#khonshu x teen!reader

[80pairsofcrocs]

baby scarab || 68

A/N - so we are traveling the multiverse...

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

A/N : i dont deserve you guys omg, i have missed you all so so much <3

please enjoy, and don't be shy if you want to be in the taglist, just ask <3, sorry for the long wait

pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic) reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader, jake lockley x (platonic)reader, casper hart(OC) x reader

TW : medicine (pills), spidey stuff, mentions of violence, language, multiverse nonsense, nothing makes sense, let me know if i missed anything

~~~

You stand there, feeling the weight of the revelation pressing down on your chest like a leaden anchor. The flickering torches in the temple cast shadows that dance ominously on the walls, echoing your tumultuous thoughts. Khonshu's intense gaze feels almost judgmental, stirring the pot of your frustration further. 

Taweret attempts to soothe the growing storm within you, but it’s like trying to calm a tempest with a whisper. You can’t shake the idea from your mind—that maybe, just maybe, you were the reason for their sudden departure.

“Perhaps you should consider the circumstances,” Khonshu interjects, his voice deep and resonant, but this only amplifies your resentment. “Marc is caught in a cycle he cannot control. He fears for your safety.” 

Your heart aches at the mention of your dad, the man who fought every monster and shadow for your sake. But this very fight had carved lines of darkness into his spirit, and it’s painful to comprehend that your absence may have been the tipping point. Suddenly, anxiety surges, and you feel a tightening in your throat. “But I’m here! I could’ve helped! I could’ve been there for him!”

Taweret’s eyes soften, and for a moment, the ancient deity feels like the most compassionate of friends rather than a divine entity. “Your love is powerful, dear child. But know that sometimes, those we love carry burdens we cannot lift for them.” Her words settle over you, both comforting and challenging, a reminder that there are things even hugs and reassurances cannot mend.

In that moment, you resolve to take action—not out of anger, but out of a desire to bridge the gap. 

“I need to talk to them,” you declare, your voice steadier than you feel. “I’ll figure out a way to reach them in America, to remind them they are not alone.” As you turn to Khonshu and Taweret, determination ignites a new fire in your chest. “They may need help, but so do I. If they can leave, then I can go to them.” 

The ancient gods exchange glances, and for an instant, you see admiration flickering in Khonshu’s steadfast eyes, while Taweret nods earnestly. Maybe, just maybe, you have inherited more than the resilience of a warrior. 

You have inherited the strength to face the unknown, to connect the strings of love that bind your fractured family, and to affirm what you know deep down: love, even amid chaos, endures.

~~~

As Marc and Layla continued to navigate the strange streets of Chicago, an unsettling chill settled in the air, creeping beneath their skin. Shadows stretched and contorted against the fading sunlight, creating a canvas of anxiety that whispered of something ominous lurking just out of sight. 

With every step, Marc felt the ripples of his own doubts and fears pooling in his chest—fears that had crept up on him since they'd crossed into this unfamiliar dimension. He glanced at Layla, and the concern etched across her features ignited a spark within him—the need to protect her—yet he was plagued by uncertainty. “What if we don’t find our way back?” he muttered, mostly to himself.

When they reached a small park blanketed in fallen leaves, the atmosphere shifted. The silence was suffocating as if the world had held its breath. Layla’s grip tightened around Marc’s hand, the warmth of her presence a fragile tether to reality. 

“Something is definitely wrong,” she reiterated, her voice low and urgent. “I can feel it.” With a sudden resolve, she turned to face him, her eyes aflame with determination. “We need to get to the bottom of this. If Taweret isn’t responding, there’s a chance the balance is utterly thrown off. We can’t stay idle. What if this is connected to y/n?”

Marc swallowed hard, the pang of his daughter’s name igniting fresh worry within him. “You know, I tried to reach her too—with no success.” He looked down the dimming path, frustration churning in his gut. 

“Do you think… could something have happened to her? To us? What if our absence has left something open, something we can’t see?” He felt a deep unease settling in, rooted in the idea that their family—his family—was teetering on the edge without them, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out.

Just as the thoughts darkened, a flicker of movement caught Marc’s eye—a figure darting behind a tree, obscured by the evening haze. Heart racing, he pointed it out to Layla. “Did you see that?” The air felt electric, charged with an anticipatory energy that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. 

He took a cautious step forward, trying to distinguish friend from foe, but before he could act, a low, guttural growl reverberated through the quiet, wrapping around them like a noose. The shadows deepened as if mocking their cautious exploration, and Marc was suddenly struck by an overwhelming certainty: they were not alone. 

In that moment, he understood the truth of their predicament. This wasn’t just a wrong turn or a simple dimensional hiccup. Something sinister awaited them, a force that sensed their vulnerability. Whatever had drawn them into this realm had its very own agenda, and with every tick of the clock, Marc felt an impending disaster lurking just beyond the fading light—a disaster that could tear his family apart for good. 

Desperation surged through him; he needed to act swiftly.  And with that realization, something primal awakened within him—a determination to fight, not just for their return, but for every second they might lose if they didn’t escape the shadows looming closer with every passing breath.

“Is that…?” Layla asks, holding Marc’s hand a little tighter. 

“It can’t be…”

It was him. 

Arthur Harrow… but he wasn’t alone. 

You were with him.

“You’re not our y/n… you can’t be—where are we?!” Marc demands to know, stepping in front of Layla protectively. His heart races as the weight of two worlds collides, an unsettling blend of familiarity and disarray swirling around them. 

The distorted lighting of the dimly lit alley distorted the figures before them, casting eerie shadows that danced against the cracked brick walls like specters of the past.

A smirk curls on Harrow’s lips, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mix of triumph and pity. “Ah, Marc, dear boy. You don’t recognize your own memories? This is a realm woven from the threads of what could have been—a universe where Y/N chose a different path.” He gestures toward you, and for the first time, the sight of you sends a shiver down Marc's spine. 

The way you stand beside Harrow, seemingly at ease, ignites a flicker of doubt. Had you truly turned against them, or was there something darker lurking beneath the surface, a manipulation lurking just out of sight?

“Y/N…no,” Layla whispers, her voice trembling with disbelief as she studies your expression, desperately searching for the essence of the person they had loved and relied on. But the aura radiating from you and Harrow felt foreign, and yet unnervingly familiar. “What have you done?” Her gaze flickers to Harrow, her mind racing to the implications of this twisted reality. 

The air thickens, heavy with an unspoken challenge as you step forward, your eyes glinting with a strange resolve that neither Marc nor Layla had ever witnessed. “This is not about what I’ve done,” you assert, each word deliberate as if unveiling a hidden truth. “This is about what you both failed to see—the potential of embracing darkness to create light.”

Marc takes a step back, a whirlwind of emotions crashing through him. Letting go of Layla’s hand feels unthinkable, yet the pull of your magnetic presence is both unsettling and irresistible. What you appear to offer—the chance to rewrite fate—thrums in the depths of his mind. Time slows as he balances between the echoes of shared laughter and the specters of past choices—a disparate motif drumming a chaos only he seems to feel. 

In that moment, reality feels as if it's splitting at the seams, inviting them to ponder a question that they could have never prepared for: Was the path to salvation more than just battles fought in the shadows, and was it perhaps hidden in the embrace of the very darkness they fought against?

~~~

Meanwhile as you had gone and asked for help, reaching out to Peter with the situation, telling you he knew a guy, you found yourself standing nervously in front of the London sanctum. Peter had assured you he could assist, emphasizing the importance of not messing up the mysterious ritual. 

Gently, you knocked on the imposing giant doors, watching in awe as they opened slowly on their own, almost beckoning you inside. Taking a cautious look around, you entered the building at a deliberate pace, the doors closing with a resounding thud behind you. As your eyes wandered around the grand interior, a man clad in a blue suit and a striking red cape floated gracefully down the staircase. 

"Y/n y/l/n, I anticipated your arrival," he addressed you, standing a few feet away. Anxious to get answers, you anxiously started, "So... you can help me? Where are my parents?" The man raised a hand to signal for quiet, interrupting your inquiry. 

"First, there's something you must understand – your parents are not within this realm," he disclosed cryptically. Stunned, you stammered, "What? No greeting, no introduction?" Irritated, he rolled his eyes before speaking with a touch of sarcasm, "Stephen Strange. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

“Yeah okay- obviously you know who I am already, so just tell me how I can bring them back,” you demand, the urgency evident in your voice as you take another determined step closer. 

“It’s not that simple. Without knowing where exactly they are, we won’t know where to go,” Stephen explains, his tone tinged with a mixture of compassion and practicality.

“Then find out!” Your impatience boils over, the desperation to reunite with your missing parents fueling your outburst. “They are my parents- I need them back!”

Stephen sighs, a shared sense of understanding passing between you both. “I empathize with your situation but it’s just not that simple. After I open the portal, you’ll need to navigate through the unknown to locate the universe they inhabit and then safely return here.”

You shift your weight impatiently, resolve shining in your eyes as you respond without hesitation, “I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring them back.”

Stephen arches an eyebrow, recognizing the unwavering determination in your gaze. Leading you towards a separate chamber, he prepares you for the challenges ahead. “It won’t be an easy journey. There will be sights that may haunt you. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I've already witnessed my biological father rising from the dead; I believe I can handle whatever lies ahead,” you assure him confidently, the memory of that astonishing event reinforcing your brave front.

Nodding at your resolve, Stephen gestures grandly, conjuring a mesmerizing display of orange and yellow sparks that converge to form a shimmering portal. As the portal expands to human-sized proportions, he steps back, the preparation complete.

Handing you a sleek triangular device, he cautions, “After you locate your parents, ensure that all of you touch this device and press the button simultaneously. It will transport you back through the portal to safety here.”

Gratefully accepting the device, you secure it in your jacket pocket, the weight of the mission ahead settling on your shoulders. “Thank you,” you express sincerely.

“Don’t mention it,” Stephen replies casually, motioning towards the now-glowing portal. ��Good luck on your interdimensional journey, arachnid.”

Stepping resolutely into the portal, you pause, surprised by the revelation of your alter ego that Stephen casually drops. “Um, thanks for the support.”

With a nod of acknowledgment, you take the final step into the unknown, ready to traverse the intricate web of the multiverse in pursuit of your beloved parents.

~~~

Back with Marc and Layla, the tension in the room thickened as Steven and Jake continued to remain mysteriously absent, granting Marc full dominion over the body. This newfound authority weighed heavily on Marc, visible in the way his shoulders tensed and his every movement exuded uncertainty.

The second y/n, her laughter ringing ominously through the air, moved closer towards the bewildered couple. A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she taunted Marc Spector, a name from a past that now seemed distant and yet hauntingly familiar. "I never thought I'd witness that look of disbelief on your face again, Marc Spector. Not since the day I extinguished your life," she chuckled darkly, twirling a dagger nonchalantly in her hand.

The widening eyes of Marc and Layla betrayed their escalating horror as the truth unfolded before them. "You... we... we're deceased in this realm? You ended my life?!" Marc's voice quivered with a blend of fear and disbelief, his world shattering into a million fractured pieces.

"It was a simple feat. You were so naïve, so easily deceived. Even Steven and Jake fell into my trap without a hint of suspicion," the mysterious figure, now identified as Harrow, reassured with a cold grip on the other y/n's shoulder. "Now, Khonshu and the others bow to my will - a reality beyond your grasp." Her laughter, tinged with madness, echoed hauntingly in the confined space, sending shivers down Layla's spine.

Layla, her voice laced with urgency and desperation, stepped forward in a bid to plead for reason. "Please, think about this. We are not meant to linger here. Allow us the chance to find our way back to where we belong."

Dismissing Layla's plea with a disdainful scoff, the other y/n's gaze darkened with a resolute finality. "This is not a dilemma we concern ourselves with. This time, the veil between life and death shall not be breached again," she stated coldly, her eyes narrowing as Harrow silently signaled permission for a potentially fatal encounter.

The impending danger loomed menacingly as Harrow's chilling smile and the ominous words she imparted to the other y/n set the stage for a confrontation that could tilt the scales of fate irreversibly. "Show them no mercy," instructed Harrow, the weight of her authority palpable in those words.

The other y/n, bearing the weight of a deeply woven past and an uncertain future, responded to Harrow's command with a stoic assurance. "As you wish, father," she affirmed, her resolve unwavering as she prepared to execute a fate that could seal the doomed couple's existence in the enigmatic realm they were trapped in.

~~~

You blink a few times as you enter the new world, the unfamiliar surroundings painting a scene of wonder and intrigue before you. 

Looking around the building you’re in, your eyes linger on the intricate design of the architecture, the way the light filters in from the skylights above casting patterns on the floor beneath your feet. Your breath catches at the grandeur of it all, a whispered "woah" escaping your lips as you try to take it all in.

Taking a few hesitant steps forward, your senses are overloaded with the sights and sounds of this strange place. A low hum fills the air as a floating platform descends gracefully from the tall opening in the ceiling, the soft glow of its runes illuminating the space around you. On the platform, you spot a man standing tall, his expression a mix of curiosity and bemusement as he gazes down at you. 

Beside him stands another figure, much smaller in stature but no less intriguing, their eyes fixed on you with a mixture of wariness and fascination. As you stand there, the weight of the unknown pressing in around you, you can't help but feel a sense of exhilaration mingled with trepidation. 

"Dad..? Is that you?" you called out eagerly, your heart racing with anticipation as the platform steadily approached. Drawing nearer, a mixture of hope and doubt churned within you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. 

However, as the figure on the approaching platform became clearer, revealing features that bore no resemblance to your father, a wave of disappointment washed over you.

"Do I look like your dad?" he asks sarcastically, a playful glint in his eye, as you shake your head in response. Meanwhile, the tiny floating woman, with her ethereal presence, seems to defy the laws of physics by almost teleporting right into your face. Startled, you take a step back, a mix of surprise and intrigue dancing in your eyes.

"Aww! Look how cute she is!" the tiny woman exclaims, her voice overflowing with a sense of wonder and delight. As she gushes over your mystical visitor, golden sparks of pure magic emanate from her essence, casting a mesmerizing glow around her petite form.

"Uh.. weird question-“ you start to ask tentatively, your words trailing off as the weight of the larger man's presence fills the small space around you. His stern demand to "Zip it" echoes in the cramped room, silencing any further inquiries for the moment. As you gather your thoughts under the intensity of his gaze, you can't help but feel a knot of apprehension tighten in your gut.

"How’d you find this place?” The larger man steps off the platform, stopping maybe a foot away from you, his navy and red suits boots creaking slightly under his weight as he gazes down at you with a discerning look etched across his weathered face. 

As you stood there in the dimly lit room, a sense of urgency tugged at your heartstrings. "I'm just looking for my dad, man," you uttered softly, the words hanging heavy in the air.

"Did Peter B recruit you?” He asks, his voice laced with an undertone of suspicion as he eyed you intently, searching for any subtle signs of betrayal in your expression.

"Who?" you ask innocently, feigning ignorance to mask the rapid beating of your heart that threatened to give away your ruse.

The man’s body tenses almost imperceptibly at your response, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before the smooth mask of his suit shifts in a mechanical motion to cover his face. The sudden movement sends a shiver down your spine, a silent warning that you were playing a dangerous game with dangerous people.

"Whoa, dude, can you please calm down? I assure you, I have no intention of causing any harm." Your voice wavers slightly as you instinctively raise your hands up as a gesture of surrender before the intense situation.

Observing your reaction, he tilts his head in curiosity, taking a step closer, while the small floating woman, who seems to possess a wisdom beyond her appearance, chooses this moment to interject. "Miguel, come on, ease up a bit. Can't you see that shes, like, a child? There's no need for the gwumpy face,” she remarks, crossing her arms in a display of playfully authoritative posture.

As you press the intricate button on your ring with a sense of familiarity, you feel a rush of anticipation building up within you. The signal triggers a swift and elegant transformation process, like a metallic dance enveloping your body. 

The special material of your spider suit elegantly molds itself around you, its unique design serving both form and function. Ensuring every crevice fits snugly and each joint moves with precision, you witness the suit's shimmering surface gleaming in the dim light.

In response to your transformation, the man known only as Miguel reacts with a subtle yet noticeable gesture, raising an eyebrow beneath the mysterious cover of his mask. Slowly, deliberately, he strides toward you with an air of confidence, his movements calculated and purposeful. The space between you diminishes until you can feel the solid wall pressing against your back, a physical barrier raising your awareness.

“Tell me how you found us,” he orders, his tone firm and commanding. “Now,” he demands, his eyes piercing and unwavering.

"Listen, Miguel," you begin nervously, your voice quivering slightly. "I'm just trying to find my dad," you explain, a hint of desperation creeping into your tone.

“Well, he’s not here,” Miguel interrupts abruptly, his expression hardened, leaving no room for negotiation.

As you process his words, a flood of emotions washes over you. Disappointment, frustration, and a lingering sense of determination swirl within you. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before responding.

"Then I'll be on my way," you assert calmly, despite the turmoil swirling inside you.

"You know where the spider society is, I'm afraid you can't leave just yet,” he says sternly as his mask slides back into place, hiding the intensity of his gaze. He watches you intently, unyielding in his stance.

You begin to assure him, “I'm not going to tell anyone about this, I promise—" but he cuts you off, his voice unwavering, “We can't trust that—trust you to keep this secret safe.” 

"Just let her go, Miguel," the small woman interrupted, her voice tinged with a sense of urgency as she hovered by Miguel's shoulder. Your exasperated sigh filled the tense air, a subtle indicator of your frustration in the face of this unexpected encounter.

"I'm not from this universe; I'm simply navigating my way back to my parents," you explained, your tone pleading for understanding. 

Miguel's focused gaze remains fixed on you as he calmly reaches out to operate a button situated on his sleek desk, instantly deactivating the petite woman standing nearby with a swift motion. His mask smoothly slides back into place, concealing any hint of emotion on his stoic face.

Within the blink of an eye, he lunges aggressively towards you, his hands grabbing your shoulders with a forceful grip before deftly spinning you around and forcefully pressing your back against the cold, forbidding wall.

Reacting swiftly and instinctively, you adeptly duck and drop to the ground, maneuvering out of his grasp just in time to evade the sharp, menacing claws that scrape menacingly against the protective metal surface of your suit.

With skilled agility, you roll skillfully out from under his towering figure as he whirls around in search of apprehending you again, his intent clear in his predatory movements, poised for another attempt to capture you. In your hands, you deftly produce the invaluable portal device, a powerful tool that may be your key to escape or turn the tables in this tense confrontation.

Miguel's swift and aggressive move caught you off guard as he tackled you to the floor, causing your grip to loosen and the device slipped out of your hand, falling with a clatter. Your immediate protest was cut short by his forceful action as he hoisted you up by your arm, his grip a vice as he pushed you back against the unyielding wall. 

The word "stay" was a command that brooked no defiance, echoing with a threatening undertone that sent shivers down your spine.

As Miguel turned away, a surge of adrenaline propelled you into action, your instincts screaming at you to seize the opportunity to escape. You slipped away noiselessly, stealthily retrieving the precious device, your fingers trembling slightly with a mix of fear and determination. The button under your touch felt both familiar and alien, a key to another reality beckoning with unknown possibilities.

With a quick press, the device came to life, emitting a soft hum that seemed to vibrate in tune with the escalating beating of your heart. The split-second decision had been made, and as the world around you shimmered and twisted, Miguel's approaching footsteps were the last evidence of the reality you left behind.

One universe down.. many more to go.

~~~

In the alternate reality, where the version of 'you' present had decidedly not shown mercy towards Marc and Layla, an intense confrontation unfolded. Jake found himself in a pressing situation where he had to take command of the shared body to thwart the aggressive actions of the other 'you' without causing significant harm. 

This pivotal event took place just a mere hour in the past, yet its repercussions and the adrenaline of the moment still lingered in the cramped surroundings of their hideout.

Currently seeking refuge inside a nondescript gas station, Jake and Layla tried to find a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos. The air was heavy with tension as they sipped on the subpar coffee available at the establishment, the bitter liquid providing a stark contrast to the bitter circumstances surrounding them. 

Despite the apparent calmness that now enveloped the space they were in, both Layla and Jake knew that danger still lurked just beyond the walls of their temporary sanctuary. Each sip of coffee served as a bitter reminder of the harrowing events that had transpired, emphasizing the need for them to remain vigilant and stay on guard. 

Jake's frantic pacing came to a halt as he voiced his inner turmoil, feeling the weight of responsibility for Y/N's safety pressing down on him. "What do we do?" he questioned, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. The thought of leaving Y/N alone in an unknown place gnawed at his conscience, clouding his mind with worry.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Jake's nerves became apparent through his restless rambling, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. Layla, recognizing the unease plaguing Jake, reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. Her touch, warm and reassuring, offered a sense of solace amidst the chaos that swirled around them.

“We can't just leave Y/N behind. How are we going to make it back?” Jake's words revealed the depth of his concern, his eyes darting around in search of a solution to their predicament. The uncertainty of their situation loomed large, casting a shadow over their plans and testing their resolve.

Layla's soothing response broke through the fog of doubt that clouded Jake's mind, her voice calm and steady as she assured him, “We'll find a way back, and I'm certain that Y/N is capable enough to handle whatever comes her way. She's a strong, capable young woman, and we have to trust in her strength."

Jake, feeling a surge of gratitude for Layla's unwavering support, let her words wash over him, a beacon of hope in the midst of uncertainty. The weight of responsibility began to lift slightly from his shoulders as he absorbed her calm reassurances, a glimmer of optimism shining through the darkness of doubt.

“I know. you're.. right,” Jake acknowledged, his voice softer now, tinged with a sense of relief. Running a hand wearily down his face, he exhaled heavily, a semblance of peace settling upon him. In Layla's presence, he found a sense of clarity and comfort, her unwavering belief in their ability to overcome obstacles serving as a guiding light in their journey back to safety.

Layla let out a gentle sigh, her brows furrowed with genuine concern as she inquired, "And how about the others? Are they doing alright?" Her voice held a note of apprehension, betraying her worry for the well-being of their companions.

