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anonymousewrites · 1 month

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Burden of Truth (Book 1) Prologue

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Reader

Prologue: On the Precipice

Summary: In 2018, (Y/N) discovers grief as people turn to dust and the world turns to chaos.

Mouse Note: Welcome to Burden of Truth! Kind of a rough beginning, but, hey, how else do you become an Avatar to a god? Anyways, housekeeping: This is a platonic fic, so anyone who suggests anything inappropriate between an adult and minor will be blocked and deleted. That's pretty much it, but I wanted to make it clear. As for the actual fic, there aren't any warnings other than the violence that Marvel shows. I'm really excited to share this series! Please feel free to comment since I'm always up to answering questions and replying to comments. Plus it makes me keep writing. Without further ado, though, please enjoy!

2018…

(Y/N) gasped for breath, but their lungs refused to bring in the air they needed. Every limb ached, and their heart beat against their chest. It stuttered, refusing to work correctly. The edges of (Y/N)’s visions blurred to black.

Everything had gone wrong. They had thought this summer would be a beautiful one, traveling with their parents. Egypt was lovely, and (Y/N) liked to listen to their parents—anthropology and history professors—tell them about the rich history and culture of the country.

Plus, they were far away from New York where strange aliens had recently attacked and fought Iron Man and a strange wizard. They were safe with their family and free to enjoy themself.

And then people turned to dust.

Screams echoed as loved ones disappeared before people’s very eyes. Cars crashed without drivers. Buses overturned and threw out people and sand. Cries went out as crashes sent metal through limbs—through torsos.

Through (Y/N)’s torso.

(Y/N) couldn’t even move to cover their chest as it bled. They didn’t try to. They knew they were dying. They didn’t want to (gods, please, no, I don’t want this I don’t want this) but they were.

And they couldn’t even reach out to hold their mom and dad’s hands. (Y/N) felt like a child again, but unlike nightmares, they couldn’t run to their parents’ arms to feel safe. Even if they could, the chill of death had already taken their parents’ warmth and comfort.

(Y/N) wished they’d all turned to dust. This was violent, painful, agonizing. Their parents had laid beside them in distress, calling out for help and rescue, dying. No one had come.

And now (Y/N) was alone—the world hadn’t even been kind enough to let them die before their parents.

This was just so wrong. Unfair. Unjust.

“It is unjust.” A calm voice spoke.

(Y/N) didn’t move. They couldn’t, and they were already dying. Their situation couldn’t get worse.

“I can feel your pain.”

This time, a woman, taller than humanely possible, appeared in their line of sight. She knelt among the dust and bodies of the bus and gazed at (Y/N).

She was Egyptian, dressed in a red gown, and wore an intricate necklace of gold and turquoise. Multicolored Sleeves swept out with her arms like wings. Silky black hair fell around her shoulders, and her eyes were lined in kohl. An ostrich feather stood in a circlet and swayed in the wind.

(Y/N)’s eyes landed on the feather, and something in their chest pulled towards it.

The woman tilted her head and watched them in assessment. “You sense the truth.”

“Who…” (Y/N)’s hoarse voice died.

“I am the goddess Ma’at.” The wind whipped around her as she spoke. “I am in search of a guardian. To uphold justice in the face of wrongdoing. To protect harmony from discord. To defend truth from falsehood.”

(Y/N) coughed, and Ma’at tilted her head.

“I can see the truth in your heart. You want justice for everyone who suffers like you,” said Ma’at. She leaned in. “Pledge yourself to me, pledge yourself to the truth, and I will give you the life to do so.”

(Y/N) looked into Ma’at’s eyes and summoned all their strength left.

“Yes.”

2023…

(Y/N) crouched on the roof and dropped onto the balcony below them. The house around them was quiet. The security guards were clueless to their approach, which was just fine. They didn’t want any attention.

(Y/N) opened the sliding door of the balcony and slipped into the display room. They glanced around themself in distaste. None of the artifacts in glass cases belonged to the owner of this house. He’d “acquired” them in the aftermath of the Blip left countries in disarray, just so like many others.

After the return of the Blipped, the problem of stolen artifacts had only gotten worse since the chaos had begun again, letting more people profit off the displaced people and their possessions.

(Y/N) had spent years repatriating the stolen relics from the aftermath of the Blip. This man, Mr. Medrano, was among the worst offenders. He lied about his findings as an “archaeologist” and stole what he needed for glory. And along the way, he removed any competition. A thief, a liar, and a killer. Medrano was a man who brought injustice of all kinds to the world.

And that was precisely what (Y/N) stood against—what Ma’at stood against.

(Y/N) stopped in front of a case of Egyptian artifacts. Their eyes scanned the contents for the relic they were supposed to bring back to Egypt (send back, really, by way of another person. (Y/N) was still just a teenager, so they couldn’t send it back themself without raising suspicions. Luckily, putting something in a hidden box and not showing their face did the trick).

(Y/N) frowned. The hieroglyphic tablet of Tethering wasn’t on the wall. It seemed they were later than expected, and Medrano had begun to work on translation.

Which means it’ll be in his office.

(Y/N) went to the door of the display room and peeked outside. No light, no movement. They moved into the hall and crept down towards the room at the other side of the house. Making sure their gloves were on—no sense leaving fingerprints—(Y/N) reached out and felt the door handle.

The door was unlocked.

Gently, (Y/N) opened it.

Shick!

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, and they took a step back. A man in a white, bandage-like suit stood above Medrano. He pulled two crescent-shaped blades from his chest, and Medrano’s body slumped to the ground. The man paused and looked towards the door, the moon sighting the crescent-illusion in his hood and the symbol on the forehead and chest.

“There wasn’t supposed to be anyone here,” said the man, but (Y/N) felt in their heart that he wasn’t speaking to them.

“Does it matter? Your job is to punish the wrongdoers in this mansion.”

(Y/N) blinked as they heard a voice echo from behind them. It was a god’s voice. Not Ma’at, no, but most definitely a deity.

“I won’t hurt a kid, Khonshu,” snapped the avatar, and his hood folded back.

(Y/N) turned around and found themself staring up (really up) at a half-man, half-bird skeleton in white wrappings. This was Khonshu.

“I’m not a wrongdoer,” said (Y/N) to Khonshu, holding up their hands. “I’m, uh, an Avatar.”

At that, Khonshu and man stopped.

“You can see him?” said the man, frowning warily.

“I’m the Avatar of Ma’at,” said (Y/N). They shifted. They weren’t used to saying that. “She’s the goddess of truth.” They could see the “truth” of the world more than others, and that included the gods that walked among them.

“That ostrich is interfering with my work,” said Khonshu, irritated.

“You are the one who is not supposed to interfere with human business,” said Ma’at’s calm voice, and (Y/N) glanced at the office’s large window to find her sitting on the sill.

Khonshu’s avatar looked at the window but saw nothing. “Is another god here?”

(Y/N) nodded sharply. This was a little too much. They were used to working by themself.

“You are doing the exact same thing,” said Khonshu.

“I am returning artifacts to our people,” said Ma’at. “I am not interfering in human life more than that.” She glanced at Medrano’s body. “Unlike some.”

Khonshu tsked. “I am delivering justice.”

“A type, yes,” said Ma’at.

“Ma’at,” said (Y/N) quietly. “I’m going to take the tablet..”

“Go ahead, (Y/N),” said Ma’at. “Khonshu will not harm you. You have done no wrong.”

“They interfered with my work,” said Khonshu.

“Irritating is not wrongdoing,” said Ma’at.

(Y/N) decided to leave before the gods continued to argue. It made them uncomfortable. Then again, a lot of interaction did. (Y/N) hadn’t really gotten to slow down and make friends after 2018, so they’d grown used to their own company (or Ma’at’s). Everything else was business, and anything more was out of their realm of understanding.

(Y/N) opened their bag and slipped the wrapped tablet carefully from the table inside. They looked decidedly away from Medrano’s body, glanced at Khonshu’s avatar, and left the room.

If that’s what Avatars and gods outside of themself and Ma’at were like, (Y/N) didn’t want to meet them.

2025…

“(Y/N).”

The now-seventeen-year-old raised their eyes from the book they were reading. “Yes, Ma’at?”

“I have an important job for you.”

(Y/N) frowned. Ma’at never described anything as “important.” Necessary? Yes. Important? No. Everything was equally pertinent to upholding justice and order to Ma’at.

“I need you to retrieve a scarab.”

“Who stole it?” asked (Y/N).

“You are.”

(Y/N) looked at Ma’at in surprise. “What?” Ma’at disliked any injustice or unlawful actions.

“You are stealing the scarab of Ammit,” said Ma’at.

Ammit.

Ammit ruled the scales in the Judgement of the Dead. Ma’at was the Feather of Truth against which human hearts were weighed. One had abandoned true justice; one continued to defend it.

And (Y/N) was stuck in the middle with the burden to protect the truth of it all.

Taglist:

@jaytheaceenby

@severussimp

@dmitrytherat

@slytherinroyalty16

@grippleback-galaxy

@alexpangender

@thewittyfanficreader

@aew-kun-age-regression

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moiravim · 1 year

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Are you gonna make a part 2 for Moon Dad meets y/n? I would like to see Marc's first meet up.

Moon dad's part 2.

Summary: what it's like living with Steven and Marc as your father figure<3

It has been a month since you moved in with Steven. By now you had been introduced to Marc and had gotten an explanation on who Khonshu is. Marc had immediately grown a soft spot for you.

It was nice being around someone who accepted you and could relate to you.

They had treated you like you were their own child and you were forever thankful. Even Khonshu had a soft spot towards you. Although he often gave you bad and dangerous advice so Marc told you to ignore him.

They knew he wouldn't let anything happen to you, so they didn't mind if you spent time with Khonshu as long as you weren't doing anything dangerous.

You finish the chapter of the book Steven had given you before placing in the bookmark and standing up.

You walked into the kitchen where Steven was preparing breakfast and asked; "do you need any help?". He smiled at you before shaking his head no and responding; "I'm almost done, love. How about you go sit at the table?"

You nod and he smiles lovingly at you. You go to the table and sit down in your favorite spot. It was facing the window so you could look out as you eat.

Khonshu appears and you casually look up at him. The first few times it was scary, but by now you enjoyed his presence.

"What are you doing?" He questions you as you stare out the window. You roll your eyes at his nosiness and respond; "I'm just watching people. Dad's almost done making breakfast..."

"Dad?" He asks. You cringe at the realization and try to play it off. "Dad? I said Steven..." Khonshu lets out a sound that almost sounds like a laugh before disappearing again.

Steven walks up with a plate of breakfast prepared for you. You smile as you grab your fork and taste the food.

He laughs as he looks at your exited face. You loved when Steven and Marc spent time with you and it made them feel bad for you.

It broke Marc's heart to see how happy little things meant to you. It made him overthink a lot about your childhood and made him hate your parents even more.

Steven sat in the seat across from you and started eating his own food. When you finished eating Steven said you could go to your room or watch TV but you responded that you'd rather stay there.

When he finished eating he told you that; "I have something planned. I was hoping that the we could go to the book store today. I just finished my book and it looks like your almost done with yours".

Your face becomes happier and you nod. He leaves the table to go get everything he needs and then goes to put his shoes on.

You quickly tie your shoes before standing up and walking to the door. "Hurry up!" You complain as Steven lets out a small laugh. He finishes putting on his shoes and opens the front door.

He holds your hand as the two of you walk around the large town. When you arrive at the library, Steven lets you look around while he picks out a book for himself.

By the end of the day you and Steven are both satisfied and spend the afternoon reading together. Marc fronts and the two of you lay down on the couch and watch television together until you fell asleep.

Marc carries you back to your bed and tucks you in before leaving a kiss on your forehead. He grabs your favorite stuffed animal which had fallen onto the floor and lays it down next to you.

