbing from the top bunk he quietly hit twenty pushups, up and down quckly.. careful not to wake the sleeping beauty before grabbing his grooming kit and the mismatched red washcloth and blue towels he’d borrowed before Y/N fell asleep. She’d knocked out looking at listings and checking her emails. He didn’t expect anything different, she was a functional workaholic afterall. That was her whole bit. Heading to the empty bathroom while the house slept, he got started on the hygiene portion of his morning routine. He had to get in there before people started acting crazy over bathroom time. This seemed the type of group to fight about stupid shit. Under the hot stream of the shower, he thought through the day ahead. Today would be the bridal shower and bachelorette party. He’d go to the bridal shower to buffer whatever he could but she’d be on her own at the bachelorette party. What could he tell her to get her through? What scenarios would pop up to go wrong? Between work, her family, and these events what the fuck has she done to alleviate stress? She need to take a walk. Not in this crackhead neighborhood, but in Central Park or some shit.. a garden.. with flowers. Wrapped in the dingy blue towel, he popped his golds back in and moisturized his beard before a knock on the bathroom door interrupted him. He cracked it prepared to turn on his charm, but it was just the old man. He’d been missing from the welcome crew yesterday, but if anything it answered Erik’s question about his relationship with Y/N. It was nonexistent. What kind of childhood did she have? He had to wonder. Also, what happened to her actual dad?

"You must be Y/N's stepfather. I'm Erik," he opened the door wider, holding his hand out for the old man to shake, but unsurprisingly no handshake came. Erik's hand withdrew, his eyes still warm.. assessing.

Breezing into the bathroom and closing Erik out without his shit, the man began to gripe in bitter-man fashion, "Whole street know that by now..." It was muffled through the door, but that part was clear enough for Erik to hear. Old ass passive aggressive nigga. The spladow of a morning dump let Erik know to gone head and walk away. Stepdad had a bug up his ass just like the rest of the house, but it couldn’t be personal. It was a personality flaw and as long as stepdad stayed in his funky ass lane there would be no issue. Making his way back to the room he shared with Y/N, she was still peacefully sleeping. He silently pulled on his black joggers, his white Lost Tribe hoodie and his white Nike air max 90's before heading downstairs to activate his plan.

An uber took him to a nearby market where he bought a few items to make a grand breakfast. He was in and out, already aware of what he'd make and how long it would take. With the proper time management, it would be simple. Back at the house, he shook his head at the entrance. It was truly an ugly mothafuckin house. He wondered what Y/N’s house in Cali looked like. Hopefully she didn’t live this way. With her career and style, it wasn’t likely that she did. Anyway, none of that mattered at the moment. All he cared about was the kitchen. Stripping off his hoodie, He made sure the space was spotless before he cooked. Pancakes, fried eggs, potato hash, fresh strawberries and grapes, bacon, sweet blueberry muffins, and a few omelettes with homemade salsa. He poured champagne into four glasses, mixing it with orange juice and decorating with a bright orange wedge on each glass before starting on cleaning the unoccupied soiled dishes. He hoped the fam would be brought downstairs by the smell of the heavy food hitting their noses and he wasn't disappointed. A thud of footsteps came down the stairs, and he listened as they approached the kitchen. Throwing a quick glance over his shoulder, he could see that it was stooge number three, Jamira, and by the glint in her eyes.. she was checking out more than just the breakfast spread. He hid his annoyance, facing forward to wash a plastic bowl he'd used to mix batter in.

"Good morning, bride to be. You the first up?"

"Yerrr. Call me Mira and it looks that way. Whatcha cooking? Smells good in here." She walked forward, grazing his bare side with her fingertips, propping herself on the countertop to lean over him as he washed dishes. Touch barrier broken, here we go. “I love a man that cooks,” she gushed. He watched her eyes slide hungrily from his eyes to his lips and her head tilted, her stiff hair moving with her as a unit. Looked like a sew-in, but it could've been a wig. As her attention shifted to his exposed chest the volume went up in her mind making the questions and interest in her eyes loud. She obviously wondered about the markings but he didn't plan on answering not one of her questions.

"You hungry?" He tried to shift the atmosphere. Her thirst was obvious. She could lust from a distance as much as she wanted as long as she didn't touch him.. again.

"I am hungry, but I what I really want is what Y/N had last night. That shit? Whatever that was sounded delicious." He looked up at her bold comment, eyes low, judging and assessing. She held his gaze steadily. She was dead serious, coming onto her blood sister's man like a homewrecker. He’d expected her to test his loyalty to Y/N to see if she could come in between, but nah the look in her eyes went beyond that. She dead wanted him, he could feel it. Erik felt bad for the groom. His fiance was a rip. Did he know what type of woman he was marrying? The kind of family he was joining? Every moment with this family raised more questions. Maybe she was the type to want everything her older sister had, men included. Maybe she felt like her sister had the best life and this was her way of feeling special.

