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satashiiwrites · 2 years

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WIP Wednesday—sneak peek edition

Title (Tentative): Death, Rebirth and the Jackal, II: A Puzzle Piece

Fandom: Mass Effect Andromeda, The Mummy Trilogy, elements also from American Gods, Moon Knight and other random fandoms

Pairings: Eventually MReyder

Other tags: First Draft. Shifting POVs, Abuse of Egyptian Mythology and Google, Not quite a fusion retelling of the Mummy, Somebody is a Shifter, Every story is better with a Cowboy and this one has Cora as one. This is likely to be my MReyder week output if I can finish it i’m just going to ignore all themes and just finish this. Period specific attitudes—set early 1900s in Egypt. I have done research but it’s not exhaustive people so i’m going to get some things wrong and it might even be on purpose occasionally.

Special thanks to @tkwritesdumbassassins for allowing me to talk at them.

Cairo is a cacophony of sound and smells. Everything jumbled up and louder and smellier around each and every corner and alley. The snake charmer plays his flute, the stall owner hawks his wares trying to draw the passer by into their stalls, the cry for prayer comes from the minaret. Sara was supposed to be sitting at her small desk stuffed in the back corner of the research office but she’d escaped to get get some air and had decided to take a stroll through the marketplace to shake off the late afternoon doldrums.

People passed her by making no note of her in her simple Western dress and lack of headscarf that the local women all wore. Instead she relied on a jaunty wide brimmed hat she’d purchased with a bit of her pin money as a small luxury. Scott had even liked it and he never paid any attention to fashion in the least. Or at least he hadn’t blanched at the cost. It’d been her money she’d spent so he’d had no cause to comment but he’d at least said she looked good in it.

She did look good in it—the mirror told her that much even as she had to tuck a few flyaway hairs back up into the neat twist she always wore her hair in. Her skirts were hiked up just a bit so they didn’t drag in the dirt of the street and her sensible boots didn’t slip on the uneven stones.

The heat of the late afternoon baked everything it touched, making the air seem to shimmer despite the dry wind that came out of the south that gave just enough relief to make the heat bearable. Taking a left through the maze of the market, she was examining a few old books on the corner of the table while the stall owner inspected another man’s items. The man was wearing the local military uniform but he had an indolent sloppiness to him. His whiskers were unshaven and his breath smelled of something rotten-likely the yellowed teeth that he spat through into the dirt between his unpolished boots, unmindful of the presence of a female just feet away.

“I can pay ten,” the shop owner said after a moment poking around in the leather satchel. A black octagon shaped stone box caught Sara’s attention. There were beautifully etched hieroglyphics on the sides but she couldn’t make out the inscription as the man set it aside to riffle through a selection of clothing, a long knife with a bone handle and a standard military field kit.

What an odd collection—where had the box come from? Surely she would have heard if a new dig had discovered something so odd and beautiful looking? It would sell very well on the antiquities market unless it was a fake?

It likely was a fake. A well made fake but still a fake. However it was unlike anything she’d ever seen and she had access to most new discoveries as she was responsible for cleaning them and indexing them. She was a glorified secretary she knew but it was still fascinating work and it was real academic work like she’d always wanted.

Just like Mom had been with Dad. Her thoughts wandered, turning the odd box’s appearance around in her mind as the stall owner asked a few questions about the rest of the items in the field kit.

She wondered where the soldier had gotten the satchel. It looked like military issue but not his—the leather did not match his and she could see the US cavalry insignia stamped into the strap.

American—even more unusual and interesting.

“Ten?” The man exclaimed in disgust. “I can get three times that in any other stall!”

The stall owner was shrewd and unmoved. “Then take it there—this is a dead man’s belongings. Perhaps he isn’t even dead yet Azim?”

The soldier—Azim—opened and closed his mouth soundlessly, his face turning an ugly reddish purple as he blustered out a response and the haggling began in earnest. “Twenty five!”

“Ten.”

They continued to haggle, the stall owner not budging from his offer of ten pounds. The leather satchel itself was probably worth at least that as it was in good condition she supposed.

Checking her own purse, she counted her money. “Twelve pounds fifty pence.”

The stall owner looked at her in disbelief. “He stole these things,” he informed her urgently, hand making a jabbing motion at the soldier. “You would buy the belongings of a dead man?”

Sara hadn’t missed that her offer had yet to be actually accepted or denied and, well, what was the difference between buying antiquities that were thousands of years old versus ones that hadn’t yet seen their first decade? She wanted to see how they’d made the box—it was a good fake. Gesturing towards the really obvious fake statuary on the shelving behind them she shrugged. “You sell dead things too.”

The shopkeeper glanced at the shelves, frown deepening in suspicion before he shrugged. “I suppose you are right. Still he came to sell them to me.”

“But I’m making the better offer,” Sara firmly insisted before turning to the soldier. “So do we have a deal?”

The soldier was clutching the satchel to his chest, looking her up and down and noticing that her skirts were pulled up high enough that the entirety of her boot up to mid calf was visible which made him lick his lips as a smarmy smile began to creep across them. “What else will you—“

“Twelve pounds fifty. Take it or leave it.”

The men seemed both stunned into silence by her boldness. Really they were so silly to let their minds be turned by a flash of a woman’s booted ankle but she was going to use it to her advantage.

“Well?”

Nodding dumbly, the soldier held out his hand for her money which she handed over. He took time to count it thrice before holding out the satchel for her to take. It was unexpectedly weighty but she slung it over one shoulder to keep the open top in front so no wandering hands might take something without her noticing. Pickpockets were a real problem in the market if you weren’t careful.

Neither man spoke further as she left them behind. She wanted to get back to work and see what she could make of her new box. Plus the satchel would be good for carrying around the few books she took home each week to read (and allow her brother to also read).

#Sara ryder #eventual Mreyder #mass effect andromeda #alternative universe #Not a Mummy Movies Fusion but heavily inspired by them #abuse of Egyptian mythology #borrowed egyptian gods #anubis #reyes vidal #scott ryder #slow burn #wip wednesday #death rebirth and the jackal #sneak peek

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bccksmarts · 9 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞

Now, there isn't really a sector for this within the Ministry, but let's say there is, just for this. Perhaps in the Department of Mysteries. Hermione is that of the librarian there, who does file paperwork but also goes on her own little adventures for the sake of research.

She'll be sent to places all over the world in search of magical artefacts, cursed or otherwise. She thrives on it, actually. She gets to travel to places she's never been, discovering magical items that hold so much history and magic behind them. Sometimes they're easy trips, sometimes they're dangerous trips.

Harry, Ron and Ginny often express their concern for her with how easily she's up and off, touching items that could possibly kill her. She understands, of course she does, but what life was it to work behind a desk all the time? Not a life, if you ask her. Sometimes Harry or Ron are assigned with her ( if they've taken the auror path ) and even then it's hard to keep a sort of ❛leash❜ on her.

It's thrilling for her, really. Seeing the world and excavating ancient items from tombs, vaults and things alike, and then returning to Wizarding London with her findings, proud of herself ( even if she has a few cuts and bruises ). She'll even purchase books and other items—souvenirs for her friends and family mostly—and bring them home, the books going straight onto her bookcase in an orderly fashion.

She gets sneers from the likes of Lucius Malfoy, ❛A muggleborn mudblood getting her hands dirty. Typical. Have you no dignity?❜, nothing new, really. It just makes her eye roll, and she cracks on with her day like she hadn't heard the pompous wanker at all. Always the odd few that look at her with utter disdain, but does she care? No, not one bit.

Getting her hands dirty to find items worth thousands of galleons for research, or knowledge for her, was worth it. Very, very worth it. Fulfilling, actually.

That being said, her trips aren't all that often. 3-4 times a year, at most. And sometimes, she'll even come home utterly fruitless in her search of being in another country for a few weeks. It's just one of those things that can't be helped. At least she can bring some books she'd purchased over there with her, that was definitely still a win, and she can make a good report for the Ministry.

