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alphacomicsvol2 · 8 months

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Spider-Woman #1 Cover Art (Fist of Konshu-Knight's End Variant Cover by Kael Ngu)

#Marvel #Comic #Comics #Spider-Woman #Moon Knight #Covers #Cover Art #Fist of Konshu #Knight's End Variant #Variant Cover #Kael Ngu

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nickfuryagentofsword · 5 months

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Timeless 1 (2023) by Collin Kelly, Jackson Lanzing & Juann Cabal

Cover: Kael Ngu

#Timeless #Power Man #Luke Cage #Moon Knight #Iron Fist #Danny Rand #Konshu #Collin Kelly #Jackson Lanzing #Juann Cabal #Kael Ngu

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inknopewetrust · 2 years

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𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜

summary: Harrow’s efforts are thwarted when an unsuspecting hero takes control.

pairing: Marc Spector x Fem!Reader word count: 4.1k

warnings: angst, violence, spoilers for episode 6.

quick links: masterlist // “part 1” resolutions —can be read as a stand alone but… why not read both :)

He hated when the moon slipped its ugly crescent between the curtains.

It made him feel as though death followed him everywhere; that he was indeed a killer when it was the last thing he ever wanted to think about.

And the sheets felt like they were suffocating him because of it.

Gripping, grabbing, grappling with what they could to choke the life from him and the memories of the evening not some three hours before begging to be heard and voiced—but they fell to deaf ears. How could he just lay there? Still… silent in the darkness of a desolate apartment in Chicago, comforted by the wounds of survival and the promise of another day.

His tired eyes hated that moon.

It’s silver sliver breaking the pane of glass into two—one for each of him that he knew; building up the reflection casting to the floor, to the bed’s edge, and to the white sheets stained with his sweat. Eventually the moon met him. Shining on his bare arms and cascading across this chest as he laid motionless, empty.

Marc Spector was a man of many things, but not known to kindness.

The emptiness inside of him fulfilled by nothing sans a void of darkness that broke open for Konshu, allowing for his deeds to be done from the bloody hands of one who claims to be broken, lost, and hopeless yet was chosen by a God. He’d never truly understand, Marc, how Konshu chose his victims.

And by victims he meant avatar’s, not the people finding judgement at Marc’s fists.

The task bestowed upon him became a mask. An opportunity to hide the man he truly is for one who isn’t scared of himself, of his past, or the memories that plagued him in the deepest hours of the night where the moon crept into his most sacred of spaces.

At some point, Marc’s mind had decided the reminder was enough.

The bed frame creaked—shifting under Marc’s weight and releasing to its supports and reverberating into the wood below. His bare feet wavered the nearly-warped floor, hastily making way to the curtains and feeling the textured fabric between his finger tips as he grasped each edge.

Rough. The texture was rough, like sand. Not kind, or forgiving, or pleasant. The moon stared at him closer through the glass; the curtains open for him to stand in between and holding them tightly, Marc closed his eyes.

‘One night. One night.’ He thought to himself. ‘Just let me have this one night.’ Throwing the curtains closed, the moon disappeared.

The light in the room was gone. He was no longer basking in its white light—but standing in the silent night to peace. He needn’t escape to protection when the world was silent.

“Marc?”

The world was never truly silent, however.

“When did you get in?”

The bed was so far away in that moment. As though a camera was pulling far from its subject, Marc felt the calls going unanswered—but not listening to his mind to speak.

“Marc?”

The voice was tired at first. The kind where a deep sleep is disrupted suddenly and there is nothing but words that come tumbling out for the sake of a better alternative. And then it grew more concerned. He could hear it. Growing in confidence and volume, the second time was the most alert of the calls.

“… Marc?” The third was uncertain. Was it him? Was it your eyes playing tricks on you or did you judge the man terribly upon your first meeting years ago. 20/20 never did anyone good.

It was hindsight, after all.

There was no call of his name the fourth time. Just the distinct sound of a lamp switching on and a golden glow emitting from beside the right side of the bed.

Marc’s feet were frozen to the ground—in some kind of way.

For one night, Konshu was not whispering in his ear. How did he know? The moment the moon went away and his silent pleas had been manifested, a disgruntled voice called out:

‘Fine.’ One night. Not a commitment to be dealt with pain; a sweet symphony of peace had washed over him and Marc Spector—alien to that feeling—was not sure what to do.

“Marc, what’s wrong?”

The ex-mercenary shook his head, unable to form words to describe the feeling. A weight lifted from his shoulder; pulling him to the surface for air while it’s impending return hangs tightly on his leg, but a brief moment of reprieve is enough.

“I just…” Marc trailed off, remaining stuck in a realm of uncertainty. Something was itching, scratching beyond Konshu’s presence and asking to be said.

The quietness took over and his mind repeated one name: Layla; all reiterated with a guilty conscious.

In the still of the night, a golden lamplight illuminating the room, Marc saw your tired face. The last few years had been hectic—his own travels, Konshu, and what set it all off, half of the world gone—you included. That’s where he found Layla and when things returned to a relative normal, he found himself unable to admit the double life he had been living—both physically and in some terms, mentally, but he thought he had everything under control.

Until he had returned from Konshu’s bidding that evening. You believed his lies. That he had taken up odd jobs for old military buddies that lived in the area and it was not always guaranteed to be a classic 9 to 5.

Some days, Marc would see the way you looked at him and think you had figured it out—that he was with someone else and not the man you had known. However, you never said anything. You always gave a smile and when he asked “what?” You’d respond “nothing, just looking at you.”

It broke his heart to know how devoted you were.

With that same unwavering stare, you held your hand out to him from the bed.

“Come back?” You never demanded. How could he refuse?

Marc’s bare feet padded against the wooden floor—still creaking with every step but eventually his knees hit the mattress; taking your hand in his, you helped him settle in bed before switching off the light once more.

