#ripped out my damn heart i am currently deceased

[maacbrem]

Wouldn’t that be something

Quick messy flat-colour doodle of what they deserve :’) (pose reference from @mellon_soup on Instagram)

Expression close-up:

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Vampr Erik Origin: Part Two

okay so I wanted to quickly get this out to basically wrap up the origin half of my new vampire Erik series Faerie and Vampr  that I am starting.

Origin Part One

Let’s start with a little background on vampires:

In order to create a vampire, a human must be drained of their blood by a vampire and the blood lost needs to be replaced by some of the vampire's blood. The vampire and human must then sleep in the ground (this is presumably the point where they technically die) until the newborn rises as a vampire the following night. The newborn and the maker will subsequently have a maker-progeny bond, unless the maker deserts or releases their progeny.

If the head, or the heart are missing at the time of death, the person in question will not wake in transition; but simply stay dead. Currently, it is unknown what will happen to a person who lost other organs, such as a liver, or kidneys, and woke up in transition. Most fatal injuries, such as snapped necks, slit throats, stab wounds, and shattered bones from falls will be healed before the fledgling vampire awakens in transition. Furthermore, the person must be mortally wounded or ill to the point that conventional means cannot save their lives. I 

A newborn's existence depends upon their abilities, which are taught to them by their maker. These abilities take time to learn and develop. As vampires age, they become more adept at controlling their abilities. According to the history of the creation of vampires, two-thirds of newborns die during their first year without the guidance of their makers.

Newborn vampires will be thirsty and will need to feed to survive. Although newborns have some control of their abilities, they are mostly controlled by their impulses and can cause serious harm and accidental deaths to humans around them. In addition, newborns cannot resist blood at all, as resistance develops with age. The biggest difference is the fact that a vampire gains extreme strength, and has much agility and reflexes. This is more than a match for almost every human alive, and serves the vampire well for hunting and feeding. Of course, like humans, some vampires are just naturally stronger than others. 

Also, if a human who is strong is turned into a vampire, then that human strength is added to the vampire strength, creating a very powerful vampire. This is why many vampire leaders will sire huge men; they make incredible bodyguards even against a Slayer. As a vampire grows older, it’s demon side becomes more and more powerful. Vampires do not age, their bodies are, for the most part, just reanimated preserved corpses, and do they, through supernatural means, stay the same forever. There are some exceptions, for example, vampires still appear to grow hair...though perhaps at a much-reduced rate. 

A vampire can suffer terrible injuries and heal from them easily. Since they can only be killed by a few select things, they can suffer injuries a human could not heal from, like a broken spine. Gunshots, swords, and any injuries caused by weapons that aren’t wood can’t kill a vampire, only cause pain. Certain vampire poisons and magic do exist though, which will permanently hurt, or kill a vampire. In 1610, a powerful witch named Antonia Gavilán de Logroño cast a spell that summoned all vampires within a 20 mile radius to expose themselves to sunlight. This caused a number of vampires to die and caused vampires to be very fearful of necromancy.

Another example of the supernatural preservation is that vampires don’t need to take oxygen to live. They can, however, force air in and out of their lungs, which allows them to do things like smoke, or perhaps cool air into their chest if they get too warm. They do not have a beating heart like humans do. Although this is true, through some supernatural means they still seem to have blood flow. Without a blood flow, a vampire can’t bleed, or react to drugs, which they clearly do. They can’t however become pregnant or produce waste. 

Vampires are recognizable from their fangs, which are located behind the maxillary lateral incisors (as opposed to the canines, as per vampire mythology). Fangs can be extended and retracted by choice, and are controlled by the movements of certain facial muscles. However, fangs protrude automatically when vampires are feeding, angry, excited, sexually aroused (colloquially referred to as a "fang boner"), need to fight, or see blood. Fangs can also be removed, but grow back after three months. Without fangs, vampires cannot feed on live victims unless the victim is already wounded….

——————————-

Erik’s eyes shot wide open in a flash. Darkness surrounded him and his large, muscular body was resting on a hard surface. He could hear the springtails, beetles, centipedes, and ants that make their home in the soil, crawling around. The katydids and crickets were chirping much louder in his ears now. He could smell the odor of dry blood and decay in the earth from the deceased. His body no longer aches and he felt like he had the strength of an entire army. 

The last thing he remembered was waking up on a makeshift bed surrounded by burning ritual candles enchanted with herbs, oils, and crystals chosen for their metaphysical and magical properties. He could recall a voice, a captivating voice speaking Jamaican patois in his ear. Now that he forced himself to remember while lying beneath the cold, damp earth, she said she was Mama Dalma; Tia Dalma. The powerful voodoo priestess Erik heard many stories about in his youth. 

Like flashes, Erik could vividly see her coming down on him speedily and sinking her teeth into his neck, draining him of his blood. What was she? She said that she would give him the power of immortality, superhuman strength, and healing capabilities. Did that include drinking blood too? From what Erik could tell from his razor-sharp senses is that it’s nightfall. His hands reach above him, feeling around since he could only see pitch black. He noticed wood beneath his fingertips. Erik pushed with ease, although the top flew off and landed somewhere far within the distance. He sits up, finally breathing in the night air. 

Erik stares at his hands in bewilderment before looking around him. Erik could see the full moon peeking through the branches of the oak trees. As his eyes moved he could make out a sprawling wooden shack surrounded by a damp, gloomy world. It’s a steamy bayou and the forest within this area looked like a spooky cypress where fireflies flickered in the heavy air. The swamp water surrounding the shack was eerily still. The sprawling shack clings to the branches of a tree within the swamp. This had to be Tia Dalma’s home. 

...Yuh can stay here on muh table and die slowly...or I can give yuh immortality….

Her words rang true in his ears. Tia Dalma saved his life. Erik was about to die by the hands of white men who seeked revenge for burning down their homes and killing their families. He now remembers tasting the mixture of saltwater and freshwater, also known as brackish water in his mouth after being tossed inside the swamp by the white men. The gators would have devoured him in minutes if it wasn’t for him being pulled from the swamp. He figured Tia must have killed those men and rescued him. 

Standing slowly, Erik tested his ability to move by stepping out of what appears to be a wooden coffin and into the shoveled-out ditch. He clearly recovered from the multiple stab wounds to his abdomen. His cream colored linen blend shirt with a collar was still covering his torso even though it was ripped. Erik delicately touches the skin of his much smoother chest, his head lowering to follow his movements with fascination. His blood still stained the shirt that is also covered in dirt and grass stains. Lifting his shirt up, he examined his abdomen, the muscles crunching the more he bends his back to get a good look. 

There are no wounds. The jagged knife used on him to create deep gashes was apparently gone. All that’s left is smooth skin and an eight pack so rock hard that if a mortal punched him their phalanges down to their carpals would be fractured beyond repair. Erik breathes irregularly and his eyes are wide with astonishment. He quickly touched his face and head, his hands moving rapidly with shock. His face is back to normal before the white men kicked, punched, and pistol-whipped him. 

“Wut kind of magic is dis’?” He spoke with a staggering voice. While staring at his hands, a drop of blood landed on his skin. Startled, Erik touches his nose, bringing it down to examine. He’s bleeding. After that realization an insatiable need to eat overpowered him. It hit him so fast and strong that it made his body weaken and stumble. He grabbed at his throat as more blood dripped from his nostrils. Erik lets out agonized gasps that turned into deep growls. His fingers damn near clawed at his throat. He felt like he was going to die if he didn’t eat something, anything.

“Wah yuh still doin’ down dere?” 

Erik turned with great speed towards the direction of the vivid voice. Standing above him, was Tia Dalma herself. She’s wearing the same sheer, black gown Erik remembers, her long, slender dreadlocks framing her face and a sneaky smile was plastered on her black painted lips. 

“Wut happened to me? Did I die?” Erik says while looking up at Tia Dalma with his inky black irises outlined crimson twinkling in the evening night. 

“If yuh climb out of deh, Mama will tell yuh everything,” Tia Dalma steps back, “Come mi child.” 

Erik grabs hold of a few vines sprouting from the soil-covered wall before climbing up with superhuman agility, his body standing before Tia Dalma in a matter of seconds. The speed still amazed him. It felt like everything around him was moving at a slow pace. Tia locked eyes with Erik before circling him. She was especially proud of herself. She finally has a progeny after 175 years of immortality. Tia smelled Erik’s dreadlocks and squeezed his muscles while circling his beautiful frame. 

“I give yuh more life, Erik Stevens. Yuh will walk deh earth unstoppable, like mi,” Tia caresses Erik’s cheek with her sharp, long black nail. He looked her up and down before his eyes moved to the finger on his cheek. He gently brings his hand up, grabbing her finger and bringing it away from his face. 

“Wut am I?” He spoke carefully with squinted eyes. 

“Yuh a Vampr, Erik, a creature of deh night, deh undead.” 

“Ondèd? Mwen? Ondèd?” He walks away, his head moving up, down, and side to side with curiosity and confusion. Mama Dalma watched like a proud mother with her arms crossed, allowing Erik to get a feel of things before she started teaching him. The sooner the better since he’s a newborn. Erik could see with perfect clarity in the darkness of the night, to the point of being able to detect bodily heat emanations. The keenness was comparable on many levels to a bat or owl but ten times more. 

Erik starts moving extremely quick, testing out his new abilities. He would run to the left and stop, then turn and do the same thing, creating diagonal patterns with his movements. This speed made it impossible for him to be detected. The more he moved, the more excited he became. He was like a curious child, wanting to explore what else he was capable of doing. Erik ran towards an oak tree, wrapped his arms around it, and without even trying, he uprooted the entire tree before dropping it. The oak tree landed on the ground heavily, causing it to shake like an earthquake. This startled the animals, leading to a few deer and owls fleeing. 

“Just rampin around huh?” Tia Dalma laughs before walking up to Erik. His eyes are wide and his nostrils flared. All he wanted to do was move. Staying still only agitated him. Mama Dalma grabs his arm, yanking him towards her with her strength superior to Erik’s since she is much older. 

“Ah, yuh have deh bleeds,” Tia wipes Erik’s nose with her fingers, “Deh is what happens when yuh need to eat.” She checked his ears, and sure enough, he’s bleeding from there as well. Erik raises a single brow in question, clearly not understanding a word she was saying. 

“Out and bad, yuh will have deh chance to play, but for now, mi have to teach yuh about what it is to be a vampr. Listen to mi, Erik,” She spoke sternly while grabbing his chin harshly, “Yuh have to feed. Deh is mi first lesson. Feedin’. Come.” 

Tia Dalma grabs Erik’s hand and the both of them zoom off into the night. 

___________________

A white young lady named Isabella Guidry was playing her violin on the open porch of her family's plantation home. The Guidry plantation had about thirty field slaves before they were all freed because of the abolition of slavery. The only negros left we’re the house negros who prepared meals, cleaned, and baby sat. Isabella had just turned 21 years old and she was in preparation to be wed to a veteran named Alex Bellefleur who served as First Lieutenant in the 28th Louisiana Infantry. She suddenly stopped playing her violin when she heard her mother calling for her. 

“Isabella! Come in darling! Yvette has to do ya hair! Ya have to teach the new debutants in da morning!” 

“Coming, mama!” Isabella places her violin back in its case before securing it. She fluffed out her full forest green skirt that reached the ground, the bustle providing fullness in the back. The cream-colored corset top with cotton bell sleeves cinched her waist giving her an hourglass appearance. She stepped inside of the grand plantation home, the eldest house negro named Mabel approaching her cautiously. Mabel was wearing an apron over her withering cotton dress, her silver hair sprouting from underneath her sun bonnet. 

“Miss Isabella, ya needin’ any help?” Mabel asks.

“Just take my violin, please,” Isabella spoke dismissively, “Da last time one of ya broke my precious violin...DONT break this one,” Isabella spoke harshly. 

“Yes ma’am,” Mabel grabs the violin case from Isabella carefully before turning to leave with a limp in her leg.

“Why are ya walking like that, Mabel?” Isabella studied Mabel’s legs.

“Nothin’ just tired is all,” Mabel smiles despite her pain before turning the corner to leave.

“Isabella!” 

Her green eyes looked up to find her mother standing at the top of the stairs dressed in a black gown with a full skirt, her jet black hair pulled to the back of her head in a neat bun, and pearls dangling from her slender neck. She was clutching a handkerchief and before Isabella could ask why her mother began coughing into it. 

“Get up here, Bella. Yvette will put barley curls in ya hair and roll dem up. She’s waiting in ya room.” 

Her mother turns away abruptly, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor before disappearing into her bedroom. Isabella climbs the stairs to her room, worry filling her belly for her mother. When she finally made it to her room, Yvette was waiting for her patiently by her Astoria Grand Vanity. Yvette is a mulatto slave who Isabella’s father treated differently from the others because she’s his secret daughter. Her father slept with a house slave named Edna and impregnated her. Isabella’s mother found out and sold Edna to another plantation; the Compton plantation in St. Tammany Parish. 

“Evenin’ Miss Isabella,” Yvette spoke with her beguiling voice. She has smooth tawny skin, loose curly, sandy brown ringlets framing her face while the rest was hidden beneath a red and khaki tigon, which was simply the French New Orleans version of an African head wrap. She wore a brown southern belle dress with lace drop shoulder sleeves, a low neckline, and a voluminous skirt. Isabella hates that this is her half sister and the fact that she gets to dress so nicely. 

“Who gave ya dat dress?” Isabella asks with an attitude and jealous eyes. 

“I made it, Miss Isabella,” Yvette blinks her chocolate brown eyes away, “I have to do ya hair.”

“I know, barely curls,” Isabella takes a seat at her vanity, her eyes sharp on Yvette. Yvette could feel her burning holes through her head with her furious eyes while she took down Isabella’s black hair. Yvette grabs a brush to smooth it down, “Well? Wut are ya waitin’ on?! Do my hair!” 

“Yes, Miss Isabella,” Yvette moved at a faster pace before grabbing a clip to pin up some of Isabella’s dark strands. 

“I hate ya,” Isabella didn’t hesitate to say, “Ya brought down my family, ya negro tramp.” 

Yvette bites her tongue. She had a lot that she wanted to say to Isabella but she would only end up killed. It wasn’t her fault that her father slept with her mother, Edna, around the same time Isabella’s mother was pregnant. Yvette didn’t ask to be here. She couldn’t control the fact that she was half white, even though she despised that side of her because of how they treated blacks. Yvette will always feel disgusted about that part of her. While Yvette began working on Isabella’s hair, wetting a few strands, a scream rang out from her mother’s room. It went on a few more times, the sound so scary it made Isabella’s fingers tremble. Yvette was in the middle of wrapping Isabella’s damp hair around a piece of soft rag to form the curls when she stopped, a startled expression on her face. 

“What da hell?” Isabella stands, “mama?” She called. Her father wasn’t home yet from an outing with her fiancé, Alex, and the rest of the men for drinks, preferably hard apple cider and rum. It was unnaturally quiet. A pin dropping would probably echo throughout the room from how silent it was. Isabella lets out a panting breath before standing from her vanity. Yvette began to quickly clean Isabella’s vanity, her hands shaky. She heard tales about Ricardo Dupoux and his revolt burning down plantations throughout Louisiana. She didn’t want to be around for it to happen. 

“Go see what dat noise is!” Isabella ordered. Yvette pauses, giving Isabella a dirty look. 

“Did I stutter, nigger?! Go see what dat is! NOW!” Isabella yells with a trembling finger pointed to the door. 

Yvette drops the items in her hand onto the vanity before gathering the bottom of her dress to walk away. Before she could even make it to the door it was torn from its hinges. Yvette runs to the other side of the room, tripping over the bottom of her dress, and falling to the floor while Isabella screams, falling back against her bed. Standing at the door, both bodies covered in blood, is a black man and a black woman. Their eyes are round with pitch black irises, mouths wide open and sharp fangs protruding automatically to threaten. Their faces from the nose down are covered in blood and some of it stained their clothes. The woman, however, barely wore any fabric, her small breasts with hardened nipples and her hairy mound clearly visible. 

“WHO ARE YA?!!! WHAT DID YA DO TO MY MAMA?!!!” Isabella yells with fear. Yvette was hugging herself in a corner, tears filling her eyes as she prayed in Haitian creole. 

“Chè Bondye, tanpri, mwen pa vle mouri,” She sobbed while praying. 

“No use in cryin’ child, hush yuh mouth,” Mama Dalma spoke with an evil tongue, “hole yuh cahna, gurl,” She insulted Isabella, putting her in her place when she kept yelling about how they are a bunch of niggers and how her father will find them and kill them. 

Erik tasted his first victim and it was glorious. It was like an unimaginable, indescribable sweet heavenly nectar. It’s like being able to perpetually exist off nothing but sweet desserts without any negative health repercussions. The taste of Isabella’s mother's blood reminded him of fresh gala apples. It satisfied his hunger but it didn’t give him that feeling he yearned for, a feeling close to an orgasm. A feeling close to his dick chubbing up in his brown knickers. As he stared at Isabella with predatory eyes, he could hear her heart racing, and smell her fear, a scent that Erik relished. While he was draining Isabella’s mother dry he could hear Isabella’s heartbeat through the thick walls. His new powers as the undead allowed him to see Isabella’s blood and brain activity as well. 