#✦ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎 ➜ ｢ Verse Notes ｣#✦ 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝟎𝟐.𝟕 ➜ ｢ The Ministry's Swotty Archaeologist ｣#⦗✦| yes‚ she gives off ALL of the Evelyn Carnahan vibes and I love that for her |✦⦘#⦗✦| Somewhat inspired by the ❛Between Us Flows the Nile❜ fic bc that is CHEFS KISS |✦⦘#⦗✦| But also very inspired by The Mummy movies ♡ |✦⦘

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lw6-woso · 5 months

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not all sunshine and rainbows (wonze X child!reader)

travelling with a toddler could either go really bad or really good nothing inbetween, and it stress both your mothers a lot. it was the day of travelling all the way to Austrailia for the World cup. everyone was a little nervous for the trip, but nothing came close toLucy and keira. both girls had been planning for this trip for months, from inspiration to shopping it took a lot. you had never been on such a long plane ride before, and now that you are three it makes things a little bit more difficult with keeping you entertained for the 20 hour plain ride.

it was the morning of the flight and you felt a hand running up and down your back making you groan not happy to be woken up.

you slowly opened your eyes and saw your mama hanging over your cot "no mama seep time" you said to lucy trying to move away.

"come on lovey its morning we got to get breakfast" Lucy said to you, not wanting to make you grumpy and have you in a good mood for the day.

you slowly sat up and grabbed your bunny and blanket, you rocking major bedhead and lucy picked you up, kissing your head.

"big bed" you whispered as mama walked towards hers and mommys bed.

"yeah big bed gonna have some snuggles" mama said.

your mama drooped you on the bed and you instantly snuggled into your mummys bare chest. you looked on the bed side table and saw your dummy and reached for it and put it straight into your mouth snuggling back up

"hello my love whats with the dummy its morning time" mummy said but thankfuly didnt take it from you. you all snuggled for a little bit but unfortunatley you had to go for breakfast. your mums didnt get you changed out of your PJs and just sorted out your hair.

walking down to the lunch room and you ended up in your Mamas arms, still not funny awake, you still had your dummy in your mouth and in each hand was you bunny and blanket, at this point of the day your mama and mummy had realised that you were going to be quite clingy and just wanting to be in arms reach of both women.

your mummy got some food on your plate a little bit of each thing you pointed out and then you was sat next to leah whilst your mums went to get there own food, you sat happily eating your food, in silence. most of the girls where confused as they had never seen you this quiet you were normally dancing around, but not today.

your mama came back first and you gave her your dummy, which you did everytime you ate.

"thank you baby" she said kissing your head, and you went back to eating all your breakfast. once you ate all you breakfast leah asked you a question "ready ready to go on a plane today"

"big plane aunty lee lee" you said and she nodded.

"yeah i seep" you said figetting in your seat.

"your gonna sleep" she asked and you nodded.

you went over to you mama and sat in her lap and hid under her shirt.

"oh my little baby" mama said stroking your back.

once everyone finished breakfast sarina talked to everyone about today and then everyone left to do there own thing to prepare for the travel, the three of you went up to your room to pack everything and get your carry on bags ready. your mums were tag teaming with everything mama was packing the big bags and mummy was putting things in the small bags and getting you dressed.

"mummy bluey on pain" you said.

"yes baby we have movies as weel for the plane" she said and you went to sit next to her and watch.

"else" you said wanting to know what else.

"so your little bag you have snacks toys book lots of things to play with" she said.

"pull up" you said pointing to the several pull ups next to your bag.

"yes we want you to wear a pull up on the plane" she said and you nodded.

since you had just turned three a month ago you were still trying to get hold of potty training and with the amount of flying and change that will be happening today taking you having accidents both you mums wanted to take it out of the equation of problems that could occur.

"no acident" you said and Keira nodded glad you understood what was happening.

once all the bags were packed and at the door it was time to get on the coach. Mummy went to put the bags on the coach and you were sat with mama laid on the bed, your dummy back in your mouth.

"you going to be a good girl today" mama asked.

"yeah" you said through your dummy.

"so we are going to go on the big bus and then he big plane its going to be a lot of sitting down okay its a long time but if you want or need anything you got to tell me or mummy okay so we can help" she said and you nodded.

it was a little further into the day and you had reached the airport, the bus trip was good as you had a little nap on Leah's lap and you were now walking hand in hand with Leah walking towards security, when they all arrived to security, you were handed of to your mama, who gave you a kiss on the cheek when you pouted at not being with your aunty Leah.

"lee lee" you said to your mama trying to get out of her arms.

"hold on just got to get through security first" your mama said.

"no mama" you said starting to cry.

"hey hey what's with the tears" mummy said wiping your face.

"lee lee mummy" you said.

"oh lovey" your mummy said as you silently cried.

you continued to cry, until you were at the front of the line, your mama went through first putting you on the floor, causing you to cry hysterically.

"mama" you cried loud.

"come on the walk to me" she said kneeling down, but you made no efforts to move and just cried.

mummy was behind you and put her hand on your back making you walk through the metal detector and the moment you went through mama picked you up into her arms, as you continued to cry.

"no like" you said.

"i know baby i know its all over, now its time for the plane" she said wiping your face, trying to calm you down. once everyone was through security you all walked through towards the gate and you stayed in your mamas arm, with a death grip. everyone sat down and mummy came up you stroked your face.

"you want to go potty before we go on the plane" she asked and you nodded head resting on mamas shoulder.

"come on then lovey and we can get into so nice comfy clothes" she said picking you up and walking towards the nearest toilet. whilst mummy was getting you changed into some comfier clothes you asked.

"mummy bluey on plane" you asked.

"yes baby you wan watch bluey on the plane and in your own big girl seat" she said.

"with you and mama" you asked more questions.

"oh yes in between me and mama" she said.

"where lee lee" you asked.

"lee lee is next to mummy with g" mummy said now walking out of the toilet.

you walked towards your mama now a little bit happy after the little situation which wont me mentioned for the rest of the trip, you where happily sat on the floor with Georgia playing the goal being to tire you out a little bit which was working your dummy in your mouth and blanket in hand. you were rarely allowed your dummy during the day and only for night times, your mums both needed some comfort for you to have with a busy day like today.

after twenty minutes it was time to get on the plane, you were sat at the window looking at the plane whilst you everyone was boarding.

"come on lovey time to get on the plane" mummy said and you ran into her arms. walking into the plane you were skipping along with mummy by your side.

"where mama" you asked noticed her absense.

"she's on the plane getting your seat ready" she said, and you were confused what she meant by that. when walking to your seat you said hi to all the players and the staff and high fived Sarina.

"mama" you shouted when you noticed her.

"hello lovey" she said and she put you in your seat. which had your blanket bunny and other blanket set up.

you snuggled into your bunny and saw Leah poking her head around you mummy.

"lee lee" you giggled.

"hello baby you comfy" she said.

"yeah me go night night" you said.

"not yet to early for night night you haven't had your tea yet" Leah said.

"night night soon bluey first" you said.

"of course bluey" she said, knowing you always watched bluey before bed, after the hundreds of sleep overs you both had.

everyone was in there seat and the plane was taking off, your mama had given you a drink whilst the plane went in the air so your ears would pop without cause you any pain, you were sat in your own seat hanging over to your mama gripping onto her shirt clearly ready for a nap but your mums where advised not to let you sleep until about an hour or two in.

the plane had gotten up in the air, your drink was finished and everyone was moving about some to other seats and to the toilet.

"mama wee" you said to her.

"come on then" she said, getting out of her seat. you may have a pull up on but lucy was happy that you stuck to the routine of going to the toilet when you needed to.

after while it was now an hour and a half into the flight and everyone food was handed out and you were eating whilst watching bluey on the plane tv, happy as ever.

your mums where happy that you hadn't kicked off about something and you were the happy kid you were, well for the majority of it anyway, you ate your food happy and then climbed over you mummy and in Leah's lap almost instantly who was on facetime with Alex.

"well hello little bronzy" she said over the phone, and you snuggle into Leah's chest closing your eyes.

"right ill let you go and be with your favourite little one" Alex said.

"hey no sleeping you" Leah said poking you.

"night night with lee lee" you said finalising you wanted to go to sleep.

Leah looked over to Lucy who had sighed.

"you have to stay awake Y/N" mama said.

"no mama" you said sitting up with a pout on your face and your mama gave a you a look. you knew you shouldn't push when she gave you that look but you were two tired.

"night night soon okay you need your pjs first come one watch bluey for a bit" your mummy said trying to diffuse the situation but it only made you start the water works.

