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the-s1lly-corner · 7 months

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WOoOoOoO SPOOKY SEASON REQUIRES SPOOKY STUFF

Anyways

I would love to request an Child ghost!reader and the gang, basically child reader got murdered when they were using the VR and their soul got stuck into the game.

Their soul being so GORY AND DISTORTED, like an arm is missing, one eye is like hanging out and their head has an hole. Reader can get invisible like a ghost and move things with only their mind, and they are very quiet and just observes, rarely get mad or anything, but when they snap (for example: Because of jax's pranks) they start throwing things around dim the lights and scream, and lets put like, Reader's screams are like LOUD as hell, basically like an ghost tantrum.

So basically Child reader is just an sad messed up lil goof who needs comfort and therapy.

Sorry if its long, i love love love your blog btw!

-🌹

TADC cast x ghost!child!reader (platonic + light found family) !

going to take a different approach to writing this one, since i feel bad about being selective of cast/multi characters today, so! rather than having divided segments like usual, its going to be a group thing! hope thats alright! going to be the last request of this batch them imma make something to eat rq for dinner then get back to writing YAHOO!

when you joined the digital circus, you were already very obviously different from the rest of the gang. even if your gore was toned down thanks to your body being digitized; the programming seemed to struggle with altering your body into something unique... strange... it also seems your body is fighting back against the programming of the world, seemingly trying to restore itself. The effect makes you almost look like you're glitching, or even abstracting

Caine doesnt immediately pick up on your presence, i feel like its in his programming to be aware when a new member joins the circus, but for some reason he didnt notice you until he saw you, or someone brings you up to him

It was Ragatha, who was trying to get answers from him. Who's kid was this? Is it really fair to let a kid be stuck here? Obviously she knew Caine couldnt do anything about it now that you were here, nor did he have any hand in you putting on the headset.

Except... you correct them and say you didn't put on any headset, you were trapped in it.

Of course you're trapped, just like the rest of us, Jax says

None of them immediately believe you try to tell them you're a ghost. Except of course, Kinger, who reasons that that's why you look the way you do; and Gangle, who in my opinion probably finds interest in the supernatural.. or maybe that's just me projecting onto her. Who knows. But the point still stands, almost everyone doesn't believe you.

Not long after, Jax accidentally ropes you into prank that was originally intended for Zooble, I dont think Jax would go as far as to bully a child.... well... actually no, he seems like the type to bully kids on roblox.

The prank wasnt planned for you, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. You open a door, and are immediately greeted with a fake snake lunging out at you. You scream, more so out of surprise and fear than anger. It does turn into anger when Jax laughs at you, still finding some kind of joy from the prank getting at least someone. Your scream rises, causing nearly everyone to cover their ears, the rest were not there in the room but would come rushing to see what the hell was going on

I think it would be that instance as well as a few other; namely ones where you became invisible and started removing one of Zooble's limbs after they (unintentionally) said something a little too mean to you. The idea of you being a ghost was further cemented when both Gangle and Ragatha watched you literally phase through a wall. But hey at least someone (Jax) starts laying off of you when it becomes clear you weren't lying

There's mixed feelings, a lot negative. I mean, you're just a kid and you're. Well, a ghost. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to come to the conclusion that something happened to you. Whether or not you remember the details of your death when you became a ghost, or after joining the digital world, is all up to you

Caine, as mentioned before in posts where the reader is a child, tries to be a father figure. He's not the best, since he's programmed to be a ring master, but he definitely tries his best. I like to think he tries to read you bedtime stories when the digital world simulates 'night'

Pomni, who I totally didn't forget, tries to overcome her fear of you and your ghostly powers, ultimately becoming sympathetic you and your situation. Not only was your life cut short, but you were trapped here too, you didn't even get to roam the world in the afterlife. Interactions with her are awkward but there's an effort to try to bring you some form of comfort

Jax, after he stops pulling jokes on you cant deny that he doesnt find you creepy. I think, though, he would ask you if you want to help him scare some of the other members. Whether you be offended by the concept or not is also up to you, since I'm not sure if you wanted the reader to be sensitive regarding their current predicament or not

Ragatha goes into full big sister mode, even before it's confirmed that you're a ghost. Sure, she's a little put off by your ganky and gorey looks, but her heart aches for you. Similar to Caine she tries to do general child care activities with you, perhaps if you let her, she would do your hair and make you dresses

Kinger will take a while to warm up to you, but I think after some time would start to open up to you, usually it's best to interact with him when he's already in a calmer state. He already gives me dad vibes that I cant pin down... but he would tell you stories of his past (in house) adventures and some funny stuff that has happened over his time in the digital world

Zooble is going to need a moment to get over the invisible dismemberment thing... as well as Zooble being Zooble and needing some time to warm up to people in general... Not much to be said, yet...

Gangle would offer to lend you some art supplies... kids like arts and crafts stuff, right? Thats her logic, at least, and if it means you have an outlet for your emotions then that would be great!

Overall you now have a funky found family, so hey, at least things aren't totally... terrible.. Unfortunately with them stuck in the digital world they can't do much to get you justice, if you let them know you were murdered. But rest assured if your killer somehow gets trapped in there with them and you recognize them, they have your back

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 5 days

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I see! Sorry about that! I wouldn't have asked for part 2 if I know you don't! Can I request Mammon accidentally confessing to Reader? Like he was so relaxed because he had such a good day that he blurted it out to her?

Pride {Mammon}

A/n: the way tumblr replaced the yellow colour with orange is criminal because I can't colour my title in orange when Mammon's colour is yellow

Pairing: Mammon x fem!reader

Trigger warnings: none

It had taken both you and Mammon a great deal of time to get close to each other. It was chaotic when you finally got used to each other but to Mammon it was also comforting. He didn't want to admit it but it was more comforting than chaotic despite his carefree nature.

And he thought about it a lot when he was alone running errands or relaxing in his bed or even gambling. All he could think about most of the time was how much better whatever he was doing would be if you were there with him. Truth be told, he knew you would save him from a lot of trouble and therefore punishments from Lucifer.

Slowly, as time went by, Mammon's days were divided in two parts: him thinking about you and you being there with him.

Don't get him wrong though, he will still complain whenever you are with him, doing homework, shopping, you name it and he will definitely be complaining. Because Mammon isn't dumb. He knows he can't confess for a miriad of reasons.

For one, you are human; a human who is there for a short amount of time and will eventually most likely leave. Then there's this law the Devildom has: no dating between humans and demons. No one could guarantee that this law hasn't been broken before but Mammon is a Lord, a Sin, he is literally the second most powerful Sin he can't just go around dating a lowly human.

Lucifer would make sure he'd never see the light of his golden credit card ever again.

"Devildom calls to Mammon!" You playfully push him, not hard enough to make him fall off your bed but ard enough to bring him back to reality. "It's your turn."

"Ugh, I can't figure this game out." He throws the UNO cards on your bed and falls back on your pillows.

"Mammon, it's simple, you just need to focus!"

"I can't!" He raises his voice, something the two of you do just for fun.

"Come on!" You whine and throw your cards on top of his before starting to shake him. Mammon is far from phased, he is just looking at you while you're playfully shaking his shoulders.

"You're cute."

"What?" Your expression turns serious but you don't stop shaking him, maybe out of shock.

"What?" He repeats in the same shocked voice as you as the two of you look at each other with wide eyes.

Mammon was in a dilemma. Should he tell you the truth? Tell you this was a mistake?

"Do you mean it?" You gently let go of him and sat on your knees next to him on the bed. There was a slight glimpse of something that looked like hope in your eyes and you were looking down at him and Mammon could swear that he could see a small smile on your lips.

He paused, a light blush staining his cheeks and as soon as he felt the familiar warmth settling on his cheeks, he looked away. "What does the great Mammon gets if he tells ya the truth?" He propped himself on his elbows.

"A kiss on the cheek?" Your reply was cheeky and he knew you were somewhat playing with his feelings because there was no way you would be okay with this. Not when you were so set on always following the rules.

But Mammon couldn't bring himself to lie, even if you were playing with him. "Yeah... you're... cute... I like you." He mumbled, his voice coming out as a whisper.

"Like?" That small smile on your lips grew bigger and Mammon quickly sat up.

"Hey, don't go around being all proud of it."

"But the great Mammon likes me." You teased him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

"Well..." Mammon's puffed out his chest, an odd sense of pride taking over him. "I mean logically speaking you should parade it around, however I will make an exception for you because you're beautiful and all that." You happily cheered and cupped his face between your hands, squeezing his cheeks before planting a big kiss on his lips. "I've more where that came from..."

