#dark!moonknight

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Only for you

Dark!yandere Marc Spector x gn!reader

Category: Twisted Letter - I recommend you read the informations for twisted letters first ->here<- if you haven't already.

Summary: Reader has escaped from Marc and he's on the hunt.

Dead dove do not eat - you'll get exactly what's in the tags!

Tags: Threats, hints of captivity, yandere themes, possessive Marc, reckless Marc, dark themes, use of sedatives, mention of kidnapping.

Hi troublemaker,

You've done a big mistake, honey. Do you really think I wouldn't go after you if you escaped? Why did you even run in the first place? Didn't I promise I would keep you safe forever and take care of you? You're an ungrateful little brat...

I should have known you were up to something, you were so good the past few days it made you suspicious. You were just biding your time and strike when the moment was right, didn't you?

But all that doesn't matter anymore, I know I can't trust you now - or atleast you have hell of a job to do that will make me forgive you and give you atleast some trust back.

Do you know how worried I was when I discovered you ran away? How furious? You know exactly how I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt and this is how you repay me?

I swear once I have you back I will not let you out of my sight again, so there's that. But I will think about to cuff you to your bed so you won't be able to make any fuss.

And I really hope for you that you're atleast smart and don't run back to your house again, because that's the first place I'll check. Don't think you can run forever, I will get you back where you belong and you will learn to accept it.

Oh and I wouldn't recommend calling the cops, they can't stop me, not even the goddamn army can. The only thing they can do is stand in my way. And once I've tracked you down it's over for you.

You know I would go through hell for you. After I first kidnapped you I felt guilty, I admit that. But you had to have someone in your life who will protect you. I am the only one, and once I set my mind on something, I will go after it, and rightnow that's you. I promise once you're back I will improve security measures to make sure you stay put. That includes a fingerprint lock for the front door.

But don't worry, at first I will take away a few privileges, but if you behave and be good again I will give them back to you. And in return I expect you stay with me and don't scurry away, or else I might have to remove some of your privileges permanently...

I really hope you understand why I went after you. To keep you safe. I can be the sweetest and most loving guy in the world, but I can also be your worst nightmare. And trust me, you don't want to see that side of me...

And if I catch you, you better come peacefully or I won't hesistate to use sedatives on you.

Wherever you are rightnow I hope you know it's only a matter of time before you'll be back in my arms. And if someone tries to take you away from me, I'll teach them not to mess with me. If you got hurt I will take such good care of your wounds.

Lastly, I hope you understand that I'm doing this all for you. Only for you...

--Marc Spector

[thisisarcanereverie]

Cutting Ties (Dark! Moon Knight x Reader) Part 2

A/N: This is Part 2 of a 3 Part fic. (Here is Part 1!) This is also a dark fic so please DNI Minors and others. (I got a little carried away with this idea Anon so thank you for the suggestion)

Now if you can interact or want to, please do! Like, reblog, reply!

DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS: kidnapping, angst (like a ridiculous amount of it), light cursing, I've never been to London or England in general so I'm going based off of what I've seen, English is my first language I just suck at it. I do not own the picture above but i DO own the header below, it's something that I made. I might make a few others idk. Enjoy!

Summary: You're a former Widow on the run, only in London for a year you meet Steven Grant, a goofy gift shoppist. But is there more that meets the eye?

For as long as you could remember you were not your own. Your name, your face, your mind, your body, even your own autonomy was not your own. It had always belonged to Dreykov and to his Red Room. Then, suddenly, the very color that controlled you, freed you. The red powder burned your eyes for a moment before suddenly it felt like you could breathe again. 

It was strange how one’s life can completely turn on its head in a matter of moments. 

One moment you were another Widow, easily expendable and replaced and the next you were…new. At least that’s what it felt like, you no longer existed at the whim of another. You weren’t a chess piece on the board, you were now a player. 

You remembered the day the Red Room fell as the best day of your life. 

There were so many things you could do, there were so many possibilities. 

You just weren’t prepared for the reality of it. 

That despite the mind control and the lack of autonomy, you still hurt people, at the end of the day it was your finger that pulled the trigger. You would wake in the middle of the night still haunted by those faces with a red mark between their eyes. It felt like you couldn’t escape from the Red Room you concocted in your mind, that no matter how hard you tried you will always be a Widow. So instead of fighting it, you gave in. 

You had offers, from SHIELD to Tony Stark himself. Which surprised you, but in the end you decided you didn’t want the spotlight on you and were a merc for a while. It was gritty, but it was work you knew well. You thought you could do it but the first time you were ordered to kill you couldn’t. They were innocent, they were just there at the wrong time. So you killed your boss instead, grabbed what you could, and left. You made enemies that day, one that would love to see your head gifted to them on a silver plate. 

You called Natasha after that, you weren’t sure what else to do. You didn’t know anyone else, you were completely alone. She gave you this guy's number, said that he would help you disappear and with whatever else you may need. You could feel her wink on the other end of the phone as you wrote down his information. 

Since then you’ve been running, changing addresses and identities every couple of years to stay ahead of people who may want you dead. Her friend would give you new identities and you would exchange with money that you earned at jobs you would work. For a while you were content with being alone, working everyday and coming back to your place to eat food you previously were never able to eat and watching tv. Then you met Steven Grant, Marc Spector, and Jake Lockley. Then suddenly you realized how gray your life had become, how long you had merely survived and what living actually meant—even if you were merely living a lie. All at once you were no longer alone, someone held you at night and kissed your blood-soaked hands. 

For the first time in your life…you felt clean. 

But that had all been a delusion. 

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You woke up in pain, your head throbbed and your limbs felt weighted down, as though someone had thrown two weighted blankets on top of you. You willed your eyes to open and was greeted with an unfamiliar ceiling. You squinted your eyes as you looked toward the open window, watched as the powder blue curtains danced gently as the breeze blew in. You weren’t sure how long you’ve been asleep, last time you remember it was nighttime and….

Rain

Pinching

Jake.

