#platonic khonshu

[sailorkamino]

Chaotic

chaos in us masterlist | moodboard

relationships: steven grant x avenger!witch!reader, future marc spector x reader, jake lockley x reader [gender neutral]

word count: 2.3k

summary: When you move to London you aren't expecting to fall in love. You also aren't expecting an Egyptian god who kind of sounds like Darth Vader to crash your date but that's just your life apparently.

warnings: reader assaults khonshu with bread, enemies to friends w/ khonshu, big bird is kinda rude to steven but u put him in place

a/n: reader uses chaos magic and is also psychic, f/c = favorite color, steven/marc/jake are moon knight but lets pretends the whole harrow/armpit drama hasn't happened yet, thanos never happened bc i said so

Before you even met Steven, you felt him. 

That sounds odd but your abilities make you constantly aware of others, which can be a lot. Especially in such a bustling city like London. Of course you didn’t read his mind or anything. It’s a common misconception that telepaths just love to read minds but that’s not true. You only use it on enemies for information, if you just went around listening to people's inner thoughts you’d probably drive yourself mad. People are weird. 

All that being said, you decided to go to the London museum, thinking it would be quiet and relaxing. A nice little escape. You didn’t think how overwhelming it would be to be surrounded by history, invading your senses with centuries of stories. Mostly fucked up stories because colonialism. After years of studying magic your mind is like a fortress, but that didn’t stop the artifacts from banging on your mental door. You’re incredibly grateful that you’re able to control your visions now. You do not want to see all this shit first hand.

You manage to stumble into the gift shop, one hand rubbing your temple in an attempt to ward off the coming headache. You sense some kind of power, something looming and ancient. You wonder if it’s from the Egyptian wing you just walked through but this feels more… recent. It’s an odd sensation that isn’t helping your overwhelmed mind at all.

“Are you alright?” A gentle voice acts. Apparently you aren’t doing great at hiding your discomfort. You look up to meet the deepest brown eyes you’ve ever seen, framed with dark eye bags. He's absolutely beautiful. Like a sleep deprived male model. Before you can answer you find yourself stumbling, dots swimming in your vision. He quickly leaves the counter to grasp your arm with large, gentle hands.

His touch burns through your designer coat (a parting gift from Tony Stark) but not in a bad way. His energy is unique. Divided but whole. Chaotic but reassuring. “I’m fine, just a dizzy spell.” You mumble, trying not to lean into his body. Would it be manipulative if you pretended to faint so he would catch you? No, you’re better than that. Barely.

“You sure? Maybe you should sit down. I could get you a drink, or a snack.”

You should tell him that you’re fine but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to pull away. He’s just so genuine. And look at that hair... would it be weird to touch it? You suppress the urge, managing a polite response, “that sounds nice, but I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble. I think I just need some fresh air.”

“Don’t worry, my boss is always telling me to be more helpful with customers. Lets get you outside, yeah?”

You grin, lidded eyes flicking to his name tag, “thank you, Steven. That’s very kind of you.”

He flashes the sweetest smile you’ve ever witnessed, making you even more light headed. He keeps his grasp on your arm as he leads you to the exit. You can already feel your mind clearing thanks to the distance between you and the artifacts. Once you’re safely leaning against the wall Steven speaks up, “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere."

You can't help but dopily grin as he speed walks away. Within a minute he’s back by your side. He presents you a bag of scarab gummies, “here you are.” He pauses for a moment before adding, "I don’t know why we sell these, they weren’t eating stuff like that in Ancient Egypt, were they?

“Thank you.” You smile, finding his rambling adorable. You try not to react when you take the candy from him and his calloused fingers brush your own. “I’m also realizing I never introduced myself, I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. That’s a pretty name.”

Before you can stop yourself you mutter under your breath, “you’re prettier.” You watch in horror as he tenses up, ears burning red. “I-I think you’re pretty too. Beautiful, more like it,” he fumbles. Suddenly the gummies are out of your hand. You look down to see them floating above your palms, surrounded by a F/C glow. You quickly snatch them from mid air. Luckily Steven is too busy staring at his shoes in embarrassment to notice.

You clear your throat nervously, catching his attention. “So, do you like working here?” Really? That’s the best you could come up with. You mentally facepalm as he nods like a rather adorable bobblehead. “Oh yeah, I love history. It would be nice to be a tour guide though. Maybe one day, right?”

You hum in response, shoving some sweets in your mouth before you can ask any other dumb questions. “Do you, um, like your job?” He asks politely.

You pause. So he really doesn’t recgonize you. Not that you consider yourself famous but ever since you joined the Avengers on a few missions you found yourself thrust in the public eye. You meet a lot of fans but people also tend to be… wary of you. Apparently being one of the most powerful magic users on Earth makes them uneasy.

“I work… in security.” That’s technically not a lie. “It can be stressful but I get to travel a lot so that’s fun.”

“Have you ever been to Egypt?”

The childlike excitement in his voice is absolutely adorable. “A few times, yeah. What about you?”

“No, I wish. I’d love to go someday.” He sighs wistfully. “Enough about me though, are you feeling any better.”

His concern makes your heart flutter. “Much.” You grin, shuffling your bag on your shoulder to look for your wallet. “How much were the gummies?”

“They were only a few pounds, don’t worry about it.”

Thoughtful, gorgeous, and polite? You’re convinced Steven was written by a woman. You bite your lip in a way you hope looks flirty. “Well I need to pay you back somehow. What about lunch?”

He freezes, looking at you incredulously. “Are you… asking me out?” Any confidence you had starts to shatter. “I’m trying,” you mumble embarrassed. He shakes his head vehmently, “no, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just surprised! I mean, you’re so beautiful!”

You smile so big your cheeks hurt. “I think you’re beautiful too, Steven.”

His tan cheeks flame. “Thank you.”

“Can I have your number?”

He nods enthusiastically. You pull out your phone and type in his digits as he tells them to you. “I left my phone in the gift shop but I’ll text you as soon I get inside,” he promises, rocking on the balls of his feet. You grin as you send him a message.

“Stevie!”

A loud, feminine voice makes you both flinch. An aggravated woman pokes her head out the door, popping her chewing gum far too loudly for your liking. “What are you doing out- wait. Are you Y/N L/N?”

Steven looks at you in confusion as you nod with a charming smile. You can tell that she’s Steven’s superior and decide to help him out. “I am. What’s your name, hon?”

“Donna! I’m a big fan. It was so mental when you closed that portal to hell in New Jersey!”

Steven’s eyes become impossibly wider. “Yeah, that was a difficult one.” You reminisce fondly. “Would you like a picture?”

She nods excitedly, pulling out her phone. You take a selfie, trying not to chuckle at her excited gasp when you sling an arm around here. You try to ignore Steven’s bewildered gaze. Hopefully what you’re about to do will make up for your little fib.

“You know Steven here has been very helpful,” you muse after she clicks the photo. She looks at you surprised. You can already tell she doesn’t particularly like the man (which is quite bewildering to you, how is it possible to dislike Steven?)

"Really?”

You nod with an affirmative hum. “I bet he’s your best tour guide, isn’t he?”

“Oh, he actually works in the giftshop.”

You feign shock. “Really? I was hoping he could give me a private tour sometime,” you pout sadly. Donna hurries to comfort you, “oh, he can do that! I’ve been meaning to promote him anways!”

“That’s great!” You grin, turning your attention back to a very confused brunet. “I’ve gotta go but I’ll be looking forward to seeing you, Steven,” you purr, lightly squeezing his (suprisingly muscular) bicep. He nods dumbly watching you walk down the steps.

“Oi, what were you doing with a bloody superhero?” Donna asks him incredulously, the jealousy clear in her voice.

“Planning a date.” He breathes out softly, still wondering if the interaction was just a dream.

____

It’s the day of your date and Steven is ecsatic. Marc and Jake are not. They agree you’re beautiful but are very against the idea of going out with an Avenger, saying it will get in the way of their ‘business’ with Khonshu. But Steven is tired of letting that bloody pigeon influence his life so he ignores all of them, puts on his favorite jumper, and goes to the closest florist shop.

And that’s how he finds himself standing infront of you with a boquet of sunflowers.“These are just beautiful!” You gush, pressing a kiss againt his cheek as you take them. He flushes adorably. You do a quick scan around the park to make sure no one is looking before conjuring a vase with water. Did you do it just to show off? Yes. Yes you did.

You place the flowers in the middle of the picnic blanket. “Now we have a centerpiece,” you hum happily, grabbing the wicker basket you brought. He sits across from you, watching in awe as you pull a variety of noodles, dumplings, rice, and tofu dishes out. Like clowns coming out of a little car.

“Try this,” you offer, handing him one of the containers. “And don’t worry, it’s all vegan.”

He opens it to reveal ball shaped food he recognizes as dim sum. He uses the provided chopsticks to pop one into his mouth, moaning at the combination of steamed vegetables and rich seasoning.

“This is amazing!” You grin in response, working on your own fruit and tofu skewer. “That’s because it’s the real deal. I went on a little trip to Hong Kong this morning.”

He pauses mid bite, resembling a confused chipmunk. You snicker. “I can teleport, remember?” You point at his empty cup, feeling it with juice. “Maybe on our next date I can take you to Egypt?”

He inhales the dimsum in shock, choking loudly. You use your powers to pull the food out of Steven’s throat, looking at him in concern. He quickly swallows the drink you made him.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, aces. Just got a bit too excited.”

“You’re adorable, Steven.”

As the date goes on you open up to each other. He tells you about his DID, which you could somewhat sense already. His mind felt different but you couldn’t put a finger on it. You tell him about how you struggled to control your powers and accept yourself. You used to feel like a weapon but you learnt that weapons aren’t always a bad thing, they can be used to protect others. Instead of a nuclear bomb you started seeing yourself as a shield.

For once Steven doesn’t feel like an outsider. He wants to tell you about Moon Knight. He knows you won’t judge him. Just as he begans to build up the courage a booming, gravelly voice rattles in his head.

“Don’t tell them anything, worm!”

You both flinch. A shiver runs through you as your hair stands on end. All your instincts are telling you to get ready for a fight. That sense of ancient power you felt in the museum is back tenfold. “Did you hear that?” You ask Steven.

He looks at you in complete shock. “What?”

“Can the witch hear me?”

“Okay, where is that Darth Vader voice coming from?” You groan, eyes glowing F/C. Your powers mean you’re always aware of your surroundings, you don’t like this sudden uncertainty. Especially not when Steven is at risk.

Suddenly a large mummified being with a bird skull appears behind your date. Because this is what your life has come to apparently. “Can you see me, witch?” Without saying anything you use your abilities to send a roll flying, hitting him square in the beak. He flinches back in surprise. Steven watches on, not knowing if he should laugh or shake in fear. Maybe both.

“Does that answer your question?” You ask sassily. “You’re some kind of deity right? I’m getting Egyptian vibes,” you muse outloud. Despite having no real facial features he manages to look unimpressed. “I thought you had magic, yet you can’t figure out who I am, little one?"

You squint at him for a moment, reaching out your consciousness. “Khonshu? I think I’ll call you cashew.”

“You will not!” He bellows. Poor Steven flinches at the volume but you just purse your lips. “It’s not fun being called stupid nicknames, is it?”

He pauses, tilting his skeletal head at you. “Excuse me?”

“You called Steven a worm. That was very rude,” you huff protectively. “You should really treat your avatar better.”

“You know about avatars?”

“Magic, babe,” you remind, wiggling your fingers as sparks dance between them. “I want to be in Steven's life, and his alter’s if they’ll have me. We’ll be spending time together so we might as well get along, don’t you agree?”

The god nods reluctantly. “I suppose.”

“Good,” you beam up at him. “But if you ever disrespect Steven again we will have words,” you promise in a sickly sweet voice.

Steven looks at you in absolute awe. ‘I changed my mind. I like them,’ Marc speaks in his head. ‘That was fucking hot,’ Jake adds on helpfully. For once the system agrees on something.

____

taglist: @jallerentrags @huitzilinthebudgie3 @wintergirlsoilder2 @dreamerkim @jupitersmoon167 @n1ght5h4d3-24 @darkened-writer @sunipostsstuff @bex-tk1 @musicconversedance @nemtodd-barnes1923 @thegotfangirl @your-frenly-emo-rat @dadstarkblacksoul @certifiedhunter @tagakalat @galactic-galabee @yoongiwithglasses @theyaremorethanjustfictional @booksandbenbarnes @faefanatic @ness-is-vanillabean @lovesickollie @kemisuu @missdragon-1 @ristare @jck-r @brekkers-desigirl

if ur name is highlighted i couldn't tag u :(

a/n #2: i've never had such a long taglist! thank you for giving my work so much love before i even posted it🥹

#steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant fluff #moon knight fluff #platonic khonshu #khonshu x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x witch!reader #steven grant x avenger!reader #marc spector x witch!reader #marc spector x avenger!reader #jake lockley x witch!reader #chaos in us #moon knight #moon boys

[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

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #marvel #mcu #teen reader #mcu x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #moon knight #moon knight fic #marc spector x reader platonic #marc spector x reader #marc spector #marc spector x daughter reader #daughter reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x reader platonic #steven grant #khonshu x reader #khonshu #khonshu x reader platonic

[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

#marc spector x teen reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector #moon knight x reader platonic #moon knight x reader #moon knight x teen!reader #x teen!reader #× reader #steven grant #jake lockley #khonshu

[80pairsofcrocs]

baby scarab || 1

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

synopsis : in which a schizophrenic teenager could see a certain god

takes place after the Marvel series Moon Knight, may have spoilers?

pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic)reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader

i will be using she/her pronouns

~~~

A/N : this is all over the place btw, also fun fact, i have schizophrenia so that's kind of what motivated me in writing this. i'm going off of what i experience. pls enjoy <3

also if you want to be in the taglist, please ask! its not a problem

TW : mental disorders, child abandonment, language, fighting(?) let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

some would say its freaky,

others would say its like a superpower, like seeing ghosts is cool right?

you would say its a bit of both

you had schizophrenia, a mental disorder you have had for the past couple years, causing you to have hallucinations such as seeing shadows nobody else can, or fire where theres not fire, and that had absolutely nothing to do with ghosts, and you were labeled delusional by many peers.

you didn't take offense to it, because you were delusional. in fact your disorganized thinking has gotten you in trouble.

not because you're stupid, no, but because of others at your school making fun of you for it, you think its ok to beat them up for it.

which only fueled it. it caused others happiness to see you in trouble.

it also causes you to get suspended a lot.

such as now.

you were heading up to your apartment that you stayed in alone, since your parents dumped you in the street when you were young, and going through too many foster homes was a pain so you chose to just get your own place to call a home.

you just worked at an average paying coffee shop near your school, which you had to walk to.

you could either pay rent on time or get a car, so you thought that some cardio each morning and evening wouldn't be too bad.

you got into the elevator and saw another... man.. as well. he was in a bird costume and he was staring- or you thought he was staring at you.

"'scuse me." you move your arm past the extremely tall man to press your floors button. the bird man looked down at you with its creepy mask, and you tried to ignore it until it touched your shoulder and gasped.

you jumped and stepped away from him, thinking he was just a weirdo messing with you.

you could sense the guy staring at you so you turned your head to him. "you need something?" you ask him, to which he shakes his head slowly.

you nod and look away, but turning back when you see that nothing was attaching his head to his body, also now noticing the huge scary stick with a cresent moon on it.

your eyes widen and your breath hitches, as soon as the elevator hit your floor, you get off and speed walk to your apartment. unlocking the door took 4 tries, but that's only because you just saw some sort of demon.

your breath quickens as you finally open the door and slam it shut behind you and lock it.

you lean back against the door and listen for anything, and after a couple minutes of that, you got up and threw your bag on the couch and took of your shoes.

~~~

it had been about an hour since you got home, and you were hungry so you got up off your bed after pausing your favorite show on your phone to go to the kitchen, tossing your phone on your bed.

when you stepped into the kitchen area, you got out y/f/f and y/f/d, only to hear a knock at your door.

you stiffen up and feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. turning you head to the door, you curse yourself for scratching out the peephole since you were paranoid that someone could see you from the other side.

even though you've tried to look through it and didn't see anything.

you slowly get a wooden bat from near the door, holding it so whoever was out there couldn't see it. putting on a brave face, you open the door to see just a normal man.

he had short wavy dark hair, he also had a smile on his face as he waved at you.