“Mwen pa ka tann pou tiye sa a,” Erik spoke with a deep, gravelly voice before licking blood from his chin with his thick pink tongue. Mama Dalma gave him a seductive look, her clit jumping below her tightly coiled pubic hair. Yvette shudders from his words. He said he couldn’t wait to kill Isabella. Yvette wondered if he would say the same about her. 

“Eat mi child,” Mama Dalma says with a wave of her hand, granting Erik permission to drain Isabella dry. Mama Dalama couldn’t keep her eyes off of Erik’s blood-covered lips and fangs. Isabella tried to run with a high-pitched scream filling the room but Erik already detected her escape, running up on her at a whizzing speed that ripped through the air, grabbing her by the back of her frail neck and slamming her face first on the hardwood floor. Erik twisted her neck painfully before sinking his fangs deep into her pulsating jugular vein. Since he’s new, he drank from Isabella with so much excitement to taste her blood that Tia had to stand by him to instruct him. 

“Patience, Erik, slow down,” Mama Dalma moves some of his dreads from his face, “Feel her heartbeat...yuh feel that? Yuh hear it slowing up? Deh is what yuh want to look for. When yuh feedin’ yuh must never take deh last breath or it will draw yuh in and yuh will drop out. If yuh plan on feeding yuh have to learn how to do it without killing dem, yuh know?” 

Isabella’s cries grew fainter and fainter. Yvette was staring her in the eyes, watching the life drain from her body. Tears of fear fell from Yvette’s eyes and a hand came up to cover her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. She didn’t understand what she was witnessing before her eyes. 

“Good job, Big up yourself,” Mama Dalma congratulates Erik on properly feeding from his victim, “Now, yuh may finish her off.” 

Erik didn’t need to be told twice. He sank his fangs deeper, ripping the flesh from her neck, and in a matter of seconds, Isabella was lifeless. Erik retracted his fangs before dropping her body to the floor with a loud thud. Her blood was much better than her mother’s, it tasted like cinnamon apples. He could easily tell Isabella and her mother apart from their bodily odor, down to their blood types.

“Now, appreciate yuh prey,” Mama Dalma smashes Isabella’s head like a watermelon with her bare foot, “Deh are food, and only food.” She reminds a newborn Erik. 

“More,” Erik says while the blood of his victims electrified his body. 

“There’s one more,” Mama Dalma points her sharp black claw nail at Yvette, “She’s a pretty one too...I bet she tastes better,” Mama Dalma says with a honeyed voice. 

The echo-sensitivity of Erik’s hearing is what made him notice Yvette. When his eyes landed on hers and his nose sniffed the air she openly cried, her hands flailing and pretty face stained with tears. His sheer speed made it impossible for Yvette to escape. Erik picks Yvette up by her neck and slams her against the wall, grabbing her chin to aggressively turn her head so that he could have access to her neck, or, another area…

“Mwen...Mwen...bèl, Mwen,” His eyes are glued to the copious amount of cleavage she has spilling over the top of her dress. Her skin was translucent to him and he could see her veins and arteries contracting and pushing blood throughout her. Then, Erik could hear her heart like ritual drums pounding his ears. She smelled so...good. Her scent was like Heliotropes with their vivid purple beauty that reminded Erik of cherry pie. 

“Tanpri, pa touye m’. Mwen ansent!!!” She pleaded and shook with fear, “Mwen gen yon ti bebe k ap grandi andedan mwen!!” She couldn’t look Erik in his killer eyes. 

Erik retracted his fangs, his eyes tearing away from Yvette’s cleavage with great restraint. He lets go of Yvette walking away to control himself. Yvette slides down the wall to the floor clutching her belly. She trembled as she cried. Erik clenched his fists, trying his best to control his breathing and his temptations to drain her dry. 

“Erik? Wuh are yuh doing?!!!” Mama Dalma spoke with rage, speeding over to Erik and standing in front of him, “Yuh stopped...why did Yuh do deh?!” Mama Dalma was hysterical. 

“Not dis one,” Erik spoke with a low trembling voice, “She’s pregnant.” 

Mama Dalma tilted her head up at Erik before grabbing his chin roughly, causing her sharp nails to sink into the flesh of his cheeks, drawing blood,“Yuh came here to feed, right? Wat a gwaan? Yuh killed the other two just fine. Yuh can’t have remorse, it’s not in our nature.” 

“I can’t do it,” Erik moves his head away from Mama Dalma’s grip, “There has to be another way, I can’t-I can’t kill her.” 

Mama Dalma’s eyes were scornful on Erik. He didn’t cower under her gaze because he knew she wouldn’t kill him, she needed him, that much Erik could tell. 

Mama Dalma closes her eyes with a shake of her head, “Yuh queff dem whites...Yuh need to glamour this one then, wipe her memory.” 

Erik’s eyes narrowed with confusion. 

“It's a form of hypnosis. Come, I’ll show Yuh.” 

Both Mama Dalma and Erik dash to Yvette causing her to scream. Erik places a hand over her mouth to calm her but it wasn’t working. Mama Dalma rolls her eyes with frustration, preferring to kill her but Erik did need to learn how to glamour his victims. 

“Alright, now, stare into her eyes.” 

Erik locks eyes with Yvette. 

“Keep eye contact...yes...now, yuh will feel yourself invading her mind...when yuh feel that connection, hold it with all Yuh might. Now...use your voice to compel her to do wuh yuh want her to do...now try.” 

Erik felt tethered to Yvette’s mind. It was hard to hold on but Erik pushed himself to keep Yvette under his control. He liked the challenge and if this was going to be his life he needed to do it right the first time. That was the perfectionist in him, even as Ricardo Dupoux. 

“...I’m going to release ya mouth now….” Erik spoke calmly and carefully. Yvette didn’t make a sound as Erik’s hand left her mouth. She stared at him with a dazed expression like she was in a dream-like state. 

“Tell me, what’s ya name, girl?” Erik asks. 

“Yvette,” She spoke with reverie.

“Yvette...ya very lucky tonight. Ya get to leave dis plantation and never look back. Ya can find ya family, and be free with ya babies,” Erik smiles with his blood stained lips and deep charming dimples causing Yvette to smile. 

“I can finally see my mama?” even in a stupor, Yvette couldn’t fight the tears of joy falling from her eyes. 

“Yeah, ya can go to ya mama. Ya won’t remember wut happened here tonight, ya never even saw me, or her,” Erik reaches out to stroke Yvette’s face. She leaned into his touch while staring at him like she was stuck in a daydream. 

“Now, I’m gonna let ya go now, girl. Forget this plantation, just keep going and don’t look back, ya hear me?” 

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl, now, go on, love, leave and never, ever look back.” Erik stressed while holding the eye contact he had with her. Yvette blinked her pretty chocolate brown eyes at him like she was under a love spell, “Say, yes sir so I know you understand what I’m telling ya to do.” 

“Yes sir,” Yvette says with a nod of her head. Erik left her in suspended animation while Yvette lifted from the floor, gathering the front of her dress, and walking out of the room. She was gone. 

“Yuh gonna tell mi wuh happened back dere?” 

Erik turned to Mama Dalma and she was on him in a flash, slamming him to the floor hard and breaking the floorboards beneath him. His fangs extended and he hissed at her with his dark eyes unblinking on her. Mama Dalma’s hands are a blur as she holds Erik down with his arms above his head. She hissed in his face harder, her fangs inches away from biting a hole through his pouty bottom lip. 

“Yuh enjoy misbehaving I see. Let me tell yuh something,” She spoke with venom, “I am Yuh maker, I created yuh, and I can take Yuh life away,” She snaps her fingers before dragging her hand down his body to his crotch, squeezing his erection hard,  “Just...like...deh, do yuh understand? I command yuh, I have a link to Yuh body and when I call on yuh...yuh come to mama,” She whispered before pushing off of him with great speed, standing above him. 

“Retract yuh fangs,” She says. Erik glared at her on that floor, disobeying her yet again. 

“As yuh maker, I COMMAND YUH TO RETRACT YUH FANGS...NOW!” Her voice boomed. 

Erik retracted them without any more trouble. 

“Good boy,” She says, “Now get up. I’m not finished feedin’.” 

_______________

There are rows of Cajun homes within New Orleans that belonged to many white people. Some were plantations, others were of regular architecture. Mama Dalma and Erik have been feeding all night and it would be dawn soon in a couple of hours. Since Tia has already killed the men that attempted to kill Erik, Erik seeked revenge on their families. They couldn’t walk into the homes unless they were invited which is what got them inside of the Guidry plantation. An elder house negro named Mabel invited them inside when Mama Dalma persuaded her. As soon as Mama Dalma and Erik stepped into the home, Mama Dalma killed Mabel by draining her blood through her throat. 

Mama Dalma made Erik glamor each white person that owned the homes so they could invite them inside to kill them. Bloody footprints made a trail up the road to each and every home. Children, mothers, and fathers all lay in a bloody pile for the flies to swarm them. It was sensual and addictive to feed from his victims. He didn’t feel sexual attraction towards them, especially the racists whites all over New Orleans, but the tastier the blood, the harder his dick became. His mortal life was becoming an afterthought, especially with what happened at the Guidry plantation. He couldn’t bring himself to kill Yvette, even as a newborn, because she was pregnant. Her fear and her words made him think about Justine Dupoux; his wife, and his two little girls, Rose Fabiola Dupoux and Felicie Ines Dupoux. 

With Dawn approaching, Mama Dalma and Erik are simply walking through the bayou, dried blood on their skin from head to toe. Mama Dalma tells Erik the story of how she was created. A mob of pirates came looking for her to kill her because of a curse she placed on them. They hunted her down and each of them took turns raping and stabbing her to death. She was coughing up her own blood in her shack in Cuba similar to the one she has in New Orleans. Just minutes later, a handsome vampr with smooth bronze skin, a broad and hooked nose, thick curly hair, and a tall, slender frame cane upon her. He said he had traveled from the Eastern Desert that extends from the Nile Valley all the way to the Red Sea Coast. He was stunned by Mama Dalma’s bravery and beauty, so he granted her the gift of immortality. 

Erik impressed Mama Dalma for his thirst for things. She, however, knew that Erik was going to be trouble since he’s not used to taking orders from anyone. Within their walk in the remaining hours of darkness, Mama Dalma taught Erik all about the world of a vampire and its history from what her maker shared with her. As for Erik’s new powers, he was beside himself with the pleasure of it all. He will live forever, he is strong and unstoppable, and he can hypnotize people at will. One downside to it all was that he was going to miss the feeling of the sun on his skin, releasing endorphins such as serotonin; proven to improve mood, and energy, and increase feelings of calm and focus. Another downside stood before his eyes right now. Erik didn’t mean to come here. 

Hiding in the trees, Erik stares at his old home. It was a beautiful forest retreat surrounded by green. He remembers building this home from the ground up. Focusing his eyes, Erik can see an oil lamp ignited in the small window of the living room. Just beyond the glass, Justine could be seen praying with Erik’s mother, Fabiola. He could hear them calling on the spirits for help to bring Erik back to them. Rose and Felicie are sound asleep in their beds. Erik can hear their soft breaths. He couldn’t stop thinking about all the times he would enter that home, kicking off his riding boots and sneaking up on his wife while she sewed their daughters clothing, placing a delicate kiss to her neck before trailing those kisses down to his wife’s copious cleavage. He could almost feel her curves against his solid frame. Then, the smell of his daughter's hair; a lavender scent. They were always so happy to see him. 

“Come on, we’ve stayed long enough,” Mama Dalma says with a hand to Erik’s shoulder, “A vampire's life is a life of discretion.”

“Discretion?” Erik looks down at Mama Dalma as his eyes become glossy before they leaked bloody tears, “Why must we hide, Mama Dalma? We are da powerful, we are da immortal, we should walk fearless in da open,” Erik spoke with a raucous voice. He didn’t like that he had to leave his family behind. Stopping here to see his home one final time was a grave mistake. 

“Deh cannot be, mi child,” Mama Dalma wipes away Erik’s bloody tears with her fingers, slipping them into her mouth to clean off, “Mortals must never know bout’ us for deh sake of our kind-

“So I can never know my family?!!!” Erik’s voice was thick with emotion.

“Not unless yuh plan on killing all of dem. Yuh have to cut out, Erik,” She steps closer to him, her eyes more serious, “Yuh must be dead to deh world.” 

“I can’t accept dat,” He steps away. 

“As yuh maker, I command yuh to leave yuh family behind.” 

Erik’s body felt like it was being controlled just from those words alone. Mama Dalma starts walking away, and Erik has no other choice but to follow her while bloody tears stained his cheeks. 

“Yuh will do nothing but feed and feed until yuh are satisfied. We are savages, it is time for yuh to understand deh...I am sick of repeating myself wit yuh,” Mama Dalma scolds, “Now, let us go to ground until tomorrow night, I’m craving infant blood,” Mama Dalma wickedly laughs while twirling around in a state of euphoria, her hands playing in her dreadlocks, “I know where deh newborn nursery is at Charity Hospital!! Nice, plump babies!!!” 

Tia Dalma is the epitome of vampiric evil and malice, all because of her abusive, cold-hearted, and manipulative maker named Abasi. Abasi and Tia traveled all over from South America, Africa, Europe, and North America.Together, Abasi using Tia’s abilities to seduce and entice men and women, he lured them into his clutches, thereby raping and murdering countless men and women then mutilating their bodies. Abasi created a sadistic vampire. Erik has yet to see what Mama Dalma is capable of and she couldn’t wait to transform him into a male version of herself, just as cruel, limitless, sadistic, and torturous. 

____________________

It is the year 1891, three years after Erik Stevens was made vampr. Mama Dalma and Erik often traveled to the French Quarter, also known as Vieux Carré and Barrio Francés. Anglophone Americans and Francophone Creoles would meet and do business in both French and English. It was a big tourist destination. There are multi-story Creole townhouses with businesses occupying ground floors and living quarters above. There were railroad tracks, warehouses, and industries built near the riverfront. Some wealthy Quarter residents relocated to Esplanade Avenue and North Rampart Street when things became overcrowded. Here, Mama Dalma and Erik felt most alive at night. It’s been a while since Erik came to the French Quarter. 

The old Lalaurie mansion that was burned down by a mob in 1834 and remodeled in 1838 is used as a public school for girls. Evening parades with drunken civilians who engaged in sex and violence thrilled Mama Dalma and Erik. There is a luxury hotel that Mama Dalma and Erik often decide to bombard and take the riches from the wealthy whites after draining them. Erik especially loved to steal three piece lounge suits and polished shoes for himself from local shops. He looked dapper with the slim fit, always wearing his jackets partially undone to reveal the high buttoning waistcoats and watch-chain. He didn’t bother buttoning his shirt since he preferred it to be open to show off his defined pectorals and sculpted eight pack. He still dawned the Vodou jewelry he adored so much.

Mama Dalma is a confident woman who screams sex. She often wore long, sheer gowns that gave you a view of her nudity. She wore heavy jewelry like Erik and dark makeup that made her inky black eyes pop. She was determined to fuck Erik, waiting patiently for him to finally accept his new life. It took him over a year to freely accept being a vampire. He never talked about his family again which made Mama Dalma very happy, especially if he was going to be her lover. It was his compelling eyes, his remarkable body, his voice, the way he fed on his victims, how his dick would thicken and leave an enormous bulge that she wanted nothing more but to ride, suck, and nibble on with her fangs. She noticed the way women; white and black, looked at him. She noticed a lot of traits in his new vampire body. Erik is calculating, disobedient because he didn’t like to be told what to do and when to do it, seductive, calm and methodical unless pushed towards a lethal violence with surprising strength for a newborn. 

One evening, Mama Dalma and Erik visit a brothel, posing as a wealthy black couple. The prostitutes of the brothel were a mixture of races; French Creoles, Spanish, Haitian Creoles, African Americans, White Americans, and the list goes on. It’s been three years since Erik had sex with a woman. He would often lure and seduce them to kill them or feed but not to have sex. Seeing all of the half naked women offering themselves to him stirred something within him that he hadn’t felt since his wife. He could never see them again so there was no use in denying himself of what he craved besides drinking blood. Mama Dalma sensed his struggle and decided to let Erik have some fun while she watched, that is, until she intervenes.

 Erik chose a beautiful African American girl named Althea who physically reminded him of his wife; short, curves in all the right places, and lips so round and full he wondered how good they tasted. She wore tight, barely curls in her hair and Victorian lingerie with a corset in a peach color. She looked timid, constantly staring at her bare feet to avoid Erik’s piercing black eyes. Just simply extending his hand for her to grasp made her gasp. When Erik took her to a room draped in red velvet with fancy suede red furniture lit by an electric lantern, he informed her that Mama Dalma simply wanted to watch them have sex. This poor girl Althea didn’t know what was coming to her. Mama Dalma took a seat in a corner, removing her long coat and revealing her sheer gown underneath. 

“I’ve never done dis before...having a woman watch me,” Althea whispered nervously. 

“Just act like she’s not even there, girl,” Erik kisses down Althea’s neck, “Ya like da way I kiss?” 

“Yes,” Althea gasps when Erik’s tongue snakes down her neck to her cleavage, “Ya sure love to lick my skin, Sir,” Althea laughs nervously. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of Mama Dalma. 

“Ya smell just like honey,” Erik drags his nose along Althea’s skin, “I bet ya taste like honey too, girl...right here,” Erik says while rubbing her pussy lips through her lingerie. 

“Please,” Althea lays back in the bed, “ya so handsome, I need ya to fuck me.” 

