#Chuck Rio | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scattered-irises · 2 years

Text

Tale III: The Prince in the Chest

Illustration by me

Maybe don’t hunt maidens for sport as your birthday celebration. Maybe go to Chuck E. Cheese’s.

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4193

Characters: Black Mist, Rei Shingetsu, Mr. Heartland, Don Thousand, Vector

Relationships: Black Mist/Rei Shingetsu kinda

Warnings: Strangulation, death

Summary: A retelling of both The Princess in the Chest and The Black Princess. A prince cursed to die requests for his father to send a guard to protect his corpse every night. Each morning, the guard is discovered dead, his neck mangled by blackened hands.

Once upon a time, a king wished for a child.

Nightly, he prayed for a child black as night, with eyes colored like gold and lips as purple as a fresh bruise. The ghastly wish suited the king’s reputation as a black-hearted warlord, for no woman dared approach him. Any human he laid with shriveled away like wilted flowers, his touch poison to all.

After nights of praying, the heavens, so fearful of invoking his wrath, finally granted his wish. Spinning together the darkest threads of night and picking two of the brightest stars in the sky, a child was woven by the hands of fallen angels. Squeezing the juices of the cursed wild pansy, the child’s lips were colored the ghastly purple that the king had requested.

Sending the youngest of the fallen angels to deliver the child, the angel quickly put the child in a bassinet and knocked on the castle gates. Before a guard could discover them, they returned to the darkest depths of the sky.

Once the child was discovered by the morning guards, the three young men swore that they heard the wind whisper to them a single word.

Mist.

Thus, that became the name of the child.

♛

Through the woods came the sounds of hoofbeats and a woman screaming. The young village maiden tore through the trees, the horses and hounds only paces behind. The crown of flowers her mother had gifted her had been long lost to the winds. The pure-white dress she wore had been muddied into a dark black. On bare feet she ran, her feet bloodied and scratched from the various detritus that littered the forest paths.

From behind, she heard the young prince’s laughter and his bevvy of brigands, intent on chasing her down like prey.

Once a year, on the prince’s birthday, a barbaric hunt was enacted, in which the fairest maiden in the land was chosen to be the object of the hunt. Although many fair and brave-hearted maidens had valiantly volunteered themselves, none had ever returned.

The maiden found herself in a clearing in the woods, no path except for the one she had run from remaining. Her breath stuck in her throat as the black destrier leapt into the clearing, carrying the Black Prince. He smiled, revealing an array of white teeth, so unlike his ink-colored skin. Alighting from his steed, he gave the maiden a mocking bow and readied his crossbow.

From behind, his friends alighted as well, chuckling as their eyes ran over the maiden’s disheveled appearance.

“A bit too blue and scrawny for my tastes, wouldn’t you agree?” drawled the prince as he picks out a bolt.

He blew on the tip and then loaded it into the bow.

“I prefer maidens with a bit more meat on their thighs and fiery-orange hair. I’ll have to ask for the eyes of the Maiden Scout upon my return,” he muttered.

“Please, my lord, have mercy!” sobbed the maiden. She fell upon her knees, lathering the prince’s boot with kisses.

Mist sneered and aimed the crossbow at her head. He stifled a yawn.

“Don’t waste your breath. Every year it’s the same set of pleas and crying.”

He chuckled and tapped the maiden’s head with his bow. He lowered his voice, as if they were intimate lovers.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to have your mouth stuffed with an apple when we serve you at the table,” he drawled.

Cackling, he released the bolt into the maiden’s head. It sunk through her blue hair and through her skull with a sickening crunch. Not a single cry escaped from the young woman as the light faded from her eyes, her mouth open in a small “O.” The prince let out a triumphant cackle as she fell before him. His men laughed in tandem with him until the maiden twitched. With one hand, the maiden grabbed the bow and pulled it away from her. When she looked up at the prince, her eyes flashed with a crimson light. A breeze blew across the clearing, carrying with it the smell of flowers.

Before the hunting party, the maiden’s stained robes lengthened into a magnificent robe and flowers began to sprout from her hair. Wings like panes of stained glass sprouted from her back and claws began to grow from the maiden’s hands.

“For sixteen years this barbaric tradition has happened in my woods without my intervention,” boomed a magnificent voice. “Yet this year will be the last. Sixteen innocent maidens have spilled their blood into my streams and trees, their spirits eternally trapped on this earth. What say you to this crime?”

The Black Prince steadied his grip on his crossbow while the members of his hunting party quivered in fear. He gazed at the forest spirit with unflinching eyes.

“M-my lord, that is the great forest guardian Merag. It would not do to anger her,” cautioned a hunter.

“Quiet,” spat Mist. He turned back to the imposing forest guardian. “I say that it is destiny. The weak exist to serve the strong.”

Merag narrowed her eyes. She pointed an accusatory finger at the prince.

“You have long lost your human heart and have thus reduced yourself to no more than a monster. May this curse I bring seal you away for the rest of your days, broken only when a fool who sees the spark within the black depths of your soul deigns to stay with you for three nights and three days,” invoked the forest spirit.

Her voice echoed across the forest, her vow heard by all the fauna and flora in the kingdom. The wind stirred around the hunting party. Slowly, the Black Prince’s men could feel fur growing through their leather armor. They wailed in pain as their bones began to bend and crack, forcing them onto their knees. Their mouths were soon filled with teeth and their tongues lengthened and lolled out of their newly-formed jaws. Their screams soon turned into pained howls as the men-turned-wolves fled from the forest guardian.

Far, far away the wolves ran, filling the rest of their miserable days in distant lands. In various tales they have wandered, none able to achieve happiness.

Meanwhile, the Black Prince laughed at the forest guardian.

“Punish my men? Why, you’ve only revealed their true forms. Dogs to be kicked, the lot of them,” he sneered.

“Look at your hands,” commanded Merag.

The prince looked at his hands to find a series of white markings crawling up them. They twisted and turned like snakes, spreading their stiffening sensations across his body.

“Come morning, you will be nothing more than a corpse. Go and tell your demon father to build a coffin and place you in the royal cathedral,” instructed the forest guardian. “May the holy spirits within cleanse your soul.”

“And if I don’t?” retorted the prince.

“Then you will die forgotten by all.”

Without another word, Merag disappeared, leaving behind the smell of fresh blossoms. With the forest guardian’s words echoing in his mind, the Black Prince reluctantly hurried home, the markings across his body continuing to spread.

When his father, King Don, heard of the curse, he twisted his lips in distaste.

“Have the wooden coffin built and the cathedral altar. We will prove to this guardian that she is a fool.”

As the sun set, Mist began to feel his vision fade and his body stiffen. Before he could protest, he was placed into his coffin, the lid gently closed. In the darkness, his eyes eventually close and he lets out one final breath before succumbing to the forest guardian’s curse.

Angered by the curse placed upon his beloved son, King Don immediately set out to break the guardian’s curse. Placing a young squire in the confines of the cathedral, he sealed the doors shut and waited for three days and three nights.

When the doors were opened once again, a foul stench filled the air. By the attendants’ feet were the remains of the young squire, long-rotted and worm-eaten. Checking upon the Black Prince’s coffin, the dead prince’s body remained pristine, his dark skin drinking in the sunlight that was pouring onto him.

King Don twisted his lips.

“Another one, then,” he decided.

By the end of the week, seven men had perished, their mangled corpses found by the cathedral doors each morning. News of the mysterious men’s deaths spread far and wide, dissuading any young men from standing guard.

