#now that I have a voice claim for Layla | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hyperfixiation-station · 8 months

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Welcome Home

Based off this post by @simon-rileys :))

Pairing: GhostxReader

Summary: Picking Ghost up from the airport after 3 month long mission with your 4-year-old daughter. What could possibly go wrong?

I did write this on my phone, so please please please let me know if there are any errors. And, as always, no beta!

"Layla!" You say sternly, "stop running around, you're going to get hurt." Your 4-year-old daughter completely ignores you, just giggles and keeps running in circles around the baggage claim.

You sigh and shake your head, grinning ruefully. You can't blame her for her excitement. After all, she's going to see her dad after 3 longs months away. You'd be running around too if your body could manage it. Your heart rate quickens in anticipation at the thought, and you bounce up and down for a moment before getting winded and going back to monitoring Layla.

You watch her little braids with pink bows at the end flop up and down as she runs, zig zagging every which way. Oh well. As long as she is in your sights you can't get too upset. You shake your head as she squeals again, barely dodging an old man as she makes another lap, her chubby little legs never running out of energy

Where she gets it from, you'll never know. You certainly don't have that much energy. Especially not now. You laugh to yourself, looking down at where the small but obvious bulge in your stomach is, the sign of life that you have so carefully hidden with one of Simon's hoodies. Your hand strays to your pocket to touch the ultrasound photos, the ones you got a week ago when you went to find out the gender. You run your finger nervously along the edge of the photos, equal parts excited and anxious to tell Simon you are pregnant again.

You still remember telling him when you were pregnant with Layla. He'd been home at the time, and you had been absolutely terrified. You weren't even married at the time, and had never spoken about wanting kids. You almost had a breakdown when you handed him the positive pregnancy test and he just stared at it in silence. That was, until he looked up at you with a genuine smile and tears in his eyes and asked you to marry him. He didn't even have a ring.

Distantly you hear your daughter shriek, snapping you out of the memory. Your head shoots up, eyes wide and searching for her little form. You rake your eyes over the room, but you see no sign of a brunette in a little pink dress.

"Layla!" You cry, hurrying towards where you heard her voice, at the junction where the wrong terminal meets the baggage claim, "Layla, stay where I can see you!" She doesn't respond, and your heart rate picks up as you start to list off the worst-case scenarios.

"Layla!"

Ghost steps off the escalator, lips twitching under his mask. He had gone the roundabout way, take an extra 15 minutes to walk all the way to the other terminal, just so he could surprise his girls.

Gods he can't wait to see them. Yes, 3 months was really not that long compared to some of his other deployments, but to him, anytime spent away from his family felt like torture.

He never thought he would end up like this, a wife and a kid and a figurative white picket fence. It had always been in the cards for him to die alone. Or at least, he thought it was. And then you forced your way into his life, gave him something to fight for, gave him something worth living for. And gods how he loved you.

He hears a familiar giggle and freezes, snapping out of his reverie. He trains his eyes on the end of the hall, watching the crowd for you and Layla. Sure enough, a little pink ball of destruction comes hurtling around the corner, running full-speed for him. He drops his duffle bag to the ground, and waits for you to show, brow furrowing when you don't follow behind her.

He doesn't have time to dwell on it though, as his daughter appears before him in all her pink, glittery glory.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" She shrieks, launching herself at him. He wraps his arms around her, and hold her tight to his chest inhaling deeply. He can feel her small shoulders shaking, can hear her sniffing, can feel her tears on his neck. Guilt overwhelms him for a moment, self-hatred overpowering him for making her cry. Its gone in an instant, his frown vanishing as Layla places a sloppy kiss on his eyebrow, his cheeks are still covered by a mask.

"Daddy!" She squeals again, burrowing her face in his chest. "I mithed you!" Tears prick his eyes at the sound of her voice. He forgot how much he missed her adorable little lisp.

"I missed y' too, baby girl." He presses his forhead to hers for a moment before looking up, his eyes scanning the hallway for you, frowning again when your still not in sight. "Wh're's y'r mother?"

"She was being thlow tho I lef' her." She informs him, grinning happily as she plays with his dog tags, her head resting against his shoulder. He grins, closing his eyes for a moment as he savors the feeling of his daughter in his arms.

"She's slow, huh?" Ghost huffs, shaking his head at his daughter's antics, "well then le's go meet 'er."

Layla grabs at his face, shaking her head rapidly, looking a serious as an over-excited 4-year-old can manage.

"She has an 'uprise for you." She informs him solemnly. He tries nto to laugh, knowing shes trying to be very serious, but fails. She frowns, squeezing his face with her chubby little hands.

"I'th no' funny." She says crossly, " Mommy 'as an 'uprise for you."

"A surprise?"

"Yeth." She looks around, eyeing the strangers in the terminal before leaning next to his ear, "I'm not appothed t' thay nothin', but-" she breaks off into peals of laughter as Ghost covers her mouth with his free hand.

"If mommy says you're not supposed t', then y'r not sup-" He pauses, hearing your frantic voice echoing from around the corner, "y' didn't tell y'r mother where y' were goin', did ya now baby girl?"

She at least has the decency to look ashamed, hiding her face in his jacket as she shakes her head. He laughs softly and shifts, bending to pick up his duffle bag with his free arm. His daughter clings to his neck, her head buried in his chest as he moves down the hallway, heading toward your panicky voice.

"Layla where did yo-"

"I've got 'er luv, dontcha worry." You freeze in your tracks as Simon rounds the corner, your daughter in his arms. You stare at him wide-eyed, drinking in the sight of him af6er so many months apart. He's in a hoodie and jeans, a black mask covering the lower portion of his face. His dogs tags are out, Layla twirling them in her fingers. He looks exhausted and scruffy, his clothes dirty and torn, but you could care less. Just the sight of him alive and well is enough to make you cry.

He drops his bag to the ground and kicks it out of the way, opening his free arm to you. Tears well in your eyes as you launch yourself at him, wrapping you arms around him and Layla. His arm wraps around you and yoi feel him lean bacm, pulling you slightly off the ground, gently swinging you side to side before setting you down.

You stand in his embrace for a minute, face pressed into his side, savoring the feeling of being in his arms again. Your shoulders begin to shake, tears slipping from your eyes as you inhale deeply, the scent of him like manna to your soul. You let out a small sob and tighten your grip, digging your fingers into his side. You stand like that for a few minutes, a little family reunion in the middle fo the hallway, you sobbing silently while Simon rests his chin on your head, Layla's heel digging into your ribs. You pull back a moment later, rubbing a hand across your eyes as you inhale shakily.

"I missed you Si'." You laugh wetly, looking up at him. He doesn't say anything, just grabs you and pulls you in again, your head resting on his chest. Your daughter's chubby hand moves to rest on your head, her fingers twisting your hair into painful knots. You don't notice, to focused on trying not to cry again.

"I missed y' too luv." He murmurs after a minute, his chest rumbling beneath your forehead. He holds you for a few more seconds before stepping back, his eyes suspiciously shiny. "Now Layla says y' have a surprise f'r me?"

"That I do, dove." You sniff, rubbing your nose with the the back of your hand. You look down, biting your lip nervously as you take another step back. You slip your hand into your pocket, fingers closing around the little bundle of photos.

"Y'gonna expla-" His voice trails off as you pull the pictures from your pocket, handing them out to him. You watch as he gently sets Layla down and takes a slow step forward, his movements almost reverent. He takes the photos from your waiting hand, his eyes growing wet as he studies the photos of the 4 month old baby you have growing inside you. He can't read them, but he knows what they represent. After all, he has one of Layla's ultrasound photos in the pocket of his vest.

"Is this-are you…"

"Yes." You laugh, your voice thick, "we're having a baby boy. In April."

He laughs, a rare, genuine one, and sweeps you up in his arms, spinning you around in a circle. He sets you back down but doesn't let go. His hands slide down to your waist as he leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes close as your arms wrap around his neck, and he exhales shakily, the warm air making your eyes flutter. You stand like that for what feels like ages, forehead-to-forehead, just breathing in the other's presence.

"Mommy!" You are brought back to the real world by your daughter, who is standing with her hand on her hips and glaring at you, "Th'op hogging daddy to yourthelf! I wanna turn!"

You chortle softly, stepping back from Simon. He huffs and shakes his head, giving you a very 'she gets this from you' type look. He scoops her up as she squeals, positioning her on his hip. He crouches and grabs his bag, hoisting it on his shoulder before grabbing your hand amd interlacing fingers. You step forward, tugging him behind you as you lead him out of the airport and back home.

"Was it a good surprise?" You murmur as you walk to the car.

"Very, luv."

"I'm glad. How would you feel if I tell you we're having twins?"

So here it is, a month later than promised @simon-rileys @dwkfan , sorry 'bout that

Lemme know what you think :)

#look at me #writing something nice for once #enjoy before i sucker punch yall im the guts again #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader #no beta we die like men #cod #fluff #ghostfluff #ghost cod #call of duty x reader #call of duty #screaming crying throwing up #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley

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eumppattv · 10 months

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CHRISTMAS TRADITIONS | ot7 enha

pairing ot7 x reader genre ᩍ fluff, established relationship warnings ꕁ slight cursing ➜ masterlist a/n: requests are open :)

heeseung mario kart ☆ ⊹ ๑

christmas is the only time of year that heeseung wakes up before 1pm. the reason for this is not because of the presents under the tree, but because he gets to take out the nintendo switch, and absolutely destroy you at mario kart. your first date was during christmas, where you played the game for over an hour. so now every year, you have a little competition. at first heeseung is eager to win, but by the end he’s purposely messing up. why? because he loves when you try to be all cocky after you’ve finally beat him. he thinks you’re too cute when you smirk and boast about how you’re better than him.

jay singing by the campfire ☆ ⊹ ๑

obviously jay is going to bust out his guitar any chance he gets. that is why every year, you gather around the campfire with the rest of the boys, and he plays while you eat smores. you of course have to feed him his, because he’s too occupied. then after the boys leave, you both stay out a while, with jay singing for you as you snuggle up to him, trying to keep warm. he sings some christmas songs, and you try to join in though you always say it won’t sound as good as his amazing voice. and of course part of the traditions would be your voice cracking, and jay laughing about it for the next year.

jake dressing layla up ☆ ⊹ ๑

you’re not sure how this tradition started, but it had turned into a vital part of you day. every year, you and jake spend time shopping for christmas outfits for layla, but keep them a secret from each other. then in the morning, you take turns dressing her up and sending her running down the stairs for the big reveal. at the end you vote for which outfit was better, and that person has to pay for dinner. let’s just say; you haven’t paid for dinner in years.

sunghoon going to the ice skating rink ☆ ⊹ ๑

i think sunghoon just likes to see you suffer, because every year he swears you’re getting better at skating; and every year you fall on your ass. still, he lives for the way he has to hold your hands and guide you across the rink. first you’d make sure to wear cute matching outfits, with each of you getting to pick every other year. then he’d teach you a couple warm ups that you have memorized by heart. at the end he’d want to race you across, but he would purposely mess up so you win. he’d then brag about how well he’s taught you, and how you should be paying him back with kisses.

sunoo baking cookies in matching pjs ☆ ⊹ ๑

one thing about sunoo is he loves his matching pj sets, especially the christmas ones. he’ll get pjs with reindeers on them, and insist you wear them. so every year, you wear your pjs and bake cookies- usually plain chocolate chip. although one year he made you try mint choco cookies, and that didn’t go well. you always make the cookies on christmas eve, so you can wake up and run to the kitchen before you open your gifts. sometimes sunoo wakes up in the middle of the night and grabs a few, claiming it was santa claus or ni-ki.

jungwon decorating your tree ☆ ⊹ ๑

yes you and jungwon spend hours decorating your tree, but the real tradition comes after you have opened all your presents. every christmas, you spend the morning opening your gifts, and the afternoon out at your favorite vintage shop. there you pick out one christmas tree ornament that represents you both for that year, to signify another year together. then the next christmas you add that ornament to the tree, and the cycle continues. jungwon says it’s a symbol of your ever growing love each year.

ni-ki snowball fights ☆ ⊹ ๑

i’m thinking like that one spongebob episode where they have the crazy snowball fight. you would go out, and spend a whole afternoon in the snow. he would try to build a snow fort to protect himself, while you desperately tried to sneak attack him. then you would hit him and he’d fall down dramatically, saying it actually hurt a lot. he would wait for you to comfort him, and then when you’re getting close he would throw a snowball at you and run away laughing.

🝮 taglist open!

@avocarua @kpoprhia @haechansbbg @yeehawnana @lilly-bubblelops @aishigrey @gweoriz @soul-is-a-strange-kid @dior-girlie @gigification

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winniethewife · 10 months

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It's undeniably real (Layla El-Faouly x The Moonknight system x Reader)

Chapter 7: And we kissed, as though nothing could fall

Warning: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort (yet), gun violence, abduction

Last Chapter ~ Next Chapter

Words: 1093

Sometimes I swear that in the silence I can hear everything come crashing down. I can see them, their loving deep brown eyes looking at me, they know I didn’t mean to, I can’t control this. Our life hangs in the balance, I just have to tip the scales…

This was not how I expected my return to Egypt to be. I thought about going through the markets with Marc and Layla, eating snacks and laughing, going on tours of temples with Steven as he told me everything I could ever want to know about everything, andI’m sure Jake would have taken me dancing anywhere music plays, his hands on my body as we moved to the music…But that wasn’t the case. Instead we were here to take out a dangerous cult, “The cult of the Jackal” they seem to barely have a goal or mission stamen besides causing chaos and attempting to assassinate anyone with a decent amount of power. They claim to have some Tie to the God Anubis but Khonshu assured Marc that the god of funeral rites had nothing to do with them. They just have delusions of grandeur.

