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yoursecondfirstlove · 2 years

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🌘Little muffin🌔

P.2 P.3 P.4 P.5

Moon boys x f!reader

(Steven Grant x reader, Marc Spector x reader , Jake Lockley x reader)

(Y/n) thinks Steven is just the cutest little thing leaving Steven a blushing mess and Marc and Jake seething

Word count: 1598 words

Warnings: f!reader, light description of violence/gore, reader has powers (never specified what), FLUFF, Steven being a little cutie, Marc and Jake being jealous little goblins

(Y/n) had been working with Marc for a while. If he (or anyone else that knew her for that matter) needed anything he called her in. She was powerful, powerful enough to hold her own against any avenger, and while Marc knew he could handle most things himself he always went running to her when he needed things to be easy, when he couldn’t afford plans to not go without a hitch. That’s exactly what got her here, poking around some documents recording some ancient Egyptian structure.

It’s not that she didn’t like working with Marc, quite the opposite. Obviously she thought he was handsome as anything and she loved working with someone as capable as he is, in this line of work you get pretty damn used to incompetence. She did wish he was a little more open with her though. They’d been working together for years and she only recently found out about his DID.

It happened a few months ago. He’d called her in for some random job or another, Marc had been surrounded but assured (Y/n) he’d be fine and she had to leave him to do what she needed to do, she was reluctant of course but the urgency in his voice convinced her. The second she was finished she rushed back to come to his aid to discover he didn’t need it, body’s littered the ground that surrounded him, clearly beaten with animalistic aggression. Then she saw his face, just looking at him she already knew he wasn’t Marc. His eyes were so primal, she knew Marc, she knew despite his situation he considered it incredibly important to retain some level of composure. But the eyes she saw held no composure, only untamed rage. After a moment of staring at each other his eyes rolled back and his demeanour changed entirely. He looked around, disguising the fact he had only just discovered the scene for himself. “We gotta go, come on” he said as be began speed walking away. (Y/n) refused to leave the incident unaddressed “who was that?” She was hot on his heels as he attempted to get away from her “who was who?” He shot back dismissively. (Y/n) caught Marc’s wrist in her grasp, he whipped around to face her, “I’ve known you far too long for you to pull the wool over my eyes now” he knew he was trapped so he told her everything.

She likes knowing what was up with him of course, he was her friend, a friend she had a massive crush on, but her friend nonetheless. She hadn’t become acquainted with the rest however, she had never seen Jake outside the of the (ahem) “incident” and she had never met Steven at all, but safe to say she was eager to. So imagine her delight when a task needed a certain level of Egyptology knowledge and they had no choice but to have Steven tag in.

(Y/n) sat lounged in an arm chair, completely held together by mending stitches, in a beaten down flat that (Y/n) had taken as a kind of safe house, filled with weapons and “trophies” she had taken from an memorable foes she’d taken down. The place quite frankly was a mess, a mess of papers and stolen files, the table was heavily battered and messily repaired from the times she’d had to use it as a shield from any attacks, hell the bed wasn’t much of a bed at all, it was a mattress placed atop storage drawers and pushed up to use the wall as a makeshift headboard. Some would say it was grim but (y/n) would persist that it simply had personality.

A familiar patterned knock echoed from the door before it opened and Marc came in. “What’s going on” he knew the look on her face, her bottom lip grasped in her teeth, he eyebrows furrowed, she even had her leg extended to rest her foot on the wall, marked black from how many times she’s been in this exact position before. Despite her clear irritation Marc still had to stop a moment to just…look at her. He had been silently pining for her for damn near as long as he’d known her and seeing her all grumping and brooding made a small smile too hard to resist. “What’s wrong with you?” He asked, a slight laugh caught in his tone. She looked up at him “this shit is a puzzle” an amused scoff tore out Marc’s throat “what?” (Y/n) swung her leg back from over the arm of her chair and stood up walking over to her war damaged table, she pointed to what appeared to be some blueprints, they were old and tattered, she slid them over to him. He looked at them and his brain could hardly put together what in gods name he was looking at. “This is where your artefact is being kept, but, the whole building is a puzzle” Marc turned his gaze to her incredulously “the whole building?” “Yes” “a puzzle?” “the whole building is a puzzle yes” “the WHOLE building?” “Jesus fuck Marc yes, the whole fucking building.” Marc put both his hands on his face and groaned “okay…yeah okay we’ll figure this out” he said as he dawned a tight jawed thinking face. After a few seconds his expression softened as he abruptly said “no.” (Y/n) immediately figured he must have been talking to one of the others “what are they saying?” She leaned in, eager to hear any solutions. Marc caught her gaze with his own before looking away “Steven says he could figure it out…” oh if she wasn’t excited for a solution before she certainly is now. “Perfect! Let him at it!” Marc quickly reeled his head back as if it was the most ridiculous suggestion he’d ever heard “no! No that’s a bad idea” (y/n) squinted at him suspiciously “why?” Marc let out a heavy breath “because…because if you meet him or Jake like…officially things they just. They just get complicated.” She stood for a second, she didn’t care if it got complicated, not that she even thought it would, all that would change is she’d have two more incredibly good looking friends. Marc knew better though, he knew that from what his other two headmates had seen they too had developed their own crushes on her. Whispered praises of how amazing or beautiful she was in certain moments from Steven and frustrated shouting from Jake to ‘just fuckin kiss ‘er already!’ No, he knew if either of them got to actually interact with her they’d only become more helpless to her charm. That being said, he didn’t possess the knowledge to decipher this bitch of a puzzle but with how complicated it looks it would even take Steven a while, if Steven tried to solve it from the inside he’d run out of energy quick and they can’t afford to go slow enough for him to recharge. In all honesty Marc didn’t have much of a choice. It was at this point Marc realised he hadn’t spoke. In a while and (y/n) was just stood looking at him expectantly, he glowered for a moment, clearly frustrated as he finally huffed out “shit! Fine okay, fine” immediately surrendering control.

(Y/n) felt her excitement bubble up as Marc’s stance and demeanour shifted instantly. He brought his hands from his hips to lightly intertwine in front of him, his face softened more than she’d ever seen and he brought his legs in making his stance less boxy and more meek. He politely smiled before giving Marc a sweet “cheers mate!” He immediately got to work examining the tatter blueprints. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion but not like angry brooding look Marc gets, more like a kitten looking at fish on an ipad. He continues to examine the documents, occasionally scrunching his face a little and pointing at certain parts as he scrutinised them. The entire time (y/n) stared at him, she obviously knew this man wasn’t Marc but the different was staggering and the entire time she only thought one thing. After a while Steven looked up at her “my…this one’s a doozy innit?” He smiled at her. Before thinking she knew there was something she had to vocalise “you’re just a little muffin aren’t you” Steven was immediately taken aback “sorry?” (Y/n) laughed “you’re just the cutest thing in the world” immediately Stevens ears set on fire, red heat rose in his face as he laughed, completely shocked, he had never in his life received this kind of attention from any woman, especially not a woman that looked like, well….HER! “I-“ he began but interrupted himself with another huff of shock “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean” (y/n) just giggled at him making his blush even hotter.

To break out of his flushed state he decided to change the subject “you know it might be a little easier to read these if I…” he pulled a pair of reading classes out of his inner pocket and slid them up the bridge of his nose returning to his examination of the documents. (Y/n) broke even more “oh my god! You have little glasses?” She brought her hands to her face giggling a little “you’re too cute I can’t handle it!” Marc and Jake were screaming ‘give me back the body! Solve it from the inside’ ‘why the fuck do YOU get all this gushin’ Steven ignored them entirely, he may have been enjoying the attention from her just a bit too much.

A/n: should I make this a series? I’m not sure tbh

#steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #moon boys x reader #x reader #f!reader

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apples4day · 26 days

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BLAME || Yandere! TDWT x Fem! Reader

1/2 EPISODE ONE (Walk Like An Egyptian)

Prologue is on my page, part two IS out!!

Chapter 1 & 2 are very boring sorry🤷‍♀️

"Season three of total drama folks! The world is gonna be mine" Chris began as a bus pulled up next to him, he continued talking as the doors opened. Explaining how everyone inside the bus will be competing for a million dollars around the globe and then introducing everyone as they walked out.

One by one, they left the bus, each with their own pizzazz. "Courtney, Duncan, Heather, Gwen, Leshawna!" He announced pointing to each of them as he said their name. Heather stopped to tick off Gwen, causing Gwen to run into Heather.

"Are there reserved seats? I.E can I have one not behind heathers pony hair pony tail?" Gwen pointed to Heathers hair before putting her hands on her hips. Heather turned around and crossed her arms, "um! My extensions are HUMAN hair." Duncan smiled and decided to reply to Heathers comment, "you learn something new everyday." This earned a giggle from Gwen. Courtney, who was standing next to Duncan, grimaced. Chris continued to speak once the moment had ended, introducing the next few people.

"Lindsay, Owen, DJ, and Harold." Only Lindsay walked out which made Chris raise a brow. "Guys?" He asked, hoping they would come out. DJ came out restraining Owen, something about Owen being scared of flying. Harold began geeking out about phobias and Noah followed behind Harold with a snarky remark. Chris smiled,

"And returning favorites! Noah, Cody, and.." Chris was cut off by Ezekiel pretending to be 'all that' and being odd. Izzy peeked out the bus and jumped onto Ezekiel's shoulders, causing them both to fall over. "Yup! Izzy's back. Also returning this season...Tyler!" Tyler walked out and struck a pose before falling over. Chris continued.

"And the co-host of total drama after math, Bridgette!" Bridgette also fell over. Now there was a pile of people on the floor on top of each other. Ezekiel, at the bottom of the pile, began speaking "Yo Chris you forgot to introduce me." Chris sighed, "and Ezekiel."

"And now to mix things up and keep it all fresh, we're adding three new competitors! He's an honor roll student with a diplomat for a dad and an amazing ability charm the pants off most species. Alejandro!" A tan Latin man with a red shirt and a necklace walked out confidently, "perhaps..I can assist." He lifted Bridgette and Izzy up, which had them in awe over his beauty. Bridgette panicked, "I-I-I have a boyfriend!" Alejandro smirked and gave a hand to the boys still on the floor, "and amigos, please! Allow me." They both seemed impressed and a bit hesitant, Tyler backed away, "I like girls."

Chris continued to introduce, "and she's a sugar addicted super fan with sixteen total drama blogs, Sierra!" A purple haired woman in green clothes walked out looking excited, "oh my gosh! I love you guys! And this is the greatest day of my life!! Anybody got a paper bag I can breathe into?" She panted in excitement and squealed, her movements rushed.

She rushed over to Cody with the biggest smile on her face ever, "oh my gosh Cody! I've dreamt of this moment..only you weren't wearing a shirt!" Cody looked scared as she leaned in slightly more while shaking. Chris let out a chuckle before continuing, "next up is a clumsy, plushie loving, cat owning girl...Y/n!" He didn't get much from your video, having no idea how to introduce you. All he saw was you struggling with the camera, a collection of plushies on your bed, and a cat knocking the camera over before the video shut down.

You walked out, an awkward smile on your face as you waved slowly to everyone. You had manners, as your mother had taught you, you should shake people's hands. "Hello..nice to meet you all. Nice shirt Chris," you shook his hand and he smiled as always. Making your way next to DJ and smiling and nodding at him politely. He did the same.

A big grey plane pulled up, looking like it was gonna fall apart at any moment. "What the.." Duncan exclaimed. You grimaced. "Excuse me..but I'd like to express some concerns about the safety of our plane!" Courtney raised her hand and looked skeptical. Chris smiled, "relax it's perfectly safe! Now boarding!" A piece of the plane fell off and you blinked awkwardly.

Tugging on DJ, "if we die on that plane, throw my phone in the ocean." You joked. Earning a laugh from him. Owen began panicking and mumbling, Chris' smile dropped and he pulled out a frying pan. Everyone looked amused, wondering what was gonna happen, Chris knocked Owen out. "Anybody else got a problem with it?" Immediately everyone started complimenting it. "Don't judge a book by its cover!" You said, scratching your head knowing damn well this plane wasn't much better on the inside.

"Nowww boarding on our voyage to a million big ones!" Chris pointed to the camera, "we're saving you a first class seat for all the action, right here, on total drama world tour!" The cameras cut. "Seriously?" Someone said. Everyone began walking onto the plane, you accidentally stepping on Heathers heel. She gave you a dirty look, "watch where you're going fre-" before pausing as if she realized something. "Actually..it's totally fine don't worry about it!" You raised a brow and divided the word "okay" into two like you were skeptical, "oh-kay?"

New girl seems nice enough, better get on her good side to make an alliance!

Everyone got inside right as Gwen said, "singing really? I thought Chris was joking about that!" Raising her hands up.

Courtney smiled, "well I don't have a problem with it." Leshawna groaned and gave her a look, "yeah cause you LIKE singing.."

Duncan pointed to himself with his thumb. "Well I don't! Girls sing," he pointed somewhere and then flapped his arms like a bird as he continued, "little birdies sing, Duncan's do not sing!" He crossed his arms.

Harold's eyes wandered over to Duncan, "think I'll get to beatbox?" He said with a coarse voice, only for Duncan to shut him down. "I'll beat you if you try!" He threatened.

"Why are you doing this to us?" Heather pointed accusingly at Chris and snarled after speaking. Chris shrugged. "Singing reality shows are huge! And the worse the singing, the higher the ratings WHICH is why on this show there will be no vocal coaches or rehearsals or warning!" Everyone looked annoyed and began speaking above each other, you included. Chris raised his arms.

"Anywho! This is the dining area where you'll enjoy in flight meals!" Chris began his 'tour' and Ezekiel spoke up. "Not for long ay! Prepare to lose to Zeke!" He pointed to himself and furrowed his brows while smiling like he was some devious gremlin. Gwen looked unimpressed, "okay..so not trying to be mean here but..you do know you got voted out first last time right?"

You chimed in, "yeah..don't be so sure of yourself 'Zeke', don't get your hopes up." Emphasis on Zeke, as if you were mocking him. Noah let out a small chuckle along with Gwen. "Word! And I spent every minute since making sure that don't happen again. I'm stronger, faster, smarter.." He got cut off by you and Chris speaking over each other.

"A lot more talkative," you said while Chris said "chattier, flabbier, can't-shut-upier, now zip it and let me finish the tour so we can get this bird in flight!" Once Chris finished he looked over at you, "glad someone agrees with me!" Waving his hands in the air.

Leshawna raised her finger up, "is there a ladies room?" Chris pointed behind him, "just through there," with a smile that screamed mischief. "Good! Cause I gotta make a deposit." Leshawna made her way to the bathroom. She seemed to be yelling inside the bathroom, something about privacy.

After Leshawna came out of the bathroom, Chris began talking again. "Losing teams will enjoy luxurious economy class accommodations between destinations!" He gestured to the room you were all standing in. You bit your lip as if you were thinking before making a small remark, "nothing a few plushies can't make comfortable." Chris raised a brow, "I thought we said nothing extra!" He sighed.

DJ looked down at you, "mind sharing some? Seems like that'll be the only sense of comfort in this room." He spoke softly and as if he wasn't looking forward to staying here. Lindsay looked around, "But where are our beds?" You spoke up again, "seems like we'll be sleeping like Owen." You pointed over to him and everyone looked over at him. "As you can see, Owen is demonstrating your sleeping situation!" Chris said letting out an evil laugh.

"That does not look comfortable," Heather said. "No comfort for losers," Chris replied. "Safety harnesses and an emergency exit! But no comfort here, here, or here!" He pointed to different areas of the room. Sierra stepped forward laughed oddly, "oh em gee Chris! I am just L.O.L!" She continued laughing as Ezekiel spoke. "We should hit the winners compartment ey cause I ain't never gonna sit back here ha! Never." Raising his arm and swiping it in front of him.