“A bag of gold for the guard then!” proposed the angered king.

His promise of treasures and riches piled on as the corpses continued to pile up at the cathedral when at last, at his wits’ end, the king declared,

“My crown for the one who can restore my son to life!”

And yet, no matter how many fools entranced by the promise of a crown came, an equal number of fools perished within the walls of the cathedral with mangled necks and blackened skin.

Until one day, a young shepherd by the name of Shingetsu arrived.

King Don scoffed upon seeing the young man, his tanned skin and sunny freckles the mark of his poverty. Yet no men had volunteered to attend to his son’s pristine corpse in days. On the first night, the king served Shingetsu a servant’s meal of apples and porridge, not wishing to waste food on a man that would be found dead the very next morning.

Silently, the shepherd accepted his meal and walked into the cathedral alone. The doors closed behind him and the shepherd sat in wait.

♛

Shingetsu wrapped his arms around himself, feeling the chilly night air creeping through the cracks of the walls. There was nothing left for him to return to, his entire flock devoured by a pack of wolves. He had heard of great riches awaiting him at the capitol, yet had found only poverty and despair. Not even the lowliest of tanners had accepted him as an apprentice so he had spent his days as a beggar.

When news of the king’s son had reached him, Shingetsu had secretly rejoiced among his fellow subjects. Yet as the king’s promises of riches increased, more and more of Shingetsu’s friends had been led away, never to return. With nothing left in his purse, his companions all devoured by the ghastly cathedral and the Black Prince’s spirit, and an empty stomach, Shingetsu had come to the castle gates expecting to be struck on sight.

Yet he is here within the confines of the cathedral with nothing but the corpses of past sentries and the Black Prince to accompany him. He swallows hard.

“Hide in the pulpit, young one,” whispers a voice.

Shingetsu stiffens.

“Who…?”

“A friend,” promises the voice. “Hurry, there isn’t much time before the cursed prince awakens.”

“Why should I listen to you?” hisses Shingetsu.

“Listen to me if you value your life, unlike these fools who were deafened by greed and valor,” muttered the voice. “Or are you a fool as well?”

Before Shingetsu, a fly buzzes. Before he can raise his hands to crush it, he sees the outline of a man’s head on the fly.

“Hurry,” buzzes the fly. “Before the third chime.”

With nothing to lose, Shingetsu rushes to the pulpit and hides underneath it. He stares down at his hands, wondering if he had imagined the fly with the man’s head. As the clocktower strikes the first chime, he hears a creaking sound. His heart skips a beat.

Peeking out of the pulpit at the second chime, his heart nearly lurches to his throat when the Black Prince’s coffin opens. On the third chime, a black figure crawls out of the coffin and stumbles down the stairs, its head swiveling back and forth.

“Where is the sentry for tonight?” calls the black shadow.

“Keep your lips sealed if you value your life,” hisses the fly’s voice.

Shingetsu places his hands over his lips to prevent himself from crying out.

“TRAITOR!” screeches the Black Prince’s corpse as he lurches through the aisles. “WHERE IS THE SENTRY?!”

After a few moments, Shingetsu bites his lips and stifles a sigh.

“Come out, come out, dear sentry…,” drawls the shadow. “If not, you will suffer a most gruesome death. My hands around your neck, twisting, twisting it like I would a goose’s…”

The prince lets out a cackle that chills Shingetsu to the bones.

“If you can remain silent until the fourth bell, he will return to his coffin and you will be able to see the dawn,” promises the fly. “If not…”

Shingetsu swallows hard and presses his hand harder against his mouth. He nods in understanding.

When the prince hears the shadow approaching the pulpit, he braces himself to be discovered. An eternity passes before he hears the footsteps recede. Sniffing fills the air.

“Oh, I know you’re there,” calls the prince. “You smell fresh, for one.”

A low chuckle follows.

“I’ll find you. Just you wait.”

The poor shepherd squeezes his eyes shut and curls into a ball. After what feels like an eternity, his muscles shriek in protest and he stretches out. The pulpit creaks under his touch. Immediately, he can hear running footsteps and stifles a scream as the feet of the Black Prince come into view before him.

“Ah, there you are…hiding just like a rat,” chuckles the prince. “Come out, now. The game is over.”

Shaking, Shingetsu bites his hands just as the four o'clock bell chimes.

The prince stiffens and then slowly turns away from Shingetsu.

“A wager, then. If you can survive for three days and three nights, I promise you my hand in marriage.”

His footsteps recede and soon after, the sound of the coffin lid shutting makes Shingetsu release his grip from his mouth. He heaves a sigh of relief and soon falls into a deep sleep.

♛

“H-he’s alive!” calls the morning guard’s voice.

Shingetsu stirs awake as a pair of strong hands escort him out of the cathedral. He is rushed into the castle and into the king’s breakfast room, where he is met by the raised eyebrows of the king.

“Well. Isn’t this something?” murmurs the king. “Fetch him his meal.”

In a blink of an eye, a breakfast of eggs, bread, ham, freshly picked fruit and vegetables is laid before the astonished shepherd. He eats alongside the king, the sounds of their silverware scraping against their plates the only conversation. Quickly, Shingetsu eats all that he can and puts the rest in his pockets. The king sneers.

“I don’t know what trickery you performed last night, but I doubt that I will see you tomorrow,” says the king.

Shingetsu stares down at his reflection in his golden plate.

A part of him wanted to prove the king wrong. Another part of him wished for night to arrive faster.

♛

He opens the coffin to find the Black Prince’s pristine corpse. Although he has been dead for more than three months, not a single part of the prince’s body has decayed. The forest guardian’s marks have covered his body entirely, making his skin seem as if it had been painted upon. Hesitantly, Shingetsu places a hand on the prince’s skin while his other hand holds a dagger. Cold. There was no doubt that the wicked prince was dead.

“Hurry, hurry, with the corpses this time, end of the line,” urges the fly’s voice.

Shingetsu shuts the coffin lid and hurries down into the crypts. A long line of decaying corpses line the walls, their stench nearly making the shepherd faint.

“I know, it isn’t pleasant, but it’s better than having your neck twisted!” whispers the fly.

As the first chime rings, Shingetsu gulps in a deep breath and runs to the end of the crypt. He tries not to look at the corpses, knowing all too well that some would have familiar faces. Crawling next to the most recent corpse, Shingetsu closes his eyes and crosses his arms together.

“Excellent,” murmurs the fly just as the third chime strikes.

“Would you be quiet?!” hisses Shingetsu. “You’re such a bother.”

The fly buzzes, as if it was laughing.

“That was why I was cursed in the first place.”

“Suitable that you gained the form of a fly. Bastards never stop buzzing,” mutters Shingetsu.

Above the two, they hear footsteps. They were slow at first, as if the walker was growing accustomed to the action. Then the plodding footsteps turned into running.

“NOT HERE?!” howls the Black Prince from above.

It took all of Shingetsu’s self-control to not move his hands to his mouth.

Soon, the footsteps drew closer until Shingetsu and the fly could hear them descending the crypt’s frigid stairs. The prince’s sniffing fills the air.

“There you are…,” he drawls. “Clever boy, hiding among all of these fools. But ah, ah, I have a solution for that. I will squeeze all of these toes and the warm one will be yours!”

Shingetsu forces himself to remain still as the prince begins his test, languidly making his way down the aisles of the dead. The young man didn’t count the number of corpses before him, but he hopes that they will buy him enough time. In the darkness, he keeps his eyes closed, ears strained for the prince’s footsteps.