He leaves the room and quietly closes the door before going to help Khonshu as moon knight.

A/N: should I do a part 3 where YN meets Jake? And maybe YN gets adopted? If you all have any other ideas, lmk 🥰🥰🫶

#marvel x reader #marvel #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #moon knight daughter #moon knight fanfic #moon knight x teen!reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #marvel x gender neutral reader #marvel x yn #marvel x platonic reader #marvel x teen!reader

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80pairsofcrocs · 2 years

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baby scarab || 1

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

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

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

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

i will be using she/her pronouns

~~~

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

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

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

~~~

some would say its freaky,

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

you would say its a bit of both

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

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

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

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

it also causes you to get suspended a lot.

such as now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"uh- well, I-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"what?" you are completely clueless.

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

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

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

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

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

"let me out steven"

"no"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"shes not an 'it', khonshu."

"can it, worm"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

either way, thanks for reading.

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oddballwriter · 8 months

Note

Moon boys and a Ghost reader

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Warnings: Reader is a ghost so of course they're dead. I made it that they died via falling off a high place on accident.

Author’s Snip: This was kinda fun to think about

Notes: I just ran wild with this. Also this id more so of a platonic relationship than anything

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Getting a ghost companion is the last thing the boys expected to have

They freaked the fuck out when you first met because they thought someone broke in and you showed up out of nowhere

You used to be a former Moon Knight but died while still on the job. It's a long story, you and Khonshu did something dumb that pissed the other gods off and they took your abilities for a bit as punishment and a slap on the wrist. But you were too used to your powers and ended up dying while doing a mission

They felt bad and so they kind of just had you continue on as a ghost that just follows around the future Moon Knights to come or at least be able to cross over

Is it a bit shammy, yeah, but you weren't complaining

Steven Grant

Steven asks the most questions about how the whole ghost thing works and what that's like

That's actually how they found out that you can show up in mirrors too, but of course it's YOU and not one of them

It's a bit surprising though, they're so used to it just being them so when one of them sees you they get spooked a little

"Have you always been here and just watched us?" "Yeah. I didn't really want to intervene with what was happening with you guys. I thought having an actual ghost around would mess up what Marc set up. Also he's got issues so I didn't want him thinking that he was actually crazy."

He dances around the "How'd you die?" question but you were in good spirits about it. You said "I completely ate it from eight stories up. I thought I could make the jump."

He's also how the boys know how your levels of appearance works, from moving shit, to mirrors, and actually being seen and heard

Marc Spector

He sort of sees you as an unofficial member of their little group even if you're just a ghost that's sort of stuck following them around

You refer to him as being "double dead" and make to many spector jokes

You get a pass though... because he can't punch you in the throat since it just goes through

I kind of imagine it being like Sock and Jonathan from the short film Welcome to Hell, where you follow him around and sorta bug him

At least you don't back seat everything and tell him what he should be doing... even though he does that with Steven a lot

Jake Lockley

Jake admires your fly on the wall abilities since he tends to do that too

You guys get along pretty well when he's out

He actually will take your advice since "They've been a Moon Knight before and they've at least seen some others before us so they know what not to do."

I actually don't really know what he'd think of a ghost companion other than thinking it's neat

#moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #moon knight #moonknight #platonic x reader #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley

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moonywritings · 1 year

Text

Help from your friends.

Moonknight x Teen reader PLATONIC.

Genre : Oneshot.

Pairing : Steven Grant x teen reader, Marc Spector x teen reader, Jake Lockley x teen reader.

Summary : Your friends help you build a shelf.

Sitting on the ground, legs crossed, you cast an annoyed glance at the plans spread out in front of you. No matter how hard you read and reread them, examine the many diagrams in detail and even look on the internet, you still hadn't managed to assemble this damn shelf, even after a good hour of assembling and disassembling the many parts.

You groaned for what felt like the hundredth time today and threw up your arms in exasperation. Handiwork was obviously not for you.

You liked to read more than anything and you had decided to buy one of those pretty book shelves from IKEA to store your many books. You were tired of leaving them lying around in piles bigger than you. At night, you'd trip over them sometimes and then have to pick them up and pile them up again as you rubbed your sore toes.

You lay on your back, crushing your tools and some building plans, and rubbed your eyes. You almost didn't hear the knock on your apartment door. You indicated that the door was unlocked in a loud, weary voice. The door creaked open, then slammed shut, and you heard familiar footsteps crossing your hallway.

"Hiya love !"

You straighten up hastily, a big smile on your face.

"Hello Steven !"

He smiled back at you with the same energy then turned to the window and you knew he was listening to his two alters.

"Marc and Jake say hello too."

"Hi guys !" You waved awkwardly, not sure if they could see you.

Steven held grocery bags in his hands filled with what appeared to be sweets, sodas and chips. He often brought you snacks and books when he visited you, and you smile thinking that he spoils you a lot. He put them on the couch and walked over to you as you rose to greet him. He hugged you tightly, then released you, his gaze lingering on the mess that littered the floor of your living room.

"What happened here ?"

You fidgeted a little, embarrassed.

"I was trying to assemble a bookshelf, but it turned out to be more difficult than expected,” you confessed.

"Why didn't you call us ? We could have helped."

Without waiting for your answer, he frantically reached into his shirt pockets and pulled out his pair of rectangular reading glasses. You smile as you watch him put them on his nose and sit on the floor, in the same spot where you were a moment ago.

He began rummaging through the many plans and brought a few to his face to examine. You tried in vain to restrict your laughter to his old man's attitude. A chuckle escaped your lips and you couldn't stop it. Steven looked up from the papers he was holding and gave you a questioning look.

"What is it ? What's funny ?"

"You," you replied with a mocking look.

"Me ?" He says pointing his index finger to his chest. "Why ?"

"You look like a grandma."

You burst out laughing at his shocked look. He rolled his eyes playfully and returned his attention to his work.

~~~~~~

Half an hour had passed. Steven now had the same desperate look you had earlier. His curly hair stood on end from every time he'd run his hand through it.

You sighed in annoyance and stood up, your leg bones cracking after all the time you'd been sitting on the floor.

"Ummm... You want tea ? I'll make tea."

You stomped towards the kitchen without waiting for his response.

"Hey, Steven. Give me the body, you're messing it up !"

"I'm definitely not going to give you the body !" Steven exclaimed. "I know you'll end up getting upset and throwing everything away. They don't need that," he added, watching you bustle behind the counter, a kettle full of water in your hand.

"What ? I would never do that!"

"Stevie is right, amigo. You can't keep your cool," Jake sneered, joining the conversation between the british and the american.

You heard the man arguing with his reflection for a few more minutes, laughing. Eventually you saw the body straighten up and lose its shy and friendly look to be replaced with a tense body and a deep frown. You knew it was Marc who were fronting now. You watched him shake the blueprints and tools and mutter annoyedly for a few more minutes before the whistle of the kettle startles you.

~~~~~~

"That doesn't make any sense ! And why is it so hard it's just a damn bookshelf !"

"I told you, hermano."

"Oh shut up Jake !"

"You're never gonna make it if you keep arguing like this !" said Steven wearily. "Now shut up and focus on that bloody shelf before they come back."

Marc stared at the shelf he had partially built. He took a sip of the tea you had brought him and concentrated on his work while you picked up your books scattered all over the apartment, ready to put them in their new location.

"C'mon hermano, give me the body. I can do it faster than you."

Five minutes later, the large white shelf stood against the wall with a proud Jake leaning on it.

"How in the hell did you do that ?!" Marc spat in an annoyed tone.

"I always said I was the smartest of us," Jake replied smugly with a smirk. The american answered him with an irritating growl.

"Well done Jake !" exclaimed Steven.

"Jake, you did it !"

He turned to you, who had just come out of your room, a stack of books in your arms, and a wide grin. You put them on the floor and examined the shelf with an admiring look.

"Yeah, it was nothing, don't wor..."

He was interrupted by your arms hugging him tightly. Surprised, he did not immediately return your hug.

"Thanks guys. What would I do without you, hm ?"

"You probably would never assemble this damn shelf," he sneered, his arms around you.

You giggled in his neck and released him. You could sense it was Marc now.

"Do you want to do a movie night ?" You asked hopefully. You were always very happy to spend time with them and you also wanted to thank them for helping you.

"Of course kiddo. Why do you think we bought snacks ?" he said, pointing to the bags Steven had put on your couch earlier.

You grinned and thanked him.

"So, what do you want to watch ?"

"Harry Potter."

"AGAIN ?!"

"Yes, again. Now sit down and shut up. I'll go get the snacks Steven bought."

He sat down on the couch, grumbling, and turned on the TV. He complained a lot but you knew he loved doing movie nights no matter what movie you chose. You also knew he secretly enjoyed watching Harry Potter. As long as it was with you, he would be happy, they would all be happy.

��🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

I wanted to try and write a oneshot for once, I hope you liked it ;) Sorry for my English 😅

Moony🌛

#moon knight #marvel #moonknight series #platonic #steven grant #steven with a v #steven grant x teen!reader #steven grant x you #marc spector #marc spector x teen!reader #marc spector x you #jake lockley #jake lockley x teen!reader #jake lockley x you #gender neutral reader #moonknight x teen!reader #reader insert #platonic reader #teen reader

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sofiaaaaaaaa03 · 11 months

Text

Homecoming

Title: Homecoming

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

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

Rating: PG

Word Count: 6k

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

A/N: .... HI.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He couldn’t wait.

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

—----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-----

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

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

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

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

“y/n?”

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

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

“Hey, Steven.” They greeted him warmly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, you’re one of those people.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look, Marc-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could they even do it?

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

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

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

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

-----------

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moonlightguidesky · 3 months

Text

Heyyy!!!! New chapter released (wrote like weeks ago, please just go with it.).

Anyways, as always let me know what I can improve on. Repost if you can, as always have a good day, afternoon or night.

WARNING: METION OF BLOOD, ALCOHOL, ABUSE, DRUGS, CURSING, and GUN Violence

You have been warned about the contents of this chapter.

Chapter 2: The kid Problem

Marc wakes up gasping for air, his chest rising up and down heavily as he panted.

He sat up quickly before he looked around his apartment, the apartment itself barely looked homely.

A couple books and maps he had traded with ration cards. The only real color in the damn place was the couch which was blue.

He sighs as his heart calms down now, another nightmare.

"Always the damn same one."

He grumbles under his breathe as he gets up and walks to his small kitchen before he feels a hard tug on his ankle and the next thing he knows he is flat on the ground as his cheek burned.

"Steven! Again, seriously!?"

Marc exclaimed as he pushed himself off the floor, a scowl making its way onto his face.

"Mate, you had it coming. You broke your promise, you know I hate it when you do that."

Steven surfaced as Marc looked at the dirty mirror they owned with his eyebrows furrowed.

Steven had his arms crossed against his chest with one lifted eyebrow clearly not sorry about what he did.

"Look, it wasn't that I didn't want you to front. Just, he needed me Steven."

Marc tried not to get angry, he knew he screwed up, he always does.

He looked at the cuffs that were on his ankle and already went to look for the keys. He lifted the floor board and there was the silver key to his freedom.

He uses the key and gets his ankle out of the cuffs before he got up again and rubbed his head.

The smell of liquor still hanging in the back of his throat. He overdid it again, he always does when it gets bad again.

"So, was the whiskey worth it?"

Steven said almost scolding knowing that this was hurting not only him but Marc's body.

"Can we not talk about it, I already have a headache."

Marc sighed as he felt like shit right now and didn't need a reminder of how shit it was to be like this.

"I wonder why."

Steven mumbled as his head lowered and he shook his head as he left the mirror into another space, Marc's jaw harden as he tried his hardest to not punch the mirror with his fist.