Noah looked over at him and waved the air as if he was shooing something away, "is never your policy on mouthwash to, homeschool?" Ezekiel must of stunk. (Ewww smelly) You laughed and Noah looked over at you before pursing his lips awkwardly. Chris led the way to the winners area, in the process you ended up walking next to Duncan somehow instead of DJ.

"Not enjoying this so far?" You began a conversation with him. Duncan looked down at you and sighed, "not even close." You let out a light laugh crossed your arms, "who knows? Maybe it'll get better!" He glanced at you again, "I doubt that, you're oddly enthusiastic. Someone's gonna kill that soon, trust me." He laughed like he was gonna enjoy you becoming hopeless.

"I'm not like you alt kid, chill." You replied jokingly, this earned a genuine, non evil laugh from him. People began getting accommodated in the winners area, you and Duncan included. He sat in a purple chair and you sat in a gold one next to Izzy. Chris smiled at everyone again, "this is the first class cabin! The domain of each weeks winners."

Alejandro talked to Lindsay, "now this is the kind of accommodation ladies deserve!" Lindsay looked around and replied with a thoughtless comment. "There are ladies in first class too?" She said. You spoke up, "I think he meant you sunshine." Lindsay smiled at you and then turned to him with an awkward smile, "oh! Me! You meant me...!" DJ stood next to a crouching Tyler, "that guy is as smooth as mamas gravy!" Tyler looked defeated.

"Lindsays supposed to like me.." This earned a chuckle and head nod from DJ before he said "no one can compete with gravy." Tyler yelled out, "Lindsay I can do a handspring!" You watched in amusement as Tyler failed the handspring and had a rough landing, being the nice(ish) person you are..you made your way over to him and offered him a hand.

"Need some help there?" He accepted and thanked you before turning to Lindsay. "Oh my gosh! Poor...im blanking on his name. Oh! Oh! I know, Alejandro." She said, getting his name completely wrong. Alejandro looked at her with a smile, "that's my name." Lindsay smiled, "and what a nice name! Alejandro..I could say it all day!" Rough..that sucks..You thought while giving Alejandro and Lindsay a mean look before going back to your sweet one.

"Please do!" Alejandro said. Alejandro looked over at you, and you noticed. This ended up with you giving him a disapproving nod which just earned a wink from him.

CONFESSIONAL- HEATHER

"I can see right through that guy!" She lifted a finger up like ☝️🤓 and then looked around. "You know...this extra confessional is a thousand times nicer than talking in the toilet." She said with a smile. Her smile dropped into a frown when Chef began speaking, "maybe for you! I'm trying to prep for a flight here."

"Uh hello? Venting! Shhh!" She shushed him and continued. "Anyway! New guy is SO transparent SO fake SO-" she got cut off by chef.

"So deliciously seductive" he added. Heather was not pleased, "that is exactly the opposite of what I was trying to say!"

"Pretty good looking guy though. I'm just saying!" Heather groaned as chef talked about how good looking Alejandro was. "Ughhh forget this!!"

CONFESSIONAL- HEATHER; ENDED

Lowkey reminded me of "she was so rude and so mean!" Like that audio?? Yk??😭

CONFESSIONAL- Y/N

"Camera in the bathroom? No surprise honestly." You sighed and looked at your nails to look busy, "That new guy? Such a dick! I can't with him already! It's obvious what his plan is, well it isn't gonna work on me! No way!...he's pretty attractive though. But still. I'm in it to win it, no way I'm losing to..to..a man whore!" You crossed your arms.

"I already have a plan though, I'll just be a goody two shoes..to literally everyone. Mirror them, be them, suck up to them. Sadly, I think the most important person to do that to will be Heather or Alejandro. Heather because well...it's obvious from season one of total drama! And Alejandro because he's already on good terms with most people here. After I'm on good terms with them both..I'll get rid of them. Which shouldn't be too hard since by then I'll be on good terms with literally everyone with the way I'm going. So far I've talked to DJ, Duncan, given a helpful hand to Tyler, and a few looks with Alejandro and Noah. Bottom priority is probably Tyler, he seems useless but an extra vote on my side always counts."

You spoke quickly but said a lot. "I'm gonna win this thing!" You made a fist and punched it in the air. Ewww that was kinda cringey.. you thought.

CONFESSIONAL- Y/N; ENDED

Chris continued touring and people looked to be in awe over his living quarter. "Off limits!" He said, you smirked. What do I gotta do to make this guy want me? Some perks gotta come out of that.

Noah looked over at you, "so? What's your deal?" You looked at him, "what?" He sighed.

"You talk like you're comfortable but at the same time when you aren't talking you look like you have a plan to kill someone or like you're brain dead, tell me..are you dumb or smart? Cause no way there's an in between based off your little smirks from time to time." He said to you. You giggled,

"There's no way you can tell that from me smiling, you're reading into it way too much. I just have an active imagination. Plus what's wrong with smiling? Empire State Building for a forehead...'tell me' do you think ANYONE who smiles is either brain dead or ridiculously smart?" You mocked his little 'tell me' comment. Despite saying being nice was your game plan, you couldn't help but notice the skyscraper he had for a forehead.

"Based off your response dear short elf, it's obvious you're brain dead, not a thought behind those magical elf eyes of yours," he snapped, insulting your IQ and height all at once. Calling you a magical elf was just a poke at your height. You let out a laugh, not expecting another person to be able to bicker with you. "Touché, you should get some pants though, in those shorts you look like you'll blow away at any moment." He rolled his eyes at yet another one of your insults.

CONFESSIONAL- HEATHER

Heather began listing the people she no longer had as allies off and calling them threats as well. "My only strategic option is to make friends with the new girls. But pretending to like THAT is gonna be hard. I do not heart the new girls!"

CONFESSIONAL- HEATHER; ENDED

Everyone was now sitting in the cafeteria, you standing next to Leshawna. "And that's pretty much it! I skipped the cargo hold and galley but I'm sure you'll find those exciting destinations later when I accidentally lock you in them!" Chris said, emphasizing accidentally. The plane shook which caused both you and Leshawna to stumble slightly, you grabbed her shoulders to steady her. "You alright?" You asked, she smiled at you. "Yeah, thanks new girl."

Bridgette also fell...right onto Alejandro's lap. "Señorita! Are you okay?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist. Bridgette smiled and looked up at him. "Is the earth moving?" She asked. Izzy replied to her. "Nope! We are! Woo!" Chris began speaking again. "One more thing! I'm sure you remember a little something called elimination ceremony. Takes place right in there my friends." Chris pointed to yet another area.

"If you don't receive a barf bag full of air line issued peanuts-" Ezekiel cut Chris off, "I got a peanut allergy or..more like a sensitivity?" Chris gave him a weird look, "you will be forced to take a drop of shame." Ezekiel tried to speak again before getting grabbed by Chris, "kinda like this!" Ezekiel was shoved out the plane and began chasing after it as we took off.

Chris told him all eliminations are final and waved goodbye.

—————

Skip

"Every second we're getting closer to adventure..and further from mama." DJ said resting his head on his arms. Sierra called out Cody's full name and made a pun out of his birth month. A ding noise was heard and Chris was put in a spot light with a suit and a hat, "whenever you hear that friendly little bell it's musical number time! So..let's hear it!"

Courtney spoke up, "but..what are we supposed to sing?" You added to her sentence, "do we just make it up..?" Chris nodded in approval, "you have to make it up as you go, wouldn't be challenging otherwise now would it?" Courtney smiled like she had been waiting for this her whole life meanwhile you whined like a brat, no one heard luckily.

Your part being with Noah, "come fly with us! Come die with us!"

Chef used the speaker, "enough singing fruit cakes!" He continued to tell you that you were going to Egypt, then insulting the idea of musical numbers not realizing the p.a was still on. "We'll be right back." Chris said looking angry after having his musical idea insulted.

This was NOT proofread.

There will be lots more action between Y/n and her main love interests next chapter. Y/n is hinted to be "short" multiple times through the story by the way sorryyy.

Next chapter will be in a more personal writing style, with less genuine detail and more feelings and characters thoughts.

PART TWO IS OUT. Part 3 is only out on my wattpad. Go read them<3

Every chapter is half an episode🤷‍♀️

This was way longer than I thought it would be with over 3100 words.

chapter one and two are veryyyy boring but chapter three is definitely way better trust me.

Part two ⬇️

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sommerflue-22 · 1 year

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Little Things They Do... (Pt. 2)

Little things they do to show you they love you

Read the other parts: Part 1 // Part 3

Featuring: Hange Zoe, Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman, Onyankopon, Yelena, Nicolo

Warning: Modern setting, gn!Hange

Word Count: 650

Author Note

Hi, this is another version of "Little Things They Do"! I've linked the first part above for you to read. Here is the song I listened to while writing this. These actions can be perceived platonically or romantically, whatever suits you. Let me know if you want me to write for other characters as well!

Hange

Not everyone can appreciate Hange the way they are, so enthusiastic in certain subjects to the point where they can explain stuff that can't be found in Wikipedia. Having you around them, someone who appreciates them and supports them in whatever they do, is something that Hange never takes for granted. Whenever you both are having a conversation, Hange likes to drop a few 'fun facts' or trivial knowledges they've attained in their free time. They make it sound amusing as well, like that one line from a Philomena Cunk episode "The Egyptians believed that the most important thing you could do in your life was die."

Erwin

Erwin most likely pays close attention to small details such as how your necktie is crooked, or a tiny splatter of ketchup in your cheek after you ate your food. He will fix it for you every time. Expect him to stop you from rushing somewhere when you're already late, just for him to fix your hair a little bit. Also the constant reminder for you to tie your shoes because somehow they're always undone. He's just afraid that you'll trip over your own feet. It's not like you're that clumsy and untidy, he just cares about you a lot.

Levi

Levi is the cleanest and tidiest person you've ever met in your entire life, but he just lets you do things that usually irks him out. Whenever you come over to his place, he'll let you leave your dirty plate or cup in the sink. He'll wash it for you. He let you touch his TV remote even though your fingers are greasy from your snack. He'll wipe it later. He let you work/do your assignments in his living room, your papers and miscellaneous stuff scattered around the place. He'll help you pick them up later. It's his way to repay your kindness because amongst his closest circle, you deal with his sad and gloomy side the most.

Onyankopon

Onyankopon will happily help you take aesthetic pictures for your social media, anytime, anywhere, even if it's really crowded. He'll go crouching down, tilting his body, all out to get the best pictures. He knows how to change the setting, the ISO and all, of both digital cameras and smartphones. He will tell you where to stand and which way to face, working with the light to complement your figure. He takes it seriously. It's rare to find someone who is willing to take pictures for you, let alone one who is really good at it.

Yelena

Most of the time Yelena is calm and composed, which is why she kind of insisted in speaking on your behalf. No matter if you both are in a restaurant, in a bar, or at the dentist, she will speak for you. She just noticed a long time ago how you often have a hard time explaining things, something that is really easy for her to do. At first she said it's because you take too long when ordering food, or your voice was shaking as you talk to strangers it bothers her. However, as the time goes by, you realize it's her way to take care of you. You don't have to worry when you're out with Yelena, she will handle everything.

Nicolo

You and Nicolo eat together, like, almost in every chance you both get. Be it a fancy dinner, or snacking together while watching a movie at home, you both love to share your food. For some reason, whenever you have to open a packaging, Nicolo will grab it and open it for you. Once he teared the packaging open, he'll give it back to you. Nicolo is also a big "do you wanna try my food" guy. He will cut half of his steak and move it to your plate. He will break a KitKat in two and share a half of it with you.

I've never written anything about Onyankopon, Yelena, and Nicolo but apparently it was fun. I think I have a crush on Yelena now idk. I hope you like it as well! Lemme know what you think :3

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #aot x you #aot x reader #hange zoe x reader #erwin smith x reader #levi ackerman x reader #onyankopon x reader #yelena x reader #nicolo x reader #snk x reader #fluff #reader insert #modern setting #new blog #no beta we die like erwin

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01rocketboy01 · 1 year

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Coffee and Kisses (Steven Grant x Male!Reader)

Summary: When Steven starts his new job at a coffee shop, he quickly finds himself infatuated with his new coworker.

Requested by @inactive-things

Sorry this took so long to get out, I had to auditions at my local theatre (yes, I’m a theatre nerd), and then a vacation! Hope this is what you wanted!

Warnings: Slight sexuality crisis from Steven, Caffeine(is that a warning?), Kissing ig, It’s pretty much just feel good fluff

“Wait! Hold on!” Steven called out, racing to catch the bus before it pulled away. He managed to get on right before the doors closed, breathing a sigh of relief as he took a spot. The bus was rather crowded, causing him to have to stand, holding on to one of the handles which hung from the ceiling.

He pulled a crumpled up paper out of his pocket, checking it nervously for the third time that morning. An address was written on it in his own handwriting, having received it over a phone call and not wanting to forget it. The last thing he needed was to get lost on his way to his first day at work.

He could hardly believe he had been able to get the job after what happened at the museum, but he wasn’t about to complain. While making coffee didn’t sound as appealing to Steven as spending his days surrounded by Egyptian relics, at least it would pay his bills. Hopefully, his new boss would be better than Donna.

The bus lurched to a stop, pulling him from his thoughts. It took him a minute to push through all the people, but he managed to make it off the bus before the doors closed, driving off into the morning traffic. Pulling out the note one more time, Steven walked down the street only a little ways before he found it; a small cafe on the corner.

He walked up to the door and pulled on it; locked. He hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door.

Someone came up to the door; it was hard to see through the frosted front door window, and the blinds were still drawn in the larger windows on either side.

Steven heard a voice call out; “Hold on! We don’t open for another 15 minutes!”

“It’s Steven!” He called back, earning a few strange looks from passerby on the street. “Steven Grant, I’m meant to start today I think?”

“Oh! Steven! Yes, just hold on a minute-“ The door was pulled open, and the smell of fresh pastries and coffee immediately rushed into his senses. Standing there was a man with a blue apron on, the cafe’s logo embroidered on the front pocket. His face was handsome, and held a warm smile, the kind that made Steven’s heart leap in his chest. A name tag had been pinned in the right corner of the apron; Y/N.

“Come on in.” The man said, and Steven obeyed, stepping into the shop. The man closed the door behind him, a small bell above the door ringing as he did so.

“I’m thankful to have more help, we’ve been rather short staffed as of late.” The man, Y/N spoke as he walked behind the counter, Steven following awkwardly behind him. “I’m supposed to show you the basics! My name is Y/N.”

“Are you my boss?” Steven asked sheepishly.

“No, I’m sorry! Wish I was.” He smiled again, causing a warmth to blossom in Steven’s chest. God, he was cute.

“The manager will be in tomorrow though, so you’ll get to meet her then. It’s just me and you today, Steven!”

For some reason, Steven felt he preferred it that way. Y/N gave him the basic rundown before opening up shop. As he explained to Steven how to clean the expresso machine, Steven found himself admiring the other man. The way he spoke and motioned as he explained, the gentle curve of his jaw, and his eyes. God, his eyes. They were beautiful, bright, and filled with emotion. Steven had heard that the eyes were apparently windows to the soul; if that were true, then Y/N’s soul must breathtaking.

As his thoughts raced and he felt the heat going to his cheeks, he frowned inwardly. He liked women, he had known that fact for awhile, but he had never considered that he may like men. Did he like men?

“Got all that?” Y/N looked up at him, meeting Steven’s eyes. His thoughts stalled immediately, and he quickly realized that he hadn’t been listening to a single word the man had said.

“I-I think so? Uhm, I mean, maybe?” Steven stammered out, trying to cover for his blunder but failing.