"you want to watch bluey with me" Leah said and you nodded.

tears still going down your face. all three women felt guilty just wanting to let you sleep but it was for your own good in keeping you awake. sitting happily in Leah's lap you were getting more and more tired by the minute, and your parents in looking at your tired face. mama had gotten up and grabbed your pjs and a fresh pull up with some wipes.

"some on then sleepy head" mama said and picked you up.

"bluey" you said.

"will be back with lee lee" she said carrying to the toilets, getting you changed was a struggle as you were to tired to hold your head up.

walking out the toilet you were in mamas arms and she walked up and down the isle trying to get you fully asleep, your blanket, dummy and bunny where in your arms, the plane was quiet everyone either asleep or calming down going to bed.

you weren't going to sleep, mama had noticed how tired you were but you were looking at her twirling her hair.

"go to sleep lovey" lucy said carrying on rocking you.

mama sat down with you and lifting the windows of cutting of the rest of the girls from the small family, mama took her shirt of and you your shirt of putting you both skin to skin, she rested your blanket on top of you both. and this got you fast asleep.

"all you needed was this" Mama whispered.

"proper mamas girl" mummy said.

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libraryofgage · 6 months

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A Place Like Steve in a Boy Like This

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One (you're here!)

The Mummy (1999) is one my comfort movies, actually, and I realized Rick and Steve are very alike actually. It's the looks, it's the hair, it's the loyalty and devotion.

Anyway, here's an AU where Rick and Evelyn O'Connell are Steve's parents lol

If there are any other people you think would make good parents for Steve, let me know! I'll take them into consideration and see if inspiration sparks :D

Anyway, if you'd like a tag on any future parts, let me know!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P

-----

After being relegated to the open-air portion of some ruins in Crete, Steve entertains himself by slowly moving closer to the cats nearby in the hopes of petting them. His parents said he couldn't go into the ruins, but they didn't say a thing about playing with the ruins' inhabitants. Said inhabitants are gathered in a circle, some standing and some stretching out in the sun, but sticking together as though they're waiting for someone to begin a discussion.

He takes a piece of jerky from his bag, tearing it into small pieces as he peeks around the corner of a column. A few large stones are scattered around it, nearly reaching his shoulders and helping to hide him from the view of the cats on the other side. Though, in all honesty, they're probably only sticking around because they smell the jerky in his hand.

Steve grins and tosses a piece of meat over the stones, watching as it lands in the middle of what he's dubbed the Cat Council. A calico cat jolts, ears perked as she stares at the meat before taking a tentative step forward. She sniffs the meat, decides it's an acceptable offering, and eats it.

When it's gone, Steve tosses more pieces. He feeds a few more of the cats now, and he's practically buzzing with excitement. Deciding they're less likely to scatter, Steve clambers onto the huge boulder in front of him, managing to find little footholds to boost himself up. With a grunt, he makes it to the top and looks down on the Cat Council, ready to throw the last of his jerky when he hears the stone beneath him shift.

In the time it takes to blink, the ground crumbles beneath the rock, scattering the cats and dropping the stone out from under Steve. He falls with it, momentarily and terrifyingly weightless before gravity takes over and he drops. A yelp escapes him, followed by a pained cry as he lands feet-first on the rock, his ankles taking the brunt of the impact and, if not breaking, severely spraining for the effort.

Grit, dirt, and dust coat Steve's tongue and throat, and he coughs up as much as he can while taking in his new surroundings. Thankfully, sunlight filters into the underground space, allowing him to see the tiled floors and walls covered in a carefully carved and painted frieze that has, somehow, survived the centuries since its creation. Several figures wearing togas and carrying baskets line up outside a darkened arch. They don't exactly look happy to be there, but they seem resigned to their fate. Steve can even see the tears meticulously carved into several faces.

When he follows the frieze, he realizes the space he's in is really a hallway, one that seems to stretch forever on either side of him. Amazingly, there's no other sign of aging in it. No spiderwebs crowding the walls, no erosion from wind or water damage, and no sign of people having walked the passageway in centuries. It's the kind of perfectly preserved discovery Steve and his mother lose their heads over while his father waits for something to go wrong.

Steve is about to try standing (if he can stay upright, maybe he can explore a little and find something to show his mother before they realize he's gone missing) when he hears...a snort? Maybe it's more like a heavy puff of air. He tilts his head, twisting around to squint down the corridor to his right. Something glints in the darkness, close to what he assumes is the ceiling, and Steve grabs his flashlight.

He clicks it on, aiming the beam at the ground and slowly moving it down the corridor. He stops when the light shines on cloven hooves, a bad feeling beginning to build in his chest. With a now somewhat shaking hand, Steve slowly raises the beam, that bad feeling growing as it shines over furry hind legs and a furry waist that seamlessly blends into scarred skin just below the navel. Despite everything, he keeps going, only confirming his worst fears when his flashlight finally reaches the top to find the head of a bull staring straight at him, the horns cracked and nearly scraping the ceiling, the black eyes undeniably trained on Steve, and a glimmering golden ring looped through its nose, as untarnished by time as the friezes.

For ten seconds (Steve counts while trying to control his panic), he and the minotaur stare at each other. Then, it puffs out air again, the force strong enough to sway the ring in its nose. Steve grips the flashlight tighter, swallowing around the wariness threatening to choke him and briefly wondering if, maybe, centuries have somehow soothed the minotaur's anger.

And then it roars, deep and loud and powerful enough to shake the corridor and bring more dust and grit raining down on Steve from above. It lowers its head, aiming its horns straight at Steve, and charges with all the fury of a creature that's been denied centuries' worth of sacrifices.

Steve screams as the minotaur's hooves shake the ground with each step, too scared to do anything more than sit there and wonder if there will be enough of his body for his parents to identify when the minotaur is done with him.

He's just about accepted the answer (it's no; the answer is no) when something grabs the back of his shirt and yanks him up just before the minotaur crashes into the boulder. Strong arms wrap around Steve, holding him close as his father's familiar voice says, "I gotcha!"

Steve blinks, his heart still hammering as he clings to his father's neck and looks at his mother over his shoulder. She's staring at the hole, a frown on her face as the minotaur's enraged roar sounds from below. "Rick, I think we should go now," she says, grabbing the back of Rick's shirt and yanking him back just in time to avoid the minotaur's giant hand slamming into the ground next to the hole.

"Great idea, Evie," Steve's father says, his voice a little strained as he passes Steve over and pulls out a gun. "I'll cover you. Get Steve to the car, get it running, and I'll meet you there." The minotaur screams again, and Steve is still close enough to see it realize it can climb the stone to reach the surface.

"You have three minutes, or I'm coming back for you."

Rick looks over his shoulder, flashing a grin at Steve and his mother. "I'll be right behind you," he promises.

And he was. With a minotaur right on his heels and another week added to their time in Crete while they tried to get the whole situation straightened out without too many casualties or Steve's uncle Jonathan ruining more than one good pair of trousers.

-----

Steve doesn't think he'll grow used to the smell and sounds of the hospital. The antiseptic, sterile atmosphere isn't too bad, but the constant background noise has the potential to drive him up the walls. It helps that he, Eddie, and Max were finally moved to a room together, mostly muffling the beeps and PA announcements with each other's chatter, snoring, and other noises.

Right now, everything is drowned out by the kids arguing with Eddie about their next campaign. Eddie wants to do a sequel of their current one while they've been gunning for something sci-fi-themed if Steve is understanding their debate correctly. He's not sure why it's so important, but their voices are creating nice background noise, and Robin's rhythmic, habitual tapping of her fingers on his arm grounds him, so he lets his mind wander.

Honestly, Steve thinks they'd all benefit from a nice trip somewhere. Maybe Paris. They can't possibly run into anything in Paris, right?

Well. The catacombs do exist, and nobody knows what's down there. So they'd have to stay well away.

But still. Paris. The food. The Louvre. The history. And, you know, maybe they could just pop into the catacombs just so Steve can take pictures and show his mother later. Following a strictly regulated guided tour should be perfectly fine.

Steve drops his head back against the pillow, wincing slightly when the action tugs at the stitches along his throat. They hurt, but his worst injuries are on his sides where the demobats bit and feasted. The doctor said they'd scar permanently, looking somewhat apologetic about the fact until Steve waved her off. What's a few more for the collection?