A sheen of sweat has covered Shingetsu’s face by the time the prince arrives at the corpse beside him.

“Not this one either…,” mutters the prince.

Shingetsu stifles a cry as he feels the prince’s finger hover over his toes.

“Then this must be yours, clever sentry,” declares the prince. “But I will always find you. We princes are of a sensitive sort.”

The prince’s frigid touch brushes against Shingetsu’s toes as the clock chimes four times. A hiss of annoyance escapes from the prince as he is forced to return to his coffin.

“One more night,” hisses the corpse as he pulls away. “And then you will be mine.”

The shepherd doesn’t relax until he hears the sound of the coffin slamming above him. Even then, he waits for a few more moments until he detangles himself from the corpses to make his way towards the cathedral doors.

“Don’t celebrate yet. The third night will be the hardest,” whispers the fly.

With the fly’s vow echoing in his mind, Shingetsu falls asleep.

When he awakens to the same astonished guard, Shingetsu greets him with a weak wave. Beside him is the king, who gazes down at him with a frown.

“You are lucky, that is all,” mutters King Don as he turns away. “Serve him his breakfast and give him clothes fit for a guest of the king.”

Happily clothed and fed, Shingetsu returns to the cathedral at sunset in high spirits. When the doors close behind him and the night guards lock the doors, Shingetsu walks through the aisles in search of his now-familiar friend. Soon, the fly buzzes by his ear.

“Underneath the altar tonight. Once the prince comes out, you must crawl into his coffin and remain there until morning,” instructs the fly.

A chill creeps up Shingetsu’s spine.

“Surely, there must be another way,” he protests.

“There isn’t. Please, you must trust me,” urges the fly.

Sighing, Shingetsu swallows the last bit of wine that he had saved from the night’s dinner. Then he crawls beneath the coffin’s altar and waits.

The chiming of the three o’clock bell stirs him awake. The coffin above him creaks open and the prince languidly walks out of his prison. Once again, he sniffs the air.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” calls the prince.

Shingetsu rapidly blinks the sleep from his eyes and prepares himself to run. In the silence that follows, he grips the dagger by his belt. The prince chuckles.

“Very well. I will play your game.”

Much to Shingetsu’s relief, the prince walks down the steps and towards the pulpit.

“Now! Now!” urges the fly.

Blearily, the shepherd crawls out from beneath the altar and quietly opens the coffin lid. He swallows hard as he crawls inside, praying that the lid wouldn’t slam shut. Easing the lid down upon him, he screws his eyes shut and wraps his fingers around the dagger.

Only one more night.

That was all.

“Not in the pulpit? Then the crypt…,” muses the prince.

His fading footsteps make Shingetsu slightly relax until he remembers the prince and king’s promise. The crown and the Black Prince’s hand in marriage. He would never escape from these two blighted individuals for the rest of his life. A part of him is tempted to run out and attract the prince’s attention before the fourth bell chimes.

When the prince returns, Shingetsu can hear his footsteps making their way back to the altar.

“Now where could you be…?” chuckles the prince.

Silence.

The dagger in Shingetsu’s grip has become clammy with sweat.

“Oh my love…,” calls the prince. “It’s quite alright to crawl out of your hole now.”

The pet name makes Shingetsu release his grip from the blade, wipe his hands on his trousers and grip his weapon with greater intensity. He can hear the prince approaching his hiding place with slow, deliberate steps.

“I’ve returned to life and you must marry me or else a terrible curse will befall us both,” sighs the prince. His voice takes on a harsher tone with the next sentence. “Come out now.”

“Not until the fourth bell,” hisses the fly.

“I’m a man of my word, sentry. Like the cursed frog prince, I promise I won’t wring your neck if you reveal yourself to me now. Don’t make me drag you from your hiding place,” threatens the prince.

Another moment of silence passed by. The prince growls. He approaches the coffin and knocks on the wooden lid. Shingetsu’s hands begin to shake.

“Open up,” commands the prince. “Don’t make me do this.”

Shingetsu remains silent and still, willing himself to disappear.

The sound of teeth gnashing follows. Ka thunk. Fingers wrap around the lid of the coffin. With his heart in his throat, Shingetsu readies his blade. Distantly, the four o’clock bells chime, yet the fingers on the coffin lid refuse to move away. Instead, they open up the lid to reveal the prince’s unmarked face. He gives the shepherd a smile full of teeth.

“I found you,” he drawls in a singsong voice. “And you have released me from my curse.”

He grabs Shingetsu’s wrist and pulls him out of the coffin. Reluctantly, the fly also flies out beside him. Frowning, the prince crushes it between his two hands before Shingetsu can let out a cry.

“Disgusting things, flies,” sneers the prince. “Now, we are going to be wed at dawn to ensure that nothing terrible happens to the both of us.”

“And if I say no?” utters Shingetsu.

Mist’s smile widens.

“Then I will wring your neck just like all of those other fools.”

Horror fills Shingetsu’s eyes as he realizes that the curse had been no curse at all but a protective spell enacted to protect the people of this land.

“V-very well,” utters the shepherd. “I will marry you.”

“Excellent!” laughs the prince. “Come dawn, we will be the happiest couple in the land.”

He walks the terrified shepherd down the aisle and towards the doors of the cathedral, awaiting the king and his retinue. Before Shingetsu can speak, a loud thunderclap echoes across the cathedral. The Black Prince collapses onto the floor, a dark puddle pooling around his head. His eyes are wide open in shock. Panickedly turning around, Shingetsu stiffens when he sees his own reflection walking towards him.

“Now here’s a problem,” begins his mirror-image, amethyst eyes glinting with annoyance. “If I kill the prince, you’ll have a happy ending and it’ll just be the same all over again. Even if you weren’t on my list, I’d have killed you anyways. ”

“The same! The same!” chimes a smaller voice above his head.

Shingetsu’s mirror image aims a gray staff at himself.

“Who…are you?” utters Shingetsu.

Vector feigns a pout.

“I’m disappointed that you don’t remember me.”

A flash fills Shingetsu’s vision before a sharp pain blooms at the front of his head. He falls to the ground beside the lifeless prince’s corpse.

Kicking the bodies to make sure that they’re dead, Vector smirks in satisfaction when they remain still. Taking out a stamp from his hat, he marks yet another eliminated fairytale character from his list.

“Really, you’re as ugly as ever,” he mutters.

Despite that, he can still hear his twin brother’s laughter from another life, long, long ago.

Really, he hates that this cycle of reincarnation makes him face everyone that he’s hated and loved throughout his life. They never remember him, but he always does. Neither dead nor alive, he can only watch the wheel of samsara turn further and further away from him.

As food begins to lose its flavor and emotions slowly drain out of him, he wonders what he will be once he��s emptied of all his mortal sensations.

#zexal #black mist #number 96 #rei shingetsu #vector zexal #don thousand #rio kamishiro #art from iris #writing from iris #the first and last time we reserved a table at Chuck E Cheese's the staff there were continuously rushing for us to finish and fuck off #I was like 4 #Man.#Maybe I SHOULD just go and hunt maidens for sport #H☆H☆S

17 notes · View notes

remindmetoreed · 1 year

Text

nov 19

hoping to finish The Nineties by Chuck Klosterman this weekend. I have about 45 pages left to go, but I have some academic work that desperately needs my attention (if you wanna follow my studyblr: @alexistudies)

also, i'm liking this rhythm i've found of reading 1 fiction book and 1 nonfiction book simultaneously.

next nonfiction read: the molecule of more by daniel z lieberman and michael e long

next fiction read: if we were villains by ml rio (gotta keep the dark academia vibes going, yk?)