You took a sharp breath in and shot up from the bed as your hand went to the side of your neck, Jake had drugged you–and from the look of things–abducted you as well. Why would he do this? Did he act alone or did Steven and Marc help him? All these questions swarmed your mind but one question stood out. 

Have you been blind?

You shakily made your way to the open window, sure enough it was morning, and sure enough you weren’t in London. As far as you could tell you could be miles away from the nearest village let alone London. How long had they been planning this? To already have a second place squared away, ready, were you the first to be here or the latest addition. 

“You’re up.” 

You swerved your head as you looked beside you, your skin crawled and blood turned into ice as you looked at him. Upright posture, hair a little less unkempt, and a twinge of a chicago accent dripped in his voice. 

Marc. 

You opened your mouth to speak only for a small, pathetic squeak to sound instead of words. Your hand reached for your throat and realized for the first time how absolutely parched you were. Like you hadn’t had any water in days. 

“Here,” he handed you a glass of water which you greedily accepted, you didn’t bother breathing as you chugged the glass he gave. After the soreness in your throat subsided a little and hummed to warm up vocal cords that had not been used in a while. You put the glass on the window sill  and looked  at him and at the tray he was previously holding. Turkey Bacon and Eggs, it was Marc's favorite breakfast, one he had made you dozens of times whenever he was sorry for something. 

You were silent as you looked at him further, he wore sweatpants and a t- shirt, both clearly slept in. The tan of his skin glowed in the morning light and it looked like he ran his fingers through his dark curls once or twice. There was something unsettling about him though, one that made the hair on the back of your neck stand, something that wasn’t there before. 

Those eyes. 

You flinch a little as he raises a hand, only for him to retract it. 

“Sorry,” he apologized, his voice uncharacteristically small. You debated on what to say, what was there to say? You had so many questions and yet you could not speak. You weren’t even sure if you were just dreaming, it almost seems like a dream. A house far away from everything and everyone, and your boys were right there with you bringing you breakfast in bed. You were partially worried that you would wake up and find yourself sleeping in a plane seat millions of miles away from them, but the other part of you worried that you would never wake up. 

“How long?” you finally spoke, voice still hoarse. A moment of silence fell before he answered. 

“I can’t tell you.” Marc says lowering his eyes, something he does when he has something to hide. 

“Did Steven or Jake tell you that,” You fidgeted with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Neither.” 

“You have to let me go,” You finally said, voice getting a little less hoarse the more you speak. “Please.” 

“Stop,” He said looking at you finally with a hard look in his eyes, “Stop saying you have to leave. You don’t need to leave.”  

“Yes I do,” you emphasized, you held his face in order to hold his gaze, “there are a lot of things you don’t know about me, things that I’ve lied about. That person you fell in love with isn’t me, I’ve done horrible things-” 

“I know-” 

“No you don’t.” 

“Yes,” he said, grabbing your wrist with an intense look in his eyes, “I do.” 

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on you and stuck a fork in an outlet all at the same time. There was no way he could know, at least, not everything. 

“I know that you used to be a Black Widow,” he said, taking a step towards you, the grip on your wrist tightening, “you’ve killed, lied, and stole from many people including me.” his nose brushed with yours as you tried to steady your breathing. 

“How could you know all that?” You asked, whispered, your mind was pounding in time with your heart as he leaned closer to your ear. 

“I also know you used to be a mercenary,” you heard him whisper in your ear, his breath ghosting over the goosebumps that formed on your skin, “that’s how we met.” you stopped breathing as he leaned slightly away from you, far enough for you to look him in the eyes. Dark eyes that held the sun in them. 

Oh

Oh. 

The last job you went on you worked with a team, you never saw his face and he was never much of a talker. You just remember his eyes as he held a gun to you ready to shoot…only to lower the gun and let you get away. 

That had been Marc. 

Without a second thought you ripped your wrist from his grip and grabbed the glass laying on the nightstand throwing it at him. Your heart pounded as you made your way through the open door, sure to close and block it before he had time to reach it. You were sure by now you were on the verge of a heart attack with how loudly your heart was pounding. You could hear Marc on the other side banging the door with his fists. You had no plan, your heart was breaking all over again and your entire body has gone into a fight and flight zone. You made your way down the wooden stairs skipping every other step, unafraid of the small fall you have on the last step before you regained balance and ran straight through the front door. Even from outside you can still hear him banging and screaming, you tried to decide where the best place to run to when the banging stopped. It wasn’t in Marc's nature to give up so you look behind you, he wasn’t coming down the stairs either. What the hell? 

Then you heard a familiar grunt and footsteps above you. 

The open window. 

All at once it didn’t matter where you ran to as long as you ran. Your feet carried you swiftly into the tree lining of the woods surrounding the house. The adrenaline coursing through your veins hid the pain of the cuts and barbs that scratched you as you pushed them aside. Your goal was to run, or to find a pointy enough stick or a sharp enough stone to throw at him, but mainly run and hide. 

You weren’t sure how long you ran, all you knew was that your lungs were on fire and you couldn’t feel your limbs. You knew you couldn’t run much further, at least, not at full speed. So you went to the nearest, sturdy tree you could find and climbed, you grabbed one branch after another. The bark dug into sensitive parts of your hand but you didn’t care, you could see your arms shaking as they pulled you up to that final branch. It seemed strong enough to hold your weight and shielded enough to provide cover. 

One of the things the Red Room taught you was to assess weakness and who had the advantage. Marc had the advantage when it came to muscle mass, but you had experience–granted those were mainly espionage missions that required more brains than combat prowess. You always carried a gun on you,  but if he was smart (which you know he is) he took that away and was carrying it with him now.  

All this time, you thought he loved you and that you were protecting him. You never even suspected the truth, he seemed so familiar and you had that gut instinct that something was up but you ignored it. All this time everything had been a lie, he didn’t love you, he was finishing the job. How long did he have his eye on you before he made a move? 

Stop! You didn’t have time to mourn, you had to focus on surviving. 