Jake gave a slight nod, his expression grave yet reassuring. "They seem to have settled down for now. It might be best if they stay put for a while," he remarked, his hand mimicking a tear sliding down his cheek as he referenced Steven without directly naming him. The gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air, palpable in his somber demeanor.

In response, Layla let out a soft chuckle, her laughter mingling with a hint of fond exasperation. "Don't be too hard on him," she chided gently, her words laced with empathy. 

"It's perfectly natural to feel overwhelmed and show emotion in times like these-“ Her gaze softened as she defended Steven, a touch of understanding in her voice that spoke volumes about her compassionate nature towards their friend's vulnerability.

"He cries at movies," Jake cuts her off with a chuckle, his eyes glistening as he recalls the emotional scenes that always tug at his heartstrings.

"So do I," Layla replies, her voice warm and understanding, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. She mirrors Jake's gestures, placing her hands on her hips in solidarity.

Jake, ever the skeptic, rolls his eyes at Layla's response, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he dismisses her comments. Their banter is light-hearted and filled with shared moments of teasing and laughter.

"We’ll be okay," she assures him with a gentle smile, her expression filled with a comforting warmth that enveloped them both. Her eyes sparkled with a glimmer of hope, sending a silent reassurance to Jake. It was a small gesture, but it carried a weight of sincerity that eased the tension in the air.

Jake, catching her gaze, felt a sense of calm wash over him. He recognized the unspoken promise in her eyes, a promise of unwavering support and solidarity. Somehow, her simple words held a profound significance, grounding him amidst the uncertainty of the moment.

With a subtle nod, Jake acknowledged her words, his own silent agreement reflecting in his eyes. It was a mutual understanding that transcended spoken language, a shared belief in their ability to weather whatever challenges lay ahead.

In that fleeting moment of connection, they found solace in each other's presence, drawing strength from the unspoken bond between them. It was a poignant reminder of the power of human connection, of the comfort that can be found in a shared smile and a knowing look.

And as they faced the unknown future together, they held onto that shared assurance, a simple yet profound declaration that echoed in their hearts: "We’ll be okay."

~~~

A/N - OOPS CLIFFHANGER!!!!! next part out hopefully by NOVEMBER 25th!!! i love you all so much, i cant wait to see feedback on the new writing style and about the story :)

~~~

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[justafanficwriter]

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬

—

�� 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐭 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 [𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠]

➤ 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐲 : @dindjarindiaries

Pairing[s] : Din Djarin [The Mandalorian] & Foundling!Reader [Gender Neutral]

Summary : When the streets of Nevarro can no longer satisfy your desires for adventure and belonging, you run headfirst into the Mandalorian — taking you on a journey that will change the two of you forever.

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➾ 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 [𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠]

➤ 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐲 : @dumbbitchenergy17

Pairing[s] : Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Summary : A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers with an undiscovered lineage. An unlikely group to travel the galaxy together.

—

➾ 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛 - 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 [𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠]

➤ 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐲 : @80pairsofcrocs

Pairing[s] : Steven Grant x [Platonic] Reader, Marc Spector x [Platonic] Reader, Jake Lockley x [Platonic] Reader, & Khonshu x [Platonic] Reader

Summary : In which a schizophrenic teenager could see a certain god.

—

➾ 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 [𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠]

➤ 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐲 : @yikesitskennawrites

Pairing[s] : Steven Grant x [Platonic] Reader, Marc Spector x [Platonic] Reader, Jake Lockley x [Platonic] Reader, & Layla El Faouly x [Platonic] Reader

Summary : You moved to London after you came back from the blip a year ago. You moved for a new change and a fresh start. Everything was going swell until you nearly get mugged and your strange neighbor is the one to save you. Now, you have the opportunity to learn about the man who has peaked your interest over the past couple of weeks; you’re going to do exactly that.

—

➾ 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 - 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 [𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠]

➤ 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐲 : @l3m0ncyan

Pairing[s] : Steven Grant / Marc Spector x Hispanic!Teen!Reader

Summary : Moving from California to London in order to attend her dream school, Y/N L/N has to get used to the different climate and culture. Thinking it would only be her against the city, her across-the-hall neighbor helps her not only unlock her door but to get used to England. With things seeming well, a huge turn in both their lives happens and new secrets come out. Also, now it turns out Y/N has to help her neighbor save the world with the help of a moon god.

[crystalaris]

Please Don't Hate Me!

(Moon knight x Reincarnated teen Reader)

Marc Spector carries a lot of Secrets that more often than not get him into a world of trouble. Turns out his kid might have more than he does.

Poor Layla , she didn't sign up for this

In other words:

In a world where a person from our world reincarnates into moon knight and they Really, Really love their big family

Disclaimer: I do not own Moon Knight or the photos (I do edit the photos, but they are not mine)

Ch 1

Ch 2

Ch 3: You're in Deep Shit Marc Spector

Warning: mentions of depression and someone passing out,

also Layla steals the show, good for her

———

Loud, constant clacking filled the dimming room as a woman with long, dark, curly hair sat at her desk typing away with a harsh, but determined look.

She was frustrated, royally pissed, but most of all, Layla was worried.

Her baby girl, yes hers.

Marc had left, leaving divorce papers a few weeks after his disappearance, sure they were unsigned, but she didn't care!

He. Left!

He has no right to say he cares!

He. Has. No. Fucking Right.

Marc Left.

And it tore her baby girl apart.

It tore her heart as well, but that she can handle.

She can be wounded, she can bleed till her last drop and she will still be able to move. It would be hard but she can get up and try again. It would take time and she would have to learn to trust again, but she could, would heal.

But watching her baby girl fall apart?

Literally fall apart, piece by piece?

That was the kicker.

The Final straw.

That was Marc stabbing her, them, in the back.

Layla had already lost her father, she can't help her wish to know how or why, but she could live.

She had met Marc, got married, and had a sweet baby girl. In a way she moved past her father's death.

She had a family of her own.

HAD!

Marc stole that from her!

Stole her new family! He ripped them apart viciously by leaving!

Of course she's livid!

Her sweet little baby girl nearly cried that first week that had gone by with absolutely no word from Marc.

At first, she thought he was on another one of Khonshu's missions. Sometimes they ran long. Normally it was no big deal. Sure, it was odd he hadn't said anything before leaving, but she understood how demanding that god could be. There were multiple talks and rants, the frustration with that topic alone could topple mountains.

So she had understood.

Key word, had.

Watching the frown appear on her daughters face when Layla said papa went on a trip was worrying, but not enough to draw Layla's attention.

Not yet, at the very least.

But when the week finished up and there were still no signs of Marc? Layla started to worry.

Worry that Marc was dead, long gone to a place neither could reach.

There is a saying that 'no news is good news'.

It's a Lie.

'No news' is Worse.

It's no wonder 'Hope' was in Pandora's box.

'No news' leaves you wondering what happened, how it happened, maybe even why. But you hold on to that hope, no matter how small. You pray nothing has gone wrong, every single day. You wait, holding your breath, 'One more day' you'll chant. 'I'll find out tomorrow' but when tomorrow comes? It's the exact same thing, making your worry and dread grow till eventually it slowly becomes a crushing weight. Hope, once an ally, has become the backstabber, the taunter, the solid boulder. It drives you crazy with 'what ifs'.

'No news' can mean so much more.

And it drags on in the most torturous of ways.

So when Marc didn't check in like normal, didn't warn her about the silence required on his mission, to keep them safe, she started to worry.

But their daughter, her little treasure who has fiercely loved her father for all these years, seemed to have noticed as well.

Layla never really knew just how much their baby girl paid attention to their comings and going. Honestly, she would have been impressed if those observations hadn't bothered her baby girl.

It had started small enough, a meal missed here, another skipped there. Her little girl sleeping in their bedroom, sometimes stealing some of Marc's shirts, the dirty shirts.

Layla didn't have the heart to scold her after the fourth time, not after that heartbreaking mumbled apology. She can't help but wonder where she learned those puppy dog eyes.

Not when Layla realized she hadn't seen her little girl in days.

Her child who would rather play outside with her father insread of watching a movie or play video games seemed to hide behind them now, almost obsessively. Layla's daughter Refusing to ride or even look at the swings, or anything that had to do with her activities with Marc. The tree he had caught her in was empty except for the leaves. The couch where she always slept on top of Marc now sat empty. The blanket now moved to the recliner. Touch no longer seemed to sooth her little girl.

The little hugger of the family just... seemed to ghost around the house.

The girl that would sing random songs while she baked family and friends treats, barely opened her mouth after the third week.

That finally snapped Layla out of it, enough to try ring Marc.

Good news, his phone went through.

Bad news, the asshole refused to pick up.

Oh, she didn't call him an asshole the first time she called, nor the second. But after the 54th call, 46 messages and 0 answers? Well, she naturally grew pissed.

Her messages started off sweet and worried, asking him when he'll be home, to, at the very least just let them know he's safe and that they miss him.

Then she started begging Marc to come home, their baby girl had passed out a d the doctor said it was from forgetting to eat.

That was the first and last time, for both her daughter and herself. Her baby girl now set timers to remember to eat and that message was the last time she begged Marc to come home.

He didn't care enough to come home, or he didn't care enough to listen. She didn't know which outcome was Marc's issue.

It didn't matter. He'd spectacularly burned that bridge.

At this point in time, it was more a matter of pride. She wanted to find Marc to drag answers out of that dick. And if he didn't have a good reason, even if he did, he would be toast. His answer would determine the level of burning she would do, if her daughter didn't do it first.

She could be quite vindictive when she felt it was necessary.

Layla was relieved when her baby came home from the sanctum one weekend with a massive smile on her face and an apology for worrying her mother on her lips. They had two long girls' day and spent those next two nights together.

Layla never asked what made her little treasure so happy. Too relieved that she had a better part of her daughter back.

Oh, her little girl was still sad, but not nearly to the extreme she was prior. Maybe she finally found a boyfriend at school or maybe she got a new friend. Layla had seen her little treasure wearing a small, thin red and gold bracelet with a small sapphire gem braided in as the master piece.

Layla hoped it was from a friend and not a lover. She didn't want to see her little girl that broken ever again.

If her father could cripple her, what would a lover do?

So Layla was relieved to see her daughter back on the swings, not as often as she had before, but it was enough.

So with one more thing settled, she could focus more on Marc.

And she was livid.

Harshly typing away on her keyboard, creating a long series of codes, a net of numbers.

Layla doesn't plan to leave anything to chance, all she needs is for Marc to pick up his phone one time. Even if he doesn't, this baby right here will slowly get closer each ring. A bit like the game Marco Polo treasure always made Marc play.

One way or another, she will get what she wants.

Fuck Marc's flightiness. She'll chase him to the end of the world if she has too. He owes them an explanation at the very least.

It's why she called her daughter back, in case they would have to go at a moments notice.

"Mama?"

With a few more key strokes Layla finishes and shouts over her shoulder, "In here, baby girl!"

There's a bit of shuffling before little treasure enters, "Could you hand me my cell, sweetheart?"

"Sure"

It takes no more than a moment, and with her daughters eyes following her, she connects her phone to her computer to start the download.

It's silent, and Layla can feel the slight tension in the air.

Really, it's at times like these that her little girl reminds her of Marc.

Letting out a sigh Layla relents, "I've almost got him."

She watches as her daughter perks up, "Really?!"

Layla can't help the mixed feelings forming in the pit of her stomach. For one thing she's delighted her daughter can smile like that again, for another Layla wishes it was she who could light up her daughters face. Though she can't really blame little treasure since she herself was a daddy's girl to begin with. "Really, Really." She quotes, earning a happy giggle from her girl, "Now why don't you get packing, we leave as soon as I can get a trace on the man."

She watches as her daughter freezes and turns back towards her and in a voice so quiet asks, "You mean, I can come with you?"

It's the unspoken 'this time' hanging in the air that makes Layla pause and look, really look at her daughter. The subtle hope hidden in her eyes that forces Layla to remember all the times her... their daughter asked if she could come. How she only asked once each time, never more, only once.

How?

How had Layla and Marc not noticed?

"Of course you're coming, -" her daughter's squeals of happiness and excitement cut Layla off. She watched as her little one ran off on quick, but surprisingly quiet feet. Layla would have smiled and shook her head, but not this time.

This time she just silently observed their little girl zooming to and fro, leaping over any obstacles. ...When was the last time her daughter was this excited? This free?

Pursing her lips, she nodded to herself.

Marc was in deep shit once she got a hold of him.

— — —

AN: sorry for the late update. Just finished this chapter. Wattpad deleted 2 chapters this one was included (nearly shit myself in rage luckily it was only deleted on the app and I saved it from the website? Have no clue how that worked, I'm just so glad it did) also got sick... still sick but what ever.

I'm actually really happy Layla stole the rains for this one, really mama bear surprised me and I think it helps explain why Layla was so pissed at Marc. Before it felt more like she wanted to find Marc for her bruised pride and wanting answers (at least for me)

Gotta do some research on the story plots (haven’t seen the whole thing and don’t want to follow word for word so bullet points! … I thought I was done with research 😫)

Thanks for reading! ☺️

[book-place]

Dress Shopping Expeditions

Warnings: none (I think), let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Marc Spector x daughter reader, Steven Grant x reader platonic, Khonshu x reader platonic

Request: Hello! Could you do a fic for the Mk boys? I request another Mk boys x daughter bc I am such a simp after bingeing all your Mk x daughter or teen fics. Okay, so I know formal isn't really common in the Uk but I know some people do Proms, so could you do a fic where the Mk boys takes her dress shopping? And Khonshu is just judging all the dresses. Thought It would be a cute and funny fic

Request by: @mochystark

*not my gif*

Summary: It’s time for prom, so naturally you have to go dress shopping. Your father is less than pleased

A/N: I haven’t really written in a while- so please excuse the shitty writing

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“Come on!” You cheered, literally dragging the man behind you by the arm into the closest shop.

Marc tried- and failed- to dig his heels into the ground. “But I don’t want to,” He whined childishly.

“Well that’s too bad,” You looked over your shoulder at him with a grin, “Because Steven volunteered you to do it.”

The man was in fact still being pulled along behind you, but this time he was muttering obscenities to his alter.

If there was one thing in this world your father hated, it was shopping. But dress shopping, oh that was worse. So much worse.

The store was filled to the brim with gowns of all shapes and sizes. Colors ranging from the brightest oranges, to the darkest greens. You were completely in awe at everything you saw, spinning in a circle as your eyes tried to drink it all in.

Marc came to a stop, crossing his arms as he looked around nervously, “I don’t like this.” He muttered.

“Aww,” You teased, “Does dress shopping make you uncomfortable, dad?”

He let out a huff of air and turned his head to face the other way so you wouldn’t see the way his cheeks tinged the pink of a nearby Barbie-like dress, “Shut up.”

You just laughed, skipping off in a different direction to look at some colorful material, leaving Marc to rock back and forth on his heels where you had left him.

“Marc,” Steven chastised in his ear, “I volunteered you for this so that you could spend some time with Y/n.”

Marc shifted on his feet again, “I don’t know anything about this stuff, Steven!” He complained, not caring about any of the surrounding people who threw weird looks his way for talking to seemingly himself.

“It’s her prom,” The british man’s voice softened, “And you’re her father. She deserves to have you here with her.”

Your father deflated a bit at that before he sighed, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right.”

After only a second's hesitation, he set off into your direction, you in turn looking up and grinning brightly when you saw him approach.

“Dad, good, do you mind holding this?” You barely waited for him to nod before shoving at least five dresses into his hold.

“Yep,” He grunted a bit, “I got it.”

He followed you around like a lost puppy for the next forty five minutes as you tossed into his arms the different dresses you wanted to try on, and he didn’t complain once. In fact, he even seemed to be slightly happy.

Eventually, you trailed into the dressing room and one by one tried on the dresses, him waiting outside and you walking out each time to ask for his opinion.

“No.” Khonshu said the second you opened the door and stepped from your dressing room for the twenty-seventh dress you were trying on.

The God evidently had nothing better to do and decided to drop by to help.

“No?” You quipped back, anger rising in your voice.

“I don’t like it.” He said simply.

“Oh? You don’t like it?” You seethed, eyes narrowing at his quick judgment of your dress.

“Now, now,” Steven said nervously, looking back and forth between you two, “Let’s not fight.”

“No, let’s.” Marc fronted with a grunt and muttered, “Maybe the store will kick us out then.”

“No, I don’t.” Khonshu continued as if the other two hadn’t even spoken.

Marc sighed at the look Steven was giving him in a nearby mirror- one that told him to intervene before things got messy- and he stepped in between both of you.

“Sweetie,” He spoke, gently laying his hands on your shoulders, “You look beautiful.” He gently placed a kiss on your forehead.

You smiled up at him before grinning at Khonshu, “See? I look beautiful in this dress.”

Your father nodded, “And if you want to get this dress- then we’ll get this one.”

You shook your head and turned back into your dressing room, “Nah, I don’t really like it that much anyway.”

Steven burst into a fit of giggles as Marc’s face dropped and even Khonshu let out a small snigger.

Despite that though, the three of them stayed, waiting until you found the perfect dress. Not once complaining, but a couple more small fights did break out between you and the God of the moon.

Like a Bee 🐝- @ip747 @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @jvdethirlwall @wolfmoonmusic

[theseawakes]

Glimpse of Past (Marc Spector x teen!reader

summary: Marc emphatize with you when you showed up at his door and shared your past.

warnings: child abuse, death (mentioned) (lmk if I missed anything)

request: "Could I request a moonknight x teen reader (platonic) where reader usually helps them with finding people or finding information, kind of like “guy in chair”. And they often spend late nights helping Steven, Jake and Marc not spending a lot of time at home. Maybe Steven questions it but reader kinda shrugs it off. Then one day reader shows up covered in bruises and all of them tries to find out what happened but reader doesn’t want to tell them but then reveals that it was one of reader’s parents. And Marc becomes really protective because of what happened to him when he was a kid. You can decide the ending if you want but I would love to see some Hurt/Comfort."

a/n: I'm sorry I only did it with Marc, I sorta wrote it to take set right after incidents in season 1 with reader not knowing Steven and Jake yet

Marc Spector wasn't the one who worked well with people, but he eventually got a hang of it, thanks to you.

The mercenary never intended to have someone working off-screen for him. You were a threat. You came too close to Marc's secret job for his liking, prying on his night activities and even providing proof. Khonshu was telling Marc to get rid of you, but you butted him first by signing yourself to work with him. Marc couldn't risk someone knowing his night profession, and he didn't wanna kill a child. And judging your ability to be able to uncover the whole Moon Knight thing just reveals that you could be more than useful. So work with him, you did.

Yet earning the certain Spector's trust was hard. There were more than a handful of times when you gotta prove to him that you were, indeed, more than useful for him to fully trust you. Which you consider weird because he was the one who saved you from "getting rid of."

The crescent moon turned into full then turned anew. You found yourself rather at home with Marc than at your actual house. Oftentimes, you spend days with him even if he doesn't go on missions. As much as Marc hated to admit, he does enjoy it too. He enjoys hearing your antics in the comms, he enjoys hearing you read a book of pun jokes and coming home to you spreading out on the couch after a long mission.

You left him with a note that says, "I'll be back soon" once and have never been back ever since. His worry starts to grow as high as those skyscraper buildings. It's been weeks and Marc couldn't find any sign of your existence. Nevertheless, he prayed to anyone listening to him to keep you safe.

You are, in fact, not safe

Your hand trails on the newly made black eye on your face. A wince was shown on your reflection in the mirror.

You never intended to go home. You never wanted to go home. You were going to buy something in a store when you accidentally crashed into one of your father's friends. They immediately took you back to him and he was beyond furious. He locked you in your room for days and only opened the door to feed or beat you.

He had thrown out all your electronic devices; he made sure to cut any way of communication with the outside world so you weren't able to reach Marc. You were glad you left your camera in Marc's place, it was a gift from your late brother, the one you used to spy on Marc.

Your father let you out recently because he needs help to do chores. You still get beatings if you don't do exactly what he says. The newest black eye was obtained from dropping a bottle of beer because your hand hurts from his beatings.

Sighing heavily, you looked outside the bathroom when you heard a knock on the door.

The man sitting on the armchair paid no attention to it, locking his eyes on the TV. He, however, bitterly spat, "Get the door, they're my friends."

"Why don't you get it yourself?" You whispered under your breath, thinking he couldn't hear you. He did.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Your body flinched when you heard his boots making their way to where you are. "You should be glad I let you out that room." A slap. "You ungrateful bastard of a child." Another slap. "You should be glad I even spared your life!" This one almost sends you to the floor, but his hands pull you by your collar and smash your body to the nearest wall. "You took everything from me. My wife, my son, my good and perfect life with them!"

Your body made contact with the cold hard sink before falling to the floor. Groaning in pain, you felt another thing stomping your abdomen several times. After what felt like forever, your father finally stopped. With your final energy, you look at the front door. Seeing as your father and his friends were occupied by the TV, you dashed out of the bathroom and eventually out of the house. They noticed, of course, but you didn't care, all you cared about was running away as far as you can. You run to the only place you had in mind. The last thing you remember was knocking your hand on the familiar dark wooden door.

Marc scanned your sleeping form on the couch, noting the many differences between your usual self before your disappearance and now. Your clothes looked more like it's hanging on your body. Dark spots are circling your eyes with a slight dark blue color on one of them. Your skin is littered with bruises; purple, blue, even yellow. You look so… fragile. Totally different from the last time he saw you.

The time Marc realized you were not coming back or went "missing", he tried to find you by asking people he knows who know you. He tried looking and digging for information on where you live since you never told him. But he found nothing.

When he opened the door and saw you, he was beyond relieved to know that you were still alive. However, his heart dropped the moment he looked into your eyes. The sight was too familiar to him. He swore he caught a glimpse of himself inside those E/C eyes. And that was all he needed to know about your state before carrying your collapsed body to the couch.

The Khonshu Avatar watched as your eyes fluttered open, squinting a few times to adjust the light. Your head turned to see him despite it throbbing terribly. Tears clouded your blurry vision but you could still see Marc moving towards you. Your eyes widened in realization of someone coming towards you. With a jerk, you stand up and immediately back away from the person.