Besides, at the time the doctor was giving him a rundown of his injuries, another had been doing the same for Eddie. His list was pretty similar to Steve's, and it only took him a few seconds to realize something very important: if Steve hadn't been there to share the demobat burden, Eddie would be dead.

That fact had sat with him for a while. Death is no stranger to Steve. In fact, he's intimately familiar with the concept. And all the ways it can be subverted. Steve doesn't want to think he'd be the kind to pull out the Book of the Dead after everything his parents have told him, but he also knows he'd do anything for the people he loves. Like Eddie. Like Robin. Like the kids.

Steve has risked his life for them numerous times, and he'd do it again without a moment's hesitation.

"I can't believe we're only just finding out!"

This statement comes from the hallway on the other side of the room's closed door. The voice is achingly familiar to Steve, one he's only heard over the phone for the past few months, and he sits up straight. The conversation in the room falters for a few seconds before picking up again after the kids decide it's probably not relevant to them.

And then comes hurried, angry footsteps outside the door and a doctor's voice saying, "I'm sorry, but only authorized visitors are allowed to see patients."

"I wouldn't stay in her way," a man's voice says, his tone teetering between amused and genuinely sympathetic toward the doctor.

Apparently, he doesn't heed the warning, and the room is silent enough that everyone hears the following tirade. "Authorized visitors? Authorized visitors?! Are you stopping me from seeing my son? Who on earth do you think you are? If you don't get out of the way, I will make you move, mister."

"I wonder when she'll realize she's got the wrong room," Dustin says, sounding amused.

"Ma'am, I ca--," the doctor's words are cut off by a sudden yelp and the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the floor outside.

The door is thrown up to show a woman, her shoulders heaving and her curly hair in disarray. She's covered in grime like she dragged herself out of a grave and came right away without stopping to clean up. Which, honestly, might be the case. Behind her is a similarly disheveled man, a fond smile on his face as he looks at the woman. "That's my girl," he says, the smile becoming a full-blown grin when the woman smacks his chest without turning around.

The sight is so familiar that Steve nearly tears up. He hasn't seen his parents in months, and their appearance suddenly lifts a weight that he didn't even realize was on his shoulders. Whatever else happens, they'll take care of it.

Finally, Evelyn's eyes land on Steve, and the anger on her face melts away into relief and worry. She rushes over, sliding around Robin before she can move, and cups Steve's face in her hands. "Oh, my poor boy, are you okay? What have the doctors said?" she asks.

Steve's father hovers behind her, giving Steve a once-over with his eyes before determining he's fine. "Better question," he says, placing a hand on Evelyn's shoulder and leaning closer, "Where in the hell were your guns?"

Steve is about to answer when his mother whirls on Rick. "His guns? Our son is in a hospital bed, and you're asking where his guns were?! Are you daft? Have you lost your mind?" she asks, poking her finger into his chest.

He sighs, takes her hand, and wraps his other arm around her waist. "Evie, he's fine. He's awake, and nobody in here looks like they're preparing for a funeral. Clearly, he's gonna be discharged soon. So, I think asking where his guns were is reasonable because maybe he wouldn't be in a hospital bed if he'd had them."

"Dad is right," Steve says, getting his parents' attention. He grins at them. "I'm fine. Doctors said it would just be another scar. Or, well, like three more scars. Doesn't matter. I should get discharged later this week."

Before Evelyn or Rick can say anything else, Dustin asks, "What the fuck is going on here?!"

"Language!" Steve shouts, turning his head to glare at Dustin.

"Did you seriously just call him out on language?" Rick asks. "You?"

"His mom gets upset when he swears, so I've been trying to set a good example," Steve mumbles, slumping down in his bed. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Everybody, these are my parents. Evelyn and Rick O'Connell. Parents, this is, well, everybody."

"Oh, let me see if I can name them," Evelyn says, her eyes lighting up some at the challenge before pulling away from Rick. She points to each child as she correctly names them. "I already know Robin. So nice to see you again dear--"

"Nice to see you, too, Mrs. O'Connell."

"--Now, you must be Dustin. I've heard plenty about you, young man. And based on the haircut, you're Will. You've got to be Mike, and you two are Lucas and Erica. This must be El, and you're Max, right? I'm sure you'll get better soon, dear." When Evelyn turns and sees Eddie, she gets a softer smile. "And you're Eddie. I've heard quite a bit about you, too. All good, I promise. It's so nice to finally meet you."

"Wait," Lucas says, frowning slightly in confusion, "Eddie and Steve have only known each other for, like, a week?"

Everyone looks at Steve, and he shrugs in response. "Eddie was pretty impossible to ignore in high school," he says, brushing off the questioning looks until only Robin and Eddie are left staring, the former with a knowing glint in her eye and the latter with a confused one in his.

"Sorry, I still can't get over Steve having parents," Mike says, his nose scrunched up like this entire thing might be some hallucination.

"Did you think he was an orphan?" Robin asks, shooting him a similar scrunched-nose look.

"I don't know! He's never talked about them! I thought his parents were, like, absent assholes or something," Mike says, his shoulders raising defensively.

"That's our fault, I'm afraid," Evelyn says, smiling apologetically as she moves to stand by Steve again. She places a hand on his head, gently carding her fingers through his hair. The motion is familiar and reassuring, and Steve leans into the touch, unaware of Eddie staring at his mom's hand.

"Our work is pretty, uh, need-to-know," Rick says, shrugging as he reaches behind Evelyn and places a hand on Steve's shoulder. "As in, nobody needs to know."

Steve is nodding in agreement when more footsteps sound from the hallway and his uncle slides into the doorway, nearly tripping on his own feet. He clears his throat, adjusts his jacket, and looks up to find a whole room staring at him.

He blinks and tugs on his collar, shifting his gaze to Evelyn and Rick. "Well, after you lot ran off, I got us visitor passes," he says, holding up three stickers.

"You stole them," Steve and Rick say, their voices in synch and nearly indistinguishable.

To his credit, Jonathan doesn't question it. He just scoffs, walking into the room and slapping a sticker on Rick's chest. "I am offended. How could you possibly think I stole them?" he asks.

"Should I remind you how we met?" Rick asks, raising an eyebrow at Jonathan.

"Fair enough. Carry on," Jonathan says, looking away and moving to Steve's side. "Good to see you, old boy. Glad you aren't dead, and sorry it took so long to get your parents here. It's not easy making phone calls to the Amazon Rainforest."

Steve shrugs. "I figured," he says, watching as Evelyn pulls her hand from his hair to place the visitor sticker on her chest.

There are going to be endless questions later. The kids are definitely going to try to grill Evelyn and Rick about their work and about Steve as a child. But there's plenty of time for that later.

For now, Steve is happy to just relax and let his parents take over. He doesn't have to be the responsible one anymore, and he can finally breathe with that weight off his shoulders.

----

Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@badgerburrows

#steddie #steddie fic #the mummy 1999 crossover #steve harrington #rick o'connell #evelyn o'connell #jonathan carnahan #eddie munson #the party #future steddie #here for a good time not a long time #that's the vibe with these crossovers btw #just enjoy the chaos lol

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blingblong55 · 4 months

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Christmas Kids-Simon "Ghost" Riley

Not a request but this idea is inspired by @suimon 's post ---- GN!Reader, platonic!relationship, fluff, comfort?, childhood best friend!Simon, civilian!reader ---- also this specific verse from christmas kids you'll change your name or change your mind / and leave this fucked up place behind / but i'll know, i'll know is SOOOOOOO childhood friends with simon coded. especially when you see him again after years and years thinking he died with his family

A/N: Simon is 35 in this and you're 34...and it might be slightly different from this idea

It's been twelve years since you last saw Simon. Two teens, Manchester and some booze. That is the last thing and place you remember from that night.

You and him met because of your mums, they went to the same schools and so did Simon and you. It was like a movie, two best friends who have known each other since birth. Now all you have of him is a faint memory. He and his family died when you were around 22. It was the news of the city.

"Mum, please tell me this is a lie," you cry and all she does is give you that look. "I'm sorry, love." The tears, the ache in the chest, it's all engraved in you.