I lay on top of the building sniper rifle in hand as I watch from a distance as Marc and Layla talk with an informant. Waiting for a signal. I feel the edge of the numbness in my mind. I was learning to ignore it but it wasn’t easy. I watch through the scope of the rifle as they argue. I have no idea what’s happening but Marc is managing to keep his cool, I can tell he’s not pleased with something they said. Layla however is unreadable, her fake plastic smile fools most. I take a second to scan the area for threats again, as I scan I hear something behind me I turn around to see one of the cultist’s gun aimed at me, I move as quickly as I can but as the shot rang out I feel a sharp sting in my shoulder, my hand goes to the spot where I felt the sting feeling the wet gush of blood. As I pull my hand away, I see the blood on my hand. The dark red color burned into my mind as I feel myself start to loose consciousness, in the distance I hear yelling, Layla…Marc…I hear them, but I can’t focus, I feel my body lifted over someone’s shoulder. Everything goes dark.

“You said you knew where they were located. And now you’re telling us you have no idea where they are?” Marc was sick and tired of these people and their ever changing information. As the guy starts to speak and make excuses that’s when they hear it, A gunshot. Marc turns towards the sound and watches in horror as the scene unfold. He watches as the cultist lifts her over his shoulder and turns to leave.

“NO!” He shouts as he starts to run to her. The voices of his alters fill the back of his mind with panic but he manages to block them out as he runs at a break neck speed. He hears Layla scream her name behind him as they boths start on the chase following the cultist with their partner over his shoulder. As they move through the city just as they think they are going to catch him, the cultist throws her into a car and they drive away.

“Fuck NO!” Marc stops in his tracks and feels his heart breaking.

“Give me the body amigo, I’ll get us a car, I’ll get her back.” Jake urges and Marc can’t find a reason to argue. He watches as Layla starts to chase the car and he feels the weight of everything.

“Go, Jake go.” He mutters as he feels himself fall back into the headspace letting Jake to the front.

Jake followed the car furiously through the streets of Cairo, Layla swears she’s never seen him this mad before and she’s been the one he’s been mad at more than once. She’s has a death grip on the seat underneath her. This was her best friend, the wonderful woman that she had spent her whole life by her side and all she could do was pray that Jake kept on the car in front of him, and that she was still alive.

Layla races to the back seat to find her, pale, eyes rolled back as she breaths shallow fading breaths, Layla pulls her in, not caring about the blood, pulling her down as bullets fly around them. She looks at her wound, Clean shot straight through the shoulder, shattering her collarbone and shoulder blade. She’s gotta get to a hospital as soon as possible. Layla ripping her shirt padding the wound, trying to stop the bleeding as quickly as she can.

“Please…Hold on for me Habibi…Hold on…” She mutters as they speed along the street. To her surprise Jakes hand slipped into hers, He gives him her a quick glance before refocusing on the road, she catches a whisper on his lips.

“Voy por ti mi amor. Haré que esos bastardos paguen.” Jake looked determined like nothing in the world will stop him. However on the inside He was scared as hell, thinking a mile a minute. They wouldn’t take her if she was dead, but they’d been driving around in circles for too long, depending on where she was shot…He couldn’t think like that. He squeezes Layla’s hand before letting go and turning the wheel as they follow the car down an alley before they finally stop. Jake doesn’t think twice, jumping out of the car and summoning the suit in one fluid motoion as he races to the driver’s door.

“I’m here, we’re here, it’s going to be okay…It has to be okay.” Layla softly croons as she tries to not let the situation get to her. “I love y-you, God Damn it I Love you. You can’t leave us like this. We’ve got so much to do habibi, So much life left to live. Damn it live!” She cried as she holds her lover in her arms. Finally the bullets stop flying and Jake appears.

“Let me take her, Let me take…Layla we have to move now! Vamos!” Jake insisted as he takes their lover in his arms and rushes to the car. They only had so much time. He looks at her frail body in his arms. They have to make it, He’ll never forgive himself if they don’t.

Translation:

Voy por ti mi amor. Haré que esos bastardos paguen.: I'm coming for you my love. I'll make those bastards pay.

Vamos!: Lets go!

Masterlist

Taglist: @redeyerhaenyra @summonthesoups

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luciddreamingcrow · 2 years

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Playable Character Au p.1

---Song recommandatteon for today is BITE by Troye Sivan---

Sumery: in this au, you the reader, are a playable character/nps in which the fanbase have made their own ships with other characters based on voice lines, canon inteactions, popular headcanons etc. :D

A/n : Ones again I apologize for not updating as frequently as I want to, for a long time I didnt have any inspo and I started school again, again Im so sorry for my long absence I promice to start posting more frequently <3

Cyno

The General Mahamatra

Voicelines

About Reader:

I've met reader around the first year when I just started to study in the academia, we relied on each other to keep ourselves sane and awake during these years, now even outside of work we hang out quite frequently going to the same spot in sumeru city to play with my cards and order the same food as last time, the loser gets to pay for the food, lets just say that they may or may not have a 5 winning streak, and not because they are good at the game.

About Readers Reputation:

Reader is a individual that demands respect opon first sight and will not hesitate to show it, but outside of their personal workplace they are actually really humorous and a trustworthy companion that’s more than willing to take a bullet for people they trust, come to think of them they are surprisingly rebellious whenever the sages want their way, insisting in treating a situation as any other regardless of ones status, its really entertaining seeing how Reader puts the sages in their plase with no hesitation.

General sumery about your relationship with said character:

Your status in the academia is a simple but a respecteble one, basically you are the second in comand of the Matra organization(operation?idk how its called) you are mainly tasked to deal with paperwork, searching info and data about students that have broke the rules and traked down by Cyno, and more oftentimes than not you have to deal with students that have cheated on their tests/exams or iligal use of caned knowledge

What the fandom thinks/though:

At first when you were announced fans had mixed feeling, the Twitter part of the fandom as they always do, they complained, other casual fans were pleased and didn't mind that much. As for the shipping part of the fandom surprisingly at first Cynder (the ship name between Cyno and reader) was considerd as a rare pair being overshadowed by Cynary and Cynolu. But when voicelines, canon interactions, ect were leaked, the shippers whent WILD. Withing some days the Cynder tag was THRIVING, fanart, fanfiction, canon content👏you👏name👏IT. Yes there are some toxic shippers ESPECIALLY on tik tok were saying that Cynder doesn't work cuz "it ruins their fav ship"🙄 some even claimed it was a "proship" 😃, but honey ignore them, they don't know whats good.Jokes on everyone cuz in later events it was extremely hinted that it was canon also lets not forget about the study dates that he takes you on <3

Layla

Fantastical Evening Star

Voiceline

About Reader:

Reader? OOoooh, you mean my roommate, right? I really enjoy their company, quiet iet so energetic and loud, I dont really know how to explain it but on one second you can see them running errands for the rest of the students with a smile on their face and on the other they are speed running their forgotten homework for next class, they really have to start to manage their tasks and start getting their life together.

General sumery about your relationship with said character:

You and Layla are roommates and most of the time you make sure and by make sure I mean forse Layla to go to sleep earlier and make food for the both of you, and whenever you accidentaly fall asleep she makes sure to do some of your work so you wont burn yourself out, and yes some times you two blast music and sing in your shared dorm just cuz you guys had too much energy one night, the next morning both of you regretted it instantly.

What the fandom thinks/though:

The first thing that came into the fandoms mind is that Layer( the ship name between Layla and reader) is that the both of you fit the sun-moon trope (Layla- moon, reader-sun) and stuck with it, refusing to change its mind. And most people just accepted it, though its not really popular its not considered a rare pair either is just in the midle, and it has enough content to satisfy the Layer shippers^^, Also not to mention the unholy amount of hurt/comfors fanfics there are👀, as canon goes theres a good amount of scenes with Layla from your hangout to support the ship as "hinted as canon" by mihoyo.

#Spotify #fanfic #fanfiction #self insert #cyno genshin impact #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x you #cyno x reader #cyno x y/n #layla x reader #layla genshin impact #playable characters

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sirianasims · 10 months

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After being dropped off, Cora is standing in front of the apartment door in San Myshuno, afraid to knock. Zane’s words from the car ride are still ringing in her head. But she has to do this.

She knocks.

Aidan immediately opens, almost like he has been waiting by the door. For a few seconds he just stares at Cora like he’s seeing a ghost.

“Aidan… hi. It’s me. I…”

Cora’s voice falters. Aidan stares like he is in a trance. Then he pulls himself together.

“Cora… Zane warned… told me you were back.”

“Please, come in, let’s talk.”

The first thing Cora notices is the picture wall. Zane warned her in the car, but still. It’s different to see it with her own eyes.

“You’ve… been busy…”

Cora can barely get the words out.

“Busy?!” There’s a rough edge to Aidan’s voice. “Busy? Are you being serious right now? You disappeared, you… I was investigated for murder. Can you even imagine?”

“Aidan, I…”

“There were headlines, Cora. ‘Unhinged sci-fi author claims girlfriend was taken by aliens‘. Can you imagine what I went through?”

“Not only was I heartbroken that you were gone, terrified that you might be dead or never come back, but on top of it all, people treated me like I was insane or a murderer. Thankfully, your parents believed me. And Zane, and, yes, Layla.”

“I see. How lucky that Layla could be there for you the second I was gone. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, you’ve always been…close.”

“Cora, you just showed up pregnant on my doorstep, how can you act like I’m the only one at fault here? Yes, Layla helped me through it, but your absence also made me realise how badly matched you and I were in the first place. I loved you, but you were so… difficult. With Layla, everything seems simple. She makes me happy and I don’t have to fight for her attention.”

“It’s been two years, Cora. We… I insisted we waited a full year, as if the aliens were going to bring you back on some sort of messed up anniversary. I even asked your parents for forgiveness for moving on. What would you have me do?”

“I don’t know… But I guess you’re right, maybe I was a pretty terrible girlfriend. I guess we got together by accident and then just… went along with it.”

“I’m glad you’re back safe, Cora. I’m sorry. Maybe – maybe we can be friends again one day, but right now… I need to focus on my wife and son.”

“I get it. I’m sorry too. Bye, Aidan. Say… say hi to Layla for me…”

As Cora leaves the apartment, Zane is waiting for her.

He smiles sadly.

“I figured you’d need a ride after this. And maybe a hug.”

Cora says nothing, just sobs quietly into Zane’s shoulder.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen2 #cora duchelli #aidan martin #layla brown #zane fyres-munch #THERE WERE HEADLINES CORA

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mushroomwitches · 1 year

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Okay so I am very adhd and have like a ton of drafts started for some fanfic ideas and wanted to focus on one to start with, but I wanted to get peoples opinions because I’m also very indecisive! Below the cut I will explain each option I have that I’ve started to help!

Slight Spoiler warnings

Option 1: okay so this idea is inspired by mamuro-chiba-ua ‘s artwork here on tumblr, though I have seen other talk about in on here, but their artwork and Au made me start to wonder how being the uncle to Vivi would effect buggy! This would focus on buggy as he goes about his life and would be a cross guild (crocodile, mihawk, and buggy! )

Option 2: for whatever reason kaveh and Alhaitham give me the swan Princess vibes. So this story would follow kaveh as he is captured by Dori and given to a mysterious man who changes him into a paradisea by day, only allowing him to return to his human form at night to build for him. Can Alhaitham save him or will he be trapped forever ( featuring Tighnari, collei and Layla as the others trapped with Kaveh and also turned into animals, Cyno as Alhaitham friend and Faruzan as the overly annoyed and sarcastic advisor to Alhaitham )

Option 3: so this one could either be gigolas or aralas, both work and I am a multi shipper who loves both options! I could also tweak this and make it a throuple if anyone is interested in that. But basically I was a total band kid and feel like Legolas would be a color guard member. Now if I do Gimli, that boy is definitely a percussionist, and I would say I could see him in the drum line as a bass player. If it’s Aragorn, I am a little more torn on that, I could see Aragorn as either a low brass player or the drum major! Basically a fun marching band AU (specifically based on DCI (drum corps international) which goes to 21 so they would all be over the age of 18!)

Option 4: so I’ll set the stage. Bilbo is the lead in the local theater companies upcoming production of Les Miserables (could totally see him singing who am I, like the voice of the original Jean Val Jean just fits in my head). But oh no, Bilbo’s babysitter ( *cough cough* Gandalf) didn’t show up and now he has to bring baby frodo with him, but he has to practice. So he call Bofur, his friend from college to see if he could come to watch frodo while he’s performing. Bofur agrees easily, but is also currently dealing with a brooding Thorin after a really shitty date and decides to bring him with. Thorin isn’t thrilled, claiming to hate musicals and only like his metal and stuff he can play with the rest of the band, but sees Bofur won’t let it go and agrees to go. He goes right in time to watch Bilbo practice the who am I song and just is like damn. Basically meet cute here and then just follows their life from there with all of life’s up and downs (plus cute little kids with frodo, fili and kili)

Option 5: okay so shanks and buggy give off like such ex energy, and I just love the idea of they got like married real young and got divorced a year or 2 later because they both wanted different things, but they are forced together like 20 years later (either a job, event, taking care of roger who is sick, something like that) and being to fall in love again!

Option 6: so I feel like this is pretty self explanatory. Basically I have begun taking both the hobbit and lotr and putting them into the star wars universe! The hobbit would include ships like bagginshield and lotr would include ships like samfro, Aragorn x Arwen, and gigolas!

But yeah feel free to answer the poll and comment or pop into my inbox with any questions!

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lollipencil · 11 months

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Little Moon

I've had this idea for a while, so long I can't even remember how I first came up with it. Anyway, it's time to finally get it out of my head. I really hope this one's ok.

Enjoy and be gentle. ---

Layla paced in front of the fish tank. Five days. Her husband has been missing for a whole five days now. "It'll be ok," Taweret soothed from the bed, "Khonshu isn't the sort to let this go."

That at least was true of him. He'd seemed quite perturbed by the artifact he'd sent Marc to retrieve reacting in such a way. "They are not dead, but elsewhere," Khonshu had assured before vanishing.