"'ello there." he greeted, you loosening your grip on your bat a little as you smile back.

"hey, can i help you?" you ask him. he nods and runs a hand through his hair.

"actually, id just like to introduce myself." he starts with his british accent. "im steven. uhm- steven grant, i live a couple doors down and i realized i know all my neighbors except you." he explains, using hand gestures while he speaks

"well, my names y/n. do you need anything else?" you ask as nicely as you can, starting to feel intimidated by the taller man.

he darts his eyes to your shiny door knob for a split second.

"uh- well, I-"

"ok cool, goodbye." you cut him off starting to shut your door when you see steven shake his head like a dog then stop the door with his hand, glaring at you all of a sudden.

you furrow your brows at this, and tighten your grip on the bat as you try and push the door closed when the man pushed it open, almost making you fall backwards, him immediately slamming it back closed after.

you hurry and swing your bat at the man, but he catches it in his hands before it could hit him. he yanks it from your grip and tosses it aside.

your breathing quickens, and you back away from him, looking around the room for anything to help you when you spot a vase you found at a thrift store.

'oh well, it was only 2 dollars..'

you pick it up and chuck it at the man who was getting closer to you, only for him to block it with his arm, still breaking and cutting his arm.

he looked offended, and looked at the small cut it made, before turning to you who starts running towards your room, hearing him chasing after you.

you of course, a 16 year old girl, is slower than an adult man so he catches up before you get halfway to your room.

he yanks on the back of your shirt and pulls you to him so that he has an arm wrapped around your flailing arms to keep them still and a hand covering your mouth to prevent you from screaming.

"calm down, kid." he orders, his british accent gone and turned into an american one, making you confused.

you try to kick him which results in him tightening his hold on you as a warning.

he takes a breath, you feel him shake his head from behind you. "you done? i just gotta ask you something" he tells you in a cocky tone.

"are you gonna be quiet?" he asks you, and when you nod frantically he takes the hand off your mouth and moves it to hold you better to not risk you running off.

you take a couple shaky breaths. "good." he starts. "now, are you one of them?" this made you confused more than anything.

"o-one of what?" you ask him quietly. you hear him scoff.

"don't play dumb with me, kid." he starts. "you know what? let me just see your arms." which made you even more confused.

before you could say anything, he turns you around and lifts up your sleeves and looks both your arms over before letting go and running a hand through his hair in defeat.

you back up as soon as he turned around to pace about your apartment. you stand there awkwardly, watching this stranger pace around and and start yelling at anything with a reflective surface.

"yes, i know she could see him!" you hear him yelling into a mirror you had hanging on one of your walls, the thing that made your stomach twist was the fact that the reflection wasnt matching the person.

"oh my god..-" you mutter to yourself, going to go sit on your couch, far enough away from 'steven', but close enough to make sure he doesn't do anything.

"no! you cant have control, i need to know why she-"

"marc" the man in the mirror makes eye contact with you and points in your direction.

he whips his head around at you and walks over to you, putting an arm on each side of you, caging you in between him and the couch you wish you could lean back more in.

"how are you doing that?" he asks lowly. you don't answer, which makes him mad.

he slams a hand down, making you jump. "i asked you a question and i expect an answer." he begins. "are you trying to unleash ammit again? huh? maybe a friend of harrow trying to get revenge?" he lists off making you tilt your head in confusion.

"what the fuck are you talking about?" you gain confidence, which makes the man furrowed his brows at you.

"you don't- shut up steven" he looks to the mirror, to which you look as well.

the guy in the mirror sees that you're looking at him, so he turns to you. "you can hear me, can't you? see me too?" he asks rhetorically. you nod slowly and take a deep breath.

the man in the mirror was the man at the door, but the guy who pushed his way in? you had no clue.

"marc, please let me talk to her properly!" he turns back to the guy still hovering over you. "you're scaring her!" he pleads, which makes the guy above you roll his eyes.

he jumps up and shakes his head again, this time looking back at you with a small smile.

"so. i take it you've met marc, eh?" he asks, sitting next to you instead of threatening you, yet you still lean back.

"what?" you are completely clueless.

"listen, i'll explain the best i can, is that alright?" he asks you carefully, and you nod.

"right! so i'm steven" he gestures to himself. "and that's marc" he points to the mirror, to see 'marc' shaking his head. "we are two people that live in the same body, do you get it?" he asks you, and you nod again.

"so it was y/n right?" another nod. "thats a nice name, i'm so sorry about marc by the way." he apologizes for marc.

you just stare at steven in shock, not knowing what to say. "whats ammit?" you eventually speak up, making steven hum in thought. "and all those other things he was talking about" you question.

steven chuckles breathily, and claps his hands together lightly. "well, marc would be better at explaining it than me, plus its getting late and i-"

"let me out steven"

"no"

you look between the two arguing, and smile slightly. "steven i wont hurt her just let me out. just for a minute." marc argues from the mirror.

steven sighs and rubs his hands down his face and looks to you. "is it alright if marc comes out for a minute?" he asks you, to which you hesitantly nod.

and another head shake later, a more stern expression takes over the once friendly face, signalling marc was back.

he smirks at you and helps you up by your hands all of a sudden, making you gasp.

"hey, kid i'm not gonna hurt ya, just let me show you something" he chuckles to himself.

"what are you-" before you can finish your sentence, he turn you around, back pressed against his chest and him holding your shoulders to keep you from moving too much.

you hear him chuckle again, moving you so that you're facing an open space in your home. you become confused again at why marc thought this was funny.

"khonshu" marc says as he tightens his grip on your shoulders.

you were about to just walk away when the bird demon phases through the wall, and starts walking towards you and marc.

your eyes widen and you try to get away from it, but marc prevented that and began walking you closer to the extremely tall bird, you still trying to get marc off you.

"nO-" you start to yell curses at the man holding you, hes just forcing you towards the bird with a smile on his face.

"so the little mortal can see me" a voice comes from the birds direction.

you stare up at the skeletal head which is tilted curiously in your direction, you frozen not knowing what to do.

"careful y/n, he can smell fear" marc whispers in your ear, making you jump and turn your head to him. he had taken his hands off you, just hovering behind you to block you from running.

"marc stop it! y/n! he cant smell fear he's just a dumb pigeon" you hear steven from the mirror.

"i chose the wrong day to get suspended." you mumble to yourself.

the death pigeon takes a small step closer to you, and you cant help but panic so you take you best shot and punch the bony beak as hard as you can.

your hand feels like its on fire as you hold it to your chest. the bird has turned away holding its beak and marc was staring at you in shock from behind you.

"oH MY GOD!" you shout. "i'm so sorry i-i didn't-"

you get cut off by marc laughing behind you, turning around you glare at him.

he sighs and shakes his head. "aw man, you got spunk, kid." he tells you. clutching you hand to your chest you turn back around to the bird, whos looking at you.

"'m sorry" you apologize to him. he grunts and looks to marc.

"can we keep it?" he asks marc, but stevens the one to answer from the mirror.

"shes not an 'it', khonshu."

"can it, worm"

"oh, i get it now" you say, all heads turning to you. "this isn't real" you deadpan. "i'm dreaming again" you try to convince yourself.

"what?" marc asks confused, giving you a look.

"mhmm. what time is it?" you frantically look around.

"its 8:12" steven says from the mirror making your eyes widen. "shit"

you speed walk to your bathroom to retrieve an orange pill bottle before taking two out and swallowing them dry in the middle of your living room.

the three just looking at you in confusion. "whats that for?" steven asks.

"look for yourself." you toss the bottle to marc, a rattling echoes through the room as you shuffle through your kitchen for some new food.

marc wanders into the kitchen area, khonshu looking at all the random stuff you had laying around. "you're schizophrenic?" he asks you, making you turn to him.

"no, they gave me the wrong bottle." you answer sarcastically, marc giving you a look. "yeah. its pretty severe and its probably why i can see your.. weird friend." you gesture to khonshu, whos poking the ceiling with his moon stick.

marc sighs. "if its so bad that you can see an egyptian god then how come your parents dont do anything about it?" he asks kind of rudely.

you look up at him and snatch your pills back from his hand. "i live alone. i dont know where my parents are." you say truthfully, the sympathetic look on marcs face being unseen as you turn back around to put the bottle on the counter.

"listen kid, you cant tell anyone about this alright?" marc gestures to everything around him. you shrug.

"whatever" you mutter, forgetting about the food and moving to pick up the broken pieces of the vase that are scattered across the floor.

you gather the jagged piece of dried clay and throw them away, ignoring the stares from the three beings in the room.

sitting down again on the couch, you put your head in your hands for a second before running them down your face and leaning back, staring at the wall as you feel the couch dip from beside you.

theres a quiet sigh. "would it be innapropriate to invite you over for supper?" thats stevens voice again. you look to him and shrug again. "is this an elaborate sceme to murder me?" you ask him seriously.

you see him internally panic. "oH- nononononono- i just noticed you didnt have much in your cupboards, thats all" he confesses, and you look over to your open cabinets and notice that you do in fact, have barely any food.

you crack your neck and nod to yourself. “only if you elaborate on all of.. this." you gesture to the murder bird and marc in the reflection of the mirror.

steven nods and smiles to you. "of course" he agrees and helps you up, leaving your apartment to go over to the messy one a few doors down.

that night you made a couple weird friends. they got even weirder after steven and marc took turns explaining how exactly they got into their situation.

and khonshu was giving you advice on how to kill your parents if you ever met them. he claimed that they 'were not worthy' and that you needed to break their windpipes.

you just assumed that it was because somebody other than marc and 'the worm' could see him.