“Thank you.” Marc whispered as time slowly ticked past. His lips ghosted your forehead as you laid with your head on his shoulder.

“For what?” You responded so quietly he thought you had already returned to sleep.

“For understanding.” He needed the quiet to decide. He never got to decide for himself.

You didn’t know exactly what he meant.

But when you woke up the next morning, he was gone.

The next time you saw him was his mothers shiva and then he had left for good. The news was the one thing that brought you back.

As Arthur Harrow descended deeper into the pyramid, the hotter it became.

You had never been to Egypt before; it’s sights not unfamiliar but the land itself was. Seeing things, like a ancient structure cracked open by the purple light emanating from the man’s staff, questioned what you knew.

The world had nearly gone crazy from the time you were a kid until now. Everything was woven with mythology or other-worldly beings and it was hard to believe—until you saw it.

You stood amongst his followers with your hands bound. Feeling like a piece of meat for sacrifice, the nerves of what Harrow wanted were building. How did he know of you? You thought you acquainted what was an “average person” but here, beside the great structures of the past, Harrow had deemed you important to be there.

A part of you already knew it had something to do with Marc, you just hadn’t seen him yet.

After the purple glow had faded, the stones were parted enough to pass and a rough hand shoved your shoulder.

“Move.” You didn’t know his name. He was a henchmen of Harrow who sold his life away for the purpose of what? You could barely comprehend what was happening in front of you that, understanding their purpose was another pill that wouldn’t be easy to swallow.

“Come on.” He shoved again when your feet didn’t move.

The glaring sun met your eyes as you turned and looked over your shoulder at him. His face made you believe he was born angry. A heavy brow, critical eyes, and hands ready to be balled into fists. Men like him were convinced that their purpose was to save when it was really to kill.

“I said MOVE!” He shouted in your face, ready to pounce when a hand came in between your body and his, sticking out in protection, blocking you from his wrath.

“I got it from here. Go on.” The voice was feminine, stern and demanding. The man looked at her uncertain but said nothing as he huffed away, following after Harrow and the others.

The woman who intervened had a cloth covering her face, her hood over her hair. Her eyes were curious, yet filled with a frenzy that the others didn’t have. She waited until all others past before following with you, her hand on your elbow.

“Not going to yell at me to walk faster?” You didn’t know what made you speak out. The halls were suffocating, dark but growing hot; the heat from the sun beating down on the structure and making beads form on your hairline. The woman shook her head, the curls on her forehead bouncing with every step.

“No, just keep quiet.” She wasn’t angry; that was different from the rest of them.

“You have a name at least?”

The person walking in front of you turned, shushing you before continuing on with the convoy. The woman gripped your arm a little tighter, pulling her face closer to yours and whispering:

“Why does Harrow have you?”

“What?” You mumbled back with a furrowed brow. Her question was beyond what you believed she would ask. None of these people cared, why should she?

“Who are you to him? A sacrifice?”

“No!” You shook your head, fearing that your thoughts and her words could come true as everyone slowly descended further into darkness. “He just...” You trailed off, not sure if she would believe Harrow knocked you out and the next thing you knew you were in Egypt. “I was just looking for someone and he got to me before I could.”

The woman’s eyes behind her mask narrowed, confused, in a sense.

“He was on the news. Some security guard at a museum leaked a video of him acting strange and it went viral... I didn’t know where he was.”

“Marc?”

“You know him?”

She nodded her head before looking away to the group in front of the both of you. Everyone had stopped walking as Harrow lifted his staff and the purple glow emitted from it again. It rumbled the rocks before you, shooting cracks through them until they broke apart and the inside of the pyramid, the chamber, was revealed.

The woman pushed you to follow beside her as the group descended the steps and into the chamber–defenders already assembling in their forms to protect the structure they served, but you did not know that.

As Harrow prepared to engage in a fight, the woman turned to you in a rushed panic.

“You want to help Marc? Then come with me.”

She ran as fast as she could to the hall that broke away from the chamber on the left. You needn’t look back at Arthur Harrow killing innocent people to know that you needed to follow her.

She walked fast.

Her feet taking her speeding through the halls as fast as she could and in her consciousness, her head continued to look back for both the reality that Harrow’s followers would soon indeed follow, and that you were with her.

You made her curious. A single prisoner bound to Harrow’s crew without a reason and someone who knew her Marc.

Her mind could only think of a number of scenarios that would bring you here—not wanting to believe the one that came to mind first.

But that would have to wait. The wall of Gods cast in stone was quickly approaching. The woman pulled her mask down, turning to you once more.

“I don’t know how you know Marc, but this is the only way we can help him. Khonshu has been cast away and we have to set him free. What ever you do, do not let him choose you as his avatar.”

“His what!?”

“Marc will die if not for Khonshu, don’t limit those chances.”

“He’s dying!?” Your eyes went wide, not able to understand her completely. Egyptian Gods, avatars… the only avatar you knew of was Aang, and he was a cartoon.

“Just…” she huffed, frustrated. “Follow my lead. Don’t say anything.”

That you could do.

She turned and scaled the wall with her eyes for this so-called ‘Khonshu.’ A God, supposedly. Nothing should surprise you, however. You were blipped away by the snap of one man’s fingers and stranger things have happened in the world. But because it had to do with Marc, it’s surprised you. It put you near the center and you hated it.

The woman stopped when she found the statue and grasped it tightly.

“Remember, don’t let him choose you.”

“I remember.” You told her.

She walked further to a gap in the wall between a pillar and the end of it. Placing the statue on the ground, she stepped on it, crushing it to pieces as smoke began to fill the area around her. Suddenly, a massive being with the structure of a bird made solely out of bones appeared before the both of you.

“I do not sense Marc Spector in this world.” The tone was deep and unsettling. You meekly shrunk behind the woman as the God spoke. Without eyes to see, it looked at her and in extension, you.

“He died fighting, no doubt.”