#remindmetoreed #the nineties by chuck klosterman #nonfiction #pop culture #bookblr #the molecule of more by daniel z lieberman #if we were villains by ml rio #reading #book blog #book lover #book addict #books

2 notes · View notes

random-racehorses · 8 months

Text

Random Real Thoroughbred: RIO CHUCK

RIO CHUCK is a colt born in Argentina in 2018. By CHUCK BERRY out of AMFISSA. Link to their pedigreequery page: https://www.pedigreequery.com/rio+chuck

#/rio+chuck

0 notes

julio-viernes · 2 years

Video

youtube

No es el final del “Homenaje a Canito”, pero podría serlo, porque es completamente lo mismo. Son los Beach Boys con Paul Revere and The Raiders interpretando el ultra clásico “Johnny B. Goode” en 1969. Curioso que el “acto fundacional” de la nueva ola madrileña acabase con el popurrí tan convencional, ranciete, de “La Plaga” (Teen Tops, la Orquesta Platería la tocó en Canet Rock 1975, 2′53″, solo que no iban de modernos) y el mismo eterno “Johnny” de Chuck Berry. Paradojas de la vida. O no. Bueno, salió a escena la “vieja nueva ola” y pasó lo que pasó... “Ahí Viene la Regla, Manuela”, lo de la Trapera entre la Platería y Canito fue otra cosa totalmente distinta. Sangrante, claro. Rancionario.

#the beach boys #paul revere and the raiders #chuck berry #orquesta plateria #la banda trapera del rio

1 note · View note

mayearies · 7 months

Text

ꨄ BONCHINCHE HOUR .. miles g. morales ⟡

󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠 “my ma can be really chatty sometimes. she talks her own ear off.”

✦ synopsis you never took rio for someone who would talk a lot. she seemed pretty closeted and quiet around everyone else but her son. well, i guess today you saw that side of her for the first time

✦ genre giggles

✦ disclaimer possible innacurate spanish, possible rio ooc, lazy maye alert ALSO CREDITS TO DALIA FOR THE NAME SORRY SORRY

✦ translations ¿me estás culpando por esto? / are you blaming me for this?

“seriously? she doesn’t seem like one to talk much.” miles’ soft and relaxed expression remained as he was focused on the movie you two were supposed to be watching, “trust me. once you know her like i do, that’ll change.”

you didn’t believe him a whole lot. she wasn’t hostile or anything towards you—a few how are you’s and you would go your separate ways. “mhm.”

“hey! don’t doubt me.” he pouted, tickling your stomach making you squirm. “now go get us some popcorn so we can watch this movie.” you raised an eyebrow and nodded with a laugh under your breath.

walking into the kitchen, ms. morales was leaning against the counter drinking some tea. she looked like he had just gotten off of a shift. well, this would be a little awkward. “oh! hi, ms. morales. sorry i didnt- i didnt expect you to be back home this early.”

“hm? oh no, they let me leave early tonight,” she chucked under her breath as she sipped, “needed that break anyway. what’re you and miles doing up so late?”

“just planning to watch a movie. i picked out a horror movie and he hesitated. yet, he tryna pick fights with random people sometimes. odd, right?” you chuckled as you grabbed the bag of popcorn out the pantry. you heard her laugh, too.

“he’s always been odd—believe it or not.” you mouthed the word ‘seriously?’ and she nodded with her eyes wide. “this little boy would do the weirdest things when he was younger. ay dios mio, he was such a hassle.”

“this one time—he was doing some arts and crafts with scissors and all, i walk out of the room for five minutes. there he is. with half of his hair on the floor. now you know the reason why one of his braids is shorter.”

you snorted, and you’re pretty sure miles grew suspicious. that and you were gone a little too long to just be getting popcorn, “he told me it was his barber!”

“his barber??? nobody else is touching that damn head of his. you know what-” rio snapped her fingers and there he was. “¿me estás culpando por esto?” miles hummed in confusion until she gestured his braids.

“you did not tell her about that story.” she raised her eyebrows, “oh, i did tell her about that story.” miles groaned as if he was in agony, and he probably was.

despite his overrall character coming off as cold and stoic, he was just like any other teenage boy your age. dramatic and sassy for no apparent reason. “oh! did i tell you the time i caught him singing once?”

“mom.”

“or the time i first found out about him and his obsession for comics-con?”

“mom..!”

“or when i found him putting cat hairclips in his ha-”

“alright, conversation over!” he shoved the bag of popcorn into your hands and pushed you down the hallway towards his room, giving his mom a bothered stare. “they’re in his top drawer!”

“MOM.”

@ mayearies , no swiping!

#! ୨🧳ɞ﹒delivery! ₊˚#miles g morales #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales blurbs #e!42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles 42 #earth 42 miles fluff #42 miles morales #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #miles morales earth 42 #42

623 notes · View notes

multifariousqueer · 11 months

Text

Don’t be late

A/n: Keep requesting fics and pt.2 will be out tomorrow sometime

Pairing: Miles Morales(1610) x Fem reader

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, other than that, nothing

“Okay so, I’ll be there at 3:00 with your parents favorite flower and a firm handshake for your other parent” Miles questioned, putting on his suit

“Yes, Miles; but DON’T BE LATE!!!!! My parents hate that they think it is “unprofessional” and honestly I would want you to be like 15 minutes early but I know that thats hard because of Spider-Man shit.” You said

“Okay, Mami. Thank you for factoring Spider-Man shit.” He said, jumping off of a building

“No problem, just remember-” you started

“I know. I know, don’t be late.” Miles finished

“Good boy, see you soon!” you departed

You and Miles had been dating for three months now and it was finally time for you to meet each others’ parents. Well... more like it was Miles’ turn to meet your family because you met Mr and Mrs. Morales and they adored you. You told them that you played an instrument, write and that you wanted to go into(your future career) and they were ecstatic that you had goals for your future:

“so! Do you plan on staying in New York or moving out of state like Miles?” Mrs. Morales asked

“I plan on going to New York University and studying(field that relates to your future career).” You explained

“Oh that’s wonderful! It’s so nice to meet a girl with goals, not like that Gwanda that Miles hangs out with” Mrs. Morales said

“MOM!” Miles said, eyes wide with embarrasment

You just chucked and said thank you for the compliment

“So how long have you and Miles been friends?” Mr. Morales asked

“Three months”

“Three months, sixteen days, twenty three hours and seventeen seconds”

You and Miles spoke at the same time but Miles added the minutes and seconds.

Miles’ parents just looked at eachother and laughed. Miles wore a smirk and you started blushing. At first, you thought it was just Miles being a smartass but if he was, he wouldn’t have went that far. It was only a matter of time before you two started dating and the Morales family was ecstatic:

“Oh, Mijo you’re finally dating a girl worth dating. I mean sure, her Spanish could use some work but we can work on that with her; speak to her in Spanish, Mi Amor” Mrs. Morales gushed

“Mami, stop it.” Miles said with a smirk

“Rio! He’s smiling! Miles has a girlfriend, Miles has a girlfriend” Mr. Morales teased

“Dad!” He said

“So are you taking her out? Have you decided where you’re going for a date? Is she your girlfriend? When will you ask her? Do you have to ask her?” Mrs. Morales asked

“Mami! I’m gonna ask her after I meet her parents” Miles admitted

“Oh good!” Mrs. Morales said

“Remember son, shake her dad’s hand, give her mom flowers, hug her but not too tight and call them Mr and Mrs(y/l/n). Kids today have no respect for their elders and don’t be one of those people” Mr. Morales lectured

“I know dad” Miles said

The idea of meeting your parents was a bit daunting to him but he knew that it would be okay. After all, it was so far away; ya’ll were in the first stages of dating so it wouldn’t be any time soon, right?