but either way, its wasn't a bad day after all

~~~

A/N : okay this took longer than i wanted it to smh. hope you like it and i'm already thinking about turning this into a mini series.

if it gets enough likes i will bc i have ideas but it would also help if i got some requests for the next one??

either way, thanks for reading.

#moon knight #moon night #steven #marc spector #steven grant #marc #khonshu #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel x teen!reader #marvel x platonic reader #x reader #reader insert #teen reader #moonknight fic #steven with a v #mcu moon knight #moon knight series #moonknight series #moonknight mcu

[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

#marc spector x teen!reader #moon knight #hispanic reader #steven grant x teen!reader #marc spector #platonic #steven grant #marc spector x reader #platonic love #layla x teen!reader #x reader #x teen!reader #marvel #moon knight x teen!reader #steven grant x reader #khonshu #latina reader

[sofiaaaaaaaa03]

Homecoming

Title: Homecoming

Part 8 of Scribe of the Gods Series: Epilogue Pt. 1

Pairing: Steven grant x gn reader (platonic), Marc spector x gn reader (platonic)

Rating: PG

Word Count: 6k

Description: Many months after the attack of Cairo, Marc and Steven have done their best to return to normalcy. While doing so, they await for the return of the Scribe, who had been away during this time to help the Ennead return to its former state. Finally, the scribe is able to return home, with much to discuss.

A/N: .... HI.

It has been... far too long. This was long overdue, and I want to say thank you to those who have been patient. It means so much to me that you all were so willing to wait while I was away, a lot has happened but I genuinely did not want to leave this unfinished. I felt like I had to finish the story. Originally, I wanted to have one single chapter for the epilogue, but I decided that I should split it up as a thank you to those who were patient. I hope you all enjoy, I'm incredibly rusty and i didn't go back to edit this because i just wanted this out so you guys know what i've had collecting dust for the last few months. 100000 percent promise that i plan to and will most likely go back and edit this, but I really couldn't wait to throw this out there. Love you all. RAHHHHHH

London library has felt more empty in the last six months now that it has one less presence. Taking the weekly trips to the library just wasn’t what it used to be for Steven, who often took the trip to rotate his book cycles for his nightly readings. Now that y/n had gone off to all ends of the earth on behalf of the Ennead, there was no one to carry the same conversations the unlikely duo had prior. Steven didn’t blame y/n or feel any ill towards them leaving him and Marc and the life they had in London. In fact all he had was pride for them. They had a big job to accomplish, judging from everything they’d told him with all of the letters they’d sent to his and Marc’s flat. Writings on postcards that served as a reminder that the scribe thought of them, that they were still around in his life.

Despite their loud absence, Steven still kept the habit of visiting the library, but not under the same urgency as before now that he was no longer as afraid of wandering about under the night sky as he was before. His relationship with Marc had finally found balance. The man no longer stayed awake at night , fearful of ending up in obscure places. Marc promised Steven that now that they were no longer serving Khonshu there was no more reason for him to leave the apartment during the night to go on missions. Steven was relieved to find this out, as it meant that he was able to put himself to ease during the night, and now he got to read for his own pleasure rather than a desperate attempt to remain awake. 

Not only that, but Steven managed to get a job at the museum- thanks to Marc’s help- as a tour guide. He needed to refresh his knowledge of Egyptology and the library had a large selection of books for him to choose from. 

Steven thanked the librarian, a rather stern sort of woman who liked to drone on and on about herbs, picking up his books with a little polite nod, and made his way out towards the exit. He paused a few steps in, looking back at the desk once more with memories of the conversations he and y/n had floating in his head.

He gave a sigh. Thank goodness they were coming back soon.

He couldn’t wait.

One last look and he made his way out of the door and into the London streets.

—----

It’s been too long since y/n stepped foot in the London Library. Six months. Give or take. They’d stopped bothering to keep track after the numerous tasks they’d completed on behalf of the Ennead. For whatever it’s worth, the six months were filled to the brim with ensuring the gods’ work in the mortal realm ran smoothly. 

The first few weeks were the worst of it. When the temple had just fallen and all the avatars had died there was nothing short of utter chaos. All of the gods were adamant for y/n’s help, insecure that they no longer had a human vessel to be able to oversee their work; they insisted that they were the first to receive the young thing’s assistance. Y/n did what they could to assist the individual gods, trying to tend to their needs in a matter of urgency rather than agreeing to any given moment.

They had to be firm about their servitude, Osiris told them after a meeting gone poorly- one of the gods had complained over y/n’s unavailability to help their request. But Osiris vouched for y/n and reprimanded the god for expecting y/n to waiting for a job to simply be handed to them, they were a human child, Horus. Where are your children now that we are all scrambling to get back on our feet?- they need to be mindful that the gods can forget themselves in their place of power. The god told the human scribe that as they continued their service and aid the gods, they had to prioritize what work needed to be accomplished. If a god came to them with a mundane task that could wait, y/n was allowed, even encouraged, to tell the god that the job will be done later. 

“If they have a problem with it, tell them that they can come discuss it with me.” Osiris would tell them this time and time again. He wanted to make certain that the scribe didn’t overwork themselves or felt the need to always say yes. And y/n took this advice, and had to use it many times, but they were grateful to have a god look out for them the way Osiris did.  

While the gods were generous enough to allow y/n an opportunity to work outside of the library, the only issue that came from this  was that y/n had no reliable place to stay. On normal accounts, before the collapse of the Ennead and their temple due to the demise of Ammit, they were able to rest between councils within the chambers of the temple. They’d find a little corner far enough where no one could disturb them and catch up on sleep while the avatars drank and caught each other up in their lives outside of ceremonial duties. 

Such was not the case anymore. All that resides in the chambers now are the ghosts of the avatars and the destruction of Ammit. Neither suitable company for the scribe to stay as they worked for the gods.

Despite all the time that'd passed, the chambers still suffered from Ammit’s destruction. Not as badly as before as every now and then y/n would lift random debris out of the way as a way to pass time, but even they didn’t have the technical skills to completely reform the chambers to what it once was. 

But six months had passed since the events of Cairo. Why was it that the pyramids and the realm of the ennead was yet to be restored? One day, amidst the gods after completing several tasks for them, the scribe inquired about this as they sat on a loose stone. Horus, in all his questionable glory, answered to the scribe. Without proper avatars, the gods had no ability to fix the destruction as they lacked a physical form. They needed humans.

Y/n thought that was bullshit, if they were being honest. They were literal gods. Why did they need an avatar’s body to be able to fix the chambers? Couldn’t a simple snap make it all better?

Whatever. It was not their place to question the gods, despite their obscurities and lack of explanations. Eventually, the chambers’ reconstruction finally started. It took longer than it should have when very few followers came for the call of Horus to aid in reconstruction, but progress was still being made. 

So, with construction happening at the temple it meant that y/n was unable to reside in the rubble of the chambers anymore. Instead, they spent their off hours in between hotel rooms and air bnbs. They didn’t mind it though, they finally had a proper bed and had a decent meal that consisted of something other than the Molokhia the gods had given them for the last six months. But really, to y/n, anywhere was better compared to staying in the london library. 

There was no point renting an apartment space when the gods started to send them to the ends of the earth for all sorts of missions. Whether it be recruiting a potential candidate for one of the gods, or scavenging artifacts stolen from the temple, the scribe had more on their plate than they’d anticipated and had no time to settle in one place for very long. They didn’t complain. The gods gave them the means to pay for living arrangements and for meals, and the pay was better than the one they received from working for the library. 

Six months. Six months was a long time, now that they thought about it. 

Thank the gods they were finally able to go home now. 

—-----

Now that they thought about it, the first time y/n had been to Steven and Marc’s apartment they weren’t even invited in. Should they knock? 

They stood in front of the door, but weren't sure how Steven and Marc would react to them suddenly showing up the day before they were supposed to. The two men were expecting y/n to show up the next day. They’d even insisted on picking them up at the airport and going out for lunch. Well, that was the original plan. Until the gods had decided to let y/n leave earlier out of gratitude and granted them a portal to anywhere they desired, it was only natural that they decided to end up at the front steps of the system’s apartment. A little surprise visit doesn’t hurt anyone, right? 

The scribe straightened up, realizing they’d spent too long standing idle at the door and needed to make a move. They raised their fist and rapped on the door several times. And when no one answered they waited a few more moments before knocking once more. 

Hm. No one was home. y/n uncomfortable shifted in place, waiting a little longer to make sure that no one was actually home before they began deciding their next move. Should they stay in place and wait for the men to come home? Would that be too awkward? Having the men walk into their apartment floor and find the young adult sitting on the space next to their door? Would it just be better to leave altogether and try to come back later? What if they miss the men again? They could always go, but the question is where? It’s not like they have a place to stay nor anywhere that seemed decent enough to crash, and-

“y/n?”

The voice from across the hall snapped y/n out of their thoughts almost immediately. Steven, in all his glory, stood at the space of the elevator that’d just opened. He stared at the scribe as though he’d unable to perceive that they were actually there. 

y/n faltered a moment, unexpected at the sight of the man faster than they were anticipating, and gave Steven a small smile, a little embarrassed that at the end of it they did just loiter in steven’s space like they didn’t want to.

“Hey, Steven.” They greeted him warmly. 

The gift-shopist turned tour-guide seemed to stumble in his words as an incoherent string of words fell numb to y/n’s ears. They tried to give him an encouraging smile, walking to steven’s space in the elevator as he remained frozen in place. Too frozen, in fact, as the door of the elevator began to shut with him still inside. 

“Uh, the door-” y/n jumped in their place, arm outstretched for the door though the gift shopist stuck their arm through in time to alert the motion detector. The doors stretched open as did Steven’s arms as he took y/n in for a big hug, which they happily reciprocated. It was the kind of hug where they teetered in place very slowly, taking in each other’s presence after months of being apart, 

“What’re you doing here so early?” Steven asked between breathy chuckles, slowly  pulling y/n away from him, they took a good look at the man and realized he’d sported a light stubble. “Ain’t we’s supposed to pick you up tomorrow?”

The scribe gave them a warm smile. “The Ennead let me go early!”

“Hmm. Are you sure it was ‘cause they couldn’t wait to get rid of you.” y/n didn’t miss the sly smirk steven sported.

“Shut up.” They retorted, lightly pushed Steven’s shoulders. “Just be happy I wanted to come back.”

The gift shopist grabbed at his shoulder and glanced at the doorstop, “Is that all you’ve brought with ye? Let me help you.” He of course was referring to the two duffel bags of y/n’s personal belongings that sat at his doorstep. For six months they’d lived off of everything in the bags and it was painfully obvious from the wear and tear of the bags themselves. Before they could insist that they could carry the items Steven already had his hands on the bags and was looking through his keys for his front door. 

The door flew right open in a matter of moments and Steven stepped to the side, grinning at the scribe as he gestured for them to go ahead. 

“Right, come on in. Make yourself at home”

—------

No matter how many times they’d reassured Steven that really, they didn’t mind, Steven profusely apologized for the state of his apartment. He droned for a few moments stating that with his new job he’d not had the time to tidy up nor did Marc want to clean after Steven, (“He says I’m in charge of cleaning up my own mess. The nerve of ‘him, talkin’ to me like I’m a child!”) all the while y/n paid little mind and allowed their eyes to wander. Yes, they’d been in the apartment once, but that was many months ago. And it wasn’t like they had the time to take it in back then. Back then, when they were observing Marc and Steven from afar under the orders of a concerned Djehuty. They hummed to themselves, remembering the late nights sitting atop of Marc’s rooftop while listening for any sign of disturbances that could happen to the men. 

Y/n sighed deeply, eyes wandering to the window they used to sit by. It wasn’t that long ago. Look how things have changed. 

From where they sat nestled in a quaint green armchair, y/n felt like they were back in the London Library. Nestled amongst an alarming number of books, manuscripts, a tombstone of forests and papetry. Every nook and cranny of the apartment was filled with paper. All that was missing from the library was the occasional bun-wearing, shushing librarians and underpaid security guards. 

“Did you read all of these?” y/n picked up a loose book resting close to them, lifting the cover to their sight.

Steven responded from his kitchenette, fiddling with three assorted mugs as he kept himself busy making something to drink for the two. “Yeah, more or less.” 

“Huh,” y/n lowered the book, smoothing their fingers across the cover as they glanced again at the books around them. “With all of these books there’s not much use going to the library. You have your own here.”

Steven walked over to the scribe and offered out their drink to them. “ I make a habit of buying books I like after reading them borrowed ones. Keep ‘em here like little trophies, yknow.”

“Oh, you’re one of those people.”

“Yes, I’m one of those people, but at least we’re a reason why you have a job at the library.”

They didn’t miss the amusing smirk that Steven shot their way as he plopped himself into his seat at the armchair opposite of theirs, not before settingy/n’s designated cup on the table in front of them. He took a swing from his own and a silence fell between the two. Doing their best to ignore it, y/n took another moment to discern the gift shopist’s apartment.

Steven must’ve noticed them observing the fish tank that stood loudly in the middle of the apartment, as he shifted in his seat and gestured to the papers that decorated the glass pane. All held up by magnets and were numerous by the numbers. y/n had barely noticed them with their admiration of the two fishes that swam inside. “We kept all your letters. Marc thought putting them up close to the water was a bad idea but I’s quite like them there.”

“Oh,” y/n let out a small smile at this, struck with warmth that the system liked the letters enough to put them up. Like drawings on a fridge. “I didn’t think you’d do that.”

“Of course we would. Marc wanted to know what you were up to, and liked to keep note of where you’s been since you had to be secretive about it.” Steven beamed proudly, standing up to approach the fishtank. 

“It was a necessary sacrifice,” y/n spoke, leaning over to grab their drink that Steven had prepared for them. “This was the best way I could keep in touch.”

During their time in the ennead, y/n was unable to communicate to marc and steven very often. Communication through modern devices were limited due to risks of tracing and exposing their location from those with malintentions. To help their friends know that they were still alive and well, the young avatar developed a habit of sending postcards to the system from locations they were sent to during a mission. Most of them were written with the generic, “I’m having fun’s” and “Wish you were here’s” to maintain obscurity, but y/n never missed a chance to send them so that Marc and Steven could figure out their last whereabouts from where the postcard originated from, and be relieved by the very fact that they were still alive and well. 

 “Wells,” Steven hummed to himself, turning to give the avatar a small smile as he returned to his seat. He had collected several postcards from the fishtank and waved them in the air before dropping them onto the table. Y/n watches the postcards splatter across the table, recognizing the images on the postcards from places they went to during their trip. “You have to tell us about your trips.” 

And so the scribe told Steven about their life the last six months. Giving an explanation to why they were so absent outside of handwritten letters. As they spoke Steven gave them all of his attention, sitting at the edge of his seat, forearms rested on his knees as he leaned in to every word they spoke. They made sure to speak in great detail as they continued, knowing that the gift shopist had waited a long time to be able to hear their experience firsthand. Marc finally made an appearance to make his own comments. Immediately y/n was ecstatic to hear from the marine and they began to catch up amongst themselves like they did with Steven minutes prior. By the time they were finished their mugs were empty and the sun had set.

“They had me go out and find the avatars,” y/n continued telling their story to Marc, pulling out a map from one of their bags and displaying it onto the coffee table. Marc leaned over, eying the jumbled scribbles written all over the world, marked with locations and field notes from your travels. “The gods, they chose their patrons from different parts of the world, Marc. I-I mean, I had to go to the most obscure places, finding these people, I even ended up in Jersey City, of all places looking out for this one girl-”

Marc closed the front door as he watched y/n run to their bag for the map, carrying takeout from a Vietnamese restaurant down the road. At some point during their conversation he proposed that they went to get some food. He chuckled at y/n’s demeanor now that they finally got to take out the map that they said they wanted to show him, gushing over their trips. 

“The Jackals are from Jersey,” Marc sat himself back in the chair, opening up the bag and placing their food onto the table. He lifted up a box, opening it up to make sure that he didn’t get the food switched, “My old man took me to one of their games back when I was a kid.”

He frowned at his food, eyeing the noodles. Steven began looking around the table before reaching his hand back into the bag, shuffling through napkins. “Bollocks, I think they’ve forgot my peppers.” 

“They’re here,” y/n took a small container of peppers from their side of the table and handed it over to Steven, eyes still trained on the marked locations of the map. He gave them an appreciative smile, humming as he opened up the container and poured its contents over the steaming bun bo hue he’d ordered.

He took a large bite of his food as he leaned over to take in the map displayed before him, trying to make sense of the scribbles. “Did you find all of them?”

Y/n nodded, finally reaching to grab their food. They couldn’t help but smile in content at the food when they flipped the box open. “I did. Finding them was the easy part. A lot of them were still distraught and panicked over the fact that the gods were real. One guy was so convinced that someone snuck him drugs and he was having a really bad trip. Other people took the whole thing really well, but a majority of them needed as much help as they could get from assimilating to the concept that an Egyptian god chose them as their patron.”

Marc nodded knowingly at them, “Not everybody is okay with the whole ‘gods are real’ schtick.” 

