#NATM fanfiction

[nani2tact]

The other happy meal is definitely for octavios

[allmyocsarebritish]

A passion for exploration

(Known in my notes as ahkaeology)

Pairing: Ahkmenrah X reader

Warnings(?): Grave robbing

A/N: okay okay I know it's really odd that a wednesday blog is now posting for natm but I went down a rabbit hole and I'm afraid I lost the entrance. History nerd has shown through well and truly :')

Also my first multi part fic :D

Title is courtesy of my mate Abi using AI

Ch 1

Grave robbing

Was desecrating the tombs of these once honoured, omnipotent kings of Egypt really something you were willing to do? Had the circumstances preceding the grave robbery been less bleak, the answer would have undoubtedly been an definitive no. These rulers commanded the uptmost respect in life, and here you were, excavating the only memory that remained. There wasn't a day that went by during your expedition in which guilt did not infiltrate your mind, suffocating your conscience and depriving you of any sleep, even before you came close to finding an ancient tomb. But it wasn't like you had any other choice.

Pushing down your gnawing feelings of dread, you trekked on through the Egyptian desert. Rough sand brushed against your lower legs beneath your simple, calf-length skirt, chafing at the skin. You were the only one of the troupe resigned to walking, as the youngest and the lowest class. Astride camels, the two men had a better view of the surrounding plains, though the blank, barren flats stretched on long beyond the horizon.

"The valley of the kings shan't be too far from this place" called Lord Carnarvon, map still in hand.

You held back a scoff, rolling your eyes as you knew he wasn't looking at you. If only he would admit none of you knew where you were going. The only clue you were given was that the gold rich landmark was announced by a grand pyramid at the end of a hollowed valley consisting of a multitude of others. What a shame that this was the Egyptian desert.

Filled with pyramids.

Days and days stretched on of travel, and eventually, you stopped counting the sunrises, resigning to the fact that this would only stop when the valley was found, however long that took.

As with most great things, the discovery of the valley occurred at a time when you least expected. You had taken advantage of a small oasis, resting for a few hours and permitting the camels an indulgent drink. Howard Carter dozed beside you, hat pulled low over his face, in order to shield his resting eyes from the blazing fire of the sun. Carnarvon had taken his liberty and ran off, or so you had hoped. No, in fact he was continuing the investigation alone and on foot, clutching a worn, shoddy map, which was twinged a grimey brown with years of filth accumulated around the edges of the paper. He never strayed far, though attempted to work out his bearings, using the wind or some pretentious bullshit you never bothered listening to. No, you were perfectly content drawing in the sand with a stick you had found and claimed an hour or so prior.

You were more than unimpressed when the sketches you had so tediously etched into the sand were scattered by Carnarvon sprinting back to the small camp. Jolted awake, Carter sat up sharply, alarm etched across his features.

"Blimey, good sir! You gave me quite the fright!" He exclaimed as you nodded in agreement.

"Are you alright?" You asked, though your eyes may have given away your disinterest (had either man been paying an ounce of attention).

"Shh!" Carnarvon interrupted your pleasant concern, to which you rolled your eyes and began attempting to recover your drawings. "Carter, good sir! I dare say I've found it. I've discovered the pyramid!"

A bold statement, and not the first time either. No, twice prior you had been dragged into the colossal ancient skyscrapers, only to find they were far from your true destination. Empty of any treasure or historical worth beyond the buildings themselves, you continued on, fruitless. Grand structures were quite an obvious goldmine, and previous grave robbers had left the tombs void of, well, anything.

Though of course, it was more than worth it to explore this fresh discovery, not taking any chances.

Time was of the essence, or so you were told. Camels saddled up in record time, you were hoisted up from your seat on the floor by Carter, borderline dragged up.

"Come, young Y/N, you heard his lordship. We may have found the Valley. Hurry on, now" his words were gentle, still treating you as he had done in your childhood, despite the fact you were now 19. It was something that you both appreciated and hated simultaneously. Howard was kind to you, much more so than Lord Carnarvon, who cared as little for you as you did for him. The mutual disinterested made for some long, awkward silences, and many threats to leave you in an unknown grave.

Still dragging you by the arm, Carter began to untie his camel, before finally letting go of you. The rush was honestly needless, you had been expeditioning for months at the least, what harm would a few mere minutes cause? But the men were adamant, and there was no arguing, especially not from a useless child as yourself.

"Can I at least keep my stick?"

Recieving no reply from Carnarvon and an incredulous stare from Carter, you concluded the answer was yes.

The journey from the oasis to the pyramid was shorter than anticipated, though still rather long. Another day passed, spent entirely wandering through the desert. Exhaustion washed over your entire body, and it was a war every minute to keep your eyes open. But, alas, you must continue, and eventually your trek drew to a close as with further examination, it became clear this pyramid was not what you were searching for.

Disappointment and rage filled Carnarvon upon the realisation that this was, in fact, not the Valley of the Gates of the Kings, but rather a singular, sandy pyramid. "Why, there must be some mistake!" He complained impetuantly, always one to shift blame elsewhere. You exchanged a look with Carter, who for once was willing to admit the incompetence of the troupe's leader. After all, what were the chances that a random pyramid would mark the infamous, esteemed valley?

From a distance it appeared mighty, though in fact that was more than likely a mirage caused by the monochromatic nature if the desert. Upon further examination, however, the pyramid was far from the grandeur anticipated by Carnarvon and Carter. Huge gashes and rifts in the brickwork jumped out from metres away. Crumbling brickwork was cratered, resembling a sponge with many holes, as dusty gravel avalanched down the sides of the architecture at every other interval. Overall it was worn and aged, therefore more likely to be looted and barren.