Mama Dalma brings her hand down between her legs, resting her fingers over her curly pubic hair. Wet wasn’t even the word to describe how slick her folds are. Watching Erik undress Althea made her fangs extend on its own. Luckily, she’s in the shadows and Althea can’t see. Erik used one had to rip Althea’s corset and lingerie from her body, causing her to moan from his aggressiveness. Althea has nice big, round breasts with dark chocolate areolas and nipples. Mama Dalma could only imagine how it must feel to sink her teeth into all that flesh. 

“Goddamn, girl,” Erik practically rips his shirt from his body followed by his waistcoat, trousers, and shoes. Althea couldn’t believe the body before her was real. She touched Erik with intriguing eyes filled with so much desire they began to water. 

“What a beautiful man,” Althea expresses, “What are ya?” 

“Ya Master,” Erik gives Althea a wicked smile, “And da one dat plans on making ya cum,” He licks his lips before leaning forward to suck on Althea’s nipples. 

Her heart rate banged in his ears and the constant pulse coming from her veins and arteries was driving him insane. He was extremely hungry and after three years of being a vampire his control became better. His fangs didn’t extend prematurely anymore, now, Erik could control it. Althea’s sweet moans made his fat dick cast iron hard. He quickly drags his lips down Althea’s body while she grabs a fist full of his long, slender dreadlocks. Erik wasted no time while bringing Althea’s legs up and out, causing her to whimper. The smell of her inner folds was what caused his fangs to extend. Althea heard it and lifted to try and see but Erik held her down with a single hand around her throat while he vigorously lapped at her pussy. Pussy. He forgot how amazing it tasted but with his heightened senses he had to be licking grains of sugar. 

“Oh, yes, oh God, yes,” Althea was gripping the sheets while struggling to breath from Erik’s strong hand around her neck, “Yes, Master, eat my pussy like dat.” 

Mama Dalma was rubbing her clit in a circular motion with her razor sharp eyes focused on the way Erik’s tongue would lick Althea’s pussy. That thick, pink tongue would flick Althea’s clit up and down and then he would occasionally move that muscle side to side up and down Althea’s inner folds. She was nice and engorged down there, her hips constantly jerking like she wanted to shower Erik with her liquid. The minute Erik’s full lips wrapped around Althea’s clit and labia, Mama Dalma slips three fingers into her pussy to stroke herself. Althea couldn’t handle it. Mama Dalma however would have taken that sweet torture like a champion. 

“Unh! Unh! I’m cumming! Master, I’m cumming!” 

Althea’s hips levitated off of the bed and Erik followed her movements with his lips still sucking on her clit. 

“Jesus,” Mama Dalma whispers, “Yuh tore deh girl up, Erik...her pussy is nice and wet now.” 

Erik’s lips slowly pulled off of Althea’s clit to place kisses along her inner thighs. He licked with a circular motion to make her shiver before sinking her teeth into her thigh. Althea screams, yanking Erik’s dreadlocks. Her entire body spasms beneath him, soft whimpers escaping her mouth. She didn’t understand what was going on. Erik retracted his fangs before licking her blood up that constantly leaked. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before kneeling between Althea’s legs with his dick in hand. Althea watched him clutch that long pipe before bringing her knees back further. 

“It’s so big,” She says with a stunned voice, her hands holding her pussy lips open now with desperation, “ya fucking me wit dat?” She was nervous and aroused at the same time. 

“All of dat,” he leans over Althea’s body, his dick in one hand and his other hand wrapped around her curly strands. Erik rubbed the wide tip of his dick against her clit before slowly entering Althea. She let out ragged breaths with her mouth unhinged. Erik licked and kissed all over Althea’s neck all while his hips were pistoning in and out of Althea’s pussy. The entire bed would moved, the brass headboard banging against the wall covered in elegant ornate French Victorian wallpaper that is a black and red color. 

“Fuck, dis pussy is so tight,” He whispers. 

“It’s so much dick, Master, so much dick!!!!” Althea pushes at Erik’s chest but he wasn’t going anywhere, “Jesus! it is filling me up!! unh, FUCK!”

“Ya better take all dis dick I’m giving ya girl,” He whispered to her, “Don’t run from me, I’ll hold ya down and fuck ya some more.” 

Mama Dalma moaned from his words before bringing her fingers to her mouth to taste herself. With her spit covered fingers she rubs her clit, bringing one leg up so she could have a better reach. She could only imagine the pleasure Althea was experiencing. The more Erik fucked her the more possessive Mama Dalma became. Althea was taking all that dick, dick that belonged to Mama Dalma. Erik’s stroke was dangerous. The muscles in his back rippled and flexed each time he entered Althea. 

“Ya making me cum again!” Althea twisted her head to the side, tears falling from her eyes, and moaning into the pillow beneath her, “UNH GOD!” 

Erik’s inky black irises dilated when he saw Althea’s jugular vein protrude from her neck. While stroking her, Erik takes a single finger to trace her vein before extending his fangs from simply flexing his jaw, startling her by coming down on her with speed, his teeth sinking right into her vein. Like a pipe bursting, Althea’s blood spilled into Erik’s mouth. His eyes rolled and the grip he had on her hair became painful and uncomfortable. Her screams turned into scared cries as her hands attempted to push him off of her. 

“Yes, feed, mi child!!! take her blood!!!” Mama Dalma felt overwhelming joy and lust instead of a building orgasm since she is the undead. Mama Dalma sucked the lubrication from her fingers before speeding over to the bed. She moves Erik’s dreadlocks out of the way so she could sink her teeth into Althea’s right breast. The fleshy area was like a cushion for Mama Dalma’s lips while she fed off of her. Althea could do nothing but cry. Erik continues to fuck her until his body tingled and the same overwhelming lust that Mama Dalma felt blasted through him. It was strange and intriguing to not ejaculate but still very powerful like an orgasm. It hit him so hard that the hand in Althea’s hair yanked some of her strands out. Blood began to soak the sheets and Althea’s body soon became lifeless. 

“FUCK,” Erik stares at Althea’s dead body. Her blood was so rich and sweet Erik couldn’t help but to lick and suck on his fingers. His dick was standing straight up and pointed out with deep veins and a tight sack. 

“I’m gonna suck and fuck deh sweet dick so good, Erik,” Mama Dalma grabs Erik’s dick, her fingers barely touching, “Oooh, it’s so damn thick.” 

“I bet ya been wanting to suck dis dick for a long time...wut took ya so long? Huh?” He says with a sly smirk. 

“Eva since I first laid eyes on yuh.”

Mama Dalma forces Erik to the bed with her superior strength. Erik’s fangs retracted instantly when Mama Dalma started stroking his dick. Erik hisses while taking his strong hand to rip Mama Dalma’s dress to shreds, revealing her toned body with small breasts. Mama Dalma lowered her head between Erik’s legs and with her superhuman strength and stamina, Mama Dalma tightened her jaws and bobbed her head expertly to fill her entire throat with his dick. She would suck him all the way down to the base and back up. 

“Fuck, kenbe souse m’tankou sa,” Erik closes his eyes, “sa kaka santi li tèlman bon,” He spoke gruffly between moans. He was telling Mama Dalma how good it felt and that she needed to keep sucking on him. Erik felt a pinprick on the side of his shaft that made him bite down on his pouty bottom lip, drawing blood. Mama Dalma was tasting the blood from the throbbing and protruding veins of his meaty length. Erik instantly healed from her bite. 

“Yuh are one sexy man, Erik, and yuh are mine. I always get wuh I want. I will take it by force if I have to. Deh dick is mine, yuh hear me? Alllllllllll Mine.” 

Mama Dalma couldn’t be stopped the more she gave Erik fellatio. Suck long, suck hard, and suck often. That’s exactly what she will do every chance she gets. With Erik’s newfound strength, his dick was practically impenetrable; unyielding; tremendously solidified. That pleasure stick will have Mama Dalma feeling intimacy stronger than she ever did in her early vampire life. It was different at first for Mama Dalma to be sexual but not in a reproductive way. Since discovering Erik, she felt the strongest sexual lust in her 175 years of being a vampire. Mama Dalma mounted Erik speedily, grabbing his dick at the base before lowering herself on him. 

None of the sex is quite as good as vampire sex, though, which can happen at the astonishing rhythm of 120 bpm while simultaneously devouring one’s neck and making your eyes roll back into your head. If they go from a base level, vampires create a hole in the neck where there wasn’t one before. It’s a devirginization—breaking the hymen, creating blood and then drinking the virginal blood. And there’s something sharp, the fang, which is probing and penetrating and moving into it which is pretty sexy. 

As she bounced on his dick Erik fed from her neck, tasting the very blood that heightened the feeling like ecstasy. His strong, powerful hips met hers in sort of a race to see who was in charge. Mama Dalma clawed at Erik’s chest with her sharp nails, creating deep claw marks that healed instantly. Her nimble body moved at a swift speed above Erik causing him to grip her hips to try and keep her in place. They were fucking so hard and fast that the bed banged against the floor loudly. The mind-blowing passion was most exhilarating while feeding. It’s not simply “feeding” but it’s sex, breathing, having the best dinner you’ve ever had, feeling the life force of another filling you and making your flagging essence re-surge with vitality. It bolstered your sense of well-being as well as gave life to your body, mind, and demon spirit. 

The sensation of feeding is akin to an orgasm, but even more powerfully so in some instances, particularly when properly hungry, which is why stopping can be an issue for vampires. That’s what Erik was experiencing. He lets out a guttural rasp, gasping for air until Mama Dalma finally stops. Erik sucked on her nipples and trailed kisses all over her flesh before forcing her head down so he could nibble on her lips with his fangs. Her moans were stuck in her throat the more Erik fed from her lips. She couldn’t get enough of it, and neither could he. 

_____________________

After three months of torture, kill, and sex, Erik became concerned for his family’s welfare when a pox epidemic broke out. Just when he was finally accepting his vampire life, Erik was soon reminded of his mortal family and how they must be struggling to survive. Maybe the faith of the Vodou Religion kept them stable but this epidemic was killing hundreds of people. After Mama Dalma and Erik had sex at their home in the shack, Mama Dalma went to ground earlier and that gave Erik an opportunity to check in on his family. He speeds over to his forest home, peeking through the trees to see how things were. It was dark inside, almost lifeless. Erik became afraid and made the risky choice to approach the home. Out in the clearing now, Erik walked towards the home, nervous and afraid for his family to see him like this. 

“Ricardo?! Ricardo se ke ou?!” 

It was Justine, standing on the porch wearing a poor Victorian style dress made from cotton with her hair wrapped in a tigon. She looked exhausted with dark circles under her eyes. She was 30-years-old now, and his daughters would be 8-years-old. Fabiola’s birthday had just passed in August, she turned 56-years-old. All of the time had slipped away. Living as a vampire, time wasn’t important with the exception of when dawn was approaching. Justine had lost weight, her fullness that Erik loved no longer there. 

“Kote ou te ye?!!” She yells while running down the front steps to their home. She wrapped her arms around Erik’s neck, pulling him down into a tight, suffocating hug. Erik’s nose landed in her hair and it smelled earthy, floral, sweet, and relaxing. This was the scent he remembered. It took all of his will power not to sink his teeth into her neck. They stayed like that for some time while she weeped into his cotton shirt. 

“Ti fi Yo? Manman m?” Erik asks, pulling Justine away by her upper arms so that he could look at her. He asked where the girls and his mother were. Justine broke down crying again, her knees buckling. Erik held her tightly while a crease formed in his brow. 

“Ricardo, ou ta dwe retounen!!!! Poukisa ou kite nou!!!!” Justine attempted to push Erik over and over but he wasn’t moving. 

Hearing Justine refer to him as Ricardo felt strange. He almost forgot that was his birth name. 

“I had to leave...for ya safety...dem white men would have killed all of ya.” Erik squeezed her tightly to calm her down.

“Fabiola...li mouri.” Justine’s voice was barely audible when she told him the news. Erik felt like he was dying all over again. Fabiola was dead. 

“How?” He asks, holding back his tears. 

“Fever... a year ago... couldn’t save her...she died in her sleep,” Justine’s words halted as she began to cry again, “Her last dyin’ wish was to see ya again but ya never came back!” Justine looked at him like she was looking at a stranger, “Ya look so different, Ricardo.” 

“Da girls, Justine, I want to see dem,” Erik says. 

“Ya too late,” Justine fought for oxygen in his arms. 

Erik’s eyes grew wide and he stormed past Justine and into the house. There, lying in a coffin, was Rose Fabiola Dupoux and Felicie Ines Dupoux. They are dressed in cotton gowns, one purple and one pink with floral crowns and white dress shoes. Their coily hair is long and luscious, even in death. The last time he saw them they were five years old, running through the little garden in their yard, playing hide-n-seek. They were covered in pox that left nasty scars on their beautiful melanin skin. Erik couldn’t stop the bloody tears that began to flow. He walked up to their wooden coffins, his hands reaching out to touch them. Erik dropped to his knees, loud, uncontrollable sobs filling the room as his body shook. 

“I tried, Ricardo...dere was nothin’ I could do,” Justine kneeled by his side, resting her head against his shoulder, “Dese precious girls…I prayed to Papa Ghede for help but nothing worked. I’ve exhausted all of my tears…I accept dat dem girls have to go...Marie is dead, ya mother is dead...I had no one to turn to.”

Erik stands, walking up to each of his daughters to place a final kiss to their heads. He felt disgusting. If he wouldn’t have chosen this life, he would have been here for his daughters, he would have been here for mother, and he would have been here to comfort his grieving wife. He couldn’t begin to understand what Justine was going through. She assumed that Erik had perished when he left their home to go with Augusto. Justine clings to Erik so tightly she was afraid he would slip through her fingers. Erik tried to hide his face from her but Justine’s delicate fingers smoothed his dreads from his face so that she could give him a kiss. It’s been three years. 

“Ricardo, ya so cold,” She says before her eyes fell upon the bloody tears spilling from his eyes. Frightened, Justine practically leaps away from him before grabbing a shotgun that used to be Erik’s. She pointed it at Erik’s back with her shaky hands before cocking the gun.

“Who are ya?! Wut did ya do with my husband? Ya not Ricardo, ya are a demon!!!! A zombie!!!” Ricardo turns, his hands up in surrender. The blood tears made him look like a monster. 

“Justine, it’s me...it’s Ricardo,” Erik walks towards her, “I won’t hurt ya. I just wanted to check on ya to make sure everything was fine. I can’t stay, not like dis-

“DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!!!” Justine yells, “I WILL SHOOT YA!!!”

“Justine-

Pop! 

Justine shoots Erik in the chest. He stumbles back with disbelief that she just shot him before his eyes went down to stare at his wound. The bullet wound healed immediately causing the bullet fragments to fall on the floor. Justine drops the gun, screaming at the top of her lungs while running towards the door. 

“Justine! Wait!” Erik was right on her tail but his maker, Mama Dalma unexpectedly appeared at the door. She grabs Justine, pulling her towards her and holding her hostage with her hands, yanking the tigon from her head and grabbing her by her hair, pushing her down to her knees. Erik’s fangs extended, ready to attack Mama Dalma. Justine gawked at the sight of his fangs. She was ready to scream but Mama Dalma brought her to her feet speedily, wrapping a single hand around her neck. 

“If yuh so much as scream, I will rip yuh throat out,” She spoke between clenched teeth before showing Justine her fangs, “I don’t care if yuh are Ricardo’s wife or not, I will FUCKIN’ kill yuh.” Mama Dalma snarled in Justine’s face, scaring her half to death. Justine was paralyzed with fear. 

“Tia, let her go...now,” Erik says as anger stirred within him. 

“Yuh planned on leaving mi? Erik?” 

Panic surged through Justine, “Erik?! Who is Erik?!” 

“Yuh hear deh? She wants to know who Erik is…tell her, Erik, tell her who deh is,” The corners of her mouth quirked up into an evil smile, “TELL HER!!!!” 

“I’m Erik, Justine,” Erik spoke to Justine but his eyes were focused on Mama Dalma. 

“So, if yuh Erik, why would Yuh come back after I told Yuh not to? Dis isn’t yuh life anymore. When yuh left yuh home that night, yuh left Ricardo behind.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Justine’s stomach clenched. 

“Of course yuh wouldn’t understand, child, it’s alright, yuh won’t see Erik anymore after dis...Erik, yuh know wuh yuh have to do, right?”

“Tia-

“DO IT. It’s either deh, or I kill her.” 

“I can’t do dat to her-

“So killin’ her is better? Fine,” Tia was on Justine fast, Feeding on her viciously from her neck. Justine’s throat tightened and she could no longer scream. 

“STOP!” Erik speeds over to Mama Dalma only for her to push him off of the porch. Erik fell painfully against the ground. 

“AS YUH MAKER-

“ENOUGH!!!” Erik yelled so loud his voice could probably be heard a mile away, “Awrite, I’ll do it...I’ll glamor her.” 

Tia drops Justine carelessly, “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

Justine’s body felt numb and the blood froze in her veins. Erik approached her, his eyes locking with hers, holding her gaze before finally connecting with her brain. Justine was transfixed under Erik’s spell. He tried to hold back his tears but they disobeyed him. 

“Justine,” Erik strokes her face with his fingertips, “Ya never saw me, ya never saw her, I am dead, have been for da past three years. Ya will move on with ya life, start a new one hopefully because ya deserve it.”