The scribe stopped looking over their map to gaze at Marc. They hesitated for a moment. It had been a really long time since they’d seen Marc, they realized now that they really had no idea of how he’s been since the attack on Cairo, whether the attack had left him with any mental troubles or injury now that Khonshu’s power was no longer there to speed up his body’s natural healing process. On the topic, y/n was greatly concerned on how Marc and Steven had been handling themselves now that they were no longer indebted to Khonshu. 

Y/n hesitated a moment as they observed Marc, who was keeping himself occupied with his meal now that there was a bit of silence to dwell in. 

Finally, they spoke. They were sure that Marc could be able to hear the hesitence in their voice, but it was too late to stop now. 

“So, how have you been? Like, with Khonshu and everything.” 

Marc said nothing for a moment. Finally, he deeply sighed. He kept his eyes trained on his soup, picking at the noodles with his utensils as he slowly spoke. “I feel much better, I would say”

“Yeah?” Y/n responded. They reached for a napkin laying on the table. 

Marc nodded. He shifted himself to lean forward more on his knees. “Like, you know how we were pretty much forced to serve Khonshu? Well, now that that’s over with, I feel like I can do whatever I want now,” He let out a sort of dry chuckle, seemingly pondering over his own words. “Like, I never understood how limited our life actually was… it feels really… open now, do you understand that?”

He continued, not waiting for the scribe’s response, a look of content written on his face. “Honestly, I feel good about it.”

Marc didn’t sound like he had any doubt about his decision to end the system’s relationship with Khonshu. When he spoke, he sounded so sure of himself and where he was currently, trying to return to normalcy after Cairo. Well, as normal as it can get for people like them, y/n reminded themselves. There was no way that either of their lives would ever be the same. They were forever thrusted into the world of the gods, and even though Marc and Steven had chosen to retire that life, y/n knew very well that they were still a pawn waiting to be used in the eyes of the gods. They just hoped that that would never be the case. For Marc and Steven’s sake, they deserved to have their retirement be undisturbed. 

“That’s,” y/n began, trying to find the courage to speak after realizing they’d remained silent a little too long. They blinked several times. “That’s great. That’s really great. I’m happy for you two.”

Steven beamed at them, shifting in his seat after putting his meal back on the table. “Ye, it is really. I’s been real nice not havin’ any more trouble at work because of that nasty old crow.”

“He caused you both more harm than good,” The scribe nodded knowingly at Steven’s words. 

Steven swallowed another portion of his soup, rubbing off the droplets that trailed from his lips. He cleared his throat, but y/n’s attention was fixated on the napkin he’d dropped on the table. He didn’t wait for the scribe to acknowledge him, but they were able to hear the way he was trying to tread lightly as he spoke.

“Speakin’ of the gods,” He began slowly, waiting a moment to make sure that y/n had nothing to say before he continued, “now that you’re done workin’ for the Ennead, have you put any thought to what you’re going to do with Djehuty?”

It was obvious that this question came to y/n as a surprise when they jolted at the mention of the god. Steven hummed anxiously and raised his hands toward the scribe, profusely apologizing for bringing up the god in question.

“No, no it’s fine,” y/n raised a hand to reassure Steven. “It’s just, it’s the last thing I want to think about right now. Djehuty hasn’t approached me since I first started working for the Ennead, and everyday since then it’s been this waiting game of when he’ll actually show up again. I’m a little on edge, I guess.”

“You still don’t want to see him?” Marc stood up. He stretched his arms into the air briefly before throwing them down again, observing the contents on the table. By this time, all of their food had been finished save for the spring rolls they’d decided to split together. There was one left that sat there for a lot longer than it should have, neither y/n nor marc wanted to be the person to take it out of courtesy. 

“No,” y/n glanced up at Marc. He stood over the scribe with the spring roll offered out to them, they gave him a brief monotonous look before accepting the spring roll from him. They inspected it before taking a small bite. They hummed, scanning the table for peanut butter sauce while Marc began clearing the plates away. 

“Why is it you don’t want to see Djehuty, again?” The utensils clinked in Marc’s hands as he gathered up what he could, swiping his finger into the peanut butter sauce as y/n grabbed the container. He raised it to his mouth to taste and made his way to the kitchenette to dispose the takeout boxes. 

“ ‘cause most likely he’s going to ask me to be his avatar again,” y/n states after swallowing from their bite. The scribe took another bite of the roll, gathering their own mess of napkins and peanut butter sauce and making their way to where Marc was in the kitchen. They spared him a glance as they approached. He had this look on his face that told them that he was choosing his next words carefully. 

They opened Steven’s fridge, eying for a spot before placing the peanut butter sauce somewhere for Steven to taste later. Marc reached for his drink from the countertop, “And what would your response be?”

There’s a pause. And Marc is observing y/n with a look on his face that made them feel like they were being read like an open book. 

y/n straightened themselves up, slowly closing the fridge door to look at Marc with skepticism in their eyes. They had yet to say anything to the ex-marine, but they didn’t have to when the look that they gave him told him that he was pushing a nerve with them. But 

“You’re talking to a guy who’s well-versed in this whole avatar schtick,” He crossed his arms, leaning his weight against the kitchen counter. The man gazed at y/n with a look, “I know coping mechanisms when I see one. Instead of facing Djehuty head-on, you decided to play it safe and hide behind Ennead, but now that you’ve ditched that strategy, you’re still avoiding Djehuty even though you’re technically still his avatar. I just want to know why exactly it is you’re doing that, that’s all.”

y/n turned away from Marc, uncomfortable at the pressing question he’d asked them. They tapped their fingers against their upper thighs in an attempt to dispel the anxiety growing inside of them.

“Its just that,” they began slowly, articulating the feelings they had kept to themselves for so long into words as they spoke. They hadn’t thought that they would share this with anyone this soon, let alone the System. “if I wasn’t his avatar… then what would I even be? I can’t even imagine what I would become. It’s all I've ever known. It’s the reason I’m alive.”

“Well, yeah, its why you were alive the first time.” Marc countered plainly, a resting his face onto his open palm as he had his weight on his knees.  He didn’t miss the glare that y/n had shot him. They didn’t like to be reminded of the whole situation they’d had with Djehuty in the Duat. Although Marc did his best to respect it there were times where he wasn’t shy to tell them how it was. It struck a nerve with them every time he did so. 

“Yeah, cause who wouldn’t want their entire existence defined by being a puppet for an ancient deity. At least I wasn’t dumb enough to be manipulated into it.” 

Marc blinked at y/n’s words. He leaned back slightly, eyes fixated on the scribe as they snapped at him with a hostile air to them. He was unable to see their face as they had turned their head away from him, but he knew deep down that their outburst at him was simply a defense mechanism, a way of protecting themselves from the blunt remarks and sudden pressure to answer questions he’d put them under without warning. Marc didn’t blame them for lashing out in such a way, he probably would have done the same too if he was in their position. 

Slowly, Marc sighed from behind y/n. They could hear the slow movements he made behind him as he made his way to refill his water from the sink. They sighed, pushing their hands to their face and wiping it across their eyes. They’d forgotten themselves in that moment, and felt guilty at how they responded to Marc’s questions, he was kind enough to invite them to food and there was too much time that had passed between the two to snap at him, even if it was through a joking manner. 

“Look, Marc-”

“No, I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. I’m sorry for pushing your buttons.” Marc stood by the scribe, clamping a firm hand onto their shoulder. He had faced them now, carrying a water in his hand as he offered them a small nod, acknowledging his words. He extended the glass in his hands towards them, waiting for them to take the cup from his hands before patting his open palms onto the pockets of his pants. He seemed to be looking for something as his eyes searched the room. 

“You know what? It’s been a long day, I’m sure you’re tired after all that traveling.”

“I literally went through a portal,” Y/n couldn’t help but smile at the marine with an incredulous look on their face. 

“Well you’re still in Egypt, aren’t you?” Steven mused, raising his eyebrows at the young thing. y/n rolled their eyes at Steven's whit. “It’s a whole two hours difference. What is it… it’s midnight for you, right, let’s get you ready.” y/n groaned at the statement. They weren’t tired at all from their journey. Steven was only using that as an excuse to go to bed early. They knew that he and Marc, despite being in their late 30s, were really just old men who slept for more than they should. 

“You can take the bed tonight, y/n. I’ll set up the couch for myself-ah.” Marc raised a hand to them with a firm voice telling them that there was no room for arguing. “You’re taking the bed. Tomorrow we can regroup and have more time to figure out what we’ll do now that you’re here.”

Marc left their side with one more pat before he approached a cabinet on the far side of the room. He opened it and pulled out a few blankets and a pillow before making his way to the couch. y/n observed the marine from their place in the kitchen, not daring to move until they were certain that the man was not at all disturbed by their presence. They kept watch as he made a hmph, releasing the noise while plopping himself across the couch with a blanket over him and a book in his hands.

The scribe, still unwilling to move from their place, observed the marine for a little bit longe, hoping to find reassurance that he held no grudge against them for their earlier attitude. They watched closely, but neither Marc nor Steven showed any visible signs of resentment. Instead, Steven gave them one last look, offering a genuine "goodnight" before settling down with his book.

Filled with a mix of relief and lingering guilt over their behavior, y/n glanced between the man in the couch and the bed they'd offered to him. They looked back at Steven, and after a few moments realized that they were fully staring at the man who had clearly told them goodnight. Slowly, they walked past the couch and took a peek into Steven and Marc's designated sleeping spot in their open apartment. Not to the scribe's surprise, their bed was surrounded by mountains of books that Steven had collected. Despite the overwhelming number of books it all seemed to be a sort of organized mess that only Steven could understand.

The scribe took their bags from the floor beside the couch where Steven read their book and took out some pajamas and bathroom bag. They made sure to stay quiet while they went to change and prepare for bed, scared that if they made too much noise, they would bother Steven. In the bathroom, they pulled out a shirt that read "I survived my trip to NYC," a memento they bought from a subway giftshop during a recon mission on behalf of Horus. Slipping the shirt over their head, y/n caught their reflection in the mirror.

Staring at themselves, they recognized their own face staring back at them, but a nagging sense of detachment washed over the scribe. The conversation Marc tried to have with them minutes before was fresh on their mind. They stared at themselves in the mirror, eyes flickering between one another as they tried to discern what exactly it was, they were feeling.

y/n raised their hands to grab onto the fabric of their shirt, looking down at the words as they rubbed their fingers across the fabric. Suddenly, the shirt's message seemed to mock them. The only reason they were able to get this shirt was because of their work for the Egyptian deities. In this life that they'd lived, they'd accomplished so much. They'd made a name for themselves amongst the gods and had earned their respect, but even that didn't outweigh the dangers and mental exhaustion that came with being an avatar.

But it was all that they'd ever known. This life. The life of servitude for the Egyptian gods. y/n had confidence that if they were to continue their involvement in the affairs of the gods, including Djehuty, the scribe had no doubt that they would thrive.

But was that really what they wanted? y/n slowly let go of their grip on their t-shirt, raising their hands to their face as they observed themselves in the mirror.

This was something that the scribe had contemplated since the first day they began working on behalf of the ennead. They agreed to help the gods reform the Ennead so that when it came down to it, they could go to the gods and ask them to return the favor out of the kindness that they may be able to show to an avatar that dedicated so much time to them.

The scribe had enough of staring at themselves in the mirror, hoping to pick up their toothbrush and toothpaste. They poured a dollop of paste to their brush, raising the toothbrush to their mouth, leaning over the sink to brush their teeth.

On the other hand, they pondered while brushing, there was the very big resentment towards Djehuty that held them back from being so willing to work for him again. Djehuty, who had betrayed their trust long ago by revealing that he'd stolen their soul without disclosure. They found it extremely difficult to fully trust that old bird, fearful of being deceived again.

But... despite their reservations, y/n grappled with the uncertainty of letting go. Being an avatar and serving the gods had become their identity, their purpose. It was all they had ever known, and the thought of severing that connection to become a normal human filled them with uncertainty of what their human life would hold in store for them.

Could they even do it?

If they were being honest, y/n was very jealous of Marc and Steven. The men seemed to have severed their connection with Khonshu so easily. They barely even hesitated. Now the men were building a life of their own, getting jobs, healing.

The young avatar spat out into the sink, cleaning any paste that covered their mouth before finally leaving the bathroom. They entered into the dimly lit apartment, slowly making their way to Marc and Steven's bed, not without sparing a glance to the couch where the system was settled in. Probably still reading their book. They made a mental note to themselves to ask about the book at a later time, when they'd find a good opportunity.

As they settled into the bed, y/n covered themselves with the blankets Marc had laid out for them. It felt peculiar to sleep in the bed of another man. The scribe felt like they were completely violating the system's personal space, despite Marc insisting on the arrangement, assuring them that it was completely fine.

They stared up at the ceiling, unsure if they were quite ready to sleep yet. The scribe hummed, turning to their side after some time, They listened to the water filter of Gus the Second's fish tank hum amidst the stillness of the night and the occasional turning of page as Steven flipped through his book. In the moments before sleep finally took over the young thing, y/n laid in bed and observed Gus the second swimming around in his little home. They could see him clearly, swimming and exploring in his own little world, and they couldn't help but wonder if Gus ever caught glimpses of Steven and themselves about the apartment and dreamt of leaving his home in the fish tank to explore Steven's apartment.

-----------

@astrobuzzsstuff

@blustalker

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#marc spector #moonknight x reader #gn reader #moonknight imagine #moon knight series #steven grant x reader #marvel #marc spector x reader #marc spector x y/n #moonknight fanfiction #moonknight reader insert #reader insert #marc spector reader insert #steven grant reader insert #moonknight platonic fanfic #platonic reader #young reader #khonshu #mcu #mcu fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel reader insert #marvel x reader #marvel x platonic reader

[welovelouisandbucky]

Faith

Teaser

A/n: I'm really sorry for the wait, my Tumblr was not letting me post this it got messy anyway. And I'd like to say English is not my native language and I'm sorry for the mistakes, and positive criticism would very much be appreciated:) and feel free to ask if you want to be added to the taglist

Pairing: Steven Grant x teen!reader Marc Spector x teen!reader

Summary: reader is a single teen parent who lives on her own with her kid. One night her kid went missing and then she found her with none other than our Steven

"Oh bollocks! This is not how it looks I swear!" Steven panics. Stepping away from the pissed off lady, almost like he's trying to run, which makes the situation ten times worse.

Steven has faced many things in life, every worst case scenario possible, you imagine. Whether it was accidentally knocking down the new packages at work that read 'FRAGILE' and almost getting fired afterwards, or when one day he was stepping down from the bus, half awake and half asleep. He tripped over his feet and fell face first and took an old lady with him; he was fine but the lady was hospitalized for weeks. Or one time he was walking around a park, again, half awake he accidentally stepped onto a stray dog's tail. That day he ran like that cameraman for like half an hour and not because the dog stopped chasing him no, no because Marc decided to have little mercy on him by taking control. Even more, but none of them were this bad, where he was being accused of kidnapping a child. 

And the kid approached him first!

He was just back from his soul drowning day at 'work'. Today was a hell of a day. And he wanted nothing more than to just get to his home and feed Gus the second, and plop himself on the bed and drift away to sleep. 

But at the main door as he was finding his keys, he felt a little tug on his pants, looking down he saw a girl no older than three or four, smiling up at him. He instantly tensed up, looking around the lobby trying to figure out who's kid is this, and why did they let the toddler freely roam all over the lobby. Concerned, he scrunched down to her level and began asking her questions softly: where's your mum? What's your name, little love? What are you doing here all by yourself at this time, huh? Do you live here? 

The girl answered some of them by nodding her head, and quietly said her name,"Faith," and pointed to the door behind Steven. 

He picked her up and was ready to return her safely to her mum, but then a girl barged through the door. In alarmed mode Steven took a step back, second mistake. Don't ever step back if you are returning a child to their guardian, it will make the situation worse. And that's what Steven didn't know, so here he is panicking. 

Suddenly Marc decided to speak up.

Put the fucking kid down, you moron! You look like you're 'bout to run off with her! 

Marc shouts at Steven, clearly just as panicked as Steven. Steven looks at the kid he is holding and immediately puts her down, the probable guardian of the child takes Faith into her arms, protectively. 

…

Panic. Fear. Guilt.

Is what y/n had been feeling since Faith disappeared. 

All this happened in one minute. She had just left her in the living room to put the folded clothes in their place and when she returned, boom, Faith wasn't there. She searched the whole apartment, looking for a single sign of Faith but no, it's like she disappeared into thin air. But just to be confirmed before reaching out to police she checked the whole apartment twice but still no trace of Faith. She started crying three minutes after Faith's disappearance, so near to panic attack. She is blaming herself for it. If she hadn't left Faith all by herself she would've been in her arms watching Frozen, but putting clothes away was more important than her fucking daughter! 

She's scared to death, if something happened to Faith she'll never forgive herself for it. How can she let this happen in the first place? Million wrong things crossing her mind, what if something happened to her? What if she got hurt? Or worse, what if someone kidnapped her? Or what if she somehow gets to the road and car–no no no, this can't be real. This has to be a dream! This is the worst nightmare ever. 