He tells himself that he doesn't want to have to replace the mirror again, also he didn't want to be alone.

Steven and his relationship was damaged after everything that happened in the last 15 years.

Fight after fight yet by the end of the day they had each other and that's all they really had.

Wendy and dad weren't in the picture anymore. The smacks and vemoned words that came out of the women they called their mother left her mouth he knew she would never be the same.

Steven,eventually, after lots of convincing had finally gave into to the fact that they had no mother anymore. Their dad was not any better honestly, he tried to keep the beating to a minimum but it could only hold on for so long.

So when they turned 18, they went to join FEDRA and stayed employed for a while before he got into a nasty fight and was terminated from the job.

It's been 14 years since they last saw the people they once called parents. Every once in a while though he would just follow them, more his dad to make sure no one tried to hurt them.

Eventually Layla came into their life for a while and things were to some type of normalcy, domestic even, of course they had to skrew that up too.

Both went their separate ways after a nasty argument and haven't seen each other in a year. Both men still worried about her, they know she is capable of taking care of herself, it's one of the reasons they fell for her.

Still, that didn't mean their wasn't any worry that she could have gotten killed of murdered after they separated. She had left England to go to Egypt.

Her strength was something they admired, how reliable she was, how she always had their backs. But more than anything it was her heart, how even after everything she has been through she was able to still love them for wow they were and how they were.

Sometimes they wished they could have worked it out better.

"Ey, hermano, door."

A voice called out and there was Jake, they had figured out Jake a couple years into their time in FEDRA, he took over when an invasion of infected managed to escape. He kept them alive and they were thankful for that.

"Shit, who?"

Marc whispered as his head pounded again at the noise of his door being knocked on.

"Marc Spector! "

A voice boomed, a familiar sense of dread filled the apartment. It was Khonshu, fuck.

"I'm coming! I'm coming."

He shouted as he walked over to the door, he really didn't want to but didn't exactly have much choice since he knew the damn man wouldn't stop the banging.

He took a deep breathe before opening the door and in came Khonshu, the man had platinum white hair and his eyes were empty with almost not shine to them like he had no eyes.

His clothes match his personality honestly, he was wearing some black jeans with a white button up that had grim and some pink splatters which he knows where it came from.

His jacket has a patch of a moon on it.

"Where were you yesterday night, we had somewhere to be!?"

The man shouted as Marc closed the door and locked it, he knew what was coming, all of them did.

"Look, I just got sidetracked, okay? Something came up and something was going on with Ste-"

He didn't even get to finish before the sound of Khonshu's cane hit the floor of the apartment was shaking slightly.

"You swore he wouldn't be a problem, that he would cooperate with this. Maybe you should have had Lockly front more often, that is a man who can get the jobs done quickly."

Khonshu retorted as he looked out the window and turned to Marc before motioning for him to come closer.

Marc looked at him before he walked over to thw window and seeing people, just people.

"You see these people, they rely on us to keep them safe. You are in debt to me Marc Spector, I saved your life and therefore you must now save theirs for me."

Khonshu said with no hesitation, sure Khonshu could be an asshole but he was okay every once in a while like this.

Sure he had imprisoned Marc and the alters in his escapades of "saving" people but he really did want to just help, he was just really shitty at doing it.

"Fine, fine. I promise it won't be a problem again."

Marc finally replied as he sighed and Khonshu only hummed as he made his way to exit the apartment building.

"Let us see Marc Spector, tick tok. Make sure not to skip this times patrol, I will see you then."

Khonshu finally said before he closed the door behind him. Marc sighed, he really hated the guy sometimes.

"He's an asshole."

Steven remarks, Marc holds back a smirk.

"One thing we can actually agree on."

Marc shakes his head as he goes and starts to get ready for the day of labor he's gonna have to do.

"El tiene razón."

Jake voice echoed in the back of their head. At least this is something they could all agree on.

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

Jake shoveled the ashes from the firey pit that raged on, buring their skin but not enough actually do damage.

"Ey, Marc. Got a minute."

A man called out, Jake's eyes went to the back of his head as Marc fronted. Marc blinked as their eyes focused again and turned around to face the man that called for him.

"Yeah, what's up?"

Marc answered as he pulled down the bandana that covered their nose and mouth from all the ashes that were made from the burned body of infected and Ammits followers.

"I have a job you might be interested in."

The man whispered as he slipped a paper into Marc's hand.

Marc sighed as he pocketed the note into his jeans.

"I told you I don't do that type of work anymore."

He whispered back as he bent down to "tie his shoes" and the man looked down and did the same action.

"It's good pay man, lots of ration cards and maybe even a bit more."

The man said as he tried to convince Marc to do the job, he and this man didn't really know each other very well but the guy did owe him something for saving his life.

"Look man, I told you I can't take the job. No matter how good the pay is."

Marc remarked as he got back up from "tieing his shoes" so that he could back to work.

"Just, just think about it. Alright."

The man muttered before he went to the other side where another hall of bodies came in trucks to be burned.

He sighs as he grabbed the shovel again and starts to dig the ashes and putting them into barrels.

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

Drip

Her brown eyes watched as the water leaked from the floor above and dropped in the wet puddle that formed.

"Nomas querría ir a dormir, es mucho para pedir."

Katalina groaned as she looked at the chains they put on her, her ankles and wrist were starting to bruise red from the amount of times she tried to slide them off.

She slouched on the wooden walls as the rumble and sound of FEDRA trucks were coming and going.

The places wasn't the best, but honestly better than the hole or cells they put the orphans if they couldn't follow the rules drilled into their brains.

Creak

The sound of the door opening got her attention as she scooted back into a corner and got up from where she was sitting.

Two people walked in, one male, one female. The female had a sort of limp on her left foot, her eyes seemed lively yet so dull.

The man had a scar across his face, a mustache and a beard to compliment it as well, his eyes seemed more glossy along with slight puffiness to them.

"We are here to test you again."

The women's started as she has a clipboard.

"How many more time do I have to do this?"

Katalina asked as her eyebrows furrowed with both frustration and impatience. She has been here for 3 weeks now in this room and it was starting to get to her.

"Just until we know."

The man came forward slightly which made the girl take a small step back, the two adults noticed and took a step forward.

"Why do you always have to get closer?"

The girl asked not really as a question but more as a confused threat of some way.

"testing something."

The women said and she clicked the pen and started to take notes on the piece of paper stuck to the clipboard.

"No soy tu maldito guinea cerdo."

She grumbles under her breath as she picks at her nails, she's been doing that alot. Honestly she has nothing better to do right now and it went on like that for the weeks she's been here.

"What was that?"

The man spoke up which startled the girl for a second before she looked at the guy and responded.

"Nothing."

The guy sighed as he rubbed circles at his temples.

"Alright, let start. One hand steady and coun-"

The lady started before she was intrupted.

"Count from 1 to 10, I know. We've done this hundreds of times already."

Katalina says as she puts her arm out and starts to count, she finishes quickly.

"Alright then, now speak sp-"

"Spanish, I get it. Don't need to keep repeating it."

Katalina remarked .

"Me nombre is Lisa, tengo trece años."

She replied as her boredom and tiredness was kicking in.

"Alright, that's it."

The man said as he put down something from behind his pocket, it was good for the evening. A can of peaches and water.

"Great, a feast for a queen."

Her sarcastic remark gets her a look before she put her hands up as of saying "I'll back off.".

They look at each other before a knock takes their attention away, with a small "Come in." was heard and suddenly a man with cane came in.

He was dress with red button up shirt and brown pants to help contrast the tan color jacket he had on.

His cane made small noise as it the ground softly he came into the room, his hair was pretty long and almost looked slight disheveled.

"How is she doing?"

The man said as the others hand him the clipboard and he starts to read it before he nods and they nod back before leaning in and whispering something she couldn't make out.

The other two left the room and it was only Katalina and this man who looked over the clipboard again before looking back at her.

"How are you doing then, Katalina?"

Her heart skipped for a second, how the hell did he know her name?!

Never once has she given out her actual name.

"Como sabías es-"

The man chuckled lightly before he sat down across from her.

"I know a lot of things child, many, many things that many wished they could possess."

The man said as he reached behind his back was pulling something out of his back.

Katalina senses went off and she closed her hand into a fist, her nails dug into the palm of her hand, her knuckles white.

Then man noticed this.

"It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you, just wanna return something that I believe is yours."

The man said as he pulled out a picture, a locket, and a small switchblade.

Katalina eyes widen at the sight of her most precious objects, the only picture of her family that was given to her, a locket that her first love bestfriend gave to her, and the only weapon her parents left her with.

The man gaze was on her reaction, he got what he wanted.

"Do you want them back?"

The man had said softly as he looked deep into her brown eyes that were slightly softer, more emotional.

Vulnerable.

"Y-yes, yes I want them back."

She stuttered for a second but quickly regained herself.

"You can have them."

He simply said, she was hesitant and skeptical on his words that lingered in her ears.

Have them?

She can just, take them?

No consequences, not "but" or "if"?

Nothing?

"Go on, take it."

The man encouraged as he gently laid them on the ground in front of her, easy for her grab.

Her breathe hitched, she reached out for a second before looking back at him, nothing, she couldn't read him.

"I don’t bite, I swear."

He adds as his gaze lingered on her.

She is quick to grab the things before he second guess to grab her things and held them close to her chest, to her heart as it thumped hard for the return of something that truly only belonged to her.

She puts the necklace back on and the locket is tucked into her shirt, the picture is in her clutch and the switchblade was in her back pocket of her navy jeans.

"Who are you?"

She asked as she looked at the man, really looked at him, he had slight eye bags, his posture was almost straight but also crouched, the cane had a wooden carving of a crocodile on its handle.

The man smiles.

"My name is Arthur Harrow, I am the right had man of the organization that's gonna save and clean the world."

Arthur answers as he puts his hand out to shake hers.

She can't really understand why she a little scared of him, he hasn't done anything really since talking to her so why does she have a sense of dread in her stomach.

She slowly leans in and shakes his hand, the sleeves that covered his arm was slightly lifted and the tattoo of scales is there or from what she can make out.

"Your timsaeh people?"

She stated as she takes back her hand.

"I am indeed."

He answered back as he lifted the sleeve up to show the scale in full. He seemed proud to be called that almost.

"I am sure you have multiple questions."

He says as he scoots a little closer and puts a hand on her shoulder.

"I will try my best to give you answers to any question you give me."

They looked at each other in the eye for a long time before she is the first to look away down at the ground, she thinks.

And thinks before nodding and looking back at him.

"Okay."

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

Jake huffed as the sound of the alarm went off to tell everybody that working hours were over.

He pulled the bandana off and walked over where the rest of the workers were heading to get their pay for the day.

"Next!"

The holder said as Jake was next and waited for the guy to give his ration cards of the day.

The holder grabbed a 20, two 5, and four 1's.

"Here's your pay."

The Holder said as Jake took them and counted them, less than usual.

"Any better paying jobs tomorrow?"

Jake asked as he put the ration cards in his small wallet that they had managed to find in the garbage one day, and in good condition too.

"Probably the one with the shit, if your up for it?"

The man said looking up at him for a response.

"Really, shit. No way we are doing that job, that would take weeks go get rid of the smell! We barely even get rid of the smell of burned ashes off our clothes."

Steven said in the back of the mind, Steven was willing to work hard, they all know it, but even then there was a line he crosses and it was this.

"Any other trabajo?"

Jake sighed as he put one hand on his hip.

"Well, there is one with electricity, dangerous but pays better than this."

The Holder says as he looked up at Jake who is deciding, it's better pay but it would put them in danger.

"I'll go with the shit."

Jake says and the Holder nods before ripping a slip off and handing it to him.

"Take that tomorrow to sector 5 and they will give you a position to work at."

