#interaction | layla el faouly

[lumiinousbeingsold]

tag drop - comics pt. 3

[storyuntrue]

@threegoldfish: "Cálmate, chiquita - dust yourself off, keep your chin up." (Jake @ Layla, have all 3 of them :) No pressure!)

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔   𝒉𝒂𝒅   𝒕𝒐   𝒃𝒆   𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆   𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒕   of   a sick   joke   that   Mark   was   playing   on   her.   It   just   had   to   be.   First   of   all,   she   never   even   knew   that   he   could   speak   Spanish   fluently.   And   for   him   to   not   only   utter   it   now   but   have   an   accent   when   speaking   English   no   less ?   Her   mind   was   reeling   from   that   alone.   Second,   she   had   never   seen   that   blankness   in   his   eyes,   ever.   Not   when   his   gaze   was   directed   at   her.   “I   don’t. . .   I   don’t   understand.   Steven   doesn’t   talk   this   way,   neither   do—”

Of   course,   it   takes   voicing   it   out   loud   for   the   other   shoe   to   drop.   “Who   are   you?”  

[age-of-moonknight]

“Vengeance Never Dies,” Moon Knight: City of the Dead (Vol. 1/2023), #5.

Writer: David Pepose; Penciler: Marcelo Ferreira; Inker: Jay Leisten; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

[amidnightmission]

Travel was in her blood. Always had been, she supposed. Her father had taken her around to every dig site he'd worked on. Sure, mostly in Egypt - but there had been some good trips around Asia and into Europe, too. Sitting still had never really been option. If she'd fought her father probably would have sent her to a boarding school permanently instead of for a few terms here and there, to make sure her education was up to date. But Layla didn't like sitting still.

After everything with Harrow had gone down, Layla hadn't been sure what to expect. But the thing was, they both had their lives to live. A few days together didn't change everything, did it? Maybe put some things into perspective and filled in a few blanks but it didn't change that Marc had up and left on her, and now Steven was off doing-- well, his own thing. A very Steven thing. She'd been content to let them all have a cooling off period. Not forever, mind, and she wanted contact with them - an actual number that worked.

And for a while, she'd worked with Marc when she could - hunting down some last members of the cult. Harrow might be gone, but he had some TRUE BELIEVERS. Unfortunately. The craziest people had the most loyal devotees. That was what she was doing done. Tracking down a couple of rogue members (as herself, and occasionally as the Scarlet Scarab). She wasn't certain, but she also believed they might be in possession of some artefacts stolen from the sacred grounds and pyramids before they'd fled. Her work had led her to London. She'd not seen Marc for a while, had had a message from Steven. Figured they'd meet up. But--

"You have to got to be kidding me."

She'd thought she'd been followed. Was certain of it. Had gone down an alley, pulled out a little knife (laugh all you want she was proficient with it), and had turned around to fight. Only to turn and see... THEM.

starter call ☾ @normaltothemax

[corruptedarkness]

@disastri​ 

Layla/Marc: 

Layla found herself thinking back on how far they’d come, she’d married a man whom she loved and held a shared interest with but he’d hidden things from her, his troubled past, entire personality at one point while most would’ve ran away faster then the other could even get words out she watched and learned. She came to love Steven just as Marc had after all he was created for protection and he was part of the man she lived just a side she hadn’t seen until everything happened. Now they were a proper team, which took less convincing this time around when she’d become an avatar as well for a slightly less condescending God. “You know, I often wonder if any of your previous missions went this well, It’s very clear without me you’d be lost” She teased him as she finished tying up one of the goons she’d taken down.

[silklies-moved]

open   starter   for   mutuals     ⸻

❛   did  you   seriously   just   accuse   me  of  stealing   ?   ❜  

[autismsupermusicalassassin]

@official-mr-knight, @theofficialmoonknight @theegyptiangodofthemoon @the3rdprotector,

what the-

3 in 1 Shampoo

a/n: click the images for better quality and scroll, please 💞

Tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @bobastayhigh @weblesstherains @h-leigh @unspokenmoon @ahookedheroespureheart @thursdaywritings @gebstargeb @softieekayy @fem-moony @peachjellypackets @pakhiya @darlinglittledevil @anixluxtt @mrs-cupidd @gebgeb @poeticabomination @runny-mascara

this work is part of the series "I'm friends with the moon". This also can be read as a stand-alone.