“Marc’s dead.” You whispered beside her in disbelief.

“Fighting your war.” The woman responded in anger, ignoring you.

“And it’s far from over. If Marc is truly gone, I am in need of an avatar. Would you, Layla El-Faouly, protect the travelers of the night…”

The God did not finish. The woman, Layla, spat at him.

“Are you joking!? You turned Marc’s life into a waking nightmare. Why would I ever sign up for that?”

Khonshu was unimpressed. So it played dirty, as many Gods did.

“Then what of you, Y/n L/n, will you protect the travelers of the night as Marc did? It is far more fitting for the woman he trusted most to follow him in service.”

Layla was hurt.

But you knew the response.

You knew there was only one answer. Layla told you so, she knew what she was doing. The answer was no.

“Even if Marc is dead,” your voice felt more powerful than you thought—it wavered with sadness, however. “No tragedy could convince me this is what he would have wanted.”

“You won’t win against Harrow and Ammit alone.”

“We’ll take our chances.” Layla told him, defying the bird’s expectations.

“Marc was in crisis over you both… is lack of focus got him killed. You need a plan, little bugs… what I offer…”

“I don’t care what you can offer! Neither of us do!” Layla responded again. “Marc didn’t trust you. I don’t trust you. She doesn’t trust you. We’ll work together without either of us enslaving ourselves to you.”

The God needed no convincing. Layla was not giving her or your body to Khonshu to do his bidding, those hands belonged to someone else.

“We must rebind Ammit.”

“How?” You asked from behind her and making your stance in the situation heard. If Harrow brought you for a purpose, then you would pave that path.

“Only an avatar can do it.” Of course.

“I said no.” Layla reaffirmed and in an instant Khonshu was gone. He wasn’t going to win here, and certainly not by going back and forth with two women who did not want to be an avatar of him.

“Where did he go?” You asked, looking over your shoulder as if he would reappear again.

“To Harrow. Come on,” she set off once more. “They’ll know we did this.”

“Where are we supposed to go? It’s a pyramid!”

“There are a million paths. But we need to get out of here.”

“Wait!” You called after her, trying to catch her arm as she tried to avoid a silence. “Wait, Layla, please!” You cried out.

“We don’t have time to sit around and chat, alright?” Layla called out behind her.

“I don’t need a chat… how do you know Marc?” You asked her, keeping up with her speed and following in step beside her. She laughed and you furrowed your brows.

“I’m his wife.”

Wife.

Layla was Marc’s wife.

Your Marc.

Has a wife.

“I assume you didn’t know.” She said after the fact.

“Of course not.”

“Well I didn’t know he had a… girlfriend either.”

You were the girlfriend… you could have cried.

“I didn’t know he had a wife.”

Layla stopped her movements and you stuttered to a halt. She looked at you, truly, for the first time in that moment.

How different you and her were.

The faces, the hair, the eyes, nose, and lips. From the few minutes she had in your presence she knew you were nothing like her, but that didn’t make you a bad person.

It’s not your fault Marc has his secrets.

“How did you meet him?” She asked, her chest rising and falling quickly as she caught her breath.

“We grew up together. Went to the same school.”

She nodded her head, beginning to feel as though she was the ‘other woman’ yet she was the one he swore fidelity to.

“Do you live in London with him?” That made it seem like there could be more.

“No… I live in Chicago… I work there too.”

“And where were you six years ago?”

“I wasn’t…” you shook your head, trying to ease her pain as yours grew too. It was complicated, beyond means. And somehow, you were both choosing to understand rather than hate. “I wasn’t.”

“Oh.” She understood—that snap.

“I don’t know what’s going on, really. I just went looking for him because he disappeared two months ago and I’m scared for him.”

“Do you know about Steven?”

The difference between Layla and you was that she didn’t know about his DID. He had confided in you, found solace in it, but never let you see it. For a long while, Marc could control it well. He knew himself and the situations he put himself into but his mothers Shiva was too much and they began to merge—his alters.

There was nothing wrong with that, of course, but Marc wasn’t willing to risk the thought of his alters hating you or being something you disliked about him.

It was self preservation.

It was protection.

And you understood it.

“To an extent.” You replied and she nodded her head.

“We’re, um,” she cleared her throat. “Separated… Marc has demons he needed to deal with and we just never got around to signing the papers.”

“Oh.” Was all you could say now.

“It’s not our fault, his decisions. Marc’s a good guy and I’ll do what I can, as I know you will too, but it’s dangerous out there. Harrow is… a killer. A born one and there is no mercy from him nor Ammit. I need you to know that.”

“I could gather that.”

Above you, the ceilings shook with a fury and sand came filtering out of its cracks.

“There are good Gods. If it comes to it, go back to that hall—where those statues are, and find the one with the crescent headdress. They imprisoned him for a reason, but he’s good. If the Gods need avatars, we need good ones.”

“Me? An avatar of a God?” You laughed, not willing to accept her logic. “I am just a regular person, Layla… my life is not meant to be bound to a God.

“If we are chosen to lead, then we do.”

“But I am not meant to! I have a life! I have people who depend on me everyday—“

“—then you know exactly what it’s like to be called to lead. If not for yourself, then do it for Marc. Harrow brought you here to pawn you. Take that and make it his end, for Marc.”

In the heated halls of the great pyramid, Layla stared at you with pleading eyes. She loved Marc even though they were not on the best terms, she forgave you without blame because the one who brought you together was faulted. She needed you to be a hero—a trait you must have experience before but never self-admitted it because pride is often vain.

You needed to be a hero.

For Layla and Marc.

“Fine.” You agreed. “I’ll do it.”

It did not take long for Layla to send you back.

In the chamber of the Gods, the avatars of those still lingering to life laid nearly still. A man tried to crawl to safety and as Layla helped him, he detailed the ways to defeat Ammit but again, avatars were the only answer.