#obey me mammon x reader #mammon x reader #mammon obey me #mammon obey me x reader #mammon x mc #mammon fluff #mammon x reader fluff #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date mammon x reader #obey me shall we date x reader #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date #obey me otome #writing #anime and manga #anime #manga

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snixkers · 2 months

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Control Freak

Pairing: Emily × Fem Reader

EXPLICIT CONTENT

Smut with a plot

For: @d33pd3sire-blog

Content Warnings: need for organization, fingering, heavy kissing, petting, pet name (baby), no use of Y/N, slight dom/sub relationship

Summary: You're a control freak, but a night with Emily changes that.

Author's note: First time writing smut! Let me know how it is!

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN

The desks of the bullpen were always neatly organized, in rows and sections demanding respect. The surfaces were clean with only a few personal items, but even those were kept to the side to make room for the work they had to do.

You sat down at your desk, straightening your pens out and making sure the logo of your mug was facing you. Across the divider, Emily watched you curiously.

"So, the organizing. What's up with that?"

You shrugged, already used to this question after dealing with it your whole life.

"I just like having everything in its place. Makes me feel in control."

You smiled softly at her and turned back to your computer, completely missing the way her eyes gleamed when you mentioned control.

----

Every time you traveled for a case, you were ready to head home immediately. Your clothes were wrinkled, the coffee there wasn't made the way you wanted, and most importantly, you weren't in your own space.

Emily set her duffel bag down on her side of the room, pulling her items out and tossing them onto the bed. You wrinkled your nose at the lack of organization but held your tongue for formalities.

She offered you the bathroom first, and you jumped at the opportunity to clean up before bed. After a long shower, you pulled on your pajamas, ready to flop onto the bed.

But when you left the bathroom, she started to laugh. You took a second to realize it was at you and your pajamas, bristling with indignation.

"There's nothing wrong with them!"

She shook her head, unable to wipe the smirk off her face as she watched you take a seat on the edge of the bed, following suit.

"I know nothing's wrong. I'm just not used to seeing you in anything less than business casual."

You rolled your eyes at that sentiment, although she did have somewhat of a point. It wasn't like you were a robot, but you certainly didn't like to make mistakes.

"I'm not Hotch, Emily. I relax every once in a while."

Her smile changed, turning almost predatory as she leaned imperceptibly closer.

"So there are times you like to give up control?"

You swallowed the sudden nerves down, the hairs on the back of your neck rising at the sound of her voice.

"I do, sometimes."

You hated the way your voice trembled and hers deepened, but you certainly couldn't deny the effect it was having on the both of you. She scooted closer to you, her eyes piercing yours.

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like ages, sizing each other up before your lips pressed together.

It was gentle at first, but quickly burned hotter as both of you realized just how much you wanted this. You wrapped your hands around the back of her neck and she settled hers on your hips, stroking the flesh gently.

You broke away from her and accidentally glanced at the mirror. You looked slightly breathless and disheveled, and you hated the sight.

She frowned softly as you pushed her away, but she wasn't going to push you for more.

"What's wrong?"

You sighed, not wanting to sound childish, but also knowing she could see right through any lie you could come up with.

"It's nothing to do with you. I just don't want to look messy."

She reached out to stroke your hair back into place, impossibly gentle with her touch.

"I promise when I'm done with you, I'll clean up the mess."

You shivered at the words, a surge of heat running through you. Wordlessly, you pulled her back in, as if to say 'Here's my trust. Now please alphabetize my organs.'

She grinned into the kiss, her teeth grazing your lower lip lightly before she slipped her hands just below the waistband of your pajama bottoms.

"I know it doesn't feel like it, but you're the one in control here."

You nodded, shimmying out of your pants and underwear as best as you could and kicking them off to the side. She sat you up on the bed, pulling your back flat against her chest.

She pressed kisses to the back of your neck, surprisingly gentle compared to the hands that were desperately wandering along the rest of your body.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror as Emily spread your legs apart, staring between your legs with a fierce hunger. The heat surged through your core, and she chuckled as if aware of the effect she had on you.

Emily traced the tips of her fingers down over your belly and around your thighs before finally settling on the one place you wanted her to touch the most.

You let out an embarrassingly loud sigh as she applied pressure to your clit, sending a shock up your spine. She grinned at the noise, circling carefully and watching to see what you liked best.

She kissed the side of your neck, meeting your gaze in the shared reflection. "See? You're in control, baby. You can see everything I'm doing."

You tried to reply, but all that came out was another moan as she increased the pressure against your nub.

She smirked, slipping a finger down towards your entrance. You nodded eagerly, desperate for more. You needed her to tell you what to do, and you wouldn't ask any questions.

Her finger slowly slipped inside your entrance, and she exhaled at the feeling of you around her. Your reaction was much less subtle, thighs squeezing together.

She shook her head, carefully prying your legs apart. "I want to see you. All of you."

You nodded, the dizzying pressure of her fingers pumping causing you to see stats. Clutching the sheets, you watched yourself turn into a mess at her touch. Shockingly enough, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be.

She traced your shoulder, contrasting her second finger currently sliding into your wetness up to the knuckle. Your back arched at the sensation, silently begging her for more.

The pace of her fingers increased with your moans, and the continued circling of your clit had you writhing in her arms, at her mercy.

Luckily, she took pity on you, continuing her ministrations and pulling you closer. "Go ahead and cum, baby."

You let out a choked moan, fluttering around her fingers as you reached your high, your head falling back onto her shoulder.

She smiled widely, easing you down from your climax and pulling her fingers out of you.

"Was that okay?"

You could do nothing but nod in agreement, unable to put into words how much you wanted to do that again. As if sensing your exhaustion, she grabbed you a glass of water.

After sipping it gratefully, you curled up on the mattress and were out as soon as you wrapped yourself in her arms.

----

You were feeling much better as you headed into the precinct the next day, ready to tackle the case with a fresh perspective.

Working with profilers had its downsides, however. Rossi and Hotch noticed after seeing a wrinkle in your shirt. Reid and Morgan figured it out when you shrugged calmly when the precinct ran out of coffee, instead of grumbling. Even JJ realized something was up as you sat down in the crickety old chair, a smile on your face.

Reid raises an eyebrow as he stirs his ridiculously sugary coffee, glancing over at the area you had set up.

"You forgot your normal mug."

Your eyes widened as you realized you were in such a hurry you had left it in your hotel room, but there wasn't much you could do about it now.

"Oh, it's not a big deal."

The team stared at you in surprise, and you sank in your seat, trying to avoid Emily's smug smirk.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #smut #first attempt #writers on tumblr #fanfic #18+ content #feedback

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vbecker10 · 1 year

Text

The Blind Date? (Part 3 of 4)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 (in progress)

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Warnings: fighting, arguing, threatening language, brief use of a gun, mentions of dried blood, getting kidnapped... twice?, hangry, mild swearing... no fluff yet but I swear it is coming in the fourth part and it will be worth it

Summary: Your friend sets you up on a blind date with someone she works with at SHIELD but you accidentally end up on a mission with Loki. Your date comes to an abrupt end when you realize Loki isn't the one Michelle meant to set you up with and his mission puts you both in danger.

@michelleleewise thank you so so so much for reading every single part of this in random pieces and completely out of order over the last few days lol I really appreciate all of your help and letting me bounce ideas off of you!!

Dividers by: @harlequin-hangout

(Y/N POV)

"What... what do you mean 'who's Michelle?' You definitely know her. She has purple hair and works with you at SHIELD," you explain and he shrugs. "She's the one who set us up tonight... You talked to her the other day and she said you were looking forward to going on a blind date with me?"

He shakes his head and leans back in his chair, "No offense to you, of course but I would never agree to go on a blind date. Thor has tried many times to set me up, here and on Asgard but I have never needed anyone's assistance acquiring a date."

"You're literally on a blind date right now," you say, gesturing between the two of you.

"I am not-" he starts but his words die out and his expression suddenly changes, as if he's remembered something.

"Look, if you've changed your mind about this that's fine, Loki. I can just leave," you say loudly. Your outburst draws the attention of the people at the next table and you notice how Loki seems worried they are listening. You groan in frustration then snap at him, "And next time you're on a date with someone, try not to spend the whole night looking over at the beautiful women at the next table."

"Please, keep your voice down," he says in a hushed tone. "Come outside with me and we can talk. I will explain but you need to calm down," he urges as he stands up and tries to take your hand.

"I am calm and I'm not going anywhere with you. I'm going home," you tell him, you stand up as well and pull your hand free from his.

You look just beyond Loki and see the men and women at the table nearest you leaving quickly. The older man is left alone at the table but only for a moment as he waves over three men who had been standing in various corners of the restaurant. He whispers something to the large men and points towards you and Loki.