She quickly picks up her phone and gets out of the apartment. If she has to take her daughter from Lucifer's lap she'll do it without missing a beat, she'll do anything for her. Two steps out the door, she sees her. Her Faith, in the arms of their weird neighbour. The guy who trashed the bathroom of the museum and got fired, and that's not it. Everyone has been saying he talks to himself a lot. And the sweet lady down the lobby said, one time in the elevator he started screaming out of sudden, and there was nothing. Everyone in the building said he's crazy, and needs the help of a psychiatrist. He always looked like hadn't slept for years with the dark circles under his eyes, and a deep frown on his face. And always clumsily walking into walls and or doors, and talking to some imaginary people. He looked like he's on drugs all the time, and the museum news says it all. He is walking a red flag, and you were his neighbor living right across from him. 

You always kept Faith out of his gaze and changed your path whenever you saw him somewhere. 

And seeing him with your daughter, terrified you. You shot over there and yelled at him. 

"What the hell are you doing with my child?!" You are fuming with anger. He looked at you panicked, taking a step back and that angered you more.

"Oh bollocks! This is not how it looks, I swear!" He said taking yet another step backwards, and let go of Faith. You quickly pull her into a protective mama bear hug. Relief washing over you. 

"Look, I know that was looking bad but I swear I wasn't trying to do what you're thinking, I swear!" He speaks up suddenly, you glare daggers into his soul. Scared, he backs up. 

#marvel #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrest meme #steven grant #moon knight #marc spector #moon knight memes #moon knight incorrect quotes #moon knight x teen!reader #steven grant x teen!reader #marc spector x teen!reader #x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel moon knight #steven grant x reader #marc spector fanart #marc spector x reader #moon knight boys #khonshu #marvel x platonic reader #marvel x teen!reader #moon knight x teen reader

[k1ss-m3-b3tt3r]

✟ Mary on a Cross ✟

pairing: Khonshu x gn! reader (platonic), mentions of marc and steven

summary: you cant see khonshu but you can sense him until one day you do see him. marc tells you how much of an over-the-top asshole hes been. as marc speaks about it, you realize this might be deeper than expected.

warnings: swearing

a/n: this is my first post and first fanfic in a long time. please, be patient with me and happy reading. :)

all day, and i mean all day, you couldnt get this stupid song out of your head. it was almost like it was drilling into your brain to put it simply. even at work, your coworkers kept asking what the song was while you were unknowingly humming it. you cursed at yourself, not being able to help it at this point.

there was only one cure to this and you had to just listen to the song over and over again until you pass out, which was a common assurance due to your constant loving music ass.

“couldnt survive one day without it can i?” you said just trying to stare at the clocking zoning out, hopefully for some reason thinking it would move faster. now, what song you may ask, its mary on a cross by ghost. with that song floating around the internet, who couldnt have it stuck in their head 24/7.

“FINALLY!” you said loudy, disturbing the people around you but honestly you didnt care. you barged out of work, clocking out and just saying a quick bye to a few coworkers that, surprisingly, didnt piss you off.

luckily, you didnt miss the bus on your way home. as the bus pushed you back and forth with every stop, all a sudden your ring tone blurted out causing you to freak out for a second. “well, that was hella embarrassing.”

you read the contact, “steven? what does he want?” you looked outside and it was almost dark with the sun setting already. you knew it was a long shift but damn. you clicked the answer button and immediately heard a grumpy voice.

“ah, marc whats up?” “howd you even know,” he responded with a slow sigh after it. it took you a second but you connected the pieces. “back from work?” you asked, not surprised hearing a long yup. “do you mind coming over to drop off some milk or something. im trying to actually cook for once but its not exactly going as planned,” marc groaned loudly.

‘such a drama queen,’ you thought and honestly you might be right half the time just thinking about past occurrences. “alright, guess ill come over and cook tonight,” before he could even say anything you hung up not ready to put up with him.

‘damn it, i might not even be able to listen to the song,’ you groaned, sounding just like marc at that point. then, the bus almost threw you while saying next stop and i mean.. it is your stop so you guess you should honestly be grateful for the driver notifying you?

you moved through all the bags and people in the bus until taking a step off the bus and onto the dirty ground while carrying your satchel, which old but it worked for its purposes. you turned back and the bus was quickly turning around a corner. ‘those poor people,’ you laughed lightly to yourself.

you walked into your apartment complex and it was a bit dingy you must admit but it was home and at least you had one. you lived two doors down from marc or steven i suppose, depending on the day.

“you go down.. bloody mary mary on a-“ you swung the door open as you kept murmuring the song in and out. ‘can nothing stop the song already?’

your apartment was pretty boring, not going to lie. you had basic minimal things: a couch, crusty wooden chairs, a table that feels like its going to tip over any minute. “yeah.. maybe i should fix that soon..” you slowly muttered to yourself but reminded yourself that you had a meal to cook two door doors down.

you threw your stuff down from work and grabbed the milk, slamming it closed and sighing because you had to go back and close it gently. then strutted your way down the hall outside the apartment for which you live in and gently knocked on the door.

there was no answer. “MARC IMMA HOLLER IF YOU DONT LET ME IN!” you were so mentally tired and exhausted. eventually, the door swung open when you knocked even harder repeatedly.

“you were already hollering in the first place,” he rolled his eyes, “come in, i guess.” “you better be greatful im even cooking you food. “well, it wasnt a choice was it?” he squinted at you. what he said was true so you went around him and inside his apartment.

still looked the same: books everywhere, everything scattered but organized at the same time? ‘how the hell does that make sense?’

as you started cooking this meal, which you arent even a good cook actually, marc started ranting about his day and how khonshu, yes you know about him, was a dick. i mean, you figured after hearing marc constantly argue with them ever since you found out, which was easy. ‘people are so dumb nowadays or.. maybe im smart! nahhh’

you were constantly in your own thoughts until marc started saying stuff that concerned you a bit. “it was like khonshu was having a grumpy breakdown or just wasnt paying attention to the job! he was weird. like stop zoning out for one minute just staring at people! its creepy and on top of that, he kept mentioning how he looked constantly?-“

“what about his looks?” you inquired. “im not even sure at this point, he just comparing him and other gods and people, and how he was never really worshiped blah blah blah. besides that, it almost seemed like hes been grumpy and attention seeking, trying to “fit in” i guess. and im like STOP IT youre a god am i right?”

“hum.. are you sure it was attention seeking and not yearning for the fact that he is not like you and me?” you could sense the upsetting aura around you and knew khonshu must be there, which was a rare occurrence to you.

“you could be right or you could be wrong, im not sure,” marc actually looked thoughtful for a second before saying, “but hes a god, what more can he want. im going to take a shower, you can tell me when its done.” he walked out of there with a questionable face, but you didnt question anything as you kept stirring the pot just full of noodles and alfredo sauce.

you felt the presence growing stronger and stronger and sadder and sadder. you started humming and humming, not able to take it anymore and started up your phone playing mary on a cross, finally trying to get it out of your head. you couldnt help but sing along with it.

“but through all the sorrow we were riding highhh,” trying to hit that note and actually nailing it, you fist bumped the air and continued, “and the truth of the matter is i had to let you gooo let you gooo!”

you turned around and quiet down for a second singing, “you go down just like bloody mary… mary on a mary on a cross..”

you look up and there you were looking khonshu in his eye sockets and got a really good look at him. surprisingly, you werent startled and just kept going, “you go down just like holy mary mary on a mary on a cross”

you leaned in touching his beak letting him know you were there and could see him, “not just another bloody mary mary on a mary on aaa”

as the chorus picked up, you took your hand off and started fake drumming making the mood lighter and goofier, you werent a sap and you knew it so you did the best you could, “you go down just like holy maryy mary on a mary on a cross!”

you turn towards him and laughed a bit but these words unknowingly stuck with him harder than you anticipated, “your beauty never ever scared me!”

he turned away and laughed silently embarrassed but glad for a quick second, which was strange of him and concerning for other people but he honestly did feel better. he gave you a thought as you kept singing and vanished after saying, “thank you..”

you nod and keep singing until you hit the last verse of the song. the energy around you felt so much lighter than before and you finally got that stupid song out your head. ‘i guess it wasnt so stupid. it cheered him up at least a little bit’

marc walks into the kitchen, all dressed and ready for food clearly. as you poured the bowls you decided not to tell marc about the little interaction with khonshu and im sure khonshu wouldnt want you too either, especially after somehow seeing him, which is odd in its own way.

as you looked up marc was less irritated and just plain tired, so you guys only had a little small talk and a quick thank you before you were kicked out.

“rude!” you went into your apartment and couldnt help but think about khonshu.

“hope he feels better..”

#khonshu #khonshu x reader #moon knight x gn reader #moon knight x male reader #moon knight #moon knight x fem!reader #platonic

[squirrelsjunegloom]

The Goddess of the Stars

Greetings all! Squirrel back finally with something for June Gloom! I’ve decided to go with Moon Knight because it is the most recent thing I’ve watched. Anyway I hope all are staying safe and are happy! Be sure to enjoy this and watch out cause more are on their way!

Enjoy Folks!

*gif is not mine

Y/n was quite an underappreciated artist of her time, at least that’s what her friend told her. But Y/n had no intention of being a cocky and vain artist, she was happy to be humble and always downplay her craft.

Her nights were usually plagued by dreams, vivid and detailed. Some nights she would be floating amidst the starry void of space she would reach out and touch stars some would shine bright and others would float around her.

Her dreams inspired her to create masterpieces to bring them to life for others to enjoy but unlike those who could view her paintings, she got to enjoy her dreams almost religiously each night.

But one day it all changed. Searching for something a little different to paint into the masterpiece she was working on she visited the museum, currently with the Egyptian exhibits. She wandered around for a short while before stopping upon an exhibit that caught her eye. It was of the moon god, Khonshu the bird skull seemingly entranced her.

She was so lost in her thoughts and staring intently at the moon god she was startled by someone besides her.

         “You interested in the Egyptian god Khonshu?” turning to look at the person she was pleasantly surprised to see a slightly dishevelled man but he had this brightness in his eyes talking about it.

         “I’m looking for some inspiration, I’m working on something and I wanted to include something different,” Y/n explained shyly.

         “I’m Steven with a v, Steven Grant,” he introduced somewhat enthusiastically holding out his hand to her. She smiled and took his hand in hers, “I’m Y/n L/n,” she blushed.

         “Well, Y/n I hope you find what you’re looking for I better get back to the Gift shop, otherwise my boss will chew me out,” he huffed sadly. Y/n waved and gave a smile to him and continued on her way, but she had a feeling that she would visit the gift shop a bit later on.

Khonshu didn’t normally hang around Steven much because he considered him a worm, a parasite of Marc. Marc at least did his job, most times anyway. He kept away from Steven but he was huffing looking around at the Egyptian exhibit the humans had, some of the information was basic at best, Khonshu sometimes wondered what life would have been like had the humans continued to worship the pantheon of gods, would he have been able to interact more with the humans, protect the travellers of the night. Lost in thought he didn’t notice one human staring at him.

Y/n was intrigued by everything and eventually came upon a tall statue, at least she thought it was until it moved, and she stilled, staring up at it.

Khonshu turned and looked at the human, intently, curious as to why this human was looking at him which is unlikely given that he could only be seen by his avatar alone, but he approached and the human stepped back, looking at him curiously.

         “Hi,” she awkwardly greeted.

         “You can see me, little one?” inquired the god, she nodded, “Hmm... how very curious,” he noted to himself. “What is your name?” asked the god.

         “I’m Y/n,” she answered hesitantly, she wanted to tear her eyes away from the strange thing before her, but she couldn’t help but stare, intrigued, noticing that it greatly resembled Khonshu.

         “Wh..who are you?” she asked quietly.

         “I am Khonshu, protector of travellers in the night,” He stated proudly.

         “Okay...” She started off not really sure what she was meant to do now.

Y/n gently waved at the large bird god and bid him farewell, leaving him to his own devices.

Y/n had returned home, she never did get the chance to stop by the gift shop so she could talk some more with Steven. He seemed to know a lot about Egypt and she was sure that he could help her with his vast knowledge. She spent her evening cleaning up and making herself a simple meal. She washed up and made a cup of hot chocolate to sip on whilst she sketched out some thumbnails for her painting, figuring out positioning and angle which would best suit and given her strange experience that she believed that she just imagined it all, she sketched Khonshu as she had seen depicted and from what she thought was her mind conjuring up.

She enjoyed the peace the night had to bring and the bright moon up above illuminating the sky as a guide for those traversing through the night. She was focused on her drawing that she missed the shadow cutting across the buildings.

Khonshu wanted to find the unique human who could see him. Y/n. He wanted to know more about her, how could she see him, no other human should be able to but she could.

He bothered Marc all night long pestering him to find this human female, that he had met, Marc begrudgingly huffed at Khonshu, saying that he had no clue on where to look for her and so Khonshu took the lead, and by some miracle, the moon was shining upon her, the human he saw that day.

         “There!” Khonshu pointed to her, “That is the human who could see me,” Khonshu did his best to hide his excitement, “Go over there Marc I must know more about them!” demanded the moon god.

Marc huffed eyeing the God from the corner of his eye before doing as he was told by Khonshu. He approached cautiously over to the building the young woman was in, he had no intention of scaring the woman, but he wasn’t sure about Khonshu who had seemingly disappeared after spotting the ‘human who can see him.

Khonshu had left Marc to find his own way in, Khonshu had appeared in her living space and watched her. He was enraptured with her, she was sketching and Khonshu if he had some form of a face to express things, he would surely have a light blush painting his cheeks, seeing her drawing him, of all things.

Y/n’s messy H/l H/c had fallen forward and was gradually getting annoyed by it simply getting in the way and no matter how many times she moved it out of her face it kept falling back. Huffing she pushed back her stubborn hair, putting down her materials and deciding to have a break, she rubbed her tired eyes and there before her, was the strange vision of the God, Khonshu. She blinked owlishly at him, a few times before her eyes fluttered and she stumbled a bit, the god reached out to steady her, surprised to see that he could, in fact, touch her.

         “Sorry,” she mumbled, “Are you real? Maybe I’m insane? Perhaps there is something wrong with me after all?” Y/n muttered to herself, all while Khonshu tilted his head curiously at the human’s mumblings.

Marc had managed to finally get in the building and knocked on the door he believed the woman to be in, and also for the feeling of Khonshu’s power leading him to said door.

Hearing a knock at the door, Y/n left to answer it and was surprised to see the one and only Moon Knight before her, a little scared she backed away. Marc’s mask came undone and he noted the lady seemed surprised.

         “Steven? Steven Grant?” she asked a little unsure, at the person before her, she knew the face was that of the sweet intelligent Steven with a V who worked at the museum gift shop, but the eyes told her otherwise, this before her was not Steven, this was someone else.

         “Uh... no, not Steven I’m Marc,” Marc introduced his American accent much stronger than the British one she had had earlier in the day from Steven.

         “Marc... okay... you’re Marc,” she pointed at him, blinking owlishly, “and can you see him?” she asked pointing at Khonshu, who was now leaning on his staff.

Marc looked over and nodded at her. “Okay... I’m not insane? I think, maybe this is stress?” she muttered walking away from Marc in the entryway. She took a seat on her couch, doing some simple breathing techniques, one’s Marc had done in the past to ease the panic and fear he had from his youth and into being a mercenary.

Marc reluctantly entered her apartment and shut the door behind him. “Is there anything I can do to help you?” Marc inquired approaching the woman cautiously.

         “Uh... I don’t really know, I mean I thought he was a part of my imagination, but if he’s real then what does that mean for everything else I’ve dealt with?” Y/n asked realisation hit her! “Uh, my name! It’s Y/n! Sorry!” she jumbled out, almost shouting, flustered, realising how rude she had been.

         “Y/n, well it’s nice to meet you, again I guess,” said Marc, looking over at Khonshu who had since approached a little closer to Y/n.

         “I’m sorry if I have frightened you little one, I’m honestly curious as to how you can see me,” Khonshu had finally spoken up.

         “So it’s not common to see... you,” she inquired looking over at the god.

         “No, only my avatar, in this case, Marc should be able to see me, but you are the first to have seen me,” Khonshu informed.

Y/n had fallen quiet, taking in the information. She had weird starlight dreams ever since she could remember so perhaps that had something to do with it, but it doesn’t answer anything it only seemingly brings up more questions.

         “Y/n, are you alright?” Marc queried. Y/n looked up at him, then at Khonshu and back at Marc. Her brow furrowed, “I’ve had strange dreams since I was very young, could that perhaps be a factor in why I can see you?” Y/n asked, looking between the Moon God and his Avatar.

#moon knight #khonshu #marc spector #steven grant #steven with a v #platonic reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #khonshu x reader #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x reader

[sailorkamino]

'Chaos in Us' masterlist

relationships: moon boys x witch!avenger!reader, platonic!khonshu x reader, platonic!avengers x reader [gender neutral]

summary: When you leave behind your friends in New York to be the master of the London Sanctum you can't help but feel a little lonely. Luckily a mysterious gift shopist is there to make the foreign city feel like home.

a/n: infinity war/endgame never happened, the avengers are a happy family

series moodboard | what color is your magic? | playlist

as of june 9th i'm closing the taglist <3

one shots

Chaotic - When you move to London you aren't expecting to fall in love. You also aren't expecting an Egyptian god who kind of sounds like Darth Vader to crash your date but that's just your life apparently.

Cities of Loves - From camel rides and stargazing in Cairo, to dinner and sightseeing in Paris, to shopping and visiting the beach in Guatamala City. You love teleporting with your boys.

Dreamsharing - After accidentally seeing Marc's childhood first hand you assure him how much he's loved. When you try tell the boys what you saw you wind up revealing your own dark past. [used to be a blurb but i added a part 2]

asks/blurbs (<1k)

my inbox is open!

Star (Gazing) Wars - your late night date is interrupted by overconfident kree

Delivery - the boys visit the sanctum for the 1st time to bring you dinner when you're busy

#steven grant x reader #steven grant fluff #marc spector x reader #marc spector fluff #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley fluff #moon knight x reader #moon knight fluff #platonic khonshu #chaos in us #moon knight #marvel masterlist