“Yes,” Justine’s pensive eyed saddened Erik. 

“Now, I want ya to go on upstairs and get some rest. Rose and Felicie will be buried in da St. Louis Cemetery. Ya can go visit dem anytime ya want.” 

“I’d like that,” Justine says. 

“I know, baby,” Erik kisses her forehead. He brings his fingertip to one of his fangs, pricking it before bringing it down to the bite mark on her neck, rubbing his blood into the wound to heal it, “Everything will be just fine.” 

Erik stared at Justine one final time before she stood up, walking into the house and up the stairs. Erik’s temper sparked again when he noticed Mama Dalma smiling like the entire thing was a joke.

“If you would have killed her, I would have ripped ya fucking head off,” Erik says.

“With what strength more than mine? Yuh can be angry all yuh please but dis needed to be done. Now, yuh have no reason to come back here.” 

“Ya evil, ya have no remorse, I’m exactly like ya. Didn’t care to check on my family, I let my manman die, my babies die, Nothin’ will change dat.” Erik was defeated. 

“Like I told Yuh, yuh are a vampire now. Deh won’t EVER understand deh. Keep this up, and yuh will end up dead. If anotha vampire catches yuh acting weak deh will make an example out of yuh. It’s okay...I have a lot more to teach yuh. Now, let’s bury deh babies and leave for good. Deh is deh last time I’m telling yuh.” 

“Erik Stevens,” A single bloody tear fell from Erik’s eye. 

“When yuh bury deh babies, yuh burying Ricardo Dupoux. As yuh maker, I command yuh to never come back here, and never go back to deh cemetery. Do yuh hear mi, child?” 

Erik simply nods his head before walking into his old home to grab the coffins that held his deceased daughters. What this vampire life has in store for him Erik could only hope it would get better. 

[kamandzak]

Another excerpt

A hint of backstory so the second-to-last paragraph makes sense, and if you didn’t read the prologue I posted: Andrew’s now deceased boyfriend, Greg, died of AIDS.

Recommended listening: “Solomon” from 12 Years a Slave

TW: dissociation, suicidal thoughts

           It’s been happening ever since I arrived at Tessa’s; I just leave my body. I float up against the ceiling as if filled with helium, watching what is happening below. Tessa waking up and making breakfast before going to her gaming room; her video editor Sam chatting with her about her upload schedule, Beth coming and going, and myself sitting in the same spot on the same couch day in and day out.

           I don’t know why it’s happening, other than the fact that I so desperately don’t want to exist but am too much of a damn coward to kill myself. In the end I’m just removing myself from my surroundings painlessly, right? Isn’t that what dissociation is? Just exit the current plane. Live somewhere else. That’s the key word: Live. I’m still alive. Technically. My heart still beats and my stomach still digests and I still blink and breathe. The human being my brain is in charge of is still moving. My brain operates on autopilot, does the dumb things it’s got to do to keep everything in stasis. I “live”, for lack of a better word.

           When I do have the courage to look up what I’m feeling on the internet, nothing make sense. Nothing can be tailored to fit my situation. I can relate to none of it. These people with their inspiring stories and memoirs written in loving memorium and the benches dedicated to loved ones… their experiences seem to mock what keeps me awake at night. As hard as I try to imagine these brave widows and widowers and left-behinds feeling the way I do, in the end their stories are that of getting over the loss.

           I don’t want to get over it. When I get over it, I’ll lose Greg. I’ve already lost him once.

           The grocery lists of things I could be doing to help myself mock me as much as the people who write the books on how to recover from the un-recoverable. Write them a letter, people write in silly, curly-cue fonts before giving me a whole page to write the letter, as if I’m going to sit down and put pen to paper and then tell Greg about something I saw that reminded him of our first date. List all the good times, it asks, with bullet points for me to fill out only five moments, as if every moment we had together wasn’t the best of my life. Find someone to talk to, they whimsically say, stating that keeping it all inside is dangerous, as if I don’t already know that it’s ripping me apart from inside.

           They don’t tell me how to start a letter to Greg where all I do is say how much I miss him. They don’t tell me how to find someone to talk to when I don’t want to talk about anything. They give me five fucking spots to talk about good times as if our four-year relationship can be reduced down to that many moments and no more.

           They say all of this is doable. They say that when they lost their husband or wife or boyfriend or girlfriend or best friend of grandparent or dog or whatever that these are the steps they took to recovering and moving on.

           But they aren’t me. They aren’t me and they aren’t Greg and they aren’t the set of circumstances under which we lived. Even if half of the equation is there, the other isn’t. Maybe their loved one was sick. Were they sick with the same ailment? Did they purposefully make themselves ill for the sake of their significant other or family member or friend? Did they love the other person so much they shortened their own life?

           The door opens. Tessa rushes to my side. Hands on the side of my face.

           Cold.

           “Andrew.”

I crack at her voice, her icy hands wrapping around my head and pushing me down against her. Wrapping my arms under hers, I cling to her small shoulders, weeping into her jacket sleeves. Eyes screwed shut, I gasp for air, seeing Greg in the darkness as he mirrors the same breathy sounds. Mine are of sadness; his, death. Tessa pulls my non-resisting body down onto the floor with her and we sit together, tangled in a heap of coats and scarves and unwashed hair. Much like when we were young – when we didn’t understand what the world was about and why we were with the people we were with – and Tessa would protect me, we sit close, her love drowning out the pulsing drone of fear and hatred and sadness and anger rushing through my mind as it struggled to comprehend the incomprehensible.

[songficsbyrissi]

Blindfold (T’Challa x Black Reader)

Warning: Swearing (all of my one shots are going to have swears tbh), overall fluff

“Yeah, I know If I see you, I'll be out of control Yeah, I might as well have both my eyes closed Baby, I might need a fucking blindfold Blindfold, yeah” - Pryde

A/N: So what if Zuri had given T’Challa a herb which was supposed to give him a new ability but instead makes him act crazy and shit seeing the person he truly loved? If that’s not enough of a problem, what if the person who he truly love is not the person who’s currently with? Let’s see how this plays out. *mischevious laugh* oh and btw this includes Redeemed Erik but he didn’t kill Zuri at the challenge. ************* “Zuri, you have requested my presence?” T’Challa marched into the shaman’s residence with two of the Dora Milage. Obviously the king didn’t need them to visit his own trusted mentor but they must be with their king at all times.

Zuri turned around with a wide smile on his face. “Ahh my king.” He gave him the Wakanda salute and the young king returned it. “I have found an special herb that I believe will help you even more in combat.” T’Challa raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying that my combat needs improvement?” Zuri grew wide eyed in response. “No! Kumkani, akakho oko!” T’Challa chuckled at how flustered the old man became. As he grew older, Zuri became easier to mess with. He placed his hand gently on the older man’s back. “Your king is messing with you. Anyway, what is the herb supposed to do?” Zuri regained his calm composure that he had prior to T’Challa’s teasing. “Ahh yes. I believe this diamond shaped herb will enhance your intelligence. Increase your brain power to the point where you will blessed with telekinesis.” T’Challa eyed the herb with skepticism. The heart shaped herb that he had in his system was already doing a fine job. He’s already blessed in combat situations. Shall he ask for more?” “Zuri, I am not too sure about this. How are you so sure this is what the herb will do? I am already more than capable with the abilities I have now.” “You are correct, but it would not hurt to have more, my king.” Zuri turned his back flipping through his ancient scriptures. “Besides, it would impress Y/N to see a new ability of yours.” T’Challa laughed boisterously throughout the residence holding his stomach. “Zuri, please. I’ve told you over and over again. Y/N is just my friend. I do not have feelings for her. I am to marry Ororo.” “Kumkani, all I said is that it would impress her. I do not recall saying anything about having feelings.” The old shaman hid his smirk. “Whether you have feelings for her or not does not change the fact this new ability will be very useful in combat.” T’Challa hummed suddenly as if he was deep in thought about the herb but was really in deep thought about you. You were an American born to Wakandan immigrants and when your parents passed, you decided to go to your parents’ homeland to meet your extended family. When you did, you met T’Challa. After getting to know each other and T’Challa finds out you had dreams of being in the fashion world, he offered you a job as head stylist to dress him, his mother, and his sister Shuri but mainly him. Although he won’t publicly admit it, his main reason for his offer was to keep you as close to him as he could. You were a beautiful, intelligent and talented woman who walked into his life and he swears Bast told him not to let you go. He shook his head trying to shake off the thoughts. He was engaged to someone else. You showed no sign of interest and clearly didn’t want to go past the friends stage so he gave Ororo a chance and eventually got engaged since there was pressure on him to find a queen at the moment. It just wasn’t the Queen his heart wanted though, but he’ll remain in denial. “Fine, Zuri. I will try this herb. If I do not like it, I may remove it, yes?” T’Challa finally spoke with the liquified herb that was in a mug in his hands. Zuri nodded vigorously with a smile. “Yes, my king. I will have an antidote prepared to strip the powers of the herb away.” “Very well then.” T’Challa tilted the cup to consume every drop of the liquid and cleared his throat when he was finished. “I will see you later, Zuri.” He performed the salute and Zuri returned it. T’Challa was on his way out and Zuri spoke with a crooked smile. “I look forward to seeing the results, my king.” ************ “So what is the deal with you and my brother?” Shuri asked out of nowhere as you were taking down notes about his panther suit. You tried so hard to resist the urge to groan. You felt the vibranium on the panther suit Shuri was designing and sighed. “We’re just friends, Shuri. Nothing more.” Shuri snorted rolling her eyes. “Oh puh-lease, Y/N. I know you love my brother. What happened?” Ororo Munroe happened. A very attractive and powerful mutant who caught most of Wakandan men and women’s eyes when she first arrived. She immediately took interest in the young king. Ororo moved quickly and made it obvious she wanted him. You grew jealous because you saw him first but due to your status, you never made a move out of fear of rejection. Everyone liked her and you couldn’t lie, it was hard to dislike her aside from the fact she took your man. You had a growing hope that T’Challa would break up with her but the opposite happened. They got engaged so you had to accept the fact that you had lost him. But you still loved him. You turned to see her curious eyes and sighed. “You do realize that your brother is engaged, right?” “Yeah but Ororo is great and all but she isn’t the one for him.” She came over and stood next to you crossing his arms. “I wish he would see that before going through with this. The title of queen does not belong to her.” Before you could question Shuri, Erik burst through the vibranium lab doors. “Yo, princess! Stop bothering Y/N with your technological bullshit! We got a bit of a fashion emergency!” Shuri scrunched up her face in annoyance. “Hello to you too...how do you say it again?” She placed her finger to her chin in deep thought and got it. “Coochie! Hello, Coochie!” You stifled a laugh with the back of your hand when Erik sucked his teeth loudly. It was a mistake on his part because when he had his “intimate” conversations with his lover, he used the term and when Shuri overheard and asked, he lied saying “Coochie” was a slang word for cousin to protect her innocence. It clearly backfired because she’s been calling him Coochie for the longest. “For the last fucking time, just call me cousin.” Erik grabbed your wrist tugging it. “Come on. T’Dickhead ripped his damn pants and the council meeting is in 30 minutes.” You snickered following Erik and Shuri followed right beside you. How did the oh so graceful king rip his pants? It was too funny but you had to put a mask of seriousness so you could look professional. The three of you made it to his chambers and walked inside to find T’Challa staring at his floor length mirror. “Hey Challa. I heard you gave me some more work to do.” You joked crossing your arms with a shake of your head. “Ahh Y/N-“ he turned around and once his eyes landed on you, you saw his pupils dilate and he stalked slowly towards you like a predator creeping up on its prey. His eyes sparkled in faint pink sparks and He lets out a deep growl while examine you from head to toe. You weren’t wearing anything different today. Your hair was styled the same and you had the same light amount of makeup on your face so why was he acting so weird? “Of course, uthando. I need you to work...on....me.” He suddenly placed his hands on your waist and you hesitantly looked back at Shuri and Erik who was as shocked and confused as you are. “T’Challa....are you feeling ok?” You lifted your hand to his forehead and he pressed you closer to his body. “Yes, my love! Touch me! I am not ok because you are not keeping my bed warm every night!” He exclaimed rubbing himself against your leg and this time, you backed away looking him up and down. You glared at Erik and back at him. “Is this a practical joke? Because it’s not funny!” You were fuming. Erik was fully aware of your feelings for T’Challa and loved fucking with people around the castle. You could usually take his pranks but you didn’t find this one entertaining at all. It hurt even more that T’Challa would fuck with you like this. Erik opened his mouth stumbling over his words. “Y/N, I promise you. This ain’t me. I don’t know what came over this nigga but I’m being deadass when I say I got nothing to do with it. I swear on my pops.” Erik would never swear on his deceased father unless he was being genuine so T’Challa was the only culprit. You turned your glare to him. “T’Challa, quit it.” He placed his hands around your face and stared in your eyes. “I don’t want to quit anything but this relationship I have with Ororo. I want you all the time, Y/N.” “Yo, T’Stupid, the council meeting is in 20 minutes. Quit this dumbass prank already and let Y/N do her damn job.” Erik groaned as you went behind T’Challa to his massive wardrobe. T’Challa’s eyes returned to normal glaring at Erik. “What is this “prank” you speak of? And I am not preventing her from doing her task.” “Brother...you were just flirting heavily with her.” Shuri spoke slowly to him. “Absurd! I’ve told you over and over again we are just friends!” T’Challa practically shouted out of exasperation. You returned with a new pair of pants and once you were back in T’Challa’s view, his eyes glossed over once more. “My alluring princess has returned to me. I need to make you my queen, beautiful. That job would suit you much better. I’d do anything for you, sithandwa sam.” T’Challa states seductively caressing your hand that was holding the pants. You ignored your racing heart and took a step back. All he was saying was believable and the thing is T’Challa is not a good actor at all. He went to change his pants and you stood next to the others. “What the fuck is going on with him?” You hissed under your teeth. “As much I love all this affection, it’s bullshit. And if it’s not a prank, something else is happening.” “From what I observed, he becomes absolutely smitten with you when you’re in his sight but back to normal when you’re out of his sight.” Shuri indicated staring after him. Erik nodded in agreement. “It’s like he’s under some loveboy spell. He’s normal T’Motherfucker now but when he sees you, he becomes T’Romeo. Gets the usual dumb, lovesick puppy look in his eyes when he sees you except he’s actually spitting game.........I respect it.” “Well I don’t!” You snapped and you turned your head in direction he disappeared to. “T’Challa, I swear to God or Bast or whatever deity is listening, I will quit right now. Give up this prank now.” You felt yourself choke up. It hurt that he was saying all the right things, all the things you’ve been dying to hear but it wasn’t real. It was plain cruel. T’Challa responded still hidden away. “Y/N, what are you talking about? I hardly think ripping my pants is a “prank” or whatever you call it.” You were taken aback by his frustrated tone. He came back into view and you swear you saw his eyes twinkle. “Look at my future queen.” He bit his lip walking slowly your way. “Please leave us so I can adore my queen in the privacy of our bedroom.” Our bedroom?! You grabbed both Erik and Shuri’s wrists stepping outside of the king’s chambers. “Ok. I believe it. He’s clearly under a spell or something. He doesn’t have feelings for me. We gotta figure out how to fix this before this causes a mess.” You huffed resting your hands on your hips. “I don’t know.....T’Romeo is kinda entertaining to watch.” Erik rubbed his chin chuckling as Shuri snickered in her hands. You scowled deeply crossing your arms. Erik cleared his throat seeing your irritation growing. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Look at it this way. You take him and I get to take Ororo. It’s a win-win. It’s about time y’all get together.” You ignored him and turned your attention to Shuri. “Shuri, will you be able to run some tests or something?” Shirt shook her head with a frown appearing on her face. “No, Y/N. Mother has been complaining that I spend too much time in the lab for a teenager so I get locked out the lab for 3 hours a day.” She sighed out of annoyance. “It’s gonna be locked by the time we get there.” The three of you cursed bouncing around thoughts in your heads. A light bulb went off and you all gasped. “Zuri!” You all yelled in unison. “But what about the meeting?” Shuri whispered making sure no one was listening. “He’s not going to cancel it!” Erik wrapped his arm around you and smirked down at you. “Oh yes he is. You heard his ass. He’d do anything for Y/N. She’s our secret weapon now.” The door opened and T’Challa walked out patting himself down. “Yo, T! You gotta cancel this meeting!” T’Challa glared at Erik. “Are you mad? Why should I?” Erik pushed you into T’Challa’s view. “Because Y/N needs you to.” His cheekbones became visible as he let a goofy smile grace his face. “Of course. Anything for you, beloved.” “T’Challa! The council is looking for you!” Ororo was seen dressed up and rushing up you guys. “Don’t tell me you forgot, sweetheart!” “Oh Bast! Y/N, take T’Challa to Zuri and make sure his eyes stay on you. I mean they always do but it will be easier to get him there when he’s thinking about....satiating himself with you.” Shuri commanded and you obeyed thanking God your blush isn’t gonna show due to your melanin. You made eye contact with T’Challa. “Baby, do me a favor and follow me keeping your eyes on me.” You felt yourself warm inside calling T’Challa a cute pet name, something you’ve been dying to do. You grabbed both of his hands leading him in the opposite direction. “I will never take my eyes of you, my love.” He gushed and you felt like taking all of him right now but it wasn’t real. All that he was saying is fake. Ororo caught up with Erik and Shuri with a puzzled look on her face. “Hey, where is Y/N taking T’Challa? He’s late for this meeting already.” “Oh they’re about to f-“ Erik closed his mouth when Shuri discreetly pinched his arm smiling tightly. “About to figure out other clothing options. All the outfits she has prepared have been ruined. But he has told us to cancel it.” Shuri stated nervously. Ororo eyed the both of them not convinced. She began to chase after you and T’Challa and the two cousins began to follow the confused woman hastily. “T’Challa, Y/N, what is going on?” Ororo questioned with a booming voice stopping the both of you in your steps. “Shit! T’Challa, turn around and look at Ororo.” You commanded attempting to turn him around but he refused. “No. I never wanna take my eyes off of you.” T’Challa replied a voice smooth like velvet. “Do not reject me, Y/N. I’m tired of you rejecting me.” You were stunned at his last sentence. Was T’Challa always showing you he had feelings but you rejected him? You shook it off. It has to be the spell or whatever making him say this. Ororo finally caught up and stood next to you in front of T’Challa. His eyes were still on you and moving out of his sight was not an option. You gulped not sure what was going to happen next. “T’Challa, what’s going on, my love?” Ororo tried to make eye contact with him but he refused still keeping his eyes on you. You looked up to see Erik take his black handkerchief and wrap it around T’Challa’s eyes. “Why can’t I see anything? What is going on?” T’Challa demanded touching the scarf when Shuri slapped his hands away. “The outfits are a surprise, brother. You refuse to keep your eyes closed so we must blindfold you.” Shuri glanced at you and Erik and you both nodded in confirmation. T’Challa removed the blindfold and luckily you stood behind him. Ororo eyed the four of you and sighed with a smile. “I guess I should get used to the weirdness. I’m marrying into it. I’ll let them know you cancelled, my love.” She pecked T’Challa’s lips and walked away with T’Challa looking after her. Damn she makes it hard to hate her. You didn’t see a Twinkle in his eyes seeing her like it did when he saw you. Why was this spell specifically set on you when she was his fiancée? Shuri pulled T’Challa out of the palace and Erik walked next to you as you fumbled with your thoughts. “I know what you’re thinking and asking in your head.....I’m pretty sure you know the answer too. You’re just too stubborn to believe it.” You scoffed walking ahead of him. “Shut up, N’Jadaka.” ************** “Ahh what can I do for you, my king, my princess, Lady Y/N....” Zuri turned to Erik and displayed a sneer on his face. “N’Jadaka.” “Zuri.” Erik replies mocking his accent. “Man, you gotta let that ritual battle shit go. It’s not that serious.” The old man was taken aback. “Not that serious? You tried to kill me!” “Nigga, I’m redeemed!” “Erik, shut up!” You hissed and turned to Zuri exhaling. “Look Zuri, the king is under some spell where he thinks he’s in love with me. The weird thing is he’s only out of control when his eyes are on me.” T’Challa was stunned. “Really? I’m sorry if I’ve been inappropriate.” He turned to look at you and the enamored look and tone came again. “I’ll be inappropriate as much as you like, my love.” Shuri groaned out of disgust. She got up and tying the blindfold around his eyes once again. “I did it again, didn’t I?” T’Challa asked and you all nodded as if he could see. Zuri walked back to his ancient book filled with rituals, herbs, etc. and laughed nervously at one page. He turned back to see your confused faces with a guilty and apologetic look on his face and cleared his throat. “I am so sorry. I gave the king a herb that I believed would give him a new combat ability but I gave the wrong herb. The herb the king has in his system plays with emotions of its consumer. My apologies, my king. It was an honest mistake.” You tried to hide your disappointment. “So I was right. He’s under some bitch ass love spell. Xolela ulwimi lwam, Zuri.” Zuri waved off your apology. “That’s alright but you are not completely correct.” Zuri handed you the textbook that was opened to the informational page on the herb. Erik and Shuri peeked over your shoulder as T’Challa took a seat frustrated that he couldn’t see. “Lowo odla le mifuno uya kunyanzeliswa ukuba azibonakalise ngokwakhe uthando lwakhe lobomi. Ulawulo lwempembelelo luya kulahlekelwa kwaye zonke iingcamango zabo ziya kuhanjiswa xa iintanda zabo zihlala kwizinto zabo.” You read out loud and your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. You weren’t completely fluent in Xhosa so you were pretty sure you read it wrong. You looked up to see Erik, Shuri, and Zuri smiling. “What does it s-“ “Girl, you know damn well what it says!” Erik cackled in his fist jumping up and down and looked in T’Challa’s direction. “That’s my nigga right there!” T’Challa remained quiet gulping and Shuri said nothing as well. “I will cease the torture, Y/N. It reads that the one who consumes the herb will be forced to show themselves to the love of their life. Impulse control will be lost and all of one’s thoughts will be revealed when their eyes land on their true love.” You were still puzzled. “So that means....” “The herb gave him the balls he didn’t have to tell you how he feels!” Erik shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Damn, it really be the pretty ones that are slow as fuck.” You glared at Erik and Shuri nodded her head in agreement. “I wouldn’t be so crude but coochie is correct.” “For the last fucking time.... you know what? Fuck it. I am what I eat.” Erik shrugged leaning against the wall. You nervously sat in front of T’Challa who remained seated and quiet. “Y/N....” “You knew it was me?” “I recognize your scent.” He stated sheepishly through his blindfold. “I want to able to look at you when I say this but not while I’m under the effects of this herb.” “I have the remedy prepared, my king.” Zuri put a small cup to his lips and T’Challa took a couple gulps. After a moment, his skin emitted a pink light and then the light faded away. When he returned to his original color, Zuri nodded at you. “The power of the herb have been stripped away.” You nodded back and removed the blindfold from his eyes. His eyes landed on you and didn’t have the twinkling it had before but he carried the infatuated look in his eyes. This was the look they all were talking about that you never noticed. T’Challa took your hands in his and breathed staring in your eyes. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you for longer than I can remember. My attempts to get over you have been futile. I know I am engaged to Ororo but all I think about is you. I never told you this because I feared you didn’t feel the same.” “You feared wrong, wam kumkani. I feel the same way. I love you too.” You leaned in and he took your face in his hands placing a soft kiss on your lips. When you two pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and sighed. “Looks like I have an engagement to break off.” “I feel bad but-“ “It has to be done. Let’s go, entle.” T’Challa took your hand and led you out of Zuri’s residence. That left Erik and Shuri eyeing Zuri skeptically. “Is it just me, princess or is it oddly convenient that Zuri had already prepared the remedy? Prior to us coming here.” Shuri nodded in agreement folding her arms. “It is. Also, the herb he “accidentally” gave T’Challa looks nothing like the one he “meant” to give him.” She held up said herb which was a different color and shape than the one given to the king. “Oh! Nonsense! I’m just getting older. As you get older, you forget things and make mistakes. I am an innocent old man.” Zuri turned away hiding his devious smile. Shuri bursted out laughing and held her stomach. Erik shook his head chuckling and spoke. “Zuri, you are a sneaky motherfucker.”