"Great," you mumble at Loki, "Now we're going to get banned from here and I didn't even get to eat dinner."

"We will be lucky if that is all that happens," he says quietly.

"What are you talking about?" you demand but he doesn't answer. He turns slightly and takes something out of his pocket, placing it in his ear. "What the hell-"

"Be quiet," he says to you in a harsh tone. The three men approach your table and the older man disappears into the kitchen. Loki faces the men, putting himself between you and them and smiles apologetically. "I'm sorry for the disturbance," he offers, "My girlfriend and I were having a bit of a lovers quarrel but it's been settled and we were just leaving." He takes your hand and this time you don't pull away as he tries to guide you from the table.

"We have a private room in the back where you and your lady can sort out your... issues," one of the men says in a gravely voice.

"That won't be necessary," he replies and you squeeze his hand tightly. "She was right and I was wrong, which is usually the case as I'm sure you all know."

One of the men grabs your wrist and tries to pull you from Loki, "I'm going to have to insist you join us in the back room, Loki."

Your heart begins to pound faster as you look to the God of Mischief for help but instead he calmly asks, "Loki? Why on Earth would you call me that?"

"That's what she keeps calling you, isn't it?" the man who is holding your arm answers.

"Oh, that's just a pet name she has for me, I will admit it's a bit odd. I would tell you the story of why but... well it's very long and not entirely appropriate," he says with a wink.

"Is that true?" the man asks you and you nod quickly. "In that case, I think you should tell us the story behind the nickname. We're all curious, aren't we?" he says as he looks at the other two men. "Come now," he pulls on your arm again, "You can tell us everything in the back." As he starts to move you towards the kitchen, his jacket opens slightly and you catch a glimpse of a gun in a holster at his side.

"Loki?" you ask in a terrified whisper.

Loki's attention shifts from the three men to you and suddenly his appearance changes. Standing in front of you is a man you vaguely remember seeing by the bar earlier. "What the fuck-" one of the men can barely ask before his appearance shifts again and the waiter who spilled the water is holding your hand. Just as quickly, he becomes Loki again and the man holding you reaches into his jacket with his free hand.

"There's no need for that," Loki says calmly. He looks over at you and says, "We will go with you," and you nod slightly, not knowing what else to do. The other two men each grab one of his arms and you are both pushed towards the kitchen.

"Stay calm," Loki whispers to you as they open the doors to the kitchen, but that was easier said than done.

(LOKI POV)

"You've got to be kidding me, Laufeyson," Stark says loudly in your ear. "You're going to get this woman killed. You need to get the hell out of there now, before this gets any worse... if that's even possible."

"And remember, you can't just kill everyone," Rogers adds and you force yourself not to roll your eyes. "That place is full of innocent civilians and we still need to keep as much of the recon mission intact as possible or this will all have been for nothing."

The cooks and waiters in the kitchen expertly avoid eye contact with you and Y/N as you are lead through the room towards the metal doors. "These two were planning to dine and dash so we're taking them to see the boss," one of the men explains but no one acknowledges him. You imagine this isn't the first time the employees have witnessed people being dragged into the back rooms. You briefly wonder if any of those people had been able to talk their way out of leaving through the front door.

You can tell Y/N is scared and confused but you force down the growing feeling of guilt, you need to keep a level head to get the two of you out of this. You don't resist as the two enforcers push you through the metal door on the left, into the halfway you were in earlier. "This way," the man holding onto Y/N's arm grunts as he pulls her down the hall.

You hear Rogers say, "This isn't good." You grind your teeth to keep from asking if anything about your current situation was good.

He stops to unlock the door on the other side of the hall from the office. You remember seeing it on the floor plan and it was a room you had no desire to go into. Y/N tries to struggle as she is dragged into the room first and you are brought in only a few steps behind. The room is empty except for four large meat hooks which hang from the ceiling. Tattered rope hangs on the end of one of the hooks from the last individual who offended the mob. Trails of dried blood have seeped into the concrete, leading to a rusted metal drain in the center of the floor.

"If you're going to do something, I suggest doing it now, Laufeyson," Stark urges and for once you agree with him.

With the door still open, you easily pull your arms free from the two enforcers who had been holding you. Before they can react, you wave your arm towards both of them, slamming them into the blood stained tile wall with a green flash. They hit the floor hard, one unconscious and one groaning in pain as he tries to stand up. Without waiting for him to get to his feet, you wave your hand downwards and with another green flash his head hits the ground with a thud.

You turn your attention to Y/N and the man holding her, walking slowly towards them. He tightens his grip on her arm and pulls her in front of him as a shield. He takes out his gun and points it at you over her shoulder, his hand shaking. With a flick of your wrist, you let out a green flash which pulls the gun from his hand, sending it sliding across the floor.

"Let go of her," you order him and to your surprise, he does.

He quickly releases Y/N and steps to the side of her, his arms raised slightly in surrender as he backs away from you. Not willing to risk being followed, you wave your arm wide and he hits the tile wall hard, shattering a few.

You reach for Y/N and ask her, "Are you alright?"

She looks at you in stunned silence for a moment than suddenly, she raises both hands to your chest and tries to shove you but you don't move. She yells, "No! No, I am not alright! What the hell is going on?"

You take a lose hold of her wrists and lower her hands gently. "I told you, I will explain but we need to leave," you tell her. She looks towards the open door and then back at the three unconscious men. "Unless you would like to stay and see how long it takes them to wake up," you say when she doesn't move.

"Ready to go when you are," she responds and you nod.

You take her hand, keeping her close to you as you leave the room. You wave your free hand towards the door to the office and a green glow surrounds it momentarily. She looks at you questioningly and you answer, "Just making sure it's locked."

"Here, this door leads to a back alley," you tell her as you use your magic to disable the alarm attached to it. "Captain Rogers will meet us a few blocks away and bring us back to the Tower," you say once you are finally outside.

"I'm going to need that," you hear from the front seat and look up before you can even unlock your phone.

(Y/N POV)

Three blocks away from the restaurant, you and Loki finally slow down just as a black van pulls up next to you. The side door slides open and Loki tells you to get in. You do without question and he follows you, pulling the door shut as the van takes off. You take a few slow, deep breaths and sit back in your seat as the van makes a turn.

"Can you drop me off at the subway station coming up?" you ask and Captain Rogers turns around from the front passenger seat.

"Sorry Y/N," he says. "That won't be possible."

"What- how do you know my name?" you ask and Loki turns from you, looking out the window.

"We were listening," Tony Stark answers through a speaker in the front of the van.

"Why would you do that?" you ask.

"Loki was on his first solo mission," Captain Rogers explains.

"First solo mission..." you repeat. "Wait, I was part of some stupid mission?"

"Yes and believe me, none of us are happy about it," he answers. He turns to Loki who is still looking out the window. "Everything that happened tonight is going in my report. I think we're going to have to extend your probation."

"You're on probation?" you ask him loudly and he nods but doesn't speak. "Wait... but why can't you take me to the subway?" you ask as the agent driving passes the station entrance.

"You need to come back to the Tower and be debriefed," Tony says.

"Debriefed? But I don't know anything about what just happened and to be honest I don't really want to know. I want to go home, eat something with chocolate in it and go to sleep," you tell them honestly.

"I'm sorry, it's too late," Captain Rogers says.

You sit back in your seat again then take your phone out. You need to text Jess and Michelle, you have to tell them what happened and that you are on your way to the Tower. Maybe they would be able to meet you there and help you sort out what was going on.

"What?" you ask Captain Rogers.

He holds out his hand, "I need your phone."

"You can't be serious?" you ask, looking at Loki for help but he just stares out the window in silence.

"I'm sorry but its protocol," he shrugs.

"This is bullshit," you mumble as you hand him your phone then cross you arms and sit back in your seat.

Through the speaker in the front of the van, Tony says, "Language."

(Y/N POV)

You follow Agent Hill silently down the long hallway, there are five tall doors on either side with an agent posted outside each one. You try not to look as intimidated as you feel when she opens the third door, leading you into a small room. Your stomach drops and you immediately recognize this space, anyone who had ever watched a law enforcement show would know this was an interrogation room. There is a rectangular steel table in the middle with an uncomfortable looking chair on each of the long sides. The light gray walls are completely bare and there are no windows, unless you were to count the mirror on the wall opposite the door. You have no doubt the large framed mirror is a one-way window, an idea which makes you feel more than a little paranoid.

"No, there's been a mistake," you say to her, turning to leave. "Isn't there somewhere else I can wait to talk to-" the agent on guard at the door easily moves to block you from leaving.

"Someone will be in to talk to you in a few minutes," Agent Hill replies calmly and motions for the agent to return to his post. "Try to make yourself comfortable," she says and when you turn towards the harsh metal chairs she leaves the room.

