#Marc muse

[imxthexhandler]

📂📂📂📂📂

Send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon I have. ---------------------------

( @mcltitcdes- I couldn't decide if it should be focused on our PR AU or with the Moon boys, so...)

v: Cancelling the Apocalypse

The first person Amelia talked about Joshua was Alexis. After that, every K-Day, Alexis sticks by Amelia's side unless she's on duty so she doesn't have to be alone. The tradition expanded to include Sonny as the three of them became best friends.

Amelia refuses to fly (unless it is absolutely necessary) if Axel is not the pilot. He is the only one she trusts. To try and keep her calm during flights, if they're alone, Axel will bust out singing his favorite karaoke songs, with Amelia singing along with him. Their favorite is "You Really Got Me". Axel prefers the Guns n Roses version, Amelia prefers The Kinks.

Nearing the time of the attack on the Breach, Amelia noticed Pentecost's repeated missed calls and messages from his private medical doctor. She confronted him about it a couple of times, each time with him denying it. After he was suited up in his dive suit, Amelia confronted him for the third time. The two had a brief argument before Amelia tearfully told him goodbye and thanked him for giving her a new life with the PPDC.

Amelia waited a year after Yancy's death before she tried to reach out to Raleigh, knowing on some level what he was going through and wanting to spare him the same despair that consumed her. He never contacted her back, but every three months, she kept trying to send him messages- whether by letter, by email, or by phone.

Mako was the one to teach Amelia how to speak Japanese. She found out Raleigh spoke it similar to the same way Mako did. She stated to Mako in Japanese (with Raleigh present) at the canteen, sipping on coffee, "He's cute. His attitude needs some work and his brother was better looking, but he is cute." Raleigh glanced up with a completely serious expression, staring at Amelia, "Oh, you think I'm cute?" Which made Amelia choke on her coffee and hiss at Mako for not telling her that he knew Japanese. Mako and Raleigh still tease her about it.

Moon Knight and Mr. Knight

Once Amelia and Steven started seeing each other, Amelia began experimenting with vegan recipes. To get a majority of the Avengers to try them, she usually has to leave out the fact that it's vegan.

Even though Amelia will straighten up the flat while they are away on business for Khonshu, she will not touch Steven's books. She will make sure they do not gather dust, and will clean underneath them, around them, but she always keeps the stacks right where Steven left them.

Both Steven and Marc can be very distracting when Amelia is trying to work on something. Marc is much more dramatic and direct, but Steven is just as bad, he's just more polite about it. Damn those brown eyes.

When Amelia was first interacting with Marc and Steven, she had an easy code with them to know who was fronting at the moment. Steven's was asking about tea time; Marc's was discussing the Cubs.

Amelia spent the night with Steven first during their first date. The two literally spent the night talking until they ended up falling asleep on the couch together. Marc was the first to spend the night at her apartment, surprising her with dinner and flowers.

[7pleiades7]

Cleopatra and the Dying Marc Anthony (1763) by Pompeo Batoni (Italian 1708-1787), oil on canvas, 76 × 100 cm, Musée des Beaux-Arts de Brest

[moonshynecybin]

the thing is i think rosquez have the capacity to get much meaner and i for one think they should do it. let’s see how hard love can really lose. vale you aren’t in the paddock enough to worry about it that much baby girl i need you to call marc a cunt live on italian television next time he makes bez sit up on the bike with his tail between his legs

[ironman-tonystark]

I'm really worried about how excited Wade is that it's Friday the 13th. Do I need to call up that Moon Knight guy to deal with him today do we think?