[januaryembrs]

LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO MASTERLIST

DESCRIPTION: She’s all Steven can think about in between the missing days and the American man inside his head. When Harrow’s jackals leaves Marc with a difficult choice, his hectic life is spun out of control as Seth, God of Violence and Chaos, comes to reap his reward in the form of a woman from Soho with a dark past and a crush on Steven Grant. (Lightly inspired by Last Night in Soho dir. Edgar Wright)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: (specific warnings at the beginning of each chapter) 18+ DARK PAST. Sex trafficking/prostitution. Grooming. Explicit. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Abuse ex-boyfriend/lover, death, murder, gore, drug use. Any smut written will be consensual sex only, but there will be some implication to dubcon content. PLEASE CHECK WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ. AGAIN MINORS DNI. * = smut warning

STEVEN GRANT & MARC SPECTOR X (EVENTUAL) AVATAR!READER. Friends to lovers trope (Steven Grant) Sunshine x Grumpy trope (Marc Spector), Light smut, explicit language, no use of Y/N, goes by nickname Dove. I ADORE LAYLA EL-FAOULY so she is still in the narrative but as Dove’s reluctant friend. Female!reader. AFAB!reader. I am English and do not have DID but have tried my best to do all the research I could on the themes I talk about (Ancient Egyptian culture/history/language. Experiencing DID etc) but if I am misinformed and offend anyone, know I am truly sorry and am more than happy to hear anyone’s corrections in my inbox and will do my best to fix it!

main masterlist

CHAPTER ONE - Steven finds his life slowly turning upside down when the man in the mirror starts talking back, he's sleepwalking all the way to the Alps, and the woman he's besotted with from work finds herself more caught up in all of it than he'd ever wanted.

CHAPTER TWO - She wakes up with a killer headache and a million questions when she realises two things: 1. the man in her room is not infact Steven Grant and 2. her body no longer belongs to her but to the God of Death.

CHAPTER THREE - With Marc and Steven captured by Harrow's men, Layla has no choice but to work with her ex-husbands mistress to get them and the scarab to safety. But things take a turn when Seth comes to reap his reward.

CHAPTER FOUR - Dove wakes up in Steven’s apartment for the second time covered in blood with only one thing on her mind. What the hell happened last night?

CHAPTER FIVE - Marc and Dove adjust to their new mission: catch Harrow before he can release Ammit and for the love of gods don’t let Seth have the body again.

CHAPTER SIX - Summoning a council with the gods sound easy enough, right? Except the man on trial knows the dark secret she has yet to tell Marc.

CHAPTER SEVEN - Marc, his ex-wife and his supposed mistress head to Mogart’s to find Senfu’s sarcophagus, whatever could go wrong when the god of Chaos wants to be involved?

CHAPTER EIGHT - Dove, Marc and Layla escape Mogart’s with only more dead ends and questions unanswered. They’re running out of time before Harrow reaches the tomb, but one thing keeps sticking in Layla’s head more than the rest. Why does Dove look so guilty?

CHAPTER NINE * - Layla, Steven and Dove set off towards Ammit’s tomb across the dunes, only Steven and Dove have a heavy confession they’ve each been meaning to make.

CHAPTER TEN - Marc finds out the truth about Dove, and pays the mortal price.

CHAPTER ELEVEN -

CHAPTER TWELVE -

CHAPTER THIRTEEN -

CHAPTER FOURTEEN -

CHAPTER FIFTEEN -

Comment or send an ask to be tagged in new chapters!

[anonymousewrites]

Burden of Truth (Book 1) Chapter Eight

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Reader

Chapter Eight: To Mogart

Summary: With little luck, Marc and (Y/N) bump into Layla, who has a solution to finding their own clue to Ammit's tomb.

            Marc and (Y/N) walked through the marketplace of Cairo as (Y/N) kept an eye out for possible people to talk to. They had seen a lot of black-market dealings in their time, and that meant they had seen a lot of black-market dealers.

            “Do you recognize anyone?” asked Marc.

            “Not yet,” said (Y/N). “But it’s possible new fronts and new workers could be a part of the scene. If I don’t recognize them, it’s my fault.”

            “You’re doing the best you can, kid,” said Marc. “And I can’t do better.”

            (Y/N) glanced at him, unsure of how to react—still confused in interactions. They opted to nod curtly.

            “…About what Harrow said,” said Marc. “Are you alright?”

            Pouring from him, the words couldn’t be held back. Marc had seen (Y/N)’s reactions to Harrow’s words and accusations, and he didn’t like it. They were a kid. They were working harder for what was right than most adults did. They were good. They didn’t deserve to be looked down on or hurt by Harrow.

            Did I deserve to be hurt?

            Banishing the thought, Marc looked at (Y/N) as their eyes flicked to the ground before raising again.