[book-place]

Night Stroll

Warnings: cursing, let me know if I missed any :)

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

Request: Can you do a platonic fic where the reader is the goddess of the moon but is like a daughter to Khonshu and meets Marc/Steven because they were bored? Sry if this doesn’t make sense I have a hard time putting ideas into words 😅

Request by: @buddee

*not my gif*

Summary: A nightly stroll takes a turn

A/N: This is definitely one of the shortest things I’ve ever written

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

“Read?”

“No.”

“Play a board game?”

“No.”

“Watch a documentary?”

“Definitely not.”

Steven crossed his arms with a huff, pouting slightly at Marc in the mirror, “Well then what do you want to do? Because I’m all out of ideas here.”

The American man rolled his eyes, “Your ideas are boring.”

“They are not!” He protested, stomping his foot like a child.

Marc placed his hands on either side of the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as if to ward off an oncoming headache, “Okay, Steven, I will only say this one more time: I am not sitting through another one of your ideas of fun.”

“Well then what do you suggest we do?” He challenged back, fed up with his alter.

“I really don’t care,” Marc started waving his hands around, “Let’s just get out of here, go on a walk or something.” He suggested.

Steven let out a disappointed and dramatic sigh, “Fine, Marc, whatever.”

He walked out of the hotel room, making sure to grab a jacket on the way out, and exited into the cool night air.

Since it was Marc’s idea, he fronted and led the walk along the sidewalk, glancing up at the moon every now and then.

“It sure is beautiful.” Steven said, looking up at the bright white object in the sky.

“Thanks.” A voice said from behind them.

They whipped around with wide eyes, their vision landing on a young woman, sitting on top of a brick wall, swinging her legs back and forth.

“Who the hell are you?” Marc asked, releasing his fists that his hands subconsciously turned into when he was startled.

“Y/n.” You said in a ‘duh’ tone, hopping off of the wall and walking up to the man with your hands clasped behind your back, looking up at the moon.

“Have we met, or…” Marc trailed off, looking to you for answers.

You sighed, leaning your head up to the sky, “No, Marc,” You said his name mockingly, “We have not met before, but I know who you are, and it’s kind of rude that you don’t know who I am.”

“How are we supposed to know who you are?” A British voice asked.

“Well, Steven, I would have assumed that you would have been told.” You said, glancing at him sideways.

“By… whom?” He asked.

“I would assume Khonshu.” You shrugged, “But then again, I never was his favorite person.”

Stevens' mouth dropped open as he gaped at you, “Y-you’re an avatar?” He couldn’t think of any other way you would know the God.

You let out a laugh. A long laugh. You doubled over clutching your stomach as you laughed and laughed.

“A-avatar?” You finally managed to breath out between gasps for air, “Oh, Steven. I’m a goddess. Goddess of the moon to be exact. And I’m Khonshu’s daughter.”

Marc quickly snapped his mouth shut and turned on his heel, throwing his hands up in the air, “That’s it! I’m done with this bullshit! I can't even go on a normal walk anymore!”

You let out a giggle, waving after him, “I’ll see you two later!” Once they were out of sight, you let out a sigh of contempt, “I like them, dad.”

“I knew you would.” Khonshu said, suddenly appearing beside you, “They’re as annoying as you are.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Whatever, old man.”

Like a Bee 🐝- @ip747 @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @jvdethirlwall

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #marvel #mcu #mcu x reader #mk #mk x reader #mk imagine #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #khonshu #khonshu x reader #Khonshu x daughter reader #daughter reader #platonic reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector #Marc Spector x reader platonic #steven grant #steven grant x reader #Steven Grant x reader platonic

[a-moonlit-omen]

I really love your yan dad khnoshu ideas ..i wish you'd turn them into a story! also a crossover with the riordanverse sounds really brilliant!

Thank you so much! You know what just for you Anon I'll show what I wrote for the first yan dad Khonshu idea while my wifi was out about a week ago.

Yan Dad Khonshu WIP

“Shh, little moth, I’ve got you, Father's got you.” Steven’s eyes flew open in fear, knowing that voice should be long gone from his and Marc’s lives. He couldn’t even get a faint whimper out before the damned old pigeon was on him, checking him over.

“Shh, my son, you’re safe now. I took away from those vile fools, mistreating you just to make themselves feel better, you and Marc both. Even if I had to split you into separate bodies to keep you safe from each other while you adjust.”

“Adjust? What in the bloody hell do you mean adjust!? I want Marc, I want to go home!” Steven threw himself against his restraints, headbutting Khonshu in the process. Yet all the bastard did was sigh.

“Steven, Starshine, you won’t get to see Marc until you’ve both calmed down, now please stop thrashing you’re going to hurt yourself at this rate.” All Steven did was thrash harder, calling out his brother.

“Marc! Marc hhelmmlp!” Khonshu carefully threaded a gag into Steven’s mouth.

“Shh, Starshine, I already told you you’ll only get to see Marc once you both calm down. You’re only going to scream yourself hoarse if you keep this up. I’ve got Marc even more locked down than you so even if your brother could hear you he can’t reach you.” Khonshu pulled a weighted blanket over Steven, tucking it under his chin. “Now rest, my son, I’ll let you see Marc if you’ve calmed down after your nap.” Steven froze as Khonshu pressed his beak to his forehead in a mock kiss.

#moon knight #yandere khonshu #platonic yandere #parental yandere #parental khonshu #steven grant #answered asks

[yikesitskennawrites]

Transitions- Chapter Twenty-Six: Being Cared For By Your Friends and Jake Lockley

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  

TRIGGER WARNING: Brief implications of sexual assault (no character has been sexually assaulted but it is asked).

---

The walk to your apartment complex felt like you were in a dream. With the small glances into windows and rain puddles, you determine that you look like a ghost haunting the street. Your face is pale and blood and rain blinds you multiple times as fellow humans stop in their tracks and give you a horrifying look as you pass. You know with just their looks alone that you should go to the hospital but, you ignore them and continue to move your feet. The brightness of the headlights of the passing cars hurts your eyes and makes your head pound even worse. You feel like a walking corpse who just got hit by a train. You were extremely exhausted. You haven’t slept in over twenty four hours and the time that you were unconscious doesn’t count.

With every step you take, a jolt of pain runs up your sides. You breathe in and out slowly, trying to not expand your lungs and muscles to cause more hurt and damage to your bruising torso. You press your palm into the cut on your forehead as you walk to apply pressure to the wound, your fingertips have long since gone cold and numb. Your face felt tingly from the bitter rain. There was a pit in your stomach that's hard to describe. You don’t know if it belonged to a bruise from getting punched in your torso or if your anxiety from the day and the dizziness from your blood loss was the root of it, but either way something felt off. You felt like someone was watching you, but as you spare a glance around there were nobody but concerned bystanders who cleared themselves from your path.

You vaguely recognize your apartment building, the lights of your neighbors were shining in the windows of their apartment, others were dark. It was about twenty yards away, you were close to getting inside. It was your building right? You squint at it, trying to find a way to recognize it from the outside. It looks like your building, it was the same color and it had the stairs leading up to it as it always does. But, the buildings next door look the same too. You could feel that your thoughts were becoming more muddled and unfocused as you pause in your tracks and stare at the building. This one has to be it, right? All the buildings in this area look the same. They were built for those who needed places to live after coming back from the blip. You try to focus on the building that you believe is yours as the world spins around you and a wave of nausea hits you. This one has to be it, if it's not you can just move to the next one and see if you recognize the lobby. 

You need to get inside. If you don’t get help soon, you will bleed out on the streets. You should let some passersby call you an ambulance, but you still don’t want to risk getting caught with fraud. You wish that you had your phone to call Steven or Marc. They would come and get you unless Jake was busy doing Moon Knight shit. You doubt that he was because hypothetically, he should have saved you from the fucking mugger. Unless Khonshu was just being a dick and decided that you should die in an alley, you wouldn’t put it past him. You force yourself to walk up the steps, holding onto the railing and lifting your legs slowly as you go. You left a blood trail on the metal railing, one that the rain will wash away and won’t exist by the time the moon is up high in the sky.

You think that he cracked your ribs and gave you a concussion, if he didn’t do the former then he must have heavily bruised your side; but you definitely knew that he gave you a concussion. You pull open the door with gritting teeth before entering the lobby. The brightness hurt your eyes and made your nausea ten times worse. You’re going to throw up soon if you can’t get a hold on it. You grip the cloth of your shirt, rain and blood wringing out with the pressure of your grasp. The floor was dotted with the color of pink liquid and you blink tiredly at the surface. You know that head wounds bleed profusely and should be taken care of immediately. All of your clothing was heavy with rain and blood, you wanted to get into your pajamas and underneath Stevens blankets soon. 

It looks like it belongs to your building, but since the city made these places to live, wouldn’t every building have the same layout? Your eyes land on the closed elevator door, the out of order sign was still taped to it. Yes, this is indeed your apartment, the maintenance was shitty and this elevator has been broken for the last few days. The only way is up and you have five floors. You make your way over to the door for the stairwell, luckily somebody left it propped open so you wouldn’t have to use some of your remaining strength on it. Walking up five floors was already terrible before, now it is even worse. You absolutely weren’t going to complain about going up or down the stairs when you completely heal next time, that’s only if you survive. You had to believe that you will just to spite the universe even though a major part of you wants to let go and finally be at peace. No more arguments, no more lies, no more deities, no more muggings, no more grief. Just peace and death; and right now, that sounds pretty nice.

You clutch onto the railing and force your legs to move, tears run down your face as you lift each leg after the other. You caught yourself from slipping a few times, your hand darting out in front of you while your left clenched tightly onto the railing. You wait a few moments to give yourself a small break before continuing onward. By the time you reached the fourth floor and was halfway up the stairs, you knew that you were going to pass out. Black spots dots across your vision and everything sounds like it was underwater. You felt a warm breeze envelope your body and the pit in your stomach tighten into a knot. You blink your eyes, trying to get rid of the dots and focus on your mission of getting up the rest of the flight of stairs. 

The next thing you know you were staring up at the concrete platform above you. You hazily blink as you turn your head to the side, trying to gather information on what happened. For a moment, you thought everything from the past couple of years of your life was a dream. But, as you gather the sight of the red liquid spreading around you, you come to the conclusion that you were wrong and that this was reality. You bend yourself up on your forearms as you try to assess the damage before getting up. You fell backwards, tumbling from the mid flight of stairs and landed on a concrete base. The back of your head felt even worse than you remember, you’re absolutely going to need stitches and Steven will definitely take you to the hospital or call an ambulance for you if you get up to his flat. 

You felt dizzy and everything seemed like it was too much for you. If you lay back down and close your eyes, you will never wake up again. You blink at the top of the steps, you were so close to getting to Stevens place that if you give up now, you might as well have let yourself die in that alley. You groan and cry out in pain as you sit up and use the handrail to lift yourself up off of the ground. The plastic baggy that contains the shredded and soaked pieces of the Eye of Horus pokes out of your pocket and brushes against your skin as you lift your hand to the back of your head and poked lightly around the source of some of your head pain. 

You hiss between your teeth as you poked a little too harshly on the wound, the spike of pain causes you to pull your hand quickly from the injury. You glance down at the red staining your finger tips and frown at the sight. That shouldn’t be there, that should be in your body and not leaking out like the Kool Aid man just got stabbed. Your eyes trail from your fingertips and to the small pool of blood at the base of the stairs. You don’t know how long you’ve been laying there without anybody stumbling on you or how long in general you were passed out for, but that pool of red was not a good sign. Honestly, none of this was a good sign or day. You hold onto the railing, slowly lifting your foot and trying to push past the spinning of everything. 

Just a few more steps and then you can take a break on the platform at the top of the steps. You nearly black out by the time that you manage to reach the base of the last flight of stairs. Blood loss should have taken you out. You should be dead and have gone long cold by now;  but you like to think that you were too spiteful to let it take you. You hold onto the rail with both of your hands as you struggle to feel like air was reaching your lungs. Through the pounding of your ears, you hear a door above you open and close with footsteps following downwards. You close your eyes and try to breathe calmly through the pain as you listen to the footsteps coming towards you. It was going to be one of your neighbors and they were going to see how injured you are and will probably try to get you help. 

The steps stop suddenly and you think you hear the sound of hitched breath. Your name was called softly before you felt the gentle touch of a hand on your shoulder. Whoever it belonged to, they slowly turn your body towards them and you open your eyes. Steven stares at you with worry, horror, and absolute panic on his face. The shift was subtle, you would have thought that it was Marc if it wasn’t for the New York accent that you grew up listening to when you lived in the States. Stevens' soft eyes shifted into a hard gaze and the hand on your shoulder feels a little tighter than before. It was a comforting grip, one that seems to make you more steady than before.

“¿Qué pasó?” Jake asks. His brown eyes run you up and down. “¿Por qué estás sangrando?” You mumble something incoherent to your own ears and through the dizziness, you watch his hard look form into one of concern. Maybe you hit your head a little too hard for you to think that Jake Lockley is concerned.

“¿De dónde viene la sangre?” He says. You blink at him, you feel like you were going to pass out once again. Everything was beginning to sound like it was at the far end of a tunnel. You blink at him dazedly as his mouth moves but no sound registers in your ears. His other hand grasps onto your other shoulder as black spots dance across your vision. Here goes round number two you guess. The next thing you know, you were laying down on the concrete floor and this time Jake Lockely stares down at you. Your legs were bent, your knees pointing towards the ceiling while the flat of your shoes rested against the floor. It was an awkward position to wake up in. You try to stretch your legs out but a hand being placed on your thigh stops you. 

“Don’t.” Jake says as he removes his hand. Unlike before when you thought everything of the past two years was a dream, you remember what happened. You turn your head slightly to the side to get a better look at him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask. He raises both of his brows.

“You don’t remember?”

“No, I do. I just-” You’re cut off by a sharp spike of pain at the back of your head and the front of it. You wince. “Why are you here? Steven should be in his flat.” You were trying to get to their apartment because Steven wouldn’t know how much help you need.

“They were worried about you and left to go look.” Jake shrugs. “They had the right to worry.” He gestures to you. “I looked you over for where the blood came from but there’s nothing.” You blink at him a few times, trying to process what he just stated. Maybe you misheard him. Maybe your concussion fucked up your hearing. Because for you to be bleeding out and feel like Carrie after she got pig blood dumped on her, there was no fucking way you did not have a wound that needs stitches and staples.

“What?” You say. He stares at you for a moment. You squint at him as the brightness of the overhead lights become a bit too much. You try to see through your lashes if he had a visible expression on his face that could help you determine what he could be thinking about. The silence between you was a little tense, you think that Steven or Marc was talking to Jake, but you’re not sure. 

“You’re not injured.” He says slowly. This time, the words seem to sink into your brain and completely process what he just said. How the fuck can you not be injured? You sure as hell feel like you just got your ribs cracked and head split open in two different spots. He has to be fucking with you. You stare at him for a moment longer as the tense silence deepens. There was blood at the base of the steps, there's blood on your work uniform that's never going to wash out, and the Eye of Horus in your jean pocket was stained with it. The liquid had to come from somewhere and you know where because of the pain you’re suffering through. But there’s no fucking wounds? 

You push yourself up on your elbows and hiss at the pain in your torso. You feel Jake's hands resting against your spine to help you sit up. You lift the edge of your wet shirt and raise it above your belly button to see the sides of your body. The angry purple and black bruises were gone. There was nothing visible but your skin and it felt like the bruises were sore and still plastered underneath your torso. You let go of your shirt and reach up to touch the cut on your cheek, the pain that surfaces from the light brushes of your fingertips causes your hand to jolt back.

“What?” He asks. You turn your head to gaze at him. You gave him an earnest look. “There’s nothing there.” He states. You swallow. You need to see it for yourself, maybe the bruises were still forming. But the cuts on your head? They had to be there. You turn your body, your hands and knees pressing hard against the concrete before you reach for the railing and pull yourself up. Just with the movement, you were in tears. You had one more flight to go up and walking up the last few steps was the last bit of the journey. You don’t understand how you can be in pain and for there to be no injuries. You stare at the last of the steps, you weren’t looking forward to climbing them. 

“Do you want to be carried?” He asks. Your eyes trail over to him and you watch him for a moment. You wait for the other shoe to drop, for him to tell you that he was joking or making fun of you but nothing comes out of his mouth. You didn’t want to be a hassle to him, but climbing the steps on your own just seems like it's a gateway to fainting again; and honestly, you didn’t want to cause any more pain to yourself than necessary. 

“Yeah.” You say. He bends down and hooks his arm around the back of your knees and places his other arm as a support behind your back before scooping you up and pulling you towards him. You lean your head against his shoulder as he begins the trek upwards. You can smell metal, wet clothes, and the scent of your neighbors laundry detergent and cologne. 

“What happened?” He asks. You don’t know how he doesn’t seem out of breath from carrying you and walking up the stairs. You definitely would be suffering if your roles were reversed. Perhaps super strength was part of the deal of being Khonshus knight, he did cut through a guy's arm with a dagger; and that was a clean cut which means he had to have a lot of force to swipe the blade through muscle and bone. Your stomach churns at the memory and you try to rid your head of it. 