So it was a waiting game.

Mercifully, Layla didn't have to wait much longer after she'd decided to get ready for bed. Khonshu was on the bed as she came out of the bathroom. "Have you found them?" she rushed towards him. "Indeed," he nodded, "The situation is more complicated however." "How complicated?" Taweret appeared by Layla's side.

Khonshu sighed and told his story.

---

A field greeted Khonshu, moonlight cast over rows of grass. While this earth was very different from the earth he called home, Khonshu could feel his avatar's presence. Striding through the grass, he soon found a small structure. Before he could grow nearer, his avatar found him.

A small form hopped out from the greenery, large eyes holding intelligence but no recognition. "Who are you?" the rabbit asked. The voice was not Marc Spector's, nor Jake Lockley's. It was akin to Steven Grant's but it wasn't him either. "I am Khonshu," he greeted the new soul, "and you are?" "I don't know, the others have taken to calling me 'Inléroo'."

Khonshu titled his head: "Do you wish to claim it as your name?" "I," he paused, "I do." "Then so be it."

Inléroo relaxed minutely. "I think, yes," he muttered to himself, "it was his voice." "What about my voice?" Khonshu leaned down. "When I woke, I had no memory. I was like a kit. But then I looked up at the moon and I heard it. You. 'Protect the travelers of the night.' And I knew, deep in my bones, that it was my purpose." "Oh? And how have you been fulfilling this task?"

"The others," Inléroo explained, "They are looking for a new warren. One of their group is injured and they've been travelling day and night to avoid danger. Only just rested in fact." "I see," Khonshu was impressed by this new priest. Small as he may be, he had the right amount of dedication.

"If I may, my lord, could you grant me a answer?" Inléroo hopped closer. "Depends on the question." "Well, one of the others, Fiver, he said that I had 'three elil souls' sleeping within me. What does that mean?" "Even before you, the body was shared by three. It also was human, not a rabbit. However, while they may be men, they are no enemies of you or your companions. That I can assure you," Khonshu laid out.

Inléroo shuffled his paws in the dirt. "When they wake up, don't hide. Let them see you," Khonshu commanded, "and engage with them." "As you wish my lord," Inléroo accepted, flattening himself on the ground, "I should get back to the others now." "Of cource. We will meet again."

And, waiting until Inléroo had vanished once more into the grass, Khonshu left with nothing but a gentle gust of wind.

#my fics #crossover fic #moon knight (2022)#watership down #layla el faouly #taweret #khonshu

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imasimpforstevengrant · 2 years

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THRICE (Chapter 1)

Summary:

Marc Spector has no idea how troubled he truly is....and will be. Three times cursed: prisoner of his mind, prisoner of the will and deceits of a vengeful god and prisoner of a love he cannot fully bask on. Loving Layla El-Faouly had been the hardest and most wonderful thing Spector has ever faced in life.

After his deal for freedom, he once more relishes the joy of his marriage to Layla, as his coexistence with Steven Grant becomes harmonic. His former servitude as the avatar of Khonshu, the Egyptian God of the moon, does not come at a small price. Little does Marc Spector know his newfound happiness shall be soon shattered, as Khonshu has plans to reunite the three of them.

Notes:

This written work contains several references from the comics and takes a lot of inspiration of them. This fic looks to "adapt" a few Moon Knight stories from my own personal selection.

Word count: 2.657

Sorry for any typos, since my first language is not English (Chilean spanish for the win lol)

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, pre, during and (mostly) post Moon Knight, flashbacks, blood and violent content ahead, supernatural themes, very sensitive issues, strong sexual themes, light BDSM, mild voyeurism, Dom/sub undertones, male insecurities, heterosexual sex, very, very explicit sex scenes, dirty talk, DID, existential/identity crisis.

Chapter summary:

Marc Spector is still haunted by his sins. Memories of an experience near death, becoming the High Priest of Khonshu and falling in love still siege his dreams, though his services have concluded.

-----

FIRST PART.

The man under the moon (Marc)

Dessert serves as the anteroom of hell. A silent martyr is about to be formed. Injured and hardly able to walk, Marc Spector leads his steps towards an ancient temple. Death is a breath away from claiming his existence.

Moonlight enters the sacred place, enlightenment gives it a special aura. Marc can feel a cold, deadly shiver crawling up his spine. Like a dying animal, Marc crawls slowly.

All those people murdered. Because of greed and his own incompetence. The faces of the executed victims devastate his mind, contributing to his final emotional disintegration. Blood stained and disgusted at himself, Marc is willing to pay for his sin. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to gather enough willpower to pull the trigger. Peace was one bullet away. Until a deep, otherworldly voice echoed through the temple.

"What a waste."

He froze, loosening his grip on the gun.

"Huh?" Was all he could articulate, terrified, instinctively eyeing towards the direction.

The horrid, ominous voice pronounced itself again.

"I feel the pain inside of you"

Confused, Marc frowns. He wouldn't let fate mock his misery.

"What the hell are you?" he demanded, surprised at his courage to demand an answer.

Marc couldn't avert his eyes from the gargantuan, anthropomorphic statue holding a staff, with petrous solemnity. The moonlight rays added a bluish hue, contrasting with the darkened zones.

"I am the god Khonshu… in search of a warrior" he finally replied.

A loud scoff emerged from his mouth.

"A warrior" Marc at least found it funny, "Well, good luck with that."

The voice didn't stop there. Whoever it is, it now proposes an offering, despite Spector's shameless derision.

A quest for a champion, a warrior to become its hands, eyes and vengeance. Marc kept his eyes shut, unable to ignore what that mysterious being was saying, as if it was the devil itself talking him out of his suicidal intentions. Protect the innocent, who he called 'night travellers' at all costs by punishing ruthlessly those who meant them harm. Only the undeserving ones.

"Do you want death or do you want life?"

The mercenary seemed to forget he was a breath away from being a corpse. What was so elegantly spoken was nothing but a devil's deal.

"I don't know" he mumbled, cast down.

"Your mind, I feel it. Fractured. Broken. Most fascinating. You are a worthy candidate to serve me during this time" the voice suddenly pronounced about his tormented psyche.

The moonlight undoing the darkness suddenly nests the idea of redemption. Even if that meant abandoning his humanity. Reducing himself to a tool to pour the blood of all of those deemed unworthy.

With an ominous voice, an oath echoed. Marc Spector would arise as the powerful last word against those who commit evil deeds. A benign monstrosity to diminish mankind's suffering through his own ordeal.

Or maybe it was just a way for him to keep being what he had always been. A killer.

"Yes," Marc Spector swore, with an honourable last breath as an atonement for everyone he had wronged.

A sudden shiver ran through his being, sensing the painful rebirth renewing his strength. A glowing whitish hue took over his dark irises, arms open to embrace this new identity as a vessel of justice. Soon, he was fully enrobed with an imposing, fearful armor that granted him immortality.

From then, oblivion would be a rare joy, constantly wishing to fail and so, meeting the natural end that should have never been altered. There was no life in him, just a deeply disturbed individual, an artist of survival.

The healing ended up being a curse.

-----

Blood.

Red, extended stains replaced mostly the light hue of sand. His eyes widened at the looted small village, looking for the answers in the several corpses surrounding him. Those were the first things to be shocking enough to bring him back into the moment. Wails and screams go unheard while regaining control of himself but it was always those crimson droplets, like wounds on the silvery armour that reminded him of the merciless slaughter.

“What the hell happened?” his voice could only articulate. Despite his (new) majestic and gallant appearance, he still felt vulnerable before that hated uncertainty. He gasped, seeing golden, sharp moons over dozens of men, piercing eyes, ripping throats. A crimson festival of guts, and horrified expressions in their faces. He saw himself in a broken mirror from another, unfortunate victim, laying dead with a couple of scarlet holes in the chest.

All of them saw two glowing, white eyes before meeting a gruesome end at his hands.

“Behold your deed, my Moon Knight. Those widows live because you have accomplished your task as a vessel for my will,” Marc heard that voice again. Scared, he looked up. His heart beats with the fury of a war drum. There was satisfaction in his voice. His eyes, glowing with a beautiful white, crescent moon are now dark as an abyss. Hood and mask also fade.

A whitish silhouette appeared as he looked back. He quickly turned around just to look up to the sky, a full moon embellished the celestial vault that so many horrors had he seen.

Marc suddenly realizes his hands are filled with blood and chunks of meat. One still holds the clothed neck of the unlucky man, from whose smashed skull still drips gory lumps of flesh. He gasps in disgust at himself.

The gurgling sounds and overflowing blood from the mouth of his victim soon end. If Marc hadn’t looked back at him, he wouldn’t have noticed it. Guilt nests in his heart.

Did he really rip off all those lives in such a horrific way?

This deity stares at his work from above, the height accentuating his grim appearance.

“Every single one of them deserved it, Marc. Remember it”, Khonshu descended from the tall columns, almost comforting the consciousness of his avatar. He brought a waning moon staff even taller than him.

It was that horrifying hybrid with a human body and a giant, vulture skull for a head.

A moon-shaped staff in his hand, bony and wrapped in worn out bandages finally confirm that this wasn’t a dream. Khonshu did not give life back to Marc Spector.

He just had turned him into an walking, murderous sarcophagus.

Violence, insanity and death had always been the bane of his existence. The cold flavour of whiskey helps to cope with the horrified expressions of those slaughtered in the village. Even cheerful sounds coming from outside the Egyptian bar reminded his nightmares, imagining the distorted faces howling in horror.

Another sip distracts him. He preferred a cold drink, combating the suffocating heat in the Middle East. Whenever he's not fighting, his thoughts dwell with murky truths.

Being the living tool of a vengeful god had its tolls on the little sanity he had left. Sleepless nights saturated his brain with the weight that meant to be not only Khonshu's mortal last word against evildoers, but also posing as his High Priest on Earth. He ruffled his hair, trying to enjoy the fucking drink.

He had the opportunity to catch a sight of himself in a mirror that night, as he could remember from his nightmares. Marc Spector, togged in a ceremonial armour, designed to inspire terror by contrasting with the darkness of the night. A spectre that didn't hide. A spectre that knew beforehand that, no matter how much of a good target he was, they would never stand a chance against him, for none of them would hit the moon.

It spoke thousands of words about the baleful nature of that entity he now served.

His private and quiet suffering seems irrupted by a local hubbub. Marc turns his head toward the noisy multitude. It was outside, in the market place. Maybe just another altercation between merchants, and back to sipping more of the whiskey.

He left a few bucks on the table and left. The hot weather burned his skin, obliging him to look for shelter. Shadows offer freshness, to keep diving in his personal hell.

Nightfall darkens the sky. Marc doesn't see the moon, he just sees the eye of Khonshu watching over his life.

"I've seen your past tormenting you," the beaked, mummified creature croaked from the shadowed corner of the room. Marc almost threw his drink over the table.

"Do you have to appear like this every time we talk?" He hissed.

"Evil doesn't rest, Marc. You made a deal with me to protect night travelers in exchange for your life"

"I know what I did. It's not easy to deal with all the those people killed"

"I will repeat it only once, Marc Spector. Those fallen under your hand deserved to die"

Marc closed his eyes, trying to wash away all those horrified faces.

"Cease this pointless guilt. It will only make your task more difficult"

"What do you propose?" Marc asked.

"Look at the looted tombs. Innocent blood claims for justice. Do what you must, Moon Knight" and with these words, the deity disappeared into the night.

Soon, Marc Spector summoned the ceremonial armour, flying over the Egyptian sky to find himself near the place that changed everything in his life. There was a convoy of four jeeps, all of them driven by Arabic speakers. A cold shiver froze his spine when he recognized that familiar voice.

"Look at this. Look at all this fucking shit" an angry complain was all he could get clear from the murmur.

Marc peeped out of the dune, seeing Bushman carrying a rifle on his shoulders while smoking a cigar. He was walking around a small bonfire, apparently speaking with a few men near him.

"If it wasn't for that fucking insurgent, I wouldn't be in these newspapers!" Bushman screamed fiercely, "now all of Egypt knows I'm riding tombs, and all because one man decided to play noble at the last moment!"

The vigilante gritted his teeth.

'Killing the witnesses wasn't part of the plan, you piece of shit!" Marc wished to reply.

"Spector was never the guy with a conscience. Why did he suddenly care for one life when he murdered dozens?" He sat, placing the weapon at his left, "he was this close to becoming rich and he chose to turn against me at the last minute. Too bad nobility doesn't save you from a bullet"

One of his companions started speaking in Arabic, but Marc understood perfectly.

"One of the victims…"

"What?" Bushman growled, irritated.

"Abdallah El-Faouly."

The soldiers turned to each other, seemingly agreeing with the familiarity of the aforementioned man. They kept speaking in Arabic, constantly repeating a name related to the deceased man. Marc's face starts to contort in horror, deducing what is going to happen.

"What's with that woman?" One asked.

"It's his daughter," another replied, " I've heard she used to work with Abdallah during his expeditions in tombs. She's known to cause troubles in the black market recovering stolen relics."

Bushman remains thoughtful, rolling the cigar between his fingers.

"Do you know more about her?"

Marc didn't breathe to hear it.

"Her name is Layla El-Faouly. Look in the center of Cairo, merchants will offer valuable information for a good price," the first man added.

Bushman smoked a long drag of his cigar, to then toss it seconds later. He chuckled, and Marc knew too well what it meant.

"Find her and kill her," he dryly ordered, "I don't want any loose ends."

Before the men could retire to rest, Marc Spector soon flew back to the residence he inhabited. Regret starts consuming him, despite his efforts to put his thoughts in order.

It was the daughter of the man he tried to save. Oh, fate had its ways to atone people's sins. During all night his mind spent thinking on everything he could do to avoid her death. Marc couldn't let Bushman claim another victim. Dawn arrives and with the first lights filtering through waving curtains. Determination gives him strength, and at a steady pace, he walks out of the room to fulfill his mission.