"I do say it's worth taking a look around, my lord." You spoke, addressing him clearly. Carnarvon waved his hand dismissively, wishing you out of his presence.

"Yes, yes. Go ahead child." Did you expect that? No. Did you need to be told twice? Also no. A small grin gracing your features, you took off into the pyramid.

Racing across the gravely surface of the desert, the sand provided a slight level of resistance. Nevertheless, you persevered onwards, stride refusing to falter. Basking in the glorious heat of the warm Egyptian sun's rays casting down on your face, you closed your eyes as you ran, chin tilted upwards. Naturally, this obscured your vision, rendering you blind, and therefore leading you to miss the gaping hole in the ground.

A short squeala of surprise passed your lips as you suddenly found yourself unexpectedly falling through the earth. The drop was rather long, and you landed in a heap on the floor of the dugout with a large thud. You weren't aware of how long you were unconscious, but judging by the severe lack of any source of light, sunset had passed. Pain shot through your body, coarsing through your veins and ricocheting off each of your bones in turn. Head pounding, you groaned slightly, trying to work out what in the hell just happened to you.

Darkness continued to fill the room, prompting you to fish within one of your pockets, pulling out a match and striking it aflame. The hidden chamber was large, that much you could tell even despite the dim lighting. Blinking twice as you began to, very slightly, register your surroundings, you noticed the sheer obscurity of this interior. You'd heard of the saying 'paintings that seemed to follow you around the room', but this gave a new meaning to those words.

No, wait.

Those paintings were moving, and not metaphorically. Eyes widening, you began to notice everything in the tomb writhing like a cluster of cobras. Onyx black cats prowled upon shelves, worn linen bandages slowly unfurling from being bound around each of their limbs. Animated drawings of men, deities and horses alike moved naturally, as though it were a perfectly normal occurrence. Shabti servants, the colour of oxidised copper and ranging from 5-30cm tall formed an army scattered throughout the tomb. Then, slowly, as though delaying the inevitable, your eyes trained upon it.

The sarcophagus.

Shuffling away rapidly, your back hit the decrepit wall of the hidden grave. The embodiment of terror plastered over your face, you watched in horror as the coffin began to violently shake. Your blood ran cold as bangs from the inside began to echo across the acoustic chamber. The rusted hinges were worn and flimsy, and the bolts began to unscrew from their holdings. Padlocks had become frail with ages and popped open, one almost smacking you square in the forehead, to which you responded with a short yelp. For a moment, all movement ceased, as though whatever was inside had begun to listen to the intruder in their grave. You took liberty of the fleeting moment, and began to craft a way out. The quiet was short lived, however, as, with one final, mighty heave, the final lock was broken.

The sarcophagus had been opened.

Your breath caught in your throat, the air thick and suffocating as you watched a wrapped hand emerge from the tomb. The coffin lid was ajar, though it didn't take much pushing to be removed almost entirely. Almost at once, the creatures residing in the grave marched forward, crowding their newly awoken master. Hidden in the shadows, you froze, hoping to remain unseen and ignored, and thus leaving unscathed. Soon enough Carter and Carnarvon were bound to find you?

Right?

A huge open grave couldn't be subtle, you only missed it as you eyes were closed. A stupid decision really, and you mentally cursed yourself.

You remained rooted to the spot on the freezing floor, as the reanimated corpse continued to rise from its grave. Surely this was an affect of your concussion; for all you knew this was just an unconscious dream. Besides, with all the travel in the desert, dehydration had undoubtedly left you delirious. It was at that split second of slight relaxation (if you could call it that) in which you spied the piles of treasure sloping at every corner of the tomb. What could you say - you were a grave robber. Carnarvon would be so proud - if you returned alive that was.

It began to claw at the ancient, frayed linen covering its face, causing your heart to race: it thumped so hard you swore you'd be given away. Praying you didn't go into cardiac arrest, you continued staring bug-eyed as the bandages unfurled in front of you, like the dramatic unveiling of an innovative new invention. Closing your eyes for the second time that day, you winced, raising your arms to shield your face from the horrors you were undoubtedly about to witness. Bile rose in your throat as your mouth drew dry. Images of rancid, rotting flesh peeling off bones flashed through your mind, prompting your whole body to tremble.

'I'm just delirious. Any moment now I'll open my eyes to be met with a chamber of riches.' You thought to yourself. Awoken mummies were the stuff of fairytales, and despite what Carnarvon and Carter believed, you were most certainly not a child.

Your internal monologue was cut short however, interrupted by the gentlest of touches placed on your arm. It prompted you to flinch away instantaneously, a soft whimper escaping. Eyes shooting open, you came face to face with the pharoah himself. And he was not what you had anticipated.

He wasn't the scary mummy you were expecting, he was a teenage kid.

Kind, cerulean eyes rimmed with a smoky black eyeliner stared into your own, azure oceans plagued with concern. Concern for you. Such a colour must have been pricelessly rare, sapphires amongst stones.

His golden, tanned hand had felt cold and lifeless against your arm, yet the heat it had radiated was electrifying, continuing to shoot jolts throughout your entire body. His skin was soft and smooth, betraying the fact that this royal had almost certainly never worked a day in his life.

Slightly unruly brown curls and a toned slender figure - he was actually rather cute.

"Are you alright? You seem a little... Lost?" He queried, to which you seemed unable to form a response.

"I- what.. who? What's going on?" You managed, stumbling over your words as your voice cracked slightly.