Well now today was the day; it came up so fast but you knew you would make it past the initial dating stages since y’all were friends first. Miles was sweating bullets as his parents lectured him the night before after dinner.

“Now Miles make sure you have a firm handshake” Mr. Morales said

He made Miles practice his handshake until he got it just right, even going as far as to act out possible scenarios:

“Boom! You blew it Miles. I hate you, stay away from my daughter” Miles’ dad pretended

“Dad!” Miles said

“I’m not your dad, young man” He acted.

Although his Emmy award winning performance was effective on Miles, his mom’s approach was better:

“Just be yourself, papa. Be nice to her mom and dad and be a gentleman. If she goes anywhere, open the door for her, give her flowers are ya’ll kissing yet?” Mrs. Morales questioned

“Mom! No we aren’t yet, I have a plan for that” Miles said

“You aren’t kissing but y’all have been dating for three months?” She questioned

“We’re taking it slow, mom” Miles said, walking away to get ready for bed

“Okay. Okay, at least you’re not being fast” She said

“Yeah well, goodnight Mom!” Miles said, walking away

The day finally came and Miles was getting ready to go to the convenience store to get flowers and your favorite candy, but his senses went off and he took off his clothes and handled his spider-man shit. He managed to subdue the first guy but when he went to the convenience store, he ran across a guy that looked like a Dalmatian and a cow. The guy went on a whole shpiel about how he was Miles’ arch enemy and how this was the “fight of their lives”. Miles looked at the time and it read 2:45 and Miles knew he had a few minutes to spare getting this guy put away.

The guy took longer than expected but eventually, he got finished at 2:57. Your apartment was three minutes away and he knew he could make it in time however, he forgot about a crucial detail, he was still in his suit.

“Oh no” he muttered

He had some clothes stashed away in your room for these kinds of emergencies but it would look suspicious if he just busted in, changed, and emerged from your room so, he had a plan.

#miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles x reader #miles Morales headcannons #across the spiderverse spoilers #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanart #spiderman #into the spider verse #spiderverse #marvel #MCU fanfiction #i love him #need need NEED #foryou

815 notes · View notes

freestyle-crocodile-trashpile · 6 months

Text

Mama's Boy

Summary: You didn't understand why you felt so bad while at Miles house

Type:Scenario:Angst:Miles Morales & M!Reader

Version: Itsv

I never understood why I felt so horrible at Miles's house. Every time we were there while his parents were home, I felt like crying. I didn't get it. His parents were amazing, really nice, and welcoming, yet they made me feel so bad. I always had a sad look on my face when I left, a strong feeling that made me want to break down right there in tears. Or maybe it was because I had to go home? It never clicked to me. I loved going to his house, and every chance I got, I was over there. Luckily, Miles and I were good friends. His home felt more like home than mine. I didn't get it, I loved my home, it was cozy and nice, I didn't get it. Especially today.

I was over at Miles's house, laughing while playing some video games in his room. I was wining, and he was trying to distract me.

"Admit it Miles! You suck at this game!" I laughed at him.

"No! Your cheating, you dirty cheater!" He practically pouted as he pushed me away with his foot.

I laughed harder and bumped him with my shoulder, causing us to start shoving and pushing each other like brothers. Miles tacked me onto his bed, putting me in a headlock as he gave me a nasty noogie. His mom opened the door and stopped, huffing playfully before chucking

"Boys, get off each other and come eat." She smiled at us before closing the door.

I could feel my smile brighter slightly, Rio always made me feel warm. But not in a love way, in a homey way, like I was truly welcome and wanted there. It was odd. Me and Miles got up and went to the dining room, shoving each other before racing to the table. I got there first and flipped him off as his parents weren't looking. He did it back before we both started to eat. After dinner, Miles and I sat on the couch, just talking to each other his dad walked over.

"Y/n, do you need a ride home? We could drop you off at home if you want" Jefferson smiled at us, his car eyes in hand.

"Oh, no. I can walk, you don't have to drive me" I returned his smile, not wanting him to have to drive me home this late.

"You sure? Its a quick drive" Jefferson looked a alittle worried.

"Yeah, it's a nice walk of fresh air anyways" It made me feel giddy that someone was worried about me.

Jefferson nodded and walked away, not wanting to push anymore. I turned to Miles, and we continued talking for a bit before I went home. It was a peaceful walk, the quiet and chill night drowning out most of my thoughts. I let out a soft sigh as I unlocked the front door and walked in. Immediately, I'm welcomed by my drunk mother and passed out on the couch. This was a normal occurrence. My mother was always drunk and drinking, even when I was younger. It was normal, it's all I knew, when I was born she started drinking again. My mother probably drank while she was pregnant either way. I sighed and locked the front door before walking over to her and drapping a blanket over her. I gently kissed her forehead before mumbling a soft good night and going to bed. The next morning, I woke up to my mother yelling at me from downstairs. When I went downstairs, I almost got hit with a bottle. I was so tired I didn't even hear what she said before storming out the house. I stare at the door, confused before quickly rushing to clean up the glass and going back to bed. I went to Miles house again today, I waved happily and instantly noticed the look of concern on his face

"Y/n? Why is your hand bloody? And your arm" Miles sounded really confused, and worried.

Miles stood up and walked over to me, I narrowed my eyebrows and looked down at my hand, turning it my hand around and gasping. When did this happen?

"I'm not sure..." I was confused, I wasn't fully sure how this happened. Maybe the glass from earlier?

I shrugged, but Mike's gently grabbed my hand and led me to the bathroom and patched me up, cleaned my wounds, and bandaged it skillfully. Probably because his mom was a nurse. The same thing happened today: I messed around with Miles, played video games, talked, ate dinner, and went home. My mom wasn't home. It was quiet in the house, meaning a peaceful night of sleep. The following morning, my mom yelled at me again, hitting me a few times before leaving and making me clean up the kitchen from her. Then I went to Miles house. As I was over there, he looked concerned but didn't say anything, and that day I realized I mainly ate at Miles house, my mother didn't cook much, and I couldn't really order take out, I didn't have the money for it.

I felt it again.

When I was at his house I could feel my heart beat louder in my ears as I watched him hug his mom and say a small I love you before we both left the house to go to the store. I was quiet for a bit. There was a growing pain in my heart, like I had been stabbed or someone tore my heart. I didn't know why. Was it the affection? I never really got affection from my mother. When I got home, my mom was drunk, but awake. And she was pissed. I gulped and tried to sneak by, that didn't work. I slept in pain and paranoid that night. When I went to Miles house he was quiet when he saw me, staring at me with these big eyes of concern. Why? Was there something wrong?

"Y/n...are you okay? You keep coming here with...injuries. " Miles voice was quiet and soft, something I wasn't fully used to. It was filled with so much. Concern.

"Oh, that? Don't worry about it" You didn't want to worry him, when he saw your reassuring smile he gave a small smile back and didn't ask about it.