"Y/N?" Marc questioned.

You looked down as your feet kept dragging you away from the man. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again. I promise! I– it was my fault, I'm sorry, I am. I didn't mean to disobey you, I didn't mean to kill them, I'm sorry, please don't hit me, I didn't mean—"

"Y/N, it's me, it's Marc." Marc tried to cut you but failed as you replayed your muttering again and again and he'd be lying if that didn't shatter his heart. "Bud, it's all fine. You're alright. They can't get you here. You're safe," he made his voice as soft as he could.

His arms gently reach out for your shaking figure. The mercenary is fighting back the tears that started to form in his eyes. Alarms blazed in his head when you tried to hit your head. As if out of instinct, he leaped to engulf you in his arms, preventing you from hurting yourself. He could still hear you mutter through your tears, "stupid me, I shouldn't have– I shouldn't –"

"Shh, stop it, Y/N, please don't hurt yourself. You're alright, I've got you. It's alright. Follow my breathing, okay? In, 1 2 3, hold it, out 1 2 3. Come on, you can do it. Again." You followed Marc's instructions, breathing in and out with him. Marc's hand never stopped circling your back to calm you down and it worked. Once your crying has reduced into small hiccups, you clung onto the back of his shirt as he rocks you back and forth. "There you go, better?"

You moved your head up and down while wiping a single tear. "Yeah," you answered. Looking up at the man, you noticed his eyes were a bit puffy too. Has he been crying? "I'm sorry, Marc."

The dark-haired man patted your head softly. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"They died because of me, my mom and my brother." You paused. "She died giving me a chance to live in this cruel world, and he died saving me to continue living in it. I don't need him to remind me every chance he gets that I killed them because I already live with the guilt every day."

The confession you made sent a jab to his heart. He knows how it feels to be in your shoes. He knows it all too well. When he looked inside your eyes he saw a glimpse of his past, and that was all he needed to know what happened. It was exactly what happened to him, and it pained him to acknowledge it. Marc pulled you into another embrace when your tears started spilling out again. Then somehow when he glanced at the top of your head, he saw the hair that belonged to his younger self, which only caused him to pull you closer.

"It wasn't your fault, kid," he replayed what Steven said to him on their trip down memory lane. "It wasn't your fault that they died. It wasn't anyone's."

Marc's words only trigger more tears to come out of your eyes. You tighten your grip around him, allowing yourself to break down in his arms. It wasn't after a few minutes that you had calmed down. "I don't wanna go back there."

"You don't have to. We'll sort things out later. For now, let's tend those bruises, eh?" Marc helped you get to the couch before he went to grab the med kit. When he was about to get back, you jumped off the couch.

"The scarab!" you shouted, now remembering that Marc had gone for the scarab before you were taken back to your house. The pain going through your body made you wince. "What happened to the scarab? Did you find it?"

The Moon God's avatar ignored your question as he hurried to your place to sit you back down and gave you an ice pack for your black eye. He hesitated to answer you for a moment, afraid of what your reactions might occur. "I did. I saved the world. Kinda."

"What!?" There it is, the reaction. You stood up again, ignoring the pain this time. "You saved the world!? How? What did you do? What happened?"

Marc sighed. "Will you sit back down? You're in pain."

"Please, this is nothing more than knowing you saved the world without me." You scoffed, earning a chuckle from Marc.

"Alright, fine, I'll tell you everything. Now sit back down, kid." You lowered yourself to the couch again, watching Marc start to tend your bruises. "It happened in Cairo."

-

taglist: @andromacher @pauldanos-world @atzlena @blustalker

[huitzilinthebudgie3]

Un Dia Mal

Summary : In which we delve into the what if scenario with Marc and Y/n . What if Marc had waited…and asked Layla for help after the 3 months being gone. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n had woken up slightly late (2 minutes after her normal time) , as she rushed to shower , brush her teeth , change for school and manage to consume some sustenance for the morning before school.

She rushed into the flat before tripping over one of Stevens pile of books with a thud and cringed at the dust that had been kicked up. She sneezed a few times as she rearranged the books into their previous jenga like tower before rushing into the kitchen. 

Where pda was on display….she made a face as she grabbed a mug for coffee and quickly served it as she turned back to find stern faces "Aww what's wrong little bug ?" She wrinkled her nose at the affectionate name "People are weird..between you guys , miguel and dana…this pda thing is gross" Layla chuckled at that kissing her forehead "Yeah , well you'll grow up eventually and have someone you'll want to kiss" She quirked a brow at that "Mother….i do not require affection…nor will i bend to the will of being bound to a mere-mortal" she said while drinking her coffee and eating some breakfast “You need to stop watching those supernatural dramas with her babe” Marc sighed. 

She felt a heavy gaze settle over her as she ignored the sensation focusing on her homework "How are your grades , kiddo ?" Marc asked as Y/n glanced up momentarily "Oh…uhh i have a 3 A's , 2 B's and one C" she said nonchalantly "That's good darling" her mom smiled "Oh…Ms.what's-her-face said she was gonna call you guys about an event or something" she said as both her parent gave her an expression that you could probably imagine.

"What about ? Do you have an F?" She glanced up with a quirked brow "No..something about cinnamon rolls? I dunno, this lady always talks to me , while i'm reading" she huffed in frustration. 

Her Dad chuckled "Honor Roll ? That's a good baby girl" he smiled "We're proud of you kiddo." She hummed "So you guys staying or you guys have to work again ?" She asked, trying to change the conversation and they stayed silent..which meant they would probably be gone again by the time she was home from school .

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n sighed as she walked down the sidewalk to the bus , it was like 3 blocks from her house….but she had a 15 minute cushion. Anxiety was fun…especially when school was a long walk away . So she’d be 15 mins early to the bus stop , she sighed as she silently walked past a few buildings noting the new scenery.

New York was new for her , they'd be here for past 2 years..which in the span of her 16 years of life was short…they'd lived multiple places in the past…the longest being Los Angeles , where she picked up the subtle californian accent and slang.

New York was after London…which she had enjoyed slightly….but not a lot as her mom was now a hero…and around less lately …usually with her Dad…..and now she was being a baby.

They only started leaving her alone for extended periods of time. Assuring her it was temporary …which wasn't uncommon for her as her mom was an archeologist….and sometimes she was gone for a handful of days…to weeks..maybe a few months for her Dad…but Mom was usually gone for a few days at most .  Lately…well a year ago, It'd extended… they'd been gone 6 months …leaving the neighbors in charge ... .Miguel's Mother Conchata …. who invited her over for dinners and to hang out. Essentially adopting her temporarily.

And they'd just gotten back from a Month trip ... .a month ... .not that it bothered the practically adult teen…but it was an adjustment.

She was brought out of her thoughts by whimpering as she glanced down an alleyway sheepishly ….her instinct telling every hair on her body to stand and get the hell out of there.

Except she heard a whisper…her ears straining to hear the very faint whisper as she sighed walking a bit further in.

Her mind racing "This is some scary movie sh*t…ya idiot…" she huffed to herself "But theres a puppy in there or a dog…it's crying" she reasoned to herself pacing a bit as she walked away further to the bus stop before sighing "And …" she frowned turning around back to the alley and walking in and softly staring at the black dog…it's fur drenched in blood as 2 long gashes ran down from it's chest to it's ribs.

She frowned softly petting the damp fur "awww…it's okay……" she cooed "Well it's not okay cuz that looks bad…" she muttered to herself as she winced at the dogs whine …cuz it was a dog.

….it heard her as she winced "Oh it's okay , tis a flesh wound" she reassured …smiling faintly as a memory struct "You can probably walk it off" she said reassuringly petting the dog as it whined and growled softly. Before opening it's mouth in her lap and nuzzling something into her hand. She quirked a brow as she picked it up to look as the dog nuzzled her hand close before looking into her eyes and whining as if to communicate something. 

She hummed "Hey , i'll watch it and deliver it to your owner" she smiled softly  "And hey , if it's time …it's time. You won't hurt anymore and you can find peace and stuff " she reassured before adding "Unless………uhhhhhh…………….. you don't believe that or you're like some evil dog…" she hummed before chuckling "Or you have like unfinished business…then i guess you can haunt whoever did this to you" she smiled sheepishly noting that the poor thing had passed at the peace part as she sighed "I'll come back later and take you to the vet clinic" she smiled reassuringly petting it one last time before checking her watch and cursing as ran out of the alley way.

She cursed as she ran to the stop..and watched it pull away…not stopping as she sighed pinching her nose in frustration. And beginning the walk to the next bus that stopped a block away from her school

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Today was turning out shitty as she'd missed her bus for school. The dog was worth it…it sadly still died in an alley but…at least it had company. And she tried being …oh poor dog..she's talked its ear off !!! 

The good thing was that Miguel..her best-friend and neighbor held the door open as she ran into the building before it closed for the day. Miguel..ever the dorky nerd , he held his hand out as they walked.

 “C’mon where’s your math homework ? Did you ask your parents for help ?” she gave him a confused look “Homework ? Which class ?” Miguel fixed her with a drool look as they walked to stand in the line for the lockers room for P.E “The Algebra homework” Y/n hummed “Nah , i have a 20 point cushion from extra credit last week” she said nonchalantly as Miguel glared “En serio ?” he huffed in disbelief and disappointment. 

She shrugged “I can probably afford the 1 missing assignment “ Miguel sighed “Lunch , we are doing it before we have class. No way you're missing it , because we are going on the Honor Roll End of the semester trip!” he said firmly.

She snorted “You really think , my parents will let that happen ?” 

Miguel rolled his eyes “Sure , they're never home. They’d never know” that struck a nerve as she sighed "I guess…but they have to sign the permission slip" Miguel quirked a brow "They don't know you forge it ? Still think my mom sign" she glared "Dude , you forge your moms signature and you live with her full time" she countered as he held his hands up "Ay! Calmate! I was kidding"

*a few minutes later*

Y/n was in the middle of talking to miguel …waiting for roll call to begin when his girlfriend interuppted "Spector, you weirdo….hands bleeding " the older girl laughed as Y/n frowned before realizing that her hand was indeed bleeding as she tried recalling cutting herself so bad…it was actually dripping. 

Before recalling she had felt a sting when the dog had pushed the thing into her hand.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The day went normally , she went to all 6 periods…studied with miguel…, his friends and his girlfriend. Who were all upperclassmen and teased her about being 'so much' younger as she rolled her eyes…she was only 3 months younger than Miguel.

Gabriel …..Miguel's little brother also hung out with them…but he was acting different with her now. They had been close once …back when Miguel had ignored and been mean to her…but it was a good close …that…..she couldn't explain it….she had tried once and it resulted in a Jake appearance…and now he acted like this…so..yeah.

So now Y/n just avoided him out of him being awkward. And that was that.

Anyways , she was currently on her way home…walking….as she'd taken the wrong bus and ended up in the complete opposite side of town.

So she sighed , walking down the road later because her dumb ass …again took the wrong bus and them tripped over her own feet.

She sighed remembering the dog…from earlier…and deciding that it would be best …to atleast take the poor thing to the vets to be cremated..but it probably cost money ..and she had like 20 from allowance cash…on her person. Assuming her parents were gone again.  She'd buy some dinner…from the taco stand by the apartment.

However….she felt bad..and poor dog had gone through enough. So she walked down the road to the alley way. She sighed handing over the money as the receptionist smiled telling her that they would call her when it’s body was ready for pick up.

She nodded before making her way home……

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Like usual….she walked home having missed her window for the taco stand…..something that probably would’ve lightened her day. She returned home to find a set of very upset parents….she was unsure how to respond and being her fathers daughter as her mother always mentioned.

She made a issue that could’ve been easily resolved with a ‘Sorry , it won’t happen again’ , placing a ‘It wasn’t my fault , there was a bus mix-up ,after study group , and then i fell and ….wait you guys are home ?! You guys didn’t text me …how was i supposed to know ! You guys aren’t ever home’ which earned her a rebuking and sent to her room. Honestly sometimes she didn’t think things through , she had failed to notice the streamers and cake set up as they called her out after her fathers and mom lectured her about talking back and paying attention.

And then they sat down , ate dinner….pizza….

…she hated pizza….she wanted and craved the bomb ass tacos from down the road….and then her parents handed her an enveloped with a black and white blob as she quirked a brow curiously glancing up from them and the blob before reality slammed down …and guess what….

“We’ll be home more , we moved work and we’ll be around for more…and we’ll spend more time with you….”

And she wasn’t paying attention as she heard a dull ringing in her ear….she felt a rush of different types of emotions…….

….Being the only kid for 16 years…comes with issues because… she had at some point begged for another sibling and she understood then and now that it had been hard for her parents even more because of her for some reason. Her mother always told her that she was and had been a unexpected blessing..so she’d always assumed it ended there. And now…NOW after 16 years they finally decided it was time…or fate whatever higher being ?!!!!

Not only that but , her whole life they’d moved , wandered and explored ….hell after school became worrisome they’d left her in the Americas  continue her education. So they weren’t willing to stop for her…but for this tiny little thing that wasn’t even existent….

She hadn’t even realized she’d gone to her room , nor the knocking on her door until the annoying bird that was a constant in her life sat on her bed. He always gave her strangely violent advice like …Jake but…more sagely.

He was currently staring at her as she sighed deeply “I fucked up , huh big bird?” she murmured.

“It’s not set in stone , little worm. You’d be surprised…what one word can do” she sniffled at that as tears welled up in her eyes “Why can’t i do shit right” she huffed wiping her eyes angrily “Sometimes i wonder if life would be easier for them without me…” she murmured as she shuffled to lean against the old birds legs as he patted her head in a affectionate pet kind of way “I assure you it wouldn’t” she snorted “How do you know..oh great spirit guide” she huffed “I just get in the way….i bet there wasn’t even a party with me. They were probably like ‘oh shit…one escaped the condom’ “ she huffed as the bird made a distressed noise “You are -something else , little bug” she shrugged “Normals boring…tried it when i was born…didn’t like it……” she chuckled as the bird smiled “Now wake up” she jolted up in her bed half asleep as she glanced around in pain as she stared at the wound on her palm from the dogs necklace….before screaming at the giant glowing canary eyes……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Note : I hope you liked it and let me know if you want another part 🙂

Have a wonderful Day/Night !!!!!!!!! :) :)

[l3m0ncyan]

New to Life | Masterlist

Steven Grant/Marc Spector x latina! teen! Reader

Summary: Moving from California to London in order to attend her dream school, Y/N L/N has to get used to the different climate and culture. Thinking it would only be her against the city, her across-the-hall neighbor helps her not only unlock her door but to get used to England. With things seeming well, a huge turn in both their lives happens and new secrets come out. Also, now it turns out Y/N has to help her neighbor save the world with the help of a moon god.

Note: I apologize for grammar errors and if things don't make sense lmao, I am slowly editing them and making them less cringe

Link to this series on Ao3

---------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Holiday Special

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Last Update: 5/4/2023

Visuals

Apartment

Readers Suit + Hathor

Reader and Mania

Scenes of ch.11 + Mania Transformation

[dearlawdimasimp]

give this series a read please ohmayghaa😭💜💜

i have- mixed emotions and i am thoroughly impressed with the author's talent in their writing like UGHH *CHEF'S KISS*

— ANPU [6]

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley/Teen Reader [GN]

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: Platonic

𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺(𝘀): Marvel/Moon Knight

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: The Moon God; Khonshu chose Marc Spector as his avatar when the man was on the brink of death, little did they or the rest of the Ennead know, The God of Death; Anubis had chosen an avatar of his own

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: Series spoilers, angst, vulgar language, fighting, depictions of violence and death, gender neutral terms (they/them), (y/name) is used but no specific gender is assigned

𝗔/𝗡: hey lovelies! i’m so sorry i went on a hiatus for a bit and sort of abandoned this story for a little while, but i’ve got my groove back and pounded out the rest of this chapter, as in most of it was already written but a few pieces were missing and i’d just filled them :) don’t expect much because it’s kinda sloppy and a bit diced but i just really wanted to get a new one out.. i’d abandoned it for a bit because i didn’t want to write something that i would not be proud of.. again i’m so sorry this is so fucking late! as said i’d lost inspiration for the story and had a tough rut of writer’s block for a phat minute, but i’m back and chapters will be much more consistent now. thanks for understanding… enjoy!

[F/Name] = [Fake/Name]

—

The atmosphere in the boat was thick and tense, it was awkwardly uncomfortable to say the very least. And [Y/Name] didn’t like it, they didn’t like the intolerable air surrounding them. It felt like it was sneaking through their thickly barbed defenses and burrowing into their chest like a parasite.

They knew this would happen. They knew the mood would be metaphorically tight, and they swallowed slightly choked at the coil of said energy wrapping tightly around their neck.

“We have a bit of ways before Mogart’s,” Layla informed then she along with Marc found themselves looking to [Y/Name].

They’d opted to sit just a bit away from their parents, not so much so they were sat on an entirely different bench, just enough where there was space between them and [Y/Name]. “We wanna know what happened that night.”

The incident in question left [Y/Name] utterly broken, forcing the teenager much too young for the fate they met, to haphazardly piece themselves back together.

They would move on to harden themselves to the world outside and the people that surrounded them, now protecting their broken pieces behind thick vaulted steel doors. Hoping the cold emptiness of the indifference they now held for everything would abate the searing ache in their heart. That it could somehow quench the burning in their chest, the fiercely sharp sting of the repercussions of what had occurred that horrible night some years ago.

But, they were not fortunate enough to be granted such freedoms. And their hurt and pain would now weigh down heavily on them, a weight that as the years have passed they learned to carry. Strong and firm in the resolute determination in keeping the pain from swallowing them in it’s everlasting isolation and darkness.

On particularly hard nights few and far between young [Y/Name] would find themselves perched just outside their parent’s window. The warmth from the love the two shared calling out to them like a siren, the golden wisps of the welcoming tenderness curling around their form and caressing their face.

And they very many times had desired to move through that window, sink into the warm embrace of family. Home. But they knew very well they could not, they didn’t have the courage to. Not after… everything.

“What is there to know?” [Y/Name] averted, still not entirely comfortable —if at all, to share any information on the trauma they suffered through. They certainly didn’t feel any sort of closure from it, that man was still alive, somewhere out there.

And they had been blocking it out from their mind for so long that they didn’t think they’d even have the strength to recall it again. Therefore, they’d continue to keep all of those memories from ever resurfacing again. Even from their parents.

“What the hell do you mean by that?” Marc spat, unintentionally sounding more bitter and angry than he meant to. “I want to know where you’ve been the past five years! And I want to know why you never came back to us! To your family!”

“It.. was a long time ago.. it doesn’t matter anymore,” they gruffly choked out. It did matter, the man responsible was known among the family. And he had stabbed Marc in the back, unbeknownst to him of course.

Marc could sense the reluctance to tell him was because the haunting pain from their experience would utterly destroy them if they lived through it again. Even telling him about it seemed enough to cause them fear, the thought of having to relive that night solely for his knowledge made them anxious.

They just couldn’t do it.

And he had enough sympathy from his own childhood that he tries so hard to repress, to understand they’re reluctance and refusal. Instead of pushing them harder, he opted for a much gentler approach. Scooting forward on the bench he sat upon and taking their hand in his, [Y/Name] looked up from their narrowed glare at the bottom of the boat. And they felt a sliver of warmth in their chest at the understanding look in their father’s eye.

“It does matter [Y/Name], because you’re my kid.. my own flesh and blood. I love you more than anything as I have since the day you were born. Whether it was five years or a thousand, you matter to me. And you always will.”

They exhaled raggedly at his words, the sliver of warmth from before had grown so exponentially they felt the urge to leap forward and hug him. Just sink into the warmth only a father can provide for his child, the urge was so prominent they felt the tingled twitch in their blood. Vibrating beneath their skin as it moved through their veins.

But, just as all these years that have passed, there was that wall of heartbroken betrayal that always divided them and Marc. Separating [Y/Name] from the one person they used to trust most in the entire world. Keeping them from reaching each other with it’s bitterly cold build, made of nothing but pain and heartache and devastation. All melded together in a blockade that stood firm and strong between them and their father.

They slid their eyes closed with slanted brows, swallowed thickly and then with slight hesitance pulled their hand from his. “I think… I think that what happened is best left where it remains. It’s best to leave the past in the past, we should not look back. Only ahead.”

Marc felt another pang of aching hurt ripple through his body, he had made his confession to them. He had made his feelings to words and he had let them know exactly how he felt. And they had still distanced themselves.

But, he decided the other night when they had managed to interact with each other that he’d respect their desire for space. Therefore, he didn’t touch much more on the matter. He could see their firm and resolute desire to leave that night where it sits, in the past. And he would —once again— respect their choice to keep it suppressed.

With a slight hitch in his chest he leaned back to press his back against the wall of the boat. And he exhaled softly when [Y/Name] pressed their hand against the lower half of their face then turned to face away from both him and Layla.

Layla, whom had been quiet during their entire interaction. She’d agreed so wholeheartedly with everything Marc had said to them. And she too had so desperately wished to know what happened that night. She needed the closure.

Regardless, of her child being there right in front of her in the flesh. She needed to know why they had changed so drastically, what exactly had occurred for them to be so withdrawn in themselves. And most importantly why there was such a bitter and intense air between them and her husband.. —ex-husband.

She had felt so many emotions when she saw them in his apartment that it made her head spin. There was the shock that had overwhelmed her, quickly followed by a deep disbelief at the fact they were standing there in front of her. And then came the relief, it was like a cold bucket of water had been thrown over that fiery and stifling ache in her chest.

It swiftly quenching that painful feeling of longing she —until previously— had thought would never, ever go away. A longing to just hold her child in her arms, just be with them… love them.

But, this invisible force that was keeping [Y/Name] and Marc apart was a wall she didn’t understand. Because she didn’t know. Only they and Marc knew. And even Marc was in the dark about what had went on when [Y/Name] had been left alone that night.

It was a blockade that was slowly starting to thicken, she could tell that it was already such a strong and sturdy barrier that she desired to know exactly how it was built. And why it was there. She knew there wasn’t one between her and them, but she also knew that the space between them also was not entirely empty. It may be thin, but she could feel that it was there. Built upon the grounds of bad feelings between them and Marc.