He gave a small smile, clearly sympathetic of your utter confusion, before gesturing at a golden tablet, as though that were supposed to help you in any way. Noting your expression of utter bewilderment, the undead Pharaoh elaborated.

"That's my tablet, blessed by Khonsu himself. It holds the power to awake the dead at night," he gestures to himself and the cats, who stared at you, blinking and unsure whether it would be safe for them to approach. Then, he pointed to the paintings in the walls and dragged his finger towards the mass of shabti dolls, both of which watched you with the same confusion. "Along with anything else resembling a life form that finds it's way into the presence of the tablet."

"Right." You answered, holding your head and still in shock.

"You needn't be afraid, you know. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Thank you, that is a relief." You swallowed thickly.

He hummed in response, smiling with an amused frown at the fact you feared him.

"So, who exactly are you?" You asked after a short yet not uncomfortable silence.

His lavish outfit betrayed the royal status he claimed in life, only accentuated by the Red Crown, or Deshret supporting a golden snake - the symbol of monarchy- resting atop his sarcophagus. Around his neck fastened a Usekh collar, adorned with teal and umber jewels and beads, and topped with golden accents. Sleeves of cloth draped over his arms, the fibres of the fabric woven with pure gold. The metallic shine of the element was evident in the chromatic sheen of the cape resting over the Pharoah's shoulders. At his waist there hung a Shendyt kilt, fastened with a cloth belt, also elaborately decorated. Beautiful gold jewellery decorated his figure, your eyes drawn in particular to the stunning gold bracelet cuffs he supported on either wrist, encrusted with gemstones, potentially aquamarine or topaz. Once again your attention was drawn to his face.

"I am Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth king. And you are...?"

Stunned into silence for a moment by the regality of the ancient king before you, you blinked and paused briefly before answering.

"Y/N. Y/N L/N."

"So, Y/N, what are you doing in my grave?" Ahkmenrah asked you, barely trying to surpress an amused smile. Your cheeks flushed as you tried to form a lie. This ruler seemed nice, and regardless, you couldn't exactly tell him you were intent on raiding his tomb for riches.

"It was an accident. Really, it was. I was running, and, well, I wasn't exactly looking where I was going."

"Clearly." He smirked. "Why were you in the desert though? Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but you don't appear to be Egyptian."

"What? Oh, no I'm not. I'm English. I came out in an expedition with two other men; Lord Carnarvon and Carter. They're archaeologists." You winced at the manufactured truth. It wasn't entirely a lie, that was what the men claimed to be. Though all your troupe really planned to accomplish was glorified tomb-raiding, a fact that made you sick.

"And they left you here?" Ahkmenrah questioned incredulously, unable to fathom why on earth they would abandon you like this.

"Well, no. Not exactly. They allowed me to go check out the pyramid about 10 yards south, but, as o said, I fell down a hole." You blushed again, this time due to your own stupidity and clumsiness. This was not how to earn the respect of an esteemed king.

Ahkmenrah frowned. "So how long have you been down here?"

"Uh. I don't actually know, I was unconscious for a short time. Or possibly a long time, that I'm not sure of either."

Concern once again crossed the young Pharoah's face. "You poor thing! Are you alright? You're not concussed, are you?"

"Probably." You shrugged, further alarming him.

The next few hours were spent talking to Ahk, discussing everything from the legal affairs of ancient Egypt to the cats that accompanied him in his tomb. Over the course of the night, the two of you had grown closer, both in terms of friendship and literal distance. Most of the other inhabitants of the grave had deemed you safe, returning to their regular routine, and the most curious of the mummified cats, an (aptly) Egyptian mau apparently named Tivali, had become rather taken to you. Eventually, the exhaustion of the day had caught up with you, and you slumped against Ahk's shoulder. Revelling in his presence, contentment washed over you as, for the first time on your quest, you relaxed, finally at ease. Perhaps it was delirium, but in your sleepy state you swore you felt his fingertips grace against your cheek, the ghost of his lips pressing gently against your temple.

"Sleep well, my dear."

[ancientpersacom]

Natm au idea:

Because of some weird magic, everyone is sent back to their times. But they have all the memories of being in the museum. Those who were alive around the same time desperately try to find each other, those alive thousands of years apart have to deal with loosing their best friends/ loves (jedtavius angst alert). Ahk knows that it’s HIS tablet that caused all this so he tries to figure out what happened and a way to get everyone back together again. And because everyone had the memories of the museum and thus, the future, they’re able to change the course of history by avoiding their deaths or inventing things early etc.

[cosmo-craftin]

Hey Night at Museum fandom you still alive?

If so do any of you read reader fics?

Cause I’m thinking of dropping an insert reader crack taken seriously, shenanigan story. Not gonna have a lot of romance but definitely adventures of an average over anxious night guard absolutely BSing their way through securing a paycheck.

Here’s a sneak peak,

———————————-

You lowered your mug from of tea from your face and turned around. Watching as the neat craftsmanship historical miniatures suddenly move before your very eyes and functioning like a small town. Moving hauntingly in way that could only be described as…well nothing, nothing at all.

Clearly there was something wrong with the amount of sleep you were getting, maybe one to many all-nighters. To much studying and not enough self care. You know what, Cristy was right those brownies were not quite so cosmic brownies. That Thomas the sketchy, suspicious, homie, who lingered in the alleyway behind the J building probably was a drug dealer. That his brownies were laced with malicious intent, suspicious powder sugar and cosmic anomalies not joy. Because clearly this was all one fever dream, clearly you were smelling colors and seeing stars. Because clearly there was no way the itty bitty little cowboy in front of you just started walking towards you.

“Oh hey! You’re the newbie Gigantor told us bout” Glass shattered.