            “He didn’t lie,” said (Y/N). “My parents died. I am a young Avatar.” They furrowed their brow. “But…I don’t understand why that meant my words could be dismissed. I told the truth, but no one listened.”

            “None of the gods are fair,” said Marc. His hand rose to pat (Y/N)’s shoulder (affectionately), but he forced it back down. “You did the right thing, though. They’re the ones who were stupid enough to listen more to Harrow.”

            “Thanks,” said (Y/N) quietly, pulling the cuffs of their jacket.

            “How have you guys not gotten anywhere with this whole mission?”

            As a new voice entered the conversation, Marc and (Y/N) whirled. Layla stared at them, hands on her hips.

            “You’re so close, but I guess experience doesn’t make up for being Egyptian and really knowing this place,” said Layla, smirking.

            “Layla, what the hell are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here,” said Marc.

            “Why? Because my name pisses off a few people in Cairo?” said Layla.

            “Well, that could cause a problem,” pointed out (Y/N).

            Perfectly unconcerned, Layla shrugged. “Who cares?”

            “It’s not the locals I’m worried about,” said Marc.

            Layla rolled her eyes. “Just come with me. I’ll help you find what you need.”

            “We have been pretty slow,” said (Y/N). “Harrow’s already on the track of Ammit’s tomb.”

            Marc’s jaw clenched, but he nodded.

            “Perfect! Follow me,” said Layla.

l

            That evening, Layla, Marc, and (Y/N) ended up on a boat filled with a family playing music and dancing with one another. Lively, upbeat melodies filled the air, and (Y/N) smiled as they watched, enchanted, as the family celebrated being together as one. As the sun dipped in the east, fiery light danced across the waves as the boat skimmed over the river.

            “So, what exactly are we gonna do here? What’s the plan?” asked Marc.

            Layla raised a brow. “Oh. It’s not pleasant being left in the dark, is it?”

            Marc’s jaw clenched. “Okay.”

            This is one way to ruin the happy family moment, thought (Y/N), sighing.

            “I get that you’re not happy about me leaving so quickly and coming to Cairo,” said Marc. “I understand.”

            “Wait. Is that your apology?” Layla scoffed. “That’s good. That’s really good.”

            (Y/N) didn’t need their ability to know she was lying and being sarcastic.

            “Just so we can get through tonight, maybe let’s just give our shit a rest for a moment and just try to strategize before we get to…” Actually unsure, Marc trailed off.

            “Mogart’s,” finished Layla.

            “Mogart’s?” repeated Marc.

            (Y/N) had heard of him—an antiquities “collector” who was really just a thief and a black-market dealer.

            “Just so you know, I’m not here to help you,” said Layla sharply to Marc. “I’m here for me and for everyone else who would die if Harrow succeeds.” Gesturing to (Y/N), she continued, “And you’re bringing a kid to a fight, so I have every right to take charge.”

            (Y/N) blinked, and they pulled on their sleeves. First Marc, now Layla. Two adults seemed…concerned, or something like that, about them. Due to the unfamiliarity of the feeling, (Y/N) found themself uncomfortable.

            Marc nodded stiffly. “Copy that.”

            “Got it,” said (Y/N), spilling the words out quickly.

            “Good,” said Layla.

            Marc swallowed. “But I am sorry. For whatever that’s worth.”

            Truth. (Y/N) felt it in their bones. They smiled.

            Clearing his throat, Marc brushed aside his vulnerability. “So, this Mogart guy. He’s really gonna have his sarcophagus?”

            “Yes. I asked around,” said Layla. “Mogart’s collection is prime gossip for those of us who deal in antiquities.”

            Abruptly, the music grew louder, and the three at the end of the boat looked back at the others. They were dancing and laughing, in their own world of fun, outside of Marc, Layla, and (Y/N)’s more complicated one.

            Marc smiled and gazed at Layla. “I haven’t heard that sound since…” His eyes softened. “Since our wedding.”

            Layla couldn’t help a smile in return. Feeling it, however, she cleared her throat and looked at (Y/N). She escaped from sharing vulnerability. “(Y/N), we’ll be heading downriver for a while longer. You should take a rest.”

            “I can keep going,” said (Y/N).

            Layla raised a brow, and (Y/N)’s heart clenched as they remembered how their mom used to affectionately scold them, making them feel guided and protected. “Uh-huh. You can, but that doesn’t mean you should. Rest. Unlike Marc, I’m not running off anytime soon.”

            “…Alright.”