You look quickly back at the door when you hear it slam closed, unable to move from shock you stand motionless in the middle of the room. After a few moments, you realize she was being serious about making yourself comfortable although you have no idea how you are supposed to do that. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself before you decide sitting still would probably make you even more anxious than you already are. You walk to the edge of the room and wander slowly around the space, the steady clicking of your increasingly painful heels is the only sound other than a steady flow of air from the vent over the door. After the tenth lap you begin to grow impatient and walk over to the mirrored window.

You knock on the glass and wait a few seconds before asking, "Is someone in there?" You aren't surprised when there isn't a response but you try again anyway. Knocking slightly harder the second time you ask, "Can I talk to Captain Rogers or... anyone?"

You pause as you realize you not only weren't told who you are supposed to be debriefed by but also why you would need to be. You only knew two things about the mission he was apparently on. The first being, the old man who owned the restaurant was clearly into something bad enough that the Avengers had taken notice of him and the second was that Loki had for some reason been required to pretend he was interested in you.

You decide to attempt to speak to someone one more time and knock on the window again. "I really want to go home. I swear I don't know anything, can't you just let me leave?" you ask but the only answer is silence.

You turn from the window and begin to pace around the room again, unable to stop looking at your watch every time you complete a lap. Fifteen minutes later you find yourself standing in front of the door, staring at the handle. You shake your head and reach out, gripping the handle tightly as you try to turn it but you knew nothing would happen. You twist the handle to the left then right and back again but it won't turn.

"For fuck's sake," you groan as you give up on the door. You pull out one of the chairs and it scraps loudly on the tile, causing you to wince from the sound. I can't be here that much longer, you think but you are beginning to wonder if SHIELD is planning on leaving you here all night.

Your stomach grumbles and you wish you had been able to eat dinner. You didn't even have a chance to finish your appetizer before everything went to hell. You lean back and stare up at the ceiling, counting the tiles out loud to distract yourself.

When you finish your count you check your watch again, it's just after 9 pm. You get up angrily, you had been locked in this room for almost forty five minutes. You knock on the glass with more force than last few times and demand to speak to someone. "I'm tired of waiting around in here. You can't just keep me all night. I haven't done anything wrong and I want to go home, now," you keep your face close to the mirror but you are unable to see beyond your reflection.

The silence means everything, you are going to be in here for a long as SHIELD decides to keep you. You pound on the glass one more time in anger, pain spreads through your hand and down your wrist. You sit back in the chair and hold your hand, slowly flexing your fingers.

"This is fucking ridiculous," you curse under your breath, a part of you wishing Tony Stark or Captain Rogers would at least appear to yell at you about your language. You cross your arms on the table and rest your head on them, "This has to be the worst blind date anyone has ever been on."

(Y/N POV)

The solid door slams closed, jolting you awake. You sit up quickly, your heart pounding as you look around the room and slowly remember where you are. Rubbing your eyes with one hand, you blink as the figure by the door comes into focus.

"Oh good, you're awake," he says as he walks over to the table. "Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD," he introduces himself.

You barely register what he said as you check your watch in disbelief, "I've been in here for three and a half hours!?"

"Sorry about that, we had to deal with a small... miscommunication," he says. He opens the folder in his hand and reads the contents for a moment before asking, "What's your full name?"

"Y/N Y/L/N," you answer, unwilling to hide the annoyance in your tone. He nods then takes a single sheet of paper out of the thin folder and places it on the table with a pen. "What is this?" you ask, picking it up.

"A non-disclosure agreement," he answers.

You look up at him quickly, "What?! I thought I was supposed to be interviewed or debriefed or something. I've been sitting here for hours for this stupid piece of paper?"

"That would be what the miscommunication was about," he replies as if it was obvious.

"You're freaking joking," you say, still in shock that this night hadn't ended yet.

"Do I look like someone who tells jokes?" he asks and you shake your head silently, biting back a sarcastic comment. He offers only a slight explanation for the extremely long wait, "Loki informed the team that you truly were unaware of any part of the mission so a debriefing wouldn't be necessary. Sign this and you can be on your way."

"And what if I don't want to sign it?" you ask, your anger at the current situation outweighting your common sense.

"It wasn't a request," he answers.

You glance at the paper, knowing you should at least skim it but you are too angry and tired and hungry to deal with it. You sign the paper quickly and toss the pen back on the table as you stand up. "Can I have my phone back now?" you ask.

He picks up the paper, putting it back in the folder then takes your phone out of his jacket pocket. "Agent Coulson will take you home now," he says, handing you the phone.

You momentarily debate turning down the offer but decide against it. On a good night it wasn't a great idea to take the subway at midnight alone and this certainly hadn't been a good night. "Fine, but he's stopping somewhere so I can get food," you respond as a man who you assume is Agent Coulson walks into the room.

"Sorry Miss Y/L/N, I'm only authorized to drive you home," he says and you sigh loudly. He holds the door open and you walk out into the hallway. "This way," he turns to the left and you follow him to the elevators.

(LOKI POV)

Thor stands by the door and waits for Stark, Rogers, Fury and Barnes to leave the room. You aren't in the mood to speak to your brother at the moment but you doubt that will stop him.

"You can yell if you would like, brother, but I'm sure Rogers covered how much of a failure I am already," you tell him as you walk towards the door.

"I'm not going to yell," he says calmly as you walk past him into the hallway.

"Ah, trying the 'I'm not mad, I'm disappointed method?" you jokingly ask and he follows you.

"I just want to know why you would risk being sent back to Asgard," he says and you stop. "This wasn't just another mission, this was your first one without the team. You were supposed to follow the plan and show them you could be trusted. Why would you endanger a civilian and gamble with the mission?"

You stand in front of him silently for a moment before answering. "I honestly thought the mission was simple enough. I should have had no issues planting the listening devices and spending the rest of the evening enjoying a meal with someone who... who doesn't think of me the way they all do," you gesture towards the empty seats.

Before your brother can respond, you see Y/N being escorted to the elevators by Agent Coulson. You take two steps in that direction and Thor puts his hand on your shoulder.

"Do you really think that is a good idea?" he asks.

"I just wanted to apologize to her for-" you start to explain.

Agent Coulson pushes the button to call the elevator and Y/N looks around slowly as if she is bored. She notices you and Thor, immediately turning away from you as she crosses her arms angrily.

"I have a feeling you might be the last person on Midgard she has any interest in speaking to right now," Thor says.

(Y/N POV)

You turn on the lights, lock the front door and sigh in relief as you pry off your heels, swearing you will never wear them again. You lean heavily against the door and finally take out your phone. You hadn't responded to your friends while you were in the car with Agent Coulson. You had been too busy trying to convince him that no one would notice if he stopped at a deli or a fast food restaurant for a few minutes. According to him, they would have and you finally gave up, spending the rest of the thirty minute car ride in hangry silence.

You stop in the hallway, mid-step at the sheer amount of messages and calls you missed. Michelle and Jess must have thought you had been kidnapped or killed and to be honest you did get kidnapped... twice. Once by whoever the angry men were at the restaurant and then again by SHIELD.

You open the chat between the three of you and decide you'll read all the messages tomorrow. The last thing you want to do right now is think about how tonight had officially been the worst blind date you or anyone else had ever been on. You decide a simple 'I'm home and I'm not dead' text will have to suffice. You type out the message, letting them know you will call them in the morning as you walk into your kitchen. Opening the fridge and take out a bottle of water then grab a package of pretzels from the cabinet.

You sit on the couch, tossing your phone onto the coffee table and slowly drink the water. You swing your legs up onto the couch and forget entirely about the pretzels as you close your eyes.

(LOKI POV)

"I still don't understand why I simply can't summon the weapons I need during training," you complain to your brother. "Why must I borrow their inferior ones. I will never use them in a fight."

"If you keep skipping these training courses, you won't have to worry about their inferior weapons because they will never let you out into the field again," Thor counters and you groan. The Avengers seemed to have a training course or seminar on everything, even how to fill out paperwork which you recently found out you are still doing incorrectly somehow. You were almost convinced that the Captain changed the requirements every time you submitted a form.

"Very well," you mutter in response as you enter the armory. You freeze the moment the door closes and Thor smiles at you.

"Something wrong brother?" he asks. You gesture towards the two woman talking behind the raised counter. "Oh, you know Michelle and Jess, don't you Loki?" The woman with the purple hair turns towards you and you find yourself thankful that looks can not actually kill.

"No, we've never formally met," you find your voice after a moment.

Thor walks towards the two woman, Michelle crosses her arms against her chest and watches you closely. Her coworker, with red and blue highlights, picks up one of the small throwing knives from the counter and slowly begins to play with it.

