An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 7/7
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Erik Killmonger/Tony Stark
Characters: Tony Stark, Erik Killmonger, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Scott Lang, T'Challa (Marvel), Shuri (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff, Carol Danvers, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Hope Van Dyne, Eddie Brock, Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, Laura Barton, Pepper Potts, Stephen Strange, James "Bucky" Barnes, Everett Ross
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-AU Civil War, Post-AU Black Panther, Not Canon Compliant, Timeline fuckery at its finest, Team Iron Man, Not Team Captain America Friendly, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Not Wanda Maximoff Friendly, Golden Tribe protects its own, Protective Erik Killmonger, Protective T’Challa, Military Spouse support group, Tyrant knows fuckall about military spouse support groups ya’ll, rarepair let’s go, seriously why are there so few of these, Natasha Romanov Redemption, Clint Barton Redemption, Sam Wilson Redemption (Marvel)
Series: Part 2 of Starkmonger Literary Universe
Summary:
** and Husbands (Honorary Wives)
When the Avengers return home to the HEROES Compound, it's to a whole new status quo. Their only chance to return things to normal is to talk to Tony, but he's suddenly a hard man to find. Blockaded by his "new team" and FRIDAY, Stark's AI, Steve Rogers and his team are stuck trying to find the perfect point to meet with Tony in private. When they realize that Tony has some unknown standing appointment on Thursdays, their concern is renewed -- when Tony works alone, things have a habit of going wrong. Where is he going, what is he doing, and will this give them the chance they need to finally talk to the man?
And just like that, after a year and a halfish and 63,000 words, Tired Wives** Support Group is done. This has been such a labor of love, and I’m so very happy with where it ended. Can’t wait for the next parts, although I will be shifting gears to focus on the Harry Potter rewrite and an original project first.
Thank you all for following, for liking and bookmarking and kudoing and COMMENTING. I hope this finish is satisfying for all of you.
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Erik Killmonger & Ramonda, Erik Killmonger & Shuri, Erik Killmonger & T'Challa, Erik Killmonger/Tony Stark, Erik Killmonger & Erik Killmonger's Mother
Characters: Erik Killmonger, Erik Killmonger's Mother, Ramonda (Marvel), Shuri (Marvel), T'Challa (Marvel), W'Kabi (Marvel), Okoye (Marvel)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Erik Killmonger/Tony Stark (background), Golden Tribe is a family (but family is complicated), Erik Killmonger's Mother deserves more screentime, POV Erik Killmonger, Erik Killmonger Grows Up in Wakanda, Light Angst, Grief/Mourning, Erik Killmonger is Enhanced (and then Enhanced again), Starkmonger Honorable Mention but Tony is not in this fic because their Canon Reunion happens in approx 2 years, and by canon we mean Tyrant's specific Starkmonger Literary Universe
Series: Part 1 of Starkmonger Literary Universe
Summary:
Miles away, buried beneath Mount Bashenga, his cousins were together in Shuri's lab. One dying, one desperately trying to stop time so that her brother did not succumb to Death's grasping hand.
And he was here, stumbling after his Auntie as they slunk further into the sacred city. The shaman and his attendants were long gone; Zuri was a war dog and warrior first and a shaman second. When the tribes turned on each other, when T'Challa had been gored through by the horn of his best friend's rhino, Zuri had locked down the Necropolis and directed his attendants to defend their home.
If he knew what they were doing, he'd probably spear Erik through himself.
----
In the summer of 2016, while Wakanda tore itself apart in a Civil War begun by the Border Tribe in protest of the Golden Tribe's inability to apprehend and then execute the criminal Ulysses Klaue, Queen Ramonda assisted Erik Killmonger in taking in the heart-shaped herb to stand in as Wakanda's defender while their king, miles away in the safety of Shuri's lab, fought for his life.
This is his Trial. This is his burden. This is the birth of the Golden Jaguar.
Hey i’m a fashion design student so i have tons and tons of pdfs and docs with basic sewing techniques, pattern how-tos, and resources for fabric and trims. I’ve compiled it all into a shareable folder for anyone who wants to look into sewing and making their own clothing. I’ll be adding to this folder whenever i come across new resources
Updated just now with new hand sewing resources (mainly buttonholes) and textbook pdfs on fashion history, fashion illustration, and thinking through designs!
calling all fans of Erika Ishii and Worlds Beyond Number!