You halted your greedy intakes of air as you heard rustling in the leaves. Careful not to make the slightest sound as you saw him run past, calling your name. You waited until you slowly couldn’t hear the crackling of the leaves before beginning your descent. Time was of the essence, at some point Marc will come back to retrace steps, so you had to make another break in a different direction he had gone. Maybe back to the house and hotwire the beat up jeep you saw in the driveway. Once there you would make it to the second nearest village because the nearest would be the first place he’ll look, use one of those grimy old payphones to call in your ID guy. 

Your feet had barely touched the ground before you felt the wind being knocked out of you as you tackled the ground. You were pinned before you could push Marc off of you, unable to do much but struggle in his grip. 

“Do it,” you growled while still fighting, “I’m not going to stop fighting but if you’re going to do it, do it now.” 

“Do what now?!” His eyes wide and intense, his grip becoming tighter on your wrists again. 

“Kill me!” You yell, “that’s what all this has been for, hasn’t it? I killed your boss and stole a lot of money and relics from the people who hired us. A lot of different people want me dead, a lot of powerful people who can make things happen want me dead for more than this. Once you kill me you’ll have your pick of the litter. Whatever you want.” You see his brows furrow as you feel his breath ghost over your lips. 

“Have you ever thought that maybe what I wanted was you?” He pecked your lips once before continuing, “that I intended to keep you for myself rather than sell you to the highest bidder.” 

“Why would you do that?” 

“Cause I love you,” Marc said, pinning your hands above your head with one hand while the other caressed your cheek, “I have since we met on those desolate dunes, that has never been a lie.” you can feel his heartbeat as he lays his weight down on top of you, like so many times before, as his words swirl around your head. Your first thought was that he was lying, how could he not be? Deep down, however, as you looked him in the eyes you were reminded that Marc was many things–but a good liar was not one of them. 

“You can love me,” you say, “and still betray me.” you hear him let out a frustrated groan as he drops his head to your shoulder. You can feel his grip tighten before he lets your wrist go, and his weight on you is gone leaving you strangely cold. For a moment you think he’s letting you go, a foolish thought, one full of hope. 

You were wrong. 

No sooner had you gotten off the ground yourself, your feet were dangling above the ground as you were swung over his shoulder like you weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes. Had this been ANY different situation your knees would be weak for a different reason. 

Once again you fought, kicking and screaming. He wasn’t going to kill you, not yet, but you were honest when you said you weren’t going down without a fight. You didn’t even register entering the house until he sat you on the couch with an unceremonious plop, his hands gripping your shoulders and a frustrated look in his eye. 

“What is it going to take to get you to believe me?” He said, voice low edging on a growl. 

“Give me one good reason to believe that you wouldn’t give me up.” You said, eyes narrowing, “a reason that I would believe.'' There was a beat of silence, you see his brows furrowed together as his brain itches for an answer that you know he wouldn’t have. He has betrayed you and has all the reasons in the world to sacrifice you to the altar. 

Then the lights starting flickering, 

The hairs on your neck stood on end as you felt a shift in the air, the lights flickering and a hum of something else. Something you’ve never encountered before. Then you see the bandages wrapping themselves around Marc like snakes and his eyes were no longer the dark color you used to adore. They glowed now like moonlight reflecting off of water. 

Of course. 

You’ve seen the small articles in the paper passing by or clickbait news in the media about London’s vigilante who called themselves Moon Knight. You usually never paid much attention to it, you rarely were out past dark anyway why would you? Maybe you should’ve. 

“If I wanted anything that they have,” You hear him say as the mask unbound itself to reveal his face, “I would’ve just taken it, and they couldn’t have stopped me.” 

“You’re moon knight.” Of course the first person you fall in love with is not only a mercenary, but also a superpowered vigilante. Your life hasn’t been ordinary, why would your love life be?! You groaned in frustration as you leaned your head back against the couch, “well that explains why you always look exhausted and always came back home at weird hours.” 

“You knew about that?” He asked, you gave him a deadpan look, “...of course you did.” You look at him for a moment and replayed every moment in your head leading up to this, he had a point. With these powers he really could have walked into any place, taken what he wanted, and left. He wouldn’t have needed you, but why keep you?

“Ok,” you start, “so you don’t intend to sell me or kill me or whatever.”

“I’ve been telling yo-” 

“But why keep me?” You ask, “Why bring me here? Based on this house and location it is-”

“Everything you ever wanted.” Marc finished, his grip softening on your shoulders, “a small house with a sunroom, far away from everyone, a place to plant flowers and a lot more sun than what you got in the city…A home.” 

“This would’ve taken at least half a year to build,” you say, “and another few weeks to a month to draft up the plans. So that means that you have been planning on bringing me here since-” 

“Since fate decided to give us a second chance,” he said, “I couldn’t follow you before and lost you, trust me I tried to follow you but you were so damn good at running and hiding that I couldn’t find you. Then, one day, I see you on the bus. I was a fly on the wall, Steven was in charge, but I saw you. You have no idea how badly I wanted to talk to you, but seeing how you fled before, I knew I had to be patient. I told Steven everyday to talk to you, building him up until he eventually sat next to you.” You see him laugh a little, “I really shouldn’t have kept him up the night before, but it all turned out alright.” 

He was sick, you knew this from the beginning, you just never looked below the surface of it. He needed help, something you couldn’t give him here. 

“Baby,” You said softly, holding his hands as he knelt down in front of you, kissing the tops of his still bandaged covered hands, before leaning your forehead against his, you had to be calm. You had to convince him with honey and not vinegar. “Thank you so much for doing this, it must have been so much work.” You start, lowering your voice to barely a whisper, already sensing the tension leaving his body, “you must be so tired.” 

“I am.” 

“I’m just worried for you,” you said brushing your nose against his, “maybe we should see someone hmm? Like a specialist or a doctor, get you some melatonin or some medicine to help you sleep.” You feel him shake his head before you gently shush him, bringing a hand to cup his stubbly cheek, “just to help you sleep.” 