The marketplace was overcrowded, which made it easier for him to sneak out, looking for any suspicious activity in the locals. Masking himself with typical clothes, Marc pays attention to every move, every whisper, every gesture.

Suddenly, he recognised one of the men in Bushman's convoy. Marc got up when he saw him calling a merchant, with a picture in hand and a bag of money in the other one. Luckily for him, they went to another room to discuss El-Faouly's daughter's whereabouts. Ear stuck against the wall, he hears the conversation in Arabic:

"People have seen her in the tombs, looking for answers for what happened in that raid" the man pointed out to the pyramids, visible thanks to the window at their left.

"Is she married? Children? Any other relatives?" The other one asked.

"No. She's Abdallah's only daughter. An archeologist. People around here won't be angry if she disappears. Maybe they will thank you for taking the matter in your hands" and then, immediately, Bushman's affiliate paid the man, who leaned his head as a sign of respect. Marc hid in the wall separating the bathrooms and halls. Just five armed men, moving through the city in a jeep. He had to be quick, not getting attention, at his most silent.

Bushman's associate didn't reach the door once Marc shot him in the back. He didn't care about the sharp swearing, placing the knife in his throat. He warns him about a quick death if he shares vital information.

"Tell me more about El-Faouly's daughter" Marc hissed, twisting the knife over the left side of his neck. But he did not get any answer related to Layla, which only increased his anger.

"I saw you– you're– you're dead!" He screamed, terrified, "you died in the desert! How is it possible?!"

"There are a lot of things you won't understand. Tell me about her!"

"It can't be–"

"Speak!" Spector spits, impatient. Things got more difficult when the man, convinced he was seeing a ghost, began to scream for help. Spector beats his ribs, breaking them with heavy, bloody fists. The man tried to call for help, but only muffled sounds came out of his mouth.

"Speak or I swear I'll leave you in the desert! Now tell me if that man said something about her location" Marc growled, carving a painful wound, causing the information to flow.

"People have seen her sneaking into tombs… Bushman– called to ambush her in an Egyptian tomb once we knew her whereabouts– Shoot to kill, at all costs… Her situation helps to go undercover."

"Son of a bitch" Marc hissed, his blood boiling. The man stared at him, puzzled.

"Why do you suddenly care so much for a woman now? You didn't hesitate to kill dozens of people back in Sudan, Jordania–"

"Shut up! Shut up!" Marc hissed, covering his mouth.

"You won't atone your sins by saving her, Spector… you're just an insane, murderous bastard, as Bushman said"

Marc gritted his teeth, slitting his throat. A puddle of blood formed on the floor while taking off his weapons. While looking for more ammo, he found a flat object that turned out to be a picture. Marc takes the photo to have a closer look.

There was this lovely woman, dark skin, curly hair cascading down her shoulders, a sweet smile curving her pink, glossy lips. Marc felt he had been hypnotized. He slides his fingers down the picture, in an instinct to touch her. There was a dedication, written in Arabic, at the reverse.

"My little scarab,

August 13th 2016"

Marc thought in the possibility it had been looted in the raid, alongside other belongings. He kept the photo to recognise her, wishing it wasn't too late.

#oscar isaac moon knight #oscar isaac #may calamawy #marvel moon knight #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockey #layla el faouly #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfic #moon knight smut #marc spector x layla el faouly #steven grant x layla el faouly #jake lockley x layla el faouly #moon knight imagine #moon knight fluff

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barrenstars · 2 years

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𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝙸𝙲𝙾𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 !

hello ya’ll it’s me, poloma, finally making this post after being reminded like five times by space over the course of like two months. i decided to try my hand at doing icon commissions given that i do almost all of my own ( except for the few lazy comms i’ve made ) and i actually enjoy it! it would be nice to make some extra cash as well because of the cost of living crisis where i live and everything is going up in price, and i mean everything. so if you’d be interested or want more info then read below the cut! reblogs are VERY much appreciated! ♡

( steve rogers voice ) so you’ve read below the cut? well, thank you for even wanting to be nosy! or if you’re here because you’re genuinely interested then i’ll get right into it. i want to start by stating that i will not screencap or make icons for any problematic actor / actress. the same can be said for some fictional characters, but i’ll let you know if i’m uncomfortable capping for any character or actor / actress, but i tend to be very open about stuff.

please note i only have access to uk netflix, disney plus, crunchyroll, and hulu ( and maybe a few other websites like them ) so if your face claim or character of choice isn’t from a show from any of these platforms then please provide me with a website that i can watch it on. i can use youtube and am willing to rent films if provided half the payment!

moving on from that let’s get into the pricing. ngl i understand that people can be put off a lot by prices and it’s not like i’m a graphics blog and can do a shit ton more than just making caps and slightly editing them ( and on a good day making a cute and simple icon border ) so i plan on keeping my prices low and affordable, simply because i enjoy doing this, so it’s not the type of “you pay for my time” situation. below are my icon prices!

50 base icons £5

100 base icons £8

150 base icons £12

200 base icons £15

and so on and so forth! if you’re wanting lighting adjustments then i’ll probably slap on an extra two pounds or so given that requires me going through each cap / icon and editing it individually. now, moving on from that, i think a few examples of my work is in order? so i’ll toss some examples of manga icons i’ve made and some caps from some shows i’ve had open recently. ( there are no examples of any webtoons or manhwa, but i think you can kinda get the idea of things from the examples below! )

example: phanora kristoffel from the manga the witch and the beast.

example: steven grant from marvels moon knight.

example: sabaku no gaara from the manga naruto.

example: musa from the netflix show fate: the winx saga.

in addition to making icons, i’ve decided to also do screencap comms! purely because every icon maker has their own way of making icons, they cap and crop and edit differently and i’ve noticed how some people prefer their icons up close and personal or with certain angles, which i totally get. ngl, i’m the same. if you’re not too sure what i mean i’ll provide a little example below.

so here we have the absolute love of my life, may calamawy as layla el faouly. in this single cap alone you could get three, maybe four or five icons if you messed around with the angles and sizing. and, of course, i took the liberty of making another example for you all because i am never too sure if what i say makes any sense.

as we see here it’s the same exact cap but just positioned differently, which is easy to do if you have an icon border with all the little nooks and crannies. so the option to commission caps instead of icons is there, an alternative if you will, if you’re not too fond of the way i make my own screencaps or the angles i use!

please note this option works best with realistic face claims as manga caps, webtoon caps, and manhwa caps can be tricky to work with. if you’d still prefer this option with a non-realistic face claim i’d have to flicker through the manga / webtoon / manhwa to see if i can work with the artwork to create big caps that work well enough without ruining the quality.

but if you’d prefer icons but like having multiple icons of the same cap ( like above ) then that is also an option, but i will charge for each icon instead of each cap. so if i make three icons from a single cap alone i’m charging you for the three icons instead of the cap ( does this even make any sense ) unless you’d like to pay for extra. honestly, anything goes. i’m open to discussing it if nothing i’ve written makes sense. so if you’re interested or have any questions then shoot me a dm and i’ll get back to you!

#GENERAL. / signal boost #icon commissions #reposting this on here!!

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satisfiedmoonwatcher · 2 years

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Blessed by Ammit - Part 4

Summary: What if Harrow captured Layla instead of her rescuing Steven in London? Layla has an opportunity to find freedom. Will she take it? What exactly are Harrow's plans with her? Is she ready to find out? Just how deep has Harrow taken her?

Warnings: 18+. Contains: Corruption, lactation, enlarged breasts/nipples, enlarged clit, overstimulation, masturbation, voyerism, exhibitionism, fucked silly, Vaginal penetration, non protected sex, creampie, cumshot, dubious conscent due to brainwashing, Brain washing.

(Psychological manipulation due to cult worship going on. So big TW for cult stuff.)

Word count: 6,506 - Dirty talk

Pairings: Layla x Harrow

Part 1 Here Part 2 Here Part 3 Here

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

She overheard the murmurs late at night.

Sitting alone in her room, she was growing used to her only personal contact being with Harrow. He made sure that he was the only real person that she ever spoke with. Her other interactions were always a blur of emotion and sensation as she carried out her duties to his people.

Soon to be her people. It was getting hard for her to know what her own thoughts were compared to the thoughts that Harrow gave to her.

I am hungry. This was a thought she knew was hers. Something she could own. Yet even this she could not do anything about. She ate when Harrow brought her food. Even this thought was taken from her as he gave her simple meals and often watched her eat them.

I want… This thought drifted around her and lost all meaning. She could not want anything. Harrow gave her everything and there was nothing to want. He controlled what she had and what she wanted.

I am Layla. It was her last shred of person. Even her body was not her own. After Harrow had finally claimed her and filled her, the body became an object to her. Something else he owned and controlled. She only filled it and let it do what he wished of it.

Even this was being threatened. He had sensed that time was lacking and in times when she was most vulnerable, he stressed the fact to her that she was just a vessel. She was a gift and only that.

When she heard the loud talking outside of her window, she initially rolled over and attempted to ignore it.

“...Ammit will be with us soon.” A voice cheered. Excitement was too much for the voice to contain.

Layla slid out of bed and crept to the window. If they saw her, they would grow quiet and leave. No one was allowed to speak to her or even gaze on her without Harrow’s permission.

He had started to allow those that were deemed ‘worthy good souls’ special permissions to get closer to her. They would pleasure themselves over her while Harrow watched from the back of the room. His gaze alone was often what sent her over the edge, bringing them her unique gifts of filling them with love.

The idea of interacting with someone now without Harrow there scared her and thrilled her. She cracked open the window and stood just out of view, listening as they spoke.

“He has been putting together a group to go to Egypt with him. When Ammit is free, he will bring her to us!” The voice again rose in excitement.

Another voice hushed him then murmured something she couldn’t quite hear.

“He promised that our Divine Gift will be filled with the power of Ammit. She will devour the evil souls and spread love to those who are worthy.” The first voice sounded smug. “I’ve felt her love myself recently. I can only imagine what it will feel like once she is truly inhabited by Ammit.”

Layla pushed the window open and leaned out. “What do you mean? Inhabited?” She called out.

Two men looked up at her with wide eyes. “Praise to Ammit!” They responded and knelt down.

“Please, what did you mean?” She wanted to climb out of the window and demand that they explain themselves. In the back of her mind she knew that not that long ago she would have done just that. It would have been easy to slide out on the ledge and climb down the drain pipe to them. Now, the idea of leaving her room without preparation first made her hesitate.

The men jumped up and ran off, averting their gaze from her.

She sighed in agitation and moved to pace the room. Harrow had long claimed himself to be Ammit’s Avatar. He carried her powers in his cane and judged people. He was Ammit’s scale. One of her tools.

He had mentioned to her once about how he looked forward to seeing her feed on the souls of the wicked.

She trembled and looked down at her body, her fingers going to trace the dark mark of the scales on her abdomen.

She went to the bedroom door, her hand pausing on the handle. Slowly she opened it. The hallway was dark and empty. She had never left her room without Harrow’s permission. It struck her as odd that the door was unlocked. Had it ever been locked? Had she tried to leave on her own before?

She shook her head, trying to rid the voice that whispered for her to stay and be good.

Once out in the hall, she felt a part of her break free. I am Layla. She quietly turned, her bare feet silent on the stone steps as she moved to the front door. Her heart pounded as she pulled it open and slipped out into the open night. Run run run run.

She rushed down the steps. She was so used to stepping out into the crowd that it felt wrong to not immediately be met by someone crying out for her blessings. It felt wrong not to hear Harrow’s crunching glass behind her.

She ran blindly. Moving down the familiar path until she got to the town center. Her chair was still set up, waiting for her. Waiting for her to provide her milk to the collection vats and her love to the waiting crowd while Harrow judged them.

Layla hesitated, her hands going to her chest and feeling the weight of her breast. She had been milked heavily earlier. She estimated that she had until tomorrow early afternoon before the pressure would become painful again and demand another milking.

She glanced around at the dark town. What was she doing? Where would she go? She was in the middle of a village in the mountains and she was naked. Was she expecting to run down the mountain and not die of exposure to the elements? Even if she could steal a car, what then? Where would she go when she didn’t know how far Harrow’s reach went?

Tears rolled down her face as she tried to decide what to do.

“The fear of the unknown is often what drives the sinner to take their first steps to be wicked.” Harrow’s voice whispered across the courtyard and she turned to find him standing there.

She took a step back and looked at him fearfully. Would he be angry that she had left?

Harrow walked slowly to the platform and stepped up. “I loved the night as a child. The quiet and calm it brought. Away from prying eyes and pain.” He circled the platform once then raised his arms as if addressing an invisible crowd. “But then my eyes were opened. The night didn’t bring peace. It hid the wicked. The evil acts only turned to the privacy of their homes behind closed doors and windows. The cowardice of the truely wicked.”

She looked up at him, his audience of one. He moved to look down at her, his face tormented in a private pain.

“And then there was Khonshu. I fell into him believing that I alone could seek out these sinners. That I could cleanse the night and bring back the peace. I was gifted with looking into their darkened windows and knowing what they had done. Seeing their evil clear as day. It never ended. His push to punish and punish and punish.” He sighed and closed his eyes, lost in a memory.

A memory stirred for Layla as she recalled her husband sitting alone in the living room, face in his hands as he settled down after a long night with Khonshu’s demands.

Harrow shook his head. “Why wait to punish a deed? Why not stop it from ever happening? Don’t wait for them to hide in the dark. Weed the garden before the flowers are strangled.”

He moved to sit in the chair on the platform. “I don’t hide in the dark, Layla. I am here in the open.”

She stared up at him, her feelings swirling in her head. “Am I going to be sacrificed to Ammit? Is she going to take my body as her own?”

“Would that not just be exchanging one prison for another?” Harrow leaned forward on his cane. “A god would never be satisfied in the flesh of a human. No human could ever hope to fully contain a god without both beings suffering.”