[fornpt1]

my girls💗

[thexsanctuaryx]

Found In The Stars

{ CHAPTER ONE }

Summary: Even in the ancient world, many have stopped believing in the old gods, but not Marc Spector and his system. They still very much believe and devote themselves to one particular deity. So what happens when they come face to face with their patron goddess, Hecate? Without knowing it's her, of course... Pairing: Original Character { Emma Harper } x Marc Spector; eventually Emma Harper x Steven Grant && Emma Harper x Jake Lockley Contents: slight angst, kinda fluffy, pagan deities, ancient civilization ergo period, almost completely if not totally alternate universe for the boys, their characters have been taken and dropped into a completely standalone original universe Warnings: mentions of mental illness { DID }, brief mentions of being mistreated by others, self-loathing, self-blame, due to contents and nature of this series, the boys are pagan instead of Jewish, it is not intended as erasure, just a different story being told Author's Note: Hello there! I've been a part of this community for a HOT MINUTE but worried for a long time I couldn't pull off the boys. Well, I started writing them about a year ago now and they haven't left since. This is my first proper fic in almost two decades, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I've loved writing it. Thank you so much to anyone who gives it a chance!!! There are several others in the works! Word Count: 2k

He sits in the garden they’ve worked so painstakingly hard to perfect for her. Days upon days – no months upon months – patiently tending to the soil, caring for the various flora that occupy the now magnificent garden on the outskirts of his father’s land. Yet, as he looks around now, it still doesn’t seem like enough and already he plans out improvements.

It’s just after midnight now, a time which he’d always been taught is her favorite. And here he sits, in the middle of the flowers, knelt at the shrine they’d set up for her at the very center, prayer upon his lips once again.

“I’m sure you must tire of hearing from me so often—but despite the lack of news, I find myself always wanting to speak to you first.” He clears his throat, glancing down with a soft melancholy smile as he reminisces to someone he’s never met – a goddess no less. And even he must admit, it isn’t the most proper conversation to have with any deity, let alone one as revered as she is.

His tongue slips between his lips, lolling his head ever so slightly. “Steven’s better at this sort of thing, the propriety and what not, but I suppose that’s just one of my many pitfalls.”

He pushes out a sigh, “I know I maybe shouldn’t speak so casually to you—you are the key bearing queen of the cosmos after all—” He briefly pauses before continuing at his own expense. “I must seem a child with a silly crush…”

A light scoff forces its way through his sinuses, reaching a hand back to grip at the back of his neck. He squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. “It’s just that you’ve always been there—or perhaps I hope you have…”

He looks up at the sculpture he hand formed himself as he speaks to her now, pursing his lips now with indignation toward himself. His shoulders rise slowly and fall back down again. “You’re the first one I think to speak to in the morning and you’re often the last I speak with before I sleep…”

“So I suppose I just wanted to tell you…it’s my—our birthday today…” Another beat passes, frowning softly as he continues, “Which will be spent alone of course—” He pauses again to smirk softly at the silent statue. “Still waiting on you to send us that wife we’ve spoken so much about…” He teases.

He looks up at the soft curves of her face hewn from marble. “But it only felt right to spend the first moments of our thirtieth solar return with you…”

“Thank you for always keeping us under your careful gaze…”

A voice comes seemingly out of nowhere from behind the right of the shrine. “You speak to her as if you’re in love with her…” The soft somewhat raspy voice says. And as she steps out into the pale light of the moon, he suddenly wonders if he believes in angels instead of goddesses.

His face stills in shock as he struggles to find breath, even as she moves closer. She looks to be a handful of years younger than he, dressed in clothes that would suggest nobility.

She offers a soft, calm smile, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to intrude. I was on a late walk when I saw this beautiful garden and wanted to see it up close.”

It's in this moment, he begins to believe in his goddess more now than perhaps he ever has before. He’s almost certain that she’s the companion he’s prayed so fervently for all these years. A breathtaking maiden, stumbled in his garden at the precise moment he’s saying just such prayers.

She rolls her lips in, causing dimples to prick into her cheeks as she does her best to hide her amusement at his astonishment.

“Do you mind if I join you?” She wonders aloud, stepping closer to him.

He clears his throat, blinking rapidly to rouse himself from his daze. He shakes his head quickly, “not at all…”

She moves to claim a spot on the marble bench that rests just behind where he’s knelt at the altar.