“I don’t need them.” He says definitely, “I have you.”

“And you’ll always have me.” You promise, “let’s just call and make the appointment, I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to help.” 

“No,” he mumbles quietly at first, “no” a little louder, “I don’t-” 

“Do it for me?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and giving him a small smile, “please baby.” gently moving your hand to scratch the nape of his neck you knew he was putty. 

“Ok,” he agrees. 

“Ok,” you quietly repeat, trying to keep your tone even, “how about we call them right now and make an appointment?” 

“No.” 

“Ok,” you say, rubbing soothing circles on the back of his neck, “we don’t need to call them right now but in a short bit here, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

You breathe in, “yeah.”

[thisisarcanereverie]

Cutting Ties (DARK! Moon Knight x Reader) Part 3

A/N: I know, I'm back from the dead (shocker) I'm so sorry about the lengthy delay but here it is! This is Part 3 of a 3 Part fic. (Here is Part 2!) This is also a dark fic so please DNI Minors and others.

Now if you can interact or want to, please do! Like, reblog, reply!

DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS: kidnapping, angst (like a ridiculous amount of it), light cursing, slight suggestive content, I've never been to London or England in general so I'm going based off of what I've seen, I am also not responsible for your content consumption please be advised that this is a dark story with triggering elements, viewer discretion advised. English is my first language I just suck at it. No beta, we die like men! I do not own the picture above but i DO own the header below, it's something that I made. I might make a few others idk. Enjoy!

Summary: You're a former Widow on the run, only in London for a year you meet Steven Grant, a goofy gift shoppist. But is there more that meets the eye?

Weeks passed. 

You had begun to notice a pattern, similar to the one they had before, one day it would be Marc who woke you up with turkey bacon and eggs and slept by you with your hands in his hair and then Steven would take his place the next day with oatmeal with fruit in it in the morning and smothering you at night. The only difference was that Jake had yet to show himself since the night he brought you here. 

A small part of you was grateful for that but the larger (angrier) part of you wanted to see him again, if only to scream at him. However, you had to play this right, you had been working on both Marc and Steven on going to the doctor. You were careful, you knew if they said the wrong thing they wouldn’t go, so you played the part of loyal and dutiful girlfriend each day with a smile on your face and a calm, nurturing voice. Even your words were carefully thought out and rehearsed in advance, every time you mentioned the doctor you didn’t use isolating words like “you” and “me” or “I” instead using words that resembled unity and empathy (something they both had lacked in their childhood) such as “we” and “us”. With every sugared word you swallowed bile and chewed every insult into the insides of your cheeks. The Red Room was a vile place and you resent it with all that you are, but as you find yourself in this situation you couldn’t help but be thankful for their lessons in mental and emotional manipulation. Without them you don’t know what you would’ve done. 

However, as you lay there with Steven’s arm around your abdomen and your gaze fixed on the calendar that hung on the wall in front of you, you hope you can hang on another forty-eight hours, the day of the appointment. You purposely made it for a day. It would be Steven in charge of the body. He was easier swayed and manipulated than Marc. He would let you go with him to the appointment, he needs you at the appointment. You’re his angel, his love, you would hold his hand as he tells the doctor how badly he sleeps and as the doctor writes the prescription you’ll excuse yourself. It can’t be before the doctor writes the prescription, Steven will get nervous and start looking for you sooner rather than later, as the doctor writes the prescription however the appointment will essentially be over but not quite. He will have to sit there and get the prescription and go to check out where they will have him make another appointment for a check in with the doctor before finally having time to look for you in the stalls. It gives you thirty minutes give or take to escape the building without being detected and stealing a car to get to the next town over where you’ll call your ID guy. If the ID guy proves to be a bust you know Yelena was always on the lookout for ex-black widows and she might help you like Natasha did the last time you needed to disappear. The plan was complicated, sure, it required perfect timing and a shit ton of hope and luck, but it was all you had. You were no stranger to seducing, manipulating, and betraying. They were second nature to you, like a coat you’ve left in your closet for so long but it still fits like you've never abandoned it at all. Still though, you’ve never betrayed someone you had loved before, and the guilt at the thought of Steven’s confused and distraught face like the one he had at the apartment was almost enough to kill you. Steven was relatively innocent in all of this, this wasn’t his plan it was Jake’s. It wasn’t his fault that they shared a body. Still, freedom comes at a price and Steven, Marc, and Jake would never allow such a luxury. 

You find yourself slipping sometimes, finding yourself thinking it wouldn’t be so bad. That this life is exactly what you wanted to begin with, having your cake and eating it too. But you reminded yourself that this life was given to you without choice. That these men might love you in their own way, but all they want in the end is to possess you, to keep you whether it would be willingly or not, with chains or with vows. 

It was later than usual, you knew you needed to sleep. You need all the energy you can get, after escaping in a few days you will probably miss the bed seeing as you don’t know where you’ll be but in either case you doubt you’ll be sleeping with a quilt or a fluffy pillow for a while. You try to sleep, counting sheep proved fruitless and the warmth of Steven’s chest on your back caused your body temp to rise to an uncomfortable degree. But you tried to remain still, you’ve been under worse torture than restlessness and uncomfortable heat, you should be fine. 

…

You were wrong. 

Gently you tried to scoot away from him, hoping to catch some sort of reprieve to no avail. Tried extending your limbs to the cooler parts of your shared blanket in order to cool at least some part of you down but that only helped little, only one foot managed to break free from the too warm confines and that helped significantly but sleeping like that felt too weird (too many horror movies with Jake). You let out a little frustrated huff, your attempts to cool off were met with failure. You were so caught up in trying to cool off you failed to notice the slight stir in the man beside you until you felt his breath next to your ear. 

“Trying to escape again mi carissima?” 