            Layla spoke no lies, and, although able to continue, (Y/N) was tired. From running around Cairo to fighting to channeling Ma’at to pleading with the gods for them to listen, (Y/N) had gone through about as much any person could take without crashing. They lay down on the bench, closed their eyes, and drifted off into blissful silence as the sounds of a joyful family swam around them hauntingly.

l

            “They shouldn’t be here,” said Layla, looking at (Y/N). She wanted them to rest, yes, but she had also wanted to talk to Marc about bringing a child into danger.

            “They’re an Avatar. Harrow knows who they are. They’re in more danger alone than they are with me. Us,” said Marc.

            Layla remained unimpressed. “They’re more in danger with you.”

            Clenching his jaw, Marc looked away. How was he supposed to answer? Layla was right. Around him, (Y/N) was in danger. Yes, they were an Avatar, but they had still been unseen, working in the shadows, until Marc got involved with Harrow and exposed them in the Alps with Steven.

            It was his fault they were in danger. Marc couldn’t just leave them. He had failed to protect others he led into danger. He couldn’t fail to protect (Y/N). They were too much like him. Like Randall.

            Marc wanted them to turn out better than he had.

            “Maybe. But who else cares about that other than us?” said Marc.

            Layla looked at the sleeping teen. She nodded shortly. Who else was there to care about (Y/N)?

l

            “(Y/N).”

            Sitting up, (Y/N) opened their eyes as they heard Marc speak to them. “What?”

            “We’re here,” said Marc.

            (Y/N) looked around. The boat was docking in front of a small carnival with glass, pyramidal structures behind a dirt track for horses. Marc, Layla, and (Y/N) disembarked and approached the grass lawn.

            “This guy’s got a lot of friends,” said Marc.

            “Yeah, and a lot with guns,” said Layla.

            “What else did we expect?” said (Y/N).

            Marc glanced around, and his eyes landed on a small motorboat approaching the pier. They had no lights and were looking around suspiciously.

            “What is it?” asked (Y/N), seeing Marc’s body-language tense.

            “Harrow’s men keeping tabs?” wondered Layla, narrowing her eyes.

            “I don’t know. Could be,” said Marc warily.

            “Let’s go,” said Layla, turning towards the carnival. They needed to focus and get this done. The longer they waited, the closer to Ammit Harrow got. “Remember, Marc, your name is Rufino Estrada. (Y/N), your name is Mariana Estrada.”

            Like the Mariana Trench? (Y/N) was confused but nodded.

            “Right,” said Marc.

            “We just got back from a family vacation in the Maldives,” said Layla.

            (Y/N) flinched at the mention of family. The last time they had one…they lost everything. Still, part of them ached at the word, and they sat up straighter.

            “These are strange details to give them,” said Marc.

            “I’d tell them you worked at a gift shop and they were some random kid, but they’d never believe me, would they?” said Layla pointedly.

            The three approached the horse track, and a security guard approached.

            “Bek,” greeted Layla.

            “Layla,” said Bek, glancing at Marc and (Y/N).

            “It’s been a while. Good to see you,” said Layla.

            Bek nodded to her. “Right this way.”

            “Thank you,” said Layla, smiling.

            “He’s looking forward to seeing her,” said Bek as he guided them closer to the horse ring. “After Madripoor, I’m sure you two will have a lot to talk about.”

            Madripoor did have quite a few issues recently, thought (Y/N), reminiscing on the super-soldier serum reproduction and gunbattle that had gone down with, reportedly, Avengers.

            “Excuse me for one moment,” said Bek. “Mr. Mogart will be with you shortly.”

            He walked away, and Layla, Marc, and (Y/N) were left watching the men ride horses with lances.

            “So, what? This joker just puts on El-Mermah games in his backyard, for fun?” said Marc, unimpressed.

            “No, he gets private lessons by the best in his backyard,” said Layla.

            “Using money from trading what doesn’t belong to him,” murmured (Y/N).

            Bek approached one man, Mogart, and he descended from his horse. Bek placed a red robe around his shoulders, and Mogart smiled at the group across the track.

            “I like the robe,” muttered Marc.

            Lie. But (Y/N) didn’t need to be told that.

            “Layla,” called Mogart. “Come in.” He walked towards them, and the three came onto the track. “Such a delight to see you.”

            “You, too,” said Layla.

            Mogart took her hand and kissed the back. “How have you been?”

            “Good. Thank you for having us over on such short notice,” said Layla.

            “Oh, please. I hope you realize you need no excuse to drop by,” said Mogart.

            Ignoring us to flirt with Layla and annoy Marc. Is this a man thing? thought (Y/N).

            Layla patted Marc’s shoulder and smiled at (Y/N). “This is my husband, Rufino, and my step-kid, Mariana.”