“It’s alright if you didn’t, I’m more of a hands on learner myself. I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out, and if you can’t, I’ll be here!” Y/N grinned, and Steven found his worries melting away.

…..

“Bloody…stupid….machine!” Steven cursed, struggling with the coffee grinder for the second time today.

“Something wrong?” Y/N turned to Steven, just finished handing a coffee to a customer.

“Can’t get this thing to work.” He sighed heavily. “Must hate me or something.”

Y/N chuckled at his comment. “It’s inanimate, Steven, it can’t feel hate.” He walked over to him. “But even if it could, how could anyone hate you?”

Heat rushed to Steven’s cheeks at the compliment, his hands freezing in the midst of their struggle with the grinder.

“Here, let me help.” The man leaned right over Steven’s shoulder, his chest pressed against his back as he reached his hand forward. He was close enough that Steven could smell his shampoo, the sweet aroma mixing with the smell of coffee which created a unique scent that Steven wouldn’t be able to replicate if he wanted to. Steven could feel his warm breath against his neck, and he was close enough to him to feel the vibrations in his chest as he spoke:

“Just like this, aaannnddd- there! Fixed!” Y/N pulled back, grinning happily at his accomplishment. Steven found himself missing the other man’s warmth as he took it with him when he walked away. “Let me know if you need anything else!”

…..

“I did it!” Steven called out happily. Y/N whirled around to find him standing there, holding a tall, cold latte, topped with whipped cream and caramel syrup. A triumphant smile shone on his face.

“Good job Steven!” He called back, the customers giving them a few strange looks. Steven had been working there for a couple of weeks, but had yet to master the shop’s specialty latte. Until now, of course.

Steven’s grin lingered on his face as he handed over the latte to the customer.

“You’re starting to really get a knack for this, Steven.” He smiled at him. “You’ll be a master barista in no time.”

“Well, I, uh, couldn’t have done it without such a great teacher.” Steven smiled sheepishly, fidgeting with his hands.

Y/N could feel the warmth rushing up to his cheeks at the compliment. “Well, thank you, Steven.”

.....

Steven turned the key in the lock, closing up the shop for the day. The shadows were getting long outside, and less and less people were milling about the streets. Y/N stood behind the counter, sipping on a large latte.

“How many of those have you had?” Steven asked as he turned back around, bringing the keys back to the counter.

“I don’t know, like...” He thought for a moment. “...five?”

“Five? Bloody hell, Y/N, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack!”

The man shrugged. “Hasn’t killed me yet!” He smiled happily, reaching behind the counter. He pulled out the remote for the music and turned it up. “I love this song!” Y/N walked out from behind the counter, placing down the half finished coffee as an upbeat song continued to play over the speakers.

Steven watched as Y/N started dancing and laughing. It was uncoordinated and clumsy, but shit, it was cute.

“Dance with me, Steven!” He cried out happily, veins coursing with caffeine as he spun with vigor around the coffee shop.

“I’m not really much of a dancer...” His cheeks flushed from...embarrasement? No, this was something else. His stomach began to flutter just like it had when they had first met.

Y/N shrugged. “Suit yourself!” He grinned as he continued to whirl around.

The setting sun filtered in the open widows, cause a golden hue to surround Steven’s coworker as he moved. He was illuminated with an almost angelic light, his laughter mixing with the music. Steven found himself wishing the moment would never end.

“I love you.” Steven blurted out, his brain not even comprehending what he had said until Y/N turned to look at him. Uh oh.

“You love me?” The man murmured quietly, unsure of what he had just heard. The music became mere background noise as they met each other’s gaze.

Y/N walked closer to Steven. “Steven?” He asked carefully. “You love me?”

Steven’s heart was pounding in his ears as he tried to think of something anything to use as an excuse. When he came up empty handed, he took a deep breath and resigned himself to his fate.

“Yeah. Who wouldn’t love you?” He starred down at his own hands, unable to meet the other man’s eyes as he waited for a reaction. He braced himself for rejection, or hatred or disgust, his mind racing to the worst outcomes imaginable as his heart ached.

Y/N walked to Steven, reaching out to hold his hands that were fidgeting out in front of him. They stilled, his chest still rising and falling nervously.

“I love you too.”

Steven looked up in surprise, his eyes meeting the man’s warm gaze. The way he looked at him made Steven want to melt on the spot, his breath hitching in his throat. Y/N leaned in, close enough that their noses were almost touching.

“Can I?” Y/N asked.

“Please.” Steven replied without hesitation. They kissed, slowly and gently, like something out of a sappy romance movie. Y/N reached up and cupped Steven’s face with his hands as Steven wrapped his arms around the man’s torso, pulling him in closer. The kiss lingered, neither wanting to be the one to pull away first as weeks of pinning bubbled to the surface.

Finally, they had to pull back for air. They stayed close, lips nearly touching. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I met you.” Y/N murmured against his lips, causing Steven’s heart to flutter.

“Can we get dinner sometime?” Steven asked sheepishly, as if he was still afraid he’d say no.

“Of course.” Y/N responded. “But first…” He gave Steven a quicker peck on the lips, “…will you dance with me?”

So sorry this took so long! I got halfway through writing and my computer decided to break, so apologies if it is formatted weird. I will be trying to be more active. Thank you so much for reading!

#moon knight #steven grant x male reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight x male reader #coffee shop au #steven grant fluff

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worldserasingandcreatinginmymind · 2 years

Text

Bloody Beetle | Part Two

Summary: after being almost killed by Harrow, the reader deals with declining health, while Steven deals with everything else; including his wife

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader, some Arthur Harrow x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: talk about death, reader is super weak and ill for all of this, angtsy, Arthur Harrow (apparently he is his own warning)

A/N: you guys requested part two so here we go, I hope you like it! There will be at least one more chapter of this story, maybe more... A lot of the dialogue is taken from episode 2 so all credit to the fabulous Moon Knight writers for that. As always, spelling and grammar are not my strongest skills so please be kind :)

*Divider from @galacticgraffiti*

Part One | Series Masterlist

“I’m Marc, Marc Spector. It’s good to finally meet you.”

“I don’t… I don't understand…”

As you stare up at the man above you, trying to make sense of how this ‘Marc’ can look so much like your Steven, you feel yourself begin to drift out of consciousness.

— — — —

You awake to the sound of raised voices. A female voice you don't recognise, and a male one that you do.

“Steven?” Your voice croaks as you sit up and look around. You appear to be in some sort of attic like apartment, dark and filled with enough books to start a library. “Steven?” You call again, louder this time as you slowly swing your legs to the side of the bed.

“Y/N! Oh my God you're awake!” Steven rushes to your side “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know- where am I? How did I get here?” You ask, attempting to stand but your head starts spinning causing you to stumble.

“Woah woah, slow down” Steven catches you and helps you sit back on the edge of the bed “let me get you some water”

“I got it” another voice startles you as a woman appears with a glass and hands it to you.

“thanks…” you say slowly, looking from the woman to Steven as you take a sip of water.

“This is Layla, she… uh… she’s-”

“His wife.” Layla interrupts.

“Wife?!” You nearly choke on your drink. “I didn’t know you were married” you say, trying to sound casual despite the sinking feeling in your chest. You’d liked Steven for a while now, but never had the courage to actually ask him out. Maybe its a good job you didn't.

“No! No no, I’m not but Marc is apparently.” Steven flusters, then quickly turns to Layla “not that there’s anything wrong with being married to you, you seem lovely but I-”

“Look I just need you to sign the papers that you sent me, and then we won’t be married anymore and you can carry on with this weird Steven act that you have going on. Okay?”

“I told you it’s not an act, I am Steven!”

“I’m really sorry to break up… whatever this is” you interrupt as they resume bickering “But I really need someone to explain to me what the hell is going on before I actually lose my mind!”

There’s an awkward moment of silence as the two look at you in shock while you catch your breath after your little outburst.

“Layla can you give us a minute please?” Steven says gently, without taking his eyes off you.

Layla doesn’t say anything as she turns and disappears to the kitchen.

Steven takes a deep breath before explaining to you as best he could what had happened since you were unconscious. About discovering this other guy, Marc Spector, living inside him. How Marc had carried you back to Steven’s flat after you passed out in the museum, and how you’d been asleep for a whole day. About how in the time you’d been asleep he’d fought a jackal and accidentally destroyed the museum toilets in the process, then been found by Layla who helped him escape the giant skeleton bird that was chasing him.

“Khonshu?” You ask in disbelief “You’re an avatar for the Egyptian God of the moon?”

“Well Marc is, but I guess kind of? It’s really complicated, I haven’t quite worked it out myself yet.”

“And the creepy guy from the museum is an avatar for Ammit?”

“Yep”

“And he’s looking for this beetle thing so he can free her and judge every living soul on this planet?”

“Bingo”

“So what makes him think that you know where it is?”

“Because he has it” Layla appears again, holding a shining golden beetle in her hand.

“Layla-” Steven starts but Layla stops him.

“Don’t. After everything we’ve been through, fighting side by side Marc-”

“I am not Marc Spector!” Steven shouts, startling you. “I’m Steven Grant. I work in a gift shop- well I used to work in a gift shop.”

“What do you mean, ‘used to’?” You ask, your heart sinking again at the thought of being at work without him by your side.

“I got fired. For vandalising the toilet.” He turns back to Layla “Listen, I don’t want anything to do with that scarab but Y/N is in real danger and I think I am too. And I think that you might be the only person that can help us.” He pauses “Please”

There’s a silence as Layla looks between Steven and you, thinking about her next move.

“You really don’t remember why we’ve been looking for this?” She asks, Steven shakes his head. “Our adventures? Our life together?”

“God I wish I could”

A knock at the door makes the three of you jump.

“Steven Grant? Can we have a word?” A voice calls from the other side of the door.

“Oh God they’ve come for me” Steven looks panicked.

There’s another knock.

“Just a minute” Steven responds slowly making his way to the door and opening it just enough to see the people on the other side.

You and Layla exchange nervous glances while Steven has a hushed conversation at the front door. Suddenly the door bangs open as one of the officers barges through the door, and when you turn back you realise Layla is gone. You just catch a glimpse of her as she disappears through the window out onto the roof.

“Is this about the toilet? Because it’s been dealt with, I’ve been sacked” You hear Steven nervously rambling as the officers begin looking around the flat.

The female stops when she sees you sat on the bed, glancing from you to the foot of the bed. This is when you notice the restraints attached to the base of the bed. “Everything okay here?” She asks casually but clearly checking on you. You nod.

“Oh, I have a sleeping disorder.” Steven states before continuing his rambling “and well, the museum said they wouldn’t press charges as long as I do it in instalments, they said-”

“What’s this?” The male officer suddenly appears holding a small pyramid shaped object.

“Its a paper weight”

“Where did you get it?”

“…paperweight shop” Steven replies, nervously watching the other officer as she circles near you.

You watch as she goes to the window and looks out as if she’s searching for something. You hope Layla was smart enough to hide. Its only when she retreats back inside you realise you’ve been holding your breath and let out a sigh.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The lady asks you, quieter this time so only you can hear.

“Yeah, I’m just feeling a little under the weather today” you reply trying to sound relaxed despite the sudden intrusion and the constant spinning in your head.

“You’re in possession of a stolen item” you hear the male officer telling Steven.

“No, I don’t have it. I don’t. It’s not here.” Steven pleads as the officer searches through a gym bag on the table, pulling out a passport.

“Marc Spector?” He questions.

“That’s not mine”

“Funny that. Fella looks just like you.”

“Fake passport and a thief. I think you best come with us son.” The female officer says as the male handcuffs Steven. “You too love” she turns to you.

“No, she hasn't- she’s nothing to do with this!” Steven argues but they don’t listen. The female officer gestures for you to follow and you feel a wave of panic. What if you pass out again? Will they think Steven has done something to you?

You take a breath and stand, closing your eyes tightly as the room spins.

“Please, she’s not well” you hear Steven almost begging them to leave you alone and feel a pair of hands hold you up by the arm. You open your eyes and the female looks at you.

“We won’t cuff you, but we do need you to come with us” she explains, leading you to the door and out of the building.

— — — —

The car journey is mostly spent leaning against the headrest behind you while you listen to the officers in the front of the car argue with Steven about who he is and what he’s done.

“We’ve only got ourselves a full blown international fugitive” the woman says.

“It’s not- it’s a mistake. It’s not me”

“Marc Spector was part of a team of mercenaries that hit a dig site in Egypt. Here’s what they did to the archeologists. Zip tied and shot in the back of the head, execution style.”

“That’s dark man” the male officer says in disgust.

“No, no, no. I didn’t do that” he turns to look at you “That’s not me”

“Of course you didn’t… Steven” the female officer says sarcastically, but Steven remains looking at you like he’s desperate for you to believe him.

Eventually the car comes to a stop and you look out the window to see you’re in some random dark back street.

“I thought we were going to the police station” Steven says as the male officer looks at him through the mirror.

“Now why would you think that?” He replies sinisterly and as he adjusts the rearview mirror you spot the scale tattoo on his wrist. Another wave of panic hits you.

“Sit tight yeah” the woman says as they both exit the car, leaving you and Steven alone.

“No” Steven whispers under his breath, sounding defeated.

“Why would they bring us here?” You ask as you try to open the locked car doors.

“I don’t know exactly, but those tattoos…” Steven doesn’t finish his sentence, too distracted searching the darkness through the car window.

“Steven… I’m scared” you admit and he turns to you.

“I know, Y/N, I am so so sorry I dragged you into this-”

“-But if this is about that beetle, you cannot give it to him.”

Steven is about to argue when a bang makes you both jump and you see a young girl running near the car. Steven taps his head against the glass window as you both shout trying to get her attention.

“Hello! Excuse me, could you help us? Help please, we’ve been kidnapped!”

The girl bends down to grab something then stands up, holding a football in the air and exposing the scale tattoo on her wrist.

“She's one too”

Steven looks past you, to his reflection in the glass window.

“No, no I saw what you did to those people” he shakes his head.

“Steven?” You ask, looking at the window next to you to see there’s no one there “Who are you talking to?” He turns to look at his reflection in the rearview mirror.

“I am never giving you control again. Ever!” He shouts, and you realise he’s talking to Marc. “Do you hear me?”

“I hear you loud and clear, Steven Grant of the gift shop.” A voice comes through the car radio, a voice that sends a shiver through your body.

Suddenly the car doors are opened, causing Steven to fall out and you hear a thud as he hits the floor.

“Steven!” You shout as two hands grab you, pulling you from the car. “Get off me! Steven?!”

“I’m sorry for the wait” Arthur Harrow says as he crouches beside Steven “We just needed a chance to better understand your situation. Let’s get you out of those cuffs.”

He takes the keys off the female ‘officer’ and removes Stevens handcuffs as the ‘officers’ walk away.

“Well no wonder your scales don’t balance.” He helps Steven stand up. “It must be very difficult having all those voices inside one head. Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Khonshu. I’m curious, do you think Khonshu chose you as his avatar because your mind would be so easy to break or because it was broken already?”

“I’m not broken.” Steven argues “Just need some help, maybe.”

“Thats right. That’s why I’m here, to help.” He turns his attention to you as the person holding you leads you around the car to stand by Steven. “Ah, Y/N Y/L/N. I am so very glad to be seeing you again. How are you?”

Arthur gestures for the person holding you to release you and as he does you feel your body go weak. You stumble forward and Arthur catches you, holding you up and looking into your eyes like he’s studying your soul.

“She’s ill because of you” Steven states angrily from beside you.

“No” Arthur says calmly, still studying you with his piercing blue eyes “her evil has made her ill”

“I am not evil” you try to sound strong buy your voice comes out as a breathless whisper.