He rises slowly, still stunned by her presence even as he makes to sit beside her. He’s surprised he can even find his voice at such a time, but introduces himself gently. “I’m Marc…”

It occurs to her then, that perhaps betraying her secret isn’t wise just yet. As smoothly as breathing she replies, “My name is Emma…”

He can’t help the smile that overtakes his lips at the sound of her name, and she only returns it with one of her own.

All at once, however, he looks troubled, “should you be out so late on your own?”

A gentle laugh escapes her, “perhaps I believe in your goddess just as much as you do—that she’ll protect me.”

“You shouldn’t--” The crease forms between his eyebrows.

“I shouldn’t believe in her?” She teases, looking a little too deeply into his dark brown eyes.

He scoffs lightly, quickly looking away from her intense stare. “No-- you should believe in her—forgive me I more meant—it can be dangerous to wander alone this late at night, I wouldn’t want anything to happen--” He squeezes his eyes shut, once again feeling as though his mouth has gotten away from him.

She finishes his sentence in the softest tone, her words in contrast sounding filled with confidence. “To me?”

He nods slowly, swallowing as he looks back to her.

As his eyes connect with hers once more, she can feel the years of pain that hide behind them. Moreover, she’s been with him through every moment of it and needs no explanation.

Suddenly she wants nothing more than to tell him exactly who she is, but knows it’s too soon. Such a revelation might only cause him to question his sanity as he so often has in the past.

She reaches a hand to gently rest over his, her voice remaining just as unimposing. “Will you tell me about her?” She asks, looking away from him to the statue he spent hours carving, never knowing just how close by she was.

He looks confused by the question, “You want me to--…” His brows furrow deeply again, trying to figure out this mysterious woman his goddess seems to have sent to him.

Emma looks back to him briefly and the gestures with her free hand to the flowers that stretch out around them for what seems like miles. “You built all of this for her, did you not?” She pauses, quirking one shoulder to her ear. “You must love her a great deal…”

Marc’s cheeks heat, though undetectable in the darkness that surrounds them. Another small smile tugs at his lips, glancing down at the ground. “It must seem foolish to love someone so much that you’ve never met.” He swallows, nodding. “Someone that many don’t even believe exists, and that others yet still fear too much to worship.”

She interjects again quietly, giving a feathery brush of her thumb over the back of his hand beneath hers. “But you don’t fear her…and you seem too close to her to diminish by using the word worship to describe your relationship with her.”

The corner of his lips tug upward, a sad look coming over his eyes as he continues to avoid her gaze.

In a moment of truth, he confesses, “she’s the only one who has always been there for me…”

Her heart squeezes in her chest, the love she returns for him seeming to all but swallow her whole. A breeze seems to rise in the air, rippling through the garden around them, a small physical showing of the way her heart sighs for him.

He takes notice of the change in the wind, a scowl coming to his features, unbeknownst to him, correct in his deduction, “perhaps she’s heard me.”

Emma can barely withstand the swelling in her chest, struggling to maintain her secret. Ancient as she may be, she finds it almost impossible to deny the love he's stirred within her all of his years.

“I’m sure she has…”

There’s a pause of stillness between them before she continues.

“What would you tell her if she could hear you right now?” She asks softly.

Marc shoots her an incredulous look, “As if you didn’t hear everything I said before making your presence known…” He teases.

Her heart seems to flutter, something she hasn’t felt in many millennia. She finds herself avoiding his gaze, feeling like the human maiden she passes herself off as now, and not the goddess as old as time that she is.

“If she were to grant you one wish for your birthday, what would you ask for?” She inquires.

At the shift in her demeanor, Marc wonders at the miracle that seems to take place before him. But then, she didn’t know the deep dark secrets he’s concealing. Any attraction to him would quickly fall away if she did.

Still, he thinks on her question. He pushes his lips out as his eyes travel to the shining stars  above that litter the vast expanse of the universe. He wonders if she’s up there watching over them this very moment.

“I supposed I’d want to meet her face to face…”

Her eyes widen ever so slightly, following his eyes to the heavens above. She’s almost completely dumbfound by this human man who wants nothing more than to meet her properly. A man who seems to captivate her ageless heart more and more by the second.