A knock on the door at two in the morning.

"Never open the door to strangers," Simon reminds you. "But how will I know it's you?" He chuckles, "I'll use our whistle," he simply says and you nod.

A knock and a whistle at two in the morning. You go pale. No, it can't be, he– he died, he's been dead for so long. Stupid nightmare, get me out of here.

Another whistle, waiting for your response.

You whistle back and get close to the door. You can feel the presence. It's there. He's there. That kid you ran the street with, the guy who took you home after one too many drinks. The stupid jokes and the constant lessons of life. "Simon?"

"Please open, it's cold," his voice hoarse and once that door opens, a flood of memories comes through.

His face is bruised, clothes are torn, blood is on them and the faint smell of his cologne is there. The rain filled the silence of the night. Police cars are in the background and he smiles at you. Once he stepped inside, it was a new man who did it, not your Simon. this man was taller, broader, he had tattoos and well...all that blood and those bags under his eyes.

"You–you were dead, they...they recovered your body and–"

"I faked my death," he was breathless and you guided him to the stool of the kitchen.

When your mum passed away, you were 27, that is when you needed him the most. Who else to give you a shit joke if not him? And now seven years later and here you are, waiting for a shit joke.

"Your dad–"

"I know." he cuts you off. He needs no mention of that man, not ever.

"If you faked your death then, does this mean they are all still alive?"

"No, I couldn't save them," he breaks down, finally.

All this time, he played Ghost. The man, the myth and a persona that everyone saw as a tough and cold man. When he is here, in your presence, he is that 23-year-old who saw his family dead. He is the same man who cried to you. You were home to this soldier, the last home he had. You hug him and in that second, he turns into a child in need of his mummy and need of desperate comfort. For years he has been running away from the past, of that night and you.

To be in the presence of the man he is, that is fear but to be in the home of the one person who knows who he is past the mask, is a nightmare.

"I don't want to!" Simon cried to his father as he got the snake closer to him.

"Dad, stop this isn't right." The same night when he was told to laugh at a woman who had passed out on the floor.

But, you know what they say, Dead will follow, Dead won't leave, Dead won't rise, Dead and Gone all this except Simon Riley, he stays like the ghost he is. Now, he is a man who let all of his terrors catch up to him and as they haunt his head, he clings to you.

In his head, his life flashes. From laughing with Tommy, getting scared by a skull mask, running in the streets with you, leaving Manchester, joining the military, the SAS, getting SA'D, hanging by his rib, crawling from a tomb, having dead friends, having a dead family, Task Force 141 and losing himself to Makarov and now, here he is, crying in a kitchen. If only his father would see him, he'd know his son is nothing but a bastard and a coward.

"Simon?" Your voice breaks his trance and he looks up. "I'm lost, I don't know who I am anymore," he cries and in that instant, you see him. You see his past and the present. A frown forms on your lips, "What did they do to you?" your hands holding his face and all he can do is lean into that touch. "I'm dead, I'm nothing but a senseless killer," was the description he gave himself.

In the world of Simon Joseph Riley, he was nothing but a cold-blooded killer, an apparition of his old self who was only meant to kill.

As the night became morning, he said it all. From when he left to how he found himself at your door. Your heart broke more and more, he was the shell of a man. Nothing but a life of misery left in that stare he gives you. Simon knows he has nothing left for him. You on the other hand are the hidden treasure he left for when needed.

His whole life– well, ever since the death of his family, he's been running away from the shadows and now he's running away from the military. With his captain being called a general killer, his friend Soap dead, and his friend Gaz lost, you are the last thing a man like him has. Tucked in a corner, the faint of the memory, that is what he has.

"Please don't turn me in, they'll hurt me again," he cries. Those tears are not just from his current exhaustion, but from all the years he denied the feeling of regret and sadness. Sure he was forced to go to a therapist but after the first one was killed, who else could he trust?

"I'm scared, I'm so scared," he confesses and for the first time in his life, he does feel fear. He saw the shadow of fear when Soap was nearly caught and possibly killed by Shadow Company but he knows fear when all he has is you and the blood that drips from his wounds. "Simon-"

"I miss them, I miss them all, I missed you and I miss being normal," he cups your face and looks deep into your eyes. "Help me, please...I- I need to find myself again." Suddenly he was back at the park you two grew up in.

"R/N!" His eyes with tears. His father must've scared him again, you thought. "Over here, Simon!" you wave your hand and you see him sigh in relief as he runs to you. His arms wrap around you as he once more confesses how his father hurt him.

"Let's fix you up and maybe we'll head to the park," you suggest and he nods desperately. "Please, yes, let's do that."

Now, three weeks later, you find yourself hiding him from the world. Task Force 141 was deemed as a danger to others.

Simon Joseph "Ghost" Riley, is no longer a danger to himself or others. He stares at the moon as he looks out the window, your cat on his lap, purring because they both found comfort in each other. He knows he lived through it, to get to this moment and he'll do anything to finally call a place home.

A/N: Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers also inspired me, you can tell...

Tags: @fake-id-69 @stick-the-dumbass @uraritychain @aalxrose @prettyoatmeal @elowynnlane @infpt-zylith @dakaraissoisso @homicidal-slvt @honestlyhiswife @madsdawson @joyfulmarvelofavengers @qxclamation @nunezr29 @scoobysnakz @iruzias @vampsquerade @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @saoirse06 @ikohniik @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @nobodys-coffee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely

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chelseachilly · 6 months

Text

do you want to build a snowman?

pairing: reader x ben chilwell request: "ok so you and ben have a daughter around 3 or 4 and its her first time seeing snow so they take her outside to build a snowman :)" - anonymous warnings: fluffff, dad!ben word count: 2k

author’s note: thanks for all the requests!! i'm really getting in the flow of writing rn (and inspired by the holidays) so i'm going to do my best to write as many of them as i can! ❄️

“Is Daddy gonna be home soon?”

It’s not the first - or the second, or the fifth - time your daughter has asked this question since she woke up this morning.

Ben left for training shortly before 8, and neither you nor your daughter Sophie were awake yet. You could’ve happily slept a few more hours, but Sophie woke you up not long after to excitedly announce that it had snowed overnight.

In her four years of life, your daughter has never seen a significant amount of snow, at least that she can recall. It snowed quite a bit on her first Christmas, but she was far too little to remember that, and since then there’s been nothing but a few flurries here and there or a light dusting on the rooftops.

She’s quite fascinated by the concept from watching movies and TV shows featuring winter activities and is currently deep in a Frozen phase, which means she’s obsessed with the idea of building a snowman.

Over the past month as the weather got colder, you and Ben had tried to keep her expectations low as you weren’t sure you would get enough snow to make this dream a reality. You could tell it was killing Ben to disappoint her - he hates denying his little girl anything - and a few nights ago you caught him looking into booking a holiday to Switzerland or Finland or anywhere she would be guaranteed some snow.

Thankfully, today her prayers were answered, and you were fully prepared to bundle up and go outside with her before you even had your coffee, but she insisted on waiting for Ben. It was their plan to build the snowman together, Sophie told you, and she stuck to her decision even when you reminded her he wouldn’t be home for hours.

It‘s been pretty adorable watching her anxiously await her dad’s return all morning, pacing around the house and checking for his car in the driveway often. You can tell how badly she wants to go out and play in the glistening white snow, and the remarkable restraint she’s showing is a testament to how much of a daddy’s girl she is.

“Not too much longer, sweetheart,” you assure her as you beckon her to come cuddle with you on the couch where you’re doing a bit of work on your laptop. “He texted a while ago and said he’ll be here as soon as he can.”

“Alright,” Sophie sighs. “Can you put on Frozen?”

You’ve watched this movie more times than you can count lately, and once already today, but you remind yourself that you signed up for this when you chose to be a parent as you’re queuing up Disney Plus once again.

Later, when you’re nearing the end of the film and you’ve given up on doing any more work as long as your daughter is screaming the lyrics to each song, you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing.

“Daddy!”

The movie is quickly abandoned as Sophie darts toward the foyer to greet Ben. You’re not too far behind her, though by the time you reach them she’s already in her dad’s arms.

“Daddy, it snowed!” Sophie exclaims, her little arms wrapped around Ben’s neck. “We have to build a snowman!”