It was going to be a loooong night.

——————

“Larry, come get me I’m scared” you said screaming in absolute despair into the phone, from your spot underneath the desk. “The miniatures are scrambling everywhere, Theodore Rosevelvet is making out with Sacagawea, there a civil brawl in the bathroom and I swear I just a lion shredding up the trash cans. And now there’s a T. rex! A FREAKING REXSOURES MONSTROSITY!”

“Calm down just throw the bone to Rexy, you’ll be fine. I know you’re scared right now, I was to my first time too but everything will be fine. I’ll be there in five minutes if you’re really truly struggling. You don’t have anything to worry about anyways, she don’t bite.”

Rexy? the two ton bone bodied dinosaur above the desk, the fudge muffin about to diy some ripped jeans onto your uniform, HAH, “Yes it do!”

——————-

“Sooo? I know what happened last night was a little odd. But I’ve read the manual properly now, yaknow terms, conditions, and everything. I’m pretty sure I can figure this out now.”

“Ahkmenrah said you hid in the bathroom stall, crying and listening to David Bowie for the rest of the shift.”

“Listen buddy, between you me. You know damn well you would be in tears, if you had to fight off a pack of wild animals simply to be get that of minimum wage.”

“I was not in fact in tears.”

“Well fuck you Larry.”

[arvinsvintage]

In-Costume

Night at the Museum fanfic

Summary: on Halloween night, the exhibits and Larry hand out candy to the museum guests.

WARNINGS: N/A

“Oh, look at that one!”

“It is a bit too… flashy for my taste.”

“Ahk… you’re covered head to toe in bling.”

“Ah-hah! Look, a fellow military man!”

“Remember, these are just costumes, Octavius.”

The night program at the museum was back on for Halloween night. Guests were invited to come celebrate in-costume, and even trick-or-treat from the “actors”. This was the first time many of the exhibits had experienced Halloween, at least in this way. Nonetheless, they were excited about the idea when Larry explained it to them. They enjoyed being able to interact with the guests and learn more about modern times. It made them feel part of the outside world again.

So far, they were observing the guests’ costumes as they continuously flooded into the building. Most of historical ones were pretty accurate for not being real, the exhibits had noticed.

A little girl in costume ran up to the exhibits. “Trick or treat!” She held her treat bucket up. They immediately smiled with joy as she came up to them.

“And what might you be?” Teddy asked enthusiastically. Ahk took a candy bar from the bowl and placed it in the girl’s treat bucket.

“I’m a spaceman!” She jumped up excitedly.

“Ah, a noble and adventurous job!”

Sacagawea smiled at Teddy’s interaction. He was always good with kids.

“Happy holler-scream!” Ahk waved to the girl as she walked off.

“Oh, it’s actually ‘Halloween’, Ahk,” Larry corrected gently.

“Hey, Gigantor, ya think I can have one of them candy bars?” Jed asked from next to the bowl—which was the size of a swimming pool for him and Octavius.

“Yeah, I’ll give you a piece. But there’s no way you can eat the whole thing.”

“Hey, don’t undermine my eatin’ skills!”

Larry shook his head and opened one of the chocolate wrappers for the cowboy.

Everyone continued to quietly observe the new costumes filtering in. However, there was one that caught Ahk’s attention especially—a woman dressed in an ancient Egypt costume. He had to admit, she was quite beautiful.

She walked over to the group with intrigue. She chuckled when she saw Ahk’s attire, assuming like everyone else that he was simply an actor with a very educated stylist. “Why hello there, king Ahkmenrah.” Ahk stood staring at her in awe. Larry elbowed him subtly. “Oh!- Hello, there,” he smiled politely when brought back to reality.

“I think Ahk’s got a little crush,” Jed whispered to Octavius.

Octavius smirked. “Mm, I prefer blondes.”

[ivorydragoness44]

Ahkmenrah x Reader: Sarcophagus Part 2

Sarcophagus Part 1

Word Count: 2,388 Warnings/Notes: Minor angst (disappointment, worry, disbelief), Reader kinda panicking over touching ancient artifacts without gloves. Summary: Having yet been able to free Ahkmenrah from his sarcophagus, the Reader tries to find a way into the museum at night.

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

The sun was hanging low in the sky as the day was nearing its end. But for two people inside the Museum of Natural History, they were missing every moment of it. Deep within the ancient Egyptian exhibit, you and your archeologist colleague were hard at work. Though as day was nearing evening,you both were finishing up with cataloguing the hieroglyphs around Ahkmenrah’s sarcophagus. Packing up their equipment into their satchel, your friend and longtime colleague turned to you. “Are you sure that you want to ask to stay in the museum after closing? I mean, I know that this is important and downright fascinating to you. Believe me, I know. And I couldn’t agree more, but…do you honestly think the museum director will allow it?” They kept their voice down. Even in an empty room, the flooring could echo off of the large walls. You plopped down beside the sarcophagus, you bag between your legs. “I hope he agrees. It’s just that we always have a limited amount of time. We’re lucky we got four weeks to do this,” you sighed. Glancing at the scale of the room around you, you shrugged. “This museum has been open for how many years? And no one has though to catalogue the hieroglyphs?” They gave a dry laughs as they finished packing. “Well, they found the tomb and brought all that they could here. They at least have a decent list of all of the items.” “And after a while, they move on to the next big discovery.” “There’s nothing wrong with that,” they stood, slinging their bag over their shoulder. “Not everyone has the luxury to sit around with the same discoveries for a while.” Following their lead, you grumbled. “It’s like searching for garage sales, but having to pay beforehand without knowing if you’ll ever really find something.” With a tilt of their head, they squinted teasingly at you. “And with that strange comparison to archeology…”

Turning toward the exit, you both headed down the straight path. Between the near ceiling height jackals, and away from the ancient glittering gold artifacts. A fleeting glance from you at the far most interior of the exhibit, and you felt it. A mixture of emotions. Guilt, wonder, and even skepticism. Since that fateful evening, you had not dared to utter a word about the incident. Unfortunately, there was your reputation to worry about. The dream career clutched tightly within your grasp as well. Besides, who in their right mind would believe you. It was outlandish. Ridiculous. Outrageously peculiar. And if it was late on a Halloween night, potentially terrifying.