“You’d choose to meet her over asking for a companion?” She asks, her voice laced with bewilderment.

His eyes fall back to hers without moving his head at first, smirking softly. “So you were listening the whole time then…”

She can’t remember the last time she was so turned around by anything or anyone. At first, she mistakes his meaning for knowing who she truly is, her features contorting with a troubled expression.

“I—”

“It’s okay—you wouldn’t be the first to hear a personal conversation with her…”

She’s almost disappointed by the revelation that he still believes her to be a human maiden, who simply happened upon him in his garden in the middle of the night. She clears her throat with a bit more difficulty than usual, her eyes falling to the ground.

He squeezes her hand gently, misunderstanding why she suddenly appears so crestfallen. “It really is okay…--but yes, I think I would choose to meet her above all else. I have so much to thank her for, and I’d want her to know that she is loved, and that there is at least one person who isn’t scared of her…”

Her head shoots back up, her eyes wide as they look to his again. Another gust of wind blows through the garden, the moon seeming to glow brighter above them as she marvels over him.

Her eyes, almost silver in the light from above, seem to only draw him in, his free hand moving to reach for her face. The crease between his brows comes back, as his eyes battle hers, leaning in closer.

He speaks now as if lost in a trance, “Besides, what’s a lifetime with one woman over an eternity with a goddess…”

Her eyes fall to his lips as they move steadily closer to hers. All at once, he claims them with his own, the softness of them consuming her as her eyes flutter shut.

A meteor shower erupts above as she reaches for the wrist of his hand at her face, attempting to keep him there longer as her lips glide over his.

The kiss is brief and all too fleeting as he withdraws again, remaining ever so close as his eyes scale her face. As if sensing the deep and ancient power that resides within her, he whispers a winded, “Who are you?”

[cherrylng]

Guitar Princes - Part 2 [STYLE Series #004 - Muse (August 2010)]

The original prince of guitar is undoubtedly this man, Led Zeppelin's Jimmy Page. The length of his arms and legs, the way he held his guitar …… Everything about him was cool, and he was admired by men and women of all ages around the world.

Peter Frampton was popular as an idol during the “hard” era of the 1960s, and later had a string of hits with Humble Pie and as a solo artist. Peter Frampton is still active today after many twists and turns. He used to be cute.

The late Matthew Ashman (right), with his beautiful mohawk, and the members of Bow Wow Wow. John Frusciante, formerly of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, was an admirer of Ashman's.

The Prince of Glam is, after all, Marc Bolan of T. Rex. He was popular for his fine permed hair and slender, sparkling fashion. He lived with witches, died prematurely in a car accident, and there's no shortage of legends about him.

Paul Simonon (third from left) is the most legitimately good-looking member of The Clash, with each member having a different charm. His two sons, Louis and Claude, are also models!

Nick Heyward of Haircut One Hundred, drew a lot of cheers wearing an Aran jumper from enthusiastic female fans and caused a whirlwind in the genre of Funka Latina. Even now that he has become an old man, he still looks somewhat cute.

Paul Weller, the dashing, fashionable leader of The Style Council with Mick Talbot (left), who appeared at The Jam and became a solo artist and an influence to Oasis and Ocean Colour Scene.

The uncle who co-wrote Band Aid's “Do They Know It's Christmas” with Bob Geldof? No, no, it's Midge Ure, the “Bearded Prince” of the Ultravox era.

Scottish bard Mike Scott's cut from his Waterboys days. Many girls were attracted to Mike's appearance more than his deep traditional sound at that time.

Edwyn Collins was the frontman of Orange Juice. He may not have a beautiful appearance, but his unique guitar sound is still as appealing today as it was in the past.

Guitar Princes Part 1 Guitar Princes Part 3 Guitar Princes Part 4

[age-of-moonknight]

“A Little Chaos,” Moon Knight Annual (Vol. 5/2024), #1.