It was just announced that Erika is going to be in a new fiction podcast called Phantom Pulse — a music filled audio drama set in the late 90s about a band who goes on tour (and also fights ghosts).
Erika Ishii is playing one of the bandmates, the bassist Cal.
While the whole cast has been confirmed, the show still needs to be funded and the kickstarter for it opened up today. Even if you can’t support financially, spreading the word and following @phantompulseband would be a big help.
“Cienna, why are u shilling for this?” I hear you asking. The answer is simple: @atypicalartists is my favorite audio drama producer and they are working with Erika Ishii, one of my favorite actors/personal celebrity crush. I need this show to be made to fuel my insanity about both.
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I'm actively working on the last chapter of Tired Wives** Support Group (now that it got another chapter...) but reading @not-close-to-straight's new Spideypool and being reminded how fucking good they describe Deadpool and Spider-Man's mutations and how it affects them, not just how it benefits them but how it hurts sometimes to be More to be Different to be Extra in a world where you might be a hero but you're still a freak has me in a fucking chokehold
So I guess I'm also writing Erik taking the heart shaped herb while his cousin is dying in a lab because Someone's gotta protect Wakanda and evidently that's fucking him
But he's already More Extra Different A Freak, and the heart-shaped herb, the blessing of Bast, gives her chosen champions even more, so how does that feel? How does it feel to be pushed even further when he already has to wear earbuds so he doesn't hear people shouting five blocks away and gunfire doesn't blow out his fucking hearing? How does it feel to wake up after you're sure, you're sure you're going to die because there's no goddamn way Bast is going to give you what she gave her champions, only for the world to be
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 6/7
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Erik Killmonger/Tony Stark
Characters: Tony Stark, Erik Killmonger, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Scott Lang, T'Challa (Marvel), Shuri (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff, Carol Danvers, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Hope Van Dyne, Eddie Brock, Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, Laura Barton, Pepper Potts, Stephen Strange, James "Bucky" Barnes, Everett Ross
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-AU Civil War, Post-AU Black Panther, Not Canon Compliant, Timeline fuckery at its finest, Team Iron Man, Not Team Captain America Friendly, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Not Wanda Maximoff Friendly, Golden Tribe protects its own, Protective Erik Killmonger, Protective T’Challa, Military Spouse support group, Tyrant knows fuckall about military spouse support groups ya’ll, rarepair let’s go, seriously why are there so few of these, Natasha Romanov Redemption, Clint Barton Redemption, Sam Wilson Redemption (Marvel)
Summary:
** and Husbands (Honorary Wives)
When the Avengers return home to the HEROES Compound, it's to a whole new status quo. Their only chance to return things to normal is to talk to Tony, but he's suddenly a hard man to find. Blockaded by his "new team" and FRIDAY, Stark's AI, Steve Rogers and his team are stuck trying to find the perfect point to meet with Tony in private. When they realize that Tony has some unknown standing appointment on Thursdays, their concern is renewed -- when Tony works alone, things have a habit of going wrong. Where is he going, what is he doing, and will this give them the chance they need to finally talk to the man?
It’s been a minute, but here we go! I’ve decided to split the “end” chapter into two (how very Hollywood of me), so this is mostly a weekend interlude with the Stevens-Stark family, with some minor Rogue nonsense. Next chapter will be the big finish, and I’m outlining that now as part of my Creative Writing Month. Fingers crossed it won’t take me all month to finish!
Is there such a thing as too soft? Not in my book, these fuckers deserve Nice Things and Soft Touches and they're gonna get it.
"Should we move back to the Tower? Bring 'em here for family night or whatever the fuck?" Tony's shoulders slumped a little. It sounded perfect, but…
"They already stalked me into the city once." Tony muttered, reaching up to curl a hand around Erik's wrist. Not to dislodge the hand still holding his jaw, just as a point of contact, his thumb rubbing against the vein that pulsed slightly under his grip. "They'll just get worse. Rogers'll take it personally, he'll drag everyone out here to make me talk to him."
"I don't give a shit about Rogers or the Rogues." Erik said bluntly, snorting a little. "Let 'em show up. I'll toss they asses off the balcony. If FRI even lets 'em get up here."