“Guess Marcus ain't hitting it right," he mumbled. Looking her up and down, he couldn't find anything she had that Y/N didn't. Nothing but the love of her family. It sickened him because he knew exactly how it felt to be an outcast among his own, fighting to make something of himself while they sat comfortable and united among themselves. Not even oblivious, but uncaring and cold. "Trust me, sweetheart. You couldn't handle all the freaky shit I be doing to ya big sis. She can barely handle that shit."

"TRY ME. She can’t hang because she a rough draft.. very rough. But I'm the final copy." Her long finger stroked a keloid on his large bicep, touch barrier broken yet again. It was starting to irritate him. He didn’t take well to being touched without his permission.

"Final copy my ass," he snorted. She blinked in surprise. She didn’t expect him to fire back at her. "You into metaphors, let’s do metaphors. You a rewrite with typos, but you found a nigga to marry you who’s illiterate and doesn’t care about all that.. so do yourself the favor and don't fuck that up messin with me." He honked her nose with his wet hand and she swatted it jumping down from the counter.

"Okay nigga, but I'm vigilant and I always get what I want. Deadass." Her hands went to her tiny hips confidently and his eyebrows rose. She wasn’t giving up, it was crazy. If anything his outburst made her thirstier. He couldn't help but snicker, his laugh sputtering as his knees went weak. Always.. Until now.

“C-c-c-combobreaker!” She frowned, not liking that but he found it hilarious. "You better want that weak dick nigga you marrying and sit down. I'd break yo lil ass in half. Here." He fixed her a plate and sat it on the table for her along with one of the mimosas. "Eat that and chill. Please." Of course she wouldn't chill. She had zero chill. He felt her eyes hard on his back muscles and a second set of footsteps approached. He did a double take as Y/N appeared in the tight black tank and red plaid pajama pants she'd changed into last night. It clung in all of the right places and his thoughts went straight to getting in them yams. 

"Morning Love," she smiled, looking him up and down with equal thirst. He could feel his lips turning up in response and he nodded, a come hither look in his eye. Electricity fizzled in his veins. This was her effect on him. She came closer, encircling his waist with her soft arms and he rested his head against hers, her satin bonnet still in place. She smelled like hairspray but she was warm. After a quick, sweet peck on his lips she stepped away, releasing his wait. Her eyes were trained on her sister who rolled her beady eyes into her glass. Of course.. the smile, the hug.. it was just for show. Y/N looked back at him with a sneaky grin that simultaneously lifted and crushed him. The attention was for show and that greeting smile.. It wasn't even about him, she was only smiling because her sister was jealous. Her eyes lingered on his, concern lingering as she tried to decipher his mood. He pushed warmth into his eyes to ease her mind. Afterall, she was happy right now and that was all that mattered. He took her plate to the table and sat her across from stooge number three . He didn't need any subtle daggers ruining an otherwise quiet morning. Jamira seemed to be behaving and keeping her mouth shut as the two ate in silence. Suddenly, more footsteps approached. Larry and Curly.

"Who is in my damn kitchen cooking my gotda-" the rough and rasping voice fussed before pausing in the doorway. India. Erik smirked as her sentence cut off, noticing Iris' eyebrow raise in silent communication as if to say ‘Shut up’. India returned the gesture. Handing Iris her plate and mimosa, he met her shameless eyes with a "Good morning." She gripped the drink quickly, but her hand lingered on the plate for seconds, not grabbing it. She was stuck, staring dead at his face. He flashed his charming grin, watching her eyes go to the flicker of light reflecting off his bottom gold fangs. If she were to push her with one finger, she'd probably fall dramatically to the floor in a puddle. She finally took the plate and moved to the side, her eyes sliding to abs and crotch in his joggers now fully soft. Resisting the urge to shake his head at all the thirst in the house, he fixed India's plate next and handed it to her. She looked like he'd handed her a bomb. "You in here wasting my gahdamn groceries? Leave it to a nigga to come in here and fuc-"

"Ma'am..,” he called and she paused mid-rant, focusing on him. As irritable and bitter as she was, that thang between her thighs and her eyes still worked. She wasn’t immune to his charms and she could use her brain to observe that she ain’t have no champagne or oranges in the house before his arrival. “Do I look like a broke ass nigga that need to use my girl or her mama shit?" His eyebrow raised daring her to lie as he crossed his bulky arms. She looked at him and then into the plate, hesitant before taking her ass to the table to sit. Within seconds, she started wolfing the shit like it was edible cocaine. "Taste good?" He asked with a teasing smirk causing her to catch herself and slow down. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she remembered her table manners.