“What do we do?” You asked her, the man falling to the floor dead and you tried not look at him.

“We need more avatars.” She looked to the ceiling as though she was looking to the heavens. “Go to the wall but don’t go into the chamber. If Harrow sees you, there is no telling what he’d do.”

You nodded your head, but your feet stayed planted. She sensed the fear, she could see it in your eyes.

“Go…” she whispered, grasping your arm. “For Marc, right?”

The thought of Marc watching from whatever land laid beyond made you want to crumble and cry but you knew there was only one way. If Layla was going to do the same, you had to too.

So you sprinted off down the hall and moved as quickly as you could behind the pillars and crumbling stone.

Not a minute into your trek, Layla’s name screeched through the hair in a high pitched tone. It had to have been heard by Harrow because immediately, the entire structure began to shake. The walls getting thinner, the pyramid collapsing within itself.

“Keep going…” you mumbled to yourself. “Keep going.”

A stone fell from the ceiling as you turned a tight corner, halting your movement with the fright that you’d be crushed. But you kept going.

Within seconds, you could see the amber glow of the candles where the journey began. Each statue shaking from the pyramid’s movement, the flames behind them wavering too.

The one with the crescent headdress.

You searched row by row until your trembling fingers came upon a figure in the headdress Layla had told you and held a pen-like object in its hand.

“Please don’t be bad.” You whispered. “Please please please.”

Pulling it from its resting place, you placed it gingerly on the ground.

“And don’t be fucking scary.”

You stepped on it and the statue crumbled to pieces, emitting a green and yellow glow along the fog.

Like Khonshu had, a figure with the head of an Ibis, rose tall before you.

“To whom do I owe my gratitude for setting me free?”

The voice was masculine, deep. The head turned and looked down at you with eyes blinking green.

“A woman.”

“Y-yes.” You stuttered, beyond your element in that moment. “Yes. I am Y/n, the one who… released you.”

“It has been many years since I’ve seen these walls.” The God felt the crumbling stone with delicate finger tips. The talons scraping the walls with a deafening scrawl. “Do you know who I am?”

“Would it be wrong to admit no?” You felt silly talking to a God. Who were you to do so?

“No, no it would not.” Like a wind, the creature moved from the small space it had been given and around to the entryway of the small hall. “A wise decision for a mortal to make.”

It circled you like prey.

“I am Thoth, God of wisdom, magic, and judgement. And what hath your judgement be?”

“I do not wish to be judged.”

“Do you need wisdom?”

“No.” You rolled your shoulders back as the crumbling stopped around you. “But I am something you need.”

“And I need you for what?”

“An avatar.”

Tag List: @slytherheign @alotofsomething @milkiane @daddysfavoritesexkitten @silvery-luna @marasmixers @yesraazzi @spideysimpossiblegirl @ohmygodsebastianstan @trash-panda99 @teamspideyman

Tag list // CLOSED

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector #moon knight fanfic #moon knight marvel #moon knight x reader #moon knight spoilers #moon knight #oscar issac x reader #Oscar Isaac #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #Steven grant #Khonshu #layla moon knight #women supporting women #we love Layla here

1K notes · View notes

h3k3t · 2 years

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞

ɢɪꜰ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ: @ᴅᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴᴅᴊᴀʀɪɴ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴋᴏɴꜱʜᴜ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴊᴀᴋᴇ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ᴅʀᴀᴡꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ꜱɪɴɪꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴊᴀᴋᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋʟᴇʏ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ: 2.5ᴋ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ/ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛᴀɢꜱ: ᴊᴀᴋᴇ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ᴄʀᴇᴇᴘʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ, ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱ!ᴊᴀᴋᴇ, ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴀɢᴜᴇꜱ, ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴏᴏɴ ᴋɴɪɢʜᴛ ɴ / ᴀ: ᴇɴɢʟɪꜱʜ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍʏ ɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴀᴛɪᴄᴀʟ ᴇʀʀᴏʀꜱ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ

Since the world seems to have overcome the threat of Harrow and decided to continue undaunted the passage of time in a straight and linear way, following the goal of a half-line, the life of Marc Spector and Steven Grant (although it was not possible for the two realizing it) had begun, yes, a new narrative, but not linear, but cyclical.

After all, what could be expected, Konshu said, of such a troubled human being? In the end, no matter how much Marc Spector or Steven Grant learned each time from a new facet of their psyche as cracked as the surface of a mirror, there would always be a small, sharp shard of glass that would slip out of their attention and that in dangerous way, it would be left in that dark corner, free and off the leash.

Jake Lockley was basically this: a crazed and dangerously sharp splinter. A hound without a leash, which, however, greatly served the interests of the God of the Moon and of the night. Jake had always entered violently, but at the same time in silence, into the lives of the two alters, under their blind eyes and their clouded minds. Each new time that his being of him showed up in combat, he climbed without the slightest remorse every moral and pity obstacle, delimiting more and more the abysmal boundaries that existed between his limits and those of Marc and Steven; It didn't matter who got involved, it didn't matter if they were a woman or a man, if they were young or old, if Konshu was in charge, then it had to be done, without question. Jake probably knew perfectly well that it wasn't blind devotion to a God that pushed him to do what he did, of course not. The answer was more basic than one might think: he liked it. Feeling the channels of his veins seething with magma, the adrenaline throbbing out of the air, the excitement crawling every inch of his tanned skin, were the pleasant drug that pushed man to channel every primitive and animal instinct into the strength of his every punch, in every bullet fired and precisely aimed. He was better than them, he could in every border where the other two could not push themselves. He was audacity, he was the fist of revenge.

The third and mysterious alter had always remained in the shadows along the course of the other two adventures, but he had observed and learned as a good pupil how to take control of the body, so much so that he felt confident enough to think that he could concretely shape Steven and Marc's perception as a superlative artist molding a clay pot. And apparently it was. More or less.