"Unauthorized access to the penthouse will be dealt with in escalating security measures, boss." FRIDAY chirped from above them, drawing a chuckle out of Tony and a smile from Erik.
"See?" Erik smiled a little, eying Tony. "Baby, fuck them. Fuck their feelings. Fuck whatever the hell's up Rogers's ass. I don't give a shit 'bout them. I give a shit 'bout you, and 'bout how tired you look." He grumbled a little. "You shouldn't be fuckin' scared in your house. I ain't gonna let that shit fly. You wanna go back, we'll go back, but you ain't gettin' cornered by that self-righteous prick again."
Tony smiled tiredly, and nodded a little, turning his head some to kiss Erik's palm. "I don't want to hide from them." He muttered. "Coming back is just hiding, and… I don't want them to think, for a second, they can scare me out of my place in the Compound."
"A'ight." Erik nodded. His hand slid from Tony's jaw to the back of his neck, drawing him in, and he pressed a kiss to his forehead, then the top of his head when Tony ducked down and dropped his head against his chest. "I got'chu. They try anythin', they're gonna learn." He snorted, rubbing Tony's back with his other hand. It was easy, then, to just settle on the bar stool with Tony between his legs, hugging his husband, breathing him in as Tony melted into the embrace.
Was it the way he wanted to come home? Nah. But he was home now, and there was business to handle come Monday.
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ya'll can pry soft family-man erik killmonger stevens out of my cold dead hands (spoiler for ch6 below)
Tony eyed Peter, whose head had lolled slightly when Erik moved but didn't dislodge. His mouth was open as he slept, little wheezing breaths escaping that twisted something in Tony's chest. "Should put him to bed."
"Yeah…" Erik pocketed his phone with a soft exhale, shifting some without dislodging the boy. "He was real excited to get me caught up on Star Wars." His lip twitched. "Crashed halfway through Force Awakens." Erik glanced up, eying Tony, and in the dim light his eyes gleamed gold for a split second. Tony grinned.
"You need help?" He asked, nodding to Peter.
"Nah, I got 'im." Erik sat forward and scooped Peter up into his lap before he stood, shifting the weight of the boy in his arms. Peter jerked, half-awake and panicked as he clung to Erik's shirt.
"Wha—"
"Shh, s'alright." Erik soothed, shifting his arms around him and starting around the couch. "Just takin' you to bed, nyana." He rumbled, low and gentle, and chuckled when Peter hummed tiredly, tucked his head back against Erik's throat, and clung to him like a koala. Tony grinned stupidly at the sight, trailing behind Erik as he led the way to Peter's room.
"I hope you're catchin' this, Fri." He muttered, watching the two of them from the doorway with a smile. Erik carried Peter to his bed, leaning one knee on it to deposit the boy mostly in the middle, and froze. Tony's smile slipped from soft and loving to devious and entertained.
"… Shit." Tony snorted a laugh. Erik turned to glare a little at him, caught half-kneeling over their son, who had his fingers tangled in Erik's shirt, sticking to him like the boy stuck to walls. "Baby, you gonna help, or you gonna stand there and laugh at me?" He grumbled. He hadn't forgotten his son's mutation, no— he just.
do you know what's really annoying? when advice you huff and puff about turns out to be fuckin right.
"just start writing even if its only 10 words and it'll come to you"
are you telling me after 5 months of procrastination "only 10 words" unlocked something feral in me and now chapter 6 of TWSG is at 1.8k words for SCENE ONE? damn it.
I guess tl;dr just write guys, 10 words is better than no words and you may awaken the feral writing gremlin that lives inside you too.
you are always ALWAYS welcome to come into my inbox and start talking about aus and headcanons
i don’t care if i’ve never talked to you before
if you just randomly show up in my inbox and start yelling about ideas for headcanons/fics/aus i will immediately start yelling right back at you about said headcanon/fic/au
I am sometimes fucking dogshit at responding but I SWEAR if you do this I will see it and make a goddamn effort to bark back at you I PROMISE f e e d m e
I've been trying to get back into the active habit of writing again, after several weeks of struggling to find inspiration, time, etc. Turning my attention to unfinished fics (TWSG, Empty Throne) feels daunting, so I decided to take a look at a running list of "fanfic ideas" of things that, feasibly, should be shorter and (I hope) will jumpstart my writing bug again.