“Maybe not…” he places a hand on your cheek, gently moving a strand of hair that has fallen across your face “…but your actions will be.” He looks at you with such sadness that you feel your own eyes begin to water. Then suddenly he removes his hand and gestures for one of his followers to come. “Please take our sick friend to one of the guest rooms to rest.”

“No, I’m not going anywhere” you look at Steven in fear.

“Don’t worry, Steven will be right here.” Arthur reassures you as two random women take you by the arm, not harshly but firm enough to know you can’t fight back. “I just need a moment to talk with him alone."

“Steven!” You call out and he can hear the panic in your voice. You look over your shoulder at him as you're pulled away.

“I’ll find you” he says, and you see in his eyes that he means it. “I promise”

In that moment you feel you can trust this man with your life.

You allow them to lead you away from the busy communal area and to a quiet bedroom. They help you into bed, lay you down and make sure you're comfortable before leaving you to rest. The minute your body relaxes into the mattress you feel like you could fall asleep. You fight to stay awake, wanting Steven to come find you. It doesn’t take long for the exhaustion to take over, pulling you into a deep sleep.

— — — —

A low rumbling shakes through the building, waking you up. In the distance you hear shouting and the sound of Harrow’s followers running outside your door. You try to sit up but your body has lost all strength.

“Hello? Steven? Anyone?” You call out but no one comes.

After what feels like a lifetime, but was probably only half an hour later, you hear the door to your room finally open. The sound of footsteps and a cane tapping the floor let you know that Harrow has entered the room and is making his way around the bed to the side you’re laying. He stops when he’s in your view.

“I trust you had a good sleep” he says, resting his hands on his cane.

“What’s going on? I heard shouting… Where’s Steven?”

Arthur sighs, gesturing to the edge of the bed “May I sit?” You give him a small nod and he sits, looking at you sympathetically. “Steven’s gone Y/N”

“What?”

“He left, with another girl and the scarab.”

“Layla…” you whisper under your breath, realising she must have come for him “no, no he wouldn’t just leave me here. He wouldn’t-”

“He did”

“He promised!” You try to sit up but fall straight back down, defeated and exhausted. Harrow watches you silently for a moment as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, but tears still escape.

“I’m sorry” he says softly, causing you to look at him “humanity can be so disappointing”

“I don’t blame him for leaving me behind, dragging around a dying girl can really slow you down” your voice croaks, causing Harrow to silently reach for the glass of water on the bedside table. He holds the glass to your lips allowing you to take a drink. When youre finished he places the glass back down and returns to just sitting observing you. “If you’re gonna kill me please just do it” you snap and he smirks.

“Why would I kill you?”

“Steven’s not going to give you that beetle thing, and I wouldn’t let him even if he tried.”

“You would sacrifice your life to save the evil people in this world?” He looks genuinely fascinated by you.

“Not everyone who does bad things is evil! You don’t know people’s circumstances, the events in their lives that led to them doing the wrong thing. We should try to help people, steer them to doing good things, not condemn them before they even have a chance.” Shaking your head as you speak causes a wave of pain to shoot through your body and you let out a grunt, closing your eyes tightly and taking a breath. “How long do I have left?”

As you slowly open your eyes to look at Harrow, you notice he almost looks remorseful. He stands up from the bed, reaching over to place a hand on your head and gripping his cane with the other.

“Go back to sleep now. It’ll be over soon.”

And with that he turns and leaves, as you once again drift into darkness.

Part Three

Taglist: toracainz / pinkiestwinkie / malaanii / galacticstxrdust /

(tagged those who asked or seemed interested in part two, if you want to be removed or added to the tag list please let me know 🤍)

#moon knight fic #moon knight x reader #Steven Grant x reader #Marc Spector x reader #Arthur Harrow x reader #layla el faouly #Layla El faouly x reader #summon the suit #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight imagine #moon knight reader insert #oscar issac x reader #ethan hawke x reader

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lokislittlemidgardian · 2 years

Text

Little scarab (pt 1)

Content - museums, readers niece being a chaotic Cupid, angst, little!reader, this part is big space, very heavily mentioned little space, reader being scared to tell her partners about her little space, mentions of a play room, fluff, don’t like don’t read.

Summary - how your journey with your mommy and daddy’s started.

Authors note - it started out as a two parter in my mind but now I’m thinking why not make it an au?, shh we don’t talk about the employment plot in the beginning, hope you enjoy!

Part 2 - here

It all started with a trip to the museum.

You had planned a day out with your 10 year old niece, your sister was practically begging you too seeing as it was half term and she hadn’t had a break for a good few days.

You both decided on the museum one because she had a history project and two it was a place you thought she would have to be quiet and respectful.

You were wrong with both of your assumptions.

“Abbey!” You quietly hissed running around with your boots gently hitting the floorboards, eventually apprehending her gently by the back of her coat you walked around and saw what she was looking at, of course it was the gift shop.

Taking her hand making sure she couldn’t wander off you made your way towards some paperweights and books of ancient Egypt. You didn’t remember much about the pyramids and Egyptian gods you didn’t really pay much attention to them at school but you always found them interesting.

“Auntie Y/N what’s this?” She asked pointing at a paper weight of the pyramid of Giza “that’s the-” “that is the great pyramid of Giza” a woman with shoulder length curly hair and a dark green jacket on answered “it was built roughly around 2550 to 2490 bc by the Egyptian people and it’s stayed there for centuries.” She answered picking up the pyramid and giving it to your niece with a smile looking forward at you “yeah well, yeah that’s about it” you said with a chuckle at the woman.

You couldn’t get over how beautiful she was.

“You wanna know something?” A man with jet black curls asked while stacking shelves “what?” Abbey said eagerly “we’ve been in there” he said gesturing to they woman in front of you. The revelation made your niece very excited but you obviously didn’t believe him.

You would later on find it to be true.

After a few minutes of talking to the couple you learned that their names were Layla and Steve. Eventually you realised that it was getting late and that you sadly had to get abbey home to your sister. “Can we get this for mum auntie? Please she’d love it” abbey said hopefully looking at you “of course we can bey” you said taking her hand.

After the pair had rung you up they wished you a good night Laylas hand grazing yours a little to long before you made your way to the exit.

Or course abbey thought it was the right time to announce her opinion on your interaction before you had even left the room.

“You fancy them don’t you auntie” “Abbey!”

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

Since that night you hadn’t really thought about the interaction apart from when you heard terms like god, goddess, museum, pyramid, paper- hang on, you might have thought about it a little bit.

You were sitting behind the cash register at the cafe you worked at, it was in the heart of London so you saw all types of people, but you never expected to see the two people you had been thinking about for weeks.

Once they had seen you, Laylas features lit up and Steven had a surprised expression on his face that was almost comedic. Once they had chosen a table you rushed discreetly to be the one that served them earning a snigger from Harley, Harley was your best friend and they had been the recipient of every detail about each of them at least every 4 days.

“Hiya!, what can I get for you?” You asked smoothing out your apron a tad and looking at each of them with a warm smile. “Uh yes um could I get an earl grey tea please?” Steven stuttered out with a smile on the side of his mouth “absolutely, and what about you?” “Just a black coffee thanks” Layla said grinning at you.

After you had brought out their drinks you stayed to talk to them for a while until you were called back into the kitchen. When they came over to pay for their drinks Layla slipped a piece of white paper over to you with 2 phone numbers attached.

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

That was 5 months ago and you had been together ever since you phoned them up the day after.

You knew about Marc and konshu and Layla and taweret, obviously you had been very confused and not to mention concerned about their well being but in the end you had figured out that they had everything covered. Everything was perfect. Well almost perfect.

You still hadn’t told them about your age regression.

The topic wasn’t easy to bring up at all so you just never bothered, but it was beginning to take its toll on you. You hadn’t had the chance to regress for almost the entire time you had been together, it wasn’t just them though it was work and your family. You just never got any time to yourself.

You were beginning to distance yourself from them and they were starting to notice. Every time they came around to your flat you seemed on edge to them and they were starting to think you felt uncomfortable around them. Obviously that couldn’t be further from the truth, you were only on edge because you were always looking around for any little things you might have left out and it didn’t help that when Marc was fronting he was always trying to guess what was behind the locked door next to your bedroom.

Eventually they had reached their breaking point.

Hearing a knock at the door you got up from the sofa, after you unlocked it your were met with the sight of Marc and Layla’s worried faces. Oh no.

After inviting them in they gestured you over to the sofa, you didn’t like this silence. “Are you two okay your acting very strangely” you said sitting in the middle of them “were ok baby, we want to know what’s going on with you” Marc said as gently as he could. “What do you mean, I’m fine” you said with a false smile “no your not honey, we know when somethings wrong you don’t have to lie to us” Layla said softly lightly scratching your scalp and placing a kiss on your forehead.

God that was almost enough too make you slip.

Taking deep breath’s you eventually found the courage to speak “have you heard of age regression?” You asked quietly looking at the carpet. “Um no, what is it.” You heard Layla ask still lightly caressing your arm, getting up quickly you found your iPad and typed in the definition of age regression. You weren’t brave enough to say it out loud, giving Marc the iPad you moved to your bedroom. You just didn’t want to see them leave.

Getting under your duvet and curling up in the Cotten sheets you held onto the light blue rabbit and let silent tears fall into the fur. You hated this feeling being on the verge and hazy, you were so uncomfortable that you didn’t hear the footsteps coming into your bedroom.

Feeling the duvet slowly being pulled back you felt Marc carefully get into the bed beside you. Gently pulling you and to face him he used the pad of his finger to wipe away the stray tears. “Shhh it’s ok, your ok just breath for me honey, just like that good job” he said as he talked you through a breathing exercise.

About 15 minutes later you were silent in his arms slowly breathing in and out. Hearing the sound of the front door being opened you instantly sat up in a slight panic only to be gently pulled back down by mark “it’s ok baby it’s just Layla” he said stroking your hair. A few minutes later Layla came into the room with a glass of water in one hand and a sippy cup full of water in the other “hi sweetheart,I didn’t know if you had one or not and I wanted you to be able to choose so I nipped out and bought you one.”

After placing down the two water filled containers she lifted you gently into her side placing a few kisses on the top of your head. “Are you feeling big or little at the moment honey?” Mark asked you soothingly “a bit of both” you said straightening up a bit “why are you being so nice about it?” you mumbled into the side of Laylas neck “because there is absolutely nothing wrong with this my love” Layla said looking at you intensely “we want to be here for you Y/N, we can take care of you.”

“Is Steven ok with it?” You questioned mark almost instantly his eyes rolled back “yes love I’m alright with it” Steven said giving you a small kiss to the tip of your nose “alright then” you said slowly letting yourself fade into sleep in the loving embrace of your partners.

"Goodnight little scarab."

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

Taglist @lethalbeautiful @lucielbinon-binary

#daddy!steven grant #daddy!marc #little!reader #mommy!layla #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector #steven grant #layla x reader #layla el faouly #steven x layla #marc x layla #caregiver #sfw age regression #age regression reader #moon knight #little scarab au

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feedingtheflockministry · 1 year

Text

The Testimony of Khalil (a former terrorist for Islam)

youtube

Love it that Jesus still makes appearances to this day. He is so gentle and kindhearted to those He appears to. Hope you all enjoy this short 30 minute film. I sure did.

Story:

Khalil started memorizing the Qur’an at an early age and developed what he called a “love for the word of God.” As he grew older, his views hardened into a radical form of Islam and he joined an Islamic group. He engaged in terrorist acts designed to overthrow the Egyptian government, and for a time received military training in a remote, desert area of Yemen.

The group’s Emir, however, eventually came to the conclusion that a military option was not practical in achieving their aims against Christian missionaries. The Emir, instead, proposed an intellectual approach. He assigned Khalil the task of writing a book that would discredit Christianity by exposing the Bible as a corrupted text and revealing the passages in the Bible that foretell of the Prophet Mohammed. Khalil was repulsed by the idea that he would have to read the Bible as part of his research, but eventually took on the job at the Emir’s insistence.

When he had completed reading the Bible and cross-referencing it with numerous texts from the Qur’an (as well as commentaries on the Qur’an), Khalil discovered the Bible was neither inaccurate nor corrupted. Furthermore, he found no mention of the Prophet Mohammed, and he discovered the Qur’an itself acknowledges that Isa (Jesus), the Messiah, is God.

Growing doubts now made Khalil’s life miserable. He had always loved Islam and had always believed the only way to God was through the Prophet Mohammed. But now he asked: If Jesus and God are one, then who is the Prophet Mohammed and what is the way to heaven? Khalil began to put his thoughts on paper. He knew his conclusions were not what the Emir would want to hear, but his honest enquiry offered no alternatives.

One day, the Emir came to visit Khalil in his house and discovered the manuscript, which Khalil had entitled “Is the Qur’an God’s Word?” The Emir was shocked at Khalil’s premise, and especially his conclusions regarding Jesus. He threatened to kill him if he ever shared his heretical ideas with another Muslim. As far as the Emir was concerned, Khalil had become a kafir (infidel).

Khalil, however, could not deny his growing conviction that Christianity was the way to God. He began to cautiously seek out Christian acquaintances at work, hoping to learn more about their faith. One day, as he placed a phone call to one such friend from a café, his briefcase was stolen. The bag contained his manuscript, Bible and identity card. Khalil rushed home, troubled and tormented. Alone in his room, he repented for daring to think the Prophet Mohammed was not sent from God and the Qur’an was not the Word of God. He knelt on his prayer mat only to discover that he could not say his prayers or utter one word of the Qur’an. Instead, he prayed in his own words—from the heart—asking God to show him the truth.

That night, Khalil fell into a deep sleep. In a dream, a man came to him and told him he was the one for whom Khalil had been searching. He also told Khalil to read the Book (the Bible). Khalil said he loved the Book, but had lost it, to which the man replied, “The Book cannot be lost. Stand up and open your closet. You will find it there.”

Khalil awoke from the dream, got out of bed and opened his closet door. His Bible was inside on a shelf. Khalil hurried to his mother’s room, woke her up and begged her forgiveness for his years of harsh treatment. As the sun rose that morning, he went outside, greeting friends and strangers alike. He sought out the Christian owners of businesses whom he had robbed or mistreated, and begged their forgiveness, too.

Over the ensuing months, Khalil grew in his faith, gradually winning the trust of local Christians and finding fellowship at a church where he was baptized in water. He has braved persecution but is convinced that no price is too great to pay for the joy of serving the One who gave everything for him.

#islam #islamic #islam help #islamism #islamdaily #convert to islam #bible #Quran #seeking #Youtube

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ijustwant2write · 2 years

Text

Membership Pass-Steven Grant x Reader

(GIF credit to @stevenrogered)

MASTERLIST

Requested by anonymous: 'Imagine Reader meeting Steve at the museum and both are super shy 🥺but since then they come across each other everyday and it's really cute 🥺'

Characters: Steven Grant x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Just fluff 😊

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(Y/N) beamed as she stepped into the museum. She hadn't visited since she was little, it had changed so much, but that only meant she had more exhibits to see. She didn't care that she was by herself, no one was there to distract her. She could really focus on the history on display.

Her whole day was spent there, and a day we'll spent in (Y/N)'s opinion. She knew there were others around her that also appreciated the displays and information set out, though there were also a lot of children either fascinated or bored during their trip. Just like when she was a little girl, she ended the trip with a visit to the gift shop.

Steve was obviously bored, repricing items that were headed for clearance, the stupid and inaccurate toys mocked him almost. As he carelessly stuck new price stickers on the items, he noticed a woman waltz in, staring a little too long. He couldn't help it, she was beautiful. Steven assumed she would walk through to the exit, it was always kids and their parents who stayed to buy something. He was surprised when she saw her jaw drop at the sight of something.