And she didn’t feel like that was fair. She, of the three, was the most in the unknown. And she felt lost on how to untangle the mess that was between her child and their father. Which in turn, left her lost on how to get her child back.

The one who was all smiles, happy and lively. Not the one that looked beat down by the world, and thoroughly exhausted, the one that had a dark and worn out look in their eyes. Like a walking corpse.

In the scheme of things, [Y/Name] was.. tired. Tired of life, tired of the weight of their trauma reminding them of it’s existence every damn day. Like a knot in their shoulders and a heavy ache in their chest. They were done, and if they were being honest they didn’t know how much longer they could keep this up. They were just…. done. And Layla could see that… she could see it clear as day in the way they carried themself. In the way they looked, their aura and presence, and the way they continued to deflect any sort of affection… and it broke her heart.

There was a silent agreement between all three members of the broken Spector family. Their conflict and unresolved deep hurt needed to be put on pause.. for now at least. There were no promises silently made by either parents they wouldn’t request to be told of what had went on that night.

[Y/Name] knew they would ask again… eventually, but they were relieved all the same when it was in accord they’d focus on Ammit and Harrow first.

When the music on the boat picked up, the young teenager found themselves intrigued as the woman who had previously been sitting next to her stood and joined the other occupants near the back. She began ululating rhythmically to the sound of the music and the others cheered as she did so.

[Y/Name] kept their focus to those boat passengers, comfortable in just watching as they danced and enjoyed the company of others.

“I haven’t heard that sound since… since our wedding,” they heard Marc speak up. And while they weren’t facing them they knew both of their parents were now paying sole attention to each other.

“You could’ve told me. You know? What it’s been like for you, about Steven.” Layla countered, and they listened as a tense silence followed. Shortly after Marc responded.

“For what it’s worth I had it under control until very recently.”

“What happened?”

Marc didn’t have the heart nor the willpower to divulge the truth, because he faced the same weight that his child did. A primal need to keep his past trauma where it rightfully belongs.

“We could’ve handled it together.” Layla warmly reminded, and [Y/Name] couldn’t help it when their eyes narrowed at their father’s response.

“Yeah. That’s not really what I do, is it? Never really been able to just talk about everything.”

“Anything real?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah I know, but.. that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t have.” Again, Layla was being the warm and loving person her child knew her to be. Yes, of course their mother is a badass and they knew that very well.. but they also knew she was just as tender hearted when she needed to be.

“Yeah, maybe.. it’s a little too late for that now though.” Came Marc’s reply and again his child felt slightly irked by his sniped response.

They didn’t turn their head but listened attentively as their parents made their plan.

—

The small ferry had finally docked alongside a pier, the grounds of Mogart’s mansion lively and alight with people bustling about. Marc climbed out first then offered a hand to Layla, and as his young teenager followed… offered his hand to them.

An offer they hesitated in taking though ultimately accepted, allowing their father to help them up onto the dock. As Marc was knelt on the ground sliding their bags beneath the dock’s stair, movement on the water caught both his and [Y/Name]’s eye.

And the teenager tensed then bristled at the reveal it was the same two men they’d seen in the market, the ones that had disappeared into the crowd.

“Harrow’s men keeping tabs?” Layla inquired upon also taking notice of the men, Marc responded he wasn’t sure before Layla ordered them away.

“Remember; your name is Rufino Estrada, and you’re our child; [F/Name].” She firmly stated as all three made their way through the flow of locals and up to the fenced off arena. The grass beneath their shoes turning to sand as the two different materials blended together on the border.

The arena ahead was lit up with pale white light, smaller bulbs of colored light strung up alongside flags across the beams that lined the fenced perimeter. Just ahead, they could see two golden pyramid structures on either side of the path up to the mansion. And they figured the sarcophagus of Senfu must be in one of them.

In front of them, a dark skinned man approached and Layla called out to him, Bek was his name. They shared a friendly handshake before the man turned and began to guide them to the sand arena. Marc grabbing Layla’s hand, then placing his other on his teenager’s back to truly sell the bit. [Y/Name] tensed but ultimately went with the last minute ruse and walked along with their parents.

The area ahead was.. sort of like an equestrian bullpen, and inside the fenced perimeter were men astride beautiful horses and clashing spears against each other as they passed. El-Mermah. Marc made a joke about that, poking at the owner of the property and making fun of his activities. Said man, had halted his horse several feet in front of them and dismounted, Bek easing a blood red robe onto his broad shoulders.

“Layla. Come in.” He welcomed upon seeing her, and she walked up to him followed by Marc and their child. Of which was too focused on keeping an eye on their surroundings to pay much attention to the conversation that followed. Only zeroing back in on the interaction when Layla had introduced them.

Pushing [Y/Name] forward by a hand at their back, Mogart took their outstretched hand and shook it firmly before he turned around and began walking towards the gate at the far side.

“Keep your wits about you my little jackal.”

They had reached the pyramid when the teenager’s eyes found the sarcophagus, they ignored the conversation between the adults as they slunk backwards a bit, hiding behind their father as they urged their optical ability to come forward.

With practiced willpower they only allowed their pupils to slit, enhancing their vision and sharpening their sight keenly.

“Very clever baby Spector.”

The scratched in writings were visible, and clear as day to them now. They began reading the hieroglyphs etched into the sides and inside the lid of the sarcophagus.

Though, the only thing the written words told them was how to guide the dead. And being the avatar to Anubis they had already known all the knowledge on that matter.

The answer they were looking for must be within the coffin somewhere. Then, they noticed the written texts of the astronomical plane.. the answer must be there somewhere. As vast and ever-going as it is.. they had to find a way to get that answer.

But the writings gave no more clues, they’d have to get closer. Maybe there was something on the wrappings of mummified man lied inside. There had to be more on the cartonnage, there must be.

When their parents were permitted access and began to walk towards the pyramid they followed, then moved to stand beside the sarcophagus. And as they had predicted there was astronomical markings on the papyrus fabric inside.

Only problem was, they didn’t entirely understand it. It was obviously some kind of map or something other of the stars. Maybe a particular night perhaps?

They’d looked at it long enough to ultimately decide they’d need Steven, though their father was firm in his refusal to let the Londoner out. It wasn’t until the urgency from his child did he ask Layla to leave so he could speak with Steven.

And she listened, walking out as the Anubis avatar, whom ignored their father’s conversation, circled the sarcophagus. Trying to understand the writings all along the wood.

Then there was an abrupt click, and [Y/Name] shot up from behind the opened sarcophagus. Marc had a gun on Bek, and Mogart had entered with two other men pointing guns at Layla.

Two others entered and moved around the sarcophagus to stand behind the teenager, both pointing their guns at [Y/Name]’s head. Much to the tense annoyance and ferociously overprotective fury of Marc and Layla.

Mogart came in and went off on Layla about the situation, it wasn’t until another man came in and whispered in his ear did he fixated on something else.

“It seems we have an interested third party here,” Mogart mused as he stepped out. He jerked his head and his men forced the trio to follow him outside.

And [Y/Name] grit their teeth at the sight of Harrow, the man slowly moving closer with his cane in hand and two followers behind him. Their hands previously raised next to their head, had lowered when they saw he’d entered the palace courtyard.

Harrow mouthed off as predicted, after showing Mogart exactly what the staff he obtained from Ammit could do, he prattled on about Layla’s father and consequently [Y/Name]’s past too.

Revealing far too much with few too little context about what exactly had gone on that night. And in turn stirred the thick and tense atmosphere brewing between the young teenager and their mother and father.

“You won’t tell them who is responsible,” Harrow goaded, the young teenager gritting their teeth hard as their jaw clenched tightly. Their narrowed eyes furiously piercing him where he stood. The Ammit worshipper neared and lured Mogart into a showcase of Ammit’s power. Lifting his cane and speaking in a different language as the glowing purple color erupted from the cane and the ground beneath the sarcophagus. Crushing the only guidance to Ammit’s tomb and partially destroying the clues in finding it.

[Y/Name] ignored the burning stares of their parents —both staring hard at the fact Harrow knew of what had occurred that night, and they didn't— as they watched Harrow leave with his men. The long haired man turning back to smirk mockingly at the teenager. [Y/Name] felt a rage burning deep in their blood at his actions and the fact it had stirred the already dark and tense air between them and their parents. The loud demanding voices of Khonshu and Anubis encouraging them and Marc to suit up and escape the situation they were in, not helping at all in quelling the fiery burn in their chest.

Only when their voices grew too bothersome did the pair listen—

“They’re gone!” One of Mogart’s men exclaimed and they all looked to find both he and the teenager had indeed vanished. Then, a voice proclaimed the pair had gone to stand at the top of the pyramid.

They all looked to the pointed top of the golden structure, and sure enough, Marc was stood there with [Y/Name] crouched beside him. Both dawning their opposing suits of stark white and deep black.

“Don’t kill any of them,” [Y/Name] spoke out, they hadn’t turned their head to their father, but he had definitely heard what they said.

“What?” Marc looked to them in disbelief at their request, then reeled back barely a touch when they turned to face him. Their eyes now a glowing amber with slit pupils, their stare sharp and hard.

“None of these men are meant to meet their end any time soon, no killing.. it is only more work for me.”

“Very well.”

With that the two leapt off the pyramid to take action against the men surrounding them. And they’d handled them with practiced expertise.

Marc adhering to his child’s forewarning and holding back on killing any of them, merely injuring them enough to the point they wouldn’t longer stand against him or them.

The only one who had lost his life was Mogart, and that was [Y/Name]’s doing, solely because he was charging after their mother with a spear. And clear intent to murder written all across his face.—

— [Y/Name] sprinted forward as Mogart charged, they ignored their father’s call for their mother and dove for her. Pulling her out of the way in the nick of time.. Mogart’s horse with him astride thundering past, in one single and fluid motion, [Y/Name] stood and spun quickly with a spear in a white knuckle grip. They threw it fast and sharp sending the spear hurtling towards Mogart where it pierced through his back then further all the way through his chest. And he slumped then fell to the side off the horse and into the sand, where he lay in a growing puddle of deep crimson colored blood.

[Y/Name] had reacted on emotion alone in that moment.. and that was what bothered them. Normally they could just choke back any and all sentiment for others while on duty. But… their father’s return into their life was screwing with their feelings on the worst way possible.

And they didn’t like that affect he had on them. He didn’t deserve it. Not any kind of feelings —tender and loving.. or otherwise— did he deserve to see from them.

Their feelings were scrambling, ever since that moment on the boat and every event following behind and leading up to now. When he allowed a moment of vulnerability and laid out his feelings for them, when they had first began to fight Mogart’s men and he wrapped both Layla and them up in his cape to deflect bullets fired from the men.

[Y/Name] just couldn’t handle the tense atmosphere and they hoped this mission would be completed soon.. because no matter the circumstances between them and their father. They had agreed that for their god and for the safety of the world.. they would see this mission through to the end—

— no matter the cost.

—

@wast3ofurtim3 @oscar-isaac-enthusiast

@mateihavenoidea @avatar-of-procrastination

@jvdethirlwall @revenge-of-the-bucket-demon

@itznox @handswritteeen @leighanne03

@jinxedleo @femalemarvelself @yorkeylover

@galactic-galabee @whelvedfeelingsstuff

@guyinachair27 @technikerin23 @galacticstxrdust

@vix3nspirit @astrobuzzsstuff @the-vex-archives

@daughterofthequeen @the-vex-archives

@stevengrants0sugarmommy

—

a/n: would you fucking look at that, finally a goddamn chapter got fucking posted.. i’m really excited to get back into this story, i’ve really missed it.. also i’ve excluded the stars spinning back scene in this chapter because i’d like it to be the set up for the next chapter.. as i’ve been back on socials and things i’ve seen all the wonderful things y’all have sent and said 🥹 makes me happy and ofc i’ll add all y’all newcomers to the taglist.. speaking of if i’ve missed you please let me know! hope you liked! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ oh also.. @cavepantherfury love your theory.. and worry not dear child.. all will be revealed in due time 💖

[thirstworldproblemss]

Favorite moon Knight fics??

Fav Moon Knight Fics you say....?

It's possible I might have a few so freakin' many, 'nonny, you don't even know...

List Notes:

Fics are Sorted by type of pairing, then alphabetically by Title

Uses AO3 Ratings: General audiences - Teen & up - Mature - Explicit

Check your Content Settings if you're 18+ and want to be able to see mature content (Settings -> scroll down to Content You See -> Community Labels -> Mature -> show)

Graphics: MK header is mine; adorable moon & stars divider by @straywords

Links sometimes misbehave on desktop–If none of the links are working, try opening in dashboard mode (click the eye-shaped button in the far top right)

— MK System x Reader — .

B-Roll by @heybluechild [ Marc x F reader, 2.2k, E, oneshot ] Summary: You and Marc make a sex tape. (smut, humor)

Chocolate by @bits-and-babs [ Steven x F reader, 6.1k, E, oneshot ] Summary: After weeks of pining for your coworker Steven Grant, sharing chocolate over a late shift causes sparks to fly. (pining, soft smut)

Disaster [ao3] by @softlyspector [ Marc-centric MK system x F reader, 6k, T, oneshot ] Summary: Marc's mental health takes a turn for the worse when you give him some news. After chasing him to Chicago, you, Steven, and Jake are left to pick up the pieces. (heavy angst--mind the warnings!, angst with a hopeful ending)

The First Time by @youvebeenlivingfictional [ Marc x F reader, 3.2k, E, oneshot ] Summary: The first time you and Marc catch one another in a tight spot, you both make it out by the skin of your teeth. You’re both wounded; you’re both riled up as all hell. (violence, angry smut, feeeeeeelings)

Gift of Min & Redux [ao3] by @astroboots [ Steven x F reader x Marc (x Jake), 21k, E, twoshot ] Summary: Marc brings back a trinket from his trip that may or may not contain an ancient sex god/aphrodisiac. Either way, Marc’s not telling, and it’s for you and Steven to find out. (Smut, sex pollen)

Idling by @juneknight [ Jake-centric MK system x F reader, 10k, E, in progress as of 7/6/23 ] Summary: Jake keeps having to front for Marc and Steven's new girlfriend. (angst--mind the warnings!, promises of future smut)

keep your vigils on the road [ao3] by @charnelhouse [ Steven x F reader x Marc (x Jake), 4.2k, E, oneshot ] Summary: They’re on the run. It’s kind of a vacation. (smut, violence)

Killing me by @astroboots [ Jake x F reader (x Steven/Marc), 2.4k, E, oneshot ] Summary: Jake takes it “easy” on you after a long night with Steven. (smut)

Moon Struck [ao3] by @softlyspector [ MK system x dancer F reader, 43.3k, E, series ] Summary: Steven asks you out, Marc falls in love (slowburn, some angst with a happy ending, eventual smut)

No fish were harmed in the making of this meet-cute by @writefightandflightclub [ Marc Spector x F reader, 2.1k, G, oneshot ] Summary: You have a dilemma. You don’t want to sell the man any more fish. But you do want him to keep coming back to your shop 👀 (fluff, humor, angry meet cute)

Obsessed by @juneknight [ Marc x F reader, college AU, 7.2k, E, twoshot in an ongoing series ] Summary: Marc likes eating pussy and offers to eat yours. (smut, college roommates AU) ...Honestly, I probably could have listed ALL of Dorm Room Marc here. Other Favs: The Thing About Marc Spector, Pushing Buttons, Sweet Requitement

Pornstar MK Boys: Marc, Steven, Jake by @runa-falls [ MK system x F reader, porn star AU, 3.0k, E, threeshot ] Summary: as a fluffer, it’s your job to know how to keep the boys interested. each alter has their own preferences (porn star AU, smut)

Shadow of a Doubt by @writefightandflightclub [ Marc x F reader x Steven (x Jake), 7.1k, E, oneshot ] Summary: Marc was first. Steven was second. Khonshu’s never going to love you. …And you’re wondering if Jake will ever get there at all. (relationship/character exploration, some smut, angst with a hopeful ending)

Sting by @bits-and-babs [ Marc x F reader, 3.5k,E, oneshot ] Summary: Marc relies on your amateur skills to patch him up following a brutal fight. (blood, smut, pain kink)

Stone Heart by @magpie-to-the-morning [ Steven x demisexual F reader, 1.5k, T, twoshot ] Summary: Maybe Steven’s one-sided friendship isn’t so one-sided after all... AKA a Moon Knight Pygmalion AU (fluff, romance)

Take Care of You by @tropes-and-tales [ Steven x F reader x Marc, 3.8k, E, oneshot ] Summary: For Steven, it was love at first sight. For Marc, it was a slower thing. (smut, feeeeeeelings)

Where To, Miss? by @foxilayde [ Jake x F reader, E, 7.5k, oneshot ] Summary: Jake Lockley is your driver, escorting you safely in your nighttime travels. There’s something about him. Tonight, you’re going to find out what that something is. (violence, blood, and surprisingly soft smut)

— Intra-MK System Pairings — .

All this time I was just waiting for you by @nakimochiku [ Steven x Marc, E, 20.6k, complete ] Summary: Things never seem to go Steven’s way romantically. Marc helps him work on that. (pining, smut with feeeeeeelings)

in the aftermath by queenie [ Steven x Marc x Jake, E, 37.5k, complete ] Summary: Having his own body is strange (separated into their own bodies after the show AU, slow burn, eventual smut)

last night i watched myself sleep by sweaterlou [ Steven x Marc, E, 19.4k, complete ] Summary: A look into Marc and Steven's relationship progression; from sharing a body to sharing a bed. (pining, smut)

the loneliest number by unstuckintime [ Steven x Marc, 9.6k, E, complete ] Summary: The problem with Steven is that he wants so much and he’s so lonely. He’s so lonely and he asks Marc for it all the time. (smut, feeeeeeelings)

making two reflections into one by marin27 [ Steven x Marc, 101k (as of 9/22/22) , M , incomplete ] Summary: After falling into the sands of Duat, Steven is sent back in time to fix things. He may or may not end up fixing the wrong, but no less important, things. (TL;DR: The fic where Steven fixes his relationship with Marc as the Moon Knight plot happens in the background.) (back in time redo AU, slowburn, pining, feeeeeeelings)

Our Body by apartment [ Marc x Steven, 1.4k, E, oneshot ] Summary: There are benefits to sharing a body, Steven realizes, especially when getting kidnapped is commonplace these days. Or: the "you don't have him; he has you" meme, plus marc's attempts at being a boyfriend (violence, smut)

paths diverted by solarzenith [ Steven x Marc, separate bodies, 6.8k, E, oneshot ] Summary: Khonshu reanimates them, with an ultimatum: come back as one, or come back separate. Marc makes the decision readily, too easily, and Steven had no idea Marc wanted him out of their head so badly. (pining, angst with a happy ending, smut)

see through my act, tell me I'm wrong by snapdragonpop007 [ Marc/Jake x Steven, 31k, T, complete ] Summary: “Leave him alone,” Marc scowled up at Jake from the reflection on the tiled floor. Jake ignored Marc and made a beeline right towards the gift shop as The Man In The Gift Shop Named Steven got back to his feet and went back to the register. “Jake if you go in there I swear to god—” (Steven gets a separate body AU, slow burn, feeeeeeelings)

— Canon / MK System x Layla El Faouly — .

do not enter is written on the doorway (but you can stay) by FlowerCitti [ incidental Marc x Layla x Steven, 19.8k, M, complete ] Summary: When it came to heroes and other vigilantes, Marc didn’t have any interest in interacting with them. He travels with Khonshu’s will, continuing to protect those under the moon and following through with Khonshu’s severe judgments. He kills and keeps Khonshu content and fed, shielded under the darkness of night and the flickers of the moon. (Or, Marc meets the Avengers. And then gets shot in the head.) (plot-centric MCU crossover)

Marc/Layla Ficlet by @writefightandflightclub [ Marc x Layla, 0.3k, T, oneshot ] Summary: How did Marc tie the knot with Layla? (mild angst)

not quite a meet-cute by notmadderred [ MK system-centric, Marc x Layla x Steven, 8.3k, T, complete ] Summary: Layla meets Jake and things get complicated for both of them. (character exploration & bonding)

so this could be the death of me (or maybe just a better me) by @quinnathy [ MK system, Marc x Layla mention, 25k, T, complete ] Summary: One time Marc saves Steven, one time Jake saves Marc, and one time Steven saves Jake. (And so forth.) (character exploration and bonding, some angst)

To Sleep by @radiowallet [ Steven/Marc x Layla, 1.2k, T, drabble series, ongoing ] Summary: Sometimes Steven dreams. For Marc it's a nightmare. Layla El-Faouly does not sleep. (angst, yearning, mentions of canon-typical violence)

.

— Canon / Gen (no Pairing) — .

Jake's not very good, very bad day. No worse than that by Beyney [ Jake-centric, gen (no pairing), 6k, T, oneshot ] Summary: The Avengers think Moon Knight just has no marbles left to lose. The system is not amused. Khonshu is gleeful, and Jake just doesn't want to deal with this shit anymore. At least the god will keep bringing him back if this mission goes way more sideways than it already has, right? ...Right? (MCU crossover, Jake whump, violence/death mention, does some of the MCU crew a little bit dirty for the sake of the story)

That's all I've got for you for now, 'nonny, but this is definitely a non-exhaustive list. I've read so many wonderful MK fics, I'm sure I've missed some that should've been on here and will no doubt discover even more amazing stories in the future. Chances are I'll wind up coming back to add to the list, and you all should feel free to reblog/reply/send me an ask with your fav MK fics!!

Thank you for the ask, dear anon friend! And thank you for being patient with me—it turns out I have a lot more fav MK fics than I originally thought, and it took me a little while to get this list together. Hopefully they'll be something new-to-you here for you to enjoy! 💕

🧡 twp

.