“A tool then? You wish to turn me into nothing but a tool to be used.” She eyed his cane, her hand moving to stroke over the scales on her flesh slowly.

Harrow gave her a curious look. “Is that not what an Avatar is? A tool to be used by a god? I am willing to be used in any way she deems fit for me. I would be so lucky to continue to be useful to her. How would you like to serve Ammit?”

Layla crossed her arms and glared. “I never asked for this.”

He nodded. “No. You didn’t. Yet you took to it so well. Look at you. Can you imagine returning to whatever life you had before? No one to gaze at you the way the people here do. No one to follow you. Knowing that you are surrounded by evil and wicked people.”

“Evil according to you.” She huffed.

“I don’t hide in the dark.” He looked at her a moment then leaned back in the chair. “You can go if you wish. Nothing is forcing you to stay.”

“Right now? Just walk out like this?” She laughed. “I’d die out there. Some choice.”

He smiled. “Tomorrow I can have someone drive you into town. Make sure you get a plane to anywhere in the world you want. It really doesn’t matter. Soon Ammit will be found and free. Her reach will span the globe and you will watch the world be cleansed of those filled with evil. You will see things as they are then.”

“Someone will stop you.” She looked down. “Marc will stop you.”

“Marc is not fit to stop anyone. He is lost in his own pain. He doesn’t care about you. He can’t even decide who he wants to be.” He grinned as if he knew some private joke. “When he came to this town not that long ago, he brought chaos with him. Carnage. Right here where you are standing. He killed the good people here just so he could take something that wasn’t his.”

She couldn’t help but glance down as if she might see herself standing in a puddle of blood.

“You’re wrong about him.” She stubbornly spoke up.

“Am I? You don’t sound so sure.” Harrow looked at her for a moment. “When he left you, did you fantasize about him returning to you? How he would walk back into your home with some excuse about a long mission and mistakes? How he would take you back into his arms and call you pet names while kissing you and holding you with his bloody hands? If only you knew the carnage he has caused. The secrets he hides.”

“Your hands are twice as bloody!” She shot back. “How are your scales any better? Have you ever tried to balance yours? Judge yourself?”

“I know where my scales sit.” Harrow smirked. “Do you want to judge me yourself? Perhaps you will become your own hero? Devour my soul as your first meal. I would give that to you willingly. I know my work will be carried out in my absence. I know you will crave more souls to feast on once you know the true path to paradise.”

She stared up at him. Could she judge him? Could she kill him so easily as he did so many others?

She took a step forward. It would be easy. Lay her hands on him. Feel the shift of the scales on her flesh and then…

“No. I want to leave.” She looked away. “I refuse to become a pawn of Ammit.”

Harrow held out a hand to her. “I promise you that if you still feel this way tomorrow, I will let you leave. You are truly a spirit beyond any I have met before.”

She hesitantly stepped up to the platform and he took her hand. “So beautiful. So dangerous. Tell me… I must know where you plan to go. I only wish to see you safe. I don’t know what I would do if anything should happen to you.”

She shivered at his kind words. “Home. I would go home.”

“To Cairo? To London? Which home? You haven’t been back to Cairo in so long. There is nothing for you there. Nothing for you in London, either. Marc will not survive the balancing of the scales. I would hate to see him tarnish you further with his lies.” He stroked a hand over her shoulder gently.

It was easy to let his voice wash over her again. So soft and soothing. It had become such a presence in her life over the past few weeks.

He leaned in and whispered softly to her. “And what about your gifts? No one out there will tend to you. Drink your blessed milk… Feel your love. Give you pleasure. You will just be another body in the masses.”

Doubt filled her and she looked down at her body again. What was she to do about this? If she left tomorrow she would miss her milking session. The pain would be terrible. She would also miss the private session that would follow.

Layla shook her head, trying to clear away the doubts there. It wasn’t normal. These weren’t her thoughts.

Harrow sat back down in the chair again and looked up at her. “I don’t hide in the dark. Neither do you. You are here exposed to the world. Anyone that looks at you can see everything. They can see your desires and fears. I can see the conflict inside you. You tell yourself you want to leave but I can see the desire to stay. To be worshiped and cared for.”

She swallowed hard and looked at him. “Harrow…” She felt her head start to become hazy. She liked being worshiped. She loved how it made her feel so needed. She was here in the open and for the first time in her life she could hide nothing… But she also had no sense of self here… But was that so bad?

“I’m alone.” She whispered. “Exposed here and alone.”

“You are far from alone.” Harrow took her by the wrist and pulled her to his lap, sitting her down facing the empty courtyard. “I told you, I do not hide in the dark. I am here for everyone to see and judge.”

His hands slid over her back, feeling rough and calloused. They felt strong and large against her, confident and knowledgeable as they stroked over sore muscles. “Perhaps my scales tip off balance because of what I had to do to get to where I am now. The things I suffered under Khonshu. If they are off balance, then I accept my judgment. I have never hidden this fact from those that follow me.”

She arched slightly as he rubbed her shoulders, easing her sore muscles from the added weight on her chest. “You’re a hypocrite.” She whispered. “Claiming your scales are off but that you can be redeemed. Why not let others be redeemed too?”

“I never claimed that I could be saved. I only intend to work to free Ammit. Let her judge me herself. When I can no longer be of use to her, I will let her devour my soul. Till then, I intend to make the world a better place for those that truly deserve it.” He slid his hands down to stroke over her collar bone gently.

Layla shivered. “My scales aren’t balanced. Not by your definition. Why save me?”

Harrow laughed softly and nuzzled her ear. “Because I can use you.” He spread her legs and reached down to casually stroke his fingers up and down her slit, pausing now and then to slide over her clit. “Everything you were when you came to me can be taken away. I can turn you into a vessel for my people. Let them push their feelings on to you and take their passion out on you. Keep them pure.”

She shuddered as her mind started to turn into a blank hum as each stroke of his fingers sent small jolts of pleasure up her spine. She easily spread her legs further and let him manipulate her. “You watch… You’re always there watching…”

Harrow smiled and rolled her clit between his fingers. “I make sure your body stays pure. I make sure they don’t get carried away and tempted to lose themselves in you.”

She groaned and started to roll her hips against his hand. “You like it. You like watching me. You like controlling my body. It gets you off.”

He shifted and she felt his hard bulge pushing against her backside fully. She still had no idea how he managed to keep such a beast hidden under such thin clothes. She wondered if he felt this turned on watching her in the crowds or from the back of the room while she pleasured others.

Perhaps he returned to his room alone each night and stroked himself off. That thought somehow made her sad.

She slid off his lap and turned to nuzzle between his legs. She looked up at him with a smile, asking silently as she brushed her lips across his bulge.

He slid his hands through her hair gently. “I offered you freedom. Are you afraid to leave? Do you fear not feeling so loved day to day as you are here? Do you fear that you will be rejected? Do you think your husband will reject you again?”

Layla nuzzled his inner thighs and looked up at him. She realized she was afraid. Afraid that he was right about everything. That she would go home and not feel comfortable there anymore. That she would miss having so many people look at her like she was a goddess. That Marc would leave again, repulsed by what she had become.

Reaching up she wrapped her fingers around his bulge and started to massage. What if this was the only dick she would ever have? Would she ever be satisfied by any other?

“Please…” She whispered. “Take me with you. You must be so lonely. I can’t stand thinking of you alone in your room all the time with this…” She kissed the bulge and nuzzled him through his pants. “Such a waste. Let me worship you for a change.”

He looked at her in surprise then smiled. “You are beautiful on your knees like this.” He undid his fly and groaned as his dick slid out, throbbing in need and already dripping in precum.

She was briefly overwhelmed as she gazed at his dick. She felt her insides clench and tighten as she remembered how it felt to be filled by it. Her own lubricant was starting to drip down her thighs in need.

He gripped his dick and gave it a couple of strokes then moved to slide the tip across her lips. “Show me your love.”

She gasped and licked her lips, tasting him. Slowly she leaned in and started to lick over the head, letting her tongue slide over the slit slowly to lick up his fluids. Each slow lick made him inhale deeply as he kept control just barely.

Her fingers slowly wrapped around his cock and she worked her way down, kissing the length and feeling it slide over her lips. His hands moved to her hair and he stroked gently, encouraging her.

Meticulously she mapped out the bulging veins with her tongue and lips, moving around his thickness carefully. Carefully she started to lick under the head and shivered as his dick pulsed in her hands. “I can’t believe you waited so long to fuck me…” She whispered as she went back to licking over the slit slowly.

Harrow let out a slow breath and laughed. “You were not ready. I needed you to want me. To open yourself up to me willingly.”

Layla shivered and slowly wrapped her lips around the tip, sucking gently. She looked up at him and slowly started to slide down, letting his dick move over her tongue as he stretched her mouth open.

A whimpering moan escaped her and she dropped a hand to her own clit, working her fingers across herself eagerly.

Harrow reached down and pulled her arms up till he was holding her wrists tightly. “No no no….” He chastised softly. “You focus on me right now.”

She gasped as he released her then gripped her hair and pushed her head down sharply.

His cock slid to the back of her throat and she struggled not to gag. It took her a moment of breathing through her nose to settle and slowly relax her throat. Her hands went to steady herself on his thighs as she carefully let his dick slip further down her throat.

She groaned and felt his fingers relax in her hair, returning to stroking gently. She slowly pulled up, letting her tongue work around him before sinking back down and letting him push against the back of her throat fully. Her jaw was starting to ache and she was distantly aware that if he became angry or decided to take over he could cause her severe damage.

He sat back, letting her move at her own pace as she sucked and bobbed on him, deep throating him carefully. Each motion down she struggled to take in more, wanting to push herself and see just how far she could go.

His hips twitched and he let out a deep moan that nearly sent her over the edge. I’m pleasuring him. He is enjoying this! The thought filled her with warmth and happiness. She held her breath and swallowed.

He groaned and arched his hips as she took him in fully, her lips meeting the base of his cock. She could feel him pushing down her throat as she held him there, her tongue pressing along his length and her throat squeezing down around him desperately.

His fingers tightened in her hair and he held her head there, keeping her from coming back up. Mild panic started to build as she found herself unable to breathe. She waited as her throat spasmed around him.

She could trust him or she could panic and fight. She thought about what he said about wanting him and opening up to him. She hummed around him, letting the vibrations work around him. He gasped and hitched his hips again, his dick moving out just barely before sliding back down.

She trembled as he started to move, slowly thrusting down her throat, only pulling out enough to let her take in a desperately gasp of air before he pushed back down again. She started to get light headed as he moved. The stretch in her jaw was a thing of the past now and her tongue felt good as she worked it around him.

“So beautiful.” He whispered as he fucked her mouth. “You belong here. You and I together will spread Ammit’s desires across the world. We will make heaven on earth. I will be her blade and you will be her love.” He gasped and started to move his hips harder, his fingers tightening and releasing her hair with each thrust.

Layla felt a shiver run down her at his words. No longer gentle whispers, he sounded forceful, making his words seem true.

“Nnh.” He groaned and ran his fingers through her hair as he pushed fully into her mouth again and held his dick deep down her throat. “Layla… I will give you anything you desire. You are mine.”

His dick twitched and she had just enough time to wrap her lips around him tightly as he came down her throat. She could feel his thick cum fill her and slide down into her. It was all she could do not to choke as she swallowed around him, drinking it in.

He pulled out of her mouth slowly and she gasped, collapsing back as she took in air at last. He stood up over her and stroked his dick as she lay back, gasping.

“You are mine, Layla. Only mine. You give them your love but your body is mine.” He groaned and his dick twitched again, spurting his seed out across her in thick ropes.

She looked up at him with wide eyes. This was a side of him she had never seen before. Powerful and commanding. This was no longer the kind loving man that worshiped her. This was a man that owned her.

She felt helpless under him as he knelt down and rolled her over onto her hands and knees. “This body… This mind. Every part of you is mine and only mine. You go where I tell you. You do what I say. You feel pleasure only because I allow it.”

She looked back in time to see him line up and slide his dick into her fully in one thrust.

Her body arched and she cried out as he stretched her and pushed deep inside her waiting body. He didn’t wait for her to settle as he started to buck into her roughly, each motion rocking her forward.

Her mind was blank as he drove into her. It was everything she wanted. Her hips bucked back to meet him and she was distantly aware of making obscene sounds that echoed around the courtyard.

He reached down and started to work his fingers over her clit harshly as he bucked into her. In no time at all she felt her body race to orgasm and fly over the edge as she clenched down around him.

Still he bucked into her and worked her over. She caught a glimpse of his face, wild and powerful, before his pounding pushed her down to her arms. It was all she could do not to fall flat on her face as he forcefully pushed into her.

She felt him pause, holding still deep into her as he came. His cum slid out around his dick, dripping down her thighs as he filled her. Panting, he grunted then started again, bucking into her as he gripped her hips tightly.

Layla started to babble, whimpering out his name and promises to let him own her. To control her body. She would promise him anything as she rode out another orgasm. His continued thrusts into her over stimulated body quickly pushed her into a consecutive orgasm and she screamed as he reached down again to stroke over her clit.

Each time her body raced up she clenched around him tightly and he toyed with her, letting her relax before bucking and pinching down on her clit sharply, enjoying the way she moved on him.

He came again and she watched between her legs as his cum dripped down under her. She imagined that she could see her stomach bulge from the force of his movements and she rested a hand on her lower abdomen, feeling as his dick pushed down into her.

When Harrow pulled out she collapsed, trembling on the platform floor. She sensed him moving behind her then felt him lift her up. She smiled, waiting to be taken into his caring arms and taken back to her room.

She felt him sit in the chair and move her around. “We are not done yet, Layla. I want you to only think of me when you feel pleasure. I want your body to remember me and crave me every moment of your life.”

She found herself straddling his lap facing him. She was lifted and she felt him push against her again before he let her sink down onto his cock once more.