Jake's eyes opened after what seemed like a strong jolt of magnitude had pervaded his body. His gaze lifted, studying his own reflection in the large mirror of an elegant and well-kept bathroom.

"Ugh, how the fuck does this pendejo dress?" he wondered to himself after taking a long, nervous sigh. There was no doubt that he had taken possession of the body after Steven. His classic bland librarian's attire, his dark curly hair falling to the side of his face, yes it was him. Konshu's silhouette did not take long to show itself in the reflection of that long and wide mirror, behind the man, who in the meantime had turned on the tap to rinse his face, in a possible attempt to give his face a less sleep-deprived aspect.

"The pyramid of Giza has been robbed, Jake Lockley" the God admitted in his usual solemn tone, while the man simply wiped his face which had assumed an almost apathetic and disinterested expression, even if his eyes they remained glued to the divine form reflected in the mirror. "Many ancient artifacts have been taken away, including the ushabti of some gods" Konshu continued, while Jake continued to fix himself. “I can feel one nearby in this museum. I want you to find it and bring it back to its place of origin” and seeing that from Jake's almost disinterested face there was no sign of an answer, the God pressed him with a: "Do I make myself clear, Jake Lockley?"

Jake would have sworn he saw Konshu's skull frowning in a pout and with the tone typical of a cheeky son, the man gave him a brief look and with a raised eyebrow replied: "Yeah, I got it".

"Good" concluded the divinity "I do not admit mistakes. It must not fall into the wrong hands, I do not want another Harrow running around the world" he recalled before disappearing into thin air as he had appeared before.

Jake let out another sigh, before turning his neck counterclockwise, letting each bone crack slowly. So he was in a museum, in fact that place seemed vaguely familiar in some way. Without lingering further in who knows what thoughts, the man found himself exiting the bathroom and crossing a small corridor he found himself in what was the historical museum where Steven worked before being abruptly fired for having "vandalized a bathroom". There were many people around that evening, many children ran around euphoric while their rather tired parents chased them and reminded them to have a minimum of decorum and not to touch the exhibits on display. Some tour guides passed by from time to time and Jake could recognize among many, the sexy and elegant figure of that woman he had asked for a date at a steakhouse in town long ago. Yeah, too bad that those two idiots had ruined everything and goodbye romantic evening and a good company in his bed.

"Steven?" a voice caught the attention of Jake, who did his best not to seem taken aback for a moment. He turned to the sweet, cordial voice, and when he recognized the figure behind him a thick eyebrow rose with a relaxed smile.

"Hey" he replied, the girl blinked her eyes in surprise for a moment, then smiled.

"Look at you, if I knew that being fired had this effect, I would have done it too long ago" she replied with a spontaneous giggle, before composing herself and cracking a somewhat shy expression.

Jake had a vague memory of that young woman, she was the only person with whom Steven really had long, cordial conversations when he worked at the gift-shop. Most likely he was certain that she was the only one who really remembered the name of that man so...anonymous. Jake took a moment to observe her better, it had been months since he last saw her, however he was convinced that something in her had changed. She seemed to have left her aura behind her as a sweet little girl just starting out on a permanent job after graduating, she seemed less awkward, but her radiant smile never seemed to fade for a second. Jake had never paid her so much attention in all honesty, sweet girls with a passion for archival dusty shits were Steven's favorite, not his, however...

"Apparently it looks like working has done you good" he replied smoothly, before slipping a hand into his pocket.

"Nonsense, I haven't changed that much" she replied, shaking her head shyly "Where did you go? It seemed that you had completely disappeared from London” she added, awkwardly disguising a slight concern. But Jake didn't let himself be so intimidated, he was a very good liar and apparently, with the right gestures and moves some women were really easy to calm down or distract.

“I traveled, you know, I needed fresh air” he replied vaguely. She nodded several times, decided not to test the waters too much and to settle for that slim answer.

“Okay, let's forgive you for not calling your work-friend for like 7 months. After all, Donna is the bad cop in here, right?" Donna, yeah, that nerve-wracking bitch...Jake had repeatedly wondered what had stopped him from taking control of the body in the previous months and hitting her over the head several times with the first gadget he had found in his hands.

"Oh I expect you'll be sweet to me" replied the man, tilting his head slightly to one side and giving her a sweet grin that hid a much darker and more disturbed soul under the friendly blanket.

“So what brings you here? Don't tell me you're only back in London because a new collection of artifacts has just been brought in” the tone of the young woman was ironic, but knowing her friend Steven, the answer she expected to hear was obvious: 'yes' .

"You read my mind, sweetheart" the girl's doe eyes blinked several times, once again signaling her sudden amazement. A shy laugh escaped from her mouth made up with a soft lipstick, her gaze broke away from Jake for a moment, perhaps because she was not used to maintaining such prolonged eye contact with Steven, and then returned to the figure of the man, throwing him a look as if she wasn't understanding who he was standing in front of her.

“You may have gotten more breezy and changed your accent from Camden Town to this weird latino accent… but in the end, deep inside you, you remained my Stevie” she replied shaking her head with a naive smile.

Something in Jake cracked, a strange jolt made the ground go out of sight for a few seconds under his feet, for a moment that lying rogue had found himself without an immediate answer. A myriad of conflicting sensations were pushing him as when he was intent on extirpating the life of Konshu's targets, but this time it was not something entirely ecstatic or pleasant. That phrase 'but in the end, deep inside you, you remained my Stevie' made him clench his jaw for a few seconds, while a tight knot formed in his heart, and suddenly the blood he pumped turned into a strange greenish poison. His muscles contracted briefly, while the beats accelerated, and his eyes took on a darker, more intimidating, more predatory aura. Your Stevie? Ah. Oh sweet girl, if only you had been even a little aware of who you really had in front of you. If only you had known what those hands would be capable of, how drenched in blood they were, how easily they could surround your smooth, soft neck and with a slight pressure make you lack oxygen and quickly turn you into a poor prey. who choked to be spared for some special reason. Your Stevie, mh? What stupid thought made you think that someone as insipid as Steven could be able to carry on a conversation as he was doing with you? What made you think that a shy and awkward man like Steven could even just call you 'sweetheart' or compliment you on how gorgeous you were that night? Why did you remain anchored to the past and old figure of that incapable Englishman? Why didn't you just focus on him? Only on Jake.