I have no earthly idea where this idea came from, but it did, and I am having fun thusfar with the idea. Not gonna tag the pairing planned, have fun guessing.
The portrait of Luciana the Lustrous banged against the doorway to the Eighth Year Common Room, a temporary space set up to provide something resembling an open, neutral area for convalescence after the taxing classes, apprenticeships, and other responsibilities of the few students who had returned to Hogwarts to finish their education following the end of the last Dark War.
It had taken almost a full year for the school to be repaired sufficiently for the safety of its incoming students, even with the Ministry’s backing. The Ministry had, with some cajoling, pushed forward a system to allow students to stay caught up, so when they did return, there was no confusion on where exactly they sat in the year ranking.
Except the Eighth Years, of course, most of whom were now nineteen and slowly picking their way through what a post-war world, a post-war life, looked like.
Nonetheless. The Portrait of Luciana the Lustrous banged against the doorway into the Eighth Year Common Room, and from plush seats by one of the rounded windows, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger looked up. Ron sat forward in his seat, chess board forgotten, with a grin. “Mate, there you are! Isn’t it pushing curfew a bit, stumbling in now?”
Harry Potter scowled at his best friends as he tripped on the edge of the doorway, making his way to their chairs and plopping down on the arm of Hermione’s.
“Well?” Hermione looked up with her own teasing smile, one eyebrow raised at the petulant look on Harry’s face. “How did it go?”
“He’s a menace.” Harry groaned, slumping against the back of the chair and thumping his head against it. “He’s going to bloody kill me. That’s his grand plan. He’s gonna embarrass me in public to death, and then use me for potion ingredients or something, the git.”
Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance, Hermione much better at hiding her smile than Ron, who looked crossed between laughing at his best mate and obligatory disgust at his partner.
“Well, what’d he do?” Hermione asked, turning to look up at Harry.
Harry just grumbled more under his breath, slumping where he sat on the arm of the chair and crossing his arms.
“Mate, it can’t’ve been that bad, can it?” Ron snorted. “You’re in one piece!”
“He’s–” Harry scowled. “I don’t know how he did it. But he did.”
“Did what, Harry, for God’s sake!” Hermione whacked her paperback on his leg sharply, ignoring the automatic yelp.
“....He found out about it.” Harry muttered, sinking further and looking around surreptitiously, as if someone were listening in. Years of being in the public eye had made Harry more or less accept that he’d always be watched, but this… This wasn’t something he wanted to get out. Thank Merlin the Eighth Years were separated from the Seventh Years, or Ginny’d have locked onto him immediately.
“It?” Hermione looked at Ron, frowning. Ron just shrugged, brow furrowed as he eyed his friend. There was a tension that caught Ron’s attention – whatever it was, Harry didn’t want anyone to know about it. But they knew everything about each other. What on Earth…
“Y’know.” Harry grouched. Ron’s brow furrowed further. So it was something they should know, then. A look from Hermione had him shaking his head a bit, and they both eyed Harry, Hermione confused and Ron befuddled. Harry groaned at both of them, rubbing his face. “The… The thing. The thing Gin used to do.”
“Mate, I don’t want to know what you and my sister–” Ron cut off, blinking, and felt his ears burn in second-hand embarrassment. Oh. “... Oh.”
Ron sucked in a breath, trying not to grin at how put out Harry looked at having to explain himself. “The names, ‘Mione.”
“The– Oh. Ohhh…” Hermione looked up at Harry again, mouth dropped open, a bit in awe. “He called you– What did he call you?” She grinned slowly at the blush that slowly burned on Harry’s face, and whacked him again with the edge of her book. “Come on! What’d he say?”
Harry reached out to snatch the book from Hermione, scowling, and tossed it onto the table. Ron sat back, entertained, because it didn’t really matter to him what the git said. What mattered was that he did, and this was going to be just as fun to watch as when Ginny had figured it out.
“... He called me darling.” Harry grumbled finally, face burning as Hermione broke into peals of laughter, hugging onto Harry to keep him toppling off the chair. “It’s not funny!”
“It’s a bit funny, mate.” Ron grinned, unrepentant, and ducked his head when Harry threw Hermione’s book at his head.
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You can also TEXT "START" to 678-678 or go to their website! There are 700+ of you following me. You don't need to be from the US to reblog this. Reblog.