Into the hallway, the pair of you headed straight toward the museum curator’s office. Though as you passed by a few guests, you found that the director was out in the lobby. The dress-suited man’s brows rose in recognition when he noticed the two of you. “Ah! I see that another day’s work has come to a close,” he smiled as you approached. “Yes. Thank you again for allowing us such access into the museum, Doctor McPhee.” “Of course,” he nodded, clasping his hands together. “I was enthralled to see if such an…investigative task would draw in more visitors.” As he glanced around, you held your breath. “However, no one quite attends the exhibits like they used to. They like the new and the exciting. Unless either of you found something worthwhile?” Your partner spoke up first. They seemed always ready when the situation demanded it. “Not yet. We still need to take time to translate the hieroglyphs.” “Right, right. They can’t possibly translate themselves, now can they?” Polite, and partially awkward laughter ensued for a few moments.

A decent amount of courage grew, and you knew that you had to ask. If not now, when? “Um, Doctor McPhee, we were hoping to complete more of our findings after the museum’s closing at night. To also avoid the possibility of disturbing the visitors during the day, and the overall normal functioning of the museum activities.” With a fading smile, the curator shook his head. “No, no. I’m afraid not. I appreciate your hard work, and wanting to maintain the integrity of the museum. But my answer is no.” A heaviness dropped within you. Despite that feeling, however, you smiled politely. “Thank you, anyway,” you nodded. “We understand completely,” your partner added. “Have a good evening.” As further pleasantries came to an end, you made your way to the exit. It was not unlike every other time, and yet, it was. The museum curator held the final word. Someone had to. You were just hoping to leave with an emotion other than disappointment.

Days had passed and you had yet to take a single step back into the museum. It was not so much that you were upset, but that other work needed to be done. Other responsibilities needed to be tended to. You could not stay in the museum forever. Recording the hieroglyphs more legibly and digitally. The time it tok to translate each symbol, and record your findings. As well as to share all of that information with other colleagues, and other such procedures. It could be overwhelming sometimes. What you could not let occupy your thoughts, was Ahkmenrah. Or at least not during work hours. You worried about him. What if he lost faith in you helping him? A stranger he could not see or touch. What if he was still waiting for you? Keeping someone waiting after making such a promise felt more awful as the days went by. But worse yet, what if the whole ordeal never happened in the first place?

Hours later, you woke up with a jolt. The phone was ringing. It was much too loud for you to deal with at the moment. “Hello?” “Okay, wake up!” Your colleague. “Look…I know it’s late…it’s uh…” Squinting in the dark, you glanced at the time. “So late that it’s almost tomorrow.” “Heheh, sorry about that. But this is important. You need to hurry to the museum.” Sudden alarm pushed aside any remaining tiredness and lulling thoughts of sleep. “Why? What’s wrong?” You asked in a rush, sitting up in bed. “Uh, not necessarily. Apparently, someone’s throwing a party.” Your nose scrunched at their words. “A party?” “Yeah. So, I was thinking that maybe we can get inside to check on our pharaoh.” Hope sprung in your chest and you swung out of bed. “Let me get dressed and I’ll be right over. Wait,” you paused in your rush. “Where are you?” “Out front.” They explained with a more casual tone to their voice. They’re playing great music, by the way. The light show is a little much though.“ You laughed. “Thank you for your commentary. I’ll see you soon.”

Minutes dragged on through the late night as you hurried to the museum. When you arrived, your colleague was just where they said they were. “This looks insanely out of place,” you said. Looking up at the building, it appeared as if all of the lights were in use. Not ailing to mention a number of them that seemed more fitted for a concert instead. “What,” they smiled beside you, “you’ve never partied among artifacts before?” You elected to not respond. And with the music pumping as it was, you did not feel like raising your voice to be heard.

A single head nod from your friend, and you both made your way up the front steps. At the top, the glass revealed an interesting party scene. Everyone indoors was dressed like the mannequins and statues from a variety of exhibits. You were about a second away from complimenting the accuracy in their wardrobe before you saw something else. There was no widely used technology like it, that you knew of. Even theaters and roaming exhibits used elaborate costuming and puppetry. The animals prancing fluidly were definitely neither. “That’s..a zebra,” your friend gawked. “There’s no way.” You glanced at each other in disbelief. “We’re either looking at something that we can never afford, or…witnessing something else entirely.” “They look like they’re enjoying themselves though. I mean—” Eventually, through your wide-eyed staring, someone approached. Dressed in dark navy, a museum nightguard made his way over and opened one of the doors. “Uh, hi. This is kinda a private party…so…” For the save, your friend spoke up. “I’m an archeologist. My colleague and I have been residing here for the past month cataloging the pharaoh’s hieroglyphs.” Though you were sure that they were going to say more, the nightguard’s face lit up with recognition. He was much younger than the three you had met on occasion. “Oh! Right,” he smiled. Gesturing at you, he added further. “And you’re the hieroglyphical—” “Egyptologist,” you corrected kindly. “Right. My apologies. I’m Larry, the new nightguard. It’s pretty late, um, did you need something, or left something inside?” He asked with genuine curiosity. You swallowed down your anxious nerves. “I would like to check on the sarcophagus, if you don’t mind.” Urgency pumped through your veins. Uncertainty hung in the air. Could your heart handle any more disappointment? “Oh, uh,” Larry checked behind him. “Yeah. Come on in.” Stepping aside, he let you both into the lively museum. “I’ll escort you over. Mind your step.”