“Ahh!” She arched and rocked her hips as he filled her in new angles and ways. His fingers dug into her hips as he encouraged her to move her hips and start to ride him.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders as she was forced to gaze into his eyes. He looked at her with pure lust as he moved into her. Fingers found her nipples and started to work them over, rolling and pulling, making her arch her back as she was overwhelmed in sensation.

Milk started to drip from her nipples as her chest was stimulated. He leaned in and took a nipple into his mouth and sucked, drinking her down as her hips continued to rock on him.

A free hand slipped to her clit and he once more started to stroke and pinch, working her into a frenzy as her body peaked in waves.

She felt him fill her again, his dick pulsing hotly inside her. He sat back, grunting for a moment as he looked at her. “Look at you.” He cupped her hot face, his thumb sliding over her lower lip. “This is how you were meant to be. Filled with my cum and not a single thought in that head but the desire for me to fuck you.”

Layla nuzzled his hand, parting her lips as she let her tongue slide out to lick his thumb. She felt dirty and used and excited all at once. His words echoed in her and while they made her angry, they also made her want to do things that felt shameful.

She smiled and reached down to where he joined her. Slowly she slid a finger through the cum leaking out of her and brought it up to her mouth and licked it clean. “Ah… Harrow… Do I please you?”

He leaned in and captured her lips in a deep possessive kiss, tasting her and owning her. “Yes…” He smiled. “I will take you to Egypt with me. Together we will find Ammit.”

He pulled out of her and let her stand before him on shaky legs. He spread her legs and watched as his cum slid out of her, running down her thighs. “You are so beautiful like this…”

She reached down and slowly spread her folds, feeling the thick cum drip from her.

He smirked. “I would have you stand here all day to let the world see you filled with my cum. Let them know that you are mine and through me and me alone do they get to feel your love and devotion…” He stood up and slid a hand under her, collecting some of the fluid before holding it up for her to lick off his hand.

She flushed as she licked over his fingers slowly. “Anything, Harrow… Anything for you…”

He smiled and lifted her. “We leave for Egypt tomorrow. Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for your trip.”

He let her walk back to the house so that she could feel his cum slide down her thighs with each step. She was covered in him and filled. She was his. Her mind filled with his name, leaving no room for her own thoughts as he stood with her in the shower and cleaned her.

She felt his fingers work inside her as he washed every part of her and she simply stood still and let him. Any thoughts of escape or leaving had long gone from her and she distantly wondered if this was part of his power.

She fell into a haze for the rest of the night, vaguely aware of him moving around her and preparing her for their trip.

When morning came, she found herself in a robe that buttoned down the front to conceal her naked body underneath. She wore boots that came up to her mid calves and her hair was tied back in a loose ribbon.

As she walked through town to the car, she noticed several vats that stored her milk being moved to the community building where food was often distributed. She had stored more than enough of her milk to last them many months.

It felt strange to feel cloth covering her body. She didn’t know how long she had been there, but the feel of the cloth against her breasts and nipples felt rough and wrong.

She got in the car next to Harrow and looked at him nervously. “We will come back here, right? The people… My people need me.”

He smiled lovingly, his kind face once more back in place. “Of course, my dear. When we return with Ammit, you will be worshiped as a goddess.”

She smiled and gazed out the window as they left the village. Her people would wait for her…

It was a long car ride out of the mountains. When the first real city appeared, she felt anxiety start to fill her. Her mind struggled as she saw people that did not belong with their group. Normal everyday people walking around as if nothing was wrong.

When she thought it was going to be too much, she felt a hand slide up under her robe and fingers start to stroke over her slit.

Her anxiety faded as she spread her legs and looked at Harrow, her lips parted with a soft gasp.

“Be calm, my Divine Gift.” He slid a finger into her and moved it around slowly. Her insides were still sensitive after the pounding she had taken the night before. She gasped and squirmed on his finger, struggling against the desire to close her legs and protect her sensitive parts and the desire for him to keep going and bring her off.

He laughed and removed his finger. “Be calm.” He patted her thighs and returned to his own work as he made calls and organized his people.

She squirmed in her seat and gazed out the window in a haze of need. What would these people do or say if they saw her? If she stepped out and stripped and pulled them close to her loving body?

She laughed softly and imagined how she might love each and every one of them.

Harrow had a private plane waiting for them. The people that waited to meet them greeted him warmly and gazed at her with a mix of curiosity and eagerness.

She smiled to them, relaxed at being surrounded by people that knew her again.

Once in the air, Harrow worked on his plans then would pull her close and tease her body, reminding her of her place at his side. She spent most of the plane ride in a haze of need and empty thoughts. She felt as if she had been drugged somehow and any time anxiety threatened to creep into her, he found her and teased out her fears with bliss and pleasure.

He fucked her once as they neared Cairo, making her forget about her home country and how close she was to the potential for freedome.

She reluctantly cleaned herself up in the bathroom, wiping away his cum and her own fluids. She didn’t want to be a distraction to him in his moment of leadership with his people. She couldn’t be a distraction to them either. They needed to put all their efforts into finding their Goddess.

She was taken to a hotel and told to wait.

He promised to come back to her and present her to Ammit. His promise was punctuated as he fingered her and quickly brought her off, leaving her trembling and gasping on the bed.

She waited. Day turned to night and she was brought food by one of his followers. Night turned to day and she paced the hotel room, wondering when he might return. She tried to distract herself by masturbating any time she felt anxious or fearful. Sweet endorphin release kept her mind blank and calm.

When night came again, she could hear the city outside erupting into chaos. Screams and cries and the sounds of things crashing. “It’s him!” She knew he had succeeded. Ammit was close. The scales on her abdomen glowed and she felt a familiar sensation. Not just one soul, but many souls being judged all at once.

Fear rushed over her. Harrow had won. What did that mean? She would always feel this. The buzz and tingle of the souls being freed. Being devoured. He had promised that she would learn to devour souls too. Did she want this? It didn’t matter, it was too late to go back now. Harrow had won.

Panic overtook her and she felt any shred of her old life starting to fade. Any bit of hope that she had clung to falling away. She didn’t like this. She didn’t like this feeling.

She stripped off her cloak and lay back on the bed, working her fingers over herself vigorously. Anything to distract herself from this feeling.

She worked herself into several orgasms, refusing to stop for fear of what her mind might return to.

Long after the screams and crashing stopped, she heard the door open and she spread her legs and spread her folds open wide, eager to greet Harrow and hope that he felt the need for a victorious fuck.

Someone walked into the room and she was distantly aware that this was not Harrow.

“Layla?” The voice was soft and timid. “Oh god… Layla… What did he do to you?”

She looked up at the dark eyes and dark hair. He was scuffed up and sweaty, scraped and bloody in some spots from battle.

She trembled and recognition swam to the front of her mind. “Marc?”

She groaned as wrong and painful emotions rushed forward. Emotions and thoughts she had not let herself feel since she had first been taken. “Nnh…” She arched her hips and started to frantically stroke her clit, desperate to put it all back. She didn’t want this. She couldn’t go back. Where was Harrow? Her husband was here… This was her husband… She loved her people. She needed her people. She loved Marc. She loved him with everything. He had finally come for her and she was free….

She cried out as she orgasmed, squirting her fluids across her hands, milk dripping from her pert nipples. She smiled and slowly stroked her fingers over her folds, working them up inside her as she smiled at him.

“Marc…” She trembled as she spread herself for him fully and used her other hand to pull a nipple till she sprayed milk out, eager to feel him take from her. “Come feel my love, Marc. Let me love you… Let me bless you...”

A/N: One more?

#Moon Knight smut #Layla El Faouly #Moon Knight fic #Arthur Harrow #Ethan Hawk #May Calamawy #MCU Marvel #Moon Knight #Smut #Layla x Harrow #smut fic

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sa7abnews · 1 month

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Kamala Harris shuts down Gaza protesters, warns about Trump vote

New Post has been published on https://sa7ab.info/2024/08/11/kamala-harris-shuts-down-gaza-protesters-warns-about-trump-vote-2/

Kamala Harris shuts down Gaza protesters, warns about Trump vote

US Vice President Kamala Harris has shut down chants by Gaza protesters at a campaign rally on Wednesday, suggesting that the activists would prefer Republican rival Donald Trump win the November presidential election.

Protesters chanted “Kamala, Kamala, Kamala you can’t hide, we won’t vote for genocide” as the Democratic presidential nominee gave a speech at an air hangar in Detroit.

Harris’s supporters responded with jeers and chants of “Kamala” before the speech continued.

“I’m here because we believe in democracy. Everyone’s voice matters, but I am speaking now. I am speaking now,” Harris said, drawing applause from the rally.

“You know what, if you want Donald Trump to win then say that. Otherwise I’m speaking,” she added.

The scenes bore a striking similarity to those seen during President Joe Biden’s now aborted re-election campaign, when Gaza protesters were drowned out by chants of “four more years” by Democratic Party supporters.

Harris, who officially became the party’s nominee this week, has yet to set a distinct course on how she would handle Israel’s war on Gaza, having given her first campaign rally on Wednesday.

Prior to Wednesday’s rally in Detroit — the city home to America’s largest Arab population — Harris met with two Arab-American leaders of the Uncommitted movement, who said that the vice president had expressed openness to discussing an arms embargo on Israel.

According to a New York Times report, uncommitted leaders Abbas Alawieh and Layla Elabed “wanted to support her but… wanted her to consider an arms embargo”. The report added that Harris was “open to it”. The New Arab could not verify the claims made in the newspaper.

A statement later released by the Harris campaign has sent mixed messages, with some outlets interpreting it as a rejection of suggestions that the vice president is open to talks on an Israel arms embargo.

“Since October 7, the vice president has prioritized engaging with Arab, Muslim, and Palestinian community members and others regarding the war in Gaza,” a statement from the campaign on Thursday said.

“In this brief engagement, she reaffirmed that her campaign will continue to engage with those communities.”

However, the statement underscored the vice president’s commitment to Israel’s ‘self defence’ — an undertaking that has for decades taken the form of US military and financial support for Israel.

“The vice president has been clear: she will always work to ensure Israel is able to defend itself against Iran and Iran-backed terrorist groups. The Vice President is focused on securing the ceasefire and hostage deal currently on the table.

“As she has said, it is time for this war to end in a way where: Israel is secure, hostages are released, the suffering of Palestinian civilians ends, and the Palestinian people can realize their right to dignity, freedom, and self-determination.”

Divisions over Israel’s war on Gaza have dogged the Democratic party in the runup to the November election, several key figures like Senate Majority leader Chuck Schumer being openly critical of the Israeli government.

Harris has maintained that Washington will continue to support Israel, however, appears to have gone further than Biden in expressing concern for Gaza’s civilian casualties, without attributing blame directly on Israel.

“I’ve said it many times but it bears repeating, Israel has a right to defend itself, but how it does so matters,” Harris said after meeting Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in July.

“What has happened in Gaza over the past nine months is devastating,” she said. “The images of dead children and desperate hungry people fleeing for safety, sometimes displaced for the second, third or fourth time. We cannot look away in the face of these tragedies. We cannot allow ourselves to become numb to the suffering, and I will not be silent.”

On Thursday, Harris’ national security advisor took to X to clarify that the Democratic nominee does not support withholding arms exports to Israel.

“@VP [Kamala Harris] has been clear: she will always ensure Israel is able to defend itself against Iran and Iran-backed terrorist groups,” Phil Gordon said.

“She does not support an arms embargo on Israel. She will continue to work to protect civilians in Gaza and to uphold international humanitarian law.”

#World

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justsomeonewriting · 1 year

Text

Whispers Of Destiny

CHAPTER ONE

Shadows In The Forest

Fear gripped her heart, its icy tendrils coiling around her with a relentless grip. It consumed her every thought. Death lurked in the shadows, whispering its chilling promises, while the haunting specter of solitude loomed ever closer. The fear of losing those she held dear, the very essence of her being, painted her world in shades of despair. Despite having everything a young girl could ever dream of, she longed for a life brimming with happiness, surrounded by her beloved family. However, the cruel hand of fate had snatched her mother away, leaving behind a void that refused to be filled. Though others claimed her mother to be gone, she clung to a flicker of hope that she yet lived.

Her father, lost in a sea of meetings and responsibilities, had become a mere stranger to her. The absence of a warm embrace, the absence of tender words exchanged, rendered their relationship a barren landscape. Sharing a meal or engaging in heartfelt conversation had become distant memories, fading with each passing day. She found herself alone within the confines of the palace, a princess shackled by the chains of isolation. Every facet of life incited fear within her fragile heart, for she had lost the one person who cared, who nurtured her, the very embodiment of the mother she so desperately craved.

Young princess POV :

As sunlight spilled into my chamber, accompanied by the gentle voice of my loyal maid, Chloe, beckoning me to awaken. I yearned for a world free from formalities, where the weight of my title need not overshadow my true self. "Good morning, Chloe, but please, spare me the formalities. Call me by my name, Layla" I told her, while rising from my slumber. A fond smile graced her lips, reflecting the deep bond we shared. "Of course, Layla, as you wish. Now, prepare yourself for breakfast. His majesty has departed to attend to pressing matters, as important guests are expected today. Once you are ready, come to me, and I shall brush your hair before you join us for the morning repast."

Refusing her kind offer, I protested, realizing the weight of her own duties. "Oh, no, Chloe. I cannot allow you to take on a task I can easily manage myself. Being a princess does not absolve me of personal responsibilities. Besides, you have other pressing matters to attend to. Thank you.” With those words, I witnessed a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. "Very well, little princess, suit yourself. I shall attend to my other duties then. Have a splendid day," she replied before gracefully exiting my room. Hurriedly, I tidied my bed, refreshed myself with a quick shower, and embarked upon the task of selecting an outfit for the day. Long ago, I had been imparted with wisdom that transcended mere material trappings, reminding me that true nobility resides within.