"Who taught you to cook like this," Iris, clearly humored, asked between loud wet smacks of pancake. It was a basic ass breakfast honestly. Pancakes, meat, eggs, potatoes, and mimosas and they were eating it up like it was gourmet.

"My daddy," he said fixing his own plate. It was the truth he didn't wanna elaborate on. With the exception of Y/N, they ain't deserve it and if she really wanted to know she could ask him herself.

"Your daddy?! Well. Is he single?" Iris swirled her glass. “What do you do for a living, Erik,” India interjected. “You get those bedroom skills from ya daddy too? I might need to--” “IRIS. Hush! He wanna date my lil nappy ass daughter, I need to know what he has going for himself. Lil’ boy.. what do you do for a liv--”

“WHO MOVED MY MEDICATION,” a loud gruff voice yelled from upstairs. “IT’S IN THE DRAWER,” India yelled back. “WHERE MY MEDICATION,” the voice yelled again. “DAMMIT IT’S IN THE SAME GOTDAM--” India jumped up grumbling and made her way upstairs.

“Anyway.. I need to get ready for my bridal shower. Aunt Iris, help me choose a wig.” Jamira sighed lifting from the table and Iris followed suit, heading toward the stove. On cue Y/N spoke up, “Erik, while we’re gone would you mind--”

“He’s not your slave, Y/N. He’s a man.. but OF COURSE,” she paused as though remembering something important, “Wow, you never could keep one of those, could you?” Her frown was mocking while Iris spit the swig of champagne she’d stolen back into the bottle, laughing. Erik watched Y/N’s eye twitch as her younger sister made her dramatic exit. She popped her head back into the kitchen briefly to invite Erik to the bridal shower, sending him a wink and dropping her eyes in attempt to locate a dick print before disappearing again.

“Chill out,” Erik whispered to Y/N once they were alone. “Consider the source and don’t let their bullshit get to you.”

“Why does everyone hate me here? Did I do something? I just don’t get it..”

“No, no. It’s not you. Sometimes people have issues within themselves.. Different flaws and shortcomings, regrets.. and they take those out on you. It’s not your burden to bare. The only thing you’re responsible for is keeping yourself healthy and mentally clear. Look at me.” She was slow to look up, still in her head. He had to grab her chin and turn it. “I know what I’m talking about, okay? It’s them. It’s not you, you have nothing to prove to anyone. But if you keep absorbing this negative fuckin energy it’s gonna be you too. Do you want that?”

“Hell no,” she growled looking a bit more present.

“Gimme that growl a lil bit louder. Do you want that negative shit in your life?”

“HELL NO,” she yelled with the fire of a hellcat. It made his dick twitch. He knew what he was getting into tonight.

“DAMN RIGHT,” He barked, watching her exhale a long calming breath.

“Did you eat anything,” she squinted.

“Not yet, but I got time. I just gotta change clothes, I already took my shower. It’s just you and your funky ass family that gotta get cleaned up.” 

“Yeah, okay,” she grinned. “You can wear anything just make sure you actually put on a shirt. The way these people thirst around here, won’t nobody be able to focus.”

“These people? You mean you and your family? I thought you were gonna bite me the way you were staring.” He flinched for comedic effect and her gaping expression was priceless.

---

The three stooges piled into their small van together, Jamira offering Erik a ride and completely ignoring Y/N's presence. They all treated her like an afterthought.

"Let's just blow it off and you show me your New York," he whispered in her ear pulling out his phone for another uber. She shook her head and pulled him into the van. He was irritated until she gave a silent vicious scowl that let him know she was still growling on the inside. She wanted to go to the shower.. So they went.

The car pulled up to a brownstone in Bed Stuy. Once inside, there were ribbons and streamers tied everywhere and balloons littered the floor. "Cousin. Cousin. Family friend. Marcus' mama and sister.. and then I don't know," Y/N nodded subtly at the women in the room answering Erik's unspoken question. Women old and young, mostly young filled the living room and kitchen space.

"Cheap crystal, no effort decor, and bad appetizers.." he whispered in Y/N's ear as he bit a mozarella cheesestick. Wasn't a fruit or vegetable in sight. It was a culinary and aesthetic disgrace.

"Don't forget the flood of FashionNova," she added lowly.

"Why we here again?" They could've been at the park, at a restaurant, a movie, anywhere else where they could be alone.

"You mean you don't like free champagne and hors d'oeuvres?”

"Erik! Come," Jamira waved, the double meaning in her words lost on no one. Only Y/N saw his deep eyeroll and she touched his cheek in support. He crossed the floor to where Jamira stood with few other women. "Yeah, he's staying with us for time being. He came for my wedding, so no he's not the stripper," she sounded disappointed.