(Y/N) rushed over to the Egyptian section, spotting the newest book by her favourite author. It was another installment from the author who studied all aspects of Egyptian life, and it was exclusively released to the museum first. She picked up one from the pile, seeing that she had grabbed one of the signed copies. With a big grin on her face, she made her way to the till, already wanting to flick through the papers.

Steven clumsily fumbled with the sticker machine, almost dropping it on the floor as he scurried over. He tried to play it off by laughing when he got there, greeting the woman with blushing cheeks.

"Hi."

"Hi." she smiled back.

"You seemed excited to pick this one up."

"Yeah, well, I have all the other books in the collection so far. And I realised literally as I walked in here that the new one is being sold here so of course I have to get it."

Steven was in awe. There were hardly any customers that would know of this author, let alone want to buy a book from the museum in the first place.

"I have all the books too!" Steven exclaimed."Volume one is always my favourite though."

"Egyptian gods? Yeah, that's a good one. You're so lucky to work in a place like this."

"The gift shop? Nah, it's not as good as being on the floor, you know, like a tour guide."

"That does sound fun."

"The shop or the tours?"

She laughed."Sorry, I have to go with the tours."

He let out a short chuckle as he scanned the book, grabbing a gift bag as she got out her card.

"Oh, I have one of those member cards to scan!" she quickly whipped it out.

"Oh cool, so you've got yearly access to the museum." he took it from her to scan.

"Yep, it was a present from my parents. I've just moved to London because of my new job, but they knew I would want to come here all the time. I was so excited when they gave it to me, it was even better than the new TV they helped me buy." (Y/N) froze before she could talk any further."Sorry, I talk a lot when I get excited."

This shop assistant was so cute, and here she was embarrassing herself. She saw his name was Steven from the name tag, noting that it was with a 'V' and not a 'ph'. As he returned her card, he dropped it on the counter, both of them fumbling to pick it up, cringing as their hands brushed multiple times.

"So, that's thirteen pounds and fifty pence please." Steven said when they recovered.

She tapped her phone on the card machine, thanking him as he put the receipt in the bag and slid it over.

"Will you be visiting again soon?" Steven dared to ask.

"Yeah, I think I most definitely will be."

They shared a smile before she walked away, shoulders tensing up from how giddy she was.

"My name is Steven by the way!" he called after her.

(Y/N) turned around."I know. Because of the name tag! I'm not a stalker!"

He nodded as they laughed again, (Y/N) about to walk away when she remembered she hadn't told him her name.

"Oh, I'm (Y/N) by the way. It was really nice to meet you."

They were both bashful as their conversation ended. Steven had a bit more spring in his step for the rest of the day, hoping (Y/N) would become a regular visitor who he would be seeing more often. (Y/N) now had another reason to come to the museum, maybe she would grow the confidence to speak to him for more than five minutes.

The week passed, Steven being nagged by Donna and (Y/N) was settling into her new workplace. But it was now Saturday, the weekend, it was time for (Y/N) to head to the museum again. She got up extra early this time, hoping to catch Steven before the rush. Although she had been in high spirits the whole way there, she halted outside the doors, wondering if Steven was even working. Of course (Y/N) would still enjoy her time there, though she had wanted to talk to Steven again.

(Y/N) felt silly as she walked in, scanning her membership card. She had dressed up more, made an effort. It was still a casual look, she just wanted to give off a good impression to Steven. Who was she kidding? She had never even been asked on a date, how was she going to speak with this guy?

Although she tried to walk around the exhibits, take down her own notes of anything interesting, she couldn't keep her mind off of Steven. He was just so handsome, and cute, and so adorable when he spoke. It was clear he was shy too, though that made him more attractive. They also shared a big interest, something they were both passionate about. (Y/N) really hoped he was working today.

Steven had dashed through the museum, running late for work again. He prayed Donna wouldn't catch him, hopefully she hadn't noticed his absence yet. Luckily there weren't many visitors yet, so he got away with running through the halls. But he spotted someone familiar, only for a second, but it still made him stop, almost skidding across the room on the polished floors. It was her, and she looked beautiful.

"(Y/N)?" he cautiously said as he approached her.

"Steven!"

The way she said his name gave him butterflies.

"Long time no see." he joked.

"I did say I would be a regular."

"That's great, not many people devote their time to the museum."

"I love it, I always have."

There was a short silence before an idea popped into his head."Um ...I was actually wondering...My lunch break is at one, did you, like, want to have lunch together or something?"

(Y/N) felt herself blushing, heart racing. Would this be a date?

"Yeah, I'd love that!"

Too enthusiastic (Y/N).

"Great! I'll meet you by the Egyptian section?" Steven hoped it wasn't too on the nose.

"Perfect. I'll see you then."

Steven nodded, mumbling out 'bye' before he really had to make sure he got to the shop before Donna. (Y/N) was relieved that she had made an effort into her outfit, though she knew Steven ultimately wouldn't have minded what she wore.

One o'clock took it's time to get to. Both Steven and (Y/N) had glanced at the clock or phone too many times. Steven had to deal with customers bribing their bratty children with toys, whilst (Y/N) couldn't concentrate on any of the information she read. Her eyes would skim over the words but nothing would register. When it was five to one, (Y/N) made her way to the meeting point, trying to look around for Steven ut not making it too obvious.

Steven had his lunchbox and flask in his hands, quickly making his way to the Egyptian area. He was excited, could this be a date? Oh, what if it was? He kicked himself for not asking her out properly, they could have at least gone to a nice cafe nearby. It was too late now anyway, as he had spotted her.

"Hi." Steven grinned.

She turned around at the sound of his voice."Hi. Oh you were smart bringing a packed lunch. I had to go buy mine."

"Oh, I would have bought it for you! I was the one who suggested lunch in the first place."

"It's OK, I really don't mind."

"As long as you're sure."

She nodded."So, where shall we sit?"

"I've got just the place."

He guided her through the halls of artifacts, finding a bench pressed against a wall. Opposite was a huge tapestry, it was faded but you could still clearly make out what was weaved on it; there were pictures of God's and humans, (Y/N) knew what it was instantly.

"Journey to the afterlife." she muttered.

"Yeah, I just thought, lunch with a view." Steven nervously said.

"A very good view indeed."

They tucked into their lunches, speaking when they weren't chewing about the piece in front of them. Steve knew he didn't have a lot of time for his break, but there was so much he wanted to know about her.

"Can I ask, what got you so interested in all this?"

"Egyptians?"

He nodded.

"I dunno, I think... Well for starters, I love all history, I could talk about anything in the past, you know, Tudors, Romans, Aztecs, Victorians. But, something just drew me to this, I found it all so beautiful and fascinating. I wish I had persued it in uni or something, and not just as a hobby."

"Why didnt you?"

"My parents have always been supportive, but we weren't very well off. I think they were worried that I would end up with little money if I went down that route, they encouraged me to do something other than history. And I do like my job, I've got good colleagues and I'm able to afford rent in the capital! It's not the greatest flat in the world I'll admit but it's still a place I'm paying for."

"Good for you. That's really admirable."

"Thanks Steven, that's a very sweet thing to say."

He mentally high fived himself, he was doing a good job here.

"What about you? Why aren't you a tour guide?"

"Same sort of story really. I would love to be one. It just feels good telling people all this information you know, and then seeing their eyes light up at things they never knew about. The kids faces are funny when they hear about how mummies were actually made."

"I can imagine. At least we can still enjoy the exhibits I suppose."

"Yeah." Steven glanced at his watch, he only had ten minutes left, and he had to be back at the shop sharp."Hey, um, I was thinking...Maybe we make this a regular thing? And perhaps we could also go out for dinner sometime?"

(Y/N) tried not to giggle in glee, feeling herself turn red."Like, a date?"

"Yeah, only if you want it to be. I would like that."

"Yes. I would gladly go out with you. On a date."

"Perfect!"

They were smiling widely at one another, not sure of the next move to make.

"I have to get back to work, but will I see you on your way out?"

"Of course. I really liked having lunch together."

"Me too. Discuss details of our 'date' later?"

"Yeah. I'll see you later."

"Laters gators."

Steven turned quickly before he could regret what he said. Why? Why did he have to end it like that? At least he could be happy knowing he had a date with a girl he really fancied. And he was also looking forward to her finishing her visit, he had to think of somewhere to go now.

(Y/N)'s cheeks were aching from how much she was smiling. She had a date! It was her first date! What was she going to wear? Should she bring a bottle of wine? But they were surely going out so why would she do that? (Y/N) had to remind herself that they hadn't even said what they were doing, that would be discussed later. Just like before, (Y/N) couldn't concentrate on anything in front of her, daydreaming about her date with Steven. She was going to have a shorter trip today, just so she could see Steven sooner, she thought. What a great reason to visit the museum every week.

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mahvericks · 2 years

Text

For anon + the two people who wanted me to write for Layla again!

Request; id like to request being a linguist and dating layla? maybe she tells you i love you in her native language and u just respond back that you love her too? and she’s all dumbfounded but you go back to your regular task after kissing her cheek or something 👀

Warnings; none, can be set before or after the events of moon knight, kinda short, tried my best to remember what I knew from the arab language, feel free to correct me if I made a mistake! <3

Ana bahebak, ‘umri = I love you, my life

Ana kaman bahebak, nuur 'inayya = I love you too, light of my eyes

____

It was one of those days that felt endless where nothing good would happen when you met Layla- the woman that would turn up to be the love of your life.

Your day had started with you waking up late and had to rush the museum you had been working with to give your finished translations right in time- that day you didn’t even get to eat breakfast or grab a coffee on your way to work.

To make it even better, the museum’s director was for some reason in a terrible mood and clearly upset with everyone. You spent the whole day wishing to get back home as quickly as you could until you met her.

She was visiting the museum and ended up asking you some questions about a newly piece that wasn’t even exposed yet- you learnt that she was the one who found the said piece.

Months went by, after a few dates and random meetings in the museum you worked with, Layla and you started dating- honestly, you were pretty much head over heels for her the first time you guys met but you would have never imagined you would end up dating.

And you wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world, it didn’t take that long after you started dating to move in together- to be honest, while it was because you both wanted to live together it was also more practical for Layla who had to travel for her job as an archeologist.

This week had been going by pretty slowly as Layla had been away for her job, it felt even slower since you spent most of the time in your apartment to translate some newly arrived ancient texts.

Coming back from meeting you had at the museum mostly to give them an update on the translation of the texts you were working on- you were surprised to find the lights on when you stepped inside your apartment.

Shrugging it off, you didn’t think much of it, maybe you just forgot to turn the lights off before leaving- maybe you had left in a rush without paying attention and were still focused on your translations.

That being said, as soon as you saw your girlfriend’s jacket folder over one of the kitchen’s chairs, you knew the explanation- Layla was back home. Grinning from ear to ear, you quickly made your way to the living room and saw her sitting on the couch reading some of your translated works.

“ I didn’t know you could read and translate more than one of the different ancient language?”

Laughing at her comment, you basically threw yourself at her to hug her as tightly as you could- you had missed her so much “ it’s so good to have you back home!”

“ I missed you so much bubs but you’re going to suffocate me if you keep hugging me this tightly.”

Releasing your girlfriend from your too tight embrace, you quickly apologized as you sat more comfortably on the couch, “ you should have told me you were coming back today, I wouldn’t cleaned the apartment and got you something!”

“ I wanted to surprised you- and it’s not like the apartment isn’t clean.”

“ But it’s a mess! I kinda used the living room as my office lately.”

“ I can see that, hence my question when you arrived which you didn’t answer.”

Laughing at Layla’s fake frown, you started to rummage through your papers, looking for the one you didn’t finish yet, “ you know it’s like 80 percent of my job, right? I can translate all fifth stages of ancient egyptian.”

“ I might just have fallen even more in love with you and I didn’t know that was possible.”

“ Wait until you learn about the rest.”

“ Wait, what do you mean?”

It was amusing to see how intrigued Layla was, and while you could just tell her everything as it wasn’t a secret, it was just better to keep some mystery, “ you’ll see in time, babe.”

“ Hey! It’s not fair to drop some hints like that and then keep the mystery for yourself.”

“ It’s not even a secret I swear, let’s just say that on top of being able to translate the ancient egyptian language, I can also speak a bunch of languages.”

“ Now, I want to know everything!”, Layla’s little pout was just adorable to see, “ which languages and can you tell me something in those languages?”

“ I will but not now- I have a deadline tonight for that text and I need to finish it.”

“ I understand, we can order some food when you’re done and we can watch a movie or something all cuddled up under some blankets.”

“ That sounds awesome!”

“ It does because I always have awesome ideas! But for now, I want a hug and I’ll go unpack my suitcase.”

Your girlfriend didn’t have to ask twice for a hug, wrapping your arms around her, you didn’t hold her as tightly as when you saw she was back from her work trip yet the embrace was just as warm.

“ Ana bahebak, ‘umri.”

Smiling at the sentence you had gotten used to hear so much since Layla and you started dating, you would just answer her in english that you loved her too, it just came out naturally when in reality you could simply reply to her in arabic- a language you learnt years ago.

And this time, especially since Layla wanted to hear you speak the languages you knew, you thought it would be the perfect time to surprise her, “ ana kaman bahebak, nuur 'inayya.”

If it was physically possible, Layla’s jaw would have fell on the floor, you had never seen her this shocked- her reaction was definitely worth the wait. Giggling, you gave her a quick peck on the lips before going back into your translations.

“ wh- since when do you speak arabic?”

“ A couple of years I guess- see I’m full of surprise!”

#layla el faouly x reader #layla el faouly imagine #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #wlw imagine #request

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 2 years

Text

We Were Something, Don’t You Think So? [Chapter 12: The Atlantic Ocean] [Series Finale]

You are a Russian grand duchess in a time of revolution. Ben Hardy is a British government official tasked with smuggling you across Europe. You live happily ever after.

This is a work of fiction loosely inspired by the events of the Russian Revolution and the downfall of the Romanov family. Many creative liberties were taken. No offense is meant to any actual people. Thank you for reading! :)

Song inspiration: “the 1” by Taylor Swift.

Chapter warnings: Mentions of historical war and violence.

Word count: 3.6k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @imtheinvisiblequeen @okilover02 @adrenaline-roulette @youngpastafanmug @m-1234 @tensecondvacation @haileymorelikestupid @rogerfuckintaylor @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @im-an-adult-ish @someforeigntragedy @mo-whore @mellowfellowyellow @peculiareunoia @mischiefmanaged71 @fancybenjamin @anne-white-star @theonlyone-meeeee @witchlyboo @demo-wise

There are rumors that a grand duchess survived, of course—they are whispered into life almost immediately after the murders at Yekaterinburg and never quite disappear—although no one can seem to decide which one. Sometimes it’s Maria, sometimes Olga, sometimes me, most often Anastasia; and for years, decades afterwards there are women who periodically surface and claim to be my most undomesticated sister, and each time I know they’re not just by seeing their photograph in the newspapers. The only consensus that can be found is that surely the survivor is not Tatiana, as she never could have vanished into the anonymous ether of humanity, not with that striking, elegant, gem-rare sort of face. No, everyone agrees that the most beautiful Romanov daughter died in Russia; everyone, that is, but Ben.

It is the last day of the October of 1918 when we board a ship bound for the New World. Ben, Joe, and I ascend the steps as Ben’s family—our family, now—waves us off from the dock: August, Kathryn, Opal, Leo, Luther, Ben’s mother…and Frankie, too. He arrived in London six days after our audience with the king, honorable discharge papers in hand and a perplexed yet grateful expression on his face. I don’t know if it was guilt, or a bribe, or one last favor to my father, or simple pure-hearted mercy once his shock and rage bled away, but King George V kept his word about bringing Frankie home. I never ask my uncle about it. I never ask him anything. I never speak to a member of any royal family again.