            “Nice to meet you,” said Marc stiffly, sticking out his hand.

            “Pleasure,” said Mogart, refusing to shake it a moment before taking it to show who was in charge (again, men). He nodded to (Y/N). “Cute kid.”

            (Y/N) avoided eye-contact and nodded.

            “Come, follow me. I’ll show you my collection,” said Mogart, turning towards the pyramidal structures. “I hope you understand, though, that this is more than a collection for me. Preserving history is a responsibility I take very seriously.”

            Marc gave (Y/N) a pointed look to not say anything since they clearly thought differently about his habits and was about to speak way too honestly.

            “A self-appointed responsibility that you alone were able to enjoy, no?” Unfortunately, Marc had forgotten to make sure Layla wouldn’t say anything.

            “Well, as I prefer to see it as a philanthropic effort at preservation,” said Mogart. “Now, if I may ask, why such interest in Senfu in particular?”

            “Oh, actually, our purchases—”

            “I’m sorry.” Mogart interrupted Layla and looked at Marc and (Y/N). “I’d like to hear from your husband or stepchild, if you don’t mind.”

            Marc and Mogart stared at each other evenly, and Mogart crossed his arms.

            “I think…I would just love to take a look,” said Marc, not the best lie by a long shot.

            “I like learning about Egyptian history,” said (Y/N). “And this is a great opportunity.” Not a lie at all, both were true facts. However, (Y/N) wouldn’t be learning about history in general but in Ammit.

            Mogart looked between them and nodded. Gesturing to the pyramid behind him, he said, “Feel free.”

            “Great,” said Layla, smiling. She took his and (Y/N)’s arms and walked into the pyramid. Quietly, she whispered, “Marc, just let Steven out before you blow this.”

            “Not a chance.” Marc looked at the sarcophagus. “Alright, what do you see?”

            “The burial practices are in line with the Studenwachen texts,” said (Y/N).

            “The what?” said Marc.

            “You know those?” asked Layla.

            “Ma’at makes sure I know a lot about Egyptian history,” said (Y/N). And my parents taught me before her. “The sarcophagus is legit, but all I see is the literature to guide the dead. I don’t see a location for Ammit’s tomb.”

            “Because the information has to be unlocked.” Steven spoke, and (Y/N) and Marc glanced up to the reflection in the glass ceiling. “It’s coded.”

            “Okay, um…” Marc took a deep breath. “Will you give me a minute? I gotta talk to Steven. Just keep Mogart occupied, and don’t let (Y/N) speak, they can’t lie.”

            Layla looked at (Y/N) in confusion.

            “I really can’t,” said (Y/N) honestly.

            Taking a deep breath, Layla nodded. “Come on.” They stepped out of the glass pyramid and left Marc and Steven to figure out the mystery of Senfu’s sarcophagus.

            Layla smiled at Bek and Mogart. “He just needs a couple minutes in there alone ‘cause…yeah. He is…” She looked back and winced. Marc was clearly speaking inside the pyramid. “He’s praying.”

            Marc and Steven’s talk isn’t going well, thought (Y/N), frowning worriedly.

            “Is he reaching into the sarcophagus?” said Mogart, frowning.

            “I’m sure he isn’t,” said Layla, but Marc was, guided by Steven.

            “Bek,” said Mogart, narrowing his eyes.

            Bek walked towards the pyramid, and with his back turned, Marc didn’t see him coming. Bek touched his arm.

            “Hey, what are you—”

            On instinct, Marc whirled, grabbed Bek’s gun with the skill a common man shouldn’t have, and pointed it at the mercenary. Instantly, two other guards pulled out their guns and pointed at Marc, Layla, and (Y/N), ready at any instant to shoot any of them.

            “Marc. Don’t,” said Layla, glancing at the guards warily.

            “Shit.” Marc looked between Layla, (Y/N), and the guns trained on them.

            “Marc…” said (Y/N), swallowing, unsure.

            Marc’s eyes met theirs, and he let his grip on the gun loosen, handing it back to Bek and holding his hands up.

            They were trapped.

Taglist:

@jaytheaceenby

@severussimp

@dmitrytherat

@slytherinroyalty16

@grippleback-galaxy

@alexpangender

@thewittyfanficreader

@aew-kun-age-regression

@oscarissac2099

@amberforest08

@kyalov

@yyourmotherr

@im-making-an-effort

@the-toskaverse

@wra-1-th

[storyuntrue]

@threegoldfish: "...i swear i'm not crying , the sun's just bright !" (from Steven @ Layla and I hope thats ok lol, btw everything can be short & just going with the flow)

𝑬𝒚𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒔   𝒍𝒐𝒘   𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓   𝒉𝒆𝒓   𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔,  Layla   tried   to   make   sense   of   the   situation,   rapidly   blinking   at   the   sight   of   the   teary   eyed   man   in   front   of   her.   It’s   still   hard   for   her   to   wrap   her   mind   around   the   fact   that   this   was. . .   that   this   used   to   be   her   husband.   Still   was,   some   of   the   time,   apparently?   It’s   hard   to   understand;   thank   the   gods   she   didn’t   need   to   explain   it   to   someone   else.