You nod awkwardly. "And this is Michelle. She heads up the research department that deals with biological and chemical weapons," Thor continues.

"Good afternoon," Thor smiles at both of them, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable you are. "Well Loki, this is Jess. She is a weapons specialist and runs most of the training simulators. You'll need to speak with her about signing out the daggers you want to use," he tells you.

"Hello," you say after clearing your throat.

"I'll leave you three to talk," Thor says as he backs away from you. "Oh, brother I was wrong. There isn't a training course today so take as much time with Y/N's friends as you need." With that, he slips out of the room, leaving you alone with two women who are less than fond of you.

You stand in front of them for a moment, trying to decide how to phrase your question. Thor knew you had been thinking about Y/N a lot over the last week and you felt as if you needed to apologize to her for everything that happened. You hadn't meant to put her in danger or have her locked in an interrogation room for hours. Truth be told, when you weren't trying to focus on the mission, you enjoyed the brief moments you had been able to spend with her.

"What do you want?" Michelle finally asks.

"I was hoping you would give me Y/N's phone number?" you ask. "I need to speak with her."

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crookedteethed · 4 months

Text

RADIO appearance (2) | e.m & s.h

Pairing: Rockstar!EddieMunson x Radiohost fem reader x BandManager! Steve Harrington

Summary: You're seemingly going nowhere at your job at Studio 66. You finally get your big break when your boss meets a terrible fate. Given the opportunity to become Mental in the Morning's newest radio host, you embark on a never before experience when you fall into a love triangle between Corroded Coffins, Eddie Munson, and his manager, Steve Harrington, all while trying not to lose yourself to your sudden fame. What will you choose?

WARNING: Cursing, Misogyny, Love Triangle, eventual smut, Drug and alcohol use, slowburn(?), Ocs,

Author note: Thanks for all the support on part 1 💗💗💗💗

RADIO appearance ⭑ materiel list

Divider credit- @cafekitsune

Spike Van Dyke was a dead idiot.

…

Okay, so maybe Bonnie hadn't killed Spike. But according to Spike's son, Tommie Van Dyke, Bonnie put staples so deep into Spike's neck she'd punctured his Larynx. And the staples to his head may leave Spike, a brain-dead idiot. So, until further notice:

"Mental in the morning is on hold, until I can find a replacement for my father." Tommy announced.

After the paramedics had collected Spike's body and the police had escorted Bonnie to the back of the cop car, the day went on as normal. Except, it wasn't normal. There was still yellow caution tape left behind, and the trail of Spike's blood had started to set and sink into the carpets, and I was almost sure everyone at Studio 66 shuttered at the sight of staplers.

Tommy didn't seem to care about the staples and his father. As most did, Tommy seemed to hate his father, too. He was only roped into this mess because he was the next heir of Studio 66.

"Shit!" Tommy curses, accidentally slamming his finger in the metal drawer in Spike's office.

The radio business wasn't Tommy's thing. When asked why don't he be the one to replace Spike, he said: "I don't have time to interview pretentious assholes."

"You okay?" I squeak, trying not to make him more distraught with my presence. Tommy looks at me while sucking his throbbing finger.

"Yeah." He sighs. I step further into the room. Though it was nearly hours ago, I still smell Steve's aroma lingering around the room. The camel cigarettes…sniff sniff… And maybe a little hairspray…sniff sniff… And his cologne, an expensive cologne, I assume.

"You wouldn't know where my father keeps his phone book by chance?" Tommy asks me. I snap out of my thoughts, and I can track down Spike's thick phone book from muscle memory. I hand the book to Tommy.

"Thanks." He mutters.

From Cher to Bob Saget, any celebrity, you name it, Spikes had their phone number. For an asshole, he sure did know how to social network.

"I'm trying to call up a few folks and see if they're interested in guest hosting the show for the next few weeks." He says, preoccupied with flipping through the pages of the book.

"If you don't mind me asking, sir—"

"Sir? I'm not my father. just call me Tommy." I nod.

"Tommy," I say, a bit unsure. "What's wrong with it just being Candice on air? I mean, she is the show's co-host."

"Candice only good reason for being on the show is for looks, make our male audiences dick hard while driving to their dead-end jobs in the morning. Plus, Candice doesn't know music, she's just a spectator of it."

Like Spike knew music. He bitched and moaned about half of his guest's music, but it was said bitching and moaning and blunt remarks that made him so entertaining.

As Tommy flips to the M's, my eyes land on Eddie Munson's number: 930-455-. Tommy flips the page.

I think about the dare I had given Steve and how he'd done it without thinking twice. Suddenly, I had a burst of confidence now that Spike was gone (for now), and I dared myself to say:

"I know music. You hum a tune, and I can name it." I nodded. "Some might say I know music better than old Spike Van Dyke." Be that as it may, I was trying to sell myself. I only knew a slew of songs, half of which were commercial jingles.

Tommy stops flipping through the pages of the phone book, a stern look of concentration on his face. When I thought my plan backfired, I tried to give him that seductive face Candice makes when she wants something: Doe eyes and pouty lips. That backfires immediately when Tommy asks me if I'm constipated.

"That isn't a bad idea." Tommy mutters to himself. "You're his assistant, right?" He asks me. I nod my head quickly, turning into a bobblehead.

“It’ll be like killing three birds with one stone,” Tommy said, like he had just had a groundbreaking epiphany. “I wouldn’t have to find another host, that means I wouldn’t have to pay for another host either, and I get to piss off my dad and watch his show go to shit. I mean, the assistant as the host of Mental in the Morning? That’s some funny stuff!” He laughs.

Nonetheless, his statement was demoralizing. But I found myself laughing along with him. I mimic him when the laughter stops, staring at each other harshly.

“Y/N, you’ve got yourself a deal. How would you like to be the temporary host of Mental in the Morning?”

You already knew the answer.

That night, I double-dog dared myself to call Steve. This seemed like something “Significant” to tell him about. After three long rings, Steve picks up.

“Who is this? How did you get my number?” He says harshly.

“It’s me, Y/N?”

His tone instantly changed; he was now delighted about my call. I try to tell him everything that happened today, but he says:

“Hey, Y/N, you’re breaking up! I can’t hear you!”

I was positive I had good reception since I paid my phone bill last week. But I moved to another part of my apartment, asking him:

“Can you hear me now!”

“Yeah, stupid phones. I don’t do well with them. Maybe we can meet up in person to talk, yeah?”

Before I knew it, I dared myself to give Corroded Coffin's manager my address.

“Nice place.” Steve says, spectating the inside of my loft apartment.

“Reminds me a lot of my place back in LA.” Right. He wasn’t from here.

I feel naked as Steve analyzes my apartment. My body flutters.

My apartment was me.

A lot can be told about a person by looking at their living space.

Steve was looking inside of me.

“You went to Stanford?” he states, pointing to my college diploma hung on the wall. I nod slowly.

“Smart girl you must be.” He mumbles. I flutter again; this time, it’s coming from one part of mine. (I’ll give you a hint: It’s shaped like a V).

“Did you go?” I ask him, squeezing my legs together.

“To Stanford?”

“No, to college?” I said. There was quite a distance between us, Steve on one end of the room staring at my college diploma and me on the other end staring at him.

“No.” he says, finally turning to me. I’m met with his lingering gaze. “My father refused to pay the bill…” He pauses, slightly taken aback. “Too worried about social pyramid in high school—I didn’t have the grades to get a scholarship…”

He strolls through the rest of my living room as if he was inside the Met Museum. His Hands crossed behind his back, an academic look plastered on his face. His hair bounces as he walks like he just got it freshly washed and massaged. He dragged the scent of the camels and cologne around the room, making it the only thing I was breathing in.

The camels, the hairspray, and the cologne: they were all giving me life.

"Capitalist. That's what my parents are." He continues. "They don't believe children should freeload off their parents." He bends down, looking at the gallery of photos and knick-knacks displayed on my glass bookshelf. I feel the bees prickling at my bones; once I see the photo that's caught his attention, he smirks.

"Oh, to think what white collar job I'll be working at now if my parents weren't so tightfisted. Drama club?" He asks, pointing to a photo of me during my high school's rendition of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. I'd been Elizabeth Bennet.

"You don't like being Corroded Coffin's manager?" I ask, changing the subject.

"What's not to like? The rock music, the fast cars, the girls, girls, girls…" There was a twinge of sarcasm in his voice. He picks up the picture frame. "You look beautiful in this picture." Flutter.

He refers to the photo of me decked out in Redford High School sewing club's finest collection. I was dressed in a 19th-century white gown, with silk flower accessories in my wig, a string of pearls, and a simple garnet cross at my throat.