The silence that had been created in the meantime had also left her in suspense; In a remote point of her mind she had heard an alarm bell ringing. That look from him...it had grabbed her breath violently, making her lungs empty, just like the day her colleague was fired. She was in the video surveillance room after convincing Bek to show her what had happened and when she met Steven's gaze from the previous night staring at one of the surveillance cameras, she was absolutely certain that that person was by no means the loving and shy colleague she knew.

"Your Stevie?" he then asked, while one side of his mouth formed an amused smirk "And when was I ever yours?" the words were indeed very direct, strong and full of inner confidence, a swagger that Steven would never have been able to achieve.

"I-" all of a sudden the girl felt pervaded by a sense of discomfort, which she would not have been able to describe concretely. Her words struggled to come out, and suddenly she felt completely disarmed, disoriented and confused. It all seemed so surreal, he was surreal. "Sorry, maybe I didn’t mean-"

"Easy there, I was kidding" Jake's body seemed to come back relaxed, and he let out a slight laugh, while he looked at his colleague as if she were a little doe on the defensive "Just kidding" he repeated more calm, bringing the thick index and middle fingers of his right hand under the chin of the young woman, so that he could raise her sweet face (which in the meantime had lowered in slight shame) and make their eyes meet.

The man's eyes that previously looked like those of a wolf looking for prey, were now sweet and friendly and soft again, just like Steven's. He had never brought her so much attention, he had never dared to touch her in any way since they first met at work, but whether it caused her either pleasure or discomfort was something she was too confused at the moment to understand.

"You are so changed, Steven" the friend admitted with an innocent and spontaneous tone, as she felt those dark eye sockets almost swallowing her soul. Jake smiled, like when a person smiles at a silly question from a child.

"And is it bad?" he asked, almost taking pleasure in asking her such unusual and uncomfortable questions. Questions that it was impossible to sweeten the pill or turn around with words.

"I don't think so" she replied. He raised a curious eyebrow.

"You don’t think so?" he echoed almost laughing, and she imitated him with a light and a little shy laugh.

" I don't know, it's as if you were---another person" she finally admitted, and it was at that moment that Jake walked away from her with a satisfied smile, listening to her finally start breathing again as their faces moved away.

"Maybe we just need to get to know each other again, after all you have changed too" proposed the man putting both hands back into the pockets of his trousers and tilting his face slightly to one side, waiting for her answer.

"Yes. Yes, I guess you're right” she finally replied, nodding with a sweet smile, regaining her positive and radiant aura. After all, what harm would recover a lost friendship, right?

"Good. So how about showing me the new collection? I'm dying to see the new finds” In her eyes it seemed that Steven had regained his usual and contagious enthusiasm, even if it was now more contained. However, Jake had as usual got what he wanted, his mission goal and a new pastime to play with.

"Oh yes! Follow me, I'll show you everything. You will not believe it, they found ushabti perfectly preserved and intact in the pyramid of Giza!” she said, accompanying him to a wing of the museum. Jake then showed her a wide and satisfied smile.

"Yeah? Tell me more” he asked as the voices of both disappeared amid the hum of the crowd that filled the various halls and corridors.

#moon knight #Jake Lockley #marc spector #steven grant #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #heket works

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ask-spiderspike · 2 years

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Spiderspike crouched down further on the gargoyle, trying her best to stay down in the shadows. Morbius was.. okay, he wouldn't kill her, at least, but she'd rather just stay in the background of all of this. It wasn't her problem, it was MK's. She was staying out of it.

Morbius, the living vampire, whatever, sat at a heavy wooden desk in front of her, squinting at paperwork. Boor-ing. Marc was in the other room, discussing things with witnesses outside. The entire building was shadowed, gothic, and vaugely unsettling- apparently, Morbius liked to stick to an aesthetic. It was better than a lab, but Spike still shuddered a little.

The door opened, and Marc stepped inside, in his Mr. Knight outfit. Spike couldn't believe that they stuck to two aliases, but they were always pretty confusing. He pulled out the chair on the other side of the desk and sat down, resting his elbows on the table and rubbing his temples.

"I'll be blunt, Micheal: I know about as much as you do," Marc sighed, "I don't recognize any of this. Might be an alternate version of me, might not be, might just be a similarity in aesthetic choices."

Morbius, from across the table, squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and took a drink from the water bottle next to him. Spike saw red on his fangs as he gritted his teeth.

"Konshu's been pissed-" The "bird" perched on Marc's shoulder tilted it's head and muttered an angry something in ancient Egyptian- "We suspect someone else is in Manhattan, and that's all of the information I can add-"

MOVE

Spike jumped onto the ceiling and barely kept in the shadows as the window broke open. A man in a deep black costume with yellow accents jumped in, followed by a long white cape.

Their suspect.

Marc stopped being Marc and started being the Moon Knight, crecent darts flying towards the black-clad attacker. The attacker threw his own, filling the room with white screaming flashes. Morbius jumped back to board up the door into the rest of the building, the vampire flitting through the shadowed corners.

...Inexplicably, Konshu landed on Spike's back and started pruning his feathers. Spike dodged another dart and he squacked, and he followed her when she scrambled into a vent.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" She spat to the god, squinting through the grates.

"I am a bird-"

"That can't fucking die! Why have you been so damn angry lately, anyway, since I can finally ask you privately, do you fucking-"

"He's claiming to be my fist, and he's hurting exactly who I claim to protect," he spat, almost starting to rant before Spike interrupted him.