“If   the   sun’s   hurting   your   eyes,   why   don’t   we   go   inside,   hm?”   A   tight   smile   makes   its   way   onto   her   lips,   and   Layla   turns   to   head   for   the   safe   house   even   before   she   gets   an   answer   from   Steven.   “We   shouldn’t   be   seen   out   in   the   public   anyways.”  

[marcspectvr]

Despite being considered boring by most, Steven was happy with his routine. He woke up, he got ready, he spent the day at work doing a job he typically enjoyed, and then came home, fed his fish, read some mythology books and attempted to sleep. It was working well for him, this new life he’d settled into in Alexandria. He called his mother about it daily, the messages he left her a way to ease his loneliness; that was the only problem he’d had thus far, alongside the sleepwalking. The rebels were so close, it wasn’t an easy barrier to break into, especially for someone who was relatively shy. But he was making progress, his experience as a sales assistant spouting the occasional good conversation. Because as guarded as they were, Steven didn’t deem any of them cruel. 

He was halfway through his shift, designated cashier today, when the woman approached him. Steven noticed how beautiful she was in an instant, stray curls falling over her tired eyes, and he swallowed hard, already feeling the embarrassment he was going to cause himself. “Oh, sorry. No. Name’s not Marc,” he gestured to his name badge, polite smile on his face. “Steven, actually. Believe it or not, it’s not the first time someone’s had a little mix up with me. Apparently I look like this Poe bloke. Dunno’ what that’s all about. ‘Don’t see it myself,” he admitted, laughing awkwardly at his own rambling. “Sorry. Anyway. Would you like me to scan your items through? We got some apples here, by the looks. Some rice…” 

Layla supposed she should’ve been grateful for the newfound quiet. With the Rebels’ victory a success, Panem was currently free from oppressive control. All that was left was making sure it stayed that way, and helping out the little man in the meantime. But Layla didn’t feel she had much of anything to offer anymore, completely drained. She’d not only lost her father, but her husband. If she didn’t still have her creed, she’d have nothing. That’s what had drawn her to Alexandria in the first place — loyalty for the one thing she had left. With all the ground work complete, Layla was left with little to do but observe and rest. But rest refused to come, sleepless nights drawing out her weeks, every day spent feeling restless and lonely. Today wasn’t any different. Exhausted, and low on food, she made her way to the grocery store. Routine was the only thing that gave her any energy anymore. But as she reached the checkout, Layla was thrown right out of her tired haze, inhaling sharply, the items she was holding falling from her grip. For staring right back at her was her husband. “Marc?” Her eyes bugged out of her head, feeling as if her heart had stopped dead. He was there. How was he there? “What the fuck?” She breathed, her heart unsure which emotion to settle on first.

[age-of-moonknight]

“Vengeance Never Dies,” Moon Knight: City of the Dead (Vol. 1/2023), #5.

Writer: David Pepose; Penciler: Marcelo Ferreira; Inker: Jay Leisten; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

[driedrosesandcherry]

SAINT. ྀིྀ☠︎︎ (african american) a cinephile that no longer uses letterboxd so I report to my bestfriends about everything I watch, bitter and umami favoritism, consuming media about cannibalism and/or vampires, gothic and dystopian films, springtime, snow leopards, the moon and almost anything related to it in media, reading novels and poetry, writing, mixing metals in jewelry/statement jewelry. All interactions will come from here.

favorite characters ✷

victoria neuman ⋆ claudia (2022–) ⋆ kaitlyn ka ⋆ marie moreau ⋆ aerith gainsborough ⋆ cat valentine ⋆ charlie bradbury ⋆ tashi duncan ⋆ annie (sinners, 2025) ⋆ miles morales ⋆ tifa lockhart ⋆ starfire ⋆ abigal blyg ⋆ deena johnson ⋆ isabel (bottoms, 2023) ⋆ layla el faouly ⋆ selina kyle ⋆ maren yearly ⋆ castiel ⋆ madeleine éparvier ⋆ moon knight ⋆ nightwing ⋆ louis de pointe du lac (2022–) ⋆ art donaldson ⋆ kimiko miyashiro ⋆ dina (tlou ii, 2020) ⋆ sydney adamu ⋆ verosha "osha" aniseya ⋆ clementine HONORABLE MENTIONS ఇ kirby, peter parker, emerald haywood, jordan li, gwen stacy (2012), chani kynes (dune, 2021), and snoopy!

