Work Text:
Author: Lucinda
Rated k, safe for all ages
Disclaimer: Erik belongs to Marvel.
Distribution: WWoMB, Mental Wanderings, Twisting.
Notes: a bit of silliness.
Carefully, he pulled out the faded jacket, sliding it over a shirt worn soft and thin from the passing of years. The clothing wasn’t too different from himself in that regard, except that while his flesh had grown weaker, his will and spirit were strong. His power had grown stronger still, able to do amazing things. Terrible things. But for this, he would need to conceal all of that, keep his power hidden, tuck the pain behind wall. For this to work, he must look like nothing more than a harmless old man.
Old he might be, but not harmless.
He also wanted to appear like someone old, uninteresting, and unmemorable. Partly so that he could accomplish this current plan, and partly so that nobody would recognize him. This was his secret vice, a pleasure that he didn’t want anyone to discover. The shame of it would be unbearable.
After a few moments, he decided to leave the hat behind, and he slipped out of his base. For this, he couldn’t be Magneto, only Erik. Just another harmless old man. He could feel the weight of the wallet in his pocket as he walked along the street, eyes scanning for someone who could supply him with what he wanted.
After a while, he spotted someone who would be able to supply him with his vice. The table sat in front of the building, with two women in their thirties, each with a young girl sitting beside them. There were heaps on the table, colorful stacks of boxes with their evil, tempting words and pictures. Samoas. Tagalongs. Trefoils. Thin Mints. Do-Si-Dos.
“Can I have two boxes of the Samoas and one of the Trefoils, please?” He managed to keep his voice calm and level.
“Of course,” one of the evil women smiled at him, assembling the brightly colored boxes. “That will be nine dollars.”
Erik counted the money out from his wallet, accepting the boxes in exchange. They would be gone too soon, they always were, but for now, he had them. He had the cookies.
Chuckling, he began walking back to his home. Tonight would be sweet.
End Erik’s Vice.