Suddenly, you no longer felt the need to cool off. Instead chills ran down your spine as the urge to hurl crawled its way to your throat. Your body went stiff as you felt him move from your side to leave the bed. You avoided looking at him, the all too familiar feeling of fear and rage made you hesitant to gaze in his direction. You contemplated reaching towards the nearest object and throwing it in his direction. But you looked at the calendar instead, freedom was two days away, you can’t ruin it now by revealing your true feelings. So with a deep, shaking breath in you sat and mustered up all the love and tenderness you could as you gazed at him. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while lover,” you said affectionately as you imagined all sorts of violent, Taylor Swift worthy, things you would rather say to him, “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.” you see him looking at you with apprehension, and what you could almost mistake for guilt. 

“I was giving you space,” he said as he changed out of his sweaty night shirt for a fresh one, your eyes lingered where his sleep pants hung on his hips. Damn, you had forgotten that while the man in front of you was certifiable, he was also hot as fuck, and that if he turned around you knew your eyes would follow south. You couldn’t help it, with hips and an ass like that how could you not look at it and go a little feral. 

“Well,” you cleared your throat a little, forcing your eyes to remain firmly on his face despite the almost magnetic force trying to pull your gaze downwards, “that was probably a wise idea.” 

“I thought I had to do this,” he says, Jake was never one to halfheartedly apologize when he doesn’t believe he should “for us.” 

“Still,” you said, hugging your knees to your chest, “don’t you think you should’ve brought it up with me? To give me a choice?”

“I’m giving you one now,” he said, eyes turning to you for the first time in weeks, “I wasn’t acting right before. I was angry and scared, you were going to abandon us like we didn’t matter. You weren’t even going to tell me the truth, you were going to leave that very night. I became rash, and crazy, and…” his eyes cast down towards the bunched up shirt in his hand, “I hurt you.” He tossed the soiled shirt into the laundry basket before turning his gaze back to you, “So I’ve been staying away, remaining a fly on the wall as I watched you with Steven and Marc. Punishing myself by seeing you but never touching you.” 

“If I didn’t know any better,” you said with anger rumbling in your chest, “I would almost call the tone in your voice remorse.”

“I apologize for hurting you,” he states moving to the side of the bed where he laid moments before, before sitting the mattress sinking with him slightly. “I regret that deeply but I don’t apologize or regret bringing you here.” 

“Then what the fuck are you doing?”

“I am giving you a choice,” he said, eyes bearing into you, “now that you’ve lived here for a while, seen what our life can be like. Will you stay?”

What? 

Your eyes dart between his as your mind struggles to come up with any alternative motives he has behind this. He could be luring you into a false security, be sadistically playing with your feelings as a way to punish you further for trying to leave them behind. 

“What would you do if I went?” 

“I’d follow you,” he says with no hesitance, “I’d follow you anywhere mi carissima, from desert to tundra I’d follow you faithfully and without complaint.” his hands hesitantly grab yours, “I can handle myself, and so can Marc and surprisingly so can Steven. You don’t need to worry about us in a fight, but I will not force us to stay here. The choice is yours.” 

There was a lot to think about, there were many contradictory feelings swirling inside of you. A mix of shock, anger, and the tiniest glimmer of hope were the most prominent. You see his eyes and know he’s being honest. He won't force you to remain in this house they’ve built just for you, but he won’t let you leave him. Though, looking back you guessed you never did want to leave them anyways. You were going to leave to protect them and now that you know they were more than capable of protecting themselves…you weren’t sure. You could always lie and manipulate them further, then leave like you had planned to do since you got here. But you could also stay…you don’t know. 

“Do I have to decide now?”

“No,” he assured, “I won’t force you to,” he grabbed the spare pillow and throw blanket at the end of the bed, “I don't want you to get overheated again so I’ll sleep on the couch. So, don’t worry about making any decisions right now and try to get some rest…goodnight.” and with that he left. Leaving the door open behind him and leaving you in a state of shock and disbelief. You knew eventually you would have to see him again, he was a part of them but you’d never imagine it would go like this. You kind of imagined he would have the same look in his eyes like he did when he stabbed a needle in your neck, to act insane and possessive and obsessive and hold you hostage with no choice in sight. Except he just gave you one, something to ponder the next two days about. 

Dread fills you as the decision lies in front of you. Waiting for you to make a choice. 

Needless to say, you didn’t get any sleep that night. 

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The past two days passed in a blur before you were finally seated next to Steven as he answered the doctors medical questions regarding his overall health. Marc and Steven seemed to have calmed down slightly in terms of spending every minute with you and never letting you out of their sight. It was odd, and now you were conflicted. After Jake’s sudden (and brief) visit your mind had been running a million miles trying to figure out what angle he could be playing. Was this psychological warfare? Was he testing you? 

You excused yourself to the bathroom as planned once the intake was over, mentally your mind began counting down from thirty minutes as you stepped into the bathroom. As expected there were no cameras here in the women’s restroom, which was to your benefit, along with a window. It was smaller than you had expected but it was large enough for you to crawl out of. You were quick to silently click the lock on the door leading to the bathroom before you went to one of the sinks to turn the faucet on. Opening the window and crawling through was bound to make some noise and the rushing water was going to mute some of the noise you would be making. As your hand reaches for the hot and cold knobs you pause. Time was ticking away by the second, every minute you stood there undecided was a minute you could’ve had to get away. Yet here you were. Were you actually considering staying with them? 

It’s horrible, what a few acts of kindness can do. Giving you space, giving you a choice…and you’re a mess. Wasn’t that what you wanted to begin with? A choice? There are only two ways that this plays out, you know this. On one hand you go, you turn the knobs and you run, like you’ve always done, alone. There was no guarantee that Yelena would pick up, there was no guarantee that you wouldn’t be thrusted right back into the life of a mercenary, there was no guarantee that doing this would grant you the freedom you’ve fought so hard and yearned for so long for. Was it freedom if all you did was hide and run? What would happen if you stayed? Jake, Marc, and Steven were an unpredictable risk. Jake could be lying, you wouldn’t put it past any of them to lie and act in order to keep you, even Steven…on the other hand, maybe this was a pattern of yours. Maybe all you ever do in any situation is run, run away from every complex thought and feeling and you never turn back. Maybe the reason you never felt free was because you weren’t meant to be.  You can’t recall the number of times you’ve spent countless night staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping, with gut wrenching guilt as you replay all the terrible things you’ve done as a widow; the people you’ve killed, countries you’ve lead into war that orphaned children, secrets you’ve both hidden and exploited. There were nights you’ve asked for some sort of punishment that would ease the guilt that was slowly killing you. Maybe this was it, maybe this was the punishment. 