“I was mugged.” You mumble. Your fingers wrap into his shirt, the cloth soft between your fingers. You can feel his body tense and tighten his hold on you a little at your statement. The two of you reach the door to the fifth floor level and you thought that he was going to drop you and make you walk all the way down the hall to Stevens apartment but he doesn’t. He holds you closer to his chest as one of his hands briefly lets go of you to open the door before he passes through the doorway and walks down the corridor. He only lets go of you once he reaches the mahogany door that belongs to his alter. You lean against the wall as he pulls out the apartment key from Stevens' jacket and roughly shoves it into the keyhole before opening the door and gesturing for you to go ahead of him. 

The place was just like you left it. The paper cranes you made sat on the coffee table, the mug you drank out of was resting next to them. The Rubik cube was tossed aside on the floor and the pages of sudoku Steven tried to teach you were crumpled up on the surface of the table. The yellow blanket you placed on Steven earlier today was kicked to the end of the couch. It was weird coming back to the same place after the shit you went through today. Everything felt like it was frozen in time, like there was a split between now and this morning. You don’t feel like the same person you were twelve hours earlier. 

Behind you, you hear Jake shut and lock the door. You listen to him shrug off Stevens jacket and drape it over the coat rack before his shoes tap against the floor as he walks towards you. 

“C’mon.” He says as he places his hand gently against your lower back and guides you to the bathroom. He flicks on the light, you wince at the brightness and the swaying of the room. Your eyes land on the mirror in front of you and a small gasp leaves you at the sight of your reflection. You look like yourself, but more drained. There were streaks of blood on your face, trailing down your neck and reaching the collar of your shirt. Your eyes were red and a little hazy. The cut you expected to be on your cheek was gone, a freshly pink scar rests in its place. Your fingers reach towards it and press lightly against it, and just like before, a spike of pain erupts from the surface and you pull your hand quickly away. It looks healed but it feels like the wound was freshly made. What the fuck? 

Your eyes trail up to the cut on your forehead and there was nothing but blood and a pink scar. There was no wound at all. But with the pain throbbing from the area on your skull, you sure as hell felt like there was. You swallow, your throat sore and a lump begins to form. Your eyes trail to Jake in the mirror as he grabs a wash rag from the towel rack and a first aid box that was too big to fit into the medicine cabinet. Panic bubbles in your stomach and your hands begin to shake. Nothing makes sense, how the hell could you get your ass whooped and walk away feeling like you had a concussion and not have any wounds on you? What the actual fuck? 

You watch your face pale even more in the dim light of the bathroom before Jake gently calls your name. His voice was the softest you have ever heard and the noise nearly startled you. It was so unlike him to be soft, for a moment you thought Steven was fronting, but with the frog look he always seems to have, you know that it was Jake. He steps forward and places the first aid kit onto the corner of the sink before turning on the hot water handle and holding the rag underneath the faucet. He brings the cloth up to your face and gently cleans the skin, you hiss out between your teeth and jolt your face away from him each time he causes pain; he would patiently wait for you to calm down and allow him to clean your skin. Each time the rag became too dirty for him to use, he held the rag underneath the running water and twisted the cloth until it was damp. You lost count of how many times he did it. 

Your shirt and pants clings to your skin and you shiver from the cold, wet feeling of it. Jake sets the rag into the sink as he takes in your features, his brown eyes scan every inch of your face with a critical look in his orbs. 

“What happened?” He finally asks, his voice tense and gruff. You frown at the question. You already told him what happened, did he hit his head and forget?

“I told you.” You say, your voice was quiet as you spoke. 

“Where did all this blood come from?” He asks. “Does it belong to you?” You don’t know how to tell him that you were bleeding out in an alley not too long ago and now you have nothing but healed skin to show for it and feeling pain like you were just beaten up.

“I wish that it didn’t” You say. A short humorless laugh leaves you and you are soon cut off by the pain in your side and pounding in your skull. Jake doesn’t look amused, to be fair, he never was.

“Is that scar new?” He brings his fingertips up to the line on your cheek and brushes against it. You slap his hand away as you jolt back and shoot a glare at him.

“It sure as hell wasn’t there yesterday.” You state. A moment falls between you where neither of you speak. The events of the last few hours were rooting themselves into your bones and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes. You lost everything because a man was selfish. You lost memories of your old life and your body hurts and you had no fucking clue why your body healed its self. Everything was crashing down on you as you allowed yourself to feel your hurt. You sniffle and Jake doesn’t comment on it, which you’re glad he chooses not to. You don’t like to cry in front of others and you’re not feeling up to deflecting his snide comments.

Your body hurts and you were terrified, you would be less scared if you didn’t have scars but rather injuries. You lift up the edge of your shirt once the pain in your side gets a little too much to handle. You lift it high enough that it still covers your mid torso and above but your ribs were visible enough for Jake to see. 

“Can you heal me?” You ask quietly. The question made you feel small like you were a kid. “I think he cracked my ribs.” Jake leans down a bit and scans the surface before gently prodding the bones. You try to stifle your moans as he checks to see if they were broken. 

“I don’t have the powers to heal others even with being Khonshus bitch as you put it.” Jake says once he finishes and stands straight. You let go of your shirt as a short laugh bursts out of you before the pain causes your body to still from the movement. He adds, “The suit only gives me the power to heal myself. Besides, there’s nothing to heal, your ribs aren’t cracked or broken.” 

“I feel like I’m wounded.” You tell him. “I clearly remember getting my head knocked against a brick wall and being punched in the gut and getting a knife sliced on my cheek and getting my ribs kicked in and my head hitting the ground several times today.” The list didn’t sound as bad as your body felt. It was bad, but not like the pain you were experiencing. You watch his frown deepen as your tongue darts out to wet your lips. 

You spare a glance into the mirror and the sight of you causes you to do a double take. You look a thousand percent better, but you don’t recognize the person staring back at you. They look worn out, exhausted down to the bone, dark circles underneath their eyes, and their face flushed of all blood. Their jaw were slimmer and their noses more defined than you remember yours being. This person staring back at you didn’t seem like it was you, they looked like a shell of the person you used to be. 

You trail your eyes away from the mirror and as you do so, you catch Jake's eyes staring into the reflective surface. How you look now, was how you’ve been looking to your neighbors. You wonder if Marc and Steven were staring back as you finally register just how terrible you truly are. No wonder Marc told you that you looked like shit. You turn on your heel, trying to ignore the vertigo as you walk to the living room with no real destination in mind but rather the choice of getting the hell away from the mirror. On your way, you decide to instead switch to sitting at the table. You don’t want to get Stevens' couch wet with your clothes, at least the dining chairs could be washed off easily. You sit at the table, groaning at the hurt of your body as you bend your legs to sit in the chair. 

Jake walks out of the bathroom with a puzzled expression on his face. He stares at you, his brows furrow and his eyes slightly narrowed. You could tell that he was trying to figure something out and whatever it was, there was going to be an argument between you. There always seems to be one.

“Did you accept?” He asks. He sounds too neutral and calm for your liking. Underneath his gaze, you felt like an antelope about to get their throat ripped out by a lion. You anxiously shift in your seat as confusion settles in. What is he going on about?

“Did I accept what?” You ask, your voice catching on the end. You blink and scrunch your eyebrows. He frowns at you, the corners of his lips tilting downwards as he registers your reply.

“Don’t fucking play dumb with me.” He says. “Did you or did you not accept?”

“I’m not playing anything, Jake.” You say, “What are you talking about?”

“Did you die and say yes to becoming a gods avatar?” He presses. Your mouth drops open and you give him a ‘are you fucking serious’ expression. He crossed the threshold to where you sat, the table stood between you. 

“Did I die?” You say. “I’m fucking breathing right now, Jake.” What drugs was he taking? Did he snort something up his ass in the bathroom? 

“That doesn’t mean shit.” He states and slams his hand down onto the table. You jump and he glares at you. Your heart beats harshly against your chest.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re going on about.” You tell him. His eyes scan your face, you feel like you’re an open book to him and he was reading you clear as day. 

“Did Marc tell you what happened?” He switches directions. “Did he give you the talk?” You scrunch your nose in disgust.

“Ew. No, are you seriously asking me if he talked about sex education with me-?” You got the talk when you were in middle-school. You definitely don’t need a recap from your neighbors. 

“No.” Jake cuts you off. “He didn’t tell you.” You give him a look. God, there was another secret? You huff out a breath and clutch your side. 

“What didn’t he tell me?” You press. He stares at you for a moment longer before his posture slouches and his eyes soften. Steven gazes at you with a kind and pitiful look. 

“Dove,” He says, his tone matching the look in his eyes. He pulls the chair across from you to the edge of the table and sits down in it, his hands resting on the surface of the table.

“Steven.” You reply. “What is it?” You don’t want to beat around the bush and from how Jake and Steven are both reacting to your mysterious healing, it wasn’t good. Honestly, none of this was good.

“You didn’t die then?” He asks gently.

“Unless I’m keeping my promise and haunting your ass as a ghost, then no I’m not dead.” You answer. His fingers scratch his thumb, peeling back the skin as he takes in your statement. You watch him bite the inside of his cheek as you wait for him to say something. You wanted to cry in peace and take a long nap, maybe you’ll be lucky enough to slip into a short coma and wake from it.

“Last spring,” He starts. “Right before you met us. There was that fight in Cairo.” He shudders out a breath. You let go of your side and place your hand on top of his in comfort. Whatever he was about to say next was clearly hard for him to speak about. He shoots you a small smile before he continues. “Harrow shot us and we died.” He pauses staring at you as you register his words. The words seem to echo in your mind as you process his statement. Your mouth drops open and you return his stare with wide eyes. Is he fucking serious?

“What?” You breathe out. 

“And before that, Marc got himself shot ten years ago and became Khonshus avatar.” He adds. You don’t know what to say to that. What the fuck are you suppsose to say to that? “There’s only two ways that we know of, how you could get healed like this, a deity asks you to become their avatar or you ask them.” You hold his gaze. Holy shit there was more. There were more secrets and more hiding and you thought that there wouldn’t be anything after yesterday but holy shit there is; and it is a hard pill to swallow.

“You died??” You say loudly. “You told me about the fight in Egypt but you left out that you died??” 

“Well it's not like we could tell you.” He defends.

“What do you mean?”

“You wouldn’t have believed us!”

“You literally told me about being a god's avatar and saving the world and your logic was to leave out that you died because I wouldn’t have believed you.” You say. What fucking logic was that? The same god damn logic than Marc had of lying to you about being blipped. He winces a little bit at your statement. 

“Marc went to the Field of Reeds.” He continues. “I stayed in the Duat and became stone.”

“Wait-wait-wait.” You say, “The Field of Reeds is the afterlife, right?”  He nods. 

“It’s a afterlife.” He corrects, “It’s a big field and all you feel is peace and calm. Marc described it like that, at least.”

“What’s the Duat?”

“It’s the realm of the dead.” He says, “It’s the place souls go for judgment.”

“Judgment like Ammits scales?” 

“No- well, kind of.” He replies, “Tawerets boat contains a scale that must measure the soul of a person and it must be balanced to enter into the Field of Reeds.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then you get thrown overboard into the sands of the Duat and frozen in time forever.” He says. You reach up to your forehead and massage your temples carefully. This was giving you a headache. 

“You’re both in the same body so shouldn't you both have gone to the Field of Reeds?”

“I mean, kind of.” He says.  “We sort of became like twins.”

“Twins?” You say incredulously. “How did that happen?”

He shrugs, “We’re two different people who just happen to coexist in the same body.”

“Was Jake judged?” You ask. He shakes his head.

“I don’t know. I don’t remember him being on the boat.” He says. You remove your hand from his and glance at the back of it. The swelling was gone, but like the rest of your injuries, it felt like it was still there. Since the Fields of Reeds exist, where did your parents go after they died? Did they become ghosts or did they go to the pearly gates of heaven? Did they get reincarnated into blue jays or the sands of the beach? Did they enter into the Field of Reeds or did they become stone in the sands of the Duat? Was there anything for them on the other side of the curtain of death or was it just a void of emptiness? “What happened?” He asks, interrupting your train of thought. You look away from your hand and back to him. 

“I was mugged….I-” You cut yourself off. Your throat is slowly becoming sore as your nose stings. “Steven- he took my phone.” 

“He took your phone.” He says quietly. “I’m sorry. I can- I can buy you a new one.” He offers. You vehemently shake your head, the room spinning even more harshly and the pain in your skull increasing. 

“No, Steven. My mom and dad are on that phone.” You cry out, your voice cracking halfway through the sentence. He doesn’t say anything for a moment. What could he do about it? There wasn’t much he could do besides try to comfort you. You try not to cry as you stare down at your lap. Everything about today was shitty. There was no fucking way you were going to get your phone back. You lost everything in a span of ten minutes.

"Did he touch you?" Marc asks. You only knew it was him by his accent, you don’t bother to look at him. 

"What?" You breathe out a humorless chuckle. "Of course he fucking did look at my clothes! How did I look to you when you saw me in the stairwell?"

"No! Did he touch you." He repeats. You look up at his tone of voice. His jaw is clenched and you know that constipated look from anywhere. He is pissed and concerned. You understood what he meant as the words settled into your mind, you don’t like the implications of it but you were glad that he cares enough to ask about it.

"No." You sniffle. He slowly nods and leans back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “He took my phone, Marc.” You cry out, tears pooling in your eyes as your voice breaks. “He took my phone.” 

“What do you need?” He asks. What can he do to make it better? You know the two people that you want the most is an impossible request but you still plead for them.

“I want my mom and dad,” You cry.

"Do you need Steven or Layla?" Marc asks, “I can call Layla over right now if you want-”

"No, I want my mom." You cut him off. You desperately want her hugs and back rubs and quiet reassurances about how everything is going to be okay. You want to be a kid again and be in her arms. You want to be away from this, you want to be cut free from the tangled strings you’re too knotted in. You stifle your sobs as you look down onto your lap and let the tears run down your face. You hear the sound of his chair scraping against the wooden floor as he stands. 

“I’ll get you your pajamas from your apartment.” He says. “We’ll get you a shower and then you can sleep.” You sniffle in reply and listen to him walk around the table and crouch down next to you. You turn your head to look at him. 

“We’ll get you ready for bed. I just need the key to your place, kid.” He says. Your lip wobbles as you pat your pockets for your keys. You pull out the Ziploc bag that contains the shredded pieces of the Eye of Horus and the sight of it causes more tears to stream down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, Steven.” You mumble. “He shredded up the paper you gave me.” You place it on the table and pat your other jeans pocket and pull out the orange lanyard and put it into Marc's outstretched hand. Your fingers brush against his calloused palm, warmth spreading through your fingertips as you retract your hand. 

“Steven says not to worry about it.” He says as he stands. You sniffle and nod. “I’m going to be right back, you won’t even know that I’m gone. I’ll be back before you know it.” The words were meant to sound comforting but it causes your heart to ache. You don’t want to be left alone even though you know that they would be only gone for a few minutes at the most. Your lip wobbles and you gently suck it in as you slowly nod so you wouldn’t hurt your head as much. You listen to Marc's footsteps against the hard floor and the door unlock before opening and shutting behind him. You were alone. You breathe in a sharp breath, groaning as your muscles expand and cause more pain to your torso. How can you be injured one moment, pass out, and wake to healed injuries and the ghost pain of them? The answer was clear with everything that has been going on, you weren’t stupid. Whatever deity is fucking with you decided that you weren’t going to die today and heal you. Which doesn’t make much sense.

Why would they hold you out the window five stories above pavement a few days prior and the next, allow you to get your ass kicked and save you from life threatening injuries? What the fuck did they want from you? Why would they treat you like you were just a mouse to them and proceed to heal you? What was their end goal to this torment? You weren’t going to get your questions answered anytime soon so for now, you let it go. Part of you wishes that they would have let you die rather than heal you. You lean forward and place your head on the table. The space you laid on was clear enough that you wouldn’t spread any dampness to Stevens books or papers. Your eyes focus on the plastic baggie with the stained pink and wet shredded pieces of paper. 

Slowly, you close your eyes. You were far past ready to sleep. Maybe you’ll be lucky enough that you will wake up and realize that all of today was just a terrible nightmare. Your breathing slows down and the tug of sleep begins to pull you under and right before you slip into the dreamless landscape or another ruthless nightmare of being choked to death and Marc ignoring your frantic calls, a voice stops you. 

“C’mon kid, get up.” Marc says. Your eyes flutter open and you blink blearily at the man standing next to you with a bundle of clothing held in his arms. “It’s shower time and then you get to sleep.” You groan as you sit up. You don’t remember hearing him come back into the apartment but yet here he stood with an unusually soft look in his eyes. You narrow your eyes at him, wondering if you mixed up his voice with Stevens and your ears are messing with you. Steven never called you kid before, only Marc has. 

“Let’s go, kid.” He says and you scrape back your chair against the wooden floor as you stand. You follow him to the bathroom and he sets the clothes on the edge of the sink before turning the handle for the shower. He holds his hand underneath the running water until he must think that it's warm enough for you. You lean against the wall as you watch him grab a towel from the rack and place it on the back of the toilet so you could easily have it accessible. You shiver as he turns towards you. You were far past ready to get out of your uniform and get rid of the sticky feeling of the clothes clinging to your body. 