Translations:

1.  akakho oko - never that!

2.  uthando - love

3.  Xolela ulwimi lwam - Forgive my tongue/excuse my language

Tags: @brianabreeze @dramaqueenamby @marvelpotterlove @purple-apricots @blackpinup22 @cancerianprincess @brattywriters-anonymous @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @ljstraightnochaser

I think I got everyone but I apologize if I forgot to tag anyone!

[outworldxwasomi]

Ritual Of Blood: Idi Mercy Finale

//Here’s the final part to the story, Make sure to read Pt 1 & 2 if you haven't done already. And special shout-out to @fiery-assassin​ for beta-reading it for me, Love you girlie. And Thanks to those who took the time to read it, much love to you all.

All it takes is one swipe across the throat, severe an artery causing blood to spray out like a geyser. As the victor stands tall, covered in the blood of his opponent who now lay on the ground beneath him, the last of his life fading out as he goes limp. Chuma walks over, kneels down to check for any signs of life as the screams of an outraged father could be heard over the cheers of the crowd. 

“Nuka is the Victor.” Chuma announced, standing up to raise the winner’s arm. While the victor gets to hug his father, the other father had to pick up his now deceased son corpse and carry him off to the funeral fire. It’s a sad and vicious cycle that will never end as long as the Tarkatans continue following the old ways. Seeing those who were friends or enemies, step into the middle of the ring and fight to the death was a harsh reality. 

Idi took it in stride, watching each fight with with a blank stare. Silently keeping track of went in and who was left in line. The last girl fight had already passed, Jabari sister Mudiwa won by ripping her opponent’s head off like the savage everyone expected her to be, just like her brother. The only ones left in line was Idi and three other boys, two more fights left and Idi would be stepping in that ring anytime now. 

Baraka got up from his throne and walked toward the center of the ring, taking a look at the last four kombatants in line. After a minute of silence, Baraka makes a choice. “There's four of you left, all of you are at the top of your class. Personally I trained all of you so there is no doubt all of you are fit to be a true Tarkatan. Only one of you can prove that tonight.”

Those last words drew confused ‘what?’ from the boys and their guardians. All of them trying to understand what Baraka was saying. “It’s not often we a have free for all, the last one happened 357 years ago, won by Chuma himself. Tonight the four of you will step into this ring and fight, the winner will be the last one standing or breathing. May the True Tarkatan win.” Baraka went back to his throne, ignoring the protests of some tarks who were kin to the last four. 

“Is he serious?” Idi couldn’t believe it, not only did he have to fight now. But he had to face three instead of the usual one on one fight. He looks over at the other boys, all of them wide eyed and lost for words. 

“Come on Idi.” Benzi gave Idi a light shove, leading him towards the ring. The rest following suit, guardian’s walking their young tark kin to the center of the ring knowing it would be the last time they will see them alive. Once the boys stood in the center of the ring, they turned to their guardians. Two boys had their father and one had their aunt, having lost both parents in battle. 

“You’re shaking Benzi.” Idi was quick to notice Benzi was shaking slightly, especially his hands that were currently gripping his shoulders. Idi examined his brother face, seeing a stray tear roll down his cheek and teeth. “You scared?”

“Damn right I'm scared, if I wasn’t then I'm not really living am I.” Benzi chuckled nervously. He glanced at the others then looks down at his brother, memories of when he first held him to his first training session flashed in his mind. He knew this day would come and he was confident that Idi would come out the winner but this was not part of the dream. To think Baraka would choose a free-for-all after centuries of one-on-ones. He wasn’t doubting his brother abilities but it didn’t stop the fear he had in his heart. 

“Benzi, I’m going to be fine.” Idi reached up to pat Benzi right arm, comforting him even though he was the one about to put his life on the line.  “Just don’t do anything crazy if anything happens to me, promise?”

“Promise you stay alive?” 

“Of course.” Idi turns around to face the others. Benzi pats the top of his little brother head and walked off with the other guardians to stand behind the Kongozi seat. Idi took a step back, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. The other boys stood back, giving each other looks, sizing and figuring out their plan of attack. The tallest of the three was staring right at Idi than pointed in his direction, the other two glanced at him then at Idi, a look of recognition in their eyes. Idi felt his heart drop to his stomach as he realized what the others were planning to do, smart but cowardice. 

“Scared Paavo?” Idi called out. 

“Hell no.” Paavo snapped back despite his voice cracking. 

“Kade, Hahn?” Idi motions to the other two boys who quickly shake their heads no. “I mean it’s okay to be scared, I be scared of me too.” He says with a nervous laugh. Even Chuma had to snicker at that comment. 

“Alright boys, prepare yourselves.” Chuma looks to Baraka who gives the signal with his right hand while his other hand held goblet filled with wine. Chuma raised his left arm and extended his arm-blade. He quickly jumps back as Paavo rushed forward, blades extended as he charged at Idi. 

Idi weaved to the right as Paavo swung a wide left, missing him completely. He growls and makes a downward strike, barely missing Idi right leg, his blade impaling the sand. Before he could pull back he was hit with a sharp kick to the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. Paavo stumbles back, gasping for breath, hands beating his chest as he tried to get his breathing back to normal. His gasps turned into a gurgled choke as Idi lunged at him, shoving his arm-blade right through his chest, piercing him right through the heart. 

“Yes.” Benzi cheered then quickly goes quiet as the Tark beside him glared at him. “You have my condolences.”

Idi yanked his arm-blade out of Paavo chest and steps back, he wipes the blood from his blade and smears it across his chest. He looks up to see Kade and Hahn staring at him wide eyed. The two exchanged looks, making gestures at Idi. Hahn roared at Kade and tackled him, the two started to wrestle on the dirt ground, snapping teeth and clawing like wild animals. Idi was so fixated on watching the other two boys wrestle that he was unaware of Paavo, who was still alive despite a gaping hole in his chest. 

“Ahh,” Idi felt a sharp pain in his left thigh, looking down to see Paavo biting on his calf. Idi fell backwards, hitting the ground butt first. He lifts his free leg and kicks Paavo right in the forehead, a loud crunch sound could be heard as Idi kicked right through Paavo skull. Two more hard kicks cracks Paavo head wide open, pieces of his brain spilling onto Idi foot and calf. Idi reached down to pull Paavo maw from his calf, hissing as some of his teeth were stuck deep in his flesh. Quickly getting back to his feet, Idi nudged Paavo side with his good leg, making sure the tark was dead, definitely dead. 

Dropping down to one knee, Idi checked the damage to his calf. Bloody teeth marks with a few broken teeth left behind. Knowing that the teeth would cause in infection, Idi started to dig the teeth out of his leg. The sound of his brother yelling his name pulled him back to the world around him. Idi raised his head just in time to see Kade flying at him. Idi rolled out of the way to dodge, watching Kade hit the ground and roll a few times. Idi looks back to Hahn who threw something, hitting Idi right in the nose. Idi fell back, grabbing his nose which was no doubt broken. Whatever Hahn threw at him was hard, a rock or something close to it. Idi got his feet in a hurry and paused when he spotted Kade head on the ground, Hahn decapitated Kade and threw his head at him. 

Oh shit 

Idi turned to Hahn, posturing himself into an offensive stance. He could see the fear in Hahn’s eyes and if it’s one thing Idi has learned, nothing more dangerous than someone who was scared to die. They do anything to say alive and right now that’s exactly what was taking place. Hahn rushed forward, closing the distance between them in seconds. With arm-blades, Hahn came at Idi with a flurry of swipes, each one thrown with precision. Idi weaved most of the swipes but had to block the heavy strike with his own blades, causing sparks to fly. Since Hahn was the bigger fighter, all his blows were strong, each one sending Idi stumbling with each block. 

Hahn snapped and jumped up, hitting Idi with a knee to the teeth. Idi flew back and catches himself before he hits the ground, doing a one hand backflip to get back to his feet. Idi comes at Hahn with an overhand swipe with his right arm-blade. His single blade collides with Hahn crossed block, breaking on impact. Idi makes a shocked yelp as he looks at his arm-blade which was now broken in half. Seeing the broken end on the ground beside him then back to Hahn who was preparing to strike, lunging at him with arms wide and blades ready to strike. Idi waited til Hahn got close, spinning to the right he lets his left arm swing freely with his spin. Idi hissed as he felt a stab in his shoulder, only for a brief second. Hahn lands on his feet and took two steps forward, he reached up to his neck which was now severed right to the adam's apple. His head fell over to the side then his entire body collapsed to the ground. Idi eyed Hahn, waiting for him to make anymore moves only to see him lay lifeless in his own pool of blood. 

Chuma comes over and grabs Idi right arm, raising it up.”Idi is the Victor.” He declared. The crowd cheered and roared in excitement, surprised by the outcome. Baraka got up from his chair and walks into the ring to stand before Idi. He takes one look at the three dead boys on the ground then back to Idi. 

“You are one of my best students. You were born runt like myself.. And today you proved you are a true tarkatan warrior, possibly better than me.” Baraka reached into his pants pocket and takes out a bone necklace with a yellow jewel at the center. Idi bowed his head, letting Baraka put the necklace around his neck. “Hongara Idi.” Baraka steps back and crossed his arms over his chest in a tarkatan salute, bowing. Idi returned the bow with his own salute. 

Benzi comes over once Baraka walks away. More like ran over and picked Idi up by the mid section and hugged him. Idi hissed in pain but said nothing protest. “I'm so proud of you Idi.” Benzi says as he lets Idi go. 

“Told you I promise to stay alive.” Idi laughed then looks down at the necklace hanging from his neck. Benzi noticed it, leaning in to take a closer look at it. “Baraka gave it to me.”

“Yeah, that belonged to your Great Grandfather, Idi the Feral.”

“Idi the Feral, wait im related to the first feral Tarkatan?”

“Yeah, he may have been feral but he was one of the legendary warrior tarkatans to ever live. And now you wear his necklace, that’s a high honor.” Benzi points at the Jewel. “I thought it was lost but here it is.” 

“That’s nice.” Idi glanced back to the guardians carrying their deceased kin to the fire. Paavo father stops and looks back at Idi with scowl. “Maybe I should stay hidden til things cool down.”

“Don’t worry about him.” Benzi waved it off. The tarkatans know the rules and Paavo father would get a death sentence if he dare attack Idi at anytime. “Come one, let's get you cleaned up and ready for supper.”

“Benzi?” 

“Yeah?”

“Can you carry me?”