"That's too bad," one said, drunk off of champagne. "If only he were single," another said looking him up and down in full view of Y/N.

"Oh no, I couldn’t be single. I love my baby too much. Baby!” He called out and Y/N caught the hint, coming to his side. “This woman is my future.” A quick nudge in the side and Y/N was on board. She rested her hands on his shoulders as his wrapped around her waist.

“Yes, I can’t be without this man. I’m sure y’all know how it feels when someone loves you so much you can see your life in their eyes,” Y/N smiled, her eyes innocent of malice. Erik knew better. She was as shady as he was. Shots fired. He was proud. Whisking her away from the group to the middle of the room, he rocked her back and forth, swaying to the new Lil Wayne music like it was a waltz. Her bright eyes were alight and he knew she was enjoying the moment, completely stress-free.

Then the party games came. Guessing how many skittles were in a jar, Bingo, and a bride and groom trivia. That last one got spicy, the groom’s sister and mama was there so where most people didn’t know personal details about the man, Marcus, his family would overshare shit that they shouldn’t have. No one needed to know when he was potty trained or that he stopped pissing the bed when he was twelve.

“Hold on, hold on y’all. We here for Jamira,” India rasped, her words slightly slurring. She must’ve been lit too. “Everyone here for Jamira, it’s Jamira’s day, but her big sister finally came back from across the world and I think we should acknowledge her here too. She brought a man, over there. You see them all close like they engaged.”

“MOM,” Jamira hissed. Erik watched the outburst from his seat. Y/N was comfortable leaning against him, close. She didn’t move a muscle.

“What? Jamira, I just need to know what the boy does. He been all up in my house and I still don’t know. When is a right time to ask?“

“Oh my god, not now!” Jamira looked at her future in-laws apologetically. She was trying to show a better side of herself and her mother’s all too honest outburst was a setback and an embarrassment for her. Erik wondered how the groom saw her. Apparently she was into hiding shit. A look at Y/N confirmed his suspicions. Jamira wasn’t herself around her fiance or his family. He shook his head, keeping it between him and Y/N. India’s eyes went back to Erik and he decided to answer her. Why not?

“Alright,” he shrugged. “Sup everybody, my name is Erik. I own a restaurant out in Cali and I’m also a chef.”

“Yeah, I go there all the time. That’s how we met actually,” Y/N added. It wasn’t a lie.

“How long you been together? Both of you answer at the same time,” India challenged trying to catch her daughter in a lie. “Four months,” they both said without missing a beat and Y/N laid a fat kiss on his lips catching him off-guard. His expression made her giggle and in turn he smiled.

“Mom,” Jamira hissed again. She was pissed, but trying not to go off. Y/N was stealing her thunder on her day without trying. It was their own fault. The party went back to its original focus and India sat down to gossip with some of the other women.

“You ready to go yet,” Erik whispered. “No, I gotta stay and go to the bachelorette party. Everyone’s leaving from here to go to the strip club.”

“Yeah, about that. I already called the uber. I’m a head out and you enjoy yourself. Don’t get too wild.. Judging by your expression right now I don’t have to worry about that.” She didn’t look interested in it, but she still wanted to go. She was definitely loyal. He could respect that. “I’m leaving, but be easy and if anyone try you you can text me, call me, anything. I’ll come to you. Okay?”

She nodded and he kissed her on the forehead wishing her good luck before taking his leave. “Aight,” he said waving at the party on his way out. This next part, would be all Y/N.

@hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @simplyyamberr @vanitykocaine @bitemyxxx @bonita-juanita @eriknutinthispoosy @blackpinup22 @thadelightfulone @yaachtynoboat711 @youreadthatright @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @bidibidibombaclaat @priya212 @romanceoftheeveryday @muse-of-mbaku @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @kreolemami @myboyfriendgiriboy @loosewindmill @wakanda-inspired @madbadsiren @theunsweetenedtruth @panthergoddessbast @allhailnjadaka @amethyst1993 @ange-sensuel @thehomierobbstark @purplehairgawdess @supersizemeplz @blackpantherismyish @drsunshine97 @thiccdaddy-mbaku @wawakanda-btch @killmongersmisstress @imaginewhoever @nemesispawn @niggarachi15 @hidden-treasures21 @pupyluv247 @phoenixxx1225 @violet-ines @indigoxsummers @janelledarling @imasmille  @sweetsexysavagery @mermaidchansons @destinio1 @ash-moneyy @ljstraightnochaser @forbeautyandlife @iamrheaspeaks @elle-luring @yoyolovesbucky @ilovebubblesz @awkardlyabstract @beautifulqueenflaws @slimmiyagi @sidneebleu