“This is unreal.” Your friend awed beside you. The tyrannosaurus rex skeleton that typically posed on its perch at the entrance was not in its place. Instead, it was chasing after a little remote controlled car.

Leaving the main party scene, you sighed quietly to yourself. The hallway had a dramatic decrease in activity. Your ears, among your other senses, were grateful. Too much all at once was all too overwhelming.

To your right, the exhibit for the Pharaoh Ahkmenrah. “Don’t look up…jackals,” advised Larry. “Protectors of tombs. Anubis,” you recalled, eyeing your friend. “Hah, yeah, and they do take their job very seriously.” “As do we,” your friend said before placing a hand to your arm. Your heart dropped as you passed through the last archway. Stepping around Larry, you noticed something awful. Not only was the stone slab on the floor, but the lid to the sarcophagus had been opened. It was empty. Empty, with the exception of the ancient mummy’’s cloth wrappings. “Oh my,” you covered your mouth. Staring down into the sarcophagus, you could hardly believe your eyes. “It’s open. Who took the mummy out? No one here is authorized.” Larry put his hands up defensively. “No one took the mummy, he walked out.” Staring at the man, your eyes narrowed a fraction. “Walked out?” “Yeah,” he shrugged awkwardly. “He does that. Well, I mean, he technically has to climb out of there…” “Since when?” You asked, remembering that night more clearly. “He was trapped, and the other nightguards wouldn’t let him out.” “He—you know a lot.” Larry paused, looking as confused as your colleague. “How do you know that?” “I was here later than expected, accidentally. I was working.” “Okay, I’m gonna have to ask you about that later,” your friend pointed out. “But where is he, because my Brendan Fraser impression isn’t great.”

By the sound of approaching footsteps, you all turned around. There, walking up the pathway into the exhibit was someone wearing a complete ancient Egyptian pharaoh outfit. The gold gleamed off even in the dim lighting. “Oh, hey, Ahk,” Larry greeted, striding toward the young man. “I have some people who would like to meet you.” Puzzled, you were sure your entire face scrunched in your bewilderment. “Ahk?” Larry smiled between the pair of you. “Yeah, Ahk—” “Hello. I am Ahkmenrah. Fourth King of the Fourth King. Ruler of the land of my fathers.” “Well, shit,” your colleague squeaked out quietly. Familiarity echoed in your ears. That introduction was the exact same that you were given so many nights ago. His voice, though much clearer, was almost striking to hear. And his youthful face? It reminded you of the digital facial reconstructions performed from thorough scans. Ones of which that were not shared with the public for some reason. Though it was from a few years ago, the likeness was uncanny. “Oh my gosh,” you murmured. Tears began to well up around your eyes as you looked at him. Ahkmenrah’s dark brows curved up in curious worry. “Apparently you two have met,” Larry explained. “Like, before I worked here.” The Pharaoh’s eyes widened, understanding. Slowly, he approached you with gold bracelet bound arms extending outward. In the next moment, you found yourself in a tender embrace. “I’m sorry,” you whispered to him. “I’m sorry I could not free you sooner or find a way like I had promised.” “It’s quite alright,” he assured. His hands remained to the upper portion of your back, thumbs rubbing gently. Leaning out of the embrace, he looked to you with soft brown eyes. “Larry, Guardian of Brooklyn, freed me. And so I was able to restore order to the museum.” Your brows nearly shot up to your hairline. “Oh.” Restore order? What was—? Ahkmenrah’s eyes looked between your own as you stilled in place. At such a close distance, you took notice of the pharaoh’s attire. Ancient gold and fabrics. Intricate beadwork that was supposed to be inside their proper display cases. All for their protection and preservation. And you were touching it with your bare hands. A small intake of air lead to you hardly breathing at all. “What’s the matter?” Asked of Ahkmenrah, his face downcast in his concern. “I shouldn’t be touching this without the proper gloves,” you stared in horror. Fingertips shaking over polished blue beads. “I won’t tell,” your friend piped up with a shrug. “Breathe.” Stepping back carefully, you took a steadying breath to calm yourself. The pharaoh’s hands slipping down to your arms. Again, your friend spoke up. This time, they directed themselves toward the museum’s nightguard. “Is there any other surprises?” They asked, looking around. “Like…uh, the tablet glowing?” “Glowing?” You peered behind you. “Yep, it’s glowing. Does it…do that at night?” Ahkmenrah nodded. “After the sun sets each evening.” You gawked at the golden tablet across the room. “I’m not going to believe any of this in the morning.”

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

Thank you for reading!

[ghoulishtomato]

Hey NATM fandom 😳

I know we don't bring up Rebecca a lot, but imagine her coming back to The Museum of Natural History years later to maybe visit Sacagawea to tell her how well her dissertation came out, and to just catch up and visit, only to learn the tablet is no longer there. I should write that fic.

[rose-l-20]

Hello, how are you? I loved your headcanons about Night at the Museum, several of them have become canon in my mind as a fan. I don't know if you're taking requests, but could you do headcanons like you did for the other characters, but this time for Amelia Earhart? I feel like she needs more love from the fandom, and besides, she's one of my favorite characters in the franchise.