Benzi blinked a few times than shrugs. He picks Idi up like he was a toddler, patting his little brother back as he rested his head on his shoulder. “You know I can’t keep carrying you like this.”

“You will for as long as you're strong enough to carry me.” Idi grumbled with laugh. 

                                                     Mwisho

[xukunstellation]

Fantasy Fest Series: Demon of Mine || Bu Fan [Demon!AU]

Credit to @buyuefan for the gif, which sparked inspiration for this fic!

Title: Demon of Mine Pairing: Reader x Bufan Genre: Witch!AU + Demon!AU + fluff  Word Count: 2,202 words Summary: Magic can be tricky, especially when you accidentally summon a demon into your home.

A/N: My first fic in the Fantasy Fest series! At the time of me writing up this fic, demon!au is currently in the lead in the poll. Who else better to play the role of a demon that Bufan himself? Also, a disclaimer: everything is pretty much more or less fictional. I made up a few things as far as summoning demons go and I also didn’t want anyone to get any ideas, lol. Everything is under the cut because this is the longest fic i’ve ever written I think, oof. Enjoy demon!Bufan! 

Warning: mild cursing, brief mention of blood

ya’ll asked for demon!au

so i gotchu boo

you come from a family of witches 

magic has ran through your family blood line for generations, dating back to the early 1400s

contrary to popular belief, your family did not practice black magic or served the Devil

instead your family used magical skills in order to heal others, even opening an apothecary as a family business

all throughout your life, you loved learning about the functions of different types of herbs and ingredients and using that knowledge to create all types of potions and concoctions 

you also had an affinity for spell-casting and charms

every so often, your parents would go on business trips and travel across realms, bringing back new knowledge of spells and potions that you had never heard of 

sometimes they were gone for months or, rarely, a year

it did feel strange being on your own for long periods of time, but you grew accustomed to it

it also meant you were left in charge of running the apothecary, which you were all too eager for

as you flipped to a page in one of your many ancient potion-books to find the cure for nightshade rash for one of your clients, you scanned the ingredient list and saw that one of the ingredients was virtually illegible due to the fact that the ink was rubbed away over time 

“damn. how am I supposed to make this potion now?” you sighed. “guess i’ll have to ask grandma.”

after closing up the shop so that no customers wandered in, you headed to the back room. shelves lined the walls and were filled with all sorts of magical ingredients, all neatly organized according to their use. the soft sound of the fire crackling under the fireplace and the bubbling of the cauldron hanging above it filled the room. books and papers written in latin littered the tables and floor messily, the aftermath of your charms studying session from earlier

with a flick of your wrist, the books and papers levitated and swirled in the air for a moment before tidying themselves into organized stacks. another flick of your wrist, everything including the furniture moved on their own and cleared the center of the floor

“hm... what was the spell that mom used?” you said to yourself.

you had never summoned your deceased grandmother before, let alone any spirit for that matter. usually it was your mother who did the spirit contacting

looking through a spell book, you stopped at one particular spell and figured this was what you were looking for 

how to summon a loved one

according to the spell, all you had to do was draw a magic circle, provide a drop of blood and say a simple incantation. the circle will automatically summon the one you love, which you figured was your grandmother in this case

sounds easy enough

oh boy were you in for a surprise

you carefully used a piece of white chalk to carefully replicate the image  of a large summoning circle, carefully sketching intricate patterns as you go. facing the fireplace, you slowly inhaled and exhaled, a stream of wind leaving your mouth and extinguishing the flames, turning the room almost pitch black. with that said, you lit a few candles around the circle. gently running your index finger over the other, a small incision appeared. tilting your finger, you let a drop of blood fall into the circle. it was time to start the ritual.

closing your eyes, you channeled all of your energy to your core and began reciting the spell incantation. feeling the magic run through your veins, you felt the air pick up and stir around you, creating a vortex at the center of the circle. shadows danced along the walls to the sound of your chanting that grew in volume with each repetition. the once tiny golden flames were now a roaring, brilliant amethyst. 

your words came to a halt as you finished reciting the spell. the room around you also fell into a complete silence. opening your eyes, you were prepared to greet the spirit of your grandmother

except it wasn’t a spirit

hell (no pun intended) it wasn’t even your grandmother

floating in a fog of purple smoke above the summoning circle was a massive male figure around 6′3′’. his hair was a blood crimson, mirroring his glowing eyes beneath his closed lids. aside from wearing slightly loose black pants and a long trench coat, he was completely shirtless 

(you were lowkey checking out his abs ooh la la)

but what caught you the most off guard was the lilac tint of his skin, the onyx curled horns above his head, deadly talons instead of fingernails, and the powerful presence of obsidian wings that were tattered and torn at the edges and looked at least twice your size

“oh shit i just summoned a demon”

at the sound of your voice, the demon’s eyes snapped open and glared at you with what you believe was murderous intent

fuck

you were going to die tonight 

you were a healer, not a fighter rip you

just as the demon made a move to step out of circle, the spell broke. the magic that kept him afloat disappeared in a flash

causing him to plant face first onto your wooden floor

“....pfffft-”

you knew you probably shouldn’t have found the idea of a potentially dangerous demon in your home funny, but you couldn’t stopped laughing at how someone so scary looking could be so clumsy

meanwhile the demon only winced in pain as he stood back up and rubbed his face before shooting you a look of disbelief

most people would faint, pee their pants, cry, or at least scream in fear at the sight of him

but here you are laughing at him

who tf were you?

“are you done?” he deadpanned after watching you laugh at him for three minutes straight

wiping away a stray tear, you barely managed to settle down and responded, “y-yeah i think i’m good. are you?”

“peachy”

you felt the need to laugh again... until you realized that the spell you used was meant to summon:

a loved one

and it summoned this random demon 

wtf was that supposed to mean

“wait, who the hell are you?” you interrogated

“my name is bufan. i’m a formidable demon of the Underworld!” his loud, deep ass voice boomed before leaning down his height to make eye contact with you

you felt your heart flutter a bit at how close he was

“that’s uh... nice...”

“just... nice....?”

“yeah....”

awkward silence

“so who are you and why did you summon me?” bufan questioned, raising a dark eyebrow at you

“oh! i’m (y/n). i kind of summoned you by accident,” you sheepishly admitted

“how do you accidentally summon a demon?”

“how do you accidentally trip and fall while getting summoned?”

“....”

damn you got him there

“anyway,” you coughed, “all i wanted to do was summon the spirit of my dead grandmother, not a demon. i’m not even sure why the spell summoned you in the first place. not to be rude or anything but can you go back to where you came from? I'm really busy and need to talk to my grandmother so i can start this cure already”

"i can't unless you give me your first born child"

“....say what now”

you gaped at his serious poker face before slowly watching it contort into a shit-eating grin. then he broke into a boisterous laughing fit that shook the whole room with its intensity

you pouted when you realized he was pulling your leg. “this is payback for earlier, isn’t it?”

he calmed himself down to a few chuckles, “i was just trying to break the ice. it’s not every day i get summoned to a cute little witch’s home”

you nearly forgot how much of a smooth talker demons were

blood rushed to your cheeks at his words

definitely not because he called you cute

(it definitely is)

“but i’m telling the truth when i say i can’t exactly go back. that’s not how this spell works. i’m already bounded to you by blood”

you wondered what he meant by ‘not how the spell works’

“the spell book doesn’t say anything about it either,” you sighed. “i guess that means you’re stuck with me for the time being- hey! be careful with that!”

you snatched a bottle of naga venom from bufan who already was snooping around at all of the magical ingredients and things around him

“you’re awfully calm. aren't you afraid i'll take your soul or something?" he says

"bold of you to assume I have a soul"

you were joking of course and he, being a demon, could sense that you indeed did have a soul and grinned at you

“just... try and behave yourself, ok?”

“i’ll be on my best behavior”

bufan was not on his best behavior

you should have known never to trust a demon smh

having bufan around was like taking care of three year old child

he’s constantly asking you questions every time you’re trying to make potions and just genuinely trying to annoy you

“(y/n), what’s that?”

“dragon’s breath”

“and that?”

“alicorn tears”

“this empty jar says teeth. who’s teeth?”

“it’s about to be yours in a second after i punch you in the jaw if you don’t stfu”

“are all you humans so snippy?”

“oh my god”

“more like oh my lucifer amirite”

you were a unicorn’s hair away from hexing him jfc

for someone so big, he was also extremely sneaky and sly

he’s always trying to play pranks on you and using his powers to his advantage

such as using his invisibility to randomly pop in front of you or poke your sides or face when you were doing something

or hiding your phone and other necessities all over the house and sending you on an entire scavenger hunt

despite his childish tendencies, bufan was also quite reliable 

for some reason, he grew to be protective of you although he knew you could protect yourself with your own powers

whenever you traveled home alone at night, he insisted on flying you home on his broad back

which you secretly loved bc flying with bufan was always fun since he would always make it feel like a roller coaster ride by flying in loops and various speeds

there were times where bufan even acted like a mother figure which was both intriguing and terrifying

“(y/n), did you eat yet?”

“no i don’t have any time to-”

*proceeds to make eight different types of meals for you*

in addition, he always had liver medicine on hand and you have no idea how or why???

whenever you were having a bad day, he never hesitated to listen to your problems even if they didn’t apply to him as a demon

over the next few months of bufan living with you, your once quiet and uneventful home was now constantly filled with laughter, annoyed yells, and bustle. you found yourself noticeably happier

but a part of you always wondered if your happiness was only one sided

“bufan,” you called out to him one day while fiddling with your wand

he made a grunting sound from the couch that was situated a few feet from you, indicating that he heard you and was listening

“do you regret being summoned by me?” you nervously asked

no answer

feeling your heart drop when he failed to respond, you assumed the worse and laughed quietly to hide the sadness in your heart

“it’s okay if you do. i wont hold it against you,” you nodded timidly

hearing his footsteps approach you, you faintly remember hearing your wand drop onto the floor before he pulled you close to him

you’ve never felt so tiny oml

“what makes you think i regret being here?” he questioned, clearly confused as to why you were suddenly bringing this up

you shrugged, “i don’t know... i mean, you were kind of forced to. do you miss being on your own?”

“do you?”

it took you a moment to quietly reply, “i’ve gotten used to feeling alone, so if you wanted to leave, i would let you”

bufan could hear the loneliness that lingered at the edge of your words. little did you know, he already knew how much you meant to him from the very first day he met you. there was no way it was an accident. he pulled you tighter to him before kissing the top of your head

“silly little witch. who says i’m going anywhere?”

you tilted your head up at him in surprise, “you’re saying that if you had the chance to leave, you wouldn’t take it?”

“you couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to”

and you swear that that was the moment you knew you had fallen for a demon

maybe performing that spell wasn’t a mistake after all

perhaps the universe knew that bufan was meant to be your loved one

because there was no better feeling than always coming home to a certain demon of yours

[lawchan89]

Not Supposed To Be Here

Finally I got around to writing a post-finale Starco piece. Hope you enjoy!

Rescue me

Show me who I am

‘Cause I can’t believe

This is how the story ends…

Her eyes flew open for what felt like the millionth time that night, and the trillionth time that month. Each time the pit of dread settled in her stomach sooner than before, the reason she hadn’t slept well and might never again. She just wanted to cry it out whenever the time arose. But more often than not, she just couldn’t. Her heart ached terribly, her insides were numb, and yet the sorrow just wouldn’t unleash when she wanted it to.

Star flung the covers aside and stumbled out of bed towards the door. She couldn’t stay there. Everything in that bedroom reminded her of her mother, and not just the framed photos on the desk or the digital ones in her phone. The dresses hanging in her wardrobe were handpicked by her, the cool breeze from the window wrapped around Star like her mother’s embrace, even the very air she breathed was the unmistakable aroma of Moon’s perfume.

The rumor was that the High Commission planned to declare her officially deceased, but Star and her father refused to believe it. Especially Star, who swung herself down staircase after staircase, twisting around several corridors, unsure of where exactly her frenzied feet were taking her and not really caring.

She was there. She was right there. If I hadn’t been so stupid, I could’ve gotten her out of the Magic Realm.

It played over and over in her head like a broken record, the needle skipping every time her feet slapped against the floor. Why didn’t I plan it well enough? Why didn’t I know I would outsmart myself? Why was I so stupid?!

With an agonized grunt, Star rammed her elbow against a heavy oak door and forced herself inside. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but her insides turned to ice the second the massive tapestries rose before her. The “Grandma Room”. Her very earliest memories were of this room, nestled against her mother’s breast as the queen glided along the wall, pointing to the pictures of the towering women and whispering words the baby princess could not understand. Now that same princess understood far too much, and at the same time felt like she still knew nothing at all.

She found the one she was looking for, hidden in shadow and covered in dust and cobwebs. Eclipsa, Queen of Darkness read her slab, and Star marched over to it. Had she completely lost all sense of reason, she would have torn the old drapery clean off the wall, respect and tradition be damned. She hadn’t lost it. But she was getting close.

“So you just took off?” Her voice was weak, trembling and strained, and yet it echoed so uncomfortably in the empty domed room. “You got what you wanted, so you just...left? You couldn’t stick around to help me? If it wasn’t for me and my mom, you’d be dead.”

Knowing full well she was not getting an answer, Star ranted on to the steely face with crimson spade emblems in the tapestry. “I get it, your family means a lot to you. You got your second chance. But...what about me?” It wasn’t a question Star asked often, and it sounded so foreign on her tongue. So forbidden, as if she was not allowed to think such things. “I did a lot for you, Eclipsa. I—I’ve done a lot for a lotta people. But this time, I need something.”

She swallowed hard, sinking to her knees in fatigue from running through the castle half asleep. The cold grey eyes staring down at her still held no response. “My mom is gone. She might be gone gone. I know I keep telling everyone she isn’t, but what the heck do I know? I’m just acting queen, no big deal, right?” Her bottom lip quivered, and she chomped down on it with her teeth stubbornly. “My magic’s gone. Not totally, but it’s really weak. I don’t even have enough power to go back to the Magic Realm to look for her. All my dreams are just me losing Mom over and over again, and I can’t take it anymore!”

Her fists slammed against the marble floor, pressing her forehead to the harsh cold surface as she crumpled further to the ground. When next she spoke, it was in a voice choked with tears. “I gave you my Wand ‘cause it should be yours. But right now...I’m the one who needs it most. I need my mom, Eclipsa. My family means everything to me, too.”

Curling her legs up to her chest, Star rolled onto her side and buried her face in her knees. Gentle hopeless sobs shuddered through her, echoing softly in the stillness as she resigned herself to the fact that maybe Queen Moon really was never coming back. And maybe she was now the rightful Queen of Mewni. Just the thought of it was enough to make her break down further, copious tears flowing into her light gold hair as she hugged herself tightly.

It wasn’t right, the fact that they were all looking to her to make these big decisions. She was just a kid. Star couldn’t decide the fate of Mewni. Heck, Star couldn’t even decide which boy she liked.

A slight shuffling of feet was the first thing that caught her attention the moment there was a break in her weeping. Sitting up suddenly, she shoved her hair out of her eyes, blinking in the moonlight glowing gently from the overhead skylight. She expected it might be her father, coming to spend some time with his wife’s tapestry, as that was currently all he had left of her. She didn’t expect the person it actually was. Although in retrospect, she should have. Somehow he always managed to turn up at times like this.

“What are you doing here?” Star asked him, struggling through her hitched breaths.

Marco blinked over at her, having settled himself on the floor next to her with his back against the wall. “I...kinda live here now, remember?”

“You know what I mean, Marco. Why are you in here?”

“‘Cause I heard you talking to yourself,” he admitted, his fingers fiddling idly with the zipper on his hoodie.

“I was talking to Eclipsa,” Star insisted.

“Eclipsa’s not here, Star.”

“Well, she’s somewhere,” the princess went on indignantly, swiping roughly at her cheeks as if she were embarrassed about shedding tears in front of Marco. Which was dumb; he had seen her like this before.

“Star,” Marco sighed patiently, “she isn’t here. No one knows where she is. But there’s people you can turn to who are here.”

“Go back to bed,” she ordered her intruder in a sullen tone.

“I’m not leaving you.” 

Sweet Mewni. Why did hearing that tender nasally voice make her believe, even for an instant, that everything was going to be alright? Whatever strange magic it weaved, it seemed to instantly dissolve her rigid front. She hated it, but also couldn’t deny that it felt better to just open herself up.

“I want my mom,” Star muttered through quivering lips, feeling like she was five years old again. “But I botched it up, and now she’s gone forever.”

“Don’t say that, we’ll find her,” he soothed, pushing himself off the wall to move closer to her. Star’s blue eyes shone like orbs, her eyelashes dewed with crystal tears, and her face red and swollen. Marco’s heart ached — he would move every one of the countless dimensions in the cosmos if it meant she would never suffer like this again.

“You can’t make this one better, Marco.” She pushed the heels of her hands against her eyes as she felt another fresh bout of tears come on. “I know you’re trying to help, but we lost this one.” She paused, sniffling loudly. “We lose a lot, don’t we?”

“We don’t always come out on top, that’s for sure,” Marco replied, taking one of her hands in his and hanging on firmly.

“You know...even though Mom was gone, I felt like I could still keep fighting as long as I had you.” Star ran her free hand through her hair and gripped at her scalp, her face crumbling as the tears poured once more. “But I lost you, too.”