“I know, darling,” Ben laughs, giving Sophie another squeeze before gently setting her down. “Why don’t you go get your coat on while I say hello to Mummy?”

Sophie nods and eagerly runs toward the closet to fetch her winter coat. As Ben drops his bag and makes his way over to you, you can see how tired he is from training. When he cups your face to give you a kiss, you can tell he’s also freezing.

“How was training, baby?” you murmur, placing your hands on his to warm them up.

“Cold,” Ben sighs. “Forgot how brutal it is training in the snow. I’m glad the gaffer let us go home early, though.”

“You and me both,” you smile, leaning in to kiss him again. “Maybe you should warm up a bit before going out to play with Soph?”

“No, she’s been waiting for me all day,” Ben says. “I’ll be fine.”

You know there’s no changing his mind, especially when Sophie comes running back into the room in her adorable little puffer jacket that nearly swallows her whole. You help her zip it up and grab mittens, a scarf and a hat to keep her warm, as well as some for you and Ben.

Once you’re all ready to face the cold, you head out to the garden together. You and Ben have matching grins on your faces as you watch Sophie excitedly run through the snow for the first time, a core childhood memory being created right before your eyes.

She gets to work right away on her snowman, rolling the snowball she’s formed as long as she can before it gets too heavy for her and she has to accept Ben’s help.

You join in on their efforts, occasionally taking a break to take some photos of your daughter and husband that you already know are going to be your new phone background.

After some hard work - certainly for a four year old - the snowman is completed with a carrot nose and hat that you had prepared just for this occasion.

“He looks great, Sophie!” you exclaim. “What’s his name? Olaf?”

Despite it being a fairly safe guess, Sophie looks at you like you have two heads.

“No, Mummy, Olaf doesn’t have a hat,” she reminds you very matter-of-factly. “His name is Tom.”

“Like Uncle Tom?” Ben chuckles, referring to his best friend and her godfather.

Sophie seems to contemplate this for a moment before shaking her head.

“No, because I want him to be Tom.”

You and Ben look at each other for a moment before bursting out into laughter. You both blame your daughter’s stubbornness on each other, though deep down you know it’s from both of you, but at times like this it’s both hilarious and adorable.

“Fair enough, sweetie,” you say, bending down to give her a kiss on the forehead. “Now, I think some hot chocolate is in order. Ready to go in?”

“No, we have to make snow angels!”

Of course, this was another activity she had seen in films that she was dying to try for herself.

“Alright,” you chuckle. “Why don’t we make snow angels while Daddy goes and warms up? He’s been out in the snow all day.”

The pout on Sophie’s face quickly tells you that she is not happy with this plan, and Ben swoops in before you can say anything else.

“I think I have a few snow angels left in me,” he smiles, picking Sophie up and balancing her on his hip. “Babe, can you start the hot chocolate while we finish up here?”

You raise an eyebrow at your husband but accept his proposal nonetheless, placing a quick kiss on both his and Sophie’s cheeks before heading inside.

As you’re warming up the milk on the stovetop, you look out the window where Ben and Sophie are still playing, her excited giggles loud enough that you can hear her through the windowpane.

Your heart is threatening to burst from the sweet scene, overflowing with love for your daughter and admiration for your amazing husband. No matter how tired he is from training, if he’s upset about a loss or injured or anything else, he always steps up for Sophie. You’ve known since you met him that he would be a great dad, but ever since you became parents, he’s continued to exceed your expectations.

Just as you’re pouring three steaming mugs of hot chocolate, you hear your family come in through the back door and begin to strip off their winter gear.

To your delight, Sophie runs straight into the kitchen and hugs you tightly.

“I made five snow angels!” she exclaims as you run your hand up and down her back in an effort to warm her up. “Daddy made some big ones, too.”

“That’s amazing, love,” you smile, kissing her head. “You want some hot chocolate?”

“Yes! Can I put the marshmallows in?”

“Of course,” you say, lifting her up onto the counter and passing her the bag of mini marshmallows.

As much as she’s a daddy’s girl at heart, you also get your fair share of moments when your daughter seems to only want her mother. You know how special her bond is with Ben, and you really can’t blame her for how much she loves spending time with him, but you still cherish the little things that just for the two of you - making hot chocolate with extra marshmallows being one of them.

You carry the tray of drinks into the living room with Sophie trailing behind, and find Ben already there getting the fireplace going and arranging some pillows and blankets.

“This looks cozy,” you smile, setting the drinks down and sitting on the floor across from him, Sophie following your lead. “Thanks, honey.”

“Thanks for making the hot chocolate, my loves,” Ben responds, glancing over at the tray that holds two regular Christmas mugs and one with the Frozen characters on it. He picks that one up and pretends to take a sip. “I assume this one is mine?”

“No, Daddy, that’s mine!” Sophie squeals, making both you and Ben laugh as he carefully passes it back to her.

You all sip your drinks in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of the sweet beverages and the burning fire.

“So, did you enjoy your first snow, Soph?” Ben asks. “Was it everything you hoped?”

“It was amazing!” Sophie confirms. “Thank you for playing, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome, angel,” Ben says with a soft smile as Sophie climbs into his lap and he kisses her rosy cheeks.

It’s not long before she drifts off to sleep, tuckered out from playing in the snow and comforted by her dad’s embrace and the sound of you and Ben quietly talking about your days.

Once she’s fully passed out, Ben carefully shifts her tiny frame over in his arms to make room for you on his other side and beckons you over. With him laying back against the sofa and you now laying against his chest, both of you watching your daughter sleep peacefully, you’re not sure you’ve ever felt more content.

“That little girl absolutely adores you,” you comment, nuzzling further into Ben’s warmth.

“She must get that from her mum, then,” Ben jokes, making you roll your eyes for a moment before kissing his jaw, then his cheek.

“Mhm,” you nod, smiling as you reach his lips and kiss him slowly.

When you pull back, Ben gazes lovingly at you for a moment before his eyes return to Sophie, her little hand curling around the material of his hoodie in her sleep.

“Babe?” Ben murmurs, and you nod again. “How would you feel about trying for another one?”

It takes everything in you not to betray yourself with a grin as you think about the tiny Christmas onesie and pregnancy test you boxed up and placed under the tree yesterday while Ben was picking Sophie up from daycare.

It’s less than a week until Christmas - you can make it that long.

“Let’s talk about it after the holidays?” you say for now, pressing another kiss to Ben’s lips.

He nods with a smile, though you can see his mind wandering with thoughts of another little one to play in the snow and curl up by the fire and watching the same movies over and over with.

It’s been the greatest joy of your life raising Sophie side by side with him, and you absolutely can’t wait to do it all again.

#ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell x y/n #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell #first time writing dad!ben!! and also first time making a graphic dont laugh at how bad it lmaooo

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artycomicfangirl · 10 months

Text

So remember the Daisy and Luigi minicomic I started a while ago? Well, I got major sidetracked, because I was actually experimenting a possible SMB Movie idea!

So context! As a future Empress, the young Princess has to be knowledgeable of every culture that is within her empire.

So as part of her training from youth (and to form friendships and alliances with her people), I thought about the idea of Daisy having to visit each Kingdom in Sarasaland.

Each Kingdom’s Leaders are:

• Toto, the Sphinx King.

• Zama, The Dragon King

• Hio, The Stone King

• Kinto, the Sky King.

Daisy of course thinks of them like her family. But maybe out of all of them, she might be a bit closer to King Toto, since he might have been the first person she met when she was only a Baby.

Reason why I decided to make her have a close relationship with her people, and with the leaders be like mentors to her, is because I have headcanon plots that involve Tatanga.

When the The alien would come down to invade with his forces, the four Sarasaland Leaders chose to put their lives on the line to make sure that Daisy would be able to escape. Seeing that she would be Sarasaland’s hope to be saved from a bleak future.

With Daisy being close to them, might make her time to develop on fighting on her own?

Unlike Peach, Her training style may have been a bit more tougher. More rough around the edges and combat focused. Techniques that probably allowed her to utilize a strength of that of a strong soldier. Quick reflexes, efficiency in handling weapons during combat.

Which as she grew up, might be something like this. My own take of Daisy, wearing some traditional Birabuto kingdom attire?