Want more to read? Check out my other Author, Fic, & Fanwork Recs

[80pairsofcrocs]

baby scarab || 64

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

A/N : THERE IS NO MORE SCHEDULE, IM SORRY also thank you all sm for the support and requests :)))

please enjoy, and don't be shy if you want to be in the taglist, just ask <3, sorry for the long wait

pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic) reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader, jake lockley x (platonic)reader, layla el faouly x (platonic)reader

TW : medicine (pills), spidey stuff, violence, language, angst, kinda rushed? angst, more angst, yelling, mentions of past child abuse, let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

you were sat at the table in the kitchen the next morning while slowly picking at a muffin steven had made earlier.

marc sat across from you, and layla had left earlier as well.

it was silent. too silent. you could hear every drop of rain that fell on the ground a couple stories down.

that was until you decided to speak up.

"so... am i still grounded?" you ask uncomfortably.

marc sighs a runs a hand through his hair. "yes. but.. for less time. and i know this will.. absolutely break your heart but.. but..... oh motherfu- jake you do it"

"no"

"darling listen.." steven takes over. "we decided as a group.. and your mother and even khonshu agrees but... we've decided that you won't be able to be arachnid until you're eighteen.." your heart drops at stevens sentence.

"what..?" you ask shakily and marc sighs.

"i know it's hard to hear, but we really mean it this time. we can't have you out there getting hurt-"

"but you do it all the time!" you interrupt. "jake knows how important it is to me- he agrees that i should have freedom! right jake?" you look to him in the mirror and he gives you a sad look.

"wha- jake?! you too?! seriously- i- you've seen what i can do- i-" you cut yourself off, tearing up and putting your head in your hands, allows resting on the table.

steven sighs sadly. "it's okay darling, we're sorry but- you need to focus on your school work, i mean it's the beginning of march and you're failing almost all your classes! you haven't even been in school all too much either!" he raises his voice and you look up at him.

"you can't do this- it doesn't matter if i graduate i don't even know what i'm going to do in life- all i have are these stupid powers!" you tell back at him and a stern look takes over stevens face.

"no, you listen. you need to graduate, i'm not letting you throw your life away-"

"why not?! you're already taking away everything else!" you cut him off again.

steven scoffs, which is something unlike him to do. "excuse me? we are taking away one thing- and it hurts you don't you understand? it's gotten you kidnapped!" he raises his voice another notch.

you groan out of annoyance. "steven just stop- im not giving this up, i can't" you start. "there's people out there that need my help-"

"they have us, kid" marc says and you look to the mirror where he looks at you. "you aren't invincible! you're just a kid, you shouldn't be out there risking your life-"

"neither should you! what if one day khonshu can't heal you?! what- what if one day i just sit here like an idiot waiting for you to come home and you never do?!" you stand up from your seat.

"y/n we will always come home- but you however are young and inexperienced. you are more likely to die out there than we are" steven answers. "we can't lose you. we are doing this because we love you, i need you to understand that" he quiets his voice and you sigh, sitting back down.

"but that's why i-" you're interrupted by khonshu appearing in a thick fog before he turns to steven.

"we must go!" he shouts and you look to steven in a panic.

"no! i- i just got back-"

"darling listen, we will continue this when we get back but you have to promise me you'll stay here-"

"don't just leave! what's wrong with you?!-"

"casper is coming over to make sure you stay put- now we really have to go-" steven  continues to talk over you while his suit forms onto his body.

"steven this isn't fair-"

"don't talk to me about 'fair', now i love you, just stay here" steven days before leaving out the window, making you stare with wide eyes at all that just happened.

"great job 'dad'. sending my fucking boyfriend to come babysit me" you mutter under your breath as you speed walk to your room and slam the door shut, falling onto your bed face first.

that's when you immediately hear a knock at the front door and you groan out of annoyance.

"yeah okay- can't even get a fucking minute of peace" you mumble, swinging your door open to march to the front door.

you open it to see casper with a sad smile on his face. "are you okay?" he asks quietly and you sigh, dragging him in by his sleeve and shutting the door.

"i'm fine. it's not like you came here just to babysit me" you say sarcastically and sit down on the couch with your arms crossed.

casper sighs and goes to sit next to you. "i came here to make sure you're okay. and because i love you" he says honestly, and you look over to him.

"and to make sure i don't leave" you add and he shakes his head.

"even i know that i couldn't stop you if you really wanted to leave" he says and you nod. "that's true-"

"but you wouldn't. i can tell how exhausted you are right now" casper tells you and you look away, biting the inside of your cheek.

"i'm not even-"

"come on, marc told me everything that happened. have you even tried to sleep since then?" he asks and you stay quiet.

casper sighs and stands up in front of you, offering you a hand. "come on" is all he says before you take his hand.

he takes you to your room and pulls the blanket back on your bed.

you get the message and sit down, looking up at casper as he slips his shoes off before joining you.

"just get some sleep, okay? i'm worried about you" he pushes you down so that your head hits your pillow.

"i'm really not in the mood to sleep right now-" you try sitting back up and casper moves behind you to put his arms around your waist, keeping you from sitting up.

"casper-"

"you're not getting out of this and i'm not leaving until you fall asleep"

"how about you just don't leave at all"

"deal"

you smile to yourself before turning around in casper's arms to face him.

"and for the record, i love you too" you lean to press a kiss to casper's lips before burying your face in his neck.

casper sighs in content and hugs you closer, feeling almost just as tired as you were.

i'm not even two minutes both of you were fast asleep in each others arms, not a care in the world about anything that has ever happened.

meanwhile a few hours later you were still asleep, but in a different position.

you were on your back, head to the side while casper was still hugging your waist but with his face buried in your stomach.

and that's what jake had come home to.

he smiles as and shook his head before closing your door and quietly cleaning up the dried blood on his face.

it wasn't his by the way.

another hour passed and marc was extremely stressed about how tense them and you were before they left, and was almost scared of the next conversation you were going to have once you woke up.

he heard your door open a moment later and thought the worst.

that was until he realized it was casper and not you. he unknowingly let out a sigh of relief as casper approached him.

"how was she?" marc asks quietly and casper sits down next to him.

"justifiably angry" he starts. "i know that she understands why you're taking away arachnid, but it is a part of her now" he explains and marc sighs.

"i know but she's my kid.. she should be focusing on school, not listening to the news and going out to risk her life everyday" marc rants and casper nods.

"i miss her" casper confesses. "the real y/n. she used to try, like actually try. she had a job, and she tried her hardest in school but now.. she's changed so much" he takes a breath. "and i get that she's been going through things lately, like being kidnapped and- and taken by the police but- i need her back" he looks tearfully to marc, who gives him a concerned look.

"i can't let her destroy herself, i just can't" casper hides his tears behind his hands. "i love her marc. i would do anything to make her happy again"

marc puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. "i.. i know how that feels" he starts. "i'm glad she found someone like you.. and i hate that i just admitted that" casper smiles slightly at marc's comment and wiped his tears away.

"thank you, sir"

"call me marc.. you've earned it" marc mumbles and casper nods before marc furrows his brows in thought.

and that was when jake fronted, and casper noticed a change.

"you guys didn't actually have sex did you?" jake questions and casper quickly shakes his head

"no- no. we didn't..." he says.

"but?" jake adds and casper sighs.

"she.. she tried to get something started and i could tell she didn't want it" casper starts. "i.. i stopped her before anything actually happened.."

jake looks down at the ground. "..are you both okay?" he asks and casper nods.

"yeah, i.. i know she wasn't in the right headspace.... and i knew she was hurting" he finishes and jake nods.

"thank you"

casper looks confused. "for what? i just did the right thing- anybody would've done it-"

"no i.. we thank you for protecting her. even though she's technically a 'superhero' she still needs someone" jake starts. "someone like you" he admits and casper smiles slightly.

he's about to say something when you come wandering out, yawning and wiping away the tear stains from your cheeks.

nobody said anything. you just stood looking at them.

"you guys were talking about me.. weren't you?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"all good things" casper tells you. he thought that one little lie couldn't hurt, as long as you didn't use all your energy up again from crying and being overall angry.

"does this mean you have to go home?" you ask him, not even bothering to acknowledge jake.

casper sighs. "i believe it does.. but we will see each other at school tomorrow, and i can help you get caught up" he offers while standing up.

you simply nod and tiredly walk over to him, wrapping your arms around him waist in a hug.

casper hugs you back and when you let go he heads to the door.

"i'll see you tomorrow, y/n. take care of yourself for me" he says before leaving.

you stare at the door for a moment before looking hesitantly at jake.

there was an awkward silence before either of you said anything.

"are you still mad at us?" jake asks which earns a scoff from marc at his bad choice in starting a conversation.

you furrow your brows and cross your arms in front of your chest. "what do you think, dip shit?" you retort and jake stands up with his hands on his hips.

"disculpe?" jake responds and you look away from him with a shake of your head.

"hey- look at me when i'm talking to you" he says sternly so with attitude, you look back at jake, who seemed to switch.

"don't call him that" steven starts, taking his hands off his hips to put them in his sweaters pockets. "you don't get to swear at us like that-"

"yeah? but what stopped me before?" you interrupt and steven takes a deep breath.

"don't interrupt me, and when you did it before it wasn't to hurt us- you better apologize to him or so help me-"

"so help you what? what are you going to do? send my boyfriend back here to babysit me while you go fuck around in your stupid suit?" you start angrily. "how about taking my phone- oh wait! you already have! god knows when i'll fucking get it back!"

"you watch your tone-"

"i'm not finished 'steven'" you say his name as if it's a curse in your mouth. "bet you're regretting adopting me now, huh? it's all been shits and giggles up until you took everything away from me! first my phone- and- and then arachnid- what's next?! are you going to starve me?! resort to beating me, because i damn well deserve it!"

stevens eyes widen at your words and the fact that your angrily yelling at him, marc and jake are just as shocked but can't find anything to possibly say.

"why did you even adopt me?! why bother trying- you've never been around kids before- and marc's had a bunch of trauma associated with it so why?!" you yell in stevens face and he hesitates in putting a hand on each of your shoulders.

"listen. we love you y/n, please just tell us why you're so worked up" he offers quietly and calmly and you stare up at him confused.

"..what...- you- answer my damn question!" you shove his hands off you you.

"we adopted you because we all saw part of ourselves in you.." steven starts.

that's when marc fronted. it was getting to be a bit too much for steven.

"even before jake.. me and steven both saw a part of ourselves in you. and you were hurting. you were overworked with school and your job, and you were being bullied at school- we had to at least help you" he starts and you calm down enough to listen.

"we.. grew attached. we became protective over you because we saw you as our kid. i have always had trouble expressing.. feelings... and so have you now please, please just tell us what's bothering you" he takes a breath. "please baby, i know you're hurting just tell us how we can help you" his voice breaks at the end of his sentence and you look down at the ground.

it's silent for a minute while you try and hold back tears.

"i.. if i can't help then what's the point..?" you start slowly, still staring at the floor. "i don't want to just sit here and do nothing... nobody else knows what's going on out there with harrow- and- and all that shit- i just want to stop it. it's my fault" you take a deep breath.

"i should've died out there where my mother left me.." you manage to rasp out before marc looks at you in absolute terror.

he moves his hands to each side of your face to lift your head up so he could look you in the eyes.

"don't you ever say that again, you hear me? nothing is your fault- and we're sorry for being so hard on you when you got home but you need to learn. you need to have a life outside arachnid, where you can get a job you love- maybe have a family of your own one day but you can't do that it you're constantly being hurt physically and emotionally" he pauses. "you need a break"

you don't say anything but your eyes gather with tears as you take in a shaky breath.

"..i'm sorry...." you manage to squeak out before tumbling into full blown sobs.

"i'm so sorry- i didn't mean to yell at you guys! i know why you do these things and i shouldn't take my anger out on you it's not fair! i'm sorry- i'm so so sorry-!" you get pulled into marc's chest, and your arms fall around his shoulders as you cry your heart out into his shirt.

"shh.. it's okay, we know you. we know you don't mean those things-"

"no marc you don't understand! i've been a horrible person to you guys and you didn't even do anything-"

"no. stop thinking like that, okay? i only want to hear you say good things about yourself, none of this self deprecating bullshit" marc rubs your back as you calm down, and you refuse to look up at him.

"i'm sorry.." you wipe your face. "stevens suit isn't stupid.. it's great" you sniff.

"it's okay darling, are you feeling better?" steven speaks up through the mirror on the wall.

"i shouldn't have yelled at you.." you say quietly, and wipe at your wet cheeks again.

"it's alright, you were just blowing off steam.. but next time just talk to us okay?" steven requests gently and you nod.

"good, now you seriously need to eat something, you're going to pass out from exhaustion" marc says and guides you back to the kitchen table where your muffin still sits from earlier in the day.

"if you want something else-"

"no.. it's fine" you cut him off and start taking small bites of the muffin.

you eat your muffin while marc sits across from you at the table, trying to decide if he should say anything.

he overall decides to, with the help of steven and jake.

"is there anything else bothering you..?" he asks and you look up at him and nod slightly.

he tilts his head at you as if asking you to go on.

you sigh and look down at the table, specifically the empty muffin wrapper.

"i just.. i miss how we used to be. i've been a terrible girlfriend to casper too.." you voice your worries and marc sighs.

"i miss you too. you lost yourself for a while and we are all here to help you, you know that" he starts. "and don't worry about casper. that kid loves you so much, i've seen it"

you look up at him and nod, slowly standing up from your chair, making marc do the same.

you slowly walk over to him to snake your arms around his waist and rest your forehead on his chest.

marc gently puts a hand around the back of your head and the other around your shoulder.

"it's okay. you'll be okay, kid" he tells you, which makes you tear up again.

you stood there with him for what felt like hours, and he didn't mind one bit.

steven and jake let him have this moment with you, letting him hold you while you calmed yourself.

who knows what the future would bring from here?

would you turn yourself around? would you go back to being an angst teenager?

but more importantly, would you lose someone close to you..?

i guess we won't know until later.

much later.

you thought this was going to be the end of this little chapter of your life didn't you?

tsk. you should know me better than that by now-

anyways, now, you're doing much better. it was now middle of april and you've gotten your grades up to C's, you get your phone for the day, and your dads take it at night and charge it in the kitchen.

your cats are no longer kittens, they have matured to the point where they fight for a spot on your bed, and whoever loses has to usually sleep with marc.

you'd gone on a couple dates with casper, who had gotten his first job at an ice cream parlor about 5 minutes away from his house.

so of course, he had to spoil you and take you to a fancy restaurant.

with a live quartet too. he wore the nicest clothes he had, and you did as well.

layla lent you an old dress of hers for the occasion, it was dark red with gold accents around the trim.

casper thought you crash landed there from heaven that night.

now back to present day, casper was walking you home from school while you fidgeted with your phone.

casper noticed the nervous tick, so he spoke up. "hey, you feeling alright?" he asks and you nod slightly.

"yeah.. just.. evie asked me to go to a party with her tonight and i'm nervous to ask my dads" you voice your worries and casper hums.

"well the worst they can do is say no" he points out and you turn your head to smile at him.

"i know. i guess i just needed reassurance, so thank you" you say kindly and casper opens the door to your apartment building for you.

"it's no problem. do you want me to come up with you?" he asks.

"no, that's okay. you should get home and get your brace off, i know it's been itching lately" you offer and casper chuckles.

"well i'll see you tomorrow then" he smiles.

you nod and lean in to give him a quick peck on the lips before backing up to the elevator.

"i love you, see you tomorrow" you smile and he waves before leaving.

you get a bit nervous in the elevator, watching the numbers rise as you reach your floor.

'the worst they can do is say no' you chant in your head before unlocking the door.

you walk in and leave your bag by the door while steven made tea at the stove.

"hey darling, how was school?" he turns to you for a second with a grin.

"it was good.." you say and steven turns to you with a confused look on his face.

"and..?" he asks and you fidget with your fingers before looking up at him.

"evie invited me to a party tonight.." you say quietly and steven looks over to the mirror on the wall.

"but it's fine if you want me to stay here i understand-"

"how much homework do you have?" marc asks and you blink a few times before answering.

"casper helped me finish it all during lunch"

marc sighs before nodding to steven.

"you can.. you can be out until 11 at the latest. and we will drive you there and back. you're lucky it's a weekend" he jokes and you smile at him.

"you mean it? i can go?" you ask excitedly.

steven nods. "you've been doing better, i think.. we think it'll be a nice reward for you, to keep you motivated, you know?"

"thank you!" you rush to hug steven and both marc and jake smile at you through the mirror.

steven reluctantly pulls away as jake speaks up. "now go clean your room"

"okay!- thanks dads!" you yell as you run to your room to begin cleaning.

i mean, what's the harm in letting you go to a party with your friend?

you've pulled yourself together and began focusing on school and your relationships with your loved ones.

you were finally you again.

what could possibly go wrong?

~~~

A/N : omg this took way too long, but IM BACK!! i have more time to write now and im back in my baby scarab mindset lol. hope you enjoyed, and ill see you later!!

~~~

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[anonymousewrites]

Burden of Truth (Book 1) Chapter One

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Reader

Chapter One: In the Alps

Summary: (Y/N) goes to the Alps to find Ammit's scarab. They encounter much more trouble than they ever had before.

            (Y/N) tugged on the ends of their sweatshirt as they walked through the village. The search for the scarab of Ammit had brought them unexpectedly to the Austrian Alps, but according to their information, the Followers of Ammit’s leader, Arthur Harrow, had many cult members there, and (Y/N) had to get to the scarab before he got possession of it.

            Everyone in the village headed towards the town square, and (Y/N) drifted easily into the flow. If they caught sight of the person delivering the scarab, (Y/N) would pick their pocket and be on their way. They glanced over the crowd. They just had to be careful of the men with guns.

            Their eyes landed on a man with a white hood pulled over his head. (Y/N) frowned. Isn’t that Khonshu’s avatar? They watched him look around almost in fright. That wasn’t like the man they’d seen before. He’d seemed much more self-assured then.

            Still, (Y/N) remained on guard. They had never met an avatar other than him, and Khonshu hadn’t seemed nice, so (Y/N) wasn’t sure about getting closer.

            Their attention went back to the crowd as they all came to a stop at the town square. Murmurs and excited whispers went up as they parted to let a single man walk through.

            Harrow strolled through the crowd as they looked at him reverently. His cane tapped the ground rhythmically. Ammit’s followers bowed and murmured praise to him, thanking him for his presence and for the guidance of Ammit.

            (Y/N) shivered at how honest all the devotion was.

            The people around them jostled to get to the front. They all wanted to reach out to Harrow and even just brush his clothes. (Y/N) and Khonshu’s Avatar ended up nearer, and (Y/N) averted their gaze. They didn’t really want to deal with him. If he was there, it meant something dangerous might happen, and (Y/N) had done a very good job working in the shadows for seven years. They didn’t need it to change now.

            “What a beautiful day,” said Harrow in English. “It’s like we’re in heaven.” He chuckled. “Only it’s not heaven, isn’t it? It’s a darkness.” He smiled kindly. “Sometimes it hides in our very hearts. We are here to make Earth as much like Heaven as possible.” Harrow looked around with a benevolent expression. “Who’d like to go first?”

            (Y/N) watched as a young man stepped forward. They were about to see firsthand what had made Ma’at dislike Ammit so much, what made her want Harrow to never get closer to her teachings and power.

            “You are a brave man, offering your soul for judgement,” said Harrow.

            Judging before their time, before their death? thought (Y/N). But they have no Feather of Truth for their hearts to be weighed against. This was nothing but a perversion of the Judgement of the Dead.

            “Wanting to serve out goddess even before she wakes,” said Harrow.

            He rolled up his sleeves, and (Y/N) spotted the tattoo of scales on his forearm. He balanced his crocodile-headed cane in the man’s hands. The cane began to rock back and forth, and the scales on Harrow’s forearm moved with them.

            “I judge you in Ammit’s name with but a fraction of her power,” declared Harrow.

            The scales balanced and turned green. The crowd gasped, and Harrow smiled at the young man.

            “This is the face of a good man!�� he said benevolently. He hugged them, and applause went up in the crowd.

            “Who would like to go next?” said a man next to Harrow.

            “Me,” said an old woman. “Please, Harrow, I must know.”

            “Call me Arthur.” Harrow extended a kindly hand to her. “Come.” She stepped up to him and allowed him to take her hands. “Will you accept your scales, regardless of the outcomes?”

            “Yes,” said the woman.

            The cane swung back and forth, and the woman stared at Harrow’s scales apprehensively. They froze unbalanced and turned a sickening red.

            “I’m sorry,” said Harrow sadly, but (Y/N) felt the lie. He was happy to rid the world of people judged to be unrighteous.

            “I’ve been good my entire life,” said the woman desperately, unable to understand the results of her judgement.

            “I believe you,” said Harrow. Truth. “But the scales see everything. Perhaps it’s something that lies ahead. He sighed. “Well, I wish you could live to see the world we make. Yet, Ammit has decided.”

            The woman gave a gasp that died in her throat. Her body froze before collapsing, dead.

            (Y/N)’s stomach twisted, and they grimaced as every part of them surged angrily at the injustice of these people being given no chance, even for their future. It went against the proper order of life. It was just wrong, and (Y/N) could feel it.

            Harrow knelt sadly beside her body before it was carried away. One of his men walked up and crouched, holding his gun tightly.

            “I’m sorry. There was a problem with the exchange,” he said in German.

            Someone already took the scarab? thought (Y/N). Their eyes went to Khonshu’s Avatar.

            “We got ambushed. Someone killed two of our men,” continued the man.

            It was definitely Khonshu’s Avatar’s doing.

            Harrow stood. “Is he still here?”

            “We think so, yes,” said the guard.

            They know his face, thought (Y/N), glancing at him again.

            Harrow looked out over the crowd. “Bow to Ammit!” he said in Ancient Egyptian.

            The entire crowd knelt ((Y/N), too, to blend in). Khonshu’s Avatar was late, having no idea what the order was and not being part of the cult.

            “Oh, bollocks,” cursed Khonshu’s avatar.

            (Y/N) frowned. That was a totally different accent, English (weird English, too) instead of American. What was going on?

            “You,” said Harrow, looking at him. “I know you.”

            “Me? Hi, uh…” The avatar stood up nervously.

            “Mercenary,” said Harrow coldly, and all eyes went to Khonshu’s avatar.