"He claims to be WHAT? You didn't think to tell anybody this?" Spike yelled. She looked back down at the fight, and multiple darts were stuck in the suspect's arm- but, that wasn't quite as important as the metallic silver scarab scampering into his hood. A tracker.

Spike thought that it shouldn't have been needed, considering that apparently the bird next to her knew the entire fucking story.

"I-" he started, and Spike grabbed him by the neck, opened the grate again, and tossed him out. While he was falling, Spike's eyes quickly spotted another horror- MK was bleeding out of his face, and the vampire hunter was gone. Morbius was holding the door, and ran out to let the others know.

She dropped out to go help her friend, pulling off his coat and digging around in the pockets for gauze and rubbing alcohol. MK grumbled as she patched up his face, pushing her away once he was conscious enough to finish the job.

"Thank you," he said, and by the accent- like an actor from the 40s on steriods, the most stereotypical transatlantic accent possible- Spike recognized him as Steven, and she sighed in relief. Marc would've probably been angry that she followed them. Spike glared at Konshu, trying to dust off his feathers after the fall. Steven looked at them, confused.

"Did he do-?"

"He knows something," Spike interrupted, still glaring at the bird. He shifted uncomfortably, muttered something else in his native language, and rustled his feathers.

"He- the Hunter- claims to be my fist, Steven. And I know that I did not choose him."

#moon arc

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defyxoblivionmoved · 2 years

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Okay, but I love the idea that Kenneth first found out about Konshu when he and his squad encountered Moon Knight during WW2, since there was a canonical Fist of Konshu fighting in that war lol

For an emotionally repressed young man in the middle of a bloody war a god who protects travelers in the night definitely would have sounded like a good god to follow.

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marcfrenchie · 2 years

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anyway my own ideas for a better mktv

- 20 ep cartoon or bust. funky and psychedelic visuals

- ENSEMBLE. LET MK HAVE FRIENDS. frenchie, crawley, gena, and layla (i like her), maybe soldier and reese join the crew later

- sussinctify mks major comic arcs but don’t be reductionist about it. maybe first 10 eps are mk with the gang (mk1980) and then they get in a big fight/mk does something fucking stupid and he splits off and does the mk2014 mrknight thing for a few eps, before going through something like mk2016 and joining back up and deciding to open the midnight mission in the last ep

- konshu isnt treated as a hallucination or anything but he doesnt really show up around other characters and theres very little egytptian mythos going on because moon knight isnt actually about that DISNEY

- dr badr can be there too as a treat. as an occasional ally

- think tt2003 vibes but they can say fuck

- jake steven and marc are actually friends fuck you. never show up onscreen together unless its in headspace and they talk to eachother through voiceovers- they have slightly different accents so you can tell whos talking but its not mktv level intense- jake is new york, marc is chicago, steven is transatlantic i think

- original villians occasionally since mk has never had a consistent rouges gallery

- theme song retelling of mks backstory or bust. episode dedicated to each characters background/arc in the first ten eps

- i am 99 percent sure i am going to start writing fanscripts after i post this because its so indepth but. i dunno shakes fist disney do better i came up with this all in 15 minutes

#moon knight #spiderz

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sl33pyperson · 9 months

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hello ive been losing my shit about moon knight constantly. idek where im up to on my screenshots fuck

i love this detective only bc hes a mess. thanku sir. u drserve ur chips.

screaming.

i love a man who LOVES his trumcheon so so so much. he loves saying truncheon. mwah

mk just casually being the driver. i lost my shit at this. jake plz

frog jump!,!!,

hold up bc thos is the sweetest thing marlene has done. respect. BUT

this is directly under it. i HAAAAAATTTEEEE when they show off the face details. who is this. this isnt my moon knight. wheres that spiderman pic where they just traced over a stock photo of an old guy

netflix iron fist annoys and bores me. i love seeing him get bullied so much <333 shut the fuck up sir <33

rly enjoying how the comic is pushing more for “actual seperate personalities”. i am not smart enough for a good and smart analysis and im also very tipsy rn. but it is fun. comic very much went from marc tried to run away from his life by pretending to be other people to “these other people actively want marc to fuck off and die” STEVEN HATES MARC SO MUCH AND IT HURRTTSSS

CRYIIIINGGGGG like. that whole lil bit about them literally feeling like a ghost just inhabiting a body thanks to konshu. screaming

HE JUST. THROWS THE PAPER IN HIS FACE (also i am still screaming)

welcome to “why do they frame marlene like this constantly!!” featuring: marlene getting dressed up to fuck only for steven to come home freaking the fuck out and beating up everything. sorry m no sex for u

marlene shut the fuck UP

this is really cute tho. precious

this panel is just sexy as fuck

HES SO TINNYYYYYYYY

just khonshus lil playtoy, trapped forever in his grasp, hehe

WHENEVER THEY LET MK BLEND WITH THE RAIN! PURE SEX

wait shit thats the last one. good panel to leave it on. mwah mwah im having so much fun

#speaking time

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brettsinger · 1 year

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Micronauts and More

My guest this week is comedian Mark Scalia! What comics did Mark collect? What are the Micronauts? What weird character was in a Star Wars comic? Who is Rom and what was his deal? Who is Michael Golden? Who is Psycho-Man? Why are crossovers so much fun? What characters did the Micronauts crossover with? How brilliant was the casting of Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark? How great was Willem Dafoe in No Way Home? What's cool about Moon Knight? Is Batman more interesting than Superman? What did they change the Micronauts' name to? Who were the Starriors? Check out Harrison's Comics in Salem, MA.