When you went home today, you finally realized why you hated going home from Miles's house. The first thing you saw was your parents fighting. Your mom was clearly drunk. Your heart sank as you stood in the doorway watching your parents fight. They did this a lot. You sighed and walked by them, mumbling a small hello before going to your room. You wanted to go back to Miles's house, where there was no yelling or fighting there, it's nice at his house. Peaceful, but you have to wait until tomorrow, like always.

[A/n:I'm not sure if I like this or not. I hope you enjoyed]

#spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman x male reader #miles morales #miles x male reader #miles x reader #spiderman itsv

230 notes · View notes

nightowl374art · 8 months

Note

Do you think that there was anything between gwen and hobie? Don't get mad just curious

There was lot between Gwen and Hobie and it’s all platonic. (Some of the best relationships out there are platonic tbh)

They’re good friends in my eyes. Compare Gwen’s relationship with Miles to her relationship with Hobie and you’ll see the differences. Even she said so. From my perspective, the whole crashing in Hobie’s dimension and leaving her sweater and toothbrush at his place, and wearing his chucks thing means literally nothing if you’re just friends with someone. Real friends don’t often feel weird about how comfortable they are with each other, like they’re crossing some imaginary line between friendship and love. I think that’s why Hobie was pretty transparent about their relationship in front of Miles—because there’s no romantic feelings there. Gwen said herself Miles would like Hobie because in her eyes, Hobie is a good friend and she would like Miles to experience that for himself.

And sorry if you didn’t sign up for all of this but if I were diving further…

After Gwen left her dad to join the spider society and she realized it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be (and she couldn’t visit Miles, the one reason she even wanted a dimensional watch) I’ve no doubt she was pretty depressed. I think she needed a friend and she found some refuge in Hobie—she was able to relax around him, have fun with him because he’s laid back (not judgmental) or constantly expecting something of her. It’s obvious Gwen feels weighed down by everyone else’s expectations of her. She’s held to a standard she can’t keep up with. Miguel sees her as a loose cannon, thus never wanting to rely on her. Jess immediately condemns her whenever she makes a mistake and shows little to no understanding. And we all saw what happened with Captain Stacy. Jeff and Rio had certain expectations and made snap judgments when they were not met. Even Miles himself had expectations (rightfully so). But it’s stressful to feel like you can never screw up or let anyone down. That’s a heavy burden for someone to bear alone, especially as a teenage girl who hasn’t really come into herself yet (trying to define who she is in the eyes of others.)

So in my opinion, Hobie was the only comfort Gwen had during her time in the spider society— a good reliable friend she could count on. A fun and helpful companion during their missions together. He gave her a place to stay when she needed it. (If that ain’t friendship I don’t know what is). He’s about the only person she can be completely authentic around because he himself is authentic. Hobie has that kind of rebel/doesn’t-give-a-fuck older sibling that’s already been through it and has gotten to the other side. He won’t let others dictate his worth and he chooses how he wants to live his life. I know Gwen admires that—she’d love to be that kind of person too but she’s not there yet.

Like everyone, Gwen has flaws and Hobie knows that, but he doesn’t use them against her. He chooses instead to see her potential. She was never made to feel like a failure around him. Hobie is an ally to the society rejects, “the outcasts” if you will. Just look how he helped Miles. Not to mention the fact he made Gwen a watch so she could go fix her mistake (again seeing the potential in her). Hobie is always there to give a hand up when people really need it most. People like Hobie are some of the truest friends and I think Gwen is very lucky to have him on her side.

In conclusion, Gwen and Hobie have a solid relationship and it’s something I admire. But I saw absolutely nothing romantic between them.

#spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #thoughts #hobie brown #gwen stacy

243 notes · View notes

theesirenteller · 2 months

Text

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫

Chapter Six ; 𝕱𝖆𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖆 | Masterlist

Epiphany could feel her heart beating rapidly against the base of her eardrums. She almost felt deaf. Her stomach rattled as the bullets shot through Cassius's head. The bullets scattered into his skull and split his flesh open. His blood splattered onto the floor as if he were a pig that had freshly been slaughtered. And when the unpleasant linger of ammonia swept away from her nostrils…she felt nothing. The anxiousness she once felt not even seconds ago had disappeared.

Everyone had to die at some point. Cassius surely had it coming given the amount of times he knocked on death's door with his actions. Epiphany never expected she'd be the one to deliver. The blood he spilled throughout the streets of Los Vegas for fun or for collecting his debts. Or the times when the slaps she laid across his face were met with brutal punches to her face and kicks to her side. But did that dignify his death? Epiphany couldn't be sure. Whatever they had gone through she had chucked it up to 'relationship ups and downs'.

And she had been too into her head to notice Rio visibly relax his tense shoulders. She had chosen him. She had initiated her loyalty and devotion to him. He placed his hand on top of hers and took the gun. "I hurt him…that must've hurt a lot," Rio heard her whisper as he drew himself closer to her body. "He didn't feel anything, mama," Rio assured her. His tall figure crouched down as he wrapped his long around her waist, butt, and legs to lift her into a cradle position in his arms. Epiphany wrapped her arms around his neck, her nose brushed against the edge of his eagle tattoo as she found comfort in his scent. Rio held her tightly in his arms, against his chest. The smoothness of his lips slid across her forehead a moment before he carried her out of the 'room',

The events of being taken out of the tunnels, And then when she was put into Rio's car, and going to his apartment were a blur. It moved just as fast as the blink of Epiphany's eyes. But the moment she had been set down on her feet in his living room, Epiphany looked up into his dark eyes, meeting his piercing yet unreadable gaze with a look of desperation before ravenously kissing his lips. Their bodies began to say what their mouths couldn't. Clothes turned into obstacles and were ripped from one another's bodies. Their tongues plunged deep into the depths of each other's mouths as Epiphany was pinned to the couch. A muffled moan echoed off of Epiphany's lips into Rio's mouth as he thrust inside her. Her hands clung to the back of his toned thighs as he rutted into her over and over again. ❛𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓭-𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓹❜ Epiphany cried and whimpered against his lips with tears prickling down the sides of her face. The warmth of his hands cupping the sides of her face brought on the feeling of safety and comfort.

That night solidified their relationship and Christopher didn't realize how 'rusty' (for lack of a better word) he was when it came to that dynamic. In terms of consistency; He had been doing his own thing for a long time. Came and went when he pleased. He could go off-grid for weeks at a time and then pop back around to whatever woman's home or apartment he was seeing. But being in an exclusive, committed relationship came with responsibilities and Christopher was no stranger to that. He didn't mind when it came to Epiphany, either. He was gentle with her. He was also patient. Christopher took notice of the trauma Epiphany experienced from the initiation of their relationship. The signs would've been inconspicuous to the average male but not to Christopher.

Epiphany had slept over at his apartment for a week straight and every night she would awake beside him in a cold sweat and sit on the floor gazing out the bedroom windows. She slept best cuddled on top of him with him nuzzled inside her. Their shared mornings were quiet unless he'd crack a joke first or hold her hand in his own. The bubbly personality she once possessed was amplified at other times. He often came home to her drenched in sweat dancing in his living room with her headphones on. Her lips painted in a scowl and her eyebrows knitted together. She mounted him like a squirrel climbing a tree, smothering him in affection. Which to Christopher was a double-sided coin of appreciation, something that made him feel like her protector, her world. A sisterly-sweet feeling over the fact that she depended on him emotionally and physically. He couldn't help but smile during the times she would send him text messages throughout the day, checking in on him.