“I’m here — I’m right here.” Wrapping his arms around her shuddering frame, Marco held her as closely and tightly as he could, sharing in her pain and grief the only way he knew how.

“Don’t do that again, Marco, just — just don’t leave me, okay?” Curling deeper into his embrace, Star latched onto him and dug her nails into the back of his shirt. Wailing punctured sobs ripped through her, each lifting another weight off her chest and unfurling another knot in her stomach.

“I won’t,” Marco whispered, beginning to rock her in place as he smoothed her hair down. “Just let it out,” he coaxed, hiding his own tears in her hair. “Let it all out, I’ve got you.” All he could do was hold her. She needed this catharsis desperately. She just needed to talk and scream and cry, and he just needed to listen.

“This is why.”

“What?” Star whimpered, raising her head to meet his glimmering brown eyes.

“You asked me why I was here,” Marco clarified. “I’m here to be that person you can always turn to. When things like this happen, I want you to know you never have to face it alone.” Hesitantly, he lifted his hand and brushed a lock of hair away from her damp eyes. “It’s okay. I’ll be the strong one this time if you don’t want to.”

For one brief insane moment, Star wanted to kiss him. But no — that was sleep-deprived, overly emotional Star thinking that, and she squashed her down quickly. Instead she merely fell back against his chest and grabbed onto him like he would float away if she let him go. He quite literally almost had.

“C’mon, let’s get you back to bed,” Marco said, helping her to her feet, which proved difficult when she hung onto his waist so fiercely. “We’ll talk about what we’re gonna do to find your mom in the morning.”

“How?” Star asked as he walked her back out into the corridor, the dense door booming closed behind them. “Marco, I’m totally useless. Most of my magic is gone after the fight with Meteora, and Eclipsa has the Wand now. I couldn’t be Queen of the Dumpster Garbage, let alone Mewni.” She shivered, her head resting on his shoulder as cold tears splattered the front of his hoodie. “I have no idea what’s gonna happen now. And Mom…”

She’s not supposed to be here. And neither are you.

What in the name of corn did that mean, Moon wasn’t supposed to be there? So where was she supposed to be? Not with her kingdom, nor with her husband and daughter apparently. Maybe not even in the world of the living altogether.

“You’re not useless,” Marco’s warm tone broke through her thoughts, pulling her a bit closer as they trekked slowly up the winding stairs. “You did what you had to do to save your people. You had to make a difficult decision, putting the needs of your kingdom before yourself. Isn’t that what a queen does?”

He looked down at her for any sort of response. But she just cried silently, hugging him like a living breathing stuffed animal while her eyes dripped large tears, puncturing the stillness when they hit the marble at their trudging feet. Marco bit his lip, realizing tonight wasn’t the night for a pep talk, but just a night to let her know he was there, and was always going to be no matter what.

Star was weak, and that scared her more than anything else. She had never felt weak in her life, as long as magic flowed through her veins and a wand was in her hand. Now that she had neither, she felt naked and completely vulnerable to whatever was coming next. She needed her friends, her family, and especially her mother.

But most of all, she needed Marco.

And yet…

“Marco,” Star sighed out, once they reached the stair landing that led to her bed chambers. “I want you to go see your parents.”

Marco blinked. This conversation had taken a surprising turn. “Uh, wh-what?”

“I know your mom’s due any day now. You’re getting a new baby brother.” She pulled away from him, still hanging onto his hands. “Please don’t let me and my problems get in the way of that. You should be happy.”

“Star, your problems are my problems. I care about you just as much as I care about my family.” Maybe even more, his thoughts concluded, but he sure wasn’t going to say that out loud.

“I know, Marco,” she whispered, cupping her hands around his cheeks. “But that’s where you’re needed right now. If—if I can’t have my mom, you should at least be spending time with yours. Go let her know how much you love her.” That was her head talking, even though everything in her heart was screaming to keep him beside her.

Marco chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, then nodded. “If that’s what you want me to do. I’ll be back in a couple days—”

“A week,” Star insisted, cutting him off sharply. “No less than that. That’ll give me enough time to come up with a game plan for when you get back.” Her lips quivered as they spread into a small smile. “And send me pics from the hospital. I need something to make me smile.”

“Deal,” Marco smiled back, squeezing her hands as they both turned their heads to look at her closed bedroom door. “I just want you to remember something: This title you have, that Wand you carried, and that magic you have inside...you are so much more than all of that. I know ‘cause I’ve seen it every day. And what you are is someone who never ever gives up. Not on herself, or the people she loves.” A lump rose in his throat, burning as the next words shook in the air, “Please don’t lose sight of who she is. I care about her too much.”

Star’s eyes brimmed once more, flinging her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. “I’ll try...I’ll try really really hard, Marco.”

Marco chuckled softly, just for a moment. A ripple of laughter that immediately ceased when a shock of electricity sparked his cheek, his mind blanking senselessly when the sensation of two soft lips pressing there pulled away just as quickly. His heartbeat quickened, and his face flushed — she didn’t just do that. He had to have imagined it, he had to.

“Your usual chair’s open,” Star said, jerking her head towards her bedroom door.

“A-are you sure?” Marco asked, sounding like he had gotten the wind knocked out of him. “You’re not sleep portalling again, are you?”

“No, but I’m kinda worried about nightmares. So no matter what they tell me, at least I can wake up and know you’re okay.”

“If...if that’s what you want,” he repeated, this time his mouth so dry it came out more like a wheeze. He felt like he was floating when Star pulled him by the hand through the door, crashing back to reality when his bottom hit the chair seat.

“You stay there,” Star ordered while she climbed back into bed. “Any closer and the guards will haul you outta here and hang you by your toes.”

“I think the guards’ll be the least of my worries,” Marco muttered — and right on cue, Star glanced over at the phone she had not checked since early the night before. Six unread texts from Tom. Why had it not even crossed her mind to give him a call?

“Marco—”

“Star, I told Tom I kissed you.”

She blinked. “You told him what?”

Marco exhaled, “That I kissed you, and I feel horrible about it.”

“Why would you tell him that?” she croaked out in the loudest voice she had exerted since they were in the tapestry room.

“‘Cause we’re friends and he deserves to know the truth, Star,” Marco countered just as loudly.

“Yeah, he does,” Star nodded, her pained eyes locking onto his.

“Okay cool, so we’re on the same page.”

“No Marco, I don’t think we are.” She flung herself onto her side, cocooning herself in the warm woolen blankets. “I guess we’ll just add it to the list of stuff to talk about when you get back.”

“But Star—”

“Goodnight, Marco,” came Star’s irritable muffled voice from the pillows, trying not to get herself worked up into a teary mess again. Sliding her hand under the pillow, her fingers grazed the pointed corners and sleek edges of the photobooth pictures she had snagged before leaving Ruberiot’s wedding. Marco thought he had done the right thing, when in reality he had just made her job in coming clean to Tom a lot harder.

She clutched the photo of the kiss hidden in the fluffed linens. A kiss she had melted into, a kiss she had reciprocated. And Marco hadn’t even noticed. 

We kissed, Marco.

“Goodnight, Star,” Marco replied quietly. Then he let his gaze drift out to the crisp evening, basking in the light of Mewni’s four gleaming moons. “Goodnight, Queen Moon,” he called out, hoping with everything inside of him that his wish would reach her ears.

Star bit her lip hard at that, swallowing back any urge to sob as her heart swelled with love and sorrow. Another gentle breeze wafted into the room, stroking her face like a mother’s kiss, and her nails clawed at the pillow under her head, the photo now crumpling in her hand.

“Goodnight, Mom,” came her tiny voice like a child’s terrified plea. “Wherever you are…”

Fight for me

If it’s not too late

Help me breathe again

No, this can’t be how the story ends…

[easkyrah]

Hello my dear Ea. I hope you would consider expanding your fanfictions to the Six of Crows fandom. Your writing is the brainchild of Leigh Bardugo and Sarah J. Maas. Bardugo's dark, complex, heavy to Maas's intricate, ambiguous, and misted writing styles impregnate your own style. The Six of Crows fandom is very quiet, and I'd think you'd be the perfect one to help it rise up. The Dregs could use a Wraith-like writer like you.

Dear anon: I hope this lived to your expectations, as it has to mine. I need a major refresher on Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom, as they are one of the rare books I am currently not hoarding in my library. If you want to send me details and summaries of this fandom, I beg of you so I can focus more on other relationships and scenes, rather than this futuristic one. The offer extends to everyone as well. Thank you for the prompt idea.

He was starved. Not for the grains of sustenance, but for something much deeper. An elusive abstract thought that knocked quite concretely against his heart and roared in his mind. 

Crooked Crow

The sky was bleeding.

Not the clear droplets of the salted water churned over cycles of time through shifting, phasing forms—but the thick, crimson cursed and created lifeblood of the slowly deceased and tortured mutilated.

Kaz Brekker leaned against his cane, staring at the scarlet sea that had gathered near the port, swarming into the crashing of waves of the roaring ocean.

Behind him, his crew celebrated in their houses, the tinkering of the glasses clinking and whisper of shared laughs and easy smiles filling the sordid rooms. In front of him, the Bastard of the Barrel imagined the ghost of a ship reigned through the infested seas of crime, a congregation for the crooked.

It was that one ship that held a chipped crack of his heart. It was that one ship that crushed the crooked. It was that one ship that carried his one facet he needed to continue—other than greed.

The scent of the rotten bodies did not drive him from the pier when the thin thread of hope of the ship docking held him firmly. The lines of blood pooling around his shoes did not have him walking away, but rather rooted in position. The overhaul of loneliness chained him to the pier.

For living life of emptiness had satiated his brain, but never his soul. His desires, long suppressed, a facet of one of his oppressed for the cravings for more and more riches. For too long had his dream of bathing in golds and silver and diamonds and crystals been fulfilled, leaving the blowing wind’s whisper of what else could their possibly be?

Surmounting over challenges from Van Eck’s heist to infiltration the Ice Prison…the days of the impossible had been checked.

Except one impossible did escape from him. Right from his fingertips, and could have been captured by the words ripping from his mouth.

“I will have you without your armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.”

The sound of true elation, of his heart thrumming an answering beat—the source of hope and soothing had dissipated upon that sailing ship—a forged weapon to make a difference, to bring down slavers and the wrongdoers that had wronged her and her mandate.

He was fooling himself. He didn’t give a damn about the ship. He only cared about the captain of the ship.

Inej Ghafa.

The Wraith.

The only Suli he believed that existed.

A shadowed, nimble shape crossed through the dampened mist and polluted fog.

Air left his lungs, and the Bastard of the Barrel untucked a handkerchief out of his pocket.

The shape emerged through the blur, an avenging angel of darkness with a mission of lightness.

Stepping out of the puddles of red, the Bastard of the Barrel wiped away the liquid-ruby coating the edges of his shoes.

The shape crested the end of the dock, the sound of the engine hissing towards its final gasp of air.

Strolling towards the very edge, the Bastard of the Barrel welcomed The Wraith with a calculated charm emanating from his inked body.

The shape shuddered to a stop, the sound of the platform slamming into the port. Shouts of victory from the latest conquest filled his ears, but he filtered through each sound until he heard that mystic laughter he could drink on till his sorrows drowned away.

When the first feminine figure stalked down the ramp with a panther’s agile, Kaz Brekker welcome Inej Ghafa home.

“Your…your ankle is fine?” Kaz Brekker rasped out.

Inej slowly turned her head at the man who had never learned what it was to be a child, to become the master and monster of the darkness, and thrived on the cunning and feral side of nature’s vices.

“Only a scar.” She tilted her head, and curled her legs into the office’s balcony. “Another reminder.”

“Is he dead?”

“Six feet under, strung and gutted.”

A grim smile. “Good.”

Silence fell upon them, and Inej looked back out the window where the moon faintly shone her beams onto the ghastly settlements, sticks and woods and stones fortified as a testament to the already weak will to survive.

Footsteps crossed the threshold, and a towering figure stood next to her small yet sturdy frame. She blinked up into the grayish rays.

A hand touched the top of hers, and it took years of vigorous training and restrained silence to not jolt.

If she looked down at the cold skin touching hers, he would most likely withdraw. So Inej made the bold decision to lean her head against his chest, soaking in his presence that had filled her past and present, and perhaps her future.

Kaz seemed to be walking the same path as she, as he slipped down onto the balcony next to her, wrapping hesitant arms around her waist. Inej swore she could feel the saints smiling down on her as the male tucked her under his chin, nimble fingers stroking her hair.

They said nothing as they stared out into the tranquility of oblivion in which Inej could detect the traces of music.

“Is there a celebration?” she said almost accusingly.

The fingers against her hair stopped. “Is this not one?”

“Saints, Kaz,” Inej drew a breath. “I thought Jesper or Nina were avoiding me.”

A heartbeat later, Kaz’s fingers resumed their ministrations. “That’s not possible. To merely not want to have you—” He fumbled with the words, shifting his weight slightly. “You are my Saint, Inej Ghafa. And I am the King of the Dregs.”

“Not Wraith?”

Inej didn’t need to turn around see the crooked smile when she already knew the man who had risen from the darkest holes of penury and violence to form an invisible empire of loyalty and creed.

“Is there a Suli proverb preventing you from being both?” The coldness of his touches kissed her exposed skin, sending flickers of warmth to every pore.

“I don’t think Saints are killers, Kaz,” she mused.

Silence. Then:

“You removed my gloves, saw my sins, and revealed the fallen,” Kaz said, his voice sandpaper. “Not all Saints arose because of holiness.”

“Kaz Brekker, what are you saying?”

From the fringes of vision, he knew that he would not his fairytale with Brody. From yesterday’s excursion resulting in today’s bloodshed, he knew that he had his years long vengeance completed. From today’s knowledge, Pekka Rollin’s strung and gutted body meant a chance at what Nina had so often preached, what Jesper claimed he fought for.

Inej gasped as a flutter and storm of crows streamed from the office, a flurry of darkness and softness, feathers beating into the night. When the sullen atmosphere fell calm again, Kaz had set her on her feet, where the rest of the crew—Jesper, Nina, Matthias, and Wylan—stood at the door frame, empty cages hanging from their arms.

Nina’s sweet sound of laughter warmed the room, Matthias staring not at the fact Inej was in Kaz’s embrace, but at the Grisha’s face of elation and contentedness. As Jesper grinned at Wylan’s red face, Kaz leaned down to Inej’s ear, his lips brushing her skin.

“You are not just my Saint,” Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel, whispered. “But my salvation.”

[moonbinandback]

My KCON experience!!!!

I just got home and I wanted to write down everything while it’s still fresh in my memory so pls prepare for a very long very screaming account of today’s amazing events ;___; (I’ll post the pics and videos I got soon!!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

so my mom and I drove together (she didn’t want me to go alone bc none of my irl friends like kpop lol rip s/o to my mom for being the coolest ever!!!), and we got to the venue at around 11:30ish. I wanted to get there earlier bc i was really paranoid about not getting an audience pass for astro ;___; we went to get our wristbands and stuff and our concert ticket barcodes ended up showing as invalid ?? ?! even tho we bought them from the official website ;~; so we had to get our tickets validated at staples center and then walk back to get our audience passes. after getting that sorted, I opened my passes and got Heize and Oh My Girl, both of which had already been completed :((( but as I was standing to the side trying to figure out if I could get passes off facebook, I overheard this group of ppl opening their audience passes and they were like “who did u get???” “uh... astro....” “me too....i don’t rly know them” and i was like HI HELLO DO U WANT THOSE BC IF NOT IM LOOKING FOR 2 PASSES FOR ASTRO NO PRESSURE THO and they were like “uhhh yeah sure” AND I GOT 2 AUDIENCE PASSES FOR FREE HOW LUCKY IS THAT !!!!! ! 😭😭 bless those ppl i hope they got hi touch or something lol they saved me like an hour of hunting for passes

after that we checked the room where fan engagements are held to see if there was a line for astro and there was already a crowd of like 60ish ppl there like 2 hours before the event and i was like fuk!!!!! but also it’s so nice to see fellow astro fans supporting our bois!! c: there were actually so many astro fans at the con i was so happy!! so we got in line and chilled and there were some rly cool fans handing out free astro banners with their own digital art, and one person was passing out these nice quality pics of the boys and asking “who’s ur bias??” and then just giving them out for free?? arohas are so nice ??? ???

then after we got into the room, i was like 3 rows from the very front of the audience barrier, but the hi touch ppl were way closer than us rip i was so jealous ;~; when the boys walked on i LOST MY FUKCING SHIT AS EXPECTED and OH YM GOD LET ME TELL U HOW BEAUTIFUL THEY ARE! !!!!!! they all had on very crisp clean button ups and slacks and they looked SO FRESH omg 

jinjin’s hair was so beautiful and smooth and he looked extra tiny today!!!!! i LOVE mj’s current hair color on him it looks so pretty and he also looked tiny af I LOVE!!!! sanha is SO FREAKING TALL like he absolutely towers over the hyungs lmaooooo but he’s also the CUTEST BAB his hair was slightly messy and very beautiful i cryyyy and rocky looked SO GOOD with his hair color!! it’s actually a lot more subtle irl than in the pics he posted recently :’) it’s like a very gentle auburn-burgundyish kinda color, and a little more brown than mj’s hair!