I was actually watching the 1999 film ‘The Mummy’, and was inspired by Evelyn Carnahan! The idea of an Egyptian Princess who can fight always was such a fascinating idea to me!

#fanart #digital art #artists on tumblr #art #nintendo #super mario #the super mario bros movie #princess daisy #daisy #Princess daisy art

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will80sbyers · 17 days

Note

Do you still have the list of movies that inspired ST4? I had a picture of it but I lost it and I haven't been able to find it since. Please and thank you in advance.

Yep!

Long post warning lol

300

2001: A Space Odyssey

47 Meters Down: Uncaged

12 Monkeys

28 Days Later

13th Warrior

Ace Ventura: Pet Detective

Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls

Altered States

Amelie

American Sniper

Analyze This

Annihilation

Aristocats

Armageddon

Assassins Creed

Avengers: Age of Ultron

Arrival

Almost Famous

Batman Begins

Batman V. Superman

Basket Case

Battle at Big Rock

Beauty and the Beast

Beetlejuice

Behind Enemy Lines

Beverly Hills Cop

Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey

Billy Madison

Black Cauldron

Black Swan

Boondock Saints

Borat

Bram Stoker’s Dracula

Burn After Reading

Broken Arrow

Blade Runner

C.H.U.D

Con Air

Cast Away

Congo

Constantine

Children of Men

Cabin in the Woods

Crank

Casablanca

Carrie

Crimson Tide

Clueless

Dukes of Hazzard

Don’t Breathe

Death to Smoochy

Doom

Dark Knight

Dogma

Deep Blue Sea

Dreamcatcher

Drop Dead Fred

Die Hard

Die Hard 2

Die Hard 3

Don’s Plum

Dances with Wolves

Dumb and Dumber

Edward Scissorhands

Enter the Void

Ex Machina

Event Horizon

Emma (2020)

Forrest Gump

Fargo

Fisher King

Full Metal Jacket

Ferris Bueller

Fallen

Fugitive

Ghost

Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Ghostbusters

Good Fellas

Girl Interrupted

Godzilla: King of the Monsters

Get Out

Good Will Hunting

Hackers

High Fidelity

Hellraiser 1

Hellraiser 2

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Hidden

High School Musical

Hurt Locker

Heat

Hunger Games

Highlander

Hell or High Water

Home Alone

I am Legend

It’s a Wonderful Life

In Cold Blood

Inception

I am a Fugitive from Chain Gang

Inside Out

Island of Doctor Moreau

It Follows

Interview with a Vampire

Inner Space

Into the Spiderverse

Independence Day

Jupiter Ascending

John Carter of Mars

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom

James Bond (All Movies)

Julie

Karate Kid

Knives Out

Kingsmen

Little Miss Sunshine

Labyrinth

Long Kiss Goodnight

Lost Boys

Leon: The Professional

Let the Right One In

Little Women (1994)

Mad Max: Fury Road

Magnolia

Men in Black

Mimic

Matrix

Misery

My Cousin Vinny

Mystic River

Minority Report

Mr. and Mrs. Smith

Neverending Story

Never Been Kissed

No Country for Old Men

Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors

North by Northwest

Open Water

Orange County

Oceans 8

Oceans 11

Oceans 12

One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest

Ordinary People

Paddington 2

Platoon

Pulp Fiction

Papillon

Pan’s Labyrinth

Pineapple Express

Peter Pan

Princess Bride

Paradise Lost

Primal Fear

Prisoners

Peter Jackson’s King Kong

Reservoir Dogs

Ravenous

Rushmore

Road Warrior

Rogue One

Reality Bites

Raider of the Lost Ark

Red Dragon

Robocop

Shooter

Sky High

Swingers

Sword in the Stone

Step Up 2

Spy Kids

Saving Private Ryan

Shape of Water

Swept Away

Star Wars: Return of the Jedi

Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back

Superbad

Society

Swordfish

Stoker

Splice

Silence of the Lambs

Source Code

Sicario

Se7en

Starship Troopers

Scrooged

Splash

Silver Bullet

Speed

The Visit

The Italian Job

The Mask of Zorro

True Lies

The Blair Witch Project

The Lord of the Rings Trilogy

Tangled

The Craft

The Guest

The Devil’s Advocate

The Graduate

The Prestige

The Rock

Titanic

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

The Fly

Tombstone

The Mummy

The Guardian

The Goofy Movie

The Peanut Butter Solution

Toy Story 4

The Ring

The Crazies

The Mist

The Revenant

The Perfect Storm

The Shining

Terminator 2

The Truman Show

Temple of Doom

The Cell

To Kill a Mockingbird

Timeline

The Good Son

The Orphan

The Birdcage

The Green Mile

The Raid

The Cider House Rules

The Lighthouse

The Book of Henry

The A-Team

The Crow

The Terminal

Thor Ragnarok

Twister

The Descent

The Birds

Total Recall

The Natural

The Fifth Element

True Romance

Terminator: Dark Fate

The Hobbit Trilogy

Unforgiven

Unbreakable

Unleashed

Very Bad Things

Wayne’s World

What Women Want

War Dogs

Wedding Crashers

What’s Eating Gilbert Grape

Welcome to the Dollhouse

Welcome to Marwen

Wet Hot American Summer

What Lies Beneath

What Dreams May Come

War Games

Who Framed Roger Rabbit

Weird Science

Willow

Wizard of Oz

Wanted

Young Sherlock Holmes

You’ve Got Mail

Zodiac

Zoolander

#stranger things #ask #st4 #st4 movies

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bogleech · 10 months

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well, you made a fighting roster for one of your favorite things, bugs, so why not do your second favorite? HALLOWEEN.....but you don't have to if you want.

I actually did that of my own accord with concept sketches once but it was two years ago so a lot of people haven't seen it.

It started when I made up a Darkstalkers fan character; a "scream queen" (type of horror movie actress in the 50's) and Bug Eyed Monster duo, with some more move ideas:

But then I decided to just make a dozen monster fighter characters of my own like it was its own distinct game and not Darkstalkers:

Mermaid who was partially eaten by people who thought it would make them immortal, instead it killed them because she was poisonous but she doesn't know that so her ghost is stuck on a revenge killing spree that can never be satisfied

Cartoon werewolf in a zoot suit and punk rock vampire with boombox coffin, I didn't come up with storyline for them, I just needed a werewolf and a vampire

Frankenstein's daughter who put her brain into her own monster in order to defend humanity against her dad's creations and other supernatural threats, I decided on this partly because I'm not really into superheroes but they're one of the top most common Halloween costumes so I tried to make a Halloweeny one that I'd like

Nurse who accidentally transfused herself with cursed mummy blood. I made this one because there's a picture I drew when I was real little of a bleeding mummy with the words "MUMMY BLOOD" on it that child-me thought was the scariest picture ever, and also because I love the (mostly Japanese) trope of medical themed mummies. Also based on the fact that "sexy nurses" are a top selling Halloween costume and then that easily ties into a Silent Hill reference. This all felt creepypasta-like so she's also like a slendersman

Old fashioned Halloween mascot pumpkin man with a vegetable ghost gang, actually the ultimate villain of the setting and a monster that eats children

"Bogeyman" fighter inspired by edgy 90's comic books, a ragdoll scarecrow grim reaper clown. She's a manifestation of the fears of children, but in the sense that she exists to destroy whatever threatens them so her main goal is to kill all other monsters and especially the pumpkin guy

Entire zombie outbreak as one fighter, represented by a cute little fungus mascot, but every fighting move is performed by zombies coming and going from the ground

shapeshifting space alien disguised as a generic housewife, the human disguise would animate like a doll being played with by invisible hands

Ideas for extra-weird, secret unlockable fighters:

Photorealistic giant insect

Vincent Price parody and all his moves are obvious special effects performed by a film crew in the background the whole time

Mysterious entity in a "morph suit" because that's become such a staple of Halloween costumes. Changes into all manner of colors and printed textures for different moves or is the token "mimic" character.