GENERAL HEADCANONS - AMELIA EARHART

Hey! I am wonderful now that my business diploma has finally ended, so I can get through the small handful of requests i have, and my own personal ideas! How are you you my love? Which headcanons did you like, I would love to know!

If you would like to request more characters, please refer to my NATM MASTERLIST for the characters, and send you requests.

SUMMARY: See request above!

WARNINGS: nothing too different from the first list I did, and again my opinions!😱 I am basing these headcanons on the movie character, not the actual Amelia Earhart as I am not 100% knowledgeable on her history and don't want to offend the dead. I genuinely found this hard even though I've seen the movie 10 billion times!.

Amelia had long hair growing up that people would compliment and gush over. One day she got sick of it, so she grabbed the closest pair of scissors and cut her hair to her collarbone.

When it comes to how she talks, Amelia went to a play with friends as a teenager, and a character spoke in this unique way. She used the voice when making jokes, then it just became her daily voice.

I don't usually like sexuality based headcanons to characters based on history (excluding Jed and Octavius😂), but as a young teen I took one look at her and went "oh that's a badass Bisexual woman".

Amelia knew from a young age that "house wife" wasn't going to happen. She knew she was worth more than that. This doesn't mean that she didn't want to experience love and the warmth of a significant other. so when meeting potential (male) partners, the first thing she would say is "If you're looking for someone to cook and clean for you, then don't waste your time sugar".

In her twenties, she saw a plane fly across the sky, and knew from the sound of the engine, that she was going to become the best pilot the world had ever seen!

Amelia had a short time of being alive from the tablet, meaning she didn't get to see how her life changed the world for women. if given the chance, I feel like she would've had a moment of emotional silence. Feeling proud of herself, proud of all the women who fought to get to this point in history.

Again, she was only alive for a night. but she, and the original exhibits got along within no time, which created the best comradery.

From a basic google search, She loved creating coinvent and stylish fashion, so I just know she altered her coat to have as many pockets as it could fit. You could say it is the retro version of Yelena Bulova from marvel's utility vest!

If she had enough time to see movies, hear music, and taste food from our era she would LOVE movies based on flying (obviously), but I also think she would love comedy.

Amelia can surprisingly handle high levels of spicy foods, with little to no reaction. If she were to try a true traditional Indian curry, she would be asking for 2nds, 3rds, and 4ths!

her music taste would 100% be female empowerment artists, with a hint of metal. basically anything that would be fantastic for a badass battle scene.

She is soooooooooooOOOOooooo stubborn, which we can see in the movie. It is her way or the highway sometimes, which she tries her hardest to not be that way but it's like second nature.

again from light research, she was a nurse at a point in her life. with this, and also how tender she was with Larry and the rest of the exhibits she gets joy from being nurturing to those around her.

---------

DONE! I am not 100% happy with these, but truly there wasn't much to go off of. I hope you're happy with them MARVELFOREVER352.

Have a good Friday and a relaxing weekend!

[natmarchivist]

[slushie5544]

Chapter 5 Preview

That Blasted Monkey!

Don't worry folks there's no monkey kissing or pissing here folks! Just being a menace-

Feeling the inside of his pockets the guard felt his heart sink, there was no sign of the paper. They were empty. He tried his back pockets, but all he had retrieved was his punched-out ticket. There was no way he lost it! Frantically he continued patting down his pants thinking maybe he had a hole and it just happened to slip out, but he still couldn’t find or feel any sign of the golden paper. A voice behind him caused Larry to look up and he could see the reflection of the golden-caped conductor in the window. Spinning on his heels Larry tried to give a convincing smile, but it quickly dropped when he looked past the conductor who seemed to be asking him a question. However, all Larry was focused on was the capuchin who held an unpunched golden ticket and sat near an open window.

“How?”

That was all Larry could utter which the monkey shrugged with a smile that he recognized and it only took a moment for him to connect the dots. His eyes widened as he shook his head quickly trying to get past the confused pharaoh.

“No, Dexter! Don’t do it! I know what you’re thinking! Bad idea! Dex- NO!”

His legs sprinted forward, practically pushing past the conductor as he watched Dexter let go of the ticket and it was carried away by the gust of wind. He tried to chase after the paper stumbling through the aisle as he watched it get caught on the of a window, with a relieved sigh he slowly tried to open the latch, but the sound of a door opening with a soft voice had surprised Larry and he let go of the window and it swiftly dropped open. Gasping Larry tried to reach outside and grab onto the ticket, but it was already gone with the wind.

“Dad? What’s going on?”

(Cont on Ao3:

[caterpillarinacave]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Night at the Museum (Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Larry Daley, Jedediah (Night at the Museum), Octavius (Night at the Museum), Theodore Roosevelt (Night at the Museum), Ahkmenrah (Night at the Museum), Tilly (Night at the Museum), Night at the Museum Characters, Other Character Tags to Be Added, Miu the Cat, Dexter (Night At The Museum), No Beta we die like Ahkmenrah when his big brother got a little too knife happy Additional Tags: that's a whole lot to tag okay, i'll deal with it later, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, if you really squint, more like, Comfort No Hurt, Historical Inaccuracies, Historical References, Historical Accuracy, both deeply accurate and deeply inaccurate as is the way of the beast, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Animal Death, Magic, Implied/Referenced Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reunions, Fluff and Humor, author has never written anything involving a cat before, authors brain is hurting, author spent three hours researching ancient Egyptian cats cause Google is the worst search engine, author just watched their country elect a facist racist sexist hateful serial sex offender, can you really fault me for anything here Summary:

Larry Daley knew the exhibits of the museum very well; but he was positive he did not know the cat sitting in front of him.