"Thanks." I meekly say.

"Something Eddie'll be into." He mutters—another flutter, more like one long, hard pulse. "I'll still be rotting away in Hawkins if it weren't for Corroded Coffin, so what's not to like? Do you still own that dress?"

"Hawkins is in Indiana?" I question, he hums. Stir the conversation away from me. "That's where you and all the members of Corroded Coffin is from?" He places the picture frame back in its correct spot.

"Just me and Eddie." I hear the cracks of his joints when he stretches back up. He slowly starts touring the room again. It's not like my living room was spacious; you'd see everything when you stepped into the front door of my loft apartment.

It takes Steve no time to circle back to me. We both stood face to face in the center of the room.

“Frances and Dandy were stragglers we found through the big music corporation slave trade.” He says, disdain in his voice.

We never break eye contact.

His eyes on mine, my eyes on his. There was no longer any distance between us. Steve had been merely 5 inches taller than me, so if I were to kiss him, I would have to stand on my tiptoes, or he would have to hunch his head low.

Mr. Capri, my twelfth-grade drama club teacher, once told me: “The best kinds of kisses are sentimental. They’re languid, perfect, comfortable.” He said this during the last rehearsal of Pride and Prejudice before opening night. Mr. Capri had been an odd character. He seemed to go off his rendition of Pride and Prejudice because there was nothing other than handholding in the book.

I thought about that moment on opening night when Sebastian Howard (who played the role of Mr. Darcy) placed his chapped lips on mine. The kiss had been far from “sentimental, languid, or perfect.” More so, dispassionate, vigorous, and faulty.

Since then, I wondered what a sentimental, languid, perfect kiss felt like. I went through all of college without knowing.

“So, what is there not to like about being Corroded Coffin’s manager?” Steve says. “God forbid if I was doing something I really wanted to do.”

“What do you really want to do?” I said breathlessly; being this close to Steve suddenly made me remember that his scent gave me life.

Sentimental. Languid. Perfect.

I wonder if that’s how it’ll be if I were to kiss Steve.

“I could ask you the same. Working for a man that doesn’t even know your name. If you’re the type of girl I think you are, you could do so much better.”

I hadn’t mentioned the thing with Spike yet.

“And what type of girl do you think I am?”

Sentimental. Languid.

“The type to cower.” He says.

Sentimental.

“Let everyone else around her upstage her. Wanting to be front and center but too timid to fathom the thought.”

Dispassionate, vigorous, and faulty.

I feel the bees prickling at my bones again, accompanied by spiders building colonies of cobwebs underneath my skin.

“So, what is it you wanted to tell me?” he asks.

And so, I told him the story. Right after, I told him to leave.

Taglist- @sashaphantomhive

#steve harrington x reader #love triangle #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #radio appearance #90s #stranger things fic #rockstar eddie munson #bandmanager steve Harrington

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xxguardiantreexx · 7 months

Text

!!SPOILERS FOR OMFD S2 FINALE!!

I want to talk about the finale of OFMD, and specifically about why exactly Izzy's death makes me feel so despondent.

So I usually try to stay out of discourse, especially when it has a fandom as divided as this one seems to be now. And I sincerely don't want this to be taken as me being JUST ticked off or anything. But I feel like Izzy's death, while upsetting on it's own, speaks to a larger problem this season struggled with.

Season one, to me, was a gem. My mom's the one who discovered it and told me to watch it, we ended up watching it together and I was hooked (no pun intended) and flat out thrilled to be watching a show that so lovingly showcased positive queer rep and had a tight, hilarious, and touching storyline front to back. I was a wreck (why all the accidental puns today??) when it was over and couldn't wait for season two.

And season two WAS good! It was funny, I loved Buttons arc and Calypso's birthday and all the other great moments this season had. But to me, the biggest problem is that the pacing was really rushed and the writing too convoluted and crammed full of plot points that didn't fit together in the time allotted.

I've seen people on Twitter saying that the episodes never gave the story room to breathe, to let the audience finish reacting to One Thing before moving on to The Next Thing. They introduced new characters, villains, big monumental moments, and I never once felt like I had time to take any of it in with the love and appreciation I would have liked to because things just kept happening.

I don't know if this was a product of the writing itself being flawed on it's own, or HBO not giving OFMD the amount of episodes it deserves, or both. And just to be clear, I do not condone or agree with anyone harassing the creators for answers, or telling them they're dicks or whatever, because that's wrong.

But in my opinion, this season just didn't work. Season one did a great job of balancing it's episodic shenanigans with it's ongoing storyline, and while nothing is perfect, it was very well written and paced.

And that is why I have a big problem with how they handled the death of Izzy Hands being the completion of his character arc.

Here we have a very repressed, battered and broken man RELUCTANTLY coming back from the brink of death, struggling with his handicaps, damaged relationships and purposelessness on The Revenge. And we slowly see him begin to rebuild himself from the ground up. He creates meaningful emotional bonds with the crew he outright hated throughout all of season one, finds a place for his years of experience again when teaching Stede how to be a real pirate, and comes to terms with his relationship with Ed, and Ed's relationship with Stede. He makes peace with all of it and lets the love of the crew, of family, drive him forward for what little time he has left, because he was always on borrowed time by this point.

Ending a character arc with having said character die sucks, because it hurts when it's a character you care deeply about. But it can work, and it HAS worked. That's why writers keep torturing us by doing it.

The problem for me comes back to pacing.

It's the fact Izzy died by a random gunshot wound because he was standing in the wrong place. It's the fact Izzy died for what reads very much as a way to progress Ed's character arc, not end his own. It's the fact Izzy died and the reaction of the rest of the crew was shown so minimally, with nary a word said about it in the aftermath. It's the fact Izzy died and we were immediately swept off into the wedding scene and the introduction of the inn, without giving us, the audience, a quiet moment to grieve as well.

I'm not saying he necessarily needed a bombastic death scene, or for the season to end on an exceedingly somber note. But I feel like Izzy, for all he'd done this season and the growth his character attained, more than deserved a heroes death and clearer acknowledgement by his family. Not to give Ed, who's just kind of existed this season to me, a pep talk with his dying breath and for everyone to just move on immediately.

If there had been time given for this story to breathe, as much as it would have saddened me, I think this could have worked. I think Izzy could have died and it would have had more meaning, the meaning I'm sure they'd hoped it would when they decided to kill him off.

But it didn't work. Not to me at least, and I'm sad about it. A lot of us are sad about it, and will continue to be. Because we still need time to grieve before we can move on. I know it's just a show, and he's just a character in it, but it's a show that's meant so much to so many people, made us feel seen and accepted in a world where that's harder to come by than it should be. And to see a character so beloved get treated as a plot device to an extent at the end of his journey... I would have just loved better for him.

R.I.P. our brash, loud, exceptional unicorn, Izzy Hands.

#our flag means death #ofmd #izzy hands #israel hands

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alexa-fika · 1 hour

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Hey, nice to talk to you and if you see this its probably a mircle. Female,child!reader.

Can you do younger ASL like when Ace was 10 and luffy was 6. Its start when they meet reader when luffy hat accidentally flew away and when young!ASL was looking for it they meet a girl about 9 years old. She was picking flowers sitting in the grass with luffy's strawhat on her head because she found it and put it on her head. And they let her be there sister but had to piss off dadan first to do so with reader randomly grabbing a bow of chocolates from her back for dadan. (Extra) if you can do this I am literally praying if you do this can you let reader wear a hijab and abya but not closely fancy.

Trio Turned Quartet (ASL x f!child reader)

a/n You problably thought I din't see it since it's been so long but here we are, thank you @slaypanda for beta reading and making sure the content was respectful to the use of the garments and some small mannerisms. This is a COOK yall, I had fun writing this one

Reader here is replaced by dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

Beta read by @/slaypanda

"Stop crying already!" Ace finally snaps, tired of the ongoing crying of his youngest brother

"B-But that was Shank's hat; he trusted me to keep it," he cried.

"We'll find the damn hat now. Stop crying!"

"Ha. Don't worry, Luffy. There is not a lot of wind today, so I'm sure it couldn't have gone too far," Sabo sighs.

"O-Okay"

"It should be after to this hill; the wind couldn't have carried much farther with all the mountains here," Sabo mentioned, leading the other two over said mountain only to pause at the top.

"Sabo? What's wrong? Are you already tired?" Ace asked, rolling his eyes as he walked past him, only to stop as he spotted what made his brother pause in the first place

"Hey! He stole my hat," Luffy roared as he started barreling toward the child, much to the frustration of the other two.

Idiot

"Hey! You! Give me back my hat!"

Dokucha looked up at the shouts of the smaller boy, staring at him owlishly, a small arrangement of flowers between her fingers.