Staying, knowing full well that this time there is no evil man behind you pulling your strings, that there was no one to blame but yourself for the outcome. Knowing that your last meaningful act of free will was to throw away the autonomy you had treasured as if it was something solid and tangible in exchange for a gilded cage with no means of escape and constantly wondering if you made the right choice. 

And never knowing if you did. 

Your shoulders slumped as the weight of it weighed heavily. What was it going to be? 

Freedom in exchange for redemption, or redemption in exchange for your freedom. 

You’re not as sly as you think you are–or–as you used to be. Jake had your plan figured out the moment you suggested Marc see the doctor for ‘sleeping medication’. He had to hand it to you, your manipulation tactics were impressive, the collective ‘we’ and ‘us’ and adoring looks and gentle touches were truly inspired. 

You silly, silly little spider…did you really think anything that Jake had told you was true?

////////////////////////////////////////////

Yes, he admits he may have fucked it up a little by going a little bat-shit crazy and sticking a needle into your pretty neck and forcing you into a home that wasn’t finished quite yet. But he made up for it, he let you get this far with your little trick. It was the least he could do, along with offering a fake choice. You weren’t even going to make it to the nearest payphone (which is surprisingly still functional given its obsolete status) before he dragged you back home kicking and screaming if that’s what it took. 

Still, though, he doesn’t like you kicking but as for the screaming (well, given the right circumstances he loves to hear you scream, especially when it’s his name)

So instead of outwardly calling your little game out, he decides to play along, acting none the wiser and giving the biggest performance of his life. 

He knows you like to think yourself a master manipulator, but the truth was that without the constant threat of death and Dreykov’s mind control, your manipulation skills have gotten rusty. A once sharp and carefully polished tool now dull and worse for wear. Against easily manipulated fools like Steven and (sometimes) Marc, it’s effective. But he was the only one who was truly your equal. Jake was the only one who truly understood you. Steven had false memories to comfort him and while Marc and Jake lived with the unhappy ones, and while he wasn’t perfect, at least their dad never forgot Marc’s birthday. Jake had no one, had nothing–not even his own body! Much like you did as a widow. You were the only person who could possibly understand him and by extension he was the only one to understand you. 

There is a strange power in being understood, it’s terrifyingly intoxicating, especially to one who is never understood. Jake had never been particularly interested in salvation or redemption in general, but you became his religion, the altar where he worshiped and the light that baptized him. Worshiping you was as easy as breathing, like it was what he was made to do. So he listened devotedly to every syllable from your mouth and he made a list of all you said. 

Jake had wanted to marry you before showing you the home he had built, (well him, Marc, and Steven), he had it all planned out, the only thing he didn’t plan for was that night. Suddenly his light was taken from him, his comfort, his home, his life was stripped away from him before he could utter a word. 

That would drive any man insane. 

He made a few questionable choices, sure, but he paid for them and now here was his reward. Driving back from the doctors with a prescription he doesn’t intend on picking up with you in the passenger seat. Willingly and holding his hand. 

He smiles, ignoring the way your eyes shine with unshed tears and how your fingers tremble ever so slightly as he pulls your hand for a kiss. None of that matters, you’re with him now. 

With no chance of escape. 

Ever again.

[thisisarcanereverie]

Your Dark MoonKnight fics are my oxygen right now. They are incredible! If your taking requests could i request a #14💔 or #15💔 with a dark Moonknight system?

Monster (DARK! Moon Knight x Fem! Reader)

A/N: So there will be a part 2 to this, I didn't use any of the prompt words but they will be in part 2.

Word Count: 3.8K

WARNINGS: Dark themes; mentions of abuse (domestic, physical, mental),Marc being an absolute wreck of a person, unrequited love, Layla being ooc, Marc being a little ooc, 18 + MINORS DNI.

Summary: Marc has loved you for ten years, ever since he met you, Layla's best friend. But can you truly love the monster beneath the skin?

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Marc has loved you for ten years. 

Not that you ever knew.

You were Layla’s best friend and from the first moment he saw you he felt this instant connection that he had never felt before. It was unnerving how attached he had grown to you by time a year came and went, but he never realized what he was feeling was love until the day he came to ask you for help. 

His mother had just died and he started to feel himself slipping, losing control and for once, he didn’t fight it. But he knew he couldn’t be Steven all the time, being Khonshu’s avatar was keeping him back from that and Steven had started growing suspicious. Leftovers from the night before being covered in mold and dust covering books that he had opened a few hours before. So he came to you, explained everything and asked that you housekeep for him while he was away. Now he knew it was a lot of information, you already knew about Khonshu and the suit, but everything else was new. When you went silent he felt this shame bubble inside him, it was familiar and dark as he already was berating himself for unloading all of this on you. He expected you to run away from him like the monster his mother always called him. Instead you took his war worn hand in yours and smiled at him and agreed, but that you had one condition.

That you became friends with Steven. 

It was in that moment he knew just how deep in love he was with you, like the shit you read about in Greek tragedies or Arabic poems. 

You met Steven eventually and became close. Marc watched like a fly on the wall as every laugh and smile towards him made Steven blush and smile. Every brush of your hand against his would send shivers down his spine. It was almost too good to be true. 

But then he couldn’t hide himself any longer from Steven, the lines keeping them separated were blurred beyond recognition. Steven became aware of everything, Layla, Khonshu, Marc, even the fact that he, himself, was an alter. But everything turned out right in the end. Sure they were still working things out but there was one thing they had in common. You. 