A small new shipment of exhibits arrive at the Museum of Natural History in NYC. Among them is a cat, thousands of years older than *almost* everything else in the museum. The determined little creature is a familiar, and dearly missed, face to a certain young Pharaoh who hasn't seen his cat since 1938; and thought he never would again.

 Or; Ahkmenrah's cat, who was separated from him when the tomb was raided in the 1930s, shows up at the museum.

Behold! I post!

[ancientpersacom]

Wait hang on. A ton of statues and art in museums depict people naked, and when the tablet brings them all to life, they don’t seem bothered by it. So I’m going to assume casual nudity is just,,, a thing in the museum. Like some of the exhibits just don’t wear clothes and no one else bats an eye. Completely non sexual, bc you know artistic nudity, no one cares type thing. So imagine a new exhibit coming in and getting whiplash seeing some statue walk by, whole ass out, and no one seems to care.

That sounds like a great topic for a crack fic.

[yourlegacysnotyourstosee]

Octavius in “Down, then Right” by @the-casbah-way

[rivstyx]

Hey! Could I please ask for a NatM fic recommendation? I don't like oneshots or pwp so Idk where to start tbh

YES of course you can my dear anon! it sounds like you're looking for longer, more plotty stories, so here are some fics that may fit that description:

The Barn Raising by PoetryInMotion (7,463 words)

The Old West's barn has been demolished by a fetch-related accident. When they get a new one, the Western denizens throw a good old-fashioned barn-raising party. Jedediah decides to invite Octavius (and both secretly hope that they can kindle a romance between the do-si-do and the two-step).

some classic fluff. if you grew up a yeehaw like me, you'll love the little touches of Western culture; if not, you can still appreciate how damn cute this fic is

Down Then Left by mournwiththemoon (36,024 words, incomplete)

Octavius is balls deep in the closet and a mild midlife crisis. Jedediah just wants to fix the elevator. AKA the corporate loser x mechanical engineer AU that literally nobody asked for.

modern AU that i'm obsessed with. octavius is a sad divorced sandbag, jed is an obnoxious wannabe country singer, and i love them both with all my heart

He Loves Me Not by orphan_account (25,820 words)

Jed stumbles across a stack of unsent/unfinished love letters from Octavius to an unknown person in the museum. Jed sets out to find out who. Not because he’s jealous. No, not all.

big romcom vibes. it's not miscommunication, but it's not not miscommunication

if this was a cowboy movie (i'd give you my boots) by Liviapenn (10,180 words)

There are secret articles in our treaties with the gods, of more importance than all the rest, which the historian can never know.' -- Henry David Thoreau. This hour I tell things in confidence, I might not tell everybody, but I will tell you. -- Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself"

ok this one only sort of fits the bill, but i love it too much not to rec it. it follows jed and octavius as they walk back from the car wreck in movie 1 and tell each other stories about their pasts

living beyond your years (acting out all their fears) by Riv_Styx (16,447 words)

“Go,” Octavius repeated. “Run. I am with you.” Jedediah did the one thing he never thought he was capable of doing. The thing he would have sooner died than chosen of his own accord. He ran. Secret of the Tomb AU. Octavius doesn't make it out of Pompeii; angry and grieving, Jedediah goes home alone. Meanwhile, for Octavius, his whole world changes overnight. The new museum is thriving on the magic of the tablet, but it's not where he belongs. It's going to be a long way home.

oh look a familiar name!

my heart will stop in joy by HungryOnMain (12,433 words, incomplete)

A temporary exhibit, on display at the AMNH for a limited time, brings forth a vengeful force from the past. Terrible, painful memories bubble up from the depths of the minds of everyone on display. They can be taken, and joy restored - for a price.

dark, fucked up, and utterly addicting. i eagerly await every serving. this one says "hey, forget kahmunrah - what else could tablet magic possibly do in the wrong hands?"

Any Weather (series) by EwokRae22 (151,470 words)

On a lucky break from McPhee, Larry brings the exhibits on a winter vacation north of New York. He has everything prepared, or at least that’s what he tells himself. Because nothing can stop Jedediah and Octavius’s useless and oh-so-tiny longing for each other, not even the snow.

a fandom classic! the series follows jed and octavius through some wild adventures and features some genuinely heart-wrenching twists

Cacoethes (series) by Anonymous (25,927 words)

A deeper look into Jedediah and Octavius's experiences during Battle of the Smithsonian, and a look at what could have happened after the end.

take the hourglass scene from natm 2 and turn the homosexuality up to eleven, and you've got cacoethes - though the rest of the works in the series are definitely worth the read!

hope this helps! :D

[ghoulishtomato]

Jedediah really calls Octavius "Ockie" ONCE- ONE WHOLE TIME- in all of the NATM films, and you fanfic writers took it and RAN with it.

All these fanfics, and Jed almost exclusively refers to Octavius as Ockie or Octy HAHA

[buriedwithadonkey]

'The one I called my brother - Ahkmenrah and Kahmunrah drabble'

I remember the last words my brother said to me, before the cruel hands of death dragged me away. His cold eyes piercing through my dying soul. The blade that sliced my body felt like a dull ache to me. It was his eyes that stung more. To me, it first looked like hatred, and then, guilt. I felt air enter my lungs for the last time as my brother's bloodied hands silenced my screams.

'I hate you.' He whispered, hiding his tears. I could only look up at him as death slowly took me.

I could never hate him, because if I did, it would consume me like it did to him, the one I called my brother.