The Holder yelled for the next person and Jake left, he knew Steven would probably complain and maybe even Marc but it would pay better and less dangerous.

"Why did you take the job!"

Steven exclaimed as his image slid on and off the mirrors and window that he passed.

"Because the amount we are making isn't enough hermano, nosotros necesitamos otro trabajo que pagarán bien."

Jake says as he looks at pair of gloves that caught his attention.

They have enough to make trades and for smuggling still, so he buys it the gloves for 2 ration cards. He thanks the seller and put the new gloves on putting his old ones in his pocket.

"Did you just spend 2 ration cards on another pair of gloves, I swear you ware those our way too fast man."

Steven comments.

"You have your books, I have my glove, Déjame en paz Steven."

Jake says as he walks into the allyway and makes his way to the place where smugglers thrive on the ones willing to pay the right price.

Jake finally leaned against his usual spot where people can find him usually, he waits and not a second later as a FEDRA soilder comes over looking almost new at this whole thing.

"Your the guy with the goods, right?"

The man asked in a hushed tone, Jake could see this guy was new to this, he wanted to mess with him but was too tried right now.

"Yeah, I am. What are you looking for?"

He ask as the guy slips him a piece a paper.

What was it with people slipping paper to them?

Jake took the paper and opened it, the guy fidget with his vest before looking around.

"So you got it or no man?"

The guy was getting inpatient now.

"Sí, le tengo."

Jake answered putting the paper in his back pocket.

"Does it look like I know Spanish man!"

The guy was getting on his nerves but he tried to calm himself down. There doesn't need to be drama right now.

He pulls out a baggy from the pocket of his jacket and out came the blue pills.

The man sighed in relief about to grab the bag before Jake moved it away.

"Gotta pay Hombre, can't give you it until you pay."

The guy eventually scoffed before digging into his pants pocket and pulls put a wad of ration cards.

"How much?"

Jake saw the ration cards, enough to maybe get them through a couple months.

"Three 20's, six 5, and eight 1's."

He said as he put his hand out, the man just nodded before handing him the pills and Jake takes the ration cards.

"I'm gonna need the bag back though."

He added as he counted to make sure it was the right amount, it was. The man may have been new but he has what they need to keep them afloat and some what comfortable still.

The man dumps the pills into his vest pocket and gives the plastic bag back, Jake nods in a silent thank you before the man comes close.

Jake get ready the beat the absolute shit out this man before words were said.

"Don't come out for a couple nights, FEDRA soilders aren't right in the head right now. Might make a mistake, easy to make one in the dark."

The man whispered before walking away, Jake looked as the man walked away. He unclentch his jaw and fixed the shirt.

"Maldita sea."

He grumbled under his breathe as walks away, it's almost time to get to patrol they need to get moving before Khonshu yells at them again.

‐------------------------------------------------------

"This is Cameron, Cameron this is Lisa."

Harrow says as he introduced Katalina to another one of "helpers" of the place.

They have walked around for a whole now, she kepted rubbing her wrist as she nodded in acknowledgement, she needed an out.

She can't stay here, FEDRA will kill her if they find out she left. Maybe they would hung her, beat the ever living shit out of her even just to get the anger out.

"And here is the cafeteria where we keep the helpers fed, are you hungry?"

He asked as he got a plate and handed it to her, she slowly reached out for it and took it as she got into the line and he got behind her as his hands were on her shoulders.

"Give this young lady our best please Beth."

The man said to the younger looking lady who just smiled and nodded before grabbing a big metal spoon and scooped up a chunk of soup.

"Thank you."

Katalina whispered as she looked at the soup, looked like tomato soup, haven't seen that one in a while.

He gave a small nod in thanks before pushing her slightly to start moving which she did, slowly her tray filled up with 2 biscuits and an apple.

How the hell they had fresh fruit and biscuits was a damn mystery to her.

Soon they sat down at a small table near some statue, it was a statue of a crocodile that held a scale in one hand.

She looked at it before she looked down at her food, this was the most food they have given her in the 3 weeks she's been here.

"You can eat, no one is gonna take it away from you."

Arthur said as he pushed the tray closer to her, she was skeptical about it though, everyone is hungry. She could see that people were staring at her and him.

He notices and looks at the people who look away immediately and go back to their conversations.

"They just haven't seen you before, no need to worry."

He said as he nudged his head a little to signal to look at the bowl of soup and not the people looking at her, their eyes burned into the back of her head to her body.

She picks up the spoon and holds it close to her mouth before looking at everybody else, they were eating fine so she takes a bite.

The soup was rich and flavored to the right amount or as much as soup can be flavored. She hasn't had anything this nice in, well, never?

"Gracias."

She says as she eats more going for more of the soup, they sit in almost comfortable silence.

She feels a little bad for being skeptical about the guy, he hasn't done anything to her yet, maybe.

"Aren't you hungry?"

She ask him as she shallows the warm soup down and wipes her mouth with her hand.

He hands her a napkin before he responding.

"I am alright, thank you for worrying about me."

She grabs the napkin and wipes her mouth with it, she nods before thinking. She has one more biscuit to spare, she already full anyways.

Grabbing the biscuit gently and held it out for him to grab.

"Here, you can have this. Estoy llena."

She reassured as she pushed the biscuits towards him for him to grab.

He took it from her hands and smiled softly, it was nice.

"Thank you."

He said as started to eat the biscuit and she looked around for anything or anywhere there was a weak spot here.

She couldn't stay here, she has to go back.

30 min later...

They were walking up a hallway, they had made their way back to where she was kept, she kinda was glad as messed up as it was.

She was use to, this. Even if she hated the damn leaks it was something she was familiar with.

"I will come by later to come check on you, alright."

Harrow said as he opened the door and Katalina looked at him for a second before nodding and went inside the room.

"Buenos noches Katalina."

Was all he said before closed the door behind her not even noticing the way she turned around, a chill went down her spine.

That usually was a nice thing to say, even a more enduring thing to say. The way he said it though didn't feel good, didn't have the warm essence to it.

She didn't even know how the hell the man managed to make those words sound like soul less lies.

She sat down on the floor and looked out the window that showed the evening sky, the colors of orange and yellow coming together to make a warm essence over this dull gray world she was brought into.

She laid on the wall and pulled herself up against it a little so that her back hit the wall.

Taking off her sweater and using it as a pillow, she wasn't given much of a living space to really get rest but the corners were comfortable.

1 hour later...

BOOM

The room shook as Katalina was woken up by the sounds of gunshots and screams of people.

The sound of a thousand of footsteps were everywhere that she could almost feel them. They made her stomach turn.

Maybe 5 minutes later it was silent, completely and utterly silent.

She feels for her switchblade and gets ready to fight if she has to, she knows she probably will have to.

Slowly walk towards the floor as it slightly creaks with every contact the shoes and the floor has. She leans in and can hear footsteps, two to four people are still here.

She hears one is getting close, she'll just stab them and then get out of here.

Once whoever was on the other side was close enough she opened the door and gets ready to stab whoever was on the other side.

However she unsucessed at it and got thrown to the wall, her back stung now. She needed to get up before whoever she tried to stab now tried to return the favor back.

She looks up to see a man, his hair was curly and short and his eyes were like hers, or whatever she remembers since the last time she looked in a mirror.

The brown eyes started back at her confused before looking down and seeing the switchblade, she saw it too and tried to grab it but he got to it first and kicked it away.

"Asshole."

She grumbles as she pulls herself up and looks at the guy who eyebrows were furrowed and he had a gun.

He has a gun, she now noticed the blood on his fist, the beaded sweat that was falling from his forehead.

His attire wasn't something she had seen before but has heard, a man with white attire would come during the night and "protect" the different divisions of the QZ.

They called him Moonknight due to the fact most his weapons were the shape of moons.

Maybe calling the guy who looks like he went through hell an asshole wasn't her best idea.

The man still has the gun pointed at her and she just stares at it, the hole in the middle pointed to her chest.

If he did shoot her at least it wouldn't be too painful and end quickly. She puts her hand up in surrender.

They just stare at each other, brown on brown. Both had slight eyebags to compliment each other.

"Who are you?"

The man said as the sound of footsteps were heard, both heads turned to the direction.

"Marc Spector."

They both recongnised the voice, Harrow.

Another sign of footsteps appeared and a man in almost just white and back came in with a gun.

"The 4 and 5th floor have been cleared out, Spector we must leave. FEDRA might be here soon!"

The man said as he turned around to see the scene of Marc with a gun pointed to a teenage girl who seems confused and her hands up above her head.

Then there was Arthur with one of his men.

"Arthur Harrow."

"Khonshu, Marc."

The whole thing was awkward, everything about this was confusing, they had history but Katalina wasn't sure how.

"Me, now what in the fucking hell is going on?!"

She exclaimed as she put her hands down in exhaustion and honestly tired of people in a whole.

"I strongly urge you to point the gun away from the child, Marc."

Harrow said as he stepped closer which in turn got two guns pointed towards him instead.

He slowly put his hands.

" Keep that gun at me, not her."

He says as he looked at her and she looked at him with clear annoyance in her eyes.

Marc looks at her one more times before looking at Khonshu.

"So this is who that maggot went to trade our supplies for! The Che Guevara of Cairo."

Khonshu retorted as he stepped forward, now next to Katalina and Marc who watched the interaction.

"How I haven't misses that voice. Let just say that he didn't like the response he got from us when we saw what he brought to us."

Harrow says as he winced and put a hand to his side, Katalina finally could see that small drops of blood that had fallen from him.

"Oh, shit."

Her voice softer and eyes filled with concern as she took in the injured man, her eyebrow furrowed as she was about to get up.

Harrow looked at what she was about to do and shook his head which made her falter.

"On another note though."

She speaks up on which attention is all on her again.

"I agree with the old man over here, FEDRA would have heard all that gun fire so maybe get this going or we are all going to die like this."

She states as she stands up and rubs her shoulder, it wouldn't really bruise but it would be sore for a while.

"Old!" Khonshu exclaimed.

"The child is right. We we're gonna have her out of here tonight."

Harrow says which caught her attention.

"You never said anything about moving me?!"

"Sorry kid, thought you'd run."

She sighs and rubbed circles on her forehead.

"What does this have to do with us?"

Marc asked as he ans Khonshu looked at the girl and then back at Harrow.

"We don't have a group to go and protect her like we had planned, so now I am think you both are gonna do it."

Harrow says as he gets a paper out, it's bloody but still legible.

"Wait a minute!?"

"I'm not gonna go with him!?"

Marc and Katalina shouted at the same time, their reluctants overlapping with each other.

"Listen, if you do this we can not only give you weapons, but also much more. We can show you if want but you have to take her away from here."

Harrow says as he stares at the three who just stand there in shock.

"We aren't babysitters parasites."

Khonshu said as he took a step closer now infront of Marc who is still standing there with a gun held up towards Harrow.

"Not asking you to do charity for me Khonshu, I need you guys to move cargo cause that is what she is to you."

Harrow said as he looked at the girl who eyebrows were furrowed.

"You show me the reward we get for this then I will give you a response. Marc, take the girl back to your apartment and keep her there until I return."

Khonshu said as he lifted his cane and hit it on the ground causing the ground to shake slightly.

Katalina flinched at the noise for a second and so did Marc.

"We are seriously considering this."

Marc whispered to Khonshu as he looked back at the girl who hasn't really moved since getting up.

"Do this before I make you."

Khonshu hissed back at him which made Marc falter.

"Go grab your bag."

Harrow said as the girl just looks at the three men.

"Su pinche madre."

She grumbles under her breathe making sure they still heard her as she goes back into the room she came out of.

They waited until she came out the room again. She comes out with a green jacket and her backpack, she looks at Harrow who just sighs.

"This is for your good kid, trust me. It's better you go with them than with me, for better or worse I am aware of what they are capable of and know they won't let anything happen to you."