As we cross the Atlantic—the days shortening, the nights bitterly cold, bobbing dolphins chasing our iron walls, right whales breaching in the distance—Ben and I walk the decks like we did on that bleak journey from Saint Petersburg to London, but this time we do it as Benjamin and Lana Hardy. We married in a brief, uncomplicated ceremony in a tiny Russian Orthodox cathedral we found tucked away in North London; as a wedded couple, we will have a smoother passage through Ellis Island. We have also thought of a way to keep the Romanov jewels safe and undiscovered, as our luggage will almost certainly be searched upon our arrival: we’ve sewn them into our clothes.

Joe, predictably, makes many new friends onboard—Italians, Greeks, Turks, Spaniards, Poles, Russians, Hungarians, Jews—but he grows closest to an Egyptian named Rami. Rami, a Coptic Christian, fled Egypt to escape religious persecution…but not before falling in love with the daughter of a British archaeologist based there. He and Lucy are newlyweds too, always entwining their fingers and gazing into each other’s clear eyes and bubbling over with anticipation for their very own fabled American Dream to begin. Lucy is expecting their first child already, and as we chat away her hand often settles—unthinkingly, instinctively—on the modest swell of her belly.

At Ellis Island, we are pried at and interrogated and examined for any signs of defects, whether mental or physical or of the spirit. And as we are granted entry and rush down the staircase with our hands gliding over flaking metal railings—the same railings gripped by millions seeking new lives here—I remember my dream from the night before we were summoned to Buckingham Palace: water, metal, crowds, cobblestone streets, unfamiliar plants, a cold prickling drink that I will one day recognize as Coca-Cola, innumerable transparent bulbs of light. Perhaps that was more than a dash of intuition. Perhaps it was my parents letting me know it was alright to choose another path.

We find an apartment in Brighton Beach; between the five of us, we can afford to keep it to ourselves without squeezing in any additional boarders. That first night—after Kroshka has been placed in a rented stable stall down the street, after the luggage is unpacked, after we have eaten chebureki purchased from a street vendor, as the cracked and bare walls stare silently back at us—Ben sits down on the scuffed floor and covers his face with his hands, too exhausted to weep but drained and petrified down to the bones. “It’s the responsibility,” he says, and I know exactly what he means: it’s the weight of having to look after his family, Joe, our new friends, me.

The very next day, I get a job at a settlement house three blocks from our apartment. The pay isn’t much, but then again it’s the first time in my life I’ve ever been paid for anything, and so that in itself gives me a great deal of satisfaction. I excel there; I am a proficient typist, I can read and write and speak a myriad of languages, and educated women fluent in Russian are hard to come by in Brooklyn. I teach new arrivals to speak English, I teach children to hold pencils, I teach adults how to find work, I teach women how to escape violent husbands and to prevent unwanted pregnancies. I clean faces and braid hair and look into eyes—shining, hopeful, thankful eyes—that remind me so much of my parents and brother and sisters that my heart aches, and then calms, and then opens wide to swallow up and engulf the abandoned people of this city, of this world. Little do I know that I will work at this same settlement house for fifty-one years, over half a century, longer than either of my parents lived.

Ben starts out at an afternoon daily newspaper company called the Brooklyn Eagle. In his spare time, he writes his own articles and shops around for publications that will take them. When we are in desperate need—when a storm shatters our windows, when the radiator breaks in the middle of January, when I catch pneumonia and need medicine and weeks of bedrest—Ben takes a few of the smallest jewels or a rope of precious metal to a pawn shop on the other side of Brooklyn and returns with a thick stack of bills with Alexander Hamilton’s face on them. Joe gets a job at a pizzeria in Little Italy so he can learn the tricks of the trade before striking out on his own. Rami works there too for a while before finding a position at a tailor shop owned by a Coptic Christian from Luxor.

Once they save up enough money, Rami and Lucy move into their own apartment in Astoria—where many Egyptian families are settling—and promptly fill it with fervently desired children. Joe marries a Sicilian woman named Christabella and moves with her to Little Italy. We see each other several times per week and I am present at each of Lucy’s births. Rami teaches me Arabic. I teach him Italian. Ben teaches me Old English songs from his childhood. Joe teaches us all to make pizza.

Sometimes—as I lay awake at night long after Ben has fallen into sleep, his breathing slow and serene—I wonder what became of the items I left at Buckingham Palace: the books, the scarf, the pillowcase. I wonder if they were lost, or thrown out with the rubbish, or kept by the Prince of Wales as some sort of strange memento. Sometimes I wish I still had them. More often, I am glad that I don’t.

I was a different person then. Perhaps it is better to make a truly clean start.

Within a year, and with the help of a sizeable contribution from me and Ben, Joe has opened up his own pizza shop in Little Italy called Signore Mazzello’s Pizzeria. It frequently has a line wrapped around the block during the lunch rush.

~~~~~~~~~~

It is 1925, and the nation is booming, racing, roaring. I am promoted to Assistant Director of the settlement house. Ben writes an article about his childhood in London and the New York Times buys it. When he sells them another—an anthology of the stories of the other immigrants who share our apartment building, many of them Russian by birth—they offer him a position as a full-time columnist. We stay in Brighton Beach but move to a townhouse on a quiet street with several bedrooms, a stable for Kroshka, and a small, fenced backyard. Ben sends word to his family in London that the time has finally come for them to join us across the Atlantic. They arrive on our doorstep one month later: Ben’s hushed mother, Frankie with his wife Althea, Luther with his fiancé Ethel, Leo with his poems, Opal with her paintings, Kathryn doting on the very slow and very grey basset hounds, August having grown into a singularly joyful and charismatic young man. The original plan was that they would stay with us only until they found their footing in Brooklyn, but as it turns out our home is always full; someone moves out, someone else moves back, it is a carousel of weddings and children and holidays and farewells and reunions. It is an undying warmth and fullness that I never believed I would experience again. It is heaven on earth.

Ben and I have two children, both explicitly planned. Each time he insists that I labor in a hospital, and each time he is in the room with me from start to end. We name them and we love them and we watch them grow like the flora of Central Park: eastern redbuds, blue mistflowers, scarlet beebalms, Carolina springbeauties, cinnamon ferns, calla lilies. Ben’s mother treasures our children and spends hours with them each day. They bring her a new purpose; they bring her peace. She says it is like being able to hold her own lost children again.

We make generous donations to settlement houses throughout New York City. When the aging owner retires, Rami takes over the tailor shop. Joe opens up three additional locations of Signore Mazzello’s Pizzeria throughout Brooklyn.

~~~~~~~~~~

It is 1936, and our adopted country is in the depths of the Great Depression. We help others float through the storm as best we can. At the New York Times, Ben takes on and funds several apprentices from working-class families. We volunteer at soup kitchens. We stock the pantry shelves at the settlement house. We teach our children about egalitarianism and democracy and compassion. We raise them to know nothing of my bloodline. They believe that I am British just as Ben is, and that we met as coworkers in London; we never mention that either of us ever set foot on Russian soil. This is a necessity: however unlikely, I am unwilling to risk the possibility of detection. Every once in a great while someone will give me a second glance, or narrow their eyes, or blink thoughtfully at me as if they have met me once in a dream…but it amounts to nothing. Even the Russian immigrants I work with rarely suspect anything. My accent and dialect are so far removed from theirs—so formal, so educated—that they can believe I learned it from a book. The last Romanov daughter is gone, buried like the rest of them. What is left is only Lana.

At Christmastime—a lean, humble Christmas—I read in the newspaper that David Windsor has abdicated the British throne and passed it on to his dull, dutiful younger brother. David left so he could marry the woman he loved, a woman forbidden to him, a divorced American named Wallis Simpson. As I sit at the kitchen table studying the lines of his face in the black-and-white photograph published on the front page, I wonder if any part of him was thinking of me when he announced his abdication to millions of British subjects via a BBC radio broadcast. I wonder if somewhere in the back of his skull lurked my shadow, my vanishing, my willingness to cut through the ties of royalty to embrace a life of my own choosing.

Rami and Lucy welcome their sixth child, a daughter they call Lana. Ben writes articles imploring the United States to accept refugees fleeing the rise of fascism in Europe. Joe has to close three of his pizzerias, but with a little help from Ben and me (and our stock of clandestine jewels), he is able to hold onto the original location through the worst years the American economy will ever see.

Some people sink, of course; there are always those who will sink. But we pull as many into the life rafts as we can.

~~~~~~~~~~

It is 1958, and Ben and I celebrate our 40 year anniversary with a trip to Australia. We see the kangaroos and koala bears and beaches and the vast, red wildness of the Outback, and while we think of Gwilym and Hazel Lee quite a lot we don’t spend any time at all contemplating the merits or failings of the British Empire. I have learned that it is futile, maddening even, to battle against things so far above my control; it’s like trying to fight the sea or the stars. I cannot set all things right across the globe, but I can improve the circumstances of thousands of souls. Surely there is no better way to repay the debt the Romanovs owed to the world. Surely my parents and siblings would understand if they could see me now…and sometimes, when I dream of them, I like to believe they can.

As I am leafing through a magazine one afternoon, I come across a photograph of David Windsor and his wife Wallis. They are at a polo match or a garden party or something like that—something frivolous, something regal, waving to the paparazzi—and before I can turn the page one detail catches my eye. Looped loosely around Wallis’ thin neck is the green scarf I bought in Moscow. The silver-thread bears are as bright and shimmering as I remember them. Wallis is flashing a wide, triumphant smile to the same reporters who had once maligned her as a conniving, lowborn whore.

He kept my things after all. Why would he do that?

I close the magazine, thinking of the strings that tie people together and then unravel and then come back together again in new designs. I think of how little each of us truly knows. Sometimes that’s a blessing, and sometimes that’s a curse, and sometimes we’ll never know which it is.

I am made Director of the settlement house. Ben is promoted to Deputy Editor of the New York Times. Signore Mazzello’s Pizzeria now has ten locations: four in New York City, one in Baltimore, two in Philadelphia, and three in Chicago. Joe has his sights set on Los Angeles next.

~~~~~~~~~~

It is 1963, and I watch as Walter Cronkite announces that President John F. Kennedy has been assassinated. His wife was right there in the limousine. The new president is sworn in as she stands beside him, shellshocked, embittered, her pink suit stained with her husband’s blood and brains.

Everyone is horrified, and everyone is sad, but my children don’t understand why I cannot stop crying, why I cannot sleep, why I cannot get the vision of a nation’s leader senselessly murdered in front of his family out of my mind. I sit in front of the television with tears leaking ceaselessly from my scarlet eyes, thinking of Papa, Mother, Olga, Tatiana, Maria, Anastasia, Alexei. It’s like I’m back in Saint Petersburg. It’s like I’m learning they were slaughtered all over again.

Only Ben understands. He bundles me into his arms and presses his lips to my temple and whispers that I am safe, that our children are safe, that my family would be proud of me. It is the same way when Malcolm X is killed, and then Martin Luther King Jr., and then Bobby Kennedy. I am torn apart by the thought of their wives and children left bereft, left forever scarred by their murders. It guts me and leaves me bleeding for weeks.