Show notes: Michael Golden: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Golden_(comics)

Harrison's Comics (AMAZING comic book store) https://www.harrisonscomics.net/

Reading tips: Micronauts https://amzn.to/3Jb1t3d

X-Men and the Micronauts https://amzn.to/3mpiWMA

Micronauts with Ant-Man https://amzn.to/3EU7aQC

Rom https://amzn.to/3JcejOQ

Star Wars https://amzn.to/3y6sf6N

Moon Knight https://amzn.to/3kQhemP

Fist of Konshu https://amzn.to/3ILotVf

X-Men/Teen Titans https://amzn.to/3EUGUWg

Transformers/GI Joe https://amzn.to/3ZBEkMJ

Watch tips: Spider-Man: No Way Home https://amzn.to/3IR2sEz

Emily the Criminal (not super heroes) https://amzn.to/3ILvDIZ

Breaking (not super heroes but a GREAT movie) https://amzn.to/3kJbnjg

Batman The Animated Series, World's Finest https://amzn.to/3ybbuHy

Battle of the Planets https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Kb4YsJ91X4

Starblazers https://amzn.to/3mnORgp

Recorded 2-18-23 via Zoom

Check out Comics Who Love Comic Books!

#comic books #comics #comedians #comedy #marvel #dc #mcu

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irvinenewshq · 2 years

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Halloween Costume Present Week 3

First ever exploding fist bump between Jupe and Gordy from Jordan Peele’s Nope Picture: Sapphire Sandalo/@SapphireSandalo That is Halloween and it’s time for costumes that may make us scream in horror or delight. For week three of io9’s official costume present, we’ve got some costume social gathering goodness and remark submissions. And naturally canines in costumes, due to our editorial crew! Don’t neglect to depart us costume feedback beneath and listed below are some useful strategies when you’re nonetheless on the hunt for this 12 months’s look. You’ll be able to submit from Halloweens or conventions previous. Present us what you’ve received to rep your favourite fandoms. Right here’s this week’s highlights, which embody superior appears to be like impressed by Jordan Peele’s Nope and Mavel Studios reveals on Disney+ like She-Hulk, Werewolf by Night time, and Moon Knight. There’s additionally lovely spookiness from Beetlejuice and Halloween. Nope Picture: Sapphire Sandalo/@SapphireSandalo The main points on paranormal investigator and horror storyteller Sapphire Sandalo’s handmade Jupe getup from Nope are unimaginable. Picture: Sapphire Sandalo/@SapphireSandalo G/O Media might get a fee Jupe appears to be like up whereas Gordy approaches. What an excellent duo costume concept! Wonger’s Bestie from She-Hulk Picture: Dani Fernandez/@MsDaniFernandez Author and actress Dani Fernandez is able to watch Sopranos with the Sorcerer Supreme. Marvel by Night time Picture: Mike Manalo/@tidybowlboy182 Popular culture commentator Mike Manalo reveals off his versatile Marvel Studios appears to be like as Moon Knight’s Marc Spector, Steven Grant’s Mr. Knight, and Konshu—plus Werewolf by Night time’s Jack Russell. Squid Sport Picture: Laura Sirikul/@Lsirikul Scariest costume from the scariest recreation on the Netflix present, as worn by popular culture author Laura Sirikul. Workforce Rocket Picture: NightRunner and NightWife Meowth that’s proper! An lovely couple’s look from NightRunner and NightWife. It’s Showtime! Picture: Sabina Graves/Gizmodo My canine Gus Gus as Beetlejuice with a lurking Ghostface. Say Beetlejuice thrice and get thrice the juice. Right here I’m with Gus Gus and companion Jonathan Graves, Looney Tunes fandom’s This Means Podcast host. Picture: Sabina Graves/Gizmodo The ghosts with essentially the most. Halloween Ends Picture: Cheryl Eddy/Gizmodo And editorial crew member Cheryl Eddy’s canine Leroy says it’s time to place the Halloween motion pictures to mattress for now. Submit your costumes beneath! And don’t neglect, as at all times: please publish footage of your self (and solely your self), and inform us who you might be, what you’re dressed as, and just a little bit about how you place your costume collectively. Need extra io9 information? Take a look at when to count on the newest Marvel and Star Wars releases, what’s subsequent for the DC Universe on movie and TV, and every part you should find out about Home of the Dragon and Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Energy. Originally published at Irvine News HQ

#Irvine News HQ

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themarvelproject · 3 years

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Moon Knight #1 (2021) cover by Mike Mayhew in an homage to Steve Platt’s iconic cover to Marc Spector: Moon Knight #55 (1993)

#marvel comics #marvel variant covers #moon knight #mike mayhew #steve platt #marc spector #fist of konshu #marvel 1990s #marvel 1993 #marvel 2021

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marveltales · 5 years

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After saving the planet from exploding, Fitz didn’t die. Instead, Fitz and James/Jemma went on a honeymoon. James took a lot of pictures, and everytime he took a knew one, he sent them to the team. By the time they were back, he had filled up two albums. One with pictures of them in several situations. Some of which were too personal to be shown and he still showed. The other with mineral, rocks, plants and scientific discoveries that James found fascinating. You can try to bring the romantic in him, but he’d still see the pragmatism in everything.

*in a universe where it is Wardfitzsimmons, Ward went with them. Most pictures of them were taken by Ward, including provocative pictures that didn’t make it into the public album.

#headcanon;;#the doc(james)#the doctor(fitz)#fist of konshu(ward)

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sperastella · 2 years

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Moon Knight episode 2 is as fantastic as I had hoped. I absolutely loved how they introduced Marc's backstory from Steven's perspective. When Steven gave back his nametag at the museum my heart broke for him. He really loved that job.

Authur Harrow is so unnerving and a great antagonist and Layla is already fantastic. You just know Marc is going to stay the Fist of Konshu at the end in order to protect her. Also, watching Marc take over and absolutely wreck the jackle-thing was great. Lastly...

Mr. Knight

Need I say more? I loved everything about Mr. Knight.

Perfection.

#moon knight #moon knight spoilers #steven grant #marc spector #mr knight #layla #arthur harrow #khonshu

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