Katalina stared at Harrow for a while then at the man next to him, she really has no choice in that matter anyways, it was all planned for her.

"What are they capable of?"

She ask as her eyes stay at him.

"Alot, many things someone your age shouldn't see."

Is all Harrow says to her.

Her gaze goes to the floor before she shakes her head along with a dry chuckle.

"Little too late for that."

She turns around and grabs her switchblade and walking towards the stairs walking over the dead bodies that laid there.

The blood now on her shoes as she see the bloody footsteps that were being left behind now.

Harrow sighs.

"Show me the weapons now."

Khonshu said as he stared at Harrow who nods before walking to another hallway.

"Follow me."

Is all he says before he dissappear.

"Make sure to not let that child out your sights you three, understand."

Khonshu orders as he walks away and follows Harrow.

The men sigh, it was a long night already.

The followed where the girl had went as their shoes were now painted in red sticky blood.

This is the end of chapter 2!!!!

This one took a little longer but I am happy with how is came out!

Anyways, see ya in the next one!!

-Sky 💜

#moonknight x teen!reader #steven grant #moon knight #jake lockley #marc spector #moonknight fic #fanfic #platonic!reader #moonknight x platonic reader #fanfiction #moon knight x teen!reader #moon knight x teen! OC

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transtrashgremlin · 2 years

Text

Steven/Marc taking care of a little reader.

summary: after a fun trip to the museum reader ends up slipping and Steven and Marc try their best to take care of them.

paring: platonic!cg!Steven Grant x little!reader x platonic!cg!Marc Spector

warnings: little bit of arguing between Steven and Marc.

(pls dont steal any of my works, all of these are my own unless stated otherwise.)

Steven and [name] got home after another fun trip to the museum, though [name] was feeling a bit tired. They loved going yo the museum with Steven, and Steven absolutely loved sharing his knowledge with them, it was so much fun for the both of them.

as soon as they got home [name] went straight to their room, coming back out holding their special stuffie and their paci, immediately plopping themself on the couch.

[name] had known Steven and Marc for quite a while now so they were well aware that [name] was an age regressor.

“Stevie…” They pouted, making grabby hands towards whi yhey thought was Steven at the moment.

“Sorry kiddo, it’s Marc now-“

“No. wan Stevie.”

“You heard them Marc.. now take me take control so I can take care of [name]-“

“Maybe it’s time that I help out! You’re always spending so much time with them and taking care of them while their in little space, I think I should take a turn too!”

At this point the two where switching back and forth to argue, however before they could really start yelling they heard sniffling. When the looked over at [name] to see them crying.

“Ohh no no no, it’s ok little one.. Stevie’s here…” He immediately took [name] in his arms, holding them tightly.

“I don wan Stevie an Marc to fight….” They hugged him back, still sniffling slightly.

“I know, I know, it makes you upset… but sometimes it’s difficult having two people in the same head ans both always wanting to be in control at the same time…”

“Like.. when I wan be little an start slipping even though I has to be big..?”

“Exactly…” He gave them a small smile, almost relieved that they understood.

“m… can we watch Disney now…?”

“Of course we can! And tomorrow we’re gonna do something that involves me and Marc..”

“Yay!!”

#steven grant #marc spector #steven grant xplatonic!reader #marc spector x platonic!reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moonknight x reader #x little reader #x reader #agere #sfw agere #marvel #marvel agere #comfort character #little space #x platonic!reader #platonic!reader

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1970sgothfreak · 5 months

Text

Wow me actually posting… so uhhh little life update

1: I GOT MY DREAM APPRENTICESHIP 🩵

2: I GOT MY DREAM MOTORBIKE

3: got into an accident 👍🏻

And uhh yea now I’m back so I need ideas because I’m fucking blank brain right now so uhh yea also holy shit when I made this page I was not expecting so much love? Like YALL BEEN FUCKING SUPPORTING ME WHILE I BEEN GONE LIKE JUST TAKE MY LOVE ALL OF YOU 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

#platonic #my ocs #batsis reader #oc x oc #character x oc #oc x reader #south park oc #moonknight x reader #avatar x reader #batfam x reader #give ideas #pls pls pls #moonknight x oc #avatar x oc #batsis angst #batfam x oc

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marvel-m-lee · 2 years

Note

Can you write where reader is tickling Steven Grant and he says Marc to take the body , and when he takes he tickle reader little brutally

Minecraft Revenge

Words: 2666

Fandom: Marvel (MoonKnight)

Summary: Y/n finds out Stevens ticklish, and Marc gets revenge...

Warnings: tickle fic, I tried to be as respectful for those who have D.I.D so if there's anything disrespectful please hmu and correct me.

A/N: DONEEEEEE fucking hell I love Steven so much 😭💀 OMG ITS FRIDAY YAY- SHIT I gotta get ready fir school Cya!

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

And here you were, chasing Steven down the corridors of the compound. It was hilarious for everyone else to watch as you ran after him, he screaming and squealing while you were just inching up to him in speed.

You and Steven had been playing playing game on your PlayStation 5, Minecraft to be exact. The two of you had made a survival world and were making bases, he had gone out and found himself a pyramid to build his base while you decided to make one on the sea close by.

"Do you have any glass or sand I can use?" You asked him, looking 9ver to his screen. (You decided to play on your PC and let him play on PlayStation)

"Huh? Uh, no I don't think so-" Steven replied, looking into his inventory. You were a little confused though as there was literally a stack in his hotbar-

"What about in your hotbar?"

"Oh shit- yeah-" Steven, though being smart, was also sometimes an idiot. The two of you met between bases and exchanged some materials before running back home.

The two of you played for a while until you got up to go grab some snacks. You both logged out, you could be gone a few seconds but with this place you never know. Once you left your game for 5 minutes before Thor somehow ended up breaking your controller. You didnt even know he'd come back-

You both walked down the corridors to the kitchen talking about random things in minecraft. The two of you were making a plan about finding some diamonds and going mining together, living in the desert was cool but mining- not so much.

"Yeah, I've got some iron so I can make us some armour and weapons and shit" you offered, walking into the kitchen.

"Oh sweet! Okay, I'll go and find some trees for wood and beds. I'll also write down our bases coordinates"

The two of you entered and walked over to the cupboards, still chatting away.

You grabbed some water and coke while he grabbed some fruit from the fridge along with some other crap from the cupboards like chocolate and biscuits. The two of you continued to talk and joking around, when you got back to your bedroom Steven jumped on the bed and put the food on the bed, you put the drinks on the desk.

Everything was normal for about a minute, laughing and joking around. That's when you went to go grab a grape, but instead accidently poked Steven in the side causing him to yelp and jump off the bed.

For a moment the two of you looked at each other, blinking a little. You kept eye contact while this time actually grabbing a grape and popping it into your mouth.

"Steven..."

"What? Yeah? No- nothing- We should play minecraft-" He laughed nervously, thiugh he was hugging his sides subconsciously, even with a little blush on his face.

You couldn't help but smirk at him, "I never knew that..."

"Knew what? There ain't nothing to know- wehe are- i- let's play minecraft"

You decided to play a new game with him though as he could no longer keep eye contact, shuffling around nervously.

"Steven I thought we were close!"

"What?- what no, yeah we are close! You're like not even a meter away from me!-" with that he decided to take a step backwards, probably to get out of arms reach.

"See, now we're a meter apart, this is a good distance"

"Really?" You smirked. Steven smiled nervously.

"Yeah-"

You took a step firward, watching as his blush grew and step backwards again.

"Steven why do you keep moving away! I just want a hug!" You whined, obviously lying and putting out your arms, giving out grabby hands to him, only making him hug himself a little tighter.

"N-noho- no I think- this is good. See, hugging ourselves!"

You stepped forward again, him stepping back.

"Steven~" you taunted. Everything in Steven's body to him to run, especially the mirror which had Marc, smirking at him teasing him with wiggling fingers telling him to run.

"Shut up Marc! Y/n-" He couldn't help the wobbly smile on his face as he tried to protest but in a split second you'd jumped onto his sides and began to tickle him, though the man squealed like a little girl and ran like you'd never seen him run before.

"noho! Y/n!"

"Steven!~ I'm right behind you!" You yelled out.

And that's where you were now, dashing down the corridors, chasing Steven once you found out he was ticklish.

Honestly, it was Steven. You were surprised you hadn't found out sooner actually. Plus you were in a mischievous mood which minecraft just couldn't fulfill... but this could.

The two of you ran down corridors, around corners, even pumping into a couple people on the way.

"Steven! Better watch out! They're on your tail!" Someone cheered from behind, assuming it was Steven as if it was Jake or Marc, you'd be the one running. Steven yelped, turning around to see how much further behind you were.

"PISS OFF Y/N!" Steven and you made eye contact, obvious joy behind his eyes and laughter in his voice, then suddenly he slammed into the couch and tumbled forward, quickly getting trapped as you jumped on top of him, seizing the opportunity.

You trapped him between your thighs as he pathetically tried to fight, obviously not trying at all. (The two of you had sparred before, you knew he was stronger than that). He giggled and tried to push your leg so you'd fall, yet failing miserably when he looked up to see you wiggling your fingers at him, getting closer and closer with a big grin on your face.

Steven tried to shrink into himself and the sofa but failed miserably, already bursting into a thousand childish giggles in milliseconds.

"Wow Stevie, never realised you were so ticklish?! I haven't even touched you yet!" You laughed, hovering above his belly and wiggling your fingers. He was trying to cover him mouth now, embarrassed as the muffled giggles continued to fall out of his mouth.

"Yhy/nhn! WahahiT" before he even finished you dug your hands into his stomach, wiggling away and seeing how his voice went up about ten stories and burst into uncontrollable laughter, trying to cover his mouth.

"Aw, Steven! Don't hide your laughter" you laughed along with him, moving to squeezing his sides as if he was dough. This let out more muffled laughter as he began to scrunch his face up, shaking his head.

"You're laughter is amazing let me hear it!" You begged, beginning beginning trail up his ribcage making his laughter go very VERY high pitch, now merely squealing and kicking out if anything.

"What's that? Oh okay, I've got a new mission Steven, did you hear it? Probably not- but it's to get you to laugh out loud, aren't we lucky?" You teased, now lightly tickling his ribcage making him giggle up a storm, hands over his mouth and staring at you in horror and excitement, shaking his head with a smile too big to hide behind his hands.

You began to tickle his ribs properly again, making him squeal and shake his head, then quickly swapping to squeezing his sides, catching him off guard a little as he yelled out a laugh, but that wasn't it for you.

You continued your assault, but then decided to take this to another level, "Steven~ is everything alright? You seem a little distracted?" You asked, poking his sides now, one poke here, one poke there, each one catching him off guard and leaving him giggling.

"This is boring, I'm gonna play some music" you exhaled, pretending like you gave up, seeing the disappointed face where his hands let go of his mouth a little. Luckily, this was all you needed.

Quickly you were squeezing his sides again, but this time his instincts kicked in, grabbing your hands which somehow felt even more ticklish, and burst out into Steven-y laughter.

"WaHAiIt! WAiAiT! Noho FAhahIR! Y/n!" He screamed, shaking his head and trying to fight you off. Something made this all feel so much worse somehow for him, now distracted by his own laughter, going into more giggles when you tickled his tummy lightly.

Then you had a brilliant idea, Steven was on the edge but seemed to be having the time of his life, his laughter was loud but you knew there was one last thing to do to make him break.

"Steven~" you continued to squeeze his side while lifting up his shirt a little, the man's eyes went wide and he began to beg for you to stop, still laughing and smiling though.

"NoHO- nOhO y/N I cAhAAnT tAkhahake tHaHaT! StAhaAp iT" He was still laughing and only gently pushing you so you knew it was actually okay, but when you smirked at him and blew down- all he'll broke loose.