We anonymously donate the last of the Romanov jewels to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. There is fierce public debate for years concerning who came to possess them and how. Each time there is a newspaper article or a television broadcast about the jewels, Ben and I share a small surreptitious smile. Signore Mazzello’s Pizzeria restaurants stretch from the Atlantic to the Pacific and boast over fifty locations. Joe leaves the business to his children to manage and retires with his wife to Atlantic City, New Jersey. He spends his days sunbathing on the beach, playing blackjack, eating cannoli, and gossiping with other Italians.

~~~~~~~~~~

It is July 13th, 1985. There are photographs of the loved ones we’ve lost on the mantle above the fireplace: Willis, Cecil, Louise, Ben’s mother…and there are even a few of Kroshka. The house is full of my children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, Ben’s siblings, our nieces and nephews and their children and their children, too. It is my great-grandson’s tenth birthday. His name—by pure coincidence—is Alexei.

There are children giggling and running through sprinklers in the backyard and basset hounds sniffing after crumbs of hors d'oeuvres and balloons everywhere. The living room is packed with people watching Queen’s performance at Live Aid on our single television, clapping along to Radio Ga Ga. Rami and Lucy arrive with the gift of a handmade sky-blue velvet suit. Joe and Christabella arrive with about twenty boxes of pizza. Ben and I and our two daughters are in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on Alexei’s birthday cake. It’s quite a challenge; Alexei loves dinosaurs, and the stegosaurus made of green icing has plenty of ragged edges to smooth out. Later, when Ben lights the candles, he will use a tarnished steel lighter with a bear carved into one side.

“Papa, Mum, have you seen this?” Tatiana, our eldest, asks. She holds open the pages of Time Magazine. “Some reporter based out of L.A. did a story on the Winter Palace. You know, where the Romanovs lived before they were deposed. He posed as a tourist and took a bunch of photos and smuggled them out of the Soviet Union, and now the Soviets are pissed. They don’t allow photography in the museum. And they definitely don’t want Americans capitalizing on their national historic sites. Anyway, check it out.” She turns the pages. Ben glances over at me. The butterknife has fallen out of my hand and onto the kitchen counter.

“Here, Mum, let me do that,” Louise offers. She plucks a clean knife out of the silverware drawer and resumes the meticulous sculpting of the stegosaurus.

“Amazing, huh?” Tati says, still flipping pages. They’re vivid, bright, in full color; they bring back memories I had forgotten I have. “There’s the Throne Room…the Malachite Room…the ballroom…the gardens…even the—”

“The private family rooms,” I murmur, dazed. “The bedrooms. The study. The dining room.”

“Yeah,” Tati replies. She’s still grinning, but her brow furrows. “Mum…are you okay?”

“She’s fine,” Ben says quickly. “She’s just tired. That stegosaurus has been giving us hell. I love the technique the reporter used here, opening with a vignette…”

Throughout the years, throughout the decades, as the century slips away from me, I have tried to avoid witnessing the calamities of my homeland: famines, purges, dictators, wars, censorship, rivalry, bloodshed and turmoil and insurmountable suffering. I barely recognize it at all; what was once Imperial Russia is now the Soviet Union, what was once Saint Petersburg is now Leningrad, what was once hope and the promise of a better future is now grim authoritarianism. I can still see my family in the Russian immigrants I helped settle here in New York City, but I don’t see them in the modern-day iteration of my birthplace.

But these pictures Tati is showing me, these memories…they are not from some failed, foreign land. They are the places where Papa puffed on his pipe and told us ancient folktales, where Mother read in her wheelchair, where Alexei played with his tiny toy soldiers on the rug in front of the fireplace, where my sisters and I stayed awake laughing and whispering until morning sunrays shone through our bedroom windows.

I reach out to touch the pictures with my fingertips. My hands are wrinkled, knobby, arthritic, just like Mother’s once were. Tati is still watching me, concerned.

“I know, it’s so beautiful, but so sad,” she says. “Knowing that the people who once lived there were murdered so brutally. Those poor kids. To have all this, and then to have nothing. It must have been a miserable last year for them.”

“They didn’t have nothing,” Ben tells Tati gently. “They had their family.”

“Yeah, but I mean…do royal families even really know each other? Don’t they just get together for polo games and tea parties and…I don’t know…arranged marriages?”

“The Romanovs knew each other.” Ben smooths my silver hair fondly. His hands shake a bit now, but they’re still strong, still perfect. His scars have faded with time; they are nearly invisible. It’s almost as if our pasts never happened. It’s almost as if we’ve always been the people we are now, here in the New World surrounded by friends and family and golden possibilities. “They were…a bit of an anomaly among royal families. Nicholas was very attentive to the children, very loving. And Alexandra was too, to the extent that she could be with her poor health. They did everything together. They went sledding and horseback riding and swimming, they told stories, they played games, they shared meals, they took care of each other. They hoped and they worked and they prayed. They tried to shield each other from the burdens the world placed on their backs. In a lot of ways…the Romanovs weren’t all that different from us.”

“Oh, wow,” Tati says, fascinated, awed. “I didn’t know that. They really must have been something.”

Ben looks over at me, smiling. “They were.”

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whump-captain · 2 years

Text

No. 3 - Hair’s breadth from death

Gun to temple | “Say goodbye.” | Impaled

OC: Felix Lawrence (more here, here, and here)

i genuinely didn’t expect to come back to these ocs but here i am bc the prompt once again fit perfectly to a scene i had in mind for them specifically. to summarize the lore: Felix is a scientist who was lured into captivity by a man called The Figure, who uses him in various experiments studying the eldritch phenomenon of the Stream. the house they’re in is sentient and it has the power to heal any injury sustained by anybody inside it. Nishat is an Egyptian scholar and private eye, employed by the Crown to get to the bottom of the assorted mysteries surrounding the Stream and Alina is her partner who comes from an underground community of Eastern European pagans.

there’s. a Lot there lmao

---

CN: threats, mentioned long-term captivity, impaling, rescue, body horror, gore, magical healing.

---

It wasn't the river that sent rumbling through the walls of the house.

It was footsteps.

Felix stood nailed to the floor, struck still by emotions he had nearly forgotten. Everything seemed foreign, inside and out - the walls that he knew so well for the months he'd spent trapped between them; and the storm of thoughts that spun in his head, desperately blowing away the traces of this abandoned, treacherous feeling.

Hope.

The Figure burst into the room in a flurry of rage. Felix was too frozen to even flinch from him as the man demanded:

"Did you do this?"

"No," Felix rasped out. Everything was muffled by those footsteps, the distant presence of people. It enveloped him completely, mercilessly stoked the hope that he would be a fool to feel. But he felt it still, so fiercely that it wrapped around his throat like a noose.

The Figure circled, robes swirling around him like storm clouds. The light from the fireplace cast his wild shadows across the room and shrunk it into a cage, darkened the air itself into black. He grabbed a fire iron from the wall and rushed at Felix, shoved him against the wall. He pushed the iron under his chin, strangling Felix's cry with deadly force at his windpipe.

"Did you mention this house in your letters?" he hissed. The black silhouette filled Felix's vision, extinguished everything else. "Did you give away our location?"

"No," Felix repeated, voice trembling but strong. "How could I? The house wouldn't let me, it- it shielded us. It would obscure my words every time, it wouldn't allow me to write anything that could lead to it." Despite the shudder that ran through him at the memory, Felix was certain. Though he would never admit to it, he had tried hiding pleas for help in his letters before but each time he was stopped by the very paper he had written on. Ink would spill or disappear, it would grow suddenly hot and burn through the paper wherever he placed cyphers or clues. Any address he'd tried to sneak in would rearrange itself into nonsense; any hint into ambiguity. And if he persisted, his vision would swim and a headache would grip him so suddenly that he would stagger and be forced to put down the pen.

"It was the house," he said. The pressure on his throat eased slightly. "It- decided to stop hiding itself. For whatever reason it might have, it wants to be found. I had no hand in this."

The Figure's ice cold eyes bore into his, the shadowed face indecipherable under the hood. A door slammed somewhere in the distance and Felix felt his heart squeezed by a burning pang of hope.

"I believe you," said The Figure eventually. He released Felix, leaving him gasping, and listened to the slowly approaching sounds. The fire iron scraped the floor as he stalked towards the window.

"This house is lost," he uttered to himself, voice filled with something almost like disgust. He turned to Felix again, a black shape on the background of the storm outside.

"This concludes your role, Professor Lawrence," he said. Felix's heart squeezed tighter. He couldn't bear to indulge this hope any longer but The Figure's words were as clear as they could be.

"It pains me that your mind has remained so closed," The Figure continued. The fire iron scraped forward again. "You have met many of my expectations. But the Stream is now lost to you." He closed the distance and loomed over Felix, casting a cold, suffocating shadow.

"Now hear," he said, leaning in close. "If you speak a word of me to anyone, believe me that I will find you. You have been of great help but you have also tried my patience dearly and if you betray me now there will be no distance, no power, and no living person in this world that could keep you from the consequences." His voice dropped to a whisper. It came over Felix's mind like a lapping wave and sent him sinking; back in time, down into memories of agony. "Do you think you know torment? If you force my hand, I will track you down and I will make you long for what you used to call torment. Am I understood?"

Breath left Felix's body and his voice failed him. Pressing his back into the wall, as far as he could from that dreadful whisper, all he could do was nod.

"Good," said The Figure. "Now you will stay here."

He pulled back a fraction and then drove the fire iron into Felix's stomach. It pierced through skin and muscle, tearing tissue like thunder splits tree bark, until it ripped its way out of his back in a burst of blood and embedded itself in the wood of the wall.

The pain undid him, exploded in a ravenous blaze that burned away everything he ever was. He had to scream but the air was acid; he couldn't take a breath. His hands rushed to the wound, clawing fingers slipping on his own blood that slicked the corrugated iron. Eyes wide, mouth agape and trembling with soundless sobs, he gripped the rod impaling him like the last lifeline in a storm.

The Figure's voice came from impossibly far and Felix's reeling mind never registered his words: "Not a word of me to anyone."

And then:

"Farewell."

He turned in a whirl of black robes and disappeared in the depths of the house. Distant footsteps grew closer, but Felix couldn't hear them either. A single, shuddering groan forced its way out of his throat. At his feet, a puddle of crimson grew, rippled by falling drops of both blood and tears.

The rumble in the walls finally reached a crescendo. The door burst open and a crowd filed in, men and women armed with truncheons and dressed identically in pitch black trench coats. Gasps sounded out at the sight of the scene; somebody whispered: "God above." Felix's head lurched up on a convulsive spasm.

"Help me," he whispered.

Through the crowd, a woman pushed to the front, silver-haired and steel-eyed: detective Nishat Al-Hayim. With a frown across her dark, noble features, she swept the room with a single gaze and her hand shot up in a sharp gesture.

"You, upstairs," she ordered. Three people split away from the group. "You, down." Another three. "Do not separate. Don't touch anything you can't identify. Alina, Cowlton, you're with me. Go."

The small groups raced off into the dark. Left at Nishat's side was a round, powerfully built woman with European features and a lanky young man who snapped to attention when the detective said his name:

"Cowlton." She called him forth with another tip of the hand. "You trained with a doctor, am I right, son?"

"For a term, yes," he answered quickly.

"That's enough." She glanced from him to Alina, then to the trembling form of the man pinned to the wall. The biting stench of blood cut into her senses and she had to push down nausea. "What do we do?"

"God." Cowlton's hands hovered. He took in the blood soaking Felix's clothes; the foot and a half of iron buried in his stomach; the ragged, keening breaths he forced in and out. "Don't move him yet. If we remove this, he'll bleed out. We have to get him to a doctor, only then-"

Felix whimpered, uncurled to turn his wild eyes towards them. "No," he choked out. "Please- take it out. Please."

Nishat leaned in closer, close enough to hear the man's chattering teeth. "That would kill you," she said, voice cool and even. "Listen to me. We are here to help you. You have to be seen by a doctor and-"

Felix grabbed blindly at the iron and pulled. A desperate scream came from between clenched teeth, his hands shook and slipped on the blood.

Alina cried: "Hey!"

"Stop him!" yelled Nishat.

Alina seized Felix's hands, wrenched them away from the barely visible wound. He sobbed, voice breaking and hitching, as he repeated over and over: "Please. Please, take it out, please, please."

Cowlton dashed to Alina's side, only hesitated a second before crouching to examine the injury. Nishat stepped back to give him space but then his face blanched. One stunned, wide-eyed look from him was enough to call her closer and kick her pulse into double-time.

The wound looked harrowing, but not only because of its ripped edges, torn further with every movement; nor because of the blood leaving it in weak, rhythmical spurts of a tortured pulse. Around the embedded iron the mangled flesh shifted and bulged, squirming like an organism of its own. Slick red strands of severed muscle crawled over each other like growing vines and shreds of half-peeled skin spread and contracted in sickening patterns. All of it recoiled away from the iron, around which blood pooled, shed by the ruptured veins faster than the writhing tissue could absorb it.

"The house," Felix breathed. "It can't- it can't heal me like this. Please. Take it out."

Nishat could only stare, eyes anchored by terror and wonder to the gruesome spectacle of the wound attempting to knit itself closed. None of what she'd been told had prepared her for this. She reached deep into the frozen emptiness in her mind and caught the single spark still glinting. She fanned it, kindled it, and let it grow into a matchstick flame of cold, detached focus.

She glanced at Alina, searching her friend's face for an explanation but the other woman just shook her head. Neither her folk knowledge nor Nishat's lifetime of learning allowed what they were seeing to be possible.

So with the impossible they had to contend.

Nishat exhaled sharply. "Dislodge it from the wall first," she said, looking in turn at her two subordinates. "Let's get him down, get space to work. Cowlton, steady him."

The young man nodded, face ashen but set in determination. He stood back up to meet the pinned man's tearful gaze with his own.

"You are in good hands, sir," he said with remarkable calm. Felix's frantic eyes locked on him, his gasping breaths faltered as he fought to control them. "Keep looking at me," Cowlton said, gently grabbing his shoulders. "Keep breathing."

Nishat nodded to Alina; the other woman was already in place, ready to apply her strength where it was needed. Nishat retrieved her knife and opened it with a flick of her wrist. The wall was soft wood under her palm and she ignored the gentle vibration she could swear she felt running through it.

The tip of the fire iron was lodged across the join of two planks. Nishat could barely see it, shadowed by Felix's body and glistening black with his blood. There were mere inches of space between the wall and his back, not enough for Nishat to reach in. Instead, she slid the blade of her knife flat against the wall until a soft clink told her it met the iron. With a precise twist, she angled it as much as she could. Her hand brushed against Felix's body and she felt him shivering. The touch of his blood-soaked clothes brought the metallic stench back to the forefront of her mind. She grimaced.

Gently but surely, she let the tip of the knife bury itself in the wall, then she tilted and twisted until she felt the wood give way. Splinter after splinter, she chipped away at the planks, slowly widening the crack where the iron was stuck.

Then, suddenly, the wood creaked and the iron dislodged. Deprived now of the cruel support, Felix crumpled down with a groan, his legs finally allowed to give out. Alina caught him deftly, with one hand on his chest and the other on his back, carefully avoiding the protruding iron. Felix gasped and shuddered in her grasp as the new motion tore his flesh further. Alina held him steady, waiting. Finally, when his breathing evened into long, wheezing keens, she slowly lowered him down to the floor, resting his head on her bent knees. "Easy now," she said.

Nishat threw a questioning glance at Cowlton and he was ready, too. He had slipped off his trench coat and knelt now in just a waistcoat and rolled up shirtsleeves. With a gesture he directed Nishat to crouch at Felix's legs.

"I will need you to hold him down," he said. His eyes jumped between the detective and Alina, pointedly avoiding looking at his patient even as he addressed him nervously: "Sir, you are in good hands. There is nothing to worry about. I may not be a certified doctor yet, but-"

"Cowlton," Nishat cut in and he immediately went silent. Jaw set tight, he used his own knife to cut away the fabric of Felix's clothing, exposing the ghastly wound. He placed one careful hand on Felix's chest and wrapped the other around the fire iron.

Nishat put her whole body weight on Felix's ankles in the exact same moment that Cowlton pulled. Felix's body jerked into an arch. He howled; an agonized, stuttering, animalistic sound. Alina pinned his arms as he screamed and thrashed with inhuman force, almost knocking Nishat off-balance. Blood pooled out rapidly, the air grew thick with it.

Felix's voice broke into sobs. His chest heaved, every convulsive inhale igniting the agony anew as his lungs begged for air. Inch after horrible inch, the iron's torturous motion tore new shreds out of his body, painted all he saw in burning red and all he felt in ruin. No memory survived the blaze and no thought was left in his mind, nothing other than this hopeless, all-encompassing pain. Half-formed pleas died in his throat before he could cry them: pleas for mercy, for death, for the pain to stop. He could only scream, writhing and choking as this suffering demanded to claim his voice and his mind.

Then the sharp tip iron emerged from among the gore, like the sting of an insect finally sated with blood. Cowlton threw it away like it burned him and the metal's clang was dampened by carpeting.

Shaking all over, Felix drew in pained, heaving breaths. His hands drifted to cover the gaping wound but Alina held him firmly - both to stop him hurting himself further and to allow Nishat to closely observe what took place next.

Like cloth on a loom, the massacred tissue slowly tangled itself together. Deep in the wound’s cavity, the slick strands of fat and muscle reached to each other and melted back into layer after layer of undamaged flesh. They grew out like a blooming red flower until unevenly expanding patches of skin met over it and sealed it without a trace. Before Nishat's very eyes, thin hairs reemerged from the pristine new skin, fitting perfectly into the pattern that covered the rest of Felix's stomach. In only a few heartbeats, the fatal wound faded into nothing and left behind no scar.

Nishat pierced Cowlton with a gaze but already knew from his expression that he did not have any answers. His bloodied hands hung in the air between them, he didn't dare to lower them down to his lap. Alina's eyes were locked on him too and despite the river's chill, her forehead glistened with sweat.

She released her grip and let Felix curl in on himself with a long, trembling groan. His eyes were screwed shut, a grimace still twisting his features as he breathed heavily, in and out, very slowly dragging his consciousness back to a world beyond pain. Though the wound was gone, his heart still pounded with the exertion of suffering and a leaden weight had settled in his limbs like smoke after a blaze. His vision swam, still tinted red.

Only one thing he saw clearly: the young man in front of him, worry on his face and blood on his fingers. Only one feeling emerged from the aching haze: the careful hands steadying from behind as, with tremendous effort, he pushed himself up to sit. Only one sound came to him clear, like a smooth blade parting a veil of fear and tension that had suffocated him for so long: the cool voice of detective Nishat Al-Hayim.

She asked: "Are you professor Felix Lawrence?"

His throat was still raw and his breath still stuttering but it was not pain that choked his words before they came. It was the sudden grip of that old, half-forgotten emotion, no clearer than a memory and so excruciating that he couldn't believe he even dared to feel it. His voice wouldn’t obey him.

He nodded.

Footsteps rushed in again and three people emerged from the darkness of the house.

"Empty," one of the men reported. "There's a boat missing."

Nishat thanked him with a sharp nod. The race of thoughts in her head showed itself as a frown falling across her features, deepening the wrinkles around her eyes. She turned back to Felix and took in his ashen, tear-streaked face; his eyes lit up like pyres with a sickly, desperate hope.

"I will have questions for you," she said.

#whumptober2022 #no.3 #impaled #oc #writing #gore #body horror #captain's stuff #captain's ocs #boy this one took me a while #oh no i want to develop these ocs now #this story is good bc there's magical healing so i can throw whatever i want at felix w/ zero consequences #so anything more extreme than stabbings and mild torture im inclined to give to him #anyway impaling my beloved #felix lawrence

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autismsupermusicalassassin · 1 year

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Day n Light (a moonknight star wars crossover)

plot: after the fight with the first order on Crait , Poe Dameron starts having dreams about a mysterious man with DID ties with the Moon god. Poe, Rey and Finn including the adorable BB8 lands on earth accidentally after being attack by the first order. With three of them separated they met Steven Grant/ Marc Spector after an mistaken Identity , the four must help stop forces beyond their level.

Chapter 7

Rey , Finn, bb-8 and Steven including Marc left the museum thanks to Rey using the force on Donna to Steven to get off work early to figure out what was going on “how did you do that ms Rey?” Steven asked in shock and a bit smitten towards her “Steven focus ,Hand me the body let me deal with this situation “ Marc said in his head more rudely than ever , Steven didn’t listen to him and instead fallows them “I am focusing Marc “ he said out loud on accident making Finn jump a bit “Poe stop talking to yourself, your literally freaking me out with self talking “ Finn told Steven making him say “sorry” quietly.

Seeing Steven’s/ Marc's apartment where bb-8 was staying. Both Finn and Rey made faces at the mess and ankle Restraints “Oh yeah about that, I used to sleep with that “ Steven told them , Finn look at him at his responds

“Used to??”

“I thought I have terrible sleepwalking before well…all this “ Finn stood silent and steps away from him , Leaving Rey looking at all of the Egyptian stuff and she look at Gus 2.0 in awe unaware of Marc’s reflection glaring back at her “What kind of small creature is that?” She asked “Oh that’s a goldfish his name is Gus 2.0” He answered “What happened to Gus 1?” Finn asked and frowns when BB-8 told Finn that the first fish died making him frown “sorry about that fish Poe”

“It’s Steven mate and it’s alright “

Finn just nods and fiddles with a paper wight that shape as a Pyramids and spots Rey looking at a book which he joins her seeing similar pictures at the museum earlier “Mr.Grant what kind of language is that?” Steven smiles sheepishly “Well its Egyptian Hieroglyphics isn’t an Langue per say , it’s actually an Alphabet use in their writing” Steven could go on but Marc decided to stop him “Steven can we focus on finding their friend and we need deal with stuff” he told him .

Finn didn’t know what to think about this Poe looked like , he either found it scary and interesting that this guy knows about this Egypt place but his friend is still out there, and Rey must have read his thoughts “don’t worry Finn…we’ll find Poe” she told him.

“How about you use your thing you did to me and Steven to find him” Marc said making the couple look at him , to be fair he took control back to his own body while Steven was distracted “hey you two I’m Marc Spector” he told them Finn smiled finally this man isn’t using that accent and yep he is weirded out by his voices is similar to Poe’s voice “ I know “ Rey said to Marc and bb-8 lightly dumps to Marc’s leg making him smiling a little “ I’m Rey “

“And I’m Finn”

Marc nods “so I heard and both of you don’t have last names” both of them nodded making Marc frown “ okay then Rey can you use that magic thing to find your friend?”

Rey made a face “ it’s called the force Mr Spector and…. I can try “ Rey sits on the ground cross legged and starts concentrating on finding Poe Dameron. “So how do you talk to …Steven?” Finn asks and Marc tells the kid that he is available to talk to Steven through his reflection on reflective surfaces and sometimes in his headspace “oh so that why you talk to yourself?” Marc nods and Rey gasps in fear “Rey what happened?!?” Marc rushes towards her along with Finn “I found him” she only answers making Marc get her water leaving Finn to blush at the fact he is holding her “you found Poe?” She nodded after handing the glass of water to drink.

“He is in trouble but he’s not alone “ she told them, “first order?” Finn frowns “no Finn but some one named Khonso “

“Khonsu…..the moon god of Egypt “

Both of them including bb-8 look at Marc “how do you know?” They asked Marc even though Rey knows the answer “Steven and I work for him, we protect people at night and we are his avatar….his Moon Knight”

A/N: finally chapter 7 is finally here !!!! Sorry it took so long because of my giant writers block 😤

#Star Wars moon knight crossover #poe dameron #star wars sequel trilogy #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #rey of jakku #bb8 #finn star wars #finnrey

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rakkiankh · 2 years

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The extent of my Yugiouh knowledge is watching a couple abridged episodes, watching Little Kuriboh's Lady Gaga song parodies, and making a pair of OCs (it was a chick who finds Yugi absolutely obnoxious plus her millennium item friend who was in love with... uh... Yami? Atem?... With Yugi but tall). So sitting here scrolling through your posts is just like "I am fascinated and I know so little." Is fun

Yugioh is a goddamn train wreck.

The first seven volumes of the manga got censored and rewritten into an anime by Toei, that hasn't been acknowledged in over 20 years outside of copyright takedowns.

By the 8th volume, Kazuki Takahashi had struck gold with a one off game called Duel Monsters that he then pivoted the entire series from a villain of the week formula to one where people fight to the death with pieces of paper in fights that can last for half a volume. This got made into a completely separate anime by Studio Gallop that retconned literally everything that happened in the previous anime/first 7 volumes.

Then came 4kids. Not only did they change so many things from the original studio Gallop version that they've been the butt of internet jokes for years but they actually paid studio Gallop to make more filler of the show. At least 2 seasons of content not seen anywhere else in canon was funded by 4kids into this series, and most of it contradicts things that happen in the same show.

Did you know Alexander the Great was a yugioh character? He wielded ancient egyptian magic, and split into a good side and bad side after he died in an egyptian pyramid that was in the middle of India for no reason? Because thanks to 4kids, thousands of dollars were spent to animate that very thing and even though it's technically a spin off series several streaming services have just stuck it in the middle of the actual show.

The final arc of the manga was tragically rushed because the Takahashi was hospitalized during the previous arc and was terrified with the idea that he could die before finishing the series.

This resulted in many unfortunate decisions like making the plot make no sense, almost completely forgetting to do the one thing that was foreshadowed early in the series to the point it got tacked on after the big bad was killed despite it making no sense, and probably most tragically, giving the main antagonist a massive dragon dick for no fucking reason. Makes it really hard to take him seriously.

Studio Gallop tried to fix this broken mess, and while they improved a couple things they also managed to make it worse. They also kept the dragon dick which makes literally every attempt 4kids made to censor it really fucking funny so maybe it isn't that bad.

Now why did I feel the need to respond to your ask with such a long, detailed explanation of this series, anon? Because unfortunately, even with my knowledge of the series I barely know what's going on either. There are at least 3 different canons going on at once and they don't usually line up with each other.

Yugioh is very much a train wreck. It's both amazing to witness, batshit insane and really fucking bad at points, and once you look at it you can't look away.

With that said I do recommend it if you're willing to go through all that, the characters are great and you don't even need to understand the card game to enjoy it cuz I sure as he'll don't.

#also yami and Atem are both correct #yami was the fandom nickname for him because figuring out his name is the point of the final arc #which made it hard to talk about him since they usually just called him yugi #yugioh #sorry i needed to get this off my chest #yugioh duel monsters #ygo #ygo dm

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mentally1deficient-sapphic · 2 years

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Bullocks

Characters: Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Layla El Faouly

CW: desperation, omorashi, partial wetting. Not your cup of tea? Dont read :)