I dashed out of my room, eager to indulge in breakfast and venture forth into the world. The grand table greeted me with its solitary presence, a stark reminder of my status as an only child. My father, consumed by his regal duties, remained absent, leaving me to navigate the maze of royalty alone. As the sun cast its golden rays upon the room, I dined in solitude, contemplating the mysteries surrounding my mother's untimely departure, her absence casting a shadow that refused to fade. Despite the murmurs of others, whispering tales of her disappearance, I clung to the hope that she might still be alive, hidden away in some far away land, waiting for the right moment to return to us. It was a belief that sustained me through the darkest nights and the loneliest days.

I finished my breakfast with haste, eager to escape the confines of the palace walls and venture toward the place I truly called home. Without a moment's hesitation, I raced through the grand gates, taking the shortest route available as my feet propelled me forward.

Upon arriving at my cherished destination, I found myself awestruck by its sheer beauty. Nestled amidst the verdant landscape stood a humble cottage. The dwelling, adorned with a small garden, overflowed with a kaleidoscope of vibrant flowers, plants, and vegetables and fruits, intermingled with medicinal herbs. It looked as if it was lifted straight from the pages of a mystical fairytale.

Standing before the cottage's weathered door, a flood of memories overwhelmed me. I recalled my first visit to this enchanting place, when I received the heart-wrenching news of my mother's official departure. Though it had been over a year since her disappearance, an unshakable belief clung to my heart—she still walked among the living. Escaping the confines of the palace, tears teetering at the edge of my eyes, I reminded myself that princesses do not cry. Swiftly, I raced, my breath ragged, until I beheld the cottage once more—and there she was. She, who would forever alter the course of my life. Casting her gaze upon me, she beckoned, urging me to venture into the embrace of her cottage's blooming garden. Unknown to me, a sense of calmness and trust enveloped my soul. Her cascading locks, reaching down to her knees, framed her sun-kissed complexion, while her eyes shimmered like droplets of golden honey. As I approached, she seemed to recognize my royal lineage, harboring no surprise, only warmth in her countenance. "Hello, darling," she greeted, concern lacing her voice, "what brings you here, all alone? The approaching dusk poses a risk, with wild creatures lingering near the forest's edge." Her words, delivered in the sweetest and most nurturing tone I had encountered since my mother's absence, resonated deep within my being.

"Would you care to join me inside? I have just baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies, accompanied by warm milk, sweetened with a touch of honey," she offered. Completing her sentence, she rose gracefully and motioned for me to follow. Crossing the threshold into the cottage, a smell of cinnamon and vanilla tickled my senses. I couldn't help but notice a certain lilt in her accent—an exotic flair that set her apart. It hinted at her origins, perhaps from a distant land like (imaginary country name), as evidenced by the abundance of herbs and the lingering scent of cinnamon.

" Take a seat, my dear. I shall return momentarily," she reassured me, hastening toward the kitchen. I settled into one of the chairs, my eyes exploring the surroundings. In doing so, my gaze fell upon a photograph adorning the wall. There she stood, the woman, alongside a man whom I assumed to be her husband. What struck me was her pregnant form. However, I detected no signs of a child's presence, no trace of toys or the gentle melodies of laughter. Confusion stirred within me, yet I swiftly dismissed the notion, refusing to dwell on such mysteries.

"Here you are, dear. Freshly baked cookies and warm milk, with a drizzle of honey," she declared, presenting the treats. Grateful, I accepted them, yet an unspoken curiosity begged me to inquire her name, rather than merely referring to her as a woman.

"Thank you, ma'am, but may I inquire about your name?" I said, meeting her gaze. A flicker of contemplation passed over her features before comprehension settled upon her.

"Oh, my apologies. I completely forgot to introduce myself. I am (name), hailing from the distant land of (imaginary country name). I arrived here five years ago, which allowed me to master the English language. I also possess a modest command of (imaginary language name) due to my husband's origins in the mesmerizing city of (Imaginary city name)," she disclosed, her voice imbued with a tender sincerity. "Now, it is my turn to inquire. What is such a young princess like you doing venturing alone in this vast expanse?" Her question gave me pause, a momentary hesitation. However, a warmth swelled within my heart, compelling me to reveal the deepest secrets of my soul.

I poured out my tale, my voice trembling as tears threatened to spill forth. Yet, I caught myself in time, mindful of the princess's stoic facade. "Princesses do not cry," I reminded myself sternly. But in that moment, (name) rose from her seat, her arms enveloping me in a solace I hadn't felt in years.

"Release it all, my dear. Shed tears to your heart's content," she whispered tenderly. “Princesses, too, possess the gift of vulnerability. They laugh, they cry, they play—bound by no limitations save respect and consideration for others. Crying is no act of disrespect, for princesses, at their core, are human beings." She spoke with a gentle love that mirrored my mother's affectionate words, shared with me on the eve of her departure—a testament to her unwavering love and commitment. A smile danced upon my lips, mesmerized by that tender moment. The earlier photograph resurfaced in my mind, igniting a surge of curiosity. The urgency to seek answers welled within me, and I posed my question without reservation.

"May I ask, without intending to pry or intrude, about the photograph I glimpsed earlier? I noticed your pregnancy, yet I cannot understand the absence of children nor the presence of the man beside you," I inquired, my words gentle and inquisitive. She nodded, taking a sip of her milk before providing an explanation.

"Dear, it is perfectly acceptable to seek answers, and please, call me (name). Regarding my husband, you see, he was once the exiled king of (name), burdened by his own troubles. At present, he endeavors to secure our son's future, engaging in a quest of paramount importance. Five years ago, while we resided in (imaginary country name), my labor commenced unexpectedly. Fate led me to the steps of the palace, where I gave birth to a baby boy. His hazel eyes, resplendent and captivating, paired with his sun-kissed complexion, brought me immeasurable joy. Yet, in the darkness of night, when slumber claimed me, my son vanished from his crib. I relayed this heart-wrenching news to my husband, (male name), and since then, we have searched tirelessly. But then, (name) advised me to leave (imaginary country name) for my own safety, while he remained, longing for the day when our precious Jamie would be found," she concluded, a single tear tracing a delicate path down her cheek, quickly brushed away. I regarded her, a grin tugging at the corners of my lips, before speaking.

"We find ourselves in similar circumstances. You lost your child, and I lost my mother," I acknowledged, a sense of kinship blossoming between us.

"I am certain you will find him, perhaps not today, tomorrow, or even in the coming weeks or months. It may take years, but I promise, when I am grown, I will join your quest to find him. Furthermore, until you reunite with your son, I am more than willing to stand by your side, assuming the role of your child. How does that sound?" I proposed, anticipation shimmering in my eyes. She chuckled warmly before playfully tickling me, her voice laden with affection.

"I would cherish that with all my heart. However, we mustn't forget your princess duties. You must return to the palace and visit me again tomorrow morning, staying until evening. What do you say?" she inquired; her gaze fixed on me. I nodded eagerly, readily agreeing to her proposal. Thus, we spent the day indulging in freshly baked cookies, engaging in conversation, sharing tales of our lives, and laughing freely. As night fell, it was time for me to depart. However, before stepping out the door, I turned back, embracing (name) tightly. She chuckled, returning the affection with a kiss on my forehead. I bid her goodnight, promising to return tomorrow. And indeed, I honored that promise, visiting her every morning, departing only when the sun dipped below the horizon.

Her husband made occasional appearances, having a welcoming demeanor like his his wife's. Yet, an undercurrent of unease flickered within me. I couldn't fully trust him, but his infrequent visits assuaged my doubts. (Name) and I grew closer, evolving into a true mother-daughter bond. At times, I found myself calling her "mom" or "mother," to which she responded with a genuine smile. Together, we created cherished memories, and sometimes -

I was abruptly jolted out of my reverie by an unfamiliar noise. It was a dissonant clamor that pierced the tranquility of the surroundings, causing one's heart to skip a beat. An unsettling feeling washed over me, a sense that something was terribly wrong. The source of the commotion emanated from the depths of the forest, near the cottage. With a surge of adrenaline, I sprinted towards the origin of the disturbance, my legs propelling me forward with urgency.

As I ventured deeper into the woods, my steps grew hesitant, my breaths shallow. Dread settled upon me like a heavy shroud when I witnessed the gruesome sight before me. (female name), lying motionless on the ground, her delicate form immersed in a pool of her own crimson blood. Three harrowing wounds marred her abdomen, silent testament to the violence inflicted upon her. And standing there, a chilling figure, was (male name), gripping a firearm in his hand, its muzzle once directed towards (name) before she collapsed.

Overwhelmed with grief, I rushed to (name)'s side, cradling her fragile face in my lap, tears streaming down my cheeks in a torrential downpour. She mustered the strength to gaze up at me, her voice trembling as she uttered her final plea. "P-please... take c-care of m-my son... if you ever f-find him... and t-take care of yourself, Little Princess." I stared at her, my sobs punctuating the hushed air, pleading for her not to leave me alone. "Please, don't say that. We will find him together. Please, don't leave me," I implored through hiccups, my voice quivering with despair. In a faint whisper, she offered me solace, echoing her earlier words. "Chins up or the crown slips, Little Princess," she whispered before her eyelids closed, forever sealing her luminous gaze.

Lost in a sea of anguish, I cried out, my anguished screams reverberating through the forest, as if beseeching the heavens to reverse this cruel fate. Yet, amidst my wails, a menacing presence approached, (male name) growling with accusation, his gun menacingly trained upon me. "Why are you screaming, you bastard? You killed her," he snarled, his finger hovering over the trigger, ready to exact revenge for his tragic loss. Paralyzed with shock, I stood there, my eyes wide with terror, unsure of what to do. But then, from the shadows emerged a figure, a man cloaked in pure white. Swiftly, he apprehended (male name), binding him tightly, rendering him powerless. Retrieving a vial, he placed it beneath (male name)'s nose, causing him to succumb to unconsciousness.

In the midst of this turmoil, a radiant light emanated from behind me, drawing my attention. Turning to face the luminosity, I beheld a vision that defied belief. Mounted atop a magnificent white steed was a man adorned with a crown crafted from intertwining tree branches and leaves. His flowing locks, cascading like a waterfall, were a cascade of pristine white, reaching down to his lower back. Behind him, a retinue of ethereal horses, all as white as freshly fallen snow, were ridden by warriors clad in verdant capes, armed with bows and arrows. Flanking each side of the majestic horses were women draped in flowing white garments, their hands gently holding shimmering lamps. Strangely, I noticed that they all possessed long, pointed ears, evoking an otherworldly quality. The scene unfolded like a tableau from a realm of enchantment.

Quivering with curiosity and trepidation, I dared to ask the majestic figure before me, "Who are you?" The man’s response was measured and calm, calming my fears. "We are the elves of (imaginary country name 2), and we harbor no bad intentions." With those enigmatic words, my consciousness succumbed to the overwhelming events unfolding around me, and I fell into a profound slumber, unaware of the fantastical destiny that awaited.

this is just an idea i will update the names soons

please leave review bad or good they re always appreciated!!!

#random #im bored #writing #sneak preview

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dragon-kazansky · 2 years

Text

Free him!!!

Part of the Murder Bird series

Gender neutral reader

Spoilers for episode 6!!! Though I do stray slightly from the direct plotline.

♡♡♡

Layla had disguised herself so she could follow Harrow without him immediately noticing her. When the cars stopped, she didn't see you get out. Layla was sure you were in Harrow's car up ahead.

Harrow used his new reformed cane, which very much resembled an axe, to judge the men at the gate. Many of them were unworthy in the eyes of Ammit, set to commit sin of they had not already. Many die.

While the bodies are being moved, Layla goes to close in and kill Harrow who stands by his car, but a voice calls her name. Looking down, Layla sees one of the bodies talking to her.

Claiming to be Tawaret of all things.

Layla wants to ignore it, but the mention of Marc has her listening. There is till hope if Layla does as she is asked.

Free Khonshu. Break his prison.

Layla looks up at the car you're in. Freeing Khonshu will supposedly save Marc, and she knows it will save you too.

Layla puts her mask back up and gets back in the car. Harrow can live a little while longer.

You don't say anything when Harrow gets back into the car. You don't even look at him. You sit there wishing you had put up a fight. Where was Layla now? Was she alive? She is all you have now.

Arthur spares you a glance as he settles back into the car. He sighs softly. He doesn't want you to be afraid of him, or be angry at him. He was once s friend to you, but there was no going back to that. He knew that much.

He doesn't speak to you as you arrive to the pyramid. When the car stops, he climbs out and offers you his hand. You look at it for a few moments before taking it and climbing out.

Your choices were limited.

As everyone climbs the pyramid, Harrow helps you up. You go along with it. You'll go along with it until you can find your escape. The gods will not let this man get away with this.

You stand there as Harrow opens the pyramid about halfway up. He places a hand on your lower back and guides you inside. You go with him.

The gods stand there facing him. Harrow lets go of you as he approaches them. You blank out most of what happens next. As Harrow attacks the gods, you're pulled away to the side.

Layla stands right in front of you. You cling to her arms.

"Are you... real?" You ask.

Layla smiles softly at you.

"I'm real. I came to save you. I know what we have to do," she says. You don't wait for an explanation, the first thing you do is pull her into a hug. She hugs you back tightly.

"I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm so happy to see you. Marc..."

"I know," she says, "but we can still fix this. Come with me."

The whole pyramid shakes.

"Layla..."

"Ammit can be bound, but we can't do it alone. There aren't enough avatars," she says.

"Then what do we do?"

Layla holds your hand as she guides you through the halls. You enter a dark room with little spaces in the wall. Each lit with a candle and a statue standing in place.

You let go of Layla as you walk closer to the wall. These figures... You turn your head to the right and see him. You stand in front of him.

"Khonshu...."

You reach out and touch the stone carefully with your fingers.