            “ ‘Mercenary?’ ” repeated the man nervously as the crowd stood up again. “No, no. I’m not a mercenary. No, I’m a gift shop-ist. I work at a gift shop. My name’s Steven Grant.”

            No lies at all, thought (Y/N). He really was Steven Grant and worked at a gift shop. Which, incidentally, made the whole situation more complicated because Harrow was also telling the truth. A regular job as cover? But what about the accents?

            “I’m trying to get back home. To London,” said Steven nervously as Harrow approached. “London? I dunno why I’m saying it like that.”

            “Well, Steven Grant of the gift shop,” said Harrow.

            “Yeah?” said Steven.

            “Will you return to the scarab?” said Harrow, holding out his hands.

            Shit, can’t let him have it, thought (Y/N). Now that they’d seen Harrow judge people and kill them, they knew that even beyond Ma’at’s instructions they needed to stop him. (Y/N) refused to let innocent people get hurt.

            “The…The what?” said Steven, confused. “Oh, alright.” He patted his pockets nervously. “Yeah, the…Oh, you mean…” He pulled the scarab out of his pocket. He stared at in, not having expected it to be there.

            “You will give him nothing.”

            Khonshu’s voice echoed over the street, and Steven looked around for it wildly. He swallowed and held out the scarab to Harrow anyways.

            No! thought (Y/N). They took a step forward.

            Harrow reached out. Steven’s fingers closed suddenly over the scarab. He looked at them in confusion.

            “I strongly encourage you to return that,” said Harrow.

            “I’m not-I’m…” Steven stammered, perplexed. He glared at his fingers, willing them to open. “I’m try—” He hit his hand with his other. “Come on, now. It’s like my fingers froze.” He tried to peel open his fingers. “But here’s some of that…I don’t know, maybe it’s part of the high altitude or something.” He managed to open his hand and grabbed the scarab. “Aha! There, take it, so strange. Sorry, but—” Steven’s hand swiveled behind him, again unbidden.

            “I will not ask again,” said Harrow firmly.

            “I didn’t do that on purpose,” said Steven. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

            Completely truthful, thought (Y/N). This whole thing was proving strange.

            Steven turned his whole body in an attempt to his hand nearer to Harrow. “There, take it, take it.”

            (Y/N) couldn’t let that happen. They darted out and snatched the scarab. Steven and Harrow’s eyes widened, but (Y/N) didn’t wait around to find out their other reactions. They turned and made a run for it.

            “Grab them,” ordered Harrow.

            Several adults emerged from the ground and grabbed for (Y/N). They dodged through a few, but two snagged their arms. (Y/N) yelped and pulled to get away. It didn’t work, so they just curled their fist closed around the scarab, refusing to let go.

            “Who are you?” said Harrow, tilting his head in confusion as his people tried to pry their hand open.

            “Hey, wait, mate, you can’t hurt a kid,” said Steven, brow creasing in concern.

            “Stay out of this, worm,” said Khonshu’s voice.

            Ma’at remained silent, apparently uninterested in getting near Khonshu again.

            The people holding (Y/N) twisted their arm, and they cried out, straining to keep control of their arm. They couldn’t let Harrow get the scarab, not when he was going to hurt people.

            Steven’s eyes rolled into his head for a moment before returning to glare at Harrow and Ammit’s followers. The entire body language had changed.

            “Finally,” said Khonshu.

            Not-Steven—this wasn’t Steven—surged forwards and attacked the people trying to take the scarab for Harrow. He pulled them off of (Y/N) and punched them violently. One tried to attack him in return, but he kicked him to the ground and stomped on his head. (Y/N) stumbled back as their attacker let go, and Not-Steven swung for his head, catching the scarab as it fell. Another grabbed for (Y/N) again, and Not-Steven hit them in the face with the scarab. All the people fell to the ground against Not-Steven, left with bloody knuckles from no wounds on himself.

            (Y/N) stared in surprise, as did Harrow and the crowd. Not-Steven turned to face Harrow, and then his eyes rolled into his head once more. He blinked furiously and looked around in confusion.

            “No, the idiots back,” grumbled Khonshu’s voice.

            Oh. (Y/N) put it together. Dissociative Identity Disorder. Steven and Not-Steven were alters, and one was clearly more of Khonshu’s avatar than the other. (Y/N) had met Not-Steven a year ago, and now they had encountered Steven.

            Steven cleared his throat uncomfortably as he stared at his bloody hands. “S-Sorry…” He put his hands up and glanced at (Y/N). “A-Are you alright?”

            (Y/N) nodded sharply, but they warily eyed the crowd backing off. They needed to get out of that village now. They had been seen by Harrow, which made them a target. If they didn’t leave with the scarab, (Y/N) was going to be killed. Or at least judged, which may end in death.

            “We need to go,” said (Y/N), taking a step back as Harrow and the crowd approached again.

            “Right, right…” Even Steven knew that was the best course of action now. He looked at Harrow warily. “I’m just gonna…we’re gonna go, alright? Yeah.”

            Steven and (Y/N) ran around the crowd, dodging behind tractors and barrels before they could be grabbed. The only escape route they could see was the cupcake-truck. But, seeing as they were desperate, (Y/N) and Steven jumped on.

            “Don’t you dare drop that scarab,” said Khonshu.

            “Alright, alright, alright!” shouted Steven, starting the vehicle.

            “Go, go, go!” said (Y/N), kicking away someone trying to open their door and locking it tightly.

            “We’re going!” cried Steven, stepping on the gas and speeding out of the village onto the roads beyond. “What am I doing, what am I doing?! I don’t even have my license.”

            “Just don’t crash,” said (Y/N), as encouraging as they could be considering the circumstances. They looked behind them. “We’ve got a lot of company.”

            “This has to be a dream,” said Steven nervously.

            “It’s not, Steven,” said (Y/N), grimacing as they saw Harrow’s men catching up. The cupcake van wasn’t going to outrun them.

            “They’re gonna kill us!” cried Steven as he wound around the curves of the roads.

            He tried to speed up, but a chicken-transportation truck appeared in front of them, and he had to slow down. The followers of Ammit rammed into them from the back.

            (Y/N) grit their teeth and squeezed their eyes shut. This isn’t 2018. This isn’t 2018. They weren’t going to die in a car accident. They weren’t.

            Steven honked and swerved around the truck of chickens. “Come on, move your ass!” he grimaced as he saw the old lady glaring at him. “Thank you. So sorry. Thank you.”

            Shots rang out, and a guard jumped from the front of his car to the back the cupcake van. He pulled at the doors, letting them swing wildly in the wind.

            (Y/N) scrambled into the back of the van and kicked him back. The guard fell onto the road, and they grimaced as the cars hit him and kept going. No sooner was he down, though, then another man jumped towards the open back. This time, he kept his gun raised, and (Y/N) dodged to the side. He grabbed for Steven and the scarab, and (Y/N) grabbed his ankle, tripping him. He stumbled and aimed downwards at him with his gun. Alongside them, another car was pulling up with a man with his gun trained on Steven.

            “Wait, no!” shouted Steven, and (Y/N) pushed back to try to avoid being shot.

            In the next moment, Steven—No, Not-Steven—grabbed the man aiming for (Y/N) and smashed his head into the steering wheel. He jerked back, and Not-Steven grabbed his gun. In one fluid motion, he shot the driver of the other car, sending it careening off into the mountain, and he shot the man aiming for (Y/N), letting his body fall back and out of the van.

            No sooner was it done than his eyes rolled again, and Steven dropped the gun in shock and disgust. “I don’t understand what’s happening!” cried Steven.

            “Truck!” shouted (Y/N), grabbing the seat they were behind as Steven screamed and swerved violently around a log truck. It tipped over and crushed a pursuing car.

            Two others pulled up on either side of the van and tried to hit the sides of the cupcake truck. A man on either side raised a gun and aimed.

            (Y/N) ducked and prepared to take the wheel if Steven got shot.

            His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and Not-Steven’s eyes focused. He glanced at (Y/N) before spinning the wheel. (Y/N) held onto the seat as the van spun around, hit one car, and ended up backwards. The car crashed off the side of the mountain, and now the cupcake truck faced the final car pursuing them.

            Not-Steven’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and Steven focused again.

            “I’m driving backwards!” he cried.

            “Watch out!” said (Y/N), bracing as the car behind(?) them tried to hit them.

            Steven threw the gun at the car, and (Y/N) groaned.

            “Did he just throw the gun?!”

            “I don’t know what I’m doing!” said Steven.

            “Then leave us be, parasite!”

            Steven panicked and turned the wheel, spinning the car around again. They sped towards the forest in the valley, and then…the engine died.

            They coasted to a stop, and the car behind them pulled up to block the road in front. The men got out, readied their guns, and headed towards them.

            “Come on,” said (Y/N), pulling Steven towards the back of the van to escape.

            At the perfect moment, the logs that had come off the truck from earlier landed on the road and crushed the men.

            “Oh, shit!” cried Steven.

            “Oh, god,” said (Y/N), eyes widening. What an unfortunate way to go. Still…it meant they were alive.

            “We need to go.”

            (Y/N) glanced at the man beside them. It was Not-Steven again.

            “Do you still have the scarab?” said (Y/N), following Not-Steven.

            “Yeah,” said Not-Steven. They headed into the woods and walked along the road towards the next town over.

            “What’s your name?” asked (Y/N).

            “Marc,” said Not-Steven. He glanced back at them. “You’re Ma’at’s avatar.”

            (Y/N) nodded. “You’re Khonshu’s.”

            Marc narrowed his eyes. “Yeah.”

            “…I’m (Y/N),” said (Y/N). They realized they should have introduced themself earlier.

            Marc nodded. “Do you have a way back to…wherever you live?”

            “Ma’at will tell me where I need to go next,” said (Y/N). “I’ll figure it out from there.”

            Marc frowned. “You don’t live anywhere?”

            “No?” said (Y/N).

            Marc looked at them and furrowed his brow before turning back to the front. “Be careful.”

            “I know,” said (Y/N). They were the avatar of a god and took back (stole) relics from criminals regularly. They wouldn’t be alive if they didn’t know to be careful.

            But, still, there was something nice about someone saying it instead of (Y/N) having to just take care of themself.

l

            “You were filming our judgement, correct?” Harrow smiled at a young woman.

            She nodded. “Yes, Mr. Harrow.”

            “Please, call me Arthur,” said Harrow. “Would you mind if I took a look?”

            “Of course, Mr-Arthur,” said the young woman.

            “Thank you,” said Harrow, smiling.

            “Mr. Harrow,” said one of his guards, walking up to him. “They got away with the scarab, but we’re already tracking down ‘Steven Grant.’ ”

            “Good,” said Harrow. He held up the phone with a still of the crowd from the video. “And I need you to figure out who this is.” (Y/N)’s face stared out of the crowd.

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[yikesitskennawrites]

Transitions-Chapter Thirty-Seven: Staying With Layla

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Pairings: Steven Grant x (platonic) Reader, Marc Spector x (platonic) Reader, Jake Lockley x (platonic) Reader, Layla El-Faouly x (platonic) Reader

—

Layla lived about twenty five minutes away from your own building and about forty minutes away from your work. The brick-building was tall and had a row of four windows stretching from one end of the building to the other on each floor, a total of sixteen windows. There was a patch of bushes without leaves in front of the building and some green grass. A total of three concrete steps lead up to the entrance which had double brown wooden doors and golden knobs. Jake put the car into park and turned off the engine. You both sat in the quiet, waiting for the other to say something. You don’t know Jake very well, but you do think that he stole the car, especially when there’s photos of someone's animals and family members taped to the dash; but the question of his morals doesn’t leave your mouth; it doesn’t matter, does it? 

He exits the car and pulls open the back seat, grabbing the duffle bag Jake stole from Marc and swings it over his shoulder. The car door shuts and he walks around to your side, pulling open the door and holding it for you. He looks sick, his face is a little paler than usual and the bags underneath his eyes are more visible. He is suffering the consequences of Marc's actions. It probably isn't the first or the last time. You exit the car and he shuts the door, making sure the car locks so he won’t have to steal another one before he leads you up the steps and into the building. It has a dim hallway, the lighting wasn’t bright and the lack of natural light entering into the narrow walkway just made it feel more claustrophobic. You think the wall paper is green or maybe it’s paint, it's just too hard to tell. There were four doors in the hallway, two on each side. You have never been to an apartment complex with this small number of residents on each floor. It must be an old building.

At the end of the hallway was a small elevator and Jake walked straight towards it, not bothering to even glance at the photos of flowers hung on the walls or the welcome mats in front of residents' doors. The elevator looked old, but you think the owners of the building tried to refurbish it by painting over the metal doors with gold color paint, you can clearly see some spots that were scratched off and a rusted brown lie underneath. The elevator wobbles as the door shuts which causes your breath to hitch. There were five buttons for five floors, from the bottom was a basement level and the top was the fourth floor. Which was pressed and colored in a dim red. 

Shifting your eyes to the closed doors in front of you, you can see the blurry reflection of you and Jake. It was kind of looking like a funhouse mirror that was tampered with. There was no screen to show what floor you are on but rather the faint beeping with, what you can only assume, is the passing of each floor. The walls of the box had the same look of the funhouse mirror and chipped paint, you wonder how many times this elevator goes out of order, especially when it jolts as it comes to a stop and the doors slide open with a loud creaking noise. Does maintenance fix the elevator quicker than the people who work in your building? Or does it take weeks to months for them to come around and fix it?

Jake exits the elevator and you follow him, the hallway looks almost identical to the first floor except there are no photos of flowers or anything to help brighten up the place and make it look welcoming. But there is a window at the end of it that looks like it has a fire escape and it helps brighten up the walkway. Gray clouds cover up the blue in the sky, you think it was supposed to rain for the remainder of the week. He leads you to the second door on the left side of the hallway. A rusted number of sixteen was screwed into the door and below that was a small peephole. In your head, you did the math. There were four residents on the bottom floor and there's four floors. So four times four is sixteen, which makes Layla's number the final apartment. You aren’t surprised that Layla would choose a flat on the top floor and at the end of it, it protects herself from any possible intruders and gives her an advantage. 

Jake raises his hand and knocks once. The sound was loud to your ears in the small space and you almost wince because of it. You don’t hear any shuffling or noise in the apartment you’re standing outside of which makes you think Layla isn’t in there. You don’t think Jake called ahead to ask if she was in her apartment or out running errands whether that be another mission or grocery shopping; so when the door does crack open just a bit to show the chain lock and the peeking of Layla before slamming shut and opening just a moment later, you’re surprised she is there.

“What happened?” She asks as she takes one long look at you, eyes scanning your face before trailing over the rest of your body, searching for any visible injuries Stevens sweater couldn’t hide. The question makes your throat close and it becomes difficult to breathe. It’s a simple question, she wants to know what happened for you to make a sudden appearance without warning; but the answer is so complicated and you are terrified that she will hate you even more when she hears it. 

“Creo que es mejor que dejemos descansar al pequeño.” He says in return to her question. You watch her eyes flicker towards Jake before she steps back and holds open the door a little wider to let you through. Jake gently places a hand on your shoulder and pushes you through the doorway and into the small hallway of Layla's flat. The floors were a light wooden color, not the deep mahogany you were used to in your own place and Stevens. The kitchen was on your right, it was small and spacious, a vase of daisies rested on the counter. To your left was a supply closet door with you guessed, was where Layla stores brooms and mops and any other cleaning supply. 

The hallway opened up into a living room. A white couch that looks a bit too expensive for you to sit on faces the flat screen hanging on the wall.On either side of the couch were end tables with light stands resting on them. A bit to the right of the sitting room was a square dining table with a set of four chairs and papers and books covered it just like Stevens. Tucked into the back was a bookshelf full of old looking items, vases, small statues, and books with yellowed pages sat on the shelves. It wasn’t hard to come to the conclusion that these are trinkets from her adventures. To the far left of the room, the white curtains of the windows were open and tied back to allow more natural light to pass through the glass. 

Tucked into one end of the room was a door that was slightly open and you can see the ceramic sink against the wall which made you guess it was a bathroom. On the other end was a matching door that was also cracked open and you can see the bed sheets of the mattress on the box spring. Jake lets go of your shoulder and sets the bag onto the floor behind the couch and you stare at the television. The screen is dark and you can barely see your reflection in it. You know that Marc and Steven are staring back from it or any other possible surface, they were probably analyzing you in every possible moment since you admitted what you did, that you took a life and you want to die. What do they think of you? Should it matter?

You glance away from the screen and towards the adults in the room, Jake was sharing a look with Layla, one that you recognize all too well from the looks your own parents used to occasionally share. Talk with me in private, it said and Layla trails her eyes over to you. She takes you in one last time before she nods and gestures outside of the apartment. They walk to the exit and shut the door behind them. You’re kind of glad that Jake is the one to break the news to her because you don’t think that you can. You don’t want to see the pitying looks that may cross her features or the ones filled with realization and possible fear because if this human did this to somebody, they may do it to me. 

You don’t want to see the confirmation on her face of what you already know, that you are a murderer and you need to go to jail for your crimes. Everything bad that has happened is because of you and the dead eyes that have been staring at you without end since the mall agrees too. The man on the floor below you and wheezing through the hole in his throat voices his own agreement with the noise leaving his throat in gargles of blood and fighting for air. The next time that Layla and Jake will return through that door they both will be on the same page, both with the same knowledge of what you have done and both with some form of opinion on you. You already know what that opinion is: they hate you and they know you killed way too many people, it will be best to send you off back to the states and you will go without a fight.

There is too much blood on your young hands. There shouldn’t be any but you have it dripping off of you until it forms a lake and drowns everyone around you in it. You’re killing everyone just by existing. Soon, Layla and your neighbors will become more blood on your hands, it’s better for everyone if you’re just no longer around. Whether that means you move back to New York or you find what death has in store for you. Which do you deserve more? A longer life with guilt and behind bars for fraud and your remaining family members being told that you are alive after believing you're dead for seven years, two of which are post blip; or, whatever forever punishment death has for you?

You killed people, one of them still rests in your flat since it’s too bright outside to get rid of the body. That one person has been bleeding out and staining the floorboards and seeping through them. Literally decomposing in your apartment, and one of the thoughts that crossed your mind was that your deposit was never going to get returned and you are a terrible person for that. You just took a life and you were worried about your money being returned to you, you should be ashamed of yourself. You already were, but even more ashamed, you deserve so much worse than what you did to the people in the mall and the man you stabbed to death. 

Nine times, Jake said he saw nine stab wounds when the deity told you it would take eight. You remember stabbing him eight times, you even kept count so you wouldn’t do extra or do less and keep him suffering for a longer time. So where did the ninth stab wound come from? Did you black out for a moment or did you miscount? What happened to cause that ninth wound? What did you do? 

The door creaks open and closes while a pair of footsteps walk back towards you. You keep your eyes trained on the floor as they approach, here comes the pitying looks or the angry glares that you don’t want to see. You see Layla's feet before you hear her voice, she wore slippers with a bunny face on the ends of them. She was resting on her day off and you crashed it. She was recuperating from the mall yesterday and you show up to her doorstep unannounced and ruin it. She hates you even more, she can’t even get a break from you. 

“Sit for me, okay?” She asks gently, but the voice sounds loud to your own ears. You wince at the noise and walk around the couch before sitting on the edge of the cushions precariously so you won’t ruin them with your touch. You keep your eyes on your hands in your lap as you listen to the footsteps round the couch and stop in front of you. You can see the brown leather shoes that Jake is wearing, dry mud was splattered on the sides without removing your eyes from your hands. 

“Layla's going to take care of you, alright?” He says. “It’s just like before, only this time she’s going to take care of you here until you are ready to come back.” So, they’re trading you off like a problem child to their divorced parents in a Walmart parking lot. Nobody wants you and they all hate you. Just wait until Lauren finds out what you have done, the only normal person in your life will hate you too.  

“You have Marcs and Stevens number, if you need anything just call, alright, pequeño?” He says quietly. It was too quiet, his voice is usually rough and authoritative but this was too soft for him and you don't like it one bit. He should be screaming and yelling at you, he should be showing some form of anger or regret with you. He should be telling you how you killed all those people and to prepare yourself to be one of his targets for Khonshus fist of vengeance. But, no, he is being nice or just doing his job of protecting the system. Jake Lockley, Mister I Don’t Front Unless I Have To, was being present to drop you off at daycare.

“Do you want to talk to them before we go?” He asks. Your index finger picks at your thumb as you keep your eyes trained on your hand. You don’t think you can face them and say goodbye with everything that was said last night and this morning. They have seen what you’ve done and you don’t want to hear them call you a monster for it or tell you how they should have called the police on you the first day they met you; or even at that bar they were at last night. It was a mistake meeting you, you bring chaos to their lives and they bring it to yours too. It will be better to no longer be in their lives. They won’t have to babysit and worry about you anymore.

Cut your tangled strings with them and leave their lives. Make it stop hurting for yourself and for them. Besides that, whatever words that may fall past their lips will be lies because you can’t trust them. You don’t know if they were telling the truth when they said that they loved you; and even if they were, you don’t deserve it. It’s better to break things off now than to let them re-admit it while sober or try to shove it into your eardrums to make things worse between you. So, you let your silence give Jake an answer. You don’t know what his expression looks like because your gaze never strays from your thumb that you’re picking apart until it bleeds. 

“Okay,” He says. “I’ll see you around, kid.” He left just like that, there was no screaming, no yelling, no pointing fingers at how you murdered dozens of people. Nothing. Just the soft sound of his shoes on the wooden floor and the click of the door being shut. Jake Lockley, the man who entered your life by breaking your door handle and holding a knife to your throat, left it quietly and without a fight. Layla locks the door behind him, you hear the chain lock shut and the lock on the knob click in the silence of the apartment. There is no hum of Gus fish tank, or the sound of the neighbors next door stomping around in their flat. The traffic below was quiet since this place doesn’t have a busy road unlike the apartment complex you rent. 