Completely normal middle aged office worker who was on his way to work when he was accidentally caught in the monster brawl, battles on the power of pure blind panic. The tournament put his name down as "I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE"

#art

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vvivaa · 7 months

Photo

I’ve been reading What the River Knows by @isabelwriter09 and I’ve having so much fun with it!! It’s a book inspired by The Mummy, which is one of my favorite movies, and as an Egyptian it’s been so fun read an accurate I’m description of Egypt and seeing locations and Arabic words I recognize. Add that slow burn/tension romance and you’ve got me, I am a simple woman 🤗

Find me elsewhere! http://www.beacons.ai/vvivaa

#myart

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k-marzolf · 8 days

Text

I’m gonna live forever—one;

title inspired by Irene Cara’s song Fame.

cw; hit man!Billy Russo, ADHD coded reader, kissing, a hint at Billy’s darker side, fem!reader.

summary; Billy is your neighbor that you’re enamored with, but what secrets is he hiding?

tagging; @terry2227 @kayhi808 @e-dubbc11 @bookloverfilmoholic @aoi-targaryen @firequeensposts @oops89 @thejanecampaign @littleblackcatinwonderland @zz-kennedy @fictional-hooman @cant-help-simping @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @danzer8705 @firexfate @rosaleenablack @idaofinfinity @russosafehaven @vaguekayla

&&&&&&

You see him with her in the drink aisle; she’s flirting as he grabs your favorite wine, and puts it in the cart. You feel the sting of jealousy; she’s beautiful.

She was like Snow White, or maybe some Twilight vampire, minus the sparkling. A Volturi member, ready to kill you for your blood. Or maybe—a fairy but ones with claws, and fangs. A human—you stop yourself as you go on yet another tangent.

You look down at yourself in your sweatpants and one of his PT shirts you’d swiped. You made a habit of stealing his clothes like a little gnome, they were comfortable. And they smelled like him. You casually make your way over, missing the way his eyes light up when he sees you.

You know your neighbor isn’t yours, but god you want him to be. Karen had seen him twirling you around in the hallway, with a glass of wine in your hands, somehow not spilling.

“I got the better wine.” He had husked in your ear, opening his apartment door.

“Are you sayin’ I have cheap wine, sir?” You had huffed.

He hummed, “‘I’m trying to catch a fairy.” He said, breath tickling your ear.

You had stumbled forward, nearly spilling the wine.

He laughed, “First day on your new legs, Ariel?” He said, helping you into the apartment.

“He’s an asshole, but a beautiful one, isn’t he?”

When you approach, the woman looks at you with disdain. But Billy wraps his arm around you, kissing your mouth, making your cheeks blaze, and eyebrows raise in surprise. “Hey, fairy.” He says, smiling at your wide eyed expression.

The woman curls her lip glaring at you, before she leaves the two of you. Not a vampire, then. He sighs once she’s gone. “What a pain in the ass. They only ever want my beauty. I’m a goddamn prize to them.” He admits in irritation.

“You could walk around with a bag over your head. Like Scarecrow. I’d dress up like Batman, too. You know, so you won’t be alone. Or a pumpkin like the headless horseman. We could put LED lights inside to give it the murder kitten vibe, and I could be Ichabod Crane, or—” You ramble, the train wreck gaining speed.

He cuts you off, kissing you mouth, tasting your iced coffee, and you make a surprised noise in the back of your throat.

He looks at you as he pulls back, and gives you a boyish grin, making butterflies erupt in your belly. “Wanna get some wine and snacks?” He asks you, pointing to the wine in the cart, enjoying your sweet smile.

“We could have a movie night, we could watch the Terminator, or Alien. Bloodthirsty aliens against a woman and her cat, I’m also not opposed to homicidal dinosaurs, or The Mummy, gets the ancient Egypt nerd in me happy—” You ramble.

Billy grins, cheeks dimpling. “Sounds good, fairy.”

You both agree no to rom-coms (you loathe those, something Karen never understood, “Romance and comedy, what could be better?” She asked you one time. “Criminal Minds. Serial killers and Spencer Reid,” you had deadpanned. Karen had blanched), so you and Billy decided to throw some movies in a bowl, and select one.

Forging relationships has always been difficult, due to you being so ditsy and a chatterbox.

Maybe with Billy, it doesn’t have to be.

“Young man?” An older lady stops Billy in his tracks as he moves to climb the stairs. Her hair is graying, and pulled up in a tight bun; she has laugh lines, and her eyes are warm.

“Yeah?” Billy asks, one foot on the step in front of him, body turned.

“Thank you for befriending her. I’ve always worried about how isolated she is. But she seems at ease with you. No one should be alone all the time.” She says, and Billy’s heart aches at the image of you alone with no one.

You peek from the top of the stairs, “Bill?” You say impatiently, giving him golden retriever energy.

“Comin’,” he says, turning back to the lady who shoos him up the stairs.

“What’d she want?” You ask, bouncing on the balls of your feet, noticing an outline of a knife in his combat boot.

Billy ruffles your hair distracting you, “Just worried about you.” He hums, kissing your cheek. “How about that movie night?”

You give him a sweet smile, giggling as he raced you down to the end of the hall where your shared apartment was, carrying chips and salsa.

He was going to steal your heart, you were sure of it.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader

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satashiiwrites · 2 years

Text

Snippet Sunday

Six No it’s SNIPPET Sunday because I can’t help myself.

Tagged by the lovely @radio-chatter. Tagging (unless they’ve already been tagged today) @quietborderline @imsupposedtobewritting @tkwritesdumbassassins @missanniewhimsy @outtoshatter and anyone else who wants to play along. No pressure as always, we’re just having fun.

Title: Death, Rebirth and the Jackal, Untitled Chapter VII: Scott’s POV

Fandom: Mass Effect Andromeda, The Mummy, snippets/ideas inspired by American Gods and Moon Knight

Pairing: Mredyer as always 🙃

Tags/warnings: first draft. Scott being impossibly dense (or not?).

Scott’s dream had changed last night after he’d struck the deal with the Krogan.

For so many years he’d had exactly the same dream and the slightest change was disorienting as well as mildly upsetting. There was still the call of the jackals over the sand but now instead of the sunrise being over the Nile he now stood on a cliff overlooking a canyon. As the sun touched the horizon an ancient city had materialized as if by magic as the sun’s rays hit stone, carving it into recognizable forms, sand sweeping away like fog.

The city was as if it had been abandoned yesterday, palms swaying in the morning breeze as they lined the stone road before him that led toward the center of the city, the columns of the temples soaring into the air to greet the sun as it rose higher and higher, watch fires lit upon the city walls. The gates had inscriptions etched into them that were as familiar as his own name.

Hamunaptra, City of the Dead. Beware all who enters the gates of Anubis.

The Jackal God’s statue rising high from the center of the city, visible from Scott’s perch above the road below.

He blinked and his perspective changed.

Somehow he’d moved so he was standing atop the ramparts but he was not alone.

The familiar toned body wrapped around him from behind warming him against the cool of the morning air, a strong arm encircling his waist as an unshaven cheek brushed against his making his eyes slide closed as he relaxed into the embrace. “My Scott,” the voice whispered lowly with that taunting accent that he just couldn’t place after he awoke—both familiar and yet strange. “My golden wolf of the desert.”

A name was on the tip of his tongue. A name that mean safety and peace. A name that made him think of long limbs entwined with his, bodies melting into one another as they twisted in the bedclothes with the scent of cypress oil and male musk heavy in the air from their coupling.

He’d awoken aroused and unfulfilled as always. A few strokes was all it took and he was shuddering through an orgasm, hands clenching the bed frame so they wouldn’t go searching for his missing bedmate.

Why was he plagued by these never ending dreams? Why did he have no interest in anyone else other than his dream lover who he’d pasted on the vague semblance of the prisoner—Vidal—for lack of any other reference?

It wasn’t like Vidal was really like his dream lover. His dream lover was well groomed and had only a five o’clock shadow on his cheeks to tease him with compared to Vidal’s unkempt beard that looked like it could have a rat nest in it not to mention his unruly and oily long hair.

Scott let himself have only a minute or so of self-pity as he caught his breath before making himself get up for the day.

Vidal wasn’t his dream man—he was just a new and convenient face to picture instead of carefully avoiding picturing anyone else

#death rebirth and the jackal #mredyer #renamed snippet sunday #six sentence sunday #Not a Mummy Movies Fusion but heavily inspired by them #alternative universe #first draft #scott ryder #borrowed egyptian gods

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