Steven pushed at your head when the second one came, screaming in ticklish agony, then kicked out at the third, begging with laughter, then the forth, fith... Steven called out for help and them suddenly began to call out a familiar name.

"MAHARC! MAHARC TAKE THE BODY TAHEHEAKE IT TAKE IT!" He then squealed your name before drowning in his own loud boyish laughter.

After a moment though his grip loosened and his body jumped a but, and somehow in a matter of seconds you were thrown onto the other couch, you burst out laughing,looking over to see as you assumed Marc, laying back heaving, their body obviously exhausted.

He looked dover to see your smug face and glared at you, calming down. After a moment though, his glare turned into a smirk. He got up and grinned at you, who was laying back on the couch watching him upside down.

"My turn"

Your eyes went wide as laughter already bubbled up in your chest. As much as you loved tickles, Marc and Jake were brutal. Damn well bloody brutal.

You tried to jump up and run away but you were quickly thrown backwards and underneath Marc in the same way you were over Steven. You giggled nervously, somewhat covering yourself from him.

"Oh how the tables have turned" Marc said with a grin, taunting you.

"Ihim sorry- please- we can go play minecraft and make you a base-"

"No no no, you need to be taught a lesson. Steven and you exhausted us so I'm getting recenge thanks" Marc tried to look serious but ultimately failed, holding his own mischievous grin on his face as he gently tickled around your neck to get you going.

"Whahait! Waiait!" You scrunched up, and began to giggle a little and that was all he needed. He then moved down to your sides unexpectedly and began squeezing them rapidly, making you jump out of your skin and burst into surprised laughter.

You begged a little but ultimately you knew this would be your demise. You never thought about death from tickles but holy shit Marc always made you question it.

He then moved yo to your ribs, scratching and zapping between your ribs, now getting full on screams out of you why you tried to push on his chest, laughing. You shook your head as he tazered your sides and ribs, the man was a whole lot worse and somehow got EVEN WORSE by teasing you.

Marc had tickled you before, along with Jake, you were surprised you'd never thought of doing I back until today, but with this, they also knew you weren't able to say the t word, and so, pain was born.

"Tickle tickle tickle y/n~" He teased, pinching and poking at your belly, then turning it into a spidering motion "does that tickle?" You didn't reply, your face getting a little redder buy overly trying to ignore him.

"You are so ticklish, almost as bad as Steven" He teased, then pulled up your arms and locked them in one hand on the couch.

"MAhArc wAit WAIT"

"Oh can't you handle a couple tickles?"

"MaRc iM sohorry!"

"Yeah? Me too kid" Suddenly there was a hand in your pit, scratching away as you threw your head back in bubbly laughter. You tried to fight back but it was considerably hard- once he got you fully begging he decided to do the wonderful finishing move you had done on Steven.

He leaned down and pulled up your shirt a little, squeezing your sides gently, teasing you a little before the grand finally.

"MahArC! MaHAHrC I'm sorry! I'm sohorry, don't!"

"You shouldn't be apologising to me" He grinned, then blew down on your tummy, this time really succeeding in making you throw your head back and squeal in laughter, kicking out behind him. You knew you were going to get revenge, but them thoughts disappeared when he blew down for a second time, then a third, then a forth...

"YOHOHOURE GOING TOHOHO KILL MEHEHEHE- MAHAHARRRCCCC!" You squealed as he blew a fith. You had no thoughts in your mind and just squealed and laughed, realising what it must have been like for Steven, though you still didn't feel that bad.

"Stevens waiting for an apology" He shrugged grinning and looking into a window with his reflection.

He then blew down another time, you gave up counting pretty quickly.

"STEHEHEVEN IM SORRY SOOHOHORRYSOHOHORRYSOHORHRHRRY!!!" Your words slured in laughter and you shook your head, dying on the inside.

Marc seemed to be listening to something, most likely Steven as he looked into the window (but he didn't give you any mercy, still tickling your sides as you weakly fought him off).

"Okay, fine, one last one for revenge though" He laughed, blowing down on your belly for one last time, though obviously letting this be the strongest and worst while still tickling your sides.

The noise you made wasn't human, and as soon as he let up even a little bit you threw yourself and him off the couch and onto the floor, he burst our laughing, much unlike him, but quickly quit and checked up on you. You were wrapping yourself in a hug and giggling, trying to stop whatever ghostly tickles were left on your skin.

"You alright y/n?"

"Fuhuck yohou"

"Round two?" He grinned, smirking at you. You jumped up though, apologizing desperately.

Marc laughed and patted you on the shoulder, then put his hands in his pockets. "Steven's laughing his ass off by the way" Marc's grin grew a little, knowing Steven he'd probably just yelled at him to shut up. You looked over to the reflection, obviously not seeing him but even so flipping him off with a playful smirk.

Marc laughed behind you and then began talking about something. You turned back around and asked if he wanted to play minecraft with you as Steven had already played and Marc seemed to care little. Turns out he didn't know how to play minecraft or what it even was?!?!

"Steven!? You hearing this! Mate doesn't even know minecraft- Marc you're so old" you teased, pretending to be annoying- which you were. In a nice kinda way.

Marc rolled his eyes and the two of you walked back to your room where you set him an account on your PlayStation and taught him controls, you assumed Steven was also trying to explain by how confused Marc was and kept yelling at him to shut up while fighting a Zombie.

You laughed and soon enough he'd learnt the controls and it SOMEHOW didn't take long till Marc had a better base than either you or Steven?! And then were pretty cool TwT

Later on you and Steven played again and the both of you were whining about Marc almost beating the game before you. It was a sad day for you both.

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anonymousewrites · 2 months

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Burden of Truth

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Non-binary! Reader Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Non-binary! Reader Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Non-binary! Reader

Eventual! Father Figure! Jake Lockley x Teen! Non-binary! Reader

Book 1:

Follows the Events of Season One

Prologue: On the Precipice

Chapter One: In the Alps

Chapter Two: In the Flat

Chapter Three: To the Neighborhood

Chapter Four: In the Discussion

Chapter Five: Against the Jackal

Chapter Six: Across Cairo

Chapter Seven: Inside the Pyramid

Chapter Eight: To Mogart

Chapter Nine: In the Skies

Chapter Ten: Into the Tunnels

Chapter Eleven: At the Sarcophagus

Chapter Twelve: During the Ritual

Chapter Thirteen: Against Harrow and Ammit

Chapter Fourteen: After the Battle

Chapter Fifteen: In a New Chapter

Taglist:

@jaytheaceenby

@severussimp

@dmitrytherat

@slytherinroyalty16

@grippleback-galaxy

@alexpangender

@thewittyfanficreader

@aew-kun-age-regression

@oscarissac2099

@amberforest08

@kyalov

@yyourmotherr

@im-making-an-effort

@the-toskaverse

@wra-1-th

@noodleryworld

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shallyouobeyme · 7 months

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Requests are open

Guys I just wanted to say that while I will probably be pretty busy this month with the entries for Yandere Writetober, I do take requests so if you have any ideas for Yandere stories - be they platonic, romantic or something else entirely - let me know. I'm pretty open to most things but I'll probably won't write Smut for now. Fandom-wise you can just request and I'll let you know If I write for it or not, or you check out the list at the end of this post (those were the ones I could think of on the spot tho so probably not a finished list).

Who knows, maybe some of you just wanna chat and exchange ideas, I'm open to that as well. Let me know

Batfam

One Piece (life action)

Marvel

Moonknight

Wednesday

Original Work

Spider-Man ATSV

BNHA

Doctor Who

Teen Wolf

Harry Potter

Criminal Minds

X-Men

Genshin Impact

Obey Me

ATLA

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headcans-oneshots-and-stuff · 1 year

Text

Hiya, so still not dead just extremely busy and working my new job in the hospital so you can imagine the stress. But I really wanna get back into writing and while I have some ideas of my own that I might attempts I‘d also like to offer my requests being opened until Wednesday noon (CET -Central European time) as a sort of truce for forgiveness about being absent. I’ll generally accept everything but right now I’m really stoked for:

Wednesday (and Addams family in general - especially platonic)

Moonknight

Platonic bat or superfam

Teen Wolf (especially pack x reader à la platonic)

#brina time #wednsday addams #Wednesday #Wednesday x reader #the Addams family x reader #batfam #batsis #platonic #moonknight #moonknight x reader #request #Teen Wolf

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yikesitskennawrites · 1 year

Text

Transitions- Chapter Thirty-Five: A Argument With Your Drunk Neighbor

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

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

---

The couch at Stevens place was much softer and more comfortable than the one at yours. That was evident enough when you finally sat on the cushions after changing clothes and taking a long shower. It was mainly just standing underneath the running water and staring blankly at the shampoo bottle until you snapped out of it enough to take the washcloth and scrub your body of the blood from the person you killed. You killed. You took a life to protect others and you were now beginning to feel the effects of that. You told yourself repeatedly that it was for the best, even as you listened to him breath through the hole in his neck, even as you watched him reach for the knife and grip the blade and you had to pull it out of his grasp and cut his palm open before you stabbed with a force you didn’t even know you had into his neck again and again.

Eight times. It took eight times for the light in his eyes to begin to fade and his body to fall limp. He was still in your apartment behind a locked door that you struggled with opening and locking shut. You didn’t know what to do as you walked down the hall in a blood stained sweat shirt and pants with no shoes on because for some fucking reason you were worried about tracking blood when you were literally Carrie from Stephen Kings novel. The feeling of the deity being present disappeared on that walk from your flat and to Stevens. You were left with the feeling of guilt and too fucking aware of what you just did; and no matter how many times you told yourself that it was for the best, you were still left with the feeling of guilt and the idea of taking one more life.

Not anybody else's, just yours. End it all, do one last vengeance for the kids and people you killed today. Do it to no longer have to suffer and cause suffering to others. You considered it: taking your own life for the thousandth time since you came back from the blip. You could go up to the rooftops and see the stars one last time before stepping right off. You could take the night bus to downtown and drown yourself in the icy river. You could dig through Stevens medicine cabinet and mix some prescriptions and just end it all. Throw in the towel and go wherever you’re destined to go after death. Fuck, Ammit would have loved you. She would have killed your ass right away because of how terrible the decisions are that you have made. Why did you listen to that deity in your flat? Why did you stay? You could have turned around and left as soon as he was on the ground and too distracted with the bleach pen you shoved into his eye.

You could have called Jake and told him what happened. You could have called Layla and asked for her to come over. But you didn’t because they hate you and everything just happened so quickly. The deity smothered any concerns you had for yourself, you recognized that when they left and you remained with the feelings of fear, anxiety, and guilt that you carried before they stepped into your place. They smothered it and made it like television static, you just felt too calm despite the knowledge that taking a person's life was wrong. You were too tuned down and out that the only thing on your mind was that you had to kill him. In hindsight, you could have left.

You changed after the shower, a pile of dirty and too red stained clothing in the corner of the bathroom. The person in the fogged mirror was not somebody you recognized, just like the person in the reflection of the knife you used to kill. The bruises on your throat were gone, the ache of it too, every injury you had gained within the last twenty four hours was healed. You knew it was by the deity, they took the opportunity to leave you with metal scars and relinquish you of any physical evidence on your body of the last day. It is frightening to think about how yesterday morning you woke up to Steven making vegetarian pancakes and today, you are sitting on the couch with all the lights on, waiting for Jake, Marc, or Steven to walk through that door.

It was nearing four in the morning on a Sunday and they have yet to make their way back to the building. Maybe they did come back but noticed that their light was on and decided to stay outside in the cold or go back to the bar or crash at someone's place. You haven’t called them, mainly because you still wanted to try and give them their space and let them breathe like Marc demanded. But, you were worried. Maybe they got attacked and because they were too inebriated they couldn’t fight them off very well.