The busyness of the place you lived in for the past two years is gone and this place is quiet, almost peaceful; and you should have been relaxed in it, but all you felt was anything but that. She crouches down in front of you before resting her knees on the fluffy gray throw rug. She rests her hands on her pajama pants covered thighs, her fingers splaying out on the surface; and once again, you’re reminded about how you ruined her break from the stress of being around you.

‘“How are you feeling?” She asks. You watch the crimson color rise from the small wound you caused on your thumb until it forms a small bubble. She’s just asking to be polite, to have some form of small talk before the inevitable flashing blue colors of the police cars below are reflected in the window. You think there should be more blood coming from the wound after all the problems you caused and all the lives you took. This little bit isn’t enough, the deity should have left you injured. They should have stayed out of it. They should have let you fend for yourself. You need to tell them to stay the fuck away from you even if you are on your death bed and dying. You don’t want anything to do with them.

“Did Taweret heal me?” You ask instead. Your voice sounds raspy like you haven’t spoken in days when in reality it was only an hour. 

“What?”

“Last night when I killed him, did she heal me?”

“I haven’t heard her say anything to me about it.” She says. That wasn’t enough for you, you needed to know.

“Ask her.” 

“I’m not going to ask her.” 

“Layla, I need to know.” You say. “Please ask her.” You don’t know if it was the begging in your voice or the crack that followed, but she does call for her goddess. It took a moment, but the presence that entered the apartment is gentle and warm, there is no pity of anxiety in your stomach or any knot tightening for you to be aware of her. This felt different to last night, Taweret is more soft whereas the other deity was a little more rigid. Kind of like a smooth paper with only a bit of wrinkles. Taweret brings a comforting feeling like a fresh blanket from the dryer or a warm pair of socks on a cold day. This presence was not threatening or had any underlying threats, it felt like she doesn’t want anything from you unlike Horus or the unknown god. Before Layla even asks, you just know that it wasn’t Taweret who healed you early this morning. 

“You heard?” She asks, the breeze that blows through the apartment makes the papers on the table drift to the floor and the curtains tied back move slightly. “She says that it wasn’t her.” 

“Then who was it?” You ask. “Does she know?” You both wait with baited breath. You don’t know what you’re going to do if she says yes and tells you who it is. What are you going to do? Go to their temple in Egypt and tell them to fuck off? Another warm breeze passes, this one feels like it goes right over your head and skims the top of it.

“She doesn’t.” She pauses and listens to whatever it is she’s saying. “She says that she keeps to herself, a lot of the gods and goddesses don’t talk to her since she’s been in the Duat for thousands of years.” Peachy. Of course the one shot that you have to figure out who this fucker is, doesn’t even know. 

“Taweret?” You say. Layla spares a glance at you before looking back towards the window. Your gaze follows her and you try to search for the goddess. A warm breeze brushes past your cheek as if she was replying, telling you to go on. “Don’t heal me when I’m injured.”

“Don’t listen to them.” Layla says, as she whips her head to look at you. Her brown eyes glare at you, silently telling you to shut up because you don’t have a clue for what you’re talking about. But, you do, you don’t want to be healed when you get hurt. You don’t want to cause any more debt for Layla even if you’re only going to be around awhile longer. Because you will leave her. Maybe she will hate you a little less if you refuse help and stop her from extending her time as an avatar to repay a debt to make you hurt less.

“No.” You state. “I’m serious, just leave me alone.”

“Are you hearing yourself, right now?” She asks. 

“Loud and clear.” 

“That is not your decision to make.” 

“It is not your decision to heal me.” You retort. “I don’t want to be healed.” She stares at you. You can tell that she is trying to figure something out, maybe trying to find the answers of the universe or trying to discover where everything went wrong. Maybe she’s trying to find the broken pieces of you and put you back together again like that old nursery rhyme. Humpty Dumpty breaks after a great fall and everyone tries to put them together again and they can’t. Nobody can put you together again, you are broken; and perhaps you were cracking long before they even noticed that you are damaged and now you are shattered. What do you do with broken things that can no longer be fixed? You throw them away.

She only looks away from you shortly to tell Taweret goodbye before she looks back at you. The warm presence has faded and it was just you and Layla. 

“Do you want to die?” She asks. It wasn’t a statement like Jake had said earlier, but a question and despite knowing that your neighbor had to talk to her out in the hallway; and told her what he knows, it still surprises you. The question should have been expected because you figured a conversation about your thoughts and feelings was coming up, but the confirmation that she needed to proceed was what surprised you.. 

“Thought Jake would have already told you I am deadass about that.”

“Don’t joke about wanting to die, it’s not funny.” She states and gives you a stern look before she slowly exhales. Her shoulders drop and her gaze softens. When you both lived together in Stevens place while Jake was gone on missions, sometimes you would stare at Layla in moments when she was too occupied with something. During those moments, she looked younger, her wrinkles would be relaxed and her shield down as she focused on whatever task at hand. Her brown eyes were content with whatever peace she was breathing through. But now, she looks older. Too old for her age, stress and grief and anger has worn her down and sculpted her into the person you are looking at now. 

“You are seventeen years old, you are still a child and it is up to me and everyone else in your life to make sure that you are okay.” She begins. “How are you feeling right now?” You think about telling her that you feel fine and that there's nothing to worry about because everyone wants to die at least once in their life whether it's because of embarrassment or something else. But you don’t tell her that. You also don’t tell her that you’re doing great and that you’re on top of the world, and nothing could take you off of it just to see if she will believe you. Not because of how convincing you are but because she wants it to be true so she won’t have to have this conversation with you.

What you do tell her is the truth, “Like shit.”

“Okay, well, that’s a start.” She says and pauses. You know that she is thinking of what to say and maybe she’s getting ready to tell you that the police are already on their way to take you into custody. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” She asks as you gently pinch the side of your thumb until the bubble bursts and trails down your skin. You watch the blood pool at the underside of your thumb before it drops onto your sweatpants. You stare at it for a moment, the red staining the fabric as she waits for your answer. You know that you should talk about it, confide in someone about how you let your phone screen dim and snooze when you decided not to call your neighbors. You should confide in someone about how you shoved a bleach pen into a intruder's eye and you could have walked out of your apartment without stabbing him in the neck eight times- possibly nine- but didn’t. 

You should tell someone about how you killed all those people in the mall because you were too jealous and busy hanging out with a previous friend. You should tell someone about the words your neighbors told you when they were drunk and how it affected you, but you won’t. 

“Table thief?” She says quietly, the nickname steals your breath and you feel like you were sealed in a tomb. “What happened? Talk to me, baby.” She places her hand on top of your bleeding one and smears the trail and she doesn’t seem to notice. You can’t help but feel like that marked her for death if she wasn’t already. She is too kind and too caring for you and that’s what is going to get her killed if you can’t break things off with her. Maybe she is acting this way just so you feel like you can trust her. 

“You have people rooting for you,” She promises. “We all want to see you get better.” Your eyes stare at the back of her hand as she rubs her thumb gently against yours. You know that she means to be comforting but you feel like you’re poisoning her by being around her, suffocating her and everyone else in your life. It was only a matter of time before they had enough of you.

“What happened?” She asks, her voice too gentle. Too soft. Too much. It was too much for you, everything was and she will never understand and you can’t tell her because you can’t trust her. You cannot trust- a breath shudders out of you and you didn’t know you were crying until you heard a sob leave your mouth. It was too loud to your own ears and it made your head hurt, but another sob leaves you in a gasp and the woman in front of you reaches up with both hands and grasps your own, knitting her fingers between yours. Too familiar, too much.

“I can’t-” Your voice breaks off and you feel snot trailing down your upper lip. “I can’t trust you.” One of her hands lets go of yours for a moment, and you think she was pulling away, finally accepting that you really are broken and she was going to tell you how this was all a ploy to keep you in one spot until the authorities arrive. But instead, she cups your cheek and tilts your head up a bit so you are staring at her instead of the crimson red spot on the pants you are borrowing. If you didn’t know any better you would say that she looks sad. Her brown eyes are light with small golden flecks in them and her lips are tilted down a bit.

You expect her to get angry at you for your honesty, Marc would, but she doesn’t. She holds your face in her hand for a minute and she looks at you. Looks, not stares, it finally feels like she was noticing the pieces that you are and that makes your throat let out a small choked sound. 

“What makes you think that you can’t trust me?” She asks softly. You sniffle, she doesn’t sound upset or blaming you for everything that went wrong this weekend. She wasn’t telling you that you’re a murderer or that you could have saved the children in the mall. She was asking about what went wrong between you and her, and it seems like she wants to fix it and you don’t think that you can.

“I’ve been telling the truth since day one.” You whisper, your voice loud enough for her to hear but soft enough that it doesn’t cause the pounding in your skull to increase. “You lied to me about being an avatar. You said that you weren’t one anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” She says genuinely. The sound of how honest she is hurts you even more, why couldn’t she be this truthful with you in the first place?

“And you didn’t tell me that you went out on these missions. You told me you were in Switzerland for a job, not being Tawerets avatar.” 

“It was a job,” She says. “The mission was a job.”

“The mission was not worth this.” You tell her and you don’t know how to express to her that the mission was not worth her life or what you had with her. It wasn’t worth your friendship, it wasn’t worth the trust you once had in her. She purses her lips, looking at you for something that you don’t quite know of. 

“I’m sorry,” She repeats genuinely and it damn near ruins you even more. It was not fair how honest she sounds when you feel like you can’t trust her. She looks away, her eyes resting on something in the distance. Her hand still cups your cheek and her other hand is holding your own. You wait for her to pull away, and maybe walk out, go to a bar and drink until she forgets; but she doesn’t. She holds onto you until she is ready to speak again and you think about pulling away to recline into yourself and away from her, but you don’t.

“Can I tell you something?” She asks. The question nearly startles you and her brown eyes looking into your own makes you want to shrink underneath her gaze. It wasn’t a harsh look or an angry one, but one with something you need to reject for yourself so it won’t hurt too badly when you leave. It was one full of worry and love and you can’t accept it, you cannot allow yourself to have it.

She adds, “You don’t have to believe me or listen to me, but I just feel like I need to get this off of my chest.” You swallow as you feel her breath softly blow out from her lips and brush against Stevens sweater. 

“I was worried that you wouldn’t make it out of the mall yesterday. I was so mad at myself that I asked if you wanted to go with me and I brought you there. I should have taken better care of you. I should have swept you off of your feet and brought you outside where it was safer rather than to let you stay with me because I was too worried that there might be more people who wanted to hurt others out there.” She bites her lip, “I should have done everything in my power to ensure your safety rather than to allow you to stay. When I saw that man on top of you, his hands around your neck, I-” Her voice cracks and she pauses, inhaling slowly and releasing a shuddering breath. “I didn’t- I just couldn’t think. Jake got there before me and I didn’t know if you were breathing and- and I thought I lost you-” She sniffles and openly cries in front of you. 

“I’m so sorry that I didn’t do better.” She says, her lip wobbles and tears drip off of her jawline and onto her pajama pants. “I promise that I will do better.” You feel her thumb rub against your cheekbone before you realize that she let go of your hand and she was pulling you  onto the floor to hug you. Your knees hit the ground with a thump and her arms wrap around you in a hug, she smells like Stevens laundry detergent and that causes you to think that she went out of her way to buy the same exact one that your neighbors get at the store. Somehow, you end up being cradled in her arms rather than hugged, your head against her left shoulder and her left arm supporting your back while her right holds you closer to her. 

You sniffle, trying to suppress the overwhelming urge to cry by telling yourself that you don’t deserve to. You’ve done too much crying for yourself, every time you are around Layla or your neighbors you seem to become emotional and let loose on the waterworks. All those people you killed want to cry too and they can’t, instead their families are crying for them. You should be ashamed of yourself. 

“I want to help you get better and be there for you.” She admits quietly, bending down and placing a kiss to your forehead. “I want to see you flourish and bloom and grow.” The lump in your throat is hard to swallow around, you feel terrible. You really want to believe her. You really want to try again with her, but you’re so worried about what the future has in store for you. What if she leaves you? What if the relationship you have developed with her is nothing but ash? What if she’s lying about this too? What if you lose her too? The last question leaves your mouth in a tumbled haze of a mixture of sobs and mumbles. You see her face through blurry eyes filled with tears and she ever gently holds you closer to her. 

“What was that?” She asks and proceeds to tell you that she didn’t quite catch what you said. 

“I’m going to lose you too.” You say, the words were muffled in her shirt and you look up at her with wide eyes. She softly frowns at your statement.

“You’re not going to lose me, baby.” She tells you. “I promise I will be right next to you through everything.” You sniffle, wetting her shirt with snot and tears and she doesn’t seem to mind one bit. You swallow the words that she doesn’t know how long everything will last. That she can’t promise to be next to you if she gets torn away from you by some outside force. That she can’t promise to be with you if you’re fated to go down on a sinking ship because she will drown with you. You’ve been this person for so long that change doesn’t seem possible. You’ve been stuck in this sadness and loneliness that it feels like it is forever rooted to you and this is the person you will be until you die and perhaps even after that. 

What if you can’t change? What if you can’t get better? What if you try and fail over and over again and you are still the same person when you started? The questions feel overwhelming and suffocating that you didn’t know it was climbing out of your throat until your voice is loud to your own ears and you hear the question as bright as day. 

“But what if I can’t?” You cry out. ���What if this is the person I am for the rest of my life?” She looks down at you with too soft eyes and she too gently caresses your face with her right  hand. 

“Change is scary,” She admits quietly. “But I know that you can do it. You just need to want to do it in order for it to work.” You’ve been sad for so long that it’s become more of a safety blanket than an emotion. It was something constant that you found comfort in and now she was asking for you to unravel yourself from it. You sniffle again and look at the popcorn ceiling behind her head. You don’t deserve to feel comforted but you also don’t deserve to get better when the people that you killed don’t have that opportunity. The pad of her thumb wipes away a trail of tears running down the side of your face and into your ear. 

“How about this?” She says gently, “We’ll look for therapists that will be good for you.” It kind of surprises you to hear how committed she is to this. You really don’t deserve her.

“We?” You ask quietly.

“You’re not alone in this and I’m not leaving you alone.” She tells you and your heart hurts along with your head. It wasn’t fair for how she’s willing to stick with you on a sinking ship and try to bring you to safety when you’re literally stuck to the floorboards of it. You had this conversation with her just yesterday on the phone, she asked you if you thought about going to therapy and you told her that it wasn’t for you at the moment. Now, it seems like she’s not giving you a choice and you don’t feel up to arguing with her on this.

“What about the doctors looking at my papers too closely?” You ask. What if they notice the fraud? What if your name is somehow familiar to them and they trace it back to New York and they see that you are presumed dead? What if they try to look for medical records for you and they find out that you did some illegal shit?

“I have ties.” She says. “I got some contacts from people who know people and they owe me a few favors.” She pauses and shifts her hold on you a bit, you wonder if her arm or legs were going numb from your body cutting off her blood circulation. “It’s going to be awhile for that, so until then, I think you should go to a blipped support group.” Your eyes trail back to her face and you blink at her. But they didn’t do what you did, they didn’t fraud papers and move a thousand miles to another continent, and you tell her that. She gently rolls her eyes, not in exasperation but rather how different you think you are to anybody else.

“They have similar experiences to you.” She says. “They lost five years of their life too and they are seeking help for it even two years later. It’s never too late to look for help.” You nod slowly. “I think I saw some flyers for a meeting on Tuesday in a café. I’ll look up local meetings in a bit, alright?” You hum, sleep was pulling at your eyes. 

“I have work tomorrow.” You mumble. Tomorrow is Monday and you’re going to have to go back to work like you just had a normal weekend. Lauren will definitely be chatting about what happened at the mall and asking if you heard anything new about it; and you’re going to have to tell her you don’t know anything. Acting is exhausting.

“Not anymore you don’t.” She says, “You’re taking the week off and calling in sick.” You open your mouth to protest because how else will you distract yourself from the mourning of your relationship with your neighbors and the actions of this weekend; but you shut it because what was the point in arguing with someone who you know will win? You try to tell yourself that this is all a ruse just so it won’t hurt as much when she inevitably leaves just like your neighbors.

“Did you eat today?” She rubs your back gently and you shake your head. She’s being too nice to you, she’s going to dump you the moment you fall asleep, you tell yourself. “Are you hungry?” Not really, you shake your head. Your stomach has not growled or groaned to signal you of how hungry you are. Even if you were starving, you don’t think you could hold down anything because of the guilt consuming you. 

She frowns, "When was the last time you ate?” Yesterday, before the mall. You ate Stevens vegan pancakes which will probably be the last thing you will ever have that was made by him. Just yesterday, they were fussing over you to wear thermal socks and the hole in your shoe and to wear a thick jacket to keep warm from the cold air, and now they left you in the care of someone who will eventually leave you too.

“Baby?” She asks, “When was it?” And quietly, you tell her and she releases a sigh. “You’re going to eat something before you go to bed.” She says and you think about protesting, telling her no and that you’ll eat when you wake but you don’t instead, you admit the thing that has been on your mind in the last twenty-four hours.

“I don’t deserve to.” You say, nearly letting the statement be muffled by her shirt, but deciding at the last moment that you’re only going to say it once so you won’t have to repeat it. She looks at you incredulously.

“Who told you that?” She asks. “Who told you that you don’t deserve to eat?” Nobody really, but yourself.

“I killed people.” You tell her, your voice cracking halfway through the sentence.

“You didn’t kill anybody, baby.” She breathes out. That was a lie, you killed those teenagers and the parents of that baby in the mall, you killed everyone who didn’t make it out. You killed the man in your flat, you stabbed him to death.

“I killed the man in my apartment.”

“You did it out of self-defense.”  She tells you, “He was going to kill you if you didn’t kill him first.” You wonder if Jake told her that or she was trying to convince herself that you had no choice.

“I could have walked away.” You admit. “I incapacitated him and I could have left and called you or Marc and I didn’t.” You didn’t because you felt like you couldn’t. You didn’t because you were worried that he would go back to the cult and send others after you or your neighbors or Layla and hurt them. You add quietly after a gap of silence that felt like it stretched on forever, “I didn’t want him to take you guys away from me too.” She looks down at you with sad eyes that you feel like you don’t deserve. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” She tells you and you tuck your face into her shirt to hide away from her. The scent of her clothing smelled exactly like your neighbors who left you and it makes your heart ache for them.

—

Taglist:

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[atlasscrumpit]

Moon Knight x Teen Reader

On your 16th birthday your father discovered something.

Your scales weren't balanced.

If you were anyone else you would've been killed, but he couldn't let you go.

So, he tried everything he could to balance your scales.

That meant he locked you away ever since he found out.

But, even after three years of being locked away it still didn't balance your scales.

So, he did something unthinkable that was sure to change something.

He came into your room one day and you leapt up and hugged him tightly.

"Hello, sweetheart. I missed you." He said, finally returning after a long mission.

"I missed you too! Did you bring anything back for me?" You asked excitedly as he held your face in his hand.

"In a way... You know I love you very much, and I would do anything to keep you safe." He said as you smiled and nodded.

"Of course, Father." You replied, he leant in and kissed your forehead.

"I hope you can understand all if this one day." He whispered as two men ran into your room and grabbed you.

"Father!? What's happening!?" You screamed in fear as they dragged you down the hallway, Arthur closely behind.

"Be gentle with her." He said to the men as they dragged you down into the basement.

"Father! Please, I'm scared!" You screamed as you cried and tried to break free.

They slammed you onto a table and strapped you down as you sobbed.

"Father!" You screamed as Arthur came over and ran his hand through your hair.

"Shh, little one. It's going to be okay. You just need to trust me, okay?" He said as you continued to cry but nodded a little.

"It will hurt... But, only for a little while." He whispered as you kept your eyes on your father.

Suddenly you felt a sharp pain in your arm.

You looked over to see someone injecting a needle into you.

Arthur continued to comfort you as you slowly fell unconscious.

"This will work..."

--

You had no idea how much time had passed, you could tell the feeling of your own bed.

You tried to open your eyes but you couldn't, you reached up to feel bandages around your eyes.

"Father!" You screamed out as loud as you could.

You heard your door open before feeling your father's hands grab yours.

"It's okay, it's alright, sweetheart. I'm right here." He said as you began to cry.

"What's happening?" You asked through your sobs.

"It worked, my darling. Your scales finally balanced." He whispered, squeezing your hand lightly.

"But... What did you do?" You whispered as Arthur looked at you and smiled sadly.

"I took your eye sight... I know this seems so cruel, my daughter. But, it was the only way to save you." He said as you cried even more, Arthur moved onto your bed and let you cuddle into him as you cried.

"I know, my child. But, I'm here to help every step of the way." He whispered while holding you.

Eventually you fell asleep in your father's arms, being so tired from crying and pain.

--

"Remind me why we're breaking and entering a bloody cult?" Steven asked in Marc's head as he rolled his eyes.

"Arthur has a daughter, and yes it's not exactly being a hero but we're going to kidnap her in order for him to stop Ammit. He'll have to choose between them." He whispered sneaking into your bedroom.

He looked down at you and noticed the bandages around your eyes.

"Why has she got bandages on?" Steven asked as Marc snapped himself out of his thoughts and slowly picked you up.

"It doesn't matter." Marc muttered, with the help of Khonshu they made sure you wouldn't wake on the way back.

When you finally awoke again, you could tell you weren't in your own bed anymore.

"Father? Father!" You shouted out in fear, you heard no response.

"Father please!" You cried out before you felt someone take your hand.

You gasped, knowing it wasn't your father's hand.

"W-Who are you?" You whispered in fear, though the hand didn't feel threatening.

"I'm Steven. I know you're afraid but I promise you will not be hurt. Can you tell me your name?" He asked in a soft voice.

"It's Y/N." You whispered as Steven nodded.

"That's a very pretty name, Y/N. I know this seems very scary, but your father is about to do some very terrible things... If he succeeds a lot of people will die." He said as you nodded your head a little.

"I know... I was going to die too, but he saved me." You whispered as he looked at you in confusion.

"What do you mean, Y/N?" He asked, still holding onto your hand so you knew he was there.

"My scales were unbalanced, so my father did everything he could to save me." You replied, Steven looked at you and thought for a moment before Marc took over.