"Y-You're a girl!" he exclaims, taking a closer look at her.

"And you're a boy?" she answers back, confused at his proclamation, looking as Sabo and Ace catch up to Luffy standing next to him and staring at the girl.

"Ah, I'm sorry. You said this was your hat, right? I found it here; I didn't know someone was looking for it," she said, offering the hat back to the boy.

"Thank you!" He lets out a grin, taking the hat and placing it on his head

"Why are you wearing a cloak?" Ace questions, frowning at her attire, covering the top of her head to the tip of her toes

"Ace!" Sabo hisses

"That's rude!"

"Ah, it's okay, I don't mind," she waves him off with a smile.

"It's not a cloak; it's an abaya," she declared, standing up and giving a twirl to the boys, showing off the garment.

"And this is a hijab," she stated, gesturing towards the cloth covering her hair and neck.

"It's weird. Why do you wear it? Aren't you hot?" Luffy questioned, tilting his head confused, circling the girl, and taking a closer look at the garments

She chuckles

"Don't worry, it is quite comfortable; as for why I wear it for a few reasons, but I guess the the simple answer is to express myself."

"I don't get it," Luffy mumbled.

"That's because you're an idiot, Luffy," Ace muttered, shaking his head.

"No, I'm not!" he screamed, turning around to Ace, banging heads with him as the two began bickering.

"Umm, is this okay?" she asked, glancing nervously at the third boy.

"Ah, don't worry, they do this a lot, don't mind them; my name is Sabo, by the way, the one with the permanent scowl over there is Ace, and that's Luffy."

"I'm Dokucha! It's nice to meet you guys; I didn't know there were any kids my age around here, yokatta."

The two brawling boys stop Ace in the process of pulling at Luffy's cheeks as the latter pulls at his hair.

"You live around here?" Ace questioned, pushing Luffy off him, ignoring his whines as he did

"Umm, you could say that"

"It's either yes or no; there's no in-between," he barks.

"Ace!" Sabo scolds

"I'm sorry, Dokucha!"

"It's okay, umm, I am sorry, it is kind of an in-between; I do live here but don't?"

"Hah?"

"I umm.. I kind of just go around?" she tries.

"You... don't have a home?" the oldest questioned

"No..."

"Come stay with us!" Luffy shouted, running towards her and gripping her hands

She pulls her hands away from him, chuckling nervously; she bows apologetically.

"I'm sorry I - I don't feel comfortable with touching."

"Sorry," Luffy laughed, retracting his hands, his grin unfiltered by the confession.

"Come stay with us!" he repeated, this time pumping up his arms in excitement.

"Stay with you? W-Will your parents be okay with that?"

"We don't have parents," Ace cut in

"Oh"

"You don't either do you."

She shakes her head, a frown on her face.

Ace sighed, a small pout notable on his face as he looked away from the girl.

"You should stay with us... we live with the mountain bandits nearby."

She takes one look at his flushed face and covers her mouth, a small chuckle escaping her.

"I would love to".

"No"

"Come on, Dadan! Let her stay, let her stay, let her stay!" Luffy whined, swinging himself on Dadan's arms

"Absolutely not!" she shrieked, throwing the boy away from her.

"I will not have another brat to take care of! You snotted brats are already too much!"

"Come on, you old hag!" snarled Ace

"What did you say, you little brat?"

"Ah umm, excuse me," she tried to cut in.

"What?!"

"Umm, I brought you these; I just wanted to thank you for your time. I know it was a silly request, but it was worth a try, ma'am," she voiced, handing the previously assembled bouquet of flowers to the mountain thief.

Dadan grabbed the flowers, staring at the small girl agape when she suddenly turned around and stomped her way into the hut.

"This ain't charity, so you better pull your part around here!" she growled, slamming the door.

"Ah, does this mean.."

"Don't mind, Dadan, she tends to be like that; I'm pretty sure she likes you," Sabo reassured her.

"That was her liking me?" she sweatdrops

"She put up a bigger fight when I came along," he pipes in.

"Shishishi, she only took me because Grandpa wouldn't let her say no," Luffy laughed.

"Same here," muttered Ace

"She actually cares about us but prefers to act tough," Sabo clarifies.

"Oh, so she's like you, Ace?"

"What did you say?!"

I always second guess myself writing the younger selfs of these characters thinking they are going to be out of character but I think I did it, maybe

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

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nrdmssgs · 6 months

Text

Darker matters (part 5)

Masterlist Previous part Next part

Angst Pairing: Nikolai x Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova Summary: The fall of Chimeras commander Warnings: Non-graphical description of an act of rape of a person below 18 y.o. (this may be triggering, I'm dividing this part with red lines for your wellbeing), swearing.

Author's note: Krueger does nothing wrong! It is not his fault, Zhar misreads him. I would never make him do anything this ugly. He cant stand treason and has every right to question Zhars choices. I didn't add the saddest part just to make things more dramatic. I needed to talk about the reasons behind Olgas constant state of fear and helplessness. I promise, the next part will be more safe and happy. Thanks: My very important people: @siilvan, @homicidal-slvt, @sofasoap and @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot. And a very special thanks to @pale-elysium for the help with language and endless support.

Blue horizon and a darkening gray wall of blizzard, slowly but inevitably descending on her. She looks the man in a mask deep in the eyes and sees a power of nature, she fled from back in Norilsk. Now that Zhar thinks of it - that mission seems to have happened so long ago - she might as well call it ‘in a previous life’.

This man's eyes are nothing but cold wind and ice, hatred and hunger.

Olga didn't say a word, since he opened the passenger's door and motioned her to sit down. And this seems to annoy him more with every next moment of silence.

“You either start talking, or prepare to be thrown out.” Hoarse voice muffled by several layers of cloth and plastic, thick slavic accent.

“Spent much time looking for me?” She does her best to sound calm and collected. If this is the end of her - she at least won't make it pleasant for this man.

“Ne obol`shchaysya. Ty ele polzla.*” Zhar understands, it was not an accidental switch to Russian - he shows her, how much he knows about her. All this while she has no idea, who is she talking to.

“Nu i kak tebya zovut?*” Unable to stare into his cold eyes any longer, Olga looks down at his uniform. She is surprised to notice that he is wearing a flight suit. If it wasn't for her personal experience, she wouldn't know, this is a very unconventional choice of gear, until one needs a constant soft layer right on their skin to compensate the extensive pressure of hard shells.

“Nikak.*”

“Nikak…” Zhar pauses and clicks her tongue. “Oni posylayut za mnoi cheloveka, u kotorogo dazhe imeni net…*”

With one swift, almost untraceable motion he takes out a knife and, swinging it in a wide arc, stops it right at her neck - where the nervous tremor of her pulse is visible on the skin. “What stops us from killing you right now, mraz`*?”

Now that is a right question, that Olga asks herself as well.

“A few weeks ago you killed my informer on my eyes.” Cold steel presses firmer against her skin. “Then you did it again with another one… and again. You could have waited for a little and offed me in that very first car, you've burnt. Yet here I am, and I doubt, It's because Im so skilled or lucky. They need me alive. You have an order to teach me a lesson - not get rid of me.”

When she goes silent, the blade slides up her neck, slightly scrapping soft skin of her jawline and stops right under her septum.

“Why don't I leave a lesson right on this face? I could, after all, make you wish, I was allowed to kill you. Could make that guy, Nikolai, devastated…” Somehow he sounds calmer now, as if he found a solution to his dilemma and now works on the smallest details in his head.

Olga closes her eyes and sighs. There is this one idea: risky, on a verge of madness. But there is only one way to test it.

“Right inner pocket of my jacket. Keys.” The man follows her instructions and pulls out a key ring with a few keys and examines them, not moving the blade away from her face.

“House keys, not older than five years. Either someone recently replaced the doors or-”

“I bought that flat a few years ago. Still paying the mortgage.”

The man chuckles, “Are you offering me to rob you? Bring Nikolai some trinket of yours? You really thought, I could settle on that, idiotka*?”

“No.” She finaly opens her eyes. “This place is my home. Nikolai was there, he knows it well enough. You want to scare him? Burn that place to the ground. Show him, I have nothing left - ashes behind and ahead. I'll give you the address and make sure, nobody from my former colleagues finds out.”

He scans her face for a long time, searching for any trace of a trick or a lie. But as he slowly softens his grip on the knife - Zhar turns her face back to him, and he sees nothing but eternal weariness and terror. These are not the eyes of a soldier - these are the eyes of a prey, a deer in his headlights. So he asks one last question.

“Why help me?”

“I'm buying time. I need this meeting, this informer.” She wants to add ‘please’, but that would be the fatal mistake, so Olga bites her tongue and looks back at the snowstorm, raging in his eyes. “Out of my car. Now.”