~~~~~

Steven was sitting at his small desk in his tiny apartment. He was reading over ancient Egyptian manuscripts. You see, Steven sometimes hyper fixates on certain stuff, and forgets to do the necessary things like eating, sleeping, and going to the bathroom. The first two he remembered today, but the last one..lets just say he forgot about it.

He had to get up to get one of his papers. Gravity wasn't on his side as the pressure from standing made him grab his crotch in desperation he didn't even know he had. He squirmed for a few seconds and twisted his legs into a pretzel. Khonshu decided to show his boney ass at that moment.

“Worm are you alright? You look like a pretzel.”

“Yeah, ‘m alright.” He reluctantly removed his hands from his crotch and untwisted his legs.

“I assume you want Marc yeah?” He allowed Marc to front. He realized the pressure he felt form his bladder but didn’t say anything about it. It’s not like Khonshu would let him go when it’s time for him to go out..

“Let’s go, my Avatar.” He summoned the suit and jumped out of the window, forgetting about his little problem for the time being.

He went out at about 8, and by 12 am, he couldn’t stand still. When taking out bad people, he would squirm so much and wouldn’t be able to stay in one spot. He decided he was done for the day and started jumping on the tops of buildings, trying to get home as fast as possible. When he landed, he stumbled. Multiple times he had to stop and squeeze his thighs.

He refused to grab himself.

Since a young age, Marc’s been told that he needs to wait if he has to go to the bathroom in public. Being obvious about his desperation, like grabbing himself, would get him spanked. So he never does it. He can never bring himself to. Even though his mom is dead, he can’t break certain habits. Khonshu didn’t like the idea of Marc going home early.

“My avatar, why are you turning in so early? I sent you in that direction for a reason.” Khonshu looked down at him. Marc tried not to squirm under his gaze but failed. He mumbled out a response with a blush on his face.

“Speak up Marc.”

“I-I need to go to the..bathroom. Badly.” He shifted from side to side still trying not to be obvious.

“We’ll why didn’t you go before you went out?”

“I-I thought you wouldn’t let me..”

He sighed at Marc.

“Go, Marc. But you are staying out later tonight.” He ran, well more like stumbled, back to his house, but the window was closed. He remembered that he invited Layla over, Stevens request, to talk more about Egyptian stuff. He groaned as he realized he’d have to get to his apartment the normal way.

He was basically breakdancing while waiting for the elevator. He ran in and spammed the button for his floor. Steven was in the metal reflection holding himself. Guess he could feel it too.

“M-Marc are you gonna go to the loo anytime soon? It’s getting really bad.”

“What do you thing I’m doing?” He growled back. He was getting annoyed and just wanted to piss. He ran to his door and knocked frantically, having to grab himself. The run to the door had pushed him enough to make him grab his crotch.

“Hey Marc I was wait-“

He pushed her inside and ran to the bathroom. He couldn’t even close the door. The suit faded form around him and his hands shook as he tried to undo his belt. He couldn’t get it down.

“Layla!” Marc whined. Yes, whined. She rushed in and saw him hobbling around the toilet trying to get his belt to work.

“Marc do you need help?”

“Layla bloody help me please!” Steven fronted, Marc being to stressed to continue. She ran over and fumbled with his belt, all the while Stevens hands we’re digging into his thighs, not wanting to hinder Layla with her help.

“Bullocks!” He felt a short stream warm his boxers. Layla pulled down his belt, bringing down his pants and boxers. Not a moment to soon either. Steven was already spraying a heavy stream into his pants. His cock sprang up as the liquid loudly splashed into the toilet. It sounded like frying chicken. Layla had to hold him up. He was too blissed out to care at the moment.

The steam went on for about two minutes before it tampered off. Steven didn’t seem to notice. His head was tilted all the way back. Layla sheepishly tucked him back into the slightly wet boxers and pants. She retired his belt and lead him to the bed.

Steven seemed to finally snap out of it as he popped up and looked at the wet patch in his pants. He started spitting out rapid fire apologies.

“I’m so sorry Layla but I really had to go since like eight but I forgot and then we had to out and be MoonKnight but then it got really bad and-“

“Steven it’s okay. Just don’t wait so long next time.” She smiled at him sweetly. He chuckled at that.

“No promises luv.”

Khonshu appeared in the room and, if you knew him, could see a look of almost concern in his..beak?

“Are you alright worm?”

“Fine thank you.” He shrugged.

“You can stay in tonight. I know you were stressed out a moment ago.”

“Thanks big bird.”

“Don’t make me regret it.”

~~~~~ i wrote this while i was high wtf

#omorashi #fictomo #marvel omorashi

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pass1onepr1ncess · 3 months

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I've mentioned Genshin on this blog and posted an art piece a bit ago about Furina for 4.2 but here's my first actual Genshin text post.

I have a lot of mixed feelings on Sumeru. When I first saw the characters, I was extremely disappointed. The designs are pretty cool in terms of clothing and shape and such, but the skin colors are so pale for a nation based on SWANA and Egyptian cultures. Not to say that either of these groups can't be pale or light-skinned, but like. When your darkest characters are Cyno and Candace and they're still BARELY dark at all? It just rubs me the wrong way. Not only that, but Nahida- the Archon of said nation- being nearly PAPER white is just. Hm. Idk. But the stories and personalities of these characters are really good! I think other than Fontaine, the Sumeru characters are some of my favorites in terms of backstory! Plus, as we get more nations and Hoyo actually starts to know what they're doing, the cast of each nation has intertwining relationships and dynamics and it's wonderful!! Cyno, Tighnari, and Collei are such a sweet found family dynamic, Kaveh and Alhaitham are so so chewable whether you ship them or not, Candace and Dehya being the girl's girls of the desert while still being strong fighters and warriors is lovely!! And I could talk about Nahida and Wanderer all day, don't even get me started. Or Nilou, Dehya, and Dunyarzad! The fact that even an NPC was so well done!!

And the stories of Sumeru are good, don't get me wrong. The Archon Quest was a wild ride and it was extremely captivating, but here's the thing. Every single Sumeru quest feels like I have to spend three months to get them done.They have good stories to tell and they're genuinely really interesting, but because doing the actual quests takes for-fucking-ever, I lose interest and start skipping dialogue and such. And listen, I'm a lore-player. I play Genshin specifically for the lore, and I just cannot sit through this fucking Aranara quest. Everytime it tells me to go do another side quest, my love for Sumeru drops a little bit more and more.

Sumeru isn't my least favorite nation. Well, it just barely misses that mark. Inazuma is at the bottom of the list solely because the way they did the Archon Quest has the exact opposite problem of Sumeru: It felt rushed and ended so abruptly, and I felt like I didn't have time to connect to any of the main characters in the quest. I think this could be solved at least a little bit by having Ei's story quest be part of the Archon Quest where we go and battle Raiden Shogun. And the reason I say this isn't even necessarily to make the Archon Quest longer but because I feel like without it, the Archon Quest isn't complete.

The whole reason Ei and Raiden put Inazuma in a lockdown was because of two factors: the Fatui's manipulation and Ei's grief for Makoto. We solved the Fatui issues in the Archon Quest, but that was only part of it. The reason Ei and Raiden were able to be tricked by the Fatui in the first place was because of her grief, because she doesn't want anything in Inazuma to change after Makoto's death and she's willing to go to extreme measures to keep it that way because she's grieving for Makoto and doesn't want to- or rather can't- let go of the past. We hardly touch on that in the Archon Quest, so it feels like we only solve part of the problem. Ei still isolates herself in her Plane of Euthymia and meditates, still dwelling on the past and letting her grief consume her.

But in her story quest, we see her start to heal and let go and we see her grief start to lessen. It doesn't go away right away, of course, that's not how grief works, but we see her make progress and realize that she has to move on in order to help both herself and her nation. And that is what makes the whole story of Inazuma complete. The source of the Sakoku Decree to keep Inazuma the same was because she wanted to keep everything as it was when Makoto was the Electro Archon, like how a parent will keep their kid's bedroom untouched even after that kid grows up and moves away. It was because of that mindset of holding on to Makoto that she didn't see how the Fatui were pulling the strings and hurting her people. But because of the events in her story quest, she's able to see past her pain and past Makoto and realize that her people need her.

But again, because that was in her story quest and not the Archon Quest, it feels unfished and rushed. And then with Sumeru, it just feels like they stretch it out too far and fill their quests with a lot of unnecessary details and small side quests. It drags it out too long and I start to lose interest in the actual important parts of the story. It kinda feels like Sumeru is a big run-on sentence, if that makes sense? I've spent so fucking long on this Aranara quest and I'm STILL not done, it's insane.

In a way, especially with Sumeru being released directly after Inazuma, it was like they reazlied Inazuma was so rushed and went "Well, we gotta make the next one longer!" and then turned the dial WAY too far to the other side.

Anyway, that's all I really had to say! Like I said, they're getting better at handling these issues as we get more nations and they listen to the players. Fontaine was absolutely wonderful! Not too short, not too long, and the characters and dynamics were great!! I'm a little scared for Natlan since Hoyo has such a shit reputation for handling any culture that's not European or East Asian, but I'm not gonna get my hopes up just to be disappointed, but here's to hoping that at least the stories will be good!

#genshin impact #sumeru #genshin #inazuma #trish rambles

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