"What do you mean saved you?" He said, his accent changing.

"Is this...still Steven?" You muttered, he still held your hand just not as softly.

"No, my name is Marc. Steven and I share a body. Now, what do you mean he saved you?" He asked, his grip becoming a little tighter.

"He tried everything to ensure I wouldn't become evil, so he locked me away. But, it didn't work so he had to try something else. So... He took my eyesight and it worked." You replied as Marc stared at you in shock.

"How did he do that?" He asked as you shrugged a little.

"Y/N, can I take off your bandages and take a look?" He asked, you nodded a little as you felt his hand move from yours and to the bandages around your head.

He slowly began taking them off as you sat still for him, when he finally removed it all he saw your injured eyes.

"Acid..." He whispered, he knew Arthur was evil but...this was a new level.

"It still hurts." You whispered, Marc looking at you sadly.

"It must do... You're in a bad way. I'm going to treat the skin around it and rebandage it." He said, you felt his presence disappear.

"Why did you take me?" You asked quietly, not exactly sure which direction Marc had gone.

"We're going to use you as a bargaining tool. You're father can have you back safely once he stops trying to free Ammit." Marc said as you sat there in stunned silence.

"You're going to hurt me?" You asked in fear before Marc sat down beside you again.

"No, it's just a way to stop him from killing people. We won't hurt you, Y/N." He said as he began applying ointment around your eyes.

"My father is trying to make the world a better place... Why is that bad?" You asked, hearing Marc sigh.

"Y/N, his idea of a perfect world isn't the same as other peoples ideas. He wants to remove all bad from the world, every little piece even if it's not even that bad. I would be gone and so would a lot of other people. We're human, Y/N. We're meant to do bad things from time to time. A world where everything is perfect isn't a good world. Y/N, your father isn't a good man. He burnt away your eyes with acid and you still believe he's good?" He asked before he began applying the bandages.

"I've never known anything else." You muttered, Marc did feel sorry for you.

You'd practically been brainwashed by your own father.

"How long did he lock you away for?" Marc asked, finished off the bandages.

"Just a little over three years." You muttered, Marc went silent from shock, not knowing how to respond.

"You never hated him for doing that to you?" He asked as you shook your head.

"No, because I knew he was trying to protect me." You replied.

"He was protecting you from him, you wouldn't be in any danger if you weren't anywhere near him. He took your eyesight to 'save' you but the only reason you needed saving was because of him." He explained as you sat in silence for a moment.

"But... He loves me." You muttered, Marc could see how niave you were.

"I think he does care about you, Y/N. But, what he has done is wrong. He is abusing you." Marc replied, you felt like crying again.

"I want to go back..." You whispered, Marc taking your hands again.

"I know, Y/N. But, for now, this is just something we have to do. Tomorrow we will bargain with him and if he chooses you over Ammit you'll go home." He explained as you nodded.

"What if he doesn't choose me?" You whispered, squeezing Marc's hands.

"Then, we will help you, Y/N." Marc said making you smile a little.

"I don't like what he does to me." You whispered as Marc run his thumb over your hand.

"You've had to put up with a lot, haven't you?" He asked as you nodded.

"I'm scared, Marc." You whispered, as Marc slowly leant forward and hugged you.

"I know you're afraid, but you have someone on your side, okay?" He said, gently rubbing your back.

--

Marc and Steven had already gotten close with you and even more so you were finally been shown kindness.

The next day finally came and you stood next to Marc while he gripped your arm roughly in front of your father.

You knew it was an act and he wouldn't hurt you.

"Let her go, she has nothing to do with this." Arthur demanded, just hearing his voice you wanted to run to him.

"You have a choice, Arthur. You stop all of this and you get your daughter back safely, or you continue and I slit her throat." Marc said grabbing your hair and forcing you to bare your neck.

"F-Father." You whispered as Arthur looked at you.

"My child... I love you more than anything in this world. And I have to do this for you. My daughter will not stop my cause, Marc Spector." Arthur said before walking away, Marc looked on in shock.

Any hope he had left for Arthur was most certainly gone.

Marc let you go as you walked forward.

"Father?" You muttered before Marc took your hand.

"Y/N, it's okay. He's gone." Marc said as you began to cry.

"No... No, why did he go?" You whispered before Marc slowly pulled you into a hug.

"Shh, it's okay. We're going to take care of you." Marc whispered, letting you cry on his shoulder.

"Why did he leave?" You whispered through your tears.

"You did nothing wrong, Y/N. He just...cared about his cause more than his own daughter." Marc muttered, even he was in shock at how low Arthur had stooped.

For a while Marc just held you while you cried in the street.

Eventually Marc took you home.

"Where do I go now?" You whispered as you sat down.

"You can stay here with us for a while... Maybe you could help us out and even more so we'll help you out." Marc said as you smiled a little and nodded.

Marc knew this was be a lot to take on but...he couldn't stand the idea of just letting you go after all of this.

"Go get some rest, kid. I'll have something for you to eat when you wake up." Marc said, helping you over to the bed.

You laid down and held onto Marc's hand.

"Thank you..."

[soft-persephone]

We’re not a Galaxy but a Supernova

Marc Spector x Female!Reader

A Searching for Stardust One Shot

WC: .7k // Teen // warning: mention of self hate, violent behavior // yearning, slight angst // CH.4 //

Nothing without you - Tanrielle

I was listening to this song and these words just came to me. First time that’s ever happened to me

Unknown : if you miss me, look at the moon.

Marc put his phone away before he could regret sending it.

He let his mask fall over his face before descending back into the night. Before succumbing to the prison that held his sanity hand in hand with his freedom. His destruction. His savoir.

You were done practicing for the show and now it was time for you and your troop of dancers to take the stage.

You practiced all day and performed all night.

He was serving Khonshu more nights than most. Long insufferable nights they were booming, but he couldn’t say some part of him wanted it. He hadn’t felt so sane in such a long time.

As much as he hated being away from you, he needed this time to be apart from you. It’s what he told himself.

This time away could give him the answers he needed.

That maybe these feelings could mean something, and he could keep himself and his life from bleeding into yours and hurting you.

So right now Marc would settle.

He’d settle for the nights he’s fronting in the body and not serving Khonshu to watch videos of your performances. To watch an interview every now and then. He couldn’t bring himself to watch them all. It made you too real. It exposed some of the things left secret and unspoken between you two.

He hoped one night to see you perform in person.

That he could somehow convince Jake and Steven. Make a night out of it without causing their suspicions.

It was getting hard to explain why he was all of a sudden interested in Ballet and performing arts.

You spun and you glided.

You leaped and extended your body in ways he didn’t know was humanly possible, and he’s seen some things.

Watching you on stage filled him with such a rush of emotion as reading French poems did for Steven as certain Spanish ballads made Jake feel when he drove throughout the night sometime.

Watching you dance filled him with.. a love.

A love for life he hadn’t known he still had. For every person walking the street, for every moon that glittered in the night sky and every sun that graced the sky each day. For each star that was born and each one that died. Displaying the same dance that bewitched you both and captivated you together every other night. Those rare and precious nights that were beginning to stretch far in between space and time as those stars above.

It made him wish to be with you, properly.

He wanted to explode into non existence each night with you.

-

“Take five!”

Your Apple Watch buzzed with an unfamiliar number sending you a message.

It was about time for a break anyway.

Why you used it as an opportunity to see a random message, you did not know.

Unknown : if you miss me, look at the moon.

Your heart swelled.

It was him. It had to be.

Tears trickled into the corners of your eyes, and you had to close them a moment less you cry.

You had danced every night thinking of him.

Searching the crowd, wondering if you’ll see his face among the sea of thousands.

If he liked the Ballet or found it boring all together you did not know, but you ached to see him.

Your body was always moving. Prancing about all day, doing the same dance each night. Pushing yourself past your limits each and everyday to earn your spot as the head dancer. The one that called the shots each practice.

It was a highly competitive position, and in your nights when you weren’t wallowing in your grief, you’d been spending them with your illustrious lover. . . the stranger.

A stranger who distracted you, but you would not have had it any other way.

It was the first face since your husband's passing, that held such a place in your heart.

The first face that didn’t feel like a betrayal.

Even if he was a stranger, you hoped he didn’t leave your life anytime soon.

So you danced for him.

Wherever he may be, you danced each night for him.

You used to dance for a stranger, but now you could proudly dance for the moon.

Your moon.

[1donoow]

MCU REC

PT.5

......

♡ - smut

Most of them are fluff

......

<a/n>i somewhat explain why there's alot in my pin post

stephen strange

Loki laufeyson

wade wilson

peter parker

moon knight

stephen strange

@that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main - found family

- a sick day

@frostandflamesfanfic - july 19th

- stephen's ruff day

@queenofspades6 - new haircut

———————————————————————

loki laufeyson

@ashdreams2023 - Finding a baby in the palace with Loki

- touch starved loki

- Loki variants x fem cute soft reader

- big round eyes

- Loki with a y/n who has wings

- loki falling for the mom of the group

- Loki x deaf reader

@kota-bee - early mornings

- migraines

@asgardwinter - not the alcohol

@spilledkauffie - newsflash ch.1

@rachaelswrites - meeting jane (daughter!reader)

@lokislittleprincess - Jotunheim(daughter! daughter)

@sapphireplums - being the daughter of loki

@dyns33 - the kid

- nexus

@jhennykviana - You, seven Lokis and a Thor.

- what did you do?

@frost-queen - glorious purpose

@goddessofmischief - shoelaces

@kortsitron - being thor,loki and hela's sibling

@specialagentlokitty - out duty (sister!reader)

———————————————————————

wade wilson

@your-next-daydream - wade w/ a equally chaotic reader hc

@paranormal-pajama-phantom - ___

- reaction to seeing wade's face

@lunagojo - romantic headcannon

———————————————————————

Peter parker

@deathlycupidd - princess parker

@fbfh - hc (stark!reader)

@sourcherryandsprinkles - ___

@beautifulbuckys - perfume allergy

———————————————————————

Moon knight

@iamcalmdammit - of dreams and nightmares

- like father, like daughter

@ashdreams2023 - steven grant with (winged!reader)

@imaginingmarvelandeverything - ___ (scarletwitch!reader)

@realworldsucksendhelp - i will always love you

@ijustwant2write - the necklace

@yoursecondfirstlove - little muffin pt.1

@steven-grants-anxiety - goodbye kisses

@owlls-n-phrxgs - anpu

@80pairsofcrocs - baby scarab 1

@theseawakes - ___(teen!reader)

@a-edgar-allan-hoe - gods and monsters (goddess!reader)

@mement0m0rri - i want you to feel safe

@girlwithwolftatoo - moon boys with a harley quinn type s/o

- the moon boys getting a silent treatment

@captain039 - the gods with us

@fxckingghxst - Steven Grant has a crush on you

@just-a-bit-of-a-nerd - them reacting to reader being a US agent

@dearlawdimasimp - mission failed successfully

@hellurbba - coffee and kisses

@ofstarsandvibranium - spector-grant family

@lockleysfav - safer in my arms

@dragon-kazansky - plenty of cuddles for everyone

- you looking out for steven

- forehead kisses

@cosplayproblemsposts - behind the charm

@mkfluffluv - comfort

- Moon Knight Boys Helping With Writer’s Block

- keep the secret?

- tastes like apple juice and peach

- he doesn't mind

@odyssey0fthesolum - How the moon boys and Khonshu would react to you hosting Venom

@bibli0thecary - perfect

@slightlypossessed - sleepy thief

@wysteria-clad - cucumber face mask and fist of vengeance

- calling the moon boys by their names prank

- not saying i love you back

- the unicorn sticker

- moon boys' reaction to seeing you casually naked for the first time

- our little thing

- when they decided you are 'The One'

- to build a home

[huitzilinthebudgie3]

Un Dia Mal :

Chapter 2: The hole in space

Summary : Part 2

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Recap :

“It’s not set in stone , little worm. You’d be surprised…what one word can do” she sniffled at that as tears welled up in her eyes “Why can’t i do shit right” she huffed wiping her eyes angrily “Sometimes i wonder if life would be easier for them without me…” she murmured as she shuffled to lean against the old birds legs as he patted her head in a affectionate pet kind of way “I assure you it wouldn’t” she snorted “How do you know..oh great spirit guide” she huffed “I just get in the way….i bet there wasn’t even a party with me. They were probably like ‘oh shit…one escaped the condom’ “ she huffed as the bird made a distressed noise “You are -something else , little bug” she shrugged “Normals boring…tried it when i was born…didn’t like it……” she chuckled as the bird smiled “Now wake up” she jolted up in her bed half asleep as she glanced around in pain as she stared at the wound on her palm from the dogs necklace….before screaming at the giant glowing canary eyes.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Part 2 of Un Dia Mal…

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Recap : 

“It’s not set in stone , little worm. You’d be surprised…what one word can do” she sniffled at that as tears welled up in her eyes “Why can’t i do shit right” she huffed wiping her eyes angrily “Sometimes i wonder if life would be easier for them without me…” she murmured as she shuffled to lean against the old birds legs as he patted her head in a affectionate pet kind of way “I assure you it wouldn’t” she snorted “How do you know..oh great spirit guide” she huffed “I just get in the way….i bet there wasn’t even a party with me. They were probably like ‘oh shit…one escaped the condom’ “ she huffed as the bird made a distressed noise “You are -something else , little bug” she shrugged “Normals boring…tried it when i was born…didn’t like it……” she chuckled as the bird smiled “Now wake up” she jolted up in her bed half asleep as she glanced around in pain as she stared at the wound on her palm from the dogs necklace….before screaming at the giant glowing canary eyes. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n panted as their was a sudden hand covering her mouth as her parents practically bushed down the door. 

The glowing yellow canary eyes glowed softly as the being screamed in response "Shhh…they can't see me…we'll talk when they're gone" the dog looking being said before disappearing.

'Don't tell them you can see me…or else' the being smirked as its large sharp ears stood tall atop it's canine head , as she gulped. She jumped as her Dad burst into the room with a bat with a sock on the end as her mother ran in with whatever had been close in range ..which happened to be a pan as they looked around wildly “What happened N/n (Nickname/Little bug) ?” Y/n panted wildly “Oh..uhhh uh…fell asleep” she smiled sheepishly. As her parents hummed a bit awkwardly “Little bug…” Layla started before sitting on the edge of her bed “Are you okay ?” she asked softly as…Y/n thought briefly of her crazy day as the amulet burned her and tightened around her arm as she suddenly noticed it was digging into her palm as she winced .

Her mother…having been in the middle of a probably good inspirational speech quirked a brow “You okay , little bug ?” she winced “Oh yeah” she said her hand going under the blanket “You hand “ her mom stated without any room for argument as her Dad winced “Damn…and i thought my room was messy …and i was a boy” Layla snorted at Marcs words “She is your daughter , love” she huffed as her father hummed “I thought we concluded she was , Stevens” he smiled as Y/n huffed in annoyance “My rooms clean ! No dirty plates just-” Layla chuckled “Dirty clothes everywhere ... .I swear sometimes…you are the perfect carbon copy of your father…” she smiled, caressing her face affectionately “Hand” Y/n quirked a brow as she squirmed away, keeping her arm away …but…sadly…

Her Mom was not one for playing as she targeted Y/n’s known weakness….her 

sides. As she giggled her mother tickling her weak spots as she squealed trying to twist away as her mother frowned "How'd you cut yourself this deep ? And how are you so…" Layla frowned, sighing in frustration "C'mon…Marc get the first aid kit and meet us in the bathroom" she called as Y/n was practically dragged to the bathroom.

Y/n yawned sleepily as her mother inspected it "This is deep…how'd you do it ?" She shrugged "i had a shitty day..i tried telling you guys " she sighed before jumping briefly as bright canary eyes met her gaze in the mirror 'They cannot hear or see me…you see we share a bond…i'm indebted to you young one…and you've passed on of my tests for an avatar…a guardian !' the disembodied voice rumbled as she glanced at her Mom..who was in the middle of saying something that warranted a kiss on her cheek "You know baby…this baby…it…" she sighed "We love you very much…and your Dad realized how it might look…and it's not that" she reassured "It's not a replacement or ….." she zoned out again as the dog head thing flicked a ear 'Seems like they have conflicting emotions concerning you ..' the creature said it's fangs peeking out of it's grinning face.

Y/n was drawn out of her non-focus as her Dad hugged her….something that drew conflicting emotions….as it was meant to comfort but…it wasn't common for either of them. 

"Wait…so you guys had a party…and-" she gulped "Because you guys don't want me to feel like i'm being replaced and…or like this is " she sighed "This feels an awful lot like that it is what is happening and your trying to buy my silence" she glared crossing her arms as both of her parents stayed silent before her father spoke up "Baby , that's not-" she glared "I'm ..i." she walked away "I have one of miguel's textbooks…i must've grabbed it by accident..i'm gonna go drop it off" she sighed softly.

*20 mins later*

Miguel met her after a text as he was having his own issues.

"Can you fucking believe it ?! He took my mom's pay check and gambled it away!" Miguel huffed as he kicked a can of beer on the roof of their building. He was drinking like usual ...when he got into his step-dads stash as she sighed "I'm sorry , miggy. ……My mom's pregnant" she said flatly "And they threw a party! So i wouldn't get the wrong idea" she frowned deeply "…and they're gonna be around more now." Miguel curled a brow at that "Damn ... .you know…it's not the worst thing…you've got 2 years left…then we can do whatever we want" he chuckled.

"I've got 1 year left and I'm leaving ! I'm getting my own apartment and I'm gonna have a better car!" He smiled "And I'm bringing my mom and my little brother…we'll be happier without that douchebag" he sighed "And if you want…you can come too. You're already one of us , no? No dealing with that possibly annoying ass sibling" he smiled reassuringly .

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n was laying with Miguel on the roof..who had fallen asleep because his Step-Father had kicked him out for fighting about taking and gambling away his moms money. So sometimes…when her parents weren't home , she'd let him stay with her in the lonely and quiet apartment. And one thing that was always guaranteed was that Miguel always fell asleep with her…holding her to his chest. Which when they were younger was harmless…but now…becoming older…and their bodies changing it was different. 

She felt a confusing amount of mixed emotions for her best-friend. Today he'd cried…after venting about everything his step-father had done…how he'd beat him for actually trying to stand up to him. And Y/n felt bad earlier for bringing up her petty reasons for being mad at her parents…at least they didn't do that to her…they were absent at times but never cruel. 

So she'd offered her support and affection by holding him and saying nothing as he let it out. 

He'd fallen asleep like that as she dozed off………

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The Morning 

Y/n woke up to a start as her Dad glared at her "Seriously ? You stayed out all night with a boy?!" She glared at that as he marched her to the stairs "Baby girl ! You know better ! Boys are just in it for one thing and-" she glared "Dad..it's not like that Miguel's my best-friend ! He lives next door too…he had a rough night!" She reasoned walking into their apartment.

Her mother was cooking breakfast as Her father chose not to drop it "I get that …and that's nice…but you have to be careful ! He's older than you and -" she was getting frustrated "Dad! It's not -Miguel..he has problems at home and-" her father wasn't having it "Don't get an attitude!  We were worried sick ! You were gone all night with him ! I was a kid like that and I don't want you getting mixed up in that. I get you wanting to help but…you never know- and we don't need you-...and we're not always home to watch out or …just because his parents don't care" he sighed "Marc-" her mom spoke up in warning as Y/n tensed at that.

"We're gonna have a baby …baby girl. We can't-....... you need to focus on school and-" her mother glared "Marc!!!"

"Wait…you think…" she paused at that…in anger and betrayal "You think i'm-....he has a girlfriend ... .you really" She sighed "Your one to talk ! You both are hardly home ! And you're gonna have a baby…maybe you'll actually love it and stay for it ! You won't leave for months at a time…....don't let me get in your way. I know it was an accident but you don't have to rub it in" she snapped as she stomped away and got ready….

She exited her room to see  her father getting lectured as they stopped talking. "Baby , your Dad has something to say" she said nothing "I'll see ya later mom…dad…maybe you'll be home. If not …i'll see you whenever the baby is born" she huffed grabbing her backpack and leaving for school.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The walk to school hurt…she didn't mean it all but at the same time she did. It was confusing as the voice returned 'That was brutal' the now clearer being walked beside her…it had the smooth head of a dog/jackal and the body of a woman as it flicked its ears 'Parents…am i right?' She chuckled softly as Y/n sighed softly 'not in the mood doggy' she huffed.

The creature paused tilting her head 'Oh ? I'm sure you could use a distraction…no?' The being smiled…it's sharp teeth on display 'Besides i have to explain our bond and terms of agreement' she chimed in a sing-songy voice.

As Y/n kept walking 'Sorry…not looking for a job' she huffed .

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The dog was not deterred and kept bugging her 'C'mon kid! Let's talk shop! You work for me and I'll give you whatever your little heart desires ' Y/n quirked a brow 'Uhh no thanks. Sounds way too good to be true..and like low-key slavery….my spirit guide also warned me' the dog being snorted as she pouted 'And you're gonna listen to him?! Y/n rolled her eyes.

'He's my homie ! He used to give me cookies!!!' The dog growled in response 'I can give you cookies ! Just agree to help me!' She snarled 'Nah…sounds like too much work' Y/n giggled.

Eventually the being got annoyed and when she stopped to go potty and ended up staring at a swirling portal before her. She stared at the canine, arms crossed over her chest "Really?" She huffed.It only smiled gesturing for her to enter "Osiris himself has asked for your presence darling" she purred as she shoved her into the swirling mess of light.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

On the other side of the portal Y/n was met by the Floor. As she fell face first into the hard sandy floor of a……….a….. ancient temple as the canine being walked through giggling . And was met imposing forms of human/animal hybrids. 

As they presented themselves as the Ancient  Egyptian Gods …….the ones her father Steven and her mother often told her of.

As the dog being glared silently at the council as the large man with crossed arms and teal skin sat on a throne as he glared down at her …she wasn’t sure what this avatar business as the being reached out and pulled her heart out of her chest as she stared in horror before the world went black around her……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

End Notes : Thank you for reading , let me know if you like it. Like always have a good day/night :) The Whole in space