You still do housekeeping for them, three times a week. Marc pays you extra if you get groceries as well because often times than not both him and Steven forget that food is a necessity. Marc or Steven would often help you as you cleaned, although sometimes they would be counterproductive and create a mess while you were still there to keep you around for longer. Once the cleaning was done you tended to stick around, talk about your day and what you were planning this weekend. Even after the hell that had been Khonshu, divorcing Layla, and figuring himself out, you were still there. You would occasionally tell him a thing or two about Layla and what she had been getting into but he didn’t care. Layla was the past, he realized it was doomed from the start and there really had been no other way for it to turn out. 

Today was Thursday, one of the days you came in to clean and make sure he was alright. He had gotten up early and put a pot of coffee on. He knew Steven liked tea better but today was his day with you. He showered and sprayed that good cologne sparingly on his skin, messed his hair in a sexy (but not trying) way, and got his best sweats on along with his tightest shirt, (gotta show off the goods) was how he thought of it. By the time everything was done he sat on the couch and waited. You usually were either a few minutes early or on time exactly. So when ten minutes passed by the time you said you’d be there he was a worried mess. His thoughts raced and Steven’s incessant anxious ramblings didn’t help. 

“London can be dangerous, what if something happened?” 

“What if someone took her?”

“Maybe she didn’t look both ways before crossing the street and now she’s a bloody wreck.” 

Steven was good at coming up with different scenarios of horror, the one thought that shook Marc to his core however was What if she finally realized that I am a monster?

By twelve minutes he was getting his shoes on, no longer able to wait in the apartment wondering what happened to you as he opened the door and saw you. The sight of you immediately relieved the tension in his shoulders and that sinking gut feeling subsided. You smiled and waved as you made your way to him, seemingly nothing amiss. 

“Hey Marc,” You greeted as you slid past him, “sorry I’m late I ran into Layla on the way here and got distracted.” Marc caught a whiff of your hair as you passed him, the sweet and slightly floral scent of apple blossoms brought a smile to his face unknowingly. He wondered if your kiss was as sweet. He was brought back to earth as he heard the dull thud of the brown grocery bag you carried hit the counter. He closed his door and shook away the romantic thoughts that clouded his mind. 

“I was starting to get worried,” Marc said as he helped you unload the bag full of both vegan friendly and not so vegan friendly options and put them in their proper place. “What did Layla say?”

“Nothing much,” you responded as you put the brown paper bag away and began cleaning off the clutter that had gathered on the various counters, “she asked me if I wanted to go to the club with her Saturday.” 

“Oh?” Marc tried not to sound too caught off guard by this. He remembers the club scene, the blinding lights, horrible music, the stench of alcohol, and the crowded dance floor with strangers grinding on each other. It wasn’t a place for a lady like you. “Whatcha say?” 

“I told her sure,” You said, turning to face him with a smile, “I haven’t hung out with her in a while and who knows,” your smile turned mischievous, “I might get lucky.” you winked as you moved past Marc who had, at that point, become a statue. It took everything in him not to press you against the wall and confess right there in some sort of desperate plea to not go. 

Maybe you will get lucky, Marc thought as he turned to watch you put away the books Steven had left out the night before, humming an aria he’s sure Steven had heard before, maybe you will get very lucky indeed. 

Friday came and went and Saturday arrived. Marc had no trouble locating the club you and Layla would be attending. It’s one that he knew well, having been an occupant a time or two when he tried to fuck the feelings he had for you out. A brief time that had lead nowhere but to him looking for you. 

He entered the club and it was just as he remembered, blinding lights, alcohol, and people with no inhibitions left in them. He decided to go to the crowded bar, get himself a beer while he stalked the dance floor from afar, trying to spot you. 

He eventually did, he didn’t know why he expected to be able to think clearly when he spotted you. The multicolored lights reflecting off your hair, the dress that hugged you enough to leave him imagining, and the alcohol induced flush on your cheeks leaving your skin glowing. He knew that if he were to kiss your cheeks right now that they would be warm. His eyes traveled lower as his gaze fixated on the light sheen of sweat that covered you and made you glow. Marc had seen gods and goddesses, he’s seen beautiful places and horrible tragedies. But nothing could compare to you, you who was so full of life that it made him ache. His mind wondered if your body would glow like that in moonlight, how you would sound as he worshiped you like you deserved. Would you gasp or moan, what would they sound like as his war worn hands felt you, how would you feel? He already imagined kissing every curve and stretch mark that stretched across your skin like lightning, he had imagined it every night for almost ten years. 

When he saw you approaching the bar he turned away, back to his beer. He tried his best to blend in with the crowd, even started talking to the person next to him. 

“Marc?” 

Shit

Marc looked up from his beer and met every man's worst nightmare. 

His ex wife. 

“Layla,” He greeted, for all things considered the marriage ended amicably, even after finding out he was part of the reason her father was killed and that he had hid this whole other life from her. 

“You look well,” Layla pointed out, as she quickly flagged down one of the bartenders and asked for a cocktail of some kind, “I thought you hated clubs?”

“I was lonely,” He lied, “decided to try the club scene again.” 

“And?”

“I hate it.” Layla laughed as she called out your name, ushering you over to her. He could see your eyes widen ever so slightly as you saw him. 

“Marc?” 

“Yup.” 

“I thought you hated clubs?” you asked quizzically 

“Still do.” Marc watched you sip from the glass you had before setting it back down at the bar. 

“So why are you here?” 

“Decided to try it again and see if it was any better.” you were about to respond when Layla told you she was headed to the restroom, you offered to join her but she declined. You stood there for a fraction of a beat after Layla left before you both said something. 

“Do you wanna-” 

“Why don’t we-” 

You both laughed for a minute before Marc ushered you to go first. 

“Maybe you’ll like the club a little more once you dance.”

“Are you offering?” 