“We’ll be right outside the door if you need anything.” He says. “Steven is worrying that you might slip and hit your head again.” You hum and he slips past you and closes the door behind him. You could tell that he was worrying too and was just using Stevens motherly nature as an excuse. You peel off your shirt, hissing between your teeth as your arms stretch above your head and the muscles on your side move. You drop the shirt to the tiled floor and stare at yourself in the mirror, trying to get a better look at your side. It was smooth skin and not a single bruise or darken color of your skin in sight. You would have thought that you were bruising internally since visible bruises take at least a day to show up but, the lack of cuts on your face and head said otherwise.

You unbutton your pants and push it down your legs and kick off your shoes. Your work uniform is far past saving, there is no way that you can get rid of the blood stains. It was another thing you lost today. Although it was just clothes, you still had to tell your manager that you ‘lost’ your shirt so you could get a new one; and you have to go thrifting for another pair of pants and shoes since this pair was going to be too gross to wear and you don’t want to go through another night of scrubbing and rising like you did when you got ambushed. You step into the shower and sigh as the warm water hits your feet. You know that you’re going to have to stick your head underneath the running water to get the blood off of your scalp, but that doesn’t mean that you were looking forward to the inevitable pain of the water hitting where the crack on your skull should be. 

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to stick your head underneath the running water just to rip off the band-aid and try to get used to the pain without too much procrastination. You stepped underneath the shower head and cried out loudly as the stream of water hit your skin and caused a huge flare of pain from your head. You squeeze your eyes shut, clinging to the shower curtain as you hear nothing but the water dripping off of your body and into the porcelain tub. You try to hold on through the feeling of vertigo and the pain of the water on top of your head as you force yourself to stand in one spot. If you were to leave, you would just have to re-experience the same pain of stepping underneath the shower-head. You hear the loud yell of your name on the other side of the bathroom door. 

“I’m fine!” You yell, the sound was too loud for you in the small space. Your head seems to be an echo of dropping a baine on the kitchen floor and the sound of it never ends. Your heart beats hard against your chest and you open your eyes and stare down at the dirty water as it runs off of your legs and down the drain. You swallow and try to get used to the harsh pain erupting from your head and focus on the water. You watch it until it becomes clear and the temperature is cold. You turn the handle, shutting off the shower before you step out of it and dry yourself off carefully. You put your clothes on before you kick your dirty clothing to the side so the men wouldn’t trip over it. 

You stand in front of the foggy mirror before you wipe it away with your towel and drop it onto the pile of clothes tossed aside. You look better, but only by a smidge if you were completely honest.  A yawn leaves you, your eyes feeling heavy and your bones exhausted. You pull open the door and the first thing you see was Steven nervously pacing back and forth before stopping in his tracks and giving you a sad look. 

“Do you want something to eat, dove?” He asks. You were too upset to eat, besides if you could you were sure that you would throw up any food you manage to swallow. You still felt nauseous and awful.

“No,” You say. “I’m just tired.” You want to sleep and fall into a short coma- or even better a forever coma. You walk towards the bed and listen to his footsteps follow you. 

“Okay,” He hums. “Do you want me to read to you? I bought some new books.” You reach the bed and peel back the covers and slide underneath them, laying your damp head on the pillow. He stood next to the bed before he brought the covers up to your chin, his eyes seem to show more concern the longer he looks at you. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks softly. You don’t feel up to the task of talking about the events of today and receiving more guilty looks from the men. 

“You got new books?” You ask instead and he purses his lips. 

“I did.” He replies, “I went out to the bookstore and ran some errands today.” You were glad that he doesn’t pressure you into talking like Layla did a couple of times. 

“Oh?”

“I bought some melatonin and sleepy tea for us. I bought some groceries for dinner, there's this new recipe I want to try. It’s cauliflower crust pizza, I saw the recipe on the food network.” You try to smile at him but you think it turns out more of a grimace. At least one of you had a good day. 

“What books did you get?”

“Dr. Seuss.” He says. You almost laugh. That was a joke the two of you made before everything went to shit, you never thought that he would commit to it.

“You bought Dr. Seuss books?”

“We talked about it.” He says. “I thought that it might bring you comfort and you could take a break from my boring Egyptology books.”

“I’ll always find your books interesting, Steven.” You say. He gives you a doe eyed look and you nearly find the energy to smile. “Did you get Green Eggs and Ham?” He nods. “Can you read that one to me?” He shoots you a smile before swiveling on his heel and disappearing off to somewhere to get the book.  You shift your gaze to the ceiling. It was weird looking at something that you see everyday after a traumatic event happens. Part of you expects that it would be different like the color of the ceiling would no longer be white but purple or orange. But why would it look different if it was just you who went through something life altering?

“Okay,” He says as he approaches with the bright orange book in hand and a smile on his face. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls open the covers, the sound of the paper bending with the glue causes your heart to ping. He bought a brand new book just to read to you. His words were soft as he spoke, the sound of it causing your eyes to slowly close and his tone to lull you to sleep. Nobody had read this book to you since you were younger than eight. Your dad used to read you this author's stories for bedtime and this was one of your favorites. You listen to Steven as he turns pages and he laughs softly as some of the statements and questions asked in it. The sound makes you feel safe.

You crack your eyes open as you feel the dip of the mattress rise and the sound of the book being shut and placed on the nightstand next to you. 

“Steven. Do you think Taweret helped my parents into the Field of Reeds?” You ask quietly. You don’t know if he heard you or not. But you watch as he stares at something. You figure that he would tell you that he doesn’t know because there was no true way of knowing where someone or something goes after death. He would try to be comforting and honest in his answer. But it was Marc who replied.

“I know she did.” He says. His Chicago accent was soft. It was so unusual that your eyes almost open all the way just so you can see his face and be sure that it was him. “You might have a concussion.” He says. “Steven thinks so; and before you start, even though there are no injuries on you, you seem to be affected by them as if they’re actually there. It would be best if Steven or I wake you every couple of hours just in case.” You hum and yawn. You weren’t looking forward to being woken up through the night, but whatever helps them feel better you would be okay with. 

“Okay.” You mumble. 

“Steven, how long does the kid need to be woken up?” Jake asks. Your eyes open a fraction wider in surprise, you didn’t expect him to front to say good night to you. He pulls out Stevens phone from his pocket.

“Dos horas.” He says. You watch as he scrolls through the phone and you assume he’s setting an alarm. “We’ll be back in two hours to wake you?” He says. You blink at him tiredly.

“Where are you going?” You ask. You want them to stay with you, not to do whatever bullshit Khonshu wants Jake to do. Of course the fucking bird would pull them away from you after you got attacked.

“I have a job I need to do.” He replies as he places the phone into his jeans pocket. “Sleep. They’ll be back before you know it.” You watch him through half shut eyes as he walks to the door. There was nothing you could say to stop him so you mumble something that you hope is coherent enough for him to understand. It could be a statement, but you meant it more as a warning. 

“Be safe.” Whatever it came out as, causes his footsteps to falter just for a moment before he continues his pace to the coat rack and shrugs on Stevens jacket. Your eyes close as the door opens and locks behind him. You were nervous for them. You were anxious that they weren’t going to return but you know that your fretting would do nothing but keep you from resting. You had one thing going for you today and that was a nap. Finally, your exhaustion pulls you under and into a dreamless sleep.

The next time you wake was by a hand gently cupping the side of your face and a soft voice was waking you from your slumber. You open your eyes, moonlight filtered in through the cracks of the curtains and the sight of it was too much for you. You groan as you blink several times and shift onto your right side to take in the person standing next to the bed without the light blinding you.

“Despierta.” Jake says. “I’m still on my mission, but I came back to check on you.” You hum tiredly as he removes his hand from your face and brings it to his side. “They’ll be back in a bit.” He adds. “Go on and rest.”

You must have closed your eyes because the second time you’re woken up was by someone gently shaking your shoulders and cupping your cheek once more. The moon was higher in the sky and the curtains were firmly shut, only a sliver of the moon shone into the flat. You squint into the flat, Gus’s tank was a beacon in the darkness of the apartment. Jake stood next to you in his Moon Knight suit, the cape brushes against your hand as he bends down slightly.

“Lo tengo.” He says. He sets something on the nightstand next to you and you turn your gaze away from him and towards whatever he placed. “I got it.” His fingers rub against your cheek bone for a moment before he removes his hand and stretches his arms over his head. You push yourself up on your side to get a better look at what he brought and you ignore the pain your body alerted you to. You reach up and flick on the nightstand light. You blink away the sudden spots as your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness. A small gasp leaves you at the sight of your phone, your screen was visibly cracked and more scratched than you remember it being but still it was next to you. 

You reach for it. Your fingers fumble with the device for a split second until it is firmly in your grasp and your finger rests on the power button to click it and see your parents smiling faces. You click it and wait for the screen to show them, but nothing happens. You frown and click it again but once more the screen was black. Maybe it was off? You hold down the button and wait for the loading screen of your device to appear but nothing works. You could feel panic rising in your chest and threatening to suffocate you as you hold it down again to see if you just let off the pressure a little too early. The screen was still dark as you turned it over and forcefully took off the case before opening up the back and checking to see if the battery was still in it. There was a small rectangular box resting in it, the temperature of it was cold as if it was turned off a while ago. The SD card was still resting in it. You turn it back over and hold down the power button and still the results are the same. 

You didn’t know you were crying until a loud sob left you. You hold the phone to your chest as Steven rushes forward and crouches down next to the bed as he frantically asks you what’s wrong. 

“It won’t turn on.” You cry. He gives you a sad look and places his hand gently onto yours to comfort you. You sob loudly, the sound of it hurting your own ears as your tears trail down the sides of your face and dampen Stevens' pillow even more. You clutch your phone tightly as Steven says something that you’re unable to make out through your cries. Your chest aches and your shoulders shake as warm tears stream out of the corners of your eyes and the ceiling becomes blurry. At some point, Steven let go of your hand and walked around the bed before resting next to you and hugging you as you breakdown. 

You don’t know how long you cried, but you know that throughout it Steven held you and softly rubbed your arm in comfort. When numbness settled in and the tears were no longer running and exhaustion was once again creeping in, you turned your head to look at Steven. You saw that his eyes were red and puffy. He was crying with you. He shoots you a wobbly smile that comes out more like a grimace; but you don’t say anything about what he looks like and neither does he. You turn your body to your side, ignoring the pain and ache from your body as you bury your face into his chest with your broken phone pressed into yours. He wraps his arms around you and hugs you, his fingers tracing circles into your back as he whispers calming words of affirmation. You close your eyes and breathe in the comforting scent of your neighbor. 

For the third time that night, you let your exhaustion pull you under into a dreamless sleep to escape your reality and be temporarily free from the tangled strings you’re knotted too tightly in.

—

Taglist:

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#moonknight #moonknight x teen!reader #moonknight series #post moonknight season 01 #marc spector x teen!reader #steven grant x teen!reader #Jake lockely x teen!reader #Layla el faouly x teen!reader #khonshu #khonshu x teen!reader #marc spector x you #jake lockely x you #steven grant x you #layla el faouly x you #platonic!reader #reader insert #x reader #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockely #layla el faouly

[p-taryn-dactyl]

Dry Your Tears and Bury Your Fears

a/n: hi! okay so this is for @beautifulbows924 Moon Knight writing special! based on the prompt: “I know that you’re not okay! So stop telling me that you are!”

word count: 1.2k

warning(s): angsty?; title doesn't make sense but it sounds cool doesn't it? yeah it does don't lie to yourself; emotional; the ending is bad sorry

pairing(s): platonic!reader x layla el faouly

It had been days since you last saw your best friends. Now here you were, in Steven's apartment, reading books about ancient Egypt, occasionally feeding the fish, and the most entertaining of all: lying on the floor, tossing things into the air and attempting to catch them. Some part of you was hurt that they didn't bring you along on this mission to save the world but the other part argued that Layla and Marc (and Steven) needed the alone time. To either heal their relationship or form a bridge for them to move on.

It still sucked being alone though. Even the gold-painted actor that Steven talked too looked less shiny than usual. Yes, you were aware of how stupid that sounded.

Today started out like any other day in the crazy world you lived in, news of the skies literally turning, stars and constellations shifting as they were millenia ago. You merely shrugged at the news, continuing to shovel cheerios in your mouth. You intensely stared at your phone, willing it to call. Another pastime that had joined your daily routine. Watch the phone. Read the book of the dead. Remember to feed the fish. Lie on the floor. Realize that you didn't feed the fish, only opened the food container. Proceed to actually feed said fish. Watch the phone.

Of course, you thought about calling her. But with what she had told you about Marc, and what you had pieced together yourself, you had no idea the situation you could hypothetically be calling her in. Sighing, you collapsed on Steven's couch, about to turn on the TV when rapid knocking pounded against the door. Hesitantly, you grabbed the dagger Layla had given you before she left, clutching it against your chest as you leaned up against the wall, preparing to open the door.

"[Name?] [Name], please tell me you're in there!" The sound of Layla's voice was like taking a gasping breath after being under water. You practically flung the door open, dagger loose in your hand. The excitement you felt to see Layla melted away once you realized that...that she was alone. Layla noticed your eyes scrutinizing the empty spot where Steven or Marc normally stood. It seemed like your thoughts were running a million miles in your head, each one desperate to cause you the most worry.

Did Marc leave again? Was Steven okay? Is Ammit out? What's going on? Why did Layla have blood on her jacket? Who's blood was it? Oh gods, what if it's hers?

At the last thought, you shook yourself out of your confusion, grabbing Layla's arm, pulling her into the apartment. She gave no resistance. You pushed her into a chair, rummaging through Steven's drawers, grabbing the first aid kit. You, with a sense of frantic calm. cleaned her wounds, worry clenching around your throat when she made no noise or movement when the antiseptic pad wiped away the grime from her cuts. After you placed bandages on the wounds, gave her a glass of water, and gave yourself a mental pep talk, you dragged a chair to sit across from her. Layla gave you a small smile, her attempt to stop you from what you were about to ask. It didn't work.

"You can tell me what happened when you're ready, all I care about is you. Are you okay?" She swallowed and looked away from your intense stare to look at her hands clasped in her lap. When she looked up, she smiled, not reaching her eyes.

"I'm okay."

And that's the answer you got every time you asked. When you found her with a book upside down in her hands, eye's unfocused.

"I'm okay."

When she was sitting on the floor of the shower, water gone cold, her gaze piercing the wall.

"I'm okay."

When you came back from shopping to find her standing on the window's ledge, fiddling with the wedding ring she wore on a necklace.

"I'm okay."

It was a week and a half since she returned when you broke. You were tired of the gazes that seemed to pierce the air, tired of the tight, pained smiles - like she was constantly containing a scream, you were tired of your best friend lying to you. You were tired, and terrified, of the chasm growing between the two of you with every day that passed.

You were setting the table, still in Steven's apartment - both of you seemingly not able to leave the crowded space, while Layla cooked in the kitchen, the smell of falafel filling the air. You took a deep breath when you noticed Layla's staring off into space again. Before you could even ask, Layla smiled one of her tight lipped smiles.

"I'm okay-" Before she could finish, you had slammed the plates on the table, leaning on the wood as you practically yelled at your best friend.

"I know you're not okay! So stop telling me that you are!" Layla looked shocked, stopping all movements as she looked at you with wide eyes, "Why do you insist on pretending with me? What happened in Egypt? Do you not trust me? Is that it?" Your voice broke with every word as the realization that Layla didn't trust you completely set in. You guessed it made sense, you weren't some badass Egyptian avatar or an excitable nerdy Egyptologist. You had no place in her adventures. You turned around, pinching the bridge of your nose, angry at yourself for lashing out. You went to walk away, to calm down, when a hand grasped your arm. It was loose, like Layla wanted you to stay but wouldn't stop you if you walked away. You sighed and turned around. Despite her loose grip, Layla looked desperate, her eyes wide and brimming with tears.

"He's dead," her voice cracked as the tears started to roll, "Marc, Ste-Steven, they're gone. They're both gone. Harrow, he, he shot them." The air in the room went cold. You blinked. Layla's sob broke your frozen stance, and you pulled her into a hug, her head resting on your chest. You felt her tears soak into your sweater, your own tears pooling in your eyes. After what felt like hours, you pulled away, cupping her face in your hands. You felt a determination rise within you as you read the emotions behind her eyes.

"Layla, it's not your fault. Whatever happened, however it happened, it is not your fault." She choked back another sob, shaking her head.

"The last- the last thing I said was, oh gods [Name] I accused him of killing my father." She put her face in her hands, sobbing. You wrapped your arms around her once more. You rocked her back and forth, murmuring reassurances. A thought, insane but viable, popped in your mind.

"Layla, we live in a world where Egyptian gods roam and Norse ones fight aliens - we can find a way to bring him back." Your statement sounded crazy but you believed it. Layla pulled back, her watery eyes looking into yours.

"But we would need Khonshu and he- the other gods trapped him in stone." You shrugged, the pain of loosing a friend fueling your confidence.

"Then I guess we have to free him."

#layla el faouly #roses2kwc #platonic!reader #layla el faouly x reader #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight #khonshu #marvel fanfiction

[gh0st-write]

MoonKnight Masterlist

☾ Nothing Yet!!

#moon knight x reader #moon knight #khonshu #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley #marc spector #marc spector x reader #Steven grant #steven grant x reader #layla el faouly #layla el faouly x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #platonic x reader