"I think you should meet my kid soon." He announced randomly over lunch at his favorite sushi spot. A slight smirk settled across his lips when Epiphany's big brown eyes widened. "Maybe…my family in general."

"Really?" A beaming-bright smile swept across her lips, "I mean I'd love to, but…are you sure?" A brief look of worry swept across her face. A few thoughts of insecurity swept across her mind. Family was a big deal and Epiphany wasn't certain his family would warm up to her.

"Of Course," Christopher reassured her as he reached his hand across the table and took her hand in his own. Carefully, he raised her hand and placed a kiss against the corner of her hand. He then placed soft kisses against the pads of her fingertips. "It'll be cool, don't sweat it, mama."

His reassurance made her whole face brighten. Epiphany had quickly leaned over the table and placed kisses against the side of his cheek. To which he basked in her affection by cradling the back of her neck with his hand and kissing her lips. The pair settled on the following Saturday, a week before Thanksgiving.

After lunch, Epiphany returned to her apartment and immersed herself in a week's worth of schoolwork which allowed Christopher to tap into the mindset of Rio fully and get back to business. One matter of business in particular he was going to straighten. Beth and the two spinless mice that followed her. Speaking of…The three women were seated in the strip club counting and splitting their weekly profits when Rio and Mick arrived. The men couldn't help but overhear that Epiphany was the subject of conversation. "She hasn't been back and I haven't seen her at our usual Boba spot," Rio and Mick overheard Annie say.

"Good riddance. At Least she was smart enough to do that." Beth added on.

"Ole girl is probably off humping some other thug in magic city," Ruby grunted.

“Damn, what happened to bitches uplifting one another.” Mick commented casually as he and Rio strolled into the back room. He didn't bother holding back his chuckle when the women visibly jumped out of startelement. They didn't utter a reply.

"What's up ladies, you got my cut?" Rio greeted with a chastising smile as he stepped forward.

"Yes, it's all here." Beth was first to speak up as she moved around the table and grabbed one of the duffle bags from one of the lockers. As she made her way over towards him, her blue eyes pierced into his dark brown ones with a wide-eyed gaze. She drank him in with a gaze that read-over as yearning, and burned with desire.

Rio on the other hand looked at her blankly in return as he took the duffle bag from her. His mind and attention elsewhere despite his eyes fixed on her.

"It's light. Real light," Mick said as soon as the bag of money was passed over to him.

Rio's left brow slowly rose up as his head slowly tilted to the side, "And why's that?"

"Business hasn't exactly picked up over the last few friday nights. One of our dancers, Jannie just started doing solos and they haven-"

"Nah, that ain't the truth and we both know that," Rio quickly butted in and cut Beth off. "Every friday night the club was bringing in over 150 gs. Epiphany's solo night and you bitches fucked that up over…"His attention fell back on Beth, only this time with a menacing gaze, "Insignifigance."

Something told Beth that he was talking about her rather than the situation. And if looks could kill…she would be eight feet under in a cold and shallow grave.

"But since my money is something you like to play with…"he trailed off before his lips broke out in a wide smile, "You've got forty-eight hours to make it back." And with that he turned around and started walking towards the exit door."Oh, and double it. For the late fees." Rio called over his shoulder which caused Mick to snicker as both men left.

While Rio had been dealing with the peaky housewives, Epiphany was on the other side of town located in her apartment on facetime with an old friend. More like her second-mother than an old friend, Galinda Torress. A Colombian immigrant who not only was the house mother in the previous club she worked at; The Starlight but also someone who saw Epiphany as just a girl and instantly treated her like a daughter. After all, Epiphany was one thirteen when she started dancing.

"Miera nena, por favor stop checking the fish! Let it cook!" The woman scowled with her broken-bilingual dialect.

Epiphany was no chef. The most she could do was saute black beans, make sunny-side up eggs. Cook rice both steamed and stir fried, and make chicken wings. Enough to feed herself whenever she remembered to within the chaos of studying and working. Taking her free time to perfect a batch of cookies was more of her thing.

"Okay, Sorry!" she quickly apologized with a reddened face.

Per Galinda's advice, she made something that was less intimidating for dinner. Which was; oven grilled red snapper, black bean rice, and salsa. All of it was homemade, salsa included. The whole fish was seasoned with various peppers, lemons, and smoked herbs. Epiphany had soaked her black beans overnight so cooking them in the afternoon took little time and made the broth thicker, richer, and the beans soaked in all of the glorious flavors of the herbs easier. All she did was combine it into the boiled rice that had been set aside and awaiting to be pan-seared.

The honduran dancer's body was drenched in sweat. Her sports bra and bike shorts clung to her like a second skin by the time she was done cooking everything. She couldn't help but let out a sigh in relief when things were done and all she had left to do was get pretty. A loud knock against her metal door echoed throughout her apartment causing Epiphany to rush down the stairs. When she opened it, she was met with a woman and child. Both had bright smiles on their faces but the child held a particular resemblance to somebody Epiphany knew.

“Hi, sorry to impose like this. I'm Rhea and this is Marcus, we thought we'd introduce ourselves and maybe lend you a helping hand before the rest of Chris's family comes over.” The woman introduced with an upbeat tone.

And in that moment Epiphany was shitting bricks. His child, His baby's mother. Two very important people were face to face with her. And although she had been expecting them, she couldn't help but be nervous.

“Chris is my dad!” Marcus said proudly.

“Oh! Hi, yes. Come on in.” She quickly moved aside for them to come in and gestured inside with her waving hand.

The mother and son duo stepped inside with large smiles across their smiles. “I'm Epiphany, but you can call me whatever nickname you can think of though. I don't mind.”

“Epiphany, huh? That’s a nice name.” Rhea complimented.

“Thank you.” Epiphany smiled bashfully, “Would you like something to drink? I’ve got a ton of different juices.” Epiphany's hospitality had been an ice breaker for Rio’s family. She and Rhea had engaged in conversation amongst themselves as Marcus had a blast icing Churro cupcakes. He may have added too many white chocolate chips on top but his mother didn’t notice.

“Yeah, it’s pretty!” Marcus added on.

“Essentially Chris and I broke up because of his lack of compassion. It’s his world and you’re just living in it for the sake of being provided for. He’ll leave for however long and pop back up again with a gift and a smile…for Marcus that’s okay. For me, it wasn’t.” Rhea explained.

“Do you miss him?”Epiphany asked after taking in the information. She had no opinion of what Rhea had told her. If anything, she took note of what the ex-wife had said. Like a warning.

“God no” Rhea laughed with a shake of her head, “The intensity of it all isn’t for me. He takes care of us financially and that’s all I can ask for or want.” She sighs to herself before turning to Epiphany and laying a hand on her shoulder, “Enjoy this, whatever you two have going on. Enjoy it for however long things last.”

Epiphany couldn’t be sure if there was a slight bit of shade thrown in her warning or if it was Rhea’s blessing and a warning wrapped in one package. Either way, the dancer took heed to it. She had only gotten a glimpse of Rio’s intensive nature. More like a front row seat than a glimpse and oddly enough she liked. Liked was a word that dulled down how he made her feel. Captivated was a better word. As time passed on, Epiphany had gotten a chance into more appropriate clothing. Which consisted of a turquoise blue button-down top; that she tucked into a high waisted black mini skirt. Baby blue fur-trimmed kitten heels adorned her feet.