"I'm sorry Khonshu. I'm so sorry," you say, the urge to cry building. You felt like you had betrayed him somehow. "I forgive you. I hope you know that. You did what you had to do and that's OK. I remember now. I remember you."

Layla places her hand on your shoulder.

"We need to break it."

You grab Khonshu from where he rests. You hold him in your hands for a moment. You smile down at him, wondering if he could see you.

You place Khonshu down on the ground.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

You stomp on the statue harshly. The stone breaks and crumbles under the force of your boot. Smoke rises from the pieces and you follow it with your eyes. It swirls around and takes form behind you.

Khonshu stands tall and mighty.

"Khonshu!"

He turns his head to look at you.

You smile.

"My star."

It's so good to see him again.

#khonshu x reader #khonshu #murder bird #murder bird series #marvel #moon knight

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fluffyprettykitty · 2 years

Text

Together

Pairing: Layla El Faouly x gender neutral reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 1050 words

Outline: Who takes the leap of faith when life has already claimed your destiny?

Warnings: swearing, idiots in love, not beta'ed.

Author’s Note: First time writing for Layla, this scene came to my mind one night before I fell asleep, is sort of more poetic and emotional than plot based, please let me know what you think <3

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics || banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・Layla El Faouly Masterlist

A quiet hot summer night, dancing together in the streets of Cairo just like your hearts have been dancing for one another for a while now. She looked beautiful, even more so with her hair falling on her face and her bright big smile. Her whole face was illuminated, she looked like summer herself. If you could write a thousand poetry books on her, you would. Never has a beauty like hers crossed this world. And she wasn’t even yours. Could she ever be?

Layla’s big brown eyes follow your movements, sighing softer than a hummingbird. You take her hand in your squeezing it allowing moments to pass quietly. There was so much heartbreak, so much longing and aching for a couple of broken hearts. The music is getting softer, more melodic yet somehow faster, you lean forward, coming even closer to her. There is a necessity within you, you need to be closer to her. You need to experience every moment you can with her, to share your life with her.

Layla responds by choosing to move her hands across your waist and wrap them around your back, resting her head on your shoulder. Mellow, vulnerable, yet completely safe inside your arms. Together. We can overcome everything together. Maybe. Wouldn’t know till you tried. You knew what you wanted, could you have it? She sways a little to the beat moving you along with her nuzzling her nose on your neck. It feels intimate, familiar, a moment cut from the future presented right now. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the fire that's dancing inside you. Burning like a log on a winter's night. Yet here you both were in the middle of summer.

Just one magical touch and every single piece of the puzzle will connect. Just one would be all that it takes. What you have been yearning for all these years…and yet you don't take the leap of faith, hoping that if she wants you, if her feelings have manifested and evolved for you that she will do it. Not allowing yourself to be the protagonist of your life has been a theme for you. Thought you were a follower, a friend, but not a lover, a better half. It was all in your head, that’s where everything is. Dreams, reality, wishes.

"We could have had the stars." She whispers, her lips brushing on your neck. Are these the kind of words that you could hear from a close friend? There is time to respond and then is time to explore. Yet you do neither, frozen in your emotions and your overall need for control. What if this spiraled? What if you lost her forever? She opens her eyes and looks at you, she is waiting for a response, any kind of acknowledgment from you, a confirmation, a key to unlock your cold heart. You were lost in your thoughts staring at the floor. Maybe she wasn’t the one who had spoken, maybe she wanted to say goodbye, or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you.

"I can give you the moon, only if you ask me to." Her words don't register in your head, sounds travel but they don’t reach you. Curiously this feels almost like a dream. One pinch and you are awake. But it's as if Layla can read your mind. You look as her hand brushes through your arm landing a hard pull on your skin. She pinches your bare arm and chuckles.

"Let me give you the moon." She repeats, vulnerability wore with pride in her voice. Layla blinks before she caresses your cheek with her right hand, moves ever so delicate and tender. As if you are porcelain ready to break, something so intricate and rare. Her very own breakable lover. You can see her now. Clearly as the light of the day. Her eyes glance from your cheek to your lips and back and forth. Someone needs to take the leap of faith. One of you two.

Bravado or bravery? Which one could you fake better?

There’s also the third option, you flee.

Her fingers continue to affectionately touch your cheek, an electrifying feeling of the most unique explosion you could ever feel. Her hand belongs in yours. You know that and she knows that. You complete each other.

"I love you." You blurt out not knowing that this is what you said but unquestionably what has long been held at the tip of your tongue. Ready to slip out at a moment’s notice.

The right moment, the right opportunity, you and her entangled together by kismet.

Layla scoffs without a sound, amused by your final bravery, and then she moves her fingers on your face, tilting your head slightly.

"Love is eternal." She says in a short breath and then presses her lips over yours, brushing them ever so slightly. You can't help but taste honey and milk and an everlasting promise on her plump lips.

Forever, eternal. Like honey and gold.

You don't have to fake your bravery, you didn’t have to fake anything. It was all real, all along. What a joy.

Your heart is beating fast, ‘this is real’, repeating in your head and then you kiss her back, an arm wrapping at the back of her head, pulling her closer. Like magnets who had long been denied one another.

Evermore.

Feels like a dance and a prologue and an epilogue all together.

The yearning ends, the companionship begins, an endless journey, together. A new life. A chance for more. The moment hasn't frozen in time, it continues and manifests in waves and patterns you could never dream of. Her lips on yours are what religion is made of.

She pulls away first, wanting so much to stare at your blissed face. You look back at her and you would never stop looking at her no matter how much time passed or whatever stupid shit she could get herself into. She was yours, and you were hers.

“I am giving you the stars and the moon and the sun. I am not stopping at anything less ever again.”

Determination in love.

A golden string of fate wrapped your souls together a long time ago and now it was time to untangle it together.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

#layla el faouly #layla el faouly x reader #layla el faouly imagine #layla el faouly oneshot #layla el faouly fluff #moon knight tv #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight series #moon knight x you #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #moon knight fluff #selenewrites #layla moon knight #layla x reader

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jakekgs · 3 years

Note

Hii! I don't know if your requests are open but if they're not, just ignore this! I would looove to see you write an enhypen reaction to reader being jealous and a pouty to them?

enhypen’s reaction to, you being jealous.

this was so fun!! thank you so much for this request!!

HEESEUNG

definitely too scared to make fun of you, hee is one of the most considerate people (in my opinion) n such an attentive boyfriend, it wouldn’t take him long to pick up on your jealousy.

“baby?” “what do you want, hee?” “i’m sorry.”

you can feel yourself tear up at his response, tired of hiding your gaze from his, you’d get up and wrap your arms around your boyfriend, head buried in his shoulder.

“you can’t help being hot.” you eventually sigh.

starts laughing at your response, and whispers jump in your ear (DON’T WORRY THIS IS PG!!!)

fails miserably at any attempt of being sexy when the pair of you fall on the bed in a fit of giggles.

spends the rest of the night with you, kissing everywhere you’d let him and putting on your favourite film, or something sappy enough to have you crying into his side.

now that he would love.

100% whispers positive affirmations into your hair while you fall asleep, reassuring you that he couldn’t ever want anyone other than you, probably claims he’s way out of your league too.

JAY

another really attentive boyfriend, this one is more a fact, jay picks up on little things n mood swings of the members all the time!! he’d be so understand too!!

“y/n?” “jay?” insert him frowning in tiny. “you never call me jay, what’s wrong?” “it’s your name, nothings wrong.”

watches with furrowed browns you leave to your shared room, he gives you the space he’d want until he sees you reappear in his clothing.

an oversized shirt with some sweatpants of his, your hair far messier than it was when you had both left for the date earlier that evening.

you knew, logically, it was not his fault that your waitress had been all over him for the entirety of your stay, even going as far as to ‘accidentally’ forget to take your order.

he knew you were annoyed, had it been the other way around jay would’ve started a fight in the middle of the restaurant.

“i’m sorry.” you’d both blurt out at the same time.

“i love you.” again, the two of you spoke in sync, your giggles filling the once tense air around you. i can see him pulling you into his embrace as gently as he could.

JAKE

my star sign twin!! literally one of the most jealous mfs on this list!! (a close second to sunghoon ofc ofc)

as much as i love him, he definitely can be a little clueless, n while being attentive he’s very easy going and definitely tries to find the humour in every single situation so you’d have to make it obvious.

and pouting is the only way to do that, of course.

he’d gasp as soon as he saw you. “baby, why are you pouting?” just tilt your head at him with a raised brow and give him a second. “you’re jealous?! what.. why would you be jealous?”

“jake.. the girl at the dog park asked for your number and she was beautiful.” depending on who you are, i know i’d probably get upset at this, so feel free to imagine your own reaction ofc!

“and?” he definitely wouldn’t understand, may even raise his voice because he loves you so much it doesn’t make sense to him. you didn’t respond, feeling almost stupid but thinking what you had. “y/n, you’re the one that’s out of my league.”

he knew you didn’t believe him, despite the small smile tugging at your lips. strikes me as the type to open whatever window in the apartment that faced a busy street, and shout about how amazing his partner was. (you.. by the way).

kisses your face over n over again, pausing every once in a while to confess his love for you, mixed with promises of marrying you and loving you for as long as he can.

involves layla somehow (that poor pup-) bc he knows you die a little every time he calls you her mum :((((

SUNGHOON

he is so confused PLS DONT DO THIS

“why are you pouting?” “y/n stop it i hate seeing you like that.” “y/n explain or stop.”

stands in front of you so that you have to face him, grabs your face in his hands and just lets his eyes pour into your own.

“hoon stop that, it’s weird.” “tell me what’s wrong.” “are you trying to hypnotise me right now??? what is happening???” eventually gives you no other choice but to tell him how you feel, which wouk due happened eventually but… moving on!

“the girl we saw at the rink today– i don’t know it’s just.. i know you’re old friends but her hand was touching you the entire time and i know you don’t like pda that much so i wouldn’t expect you to be all over me, but it’s just–“

cuts you off with a kiss!!! a passionate one that almost has you tripping on your own feet, had it not been for his arms around your waist.

when you both, inevitably, pulled away for air, he’d hold you even closer, gently pressing his lips to the space between your brows, gently muttering for you to continue speaking.

“i know you didn’t see it like that, or her like that, and i don’t blame you… i blame her, i’m just mad.” you huff. “she could see we were a couple, hoon, we were holding hands.”

he agrees with every word that leaves your lips, nodding the entire time, making sure to not invalidate your feelings whilst also reassuring you that he’d never want anyone but you.

SUNOO

he’s so observant it wouldn’t take him very long to notice the distance you’d put between the two of you, why didn’t you wanna share a blanket when you watched big hero six >:(

doesn’t want to pressure you into telling him but cannot go this long without speaking to you or HOLDING YOU STOP THIS RN.

“y/n,” you cant even look at him?/!/?/! confused baby alert!!! “baby, can you look at me?”

you do it instinctively, not wanting to cause an argument between the two of you. “what did i do?”

“i’m just being dramatic, sunoo, don’t worry.” he doesn’t believe you. “i’m overthinking, it’s fine, really.”

“don’t lie to me, y/n.” THIS MAN IS SO SCARY… so you end up telling him ofc!!! 😁

“i was just on twitter and ‘cause i follow some of your fan accounts and stuff… this one video came up and it was people shipping you with a fan but she was… i don’t know you just looked really happy.”

cue sunoo looking at you with stars in his eyes, his hand finds yours under the blanket he forcibly wrapped around you whilst you spoke.

“y/n,” you look at him. “i’ve wanted you since the moment i saw you. we’re together and i still want you. just you.” if your hairs long enough he’s pushing it behind your ear rn i know it!!!! “ignore that kind of stuff, they do it with me and hoon too.”

“well, sunghoon i could take, i’d just kick his knees.”

JUNGWON

“why are you being weird?”

“why are you flirting with the staff?”

poor boy’s jaw hit the FLOOR, would take you somewhere away from any prying ears with a hand on your wrist. “what are you talking about?” doesn’t let you out of hold until you tell him!!!

feels awful for making you think like that, especially when he sees you play with the sleeves of your jumper :(

“y/n i wasn’t flirting with the staff, they tend to get a little awkward sometimes so i was trying to make her feel a little bit more comfortable.”

starts smirking at the way you try to hide your smile, definitely pulls you into his embrace by your waist.

“i love you, okay? the girl i’ve fallen in love with.”

you nod at his words, your face finding home in the nook of his neck, embarrassed for assuming such a thing.

“i’d never do that to you.”

“i know you wouldn’t, i’m really sorry.” THE TYPE TO CHUCKLE ABOUT HOW CUTE YOU ARE WHEN YOU’RE EMBARRASSED BUT COMPLIMENT YOU NON-STOP AFTERWARDS!!!!

would you buy you a stupid amount of sweets and flowers for the next WEEK just to make sure you know how loved you are :(

RIKI

GET THIS BOY AWAY FROM HIS GAMES RIGHT NOW

you had no idea who he was playing with, assuming it was some friends from back home since he was speaking japanese.

the last thing you wanted to do was to disturb the game, so you settled for dramatically falling on to his bed and waiting for him to finish, knowing little to no japanese meant making sense of the very few words you did know.

ai ????? had your ears deceived you… or had your boyfriend just used the word love whilst playing a video game. opting to say nothing, your turned on your side, leaving your back to face him and not long after that had he stopped talking, the bed beside you dipping due to his presence.

“y/n, are you awake?” he knew you were awake. “i know what you heard.”

you didn’t reply, faking to be asleep was far easier than this conversation.

“baby?” no response, niki sighed but you could practically hear the smirk on his face. “you have no reason to be jealous, i was playing with konon.”

still faking your slumber but feeling worse than ever for becoming so annoyed, you turned in your ‘sleep’ and niki wrapped his arms around your ‘sleeping’ figure with a heartfelt chuckle.

“i know you can hear me, i’ll tease you for this when you’re awake.”

masterlist, request.

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