Writer: Dan Watters; Penciler and Inker: Marco Renna; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

[littlequeenies]

Christmas 1970 - Marc & June Bolan at June's sister Sandra's home, holding their nephew.

Very special thanks to Clare for sharing this gem!

[lunaxamans]

Part of a WIP I'm working on. A quick one of the boys trying to help their wife again when she's having a rough day.

Warnings: Mature but no smut. Mentions of severe mental illness. A touch of regression, Emma is 30 years old, do NOT come for me. If you don't like it, don't read it. Mostly just a comfort oneshot. Tagging: @romanarose cause I think they'll like it. And @campingwiththecharmings who I briefly told about it. Actually gonna tag my beloved @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction as well. Cause they might maybe like this too. 🥺👉 👈 And also @moonknightly && @spacecowboyhotch cause I know things have been tough and maybe some softies would help. Okay I'm really done this time. Again, this isn't finished yet but I wanted to share. Word Count: 673 and counting

EDIT: It occurred to me after the fact that maybe I should've included the translation for the last part. So roughly what he's saying is:

"Why did you dress for me if you don't want to see me, my princess?"

That is all...

[copingchaos]

Thinking about how Harrow let out 2 shots to kill the moonboys. Symbolically killing marc and steven,,,not jake though. Yet it ends up being precisely our man Jake Lockley who takes revenge on Harrow for Marc and Steven. Bc no one messes with his boys<333

[redlineoffate]

@therapardalis liked for starter

"You look like you've been meaning to tell me something for days. What happened? Did Steven or I do something we don't remember?"

[fluffyprettykitty]

So for next weekend....next week

[virtie333]

tell the people about Ask for the Moon? 👀

Ask for the Moon came about because, like so many of us, I really wanted a second season of Moon Knight. I especially wanted to focus on Layla and her relationship to Marc, and eventually the others. After all, he never did sign those divorce papers, did he?

I started it around the same time I started my current Damery WIP, and for a while I was going back and forth pretty easy. However, the Damerey story currently has me in a chokehold, so I haven't done much with this one for a while. But I think I'm nearing a good stopping place on the other story, so I'll be back with Layla and Marc and Steven (and Jake is still trying to hide, but Layla... well, she's not letting him get away with much).

“Coffee?”

She watched as his jaw shifted. “I need to be somewhere,” he finally ground out.

“Well, this means you won’t have to stop somewhere to get some.” She poured a cup and handed it to him. “Do you want anything in it? Marc likes it black. Or so he says.”

He took the cup, then took a deep breath. “Some cream, por favor.”

Layla nodded and pulled out the heavy cream that Marc kept on hand for cooking, though she suspected he put it in his coffee when no one was looking. She added a dollop to Jake’s coffee, then another when he just looked at her. He nodded after the second one and she put it back in the refrigerator.  

She watched as he drank the coffee slowly. He in turn watched her with wary eyes, but said nothing. With a sigh, she went back to the fridge and grabbed out some juice. Since she obviously wasn’t having breakfast with Marc this morning, as she had planned, she would just make some toast for herself. “How long will you be gone?” she asked over her shoulder as she popped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster. “Or do you know? Does Khonshu even give you that much before he takes you away from us?” She glanced over her shoulder. He was glaring at her now.

“Why are you still here?” he asked, his voice a low grumble.

She turned to face him, folding her arms over her chest. “I live here, now, Jake. With my husband. Deal with it.”

[thexsanctuaryx]

{ You Can't Stop Me }

Summary: Emma confronts Jake about their relationship as a last hope of getting through to Marc and Steven. Prompt: "You can't stop me." "Who said I wanted to?" from @prompts-and-circumstance

Pairing: Original Character { Emma Harper } x Jake Lockley; mentions of Emma Harper x Marc Spector && Emma Harper x Steven Grant Contents: angst, kinda fluffy, kinda friends to lovers, happyish ending Warnings: none? I don't think for this one Author's Note: Well hello again, I've recently been trying to challenge myself to write shorter one-off pieces as I tend to always end up getting carried away with things and struggle to keep them short let alone one-off. Not totally satisfied with this piece but practice? Right? Word Count: 881

She’d been through this with Marc, even with Steven. They’d both insisted that being with them was too risky, too dangerous given their world.