and eunwoo!!!! oh my god he is absolutely prince charming irl, even more so than in videos and pics like HOLY SHIT he is so stunning!!!! he was wearing this beautiful white button up and his brown hair makes him look EVEN MORE PRINCELY like i could not believe my eyes and when he hits u with THAT EYE SMILE u are deceased on the spot!!!!!!! he is a very beautiful dork and i love him!!! AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON BINNIE LIKE I THOUGHT I LOVED HIM A LOT BEFORE TODAY?? ??? WHTA THE FUCK ???? he is genuinely the most handsome and attractive person i have EVER seen like i was blown away by his natural charm, hes just SO DAMN CHARISMATIC IRL like if u dont stan bin before u see him irl.. ..u do afterwards lmao like he’s UNREAL ;__; he was wearing a bluish black button up with the tucked in and puffy look which I LOVE and some very well fitting slacks 👀 HES FINE AS FUCK YALL I RLY CANT EVEN EXPRESS HIS BEAUTY RN LIKE GOD DAMN!!! MY IDEAL MAN!!!! i was looking at all the bois but i kept going back to him like i honestly couldnt take my eyes off him he is so gorgeous!!!!

the Q&A session was CUTE AF but i couldnt hear them over the screams ;____; also ppl were sticking their phones in the air all over the place so my view was partially blocked sometimes but i got some lil viewing windows most of the time :D after the general questions from the mc they played this dice roll game where they have to do whatever action corresponds to the number they rolled! they did “switch parts” if i remember correctly, they sang confession and FUCKING JINJIN SANG I HEARD HIS BEAUTIFUL VOICE IRL I WAS DYING HE SOUNDED SO LOVELY!!!!!!!!!!!! (@FANTAGIO LET MY BOI SING!!!!) ALSO ROCKY SANG AND I LOST MY MIND HE WAS SO AMAZING AS WELL!!!! sanha, eunwoo, and mj sang their fave pop songs and they were SO GOOD as usual!!! 💞💞 ALSO EUNWOO RAPPED HE WAS SO CUTE

ok and here’s the part that literally killed me: THE SEXY DANCE WHAT THE FUUKCJKEJGHDJ I WAS ON FIRE!!!!!!! rocky’s dance was SO DAMN GOOD and i was like FUUUUUUUUCK ok that was amazing and then the bois were like “binnie u do it!!” and i was like GOD.. ..IF UR OUT THERE,,, ,,, MAKE IT HAPPEN and then not only bin but jinjin too! !!! BICH!!!! THEY ENDED ME RIGHT THEN AND THERE I CANT BELIEVE I SAW BIN DOING HIP THRUSTS IRL LIKE ?????? PLS WATCH THE FANCAM OF IT IF U HAVENT, IT WILL SAVE UR LIFE OK

so after the sexy dance i was in a state of euphoria ofc, and i remember them rolling aegyo on the dice and they were like “SANHA DO IT” and he was SO PRECIOUS I LOVE HIM he did the arm cross thing with a lil head shake and rocky joined him too!!!! god bless!!!!!!

during hi touch i just continued to bask in the boys’ presence hahah and i noticed they were doing mostly single handed high fives instead of the usual two hand high five/hand hold that they normally do :c but they all looked so cute and happy and smiley!!!! it made my heart so happy!!!!

after hi touch we took a group selfie with the boys (which i am definitely invisible in lmaooo) and then after leaving the room i was like “ah i heard they’ll be at the toyota booth at some point today i better go find out what time” and right as im walking to the booth i see a group of well dressed guys walking on the 2nd floor above me and im like “no way they beat us here” and then i saw a tall bean with white hair and i was like SANHAAAAAAA and they had just gotten to the toyota booth right as i got there!!!! a crowd had already formed but I got a decent view, and they were doing some more q&a that i couldn’t hear lmao but I was so happy that i got to see them again!!!!

when they left I walked around the marketplace and bought a dream part 1 poster (the one where they’re all in white dress shirts lookin cute af) and a poster of sleepy autumn story bin bc im WEAK and I LOVE MY BOIS

then i just hung around the food trucks area until we got to enter the concert venue, and my seats were pretty good!!! they weren’t GA or lowest tier, but i was decently close and i had a clear view of the stage like 95% of the time blesssss

first up was KARD and they were pretty good! their songs are not rly my style but they’re very talented and they look like a hardworking group!!! :D also they are all hot hahah

after that was Oh My Girl, and they were also good! again, their songs are not usually what i like but they were SUPER CUTE and charming!!

then Heize played!! I LOVE HEIZE OMG shes so pretty and her voice is beautiful!! i also love her style and her songs are so soothing/fun to listen to!! she asked us to turn on our phone flashlights while she performed Star and she started tearing up before she started singing and i was like NOOOOO BABY she almost made me cry ;~; anyways YES I LOVE HEIZE U SHOULD LISTEN TO HER IF U HAVENT YET

i had only rly listened to Energetic and I only knew ong seongwu before seeing wanna one, but HOLY SHIT they blew me away!!!!! i was really impressed by their choreo and they’re really great performers! their songs are catchy af damn!! AND ALL THE MEMBERS ARE CUTE like daniel?? ??? hot as fuck???? he had on this earring and im like damn?? what is this guy doing to me lmaooo

i hadn’t listened to any NCT 127 besides cherry bomb and I thought it was an okayish song, but again i was SO IMPRESSED by their performance!!! they were so on point for choreo, other theatrics, visuals, etc!!!! honestly i feel like all kpop groups are like 100000x better live bc of the choreo and atmosphere!! and there was a guy with light pink hair who was HOT AS FUKC i need to find him omg (taeyong? yeah hes fine as hell hahahah) also the bass in the staples center is SO INTENSE like my entire soul vibrated during cherry bomb lmao

GOT7 were great performers too but after hearing about the jaebum stuff im like 😒😒 also they give me a very arrogant vibe and im like eeeghhhh (sry to any GOT7 stans 😷) bambam looked cute tho shhhh

okay onto ASTROOOOOO so they first came on stage with Kim Tae Woo (who i don’t know at all rip sry ;__;) and they were wearing white/baby blue suits and they looked SO CUUUUTE they were covering Kim Tae Woo’s songs i think? and they did some CUTE AF CHOREO PLS WATCH THE LIVE STREAM TO SEE IT IT’S AMAZING

and then in the next song THEY ALL RAPPED AND I DIED LIKE U NEEED TO HEAR SANHA RAPPING IT IS THE ABSOLUTE CUTEST HES JUST A SOFT BAB HE DID SO GREAT

after doing 2 cover songs they LEFT THE STAGE and i was like THE FUKC!!!! but then i was like oh wait they’re definitely coming out later too lmao

BUT NOTHING COULDVE PREPARED ME FOR THEIR 2ND SET LIKE HOOOOOO MY GOD OOOOOOOOO M GYGOD THEY OPENED WITH JINJIN !!!!! DANCING!!!!!!!!! HE WAS GODLY AND THEN ROCKY!!!!! DANCED TOO!!!!!!! AND THEN THEY DANCED TOGETHER AND I WENT TO HEAVEN

THEIR OUTFITS WERE SOOOOO GOOOOOD they were all wearing tight black pants and eunwoo and sanha had on white graphic tees with black blazers and jinjin had a nice black striped dress shirt and mj had this super cool black and white jacket and ROCKY??? HAD A BEAUTIFUL WHITE DRESS SHIRT THAT HE SWEATED COMPLETELY THRU AND U COULD SEE HIS CHEST AASHSHJSFHSJ

BIN WAS ON ANOTHER PLANE OF BEAUTY LIKE WHAT THE FUCK!!! HE HAD A BLACK GRAPHIC TEE AND A GORGEOUS BROWNISH BURGUNDY SATIN(?) JACKET OVER AND HE LOOKED SO FUCKING AMAZING HOOOO MAN

when i first saw these outfits i was like CONCEPT CHANGE ???? DARK ASTRO ??? ? so we’ll see what happens omg but DAMN the more mature look suits them so well and as much as i love their cute style i 10000% support this more dark look like hnnnn yes

the first song they performed was AGAIN AKA THE SONG OF MY DREAMS THE CHOREO OF MY LIFE and it was EVERYTHING to see it performed live!!!!!! and in those outfits??? i was LIVING oh my god and i got to see bin and rocky do the pirouette flippy thing and it was SO AWESOME

they did their mentions next and they were so cute!!!! also rocky kept jumping and dancing around everywhere hes the lov of my life ;__; then they were like “we have a special surprise! we’re going to play.... pinata!!” but eunwoo pronounced it PEEN-uh-ta and i was like omg what is that...and then i figured it out when it came up on the screen LMAO EUNWOO IS SO CUTE

it was another randomized game to decide what activity to do and they got “fan gifts” so they all had 1 min to decorate a tshirt to give away, and they also gave away some other signed merch!! then sanha was like “we gave the shirts to the ppl in the front bc we can’t reach u up there, but we want to give u shirts too!!” and they brought out TSHIRT CANNONS HAHAH but they only shot as far as the lowest tier boooo :c

then they performed a shortened version of breathless and IT WAS AMAZING TO WITNESS EUNWOO CARRYING MJ IRL AAAAAAAA also it was kinda funny watching them perform a super cute poppy song in their current wardrobe lmaooo

then they did a bit of polaris and i was like EEEEYYYYYY and then they did baby!!!!!! the baby choreo is SO GOOD and it’s so amazing to see them do choreo irl bc u can really focus on them and see their talent and hard work come to life!!!!! I LVOE THEM SO MUCH AND I AM SO PROUD!!!! THEY ARE SO TALENTED AND THEYVE COME SO FAR I CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT THEY HAVE IN STORE FOR US 💕💕💕💕💕💕

[bookreadalongs]

It Ends with Us

6/15 Sat I’m pissed I accidentally deleted all my thoughts yet again.

I talked about how it would be great around page 85 if the boy was Atlas at the party. I talked about the socioeconomic juxtaposition between the two guys and Lily are foils. I talked about cute thoughtful things.

102. Ellis. This was just the right book for me at the right time. Oh! I also talked about how I thought of course she’d end up with Ryle, and how it reminded me of the ask Reddit thread “Widows, if your spouse came back to life, would you leave your current SO”? Then, how the responses varied, but what I got out of it was that everyone needs a different amount of time to mourn. It’s hard to move forward after such a great love is lost. OH!

I talked about how my greatest epic love story was two people growing up together, changing and evolving next to each other and as they changed and grew, somehow they only become more and more perfect for each other. It’s epic and a dream because that’s just not reality.

If your deceased loved one comes back, who knows how suited for each other you’ll be anymore? At some point, you just have to live with the fact that someone new is your future.

And I talked about how it started with suicide so I was like maybe Atlas commits suicide?

I talked about how I was glad she didn’t have a secret this time and that maybe Ryle had a secret, but Atlas’s was already known. The whole thing about this book is the naked truth. The gimmick of some underlying secret grows old. I love it though.

I walked into horizon books three times today to read this. I ended up having to buy it. Tia asked again why I didn’t just get a kindle…I think there is honestly something subconsciously comforting about holding a book and turning the pages. It goes back to when I was younger and had so much fun reading. It really is just a comfort. I have tried to read before on a kindle and just am less inclined to read. Maybe that’s just times I don’t feel like reading. I’ve read many a book on this phone right here.

I don’t know.

I just love books. I’ll take them digital. I’ll read them too.

on the beach now. Had to say a few things. Like how one 129 I thought Atlas would own the restaurant. And how the minute he was introduced to now he's suddenly felt like the front runner. It's like the notebook. She found the perfect guy. Attentive. In love with her. Loved by the parents. Loaded with a good job...but he built a house for her. Or a restaurant.

148. I knew it. He fricken owns the restaurant and went to her table because he wanted to know if t was her 149. The broken unfinished heart on her shoulder that Ryle kisses is to commemorate Atlas 156: but I thought her dad beat him up and that's how that ended 167: all that time...she knew that rooftop with a house on it. She searched for the nearest rooftop balcony...for him. Then she found Ryle 158; I thought that was going to end with "just keep swimming". CHoover is predictable in a lot of ways, but puts in some weirdly predictable twists that are underwhelmingly perfect...not that I ever see her twists coming -gotta get that last journal 159. A reward. Like a garden 165...fuckin from Ohio. This book just reached for me at the right time I wouldn't have gotten it if any other book interested me whatsoever today 166: and that is the first time I've seen or heard fuckface used outside of talking about what Rex said 168. Now I'm just comparing everything to Atlas. He was her best friend. He should've married her. He created her perfect day nine years ago by being miserable...maybe perfect is an overstatement 184, frick is this the end of his career? 185: holy snap...I kind of thought it would be the army guy...I just...I didn't want it to happen this way...his brother commit suicide, didn't he? This is why Alyssa was concerned that he loved her...the secret unveils. 188, wow. This is good. Really good. Seeing the confusion and hope of such a distorted situation and mind...I like it 192, at least one chance at forgiveness? At least? Very unsettling... 193, a lie. 202, why do you care about what Atlas thinks so much? Please end up with him. This is my downfall. Believing in past positive experiences over present to predict the future. This is another instance where CHoover is impressive in imprinting me wanting something to happen while still kind of in denial that it will 204, she wants Lily out of a relationship with her brother...knowing it'll hurt him and he loves her...why would she want that? 208, she must've told him. They were best friends. That's the sweetest, cutest thing I've ever heard of in a book...they both came from abusivo households...I love it so much...surely as book lovers read this, she must end up with him, right? All of that after he hit her? People can't love Ryle more than Atlas...not by this point 210, she started counting days like she did for Ryle for Atlas. See, if Atlas werent the better one, I'd just sound so stuck in the past Guck she's talking about loving as adults and comparing...shit 213, when the timing is right I'm holding on to that 217, Deb and Flow from finding memo 218, plz tell me part one was Syle...Ryle and part two is atlas 221, crap...we'll..maybe they won't get along? The beginning of the end? 222, ah shoot 223, wait...plans like that for the future in a book are only to be broken 225, aww fuck. No...Atlas hasn't just been here, cruising. Being perfect for nothing 227, husband...something bad will happen soon. Obviously. Things are just too good. Maybe he'll hit her... 230, IRONY THAT HE WILL HURT HER FOR ATLAS TRYING TO PROTECT HER BUT T WAS BOUND TO HAPPEN I love this because it makes me feel like I need to reread this in a new light. Like, were there any signs? Maybe? Maybe this is just developed? Oh gosh...the back saying sometimes the people you love hurt you the most. Shoot I thought that meant they'd definitely be endgame after he pushed her the first time I thought he found the journals 236, she knows. She has to. Also I forgot to write it, but he killed his brother? Maybe? Lead him to suicide? I don't know 244, ...what the hell...crap nuggets...UHGGG -there wouldn't be this much book left without Atlas coming back though 251, he's so much of your life now...if you break up...I guess she has the business. Where the fuck is Atlas? 257. Emerson and Ryle weird fricken name 260, don't let him blame the scotch 261, oh my fucking God. It's done. I knew it! ATLAS PLZ COME LIKE THE SUPERHERO YOU ARE 264, the moment she cried her mom wouldn't walk away was when she saw her dad almost raping her. This is so creepy 266, of course he couldn't have ended up with her. This book is so positively acclaimed...it couldn't have been if she stayed with her abuser 270. His love for her is stronger than the anger 273, he has a garden...for her. He knew it was for her 274, what a change of events. Him giving her a home, maybe some clothes, maybe some food 278, he's still so modest I love him so much 283. This alone...is she suicidal? This is what Atlas hoped she'd never feel. Something something Atlas because finding thing AHHH IS HE A HUFFLEPUFF? 295, I now see how she needed to be the way she is. She's so brace opening that shop, countering expectations and cliches. Yet...she finds herself being a cliche in the end...she just sees the gritty parts of herself. She had to always be this brace, even now. This could spring up on anyone, this book is trying to say. She was smart in the relationship taking it slow and all...yet this still happened. How? Well, we saw first hand. Kind of. Even now, she's brave. Yet, as always, jaded. 301, "I know he has at least three friends" I laughed. I love it 303, the naked truth thing was cute and good and all...but...with someone who you love and supposedly loves you so much, you shouldn't have to ask them to tell the truth. That's what they're getting at here 304, the ghost in her life came back and she still wanted him. 309, that's why he exited the narrative physically for so long...and mentally Soft. Last time...Ryle was just hard 316, fuck. I just had that moment when I was like AH DERR. She thinks she'll get everything dirty because she is a gardener. AH DUH. 323, I like that. I really like that. This book...handsome successful men can do this. It doesn't matter what appearances they give to the outside world, to their inner world either. Yes. Even if he saw her in such a sticky situation, he never should have hurt her...mental and emotional abuse is next, right 326, yeah. Wow. She feels like her dad because...people can hurt people in different ways. It doesn't make things better 336, yo. Atlas made that decision Wow damn I love this book I am so fucking basic but I'm fine with it 360, me and feeing comfortable at work, then feeling very upset when Jim was sarcastic. Emily said a day later never to take anything he says seriously, but it hurt me. Just putting so much hope and comfort into any one thing hurts when it's ripped out from under you...getting too comfortable is dangerous 361. AHHHHHHHH IT ENDS WIH US DOESNT REFER TO HER AND ATLAS OR HER AND RYDER RYLE IT ENDS WITH HER AND EM. 362, BOYLSTON?! Been waiting for a sick Boston drop that I actually knew besides Mass hospital 367, AHHHHHHH 19:25

373. 1931. AWWWWW If an author loves you, you never die