How else would this plan have gone for the cult members? Because Harrow's cult must have been keeping an eye on you long enough to learn your schedule and routine, to sit outside of the building and watch Marc leave before sending in an asshole hours later to kill you. Because how else would they know to come to your apartment when your neighbors aren’t occupying the building at the same time? How did this fucker lock your door so quickly when you struggle with it? They already knew where you lived because they followed you home months ago. They know where you work because Amanda Bright walked right into your job and ordered a sandwich. You wonder if they are sitting outside of the building right now and waiting for their member to return to them or if they gave up and left.

The sound of jingling keys outside of the door and the handle being turned made you look at the only entrance and exit of the flat. Your heart pounds against your chest as you stare with wide eyes and the feeling of fear and anxiety flooding through you. The door opened and there Marc stood in the hallway, squinting at the brightness of the lights and his hair disheveled and shirt messy with new stains. He still wore the brown jacket you last saw him in. His eyes land on you and you think you see a series of emotions turning behind them.

“You’re still here.” He slurs out as he lets the door shut loudly behind him. You think he left his keys in the lock. “I thought you would be long gone by now.”

“I’m still here.” You say. He peels off his jacket and lets it fall to the floor before he kicks off his shoes, they go flying in different directions of the apartment and you make a metal note to check the lock in a few minutes.

“I thought you would be too mad at me to be here. You always go hiding and don’t speak to me for days.” You watch him as he sways in one spot, you can smell him from the couch. He stinks of cheap cigarettes, smoke, and alcohol. Your nose wrinkles as you watch him make his way towards the kitchen, knocking over a pile of Stevens books. You get up from the couch and pick up his shoes and place them next to the door before you open it up and take his keys from the lock before placing them into the bowl next to your own orange lanyard. You pick up his jacket and fold it over your arm. It needs to be washed, it smells too much like what Marc currently smells like and it was gross.

“You need a shower, Marc.” You tell him as you set the jacket into the laundry basket. Tomorrow, well later today, you need to go down to the laundry room and wash clothes. You need to do normal things after killing a man. You still don’t know what to tell them, it was obvious that Marc wouldn’t be able to wrap his head around what you did at the moment. He was too drunk and honestly, you would love to be just like he is right now: to be too drunk to properly deal with anything. You’ll tell them tomorrow when they’re sober and hungover. For now, you’ll try to pretend everything is fine and that there isn’t a dead body decomposing in your flat. Fuck, you hope the blood doesn’t soak through the floor and go into the ceiling of the neighbor below you.

“I don’t need a shower.” He protests and waves you off, “I need something stronger.” You almost snort as you watch him open up the cabinet and take out a Jack Daniels whisky bottle.

“Only if you’re willing to share.” You say as you lean against the island between you, the same one you carved pumpkins on Friday. He turns around, you can tell that the room was spinning for him by the look in his eyes.

“You’re not of legal age.”

“The U.K says I gotta be with adult supervision, actually.” You shrug, “But since you don’t remember, I’m twenty on paper past legal age for the U.K.” He scoffs. “They kicked you out of the bar?”

“It’s three in the morning, they said they were closing.” He answers before he turns slightly and opens up the cabinet door and takes out a small glass and places it on the surface you’re leaning against. You watch him unscrew the half empty bottle and pour about a quarter of the alcohol into it. He gently pushes it towards you before he takes a swig out of the bottle. You reach for the amber liquid, the glass cold in your hand as you pull it towards you and look down at the drink.

“It’s actually four am.” You tell him before you lift the cup and down the drink in one go. It burns in your throat on the way down and it causes you to wince.

“I would have thought that you never had alcohol before if it wasn’t for you taking it like a shot.”

“You’re not supposed to take it like a shot?”

“No, I would have poured it in a shot glass if you were supposed to.”

“Oh.” You say. “I thought you were supposed to…”

“Have you ever had alcohol?” He asks. You shake your head.

“I have not.” You tell him. Your parents rarely drank and didn’t bother keeping alcohol in the house because of your mom's father being an alcoholic. She said that she didn’t care for drinking since she grew up with her dad being drunk all the time as a kid; but on the occasions that she did drink such as anniversaries and New Years, she only had one glass and your dad did too. Neither of your parents offered you some alcohol because they said it was terrible for your young liver and not fully developed brain, and you weren’t interested in stealing any sips when they weren’t looking.

“I was fifteen when I had my first drink.” He says. “It was some cheap wine that was left over in my mothers glass when she passed out at the dinner table.” You swirl the little bit left in your glass, it wasn’t enough to drink and with the bitter taste in your mouth you didn’t want more. “I drank the rest of the glass because I knew that when she woke, she wouldn’t remember if it was half empty or not. It wasn’t as good as I thought it would be since she drank that all the time.” He takes a swig of the bottle.

You knew that he had some baggage on him, hell you carried some baggage yourself. But you never knew what it was for him since he was like a mystery to you. You knew each other for a few months, and about two of those were spent with Jake taking the body out for a spin. So, now that you were thinking about it, you don’t know Marc very well. It was a little weird having that revelation after spending so much time with them. You know Steven better than you know Marc and you met them both the same day. From how his story sounded, it seems like his mother was an alcoholic. You trail your eyes away from the small bit of amber liquid and to him. He took another swig and kept eye contact with you throughout it until he removed his lips from the bottle and swallowed.

“Steven says you look different.” He tells you. You watch his eyes trail over your face and down to your neck. Fuck, you feel different, you almost correct him. “Where are the bruises?” He sets the bottle onto the island and leans against it, keeping his eyes on your neck.

“Healed.” You say. Your nose wrinkles at the stench wafting off from him.

“You didn’t make a deal, right?” He asks.

You shake your head and answer, “No.” You watch as relief settles into his features. He picks the bottle back up by the neck.

“Do you want more, kid?” He asks and despite not wanting more moments ago, you suddenly do. Everything was getting too real and you just wanted it to be muffled for a while. You know that you’re using alcohol as a coping mechanism and you hope that it doesn't stick. You nod and he pours about another quarter full into it. You stand in silence and tap your fingers gently against your glass before taking a small sip this time. It still doesn’t taste better the second time around.

“I thought I lost you.” He suddenly says, breaking the tension between you. He sounds the most sober that you have heard from him since he came back to the flat. You look down at your glass, your stomach churns with more guilt. “You hung up and those eleven minutes I just kept thinking about how you were dead and it was all my fault; I didn’t know if you were alive and- and I kept thinking about the best place to bury you. Because you sure as hell are not getting dumped into the Thames River.” Your mouth dries as you listen to him take several gulps from the bottle.

“I thought about calling the police on you at the bar. Damn near should have.” He says. “Steven stopped me. Said how you were safer with us than anywhere else. Sure doesn’t feel like it. Can’t even protect you right.” He slurs. Saying sorry doesn’t feel like it would cover anything but rather placing a childs size band-aid on a massive head wound. But you say it anyways because there’s not much else you can say to express how much guilt you feel for your suicidal action of staying in a burning building with a cult shooting up the place.

“I’m sorry,” You say. “I know that it's not enough and I will try to make it up to you.”

“What about that handshake deal you made with us, huh? What about staying on the line in something as shitty as today? How can I trust you again?” He presses and takes another swig. Your fingers press against the glass a little harder, not enough to crack it but to release a little bit of the building pressure inside of you. How fucking rich was the question coming from him. You try to swallow down the hurt as you listen to him speak. “Go on, tell me how.”

But, of course, you weren’t successful, “What about telling me the truth about your fucking marriage and not being blipped?”

“Our deal was to be truthful with things that will affect us, not to go into our personal lives. I am not your friend, I am not your parent, I am your neighbor trying to keep you alive.” Your shoulders tense and you inhale a sharp breath. You try not to show him how much his words affect you.

“It fucking effects me when you lie about something that I experienced. I lost five fucking years of my life, Marc.”

“Millions of people lost their lives! You are not special.” He retorts as he glares at something in the distance. Part of you hopes that Steven or Jake is trying to talk some sense into him, but another part of you doesn’t because at least now, he’s showing how he truly feels. You know what they say about how drunk thoughts speak sober words.

“I lost my parents.” You say, “I lost my whole fucking life. I was supposed to go to college, and graduate high-school with a cap and gown, and I was supposed to celebrate my sixteenth birthday with my family. I was supposed to do all these fucking things but now I’m here. Being harassed by a cult and some god that has their head so far up my ass that I’m sure they’re in a whole other universe.”

“Join the fucking club, I never had my parents.” He says. Another swig, this time the liquid leaks out of the corner of his mouth and wets his shirt. “You did this to yourself. You could have stayed in New York and had your shit put together there instead of being dragged into this mess and meeting me.” Tears burn your eyes and you try to hide it behind your glass as you one shot the whisky again. He’s such a fucking asshole. He fucking hates you. They all hate you.

“Pour me more.” You demand and he does. This time it reaches nearly the top of the glass and you wrap your hand around it, alcohol splashing across the surface of the counter and onto your sweatpants as you bring it to your mouth and take a large gulp. You set it onto the counter as your throat burns and your intestines match it. You still don’t understand how people enjoy this stuff.

“How can I trust you?” You ask. “How can I trust the intentions of my neighbor to keep me alive when they lie about shit all the fucking time?” Okay, maybe you stretched that, but it was a valid question. How can you trust someone who lied about being blipped and being married and acting like a prick? How did Layla fall in love with him enough to even say yes to his proposal?

He laughs sarcastically and downs the rest of the bottle before smashing it on the floor. Glass shards scatter across the floor and you wince at the noise of the impact. You’re not wearing shoes and when you walk glass will cut your feet. You watch as he rubs his face with his hands.

“I guess we both have the same problem, don’t we?” He slurs once he removes his hands. You move your eyes back to your glass, the amber liquid was filled a little over half way. Your fingers wipe against the condensation of the glass as you both wait for the other to speak. Your thought about how much they hate you became true. They really do hate you and you can’t blame them. From how Marc has been speaking, you were a chore, a job, for them and not a friend like you thought you were for a long time. You told Steven that you considered them friends and went with it. Everything hurts. You did everything for them. You took a person's life to assure their safety and others and you were just a problem.

You pick up your glass and down the rest of the liquid. You weren’t drunk, maybe a little buzzed and it made everything worse instead of better. You just wanted your mom, not Layla, not Steven, your real mom; and you can’t have her because she is dead and she’s not coming back. You set your glass on the table, deciding to deal with it in the morning- or later today in this case. You turn your body and take a step away from the island, the bottom of your feet pinch and you stifle a yelp at the feeling as you walk towards the sofa and sit down before inspecting your feet. Glass shards stuck out and you pluck them out with your fingers as you try not to cry. You heard Marc stumble towards you and you hope that he wasn’t planning on giving you any more of his mind because you have nowhere to go if you wanted to leave.

You weren’t going to ask Layla to come pick you up at four in the morning and you weren’t going to return to your apartment. You will tell them about the body when Marc is sober, he will lash out on you if you tell him now and it will upset you more. Then you can clean up the blood, and you’ll be out of their hair for good. Only show them that you are alive and well by knocking on their door everyday after work but never enter the apartment. You’ll keep your end of the deal until you turn eighteen and then you’ll move cities, maybe continents again. Start new, fresh, away from them. Take yourself out of the equation and block their numbers. Don’t let yourself become attached again.

“Look at you, getting hurt, because of me.” He says, his voice causes you to jump and you whip your head to look at him. His eyes are on the blood rising from the cuts on the bottom of your feet before they trail to your red eyes that are becoming blurry. You hold your breath, waiting for him to say something mean but instead you watch as his posture slouches.