favorite artists to frequent ✷

fleshwater ⋆ buck-tick ⋆ jeff buckley ⋆ kaytranada ⋆

cocteau twins ⋆ sade ⋆ donna summer ⋆ raveena ⋆ jenevieve ⋆

sumin ⋆ malice mizer ⋆ the marías ⋆ girl ultra ⋆ pinkpantheress ⋆

fiona apple ⋆ kate bush ⋆ amaarae ⋆ amy winehouse ⋆ yaeji ⋆

solange ⋆ fleetwood mac ⋆ yerin baek

favorite shows and films (as of May 2025) ✷

Cruel Summer, Black Mirror, The Bear, Hannibal, Panic, Interview With The Vampire, F1: Drive To Survive. ╱ Nosferatu (2024), Bones and All, Waves (2019), Everything Everywhere All at Once, Sinners (2025), Nope (2022).

[all-by-myself98]

Good evening!

We've pause your regularly scheduled programming to say that this fanfic blog is making a comeback...

Besties I'm aware that it's been like a couple years(???) since I've posted any oneshots or any kind of writing on this blog but listen in the wise words of the fanfic writers before me, my life has been crazy.

But I'm coming back! And I would love your help with getting started again! I already have some ways of getting myself started with ideas, but I would love your ideas too! Whether they're oneshots, headcanons, or just random ramblings that you want my thoughts on, I'm ready for it all and my ask box is looking mighty tempting, isn't it?

As I said before, I am open to oneshot requests and/or headcanon requests. Depending on how a oneshot is progressing, it may turn into a limited series, but that's just going to be based off of how much ideas I can wring out of one wet rag.

I am open to any of the Big Three: fluff, angst, and smut!

This also of course means...

NO MINORS INTERACTING WITH MY WORK, PLEASE AND THANK YOU!!! MDNI!!!

If you are a minor and you attempt to skirt around this rule and I find out, I'm literally wasting no time in adding you to my very empty blocked list. So maybe just don't try it?

Fandoms and characters I will write for:

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare (141 squad + König, Graves, Nikolai, Alex, Farah, & Laswell)

Marvel/MCU (the Moon Knight system, Layla El-Faouly, any member of Defenders including Frank Castle, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Pietro Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Miguel O'Hara, Hobie Brown, Logan Howlett, Victor Creed, Laura Kinney, Valkyrie)

DC (any members of batfam, Aquafam, Justice Society, Titans, and Suicide Squad)

Star Wars (any member of Bad Batch, Captain Rex, Commander Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, Din Djarin, Boba Fett, Jango Fett, Lando Calrissian, Poe Dameron, Finn)

Star Trek (Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Uhura, Captain or Admiral Pike)

Arcane: League of Legends (Silco, Viktor, Jayce, Vi, Sevika, Steb (YES, IM INCLUDING FISH MAN, DO NOT JUDGE ME HE WAS A CUTIE PIE))

Baldur's Gate 3 (Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Karlach, Laezel, Wyll, Rolan)

Other misc characters including but maybe not completely(?) limited to Riddick, Master Chief, Hellboy, Prince Nuada, Aemond Targaryen, Davos Blackwood, Tormund Giantsbane, Geralt of Rivia, Lambert, Elrond Peredhel (LOTR and TROP versions acceptable), and Sherlock Holmes (BBC and Netflix!Enola versions acceptable)

Again! This list could change! If it does change, I will edit this post, and then make an announcement of what my changes are, but this post will almost always be the best reference to find out what I'm writing or who I'm writing for!

Things I will not write:

Minors in sexual/smutty situations. They're either aged up or they're going in the trash, #sorrynotsorry

Pedophilia

Noncon

Hardcore stalking and/or harrassment

Physical and sexual abuse (unless it's like part of a character's backstory then it may be referenced, but I am not writing it out)

Anything else thats just. standard generic icks or no-nos. If you need clarification on something you're not sure I'm okay with, just ask

PSA: I am a white woman. The majority of my writings will be "x reader", and they will usually be fem!reader or afab!reader too, so if you wish for me to write for a gn!reader, please let me know in your request and I will honor that to the best of my ability!