***

“Let me check, if I got it clear.” Yegor scratches nose bridge, frowning. “You've finally got, where this Said-?”

“Sedmi. Like ‘the seventh one’ in Serbian.” Zhars eyes roam across Nikolai's office over the heads of Chimeras gatheredthere.

“Ok, you've got Sedmis location. And that is where they are keeping Nikolai. But instead of going there asap, extracting our leader and blowing the place up… We are to split and spend next week cleaning out random locations around the globe and taking pictures?” Yegor was usually the silent type, he was ok with many questionable operations of the Chimera. So the fact, that even he started asking the questions showed, how confused the whole group now was.

“You got it right.” Zhar still looks anywhere, but at them. “Tomorrow morning, each of you will receive coordinates. You go there, you clean the place, except for three people, I mentioned, you do your magic and bring me the proof of your deed done. And I-”

“And you off us one by one, while we are divided? Isn't that what Sedmi instructed you to do? Why don't you tell us our target locations right now, so there are no secrets, Lieutenant?” Krueger cuts her off, slamming his fists against the desk.

“I can't give you the coordinates, because I will never see them myself. It's safer so, since Sedmi is tracking me constantly. Whatever info I personally gather - he may find out. So the locations will come from intel department of Chimera - not from me.” Olga ran her fingers along the edge of the table, erasing a layer of dust.

“Commander, I don't understand. Taking over their base is a hard battle, but not an impossible task. Why wait, when every day can become the last for Nikolai?” Iskra tries to keep calm, but her voice gives out her annoyance. Everyone in Chimera are on the verge, and she is not an exception.

“Because a battle is exactly what Sedmi and others are preparing for on their base. And I'm declaring a war, soldiers! Now get up, go somewhere, where you can breathe, think about the difference, and make a decision, if you are ready to be a part of it, because after tomorrow there will be no way back.” Zhar stands up and turns away from others, letting them feel, that the meeting is truly over. She hears them sighing heavily and leaving the office one by one, all while she stares at some old aviation schemes, that Nikolai patched to the wall.

She doesn't move, when the door finally closes. A quiet, almost inaudible noise - someone's soft footsteps, doesn't escape her, despite a myriad of thoughts fighting in her head.

“Have any questions left, Krueger?”

“Only one: how do you like our commander's chair? Nice and cozy for your traitor ass, Hure*?” His voice resembles a low growl, a thunder, striking right above her.

Zhar is about to turn back to him and answer, but he gabs her by the back of her head and slams her face against the wall. The world around her fades for a brief moment and white-hot sparks are flying her in the eyes. She doesn't fight back, when Krueger takes her both hands in an iron grip behind her back, doesn't protect herself even when the wall under her skin becomes unnaturally warm and slippy. Sharp pain creeps from Zhars face to the back of the head and neck. The man is hissing his insults right in her ears, but everything, she can think about now is that she already was so helpless once…

“Doing it wrong, Sebastian.”

“What did you say?” He keeps pushing her into a wall, making it hard not even to answer, but to breathe in the first place.

Zhar feels a metallic taste spreading across her tongue. She doesn't even think straight, when her mouth formulates an answer. “Doing it wrong. Want to humiliate a woman, use her - you'll need to immobilize her legs, not her upper body. Using your weight to pin her against the wall will do the trick for head and shoulders, but if you want her to stay - you hold her thighs and press one leg behind her knee… Poor thing will never escape that.”

He lets go and almost jumps away in disgust. “Hast du den Arsch offen?! Du bist doch nicht ganz dicht! Was denkst du von mir?! Ich bin doch nicht pervers! Hat man dir ins Hirn geschissen?!*”

As he rushes out of Nikolai's office, leaving Olga alone, she slowly slides down the wall and ends up curled on a floor.

She knows, it's embarrassing to stay like that, when any soldier can enter this room anytime, she understands, she must be better than this. A hopefully temporal leader of a private military company, an ex-141, a Lieutenant, got recognized by no lesser than John Price… One moment she is ready to declare a war to a criminal syndicate, but then she is on the verge of tears, because her subordinate wasn't happy with her decisions. Embarrassing. Pathetic. Helpless.

The word ‘helpless’ keeps reappearing in her mind from the very first day, when she lost Nikolai. She kept pushing it away, but now, laying on the deepest bottom, she grips this word, this feeling, and searches, what triggered it a long time ago.

She felt like this before. Many years ago, in a previous life, when she still lived in Russia. Olga was still a teenager. A happy child, a spark of light despite having lost her mom and brother to street riots and the FSB suppressing them. She still had her dad, her friends, classmates, uncle Shura - not a real uncle, just an old friend of their family. As long as Olga remembered herself - he was always around: on every celebration, on family gatherings, even on her moms funerals. He helped her so much, was always there for her, always knew, how to make her laugh, told her heartwarming stories from his and her father's youth, had this giant for that time library in his flat. It was only natural, that she spent much time in his place after school, before her father came back home from work. Uncle Shura was always the safe person for Olga and her family. A friend.

Maybe that's why her brain just shot down, when it happened. The evening was so trivial - she did homework, sitting in his library, he was reading a newspaper, or maybe just listening to the radio. They were lazily chatting, laughing, Olga asked him something, and he pointed to a book on a far shelf in the corner.

When he pressed her against the shelves - she thought, it was some prank. And then her mind went blank.

She should have fought back, she should have not let him do it. Unkle Shura wasn't a big guy, nor was he fit or sporty. She could have escaped. Olga did nothing. Her body froze, every muscle clenched in a desperate attempt to become smaller, to hide. She only heard her own laughter and a phrase ‘this is so foolish, so silly’ being repeated on and on. She laughed and didn't move a finger.

Not until he stopped, helped her readjust her clothes and asked if she's ok.

Olga never told anyone. Not even to her dad, not even after so many years. This episode was buried too deep to bring it to the surface. But it never left her, not even now, when she admitted to herself, it really happened, and never was ‘just a nightmare’.

Slowly raising on her knees, she reaches Nikolais desk drawer. Zhar hates her body and her mind for keeping failing her. She needs to stop this flow of memories right now. Olga needs a human voice to keep her from giving up.

The screen of a burner phone turned on and an empty number entry field appeared before Olga’s eyes. Mentally going through who she could call, she brushed aside one name after another.

Price is forbidden - he will understand that something is wrong and will rush to help his best friend, and this could cost Nikolai his life. Johnny's a nice guy, but he'll instantly tell everyone she called. Laswell... No, too risky. Kyle is too precious to drag him to this dirt. Ri- no, she's off limits.

Zhar cursed under her breath: never before she was so desperate to hear anyone's voice and felt so alone. There was nobody around, no one, she could call. Her finger pressed one digit mechanically, then another one. She didn't even look on the screen anymore.

“Darker matters, you said? Should have listened to you sooner, Lt.” She mutters to herself, pressing the last digit and bringing phone to her ear.

In a deafening silence, a sound of a first beep seems too loud. But as the beeping continues, Zhar grows accustomed to it. She flinches, when she hears a familiar voice. It takes her a few seconds to muster a greeting.

“Its Olga. Can we talk for a minute?”

Ne obol`shchaysya. Ty ele polzla. - Don't flatter yourself, you barely crawled.

Nu i kak tebya zovut? - So how do they call you?

Nikak. - No name

Oni posylayut za mnoi cheloveka, u kotorogo dazhe imeni net… - They send a man after me, and he doesn't even has a name...

mraz` - scum

idiotka - idiot

Hure - bitch

Hast du den Arsch offen?! Du bist doch nicht ganz dicht! Was denkst du von mir?! Ich bin doch nicht pervers! Hat man dir ins Hirn geschissen?! - You lost your mind? You are nuts! What do you think of me?! I'm not some pervert! Are you completely brain fucked?!

Next part

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worldserasingandcreatinginmymind · 2 years

Text

Bloody Beetle | Part Two

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

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

Word Count: 2.8k

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

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

*Divider from @galacticgraffiti*

Part One | Series Masterlist

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

“I don’t… I don't understand…”

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

— — — —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is Layla, she… uh… she’s-”

“His wife.” Layla interrupts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep”

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

“Bingo”

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

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

“Layla-” Steven starts but Layla stops him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God I wish I could”

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

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

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

There’s another knock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Its a paper weight”

“Where did you get it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Marc Spector?” He questions.

“That’s not mine”

“Funny that. Fella looks just like you.”

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

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

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

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

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

— — — —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She's one too”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— — — —

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

“He did”

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

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

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

“Why would I kill you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part Three

Taglist: toracainz / pinkiestwinkie / malaanii / galacticstxrdust /

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

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

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