Continuous knocks soon started to beat on the door. Various members of Rio’s family started to show from his female cousins and their children and few male cousins. As her apartment started to fill up, Epiphany grew impatient. Most of the people there engaged with Rhea and Marcus despite their curiosity toward Epiphany. In all actuality they were waiting for Christopher to arrive. A large brute with a full beard and frumpy build had joined Epiphany by the door.

“He loves to em’ waiting.” The man commented.

“Hm?” Epiphany raised her left eyebrow.

“Oh sorry,” He smiled while extending his hand out,”I’m Nick. His brother.”

‘He has a brother? Huh, Rio definitely doesn’t give off younger brother vibes’ Epiphany thought to herself as she shook Nick’s hand.

“I’m Epiphany, nice to meet you Nick.”

“You’re his girlfriend?” Nick asked just as a knock was placed on the front door. But it came off as more-so condescending.

“We’ll see.” Epiphany smirked as she proceeded to open the door.

The smirk was soon wiped off her face and her breath was taken away the moment she came face to face with Christopher. The effect he had on her was juvenile at this point. She left like person who had seen the sun set for the first time.

“Sorry I’m late, had to-” Chirstopher started but was cut off by the older woman beside him.

“He ran late to pick me up which resulted in both of us missing out on all the fun.” The older woman commented, “I’m his grandma, Rosa.”

“When isn’t he late.” Nick laughed.

“Oh um it’s okay, you didn’t miss anything.” Epiphany replied as she stepped aside. She didn’t miss the icy glare that Christopher sent Nick’s way. “I’m Epiphany by the way.”

Luckily for Nick, he was called by his wife which caused him to leave the group.

“You're very pretty Epiphany, you have a lovely home as well.” Rosa commented, “If you don’t mind asking how old are you? You’ve clearly accomplished a lot.” Once everyone had been seated at the dinner table. Their plates filled with savory food.

“Thank you, I’m twenty-two. I have my dance career to thank for all this.” Epiphany replied.

“Dance career? Is that what they call stripping nowadays?” Nick obnoxiously asked.

“What’s stripping, dad?” One of Nick’s sons asked.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink bro, You ain’t as young as you used to be.” Rio’s arm draped across the back of Epiphany’s chair as he chastised Nick.

For a brief moment Epiphany wondered how Nick knew of her occupation. But then possibilities were honestly endless. He could’ve been at the club a few times. But she felt like she would’ve recognized him. Or maybe it was the way she carried herself. Or how she dressed. She honestly couldn’t be too sure. But she began to feel insecure.

“Enough.” The men’s grandmother ordered which had shut them up. Her attention then turned towards Epiphany and she offered her a warm smile, “Dancing is such a beautiful art. You clearly must be great at it girl given how well you’re doing for yourself and…” her eyes drifted over to Christopher, “My boy here does love beauty.”

“Me too grandma!” Marcus butted in gleefully. Everyone around the table had shared a laugh.

Epiphany hadn’t experienced the feeling of maternal love; but it radiated off of Christopher’s grandmother. Giving her a sense of comfort that calmed her budding nerves. That, and Christopher’s arm warmly draped around her neck; his lips pressed firmly to cheek. An act of affection and reassurance.

Thanks to Christopher and his grandmother, the dinner went smoothly. Surprisingly filled with relaxed conversation with topics ranging from politics, family values, and food. It wasn’t until dinner had ended and the women had been sharing wine in the kitchen, that the real conversation was had.

“You worked for the gringa?!” One of Christopher’s female cousins, Lana said. Absolutely flabbergasted.

“The soccer mom?” Rhea cringed.

“Is she even a mother anymore?” Rosa muttered.

Epiphany laughed after sipping her wine”The thing is I had been working for her as a favor to her little sister Annie. Annie and I had been friends for about three months prior. I was looking for a part-time job and Annie said her sister’s club could use what I had to offer to bring in more profits. and they were offering 30% ownership which had appealed to me.” Epiphany explained.

“The soccer mom owns a strip club with her group of friends? The council woman? Tuh, crazy times we live in,” Christopher’s grandmother, Rosa scoffed.

“That nutcase doesn’t know who she wants to be; I call it the menopause identity crisis.” Rhea said, whilst rolling her eyes.

“I knew the minute my boy brought her over that she wasn’t what she made herself out to be. I won’t say I thought she was bad or indecent, but Beth was something she wasn’t happy with. A married housewife who wanted independence. Maybe a sense of power and someone who had more…’seasoning’ for lack of a better word,” Grandmother Rosa stated.

Both Rhea and cousin Lana agreed with a nod of their heads.

“How did you feel about She and Christopher being an Item?” Epiphany asked after taking the information in.

“A work fling at best,” Grandmother Rosa commented.

She knew that Annie said Beth and Rio hadn’t been exclusive, ever. But, she wanted to hear information from the otherside. The laughter shared between the women in Christopher’s family was nothing less than shady.

Despite what Rosa said Epiphany couldn’t shake the feeling that lingered in the back of her mind. The feeling that maybe she wasn’t as special to Christopher as she thought she was. The fact that Beth had met his family made her feel some discomfort. Even if Christopher hadn’t been in a relationship with the councilwoman.

“You’re bringing us the content; who needs a TV?” Lana replied.

Unbeknownst to the group, Christopher had been lingering in the shadows outside of the kitchen. He remained quiet for a few moments longer before walking inside. His hand laid on Epiphany’s shoulder with a firm squeeze. “I’m gonna steal her away for a minute. You ladies can get back to your telenovela later.”

“I’ll take a refill in the meantime.” Grandmother Rosa commented.

“Same here.” Rhea agreed.

Christopher smirked and shook his head in response.

Epiphany had stood up and excused herself before walking alongside Christopher to the hall. He had grasped her hand within his and began leading Epiphany upstairs to her bedroom. He had waited until the door was closed and they were standing in the middle of the bedroom. His hand never moved from the lower half of her back.

“You were eavesdropping.” Epiphany commented.

“You weren’t being quiet.” Christopher replied.

She proceeded to look up at him with her big brown eyes and her arms crossed against her waist. Her hands are hugging at her sides. “If it was just business between you and Beth then why did you let her meet your family? I don't wanna be some chest piece in whatever game the both of you have going on.”

Epiphany felt naked at this moment. Vulnerable. She felt so many emotions. And instead of wearing her heart on her sleeve. She wore it on her body entirely. Her eyes held every emotion she was feeling. Raw with the surface layers of skin scraped away.

Christopher on the other hand was calm. Cool, Calm, and Collected. His neck craned down as he towered over her. His thick-bushy eyebrows slightly cocked with the center of his forehead creased. “You’re mine and I’m yours. No Games, not this time. Not with you.”

He hadn’t touched her but Epiphany felt his comfort.

Her bottom lip slightly quivered as she looked into his eyes. Searching for any trace of a lie; she found none. Epiphany didn’t know what it was exactly about Rio that made her feel both nervous yet protected. She knew there were many layers to him that she had yet to uncover. And each time he let her in a little closer, it made her feel reassured that he wanted her entirely.

Maybe he would be the person to want her without malice. To see her.

The way Epiphany had looked at him made Christopher feel wanted. Wanted in way that wasn’t malicious or superficial. Unbeknownst to her and he would keep it that way.

#theesirenteller fanfic #rio; dealer fanfic #theesirentellerstories #fuck beth boland #theesirenteller characters #rio good girls #good girls nbc #manny mayans fanfic #manny montana fic #manny montana fanfiction #manny montana

73 notes · View notes