I will also always try to be as vague as possible with other details such as race, hair color, eye color, etc., unless I happen to be writing an OC character with a specified appearance. But I imagine sometimes I'll make mistakes. I'll kick myself for it and I'll say sorry a million and one times, but it's almost inevitable and I'm an idiot and proofreading? whats that?? and I want to prepare you all now. And, if I do make a mistake, or if my writing ever seems to break that promise of being race vague, please let me know what I've done wrong and I will always try to alter what I can so everyone, regardless of what their race or appearance is, can feel welcome, accepted, and included in my writings!

Okay, you can all return to your regularly scheduled programming now :)

This is Renny signing off!

[silklies-moved]

she should know better than marc would never listen to her, khonshu and being moon knight would be more important. i'm not going to lie to you. how ironic considering he's lied to her multiple times. eyes shift down to look at her hands within his, feeling his warmth seeping into her. brows knit as she listens to him, part of her wants to walk off, leave him be to tend to himself but they needed to work on things. needed to work on their relationship. once upon a time they'd been happily married, but that was before finding out so many more things about marc.

❛ promising one thing doesn't mean much when you can't even promise to be careful. what if one of these days you get hurt and khonshu can't help you ? ❜ gently, she takes her hands away from his, taking a step back and attempting to steady her breathing. ❛ you baffle me marc, do you really want to get hurt that bad ? to die ? ❜ her frustrations start to build up, all things she's been holding down, trying not to explode on him but she can't anymore. it needed to be let out. ❛ you've already died once, i can't lose you again. but i guess that isn't important, no, it's always being this ... soldier for that stupid god. ❜

It doesn't take a genius to know that she's upset with him. When Layla was mad, she would let her irritation show in other ways than simply yelling at him. Marc's back is facing her, so he grimaces a bit when she starts to chide him. " I wasn't, " he confesses. " I got... carried away. " Carried away is one way of putting it, you barmy git. Steven decides to chip in on the matter, chastising him as well. Marc rolls his eyes. Why don't you ever listen, mate? Is it really that hard?

He sighs and turns to face Layla, taking her hands in his once she's put the needle away. " I'm sorry. But I can't promise it won't happen again. I'm not going to lie to you and say that, because I care about you too much to hurt you like that. " So saying it will happen again and completely ignoring your wife's wishes is gonna help? God, he was stupid. But there was time to beat himself up later. " I can promise you that I will listen to you more, though. "

[tom-whore-dleston]

In honor of hitting another milestone, I wanna spend some time with all my besties. Whether you have been here since my Hiddles days or if you just now making yourself comfy in my little space in the tumblrverse, I am grateful for every single one of you and I hope we get to have some fun and share our love for fandoms ❤️

For more information on activities to look forward to, click the Keep Reading feature 🪴

Dates: Monday, May 22 - Sunday, May 28

Rules:

Please do not interact if you are a minor, blank or ageless blog

Any asks from a minor, blank or ageless blog will be denied and blocked

This celebration is open to followers and non-followers 

There is no limit to how many asks you send but I ask that you please send one at a time

Please be patient with your response. I cannot guarantee I will respond in a timely manner however I can do my best. 

I reserve the right to deny or ignore any asks that I do not feel comfortable with or do not vibe with*. It’s nothing against you, I want to be able to protect my own peace.

Asks:

Personals: ask me anything about me and  my life on/off tumblr

Promos: share one of your creations (fanfic, art, moodboard, gif, playlist, original writing) and I will help spread the word about your amazing talents

Games: cym, fmk, wyr, smash or pass (with any hottie not listed)

Creations: select a hottie + scenario/AU/trope/prompt** and I will a playlist/moodboard/fic (please specify the creation you are requesting)

Mutuals only: send me your fave hottie (doesn’t need to be on list) and I will create a ship moodboard based on how I imagine your relationship with them

All the Hotties: 

My AUs

Adam Warlock x f. reader (Like Real People Do)

Fictional

Marvel

Adam Warlock

Joaquin Torres

Layla El-Faouly

Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley

Gamora

Star Wars

Din Djarin

Poe Dameron

Anakin Skywalker

Other

Joel Miller

Real life

Danny Ramirez

Will Poulter

Harry Styles

*Unapproved Topics:

water sports

scat play

blood play

underage

incest

step-cest 

non-con

weapon play

a/b/o

bestiality

kids/pregnancy 

abuse of any kind

**Prompts:

Smut

Fluff

Shameless plug tags: @yummymatcha @neganwifey25-blog @wint3r-h3art @crazycookiecrumbles @buckybleu @inklore @fluffyprettykitty @psychedelic-ink @give-me-a-moose @mothdruid @hollandparkersx @frying-panties @buckets-and-trees @blackbat05