“Oh, dove, I’m so sorry.” Steven slurs, falling halfway over the back of the couch. His cheeks land on the cushions and he pulls the lower half of his body over the back of it. He rests his head on the armrest of the sofa and his legs curled back before he pushes himself up into a sitting position. His own eyes were bloodshot and had tears in them, crying wasn’t a good look for them.

“Marc loves you, he’s just scared he’ll lose you too.” Steven whispers. “The bloke is an idiot who doesn’t know what he’s saying half the time.” You wince as you pull out a big piece of glass and place it on the coffee table.

“Here let me,” He says. His hands wrap gently around your foot to bring it closer to him.

You jerk your foot out of his grasp as if he was on fire, “Don’t touch me.” You hiss at him. He frowns and you turn your eyes back to your foot to care for your wounds and to try not to feel guilty about the tears running down his face. He sniffles and you know that this isn’t fair to treat him like this. He hasn’t done anything wrong to you and he was terrified for you in the mall, but you just can’t get it out of your head that you are a job for him too.

“Do you want to talk about it, dove?” He asks. You can see out of the corner of your eyes that he curled his hands into fists and he was holding onto the pants he wore like it was his lifeline.

“Don’t call me dove.” You tell him as you pull another chunk of glass out of your foot and set it next to the other one. “I am not your dove, I am not your friend, Steven.” The words hurt to say aloud but it needed to be said.

“You really believe what that idiot told you?” He slurs, he says your name to catch your attention and you force yourself to focus on your foot. “He’s doing this to be an asshole to you to push you away and you’re letting it work.”

“He’s just speaking the truth, Steven.” You say, you finally look at him and your heartbreaks at the sight of him crying and trying to not let it show.

“He’s not.” His voice cracks. You feel your own tears run down your cheeks. “Please believe me that he’s not.” You bite your wobbling lip and he reaches out for you with shaky hands.

“He- he loves you, dove.” You let his hands settle onto yours. “I love you so much that it’s not funny.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re drunk, Steven.” You tell him, he shakes his head vehemently.

“He was telling us how you’re dead in the headspace on the way over, how there's no chance that you are alive, and I think he was squashing any hope he had for you to be alive so it wouldn’t hurt him.” His thumbs rub against the back of your hand. “I was thinking about how you’re a fighter and there’s no way that you are dead; and if you were… I didn’t get a chance to tell you how much you mean to me.” Your nose strings and you choke out a sob.

“I’m a murderer, Steven.” You protest. Your hands shake. None of this was fair.

“No, you- you didn’t kill anyone in that mall today.” He cups your cheek, making you look him in the eye. “Don’t even think that for a second.” He places his hand on the back of your head and pulls you towards him to place a kiss on your forehead. You shake your head once he removes his lips from your skin. The words build up in your throat to tell him about the dead cult member in your apartment, but you can’t get them out when you feel his arms wrap around you and pull you against his chest before you’re both laying on the couch. Your legs are slightly draped over his and his arm wrapped around you, hugging you to his side so you won’t fall off the edge of the sofa.

“You’re like my own child.” He laughs through a sob. You bury your face into his chest, your fingers wrapping around the cloth of his shirt. “And I thought- I thought I wouldn’t ever get to see you again. Marc almost had me fooled, damn him.” That nearly causes a laugh to bubble out of your chest but instead, a sob erupts and you feel terrible about all the intrusive thoughts you had today.

You turn your face away from his chest and say, “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” You feel his arms tighten around you just a fraction.

“I’m telling you that because it’s the truth.” He says. “You don’t have to believe me, but I hope that you will one day.” You swallow harshly, your throat still kind of burns from the drink. You try to calm yourself down enough to think clearly, you still feel pretty wrecked from everything that has happened. You don’t know if you trust Steven completely, but part of you hopes that what he said is true.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, you tilt your head back to look at him and he tilts his head down to look at you. “About everything that happened today.” He clarifies. You trail your eyes away and to the backrest cushion of the couch. Eight times, you thought, eight times it took before he was dead. The red light in your kitchen made it worse and that deity, it definitely wasn’t Horus. Was it Taweret? You’ll need to ask Layla about it.

“No,” You say. “Not right now. Tomorrow.” You pause. “When you’re more here and not, y’know. Drunk.” Maybe he’s so drunk that none of them will remember this conversation. He hums and you watch his eyes close.

“Okay.” He whispers. You can feel his chest rise and fall and you watch it for a moment. Everything you did today in your flat was for them. So, they can continue doing what Steven is doing right now: breathing. You get up by placing your hand on his chest and push yourself off of him and he grunts at the pressure on his chest. You take out the remaining glass shards and place them next to the others before you’re shaking him awake. He groans as his eyes slide open.

“Get up Steven,” You urged him. “You need to take a shower and drink a few bottles of water before you sleep.” You shake him a little more. “Get up, you stink and I don’t want to deal with you having a massive hangover.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo.” Marc slurs and you nearly freeze in your movement. “I’m sorry for what I said.” You were still rightfully upset at him but you don’t feel like leaving him to his own devices especially when it will affect Steven and Jake.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning.” You tell him. You pull him up by his arms and he groans. “C’mon. You do actually stink and I don’t want to smell it on the couch I’m sleeping on tonight.”

“You’re sleeping on the couch?” He asks as you throw his arm over your shoulder and guide him to the bathroom. “Why’s that?”

“Because I can’t deal with sleeping next to you right now.” You sit him on the toilet and he sniffles.

“I’m sorry.” He says. He sounds like a child who got in trouble for something they did by accident. You grasp the edges of his shirt and pull it over his head before dropping it to the floor and making him unbutton his pants before tugging it down his hips and off of his legs. Soon, his socks followed and he was left in his black boxers. You frown at the sight of some glass sticking out of the bottom of his feet.

“Stay still,” You order as you crouch down and begin to pluck out the shards and toss them into the trash can next to you.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” He tells you as you inspect his other foot. “I hurt everyone. I hurt you. I hurt Steven. I hurt Randall. I hurt Layla. Layla is mad at me. Do you think she will forgive me?” You glance up at him, wasn��t Randall his brother that died decades ago?

“I think you need to talk about some issues with her.” You tell him as you stand.

“I love Layla.” He admits and you were surprised that he was open enough to admit that. “And Steven was right,” He adds. You stare at him blankly. What the fuck was he talking about? He was saying that he loves his wife, but now he was saying that Steven is right? Steven told you that Marc loves you and you took that information with a grain of salt. You know that Marc is drunk, and you know that he would never openly admit his feelings, that he would rather eat a bullet before those three words would ever leave him sober. But, he sure as hell was giving you whiplash.

You must have either made him uncomfortable enough to change the subject or his drunken mind got distracted because he looked away from you and to the corner of the bathroom you left the bloodied clothes in.

“What’s that?” He asks.

“We’ll talk about it later.” You tell him.

“Did you try to dye clothes while I was gone?” He asks and you nearly scoff. You wish it was color dye rather than what it actually is.

“A cold shower is going to do you some good, right now.” You say instead. “Get in it Marc.” He groans in response before you’re tugging him up off of the toilet and helping him sit down in the shower. You turn on the water before letting it run over him. You hope that the cold will help sober him up some. Maybe you should make him open his mouth and drink the running water to help quicken the process. You sit down outside of the shower and watch as he rests his head against the wall and closes his eyes. You cross your legs into a criss-cross formation and place your arms on your knees before leaning forward.

From how he’s acting, you doubt that he will remember anything from this morning. You play with a loose thread of a sweater you borrowed from Steven. You know that you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight because your mind will be replaying the events of what you did hours ago. You can’t even tell them about it because of how drunk they are. You would have to repeat it to them when they wake up tomorrow or later today. You feel like you're alone right now and that makes you want to cry. You swallow as you look away from the thread and to Marc, you need a distraction to get rid of the sight of the man's eyes shooting open and looking up at you in fear.

“I bought you a yellow sweater and Jake a couple packs of marshmallows and Steven a miniature glass frog.” The words tumble from your mouth before you even realize it. Tears were pooling in your eyes. “I’m sorry that you won’t ever get to see them.”

“You bought me a sweater?” He asks, his eyes peeling open to look at you. You nod. “Really?”

“Yeah,” You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and nod again. “I had to go to several stores to find this sweater and you won’t ever get to wear it.”

“I wouldn’t get the chance to.” He says. “You’ll steal it for yourself.” You laugh and he smiles at the sound of it.

“It’s okay.” He grumbles. “As long as you’re okay and alive, I don’t care.” You sniffle and he closes his eyes. You watch him for a few minutes, waiting for yourself to finally calm down enough to stand and put him to bed. Once you stand, you turn off the water and grab a towel from the shelf before tossing it onto him.

“It’s bedtime, Marc.” You say as you lean down and pat him dry with the towel. “You get to drink a bunch of water and then sleep.” He groans and you try to be patient with him to open his eyes.

“Another reason I don’t want to sleep next to you is because you’re going to be soaking wet.” You teasingly say once he opens his eyes. You push back his wet hair and he hums. He doesn’t look too good. He looks sick like he’s going to throw up. “Marc?” You ask.’

“Yeah?” He grumbles out. He leans into your touch a bit and you don’t pull away.

“If you throw up on me, I will sock you.” You tell him. You won't actually punch him but you hope that he will think you’ll consider it. He chuckles and the sound makes you feel like everything might be alright. “C’mon.” You tell him. “Don’t fall asleep on me just yet, we still gotta get some water into you.”

“I should be taking care of you.” He mumbles as you help him get out of the shower before heading to bed. “You went through so much today and I couldn’t even be there for the after.” You weren’t going to tell him that it was okay because you did need somebody. You do need someone to tell you that it wasn’t your fault and to be sober while saying it. But, that body in your flat right now, is your fault. You set him on the edge of the bed and lift up his legs as his head lands on the pillow. You leave him momentarily to fetch a few bottles for him to down, and you were careful of the glass shards as you got them.

“You know that night that you wanted to stay the first time? I didn’t want to do it.” He says. You raise an eyebrow, trying to think back to what he was talking about. The first night that you asked? That was months ago. It was understandable that he didn’t want to say yes because you were sixteen and it was weird for a grown man to let a stranger sleep in their apartment.

“Yeah?” You say as you set the bottles down next to Stevens nightstand books and crack the seal on one to make him drink it.

“But, Steven convinced me to say yes.” He tells you. You figured that they had to have some discussion on it so that wasn’t surprising. You tell him to sit up and he does after a few moments. You hold the bottle to his lips and he drinks from it and you make sure that he drinks the entire thing before you put the cap back on the bottle and let it drop to the floor.

“Steven…Steven told me to be the person that I needed when I was younger and that’s why I said yes.” He tells you. You stare at him and he leans back, letting his body fall back onto the mattress. That was something you didn’t know, you thought it had to do with pity, but no, it was Stevens advice.

“Oh,” You breathe out. Part of you wants to retort that he was doing a shit job at it, but another tells you to keep your mouth shut; and you follow the latter. You were still upset with Marc, but this piece of information was toying with your heart. You really do want to believe that everything Steven told you was the truth but it was difficult to accept, especially with the argument that you and Marc had no too long ago.

“Can you…?” He hesitates and you watch him fiddle with the sheets for a moment. “Can you read to me?” You watch his face for any sign that he was fucking with you, but he seems absolutely genuine.

“Yeah,” You say, “Scoot over a bit.” He does and leaves enough room on the edge of the bed for you to sit on. You reach for the top book left on Stevens nightstand. The yellow cover was comforting to look at and it reminded you so much of your childhood, especially with the colorful jumping fish on the cover. You have a vague recollection of your own father reading this to you, but even a more recent memory of Steven reading it to you just last week. You watch him close his eyes and you push back the drying curls from his forehead before you peel open the book.

You read, “One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish…”

---

Work Cited: Seuss. One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish: Dr. Seuss. Collins, 2005.

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