Marc hadn’t been a surprise, especially given his history and his issues with self-worth. He’d made every excuse about the dangers of being involved with him but she knew deep down that there was more to it than that.

The real reason that he felt so strongly about keeping her at arms length was because he believed he wasn’t deserving of love. Not after all he’d ‘done.’ Not after all that had been done to him was more like it.

She’d been lying when she’d agreed that they’d continue to be nothing more than friends. She couldn’t stop herself from something that had already happened what felt like eons ago. She couldn’t go back and erase her feelings for him, and she didn’t want to.

Steven had been more of a surprise to her when he’d sided with Marc. She thought surely he’d see sense. She knew he reciprocated her feelings. He didn’t exactly have the best poker face.

With Marc, she might even be able to believe that he didn’t harbor the kind of attachment to her. He was good at stonewalling after years of practice.

But Steven? She pushes out a guttural sound of frustration as she makes her way now to confront Jake. Her final hope of getting through to them.

Jake might be pretty good at putting up walls, concealing his true feelings, but he didn’t have the self-loathing that Marc did. And he was more open about how he felt in general. He didn’t hold back. Still, he was more reserved with her when it came to certain things, this being one of them.

She knows he’s fronting and she knows he’s home. He always texted to check in on her when he was in control. When he’d asked how she was doing, she’d simply asked where he was. He’d told her and them asked why, worried something was wrong.

So here she was, standing in front of their door, about to raise her hand to knock when the door swings open first.

He’d been waiting. Initially, when she asked where he was, he’d panicked, ready to leave in a fraction of a second to go to her.

Despite hiding his own feelings from her since the first time they’d met, it didn’t negate their existence. In fact, he was almost certain that he was the one that embraced them the most. He wasn’t keeping them from her to deny them, or even to agree with the other two.

He'd kept them from her because they were so powerful that he worried they’d consume him if he weren’t careful.

Somehow though, he’d known she’d be coming and he knew why. He’d paced furiously over the floor the whole time it took her to arrive. But as if sensing her presence on the other side of that door, he opened it before she could even make herself known.

There’s a moment of a standstill as they just stare at each other. She looks so furious there are tears in her eyes.

“I’m not gonna apologize for what I want or how I feel…” She seethes through a shaky voice. “And you can’t stop me. You can’t stop me from loving you—from being in love with you—”

His response is immediate, cutting her off before she can continue, his voice deep and smooth.

“Who said I wanted to?”

She chokes back a sob, her chin dropping as she shakes her head.

Jake is quick to close the distance between them, fluidly moving into her space. He raises his hands to cradle her jaw, lifting it to look in her eyes even as they squeeze shut, cascading more tears down her cheeks.

“Look at me, nena…” He gently commands.

She coughs out another sob as his thumbs brush firmly at her tears. She opens her eyes pleadingly on his.

His heart aches when their eyes meet, knowing exactly what the other two had done to break her heart.

“I don’t want to. I don’t want you to stop feeling the way you do, because I feel the same way about you…”

Emma pushes out a disbelieving and unsteady laugh of another sob, “y-you do?”

He nods slowly, looking her directly in the eyes and leaving no room for doubt. His voice is low and strong.

“I love you too.”

He wastes no more time as he leans down, finally capturing her lips for the first time.

She all but melts into him, her legs almost giving out as her lips move slowly in time with his. Her arms slip up around his neck, releasing a shaky breath into him as she does her best to keep herself upright.

His own tension begins to drain, releasing his hold on her jaw in favor of lifting her into his arms. He carries her back into their apartment and kicks the door shut with force, refusing to let her go long enough to give it too much attention.

His mind briefly thinks on the other two, but only how intends to make his stance known.

Waking up beside her the next morning should be convincing enough.