“A dance,” You said, reaching out your hand, “yes.” his half drank beer was long forgotten as he accepted your hand. It was soft against his own, and oddly a little cold, not that he minded. You led him to the floor as a new song began to play, not that he could really tell. Personal space became minimal as you both danced in time, his hands on your waist as your hips moved in time with the music. His hands never wandered although he desperately wanted them to, he was close enough to you that all he could hear, see, or smell was you. You invaded every sense, except for one, though he wasn’t sure if that was going to be a problem much longer as he drew you closer. He could feel the beating of your heart in time with him, and never for one moment did his gaze stray from you and the way you moved with him. Your eyes shimmering with the lights and a smile adorning your painted lips. It was all so tempting, you were tempting, you were the forbidden fruit hung on a low branch just begging to be eaten. All he had to do was bend down, that’s all, tilt his head and connect your lips with his own and he would finally know what temptation and hope tasted like. 

“I’m going to go look for Layla!” You yelled, though even still Marc could barely hear you over the music. He didn’t even comprehend what you had said, still in a trance, until he could no longer feel the warmth and beating of your chest against his, and his hands no longer held your waist. In a matter of seconds he went from being surrounded by you to being alone on the floor. Marc groaned in frustration as he exited the dance floor himself, ignoring the others who invited him in. He had no intention of dancing with anyone but you. 

He himself was about to enter the men’s restroom when he heard your voice carry into the hall. 

“Layla I swear it’s not like that.” 

“Maybe not for you,” he heard Layla say her voice quivering slightly, “but for Marc, most certainly.”  Marc finally understood what was happening, he was about to leave the hall had it not been your voice responding to her. 

“I don’t like Marc like that, he’s like a brother to me.” . 

“In Alabama maybe.” He could hear the disdain in Layla’s voice. “He loves you, he’s loved you since he first met you. I’ve seen it, he used to whisper your name in his sleep, and when push came to shove he came to you when he needed help…not me, not his wife.” Marc heard the clacking of heels and sink turning on, muffling them a bit. “I suspected it for years but I didn’t want to believe it, I- I didn’t want to believe that all those years were nothing to him but repaying a debt that he owed. Not when they were everything to me.” Marc felt a heavy, painful weight on his chest, one that he was familiar with. It was the same one he had every time he looked at Layla during those years they had spent together. Guilt. 

“Layla,” he heard your voice, soft and apologetic, “I’m not in love Marc.” 

“No, you’re not,” Layla responded, “But you’re intrigued by him at least. That is as clear as day, you like the fact that he’s dangerous. You’ve always liked men like that, the type with full lips to kiss you and a sturdy boot to kick you with.” 

Silence, nothing but Marc’s breathing and the bustling of the club going on to fill it. Not even the sink was running anymore and he was sure that any other woman still in there was keeping silent as well, wanting to see this play out. 

“You’re drunk Layla,” You say, your voice eerily calm, “you don’t mean it, let me call us a taxi and get you home.” 

“Oh I mean it,” Layla said, “I mean every word, I’ll get my own damn taxi homewrecker. Enjoy the club.”  Marc entered the men’s restroom after hearing Layla walk towards the door, and as he waited for a suitable time to pass before exiting thoughts clouded his mind. 

What did Layla mean by you’ve always been attracted to men like him? Layla should never have said that to you, who does she think she is? Layla liked him for the same reasons she claims you did. Are you crying, had Layla made you cry?  The thought of your tear stained face was enough to make him absolutely violent, how dare she make you cry. His nails bit into his palm painfully, he was sure if he unclenched them tiny droplets of crimson dotting along crescent moons would be what he would see decorating his palm. But he didn’t care, he’s never cared about what happens to himself. But to you, oh gods, did he care about you. 

Layla was going to pay for tonight, he promised himself, but right now he needs to comfort you. He needs to make sure you’re ok, because that is all that matters. Period. 

Marc exits the bathroom to already find you in the hall, sure enough he could see unshed tears sparkle in your eyes as you stare at the empty space in front of you. He noticed your body language, you were hugging yourself and seemed to tense every now and then. Marc recognizes that look, those mannerisms and stance, he did the same thing for years before the marines. He takes off his coat and approaches slowly, before softly calling your name. You turned to face him, sharp eyes studying briefly before looking away. 

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked, unsure of what else to say. 

“You heard, then.” You say, “what Layla said.” 

“We don’t need to,” he replied, coming to lean on the wall next to you, “if you don’t want to.” He knows it’s alright if you don’t, he’ll find out one way or another. 

“It was a long time ago,” you said, “I was in this relationship and it wasn’t great. He only hit me once but once Layla saw the bruise on my cheek she almost killed him, she helped me leave him. She gave me a place to stay until I got back on my feet, I went to therapy, I honestly don’t know where I would be if it wasn’t for her.” the tear on your cheek was wiped away almost as fast as it appeared, “it took me years to get here, and her saying that I just-” a sob left you as you sank to the floor while Marc wasn’t far behind. He grabbed your hand and just held it, soon enough your head was leaning on his shoulder. You both didn’t say anything for a long time, just sat there and looked like individual train wrecks. 

After a few more minutes of silence you both hailed a taxi, Marc had insisted that you stayed at his for the night. That you shouldn’t be alone. When you got there neither of you bothered to turn on the lights, the only light filtering in through the window were street lights. But it didn’t matter, Marc lent you a pair of sweats to change into as well as a shirt. He let you have the bathroom first as he made his way to the kitchen to put on a pot of tea. He didn’t like the stuff but Steven certainly did, as well as you. Steven helped instruct him to make a proper cup of tea while you showered, by the time both teas were made you were out of the bathroom, your hair was still damp and hung around your bare face. His clothes suited you well, he thought, you really could be wearing a potato sack and still look like an angel sent from heaven to him. Marc handed you your cup before excusing himself to the bathroom, he took only ten minutes before he was out and dressed. You had already made a bed out of the couch. 

“You can take the bed sweetheart.” He said as he made his way over to you, “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“This is your flat though,” you replied, “I don’t want to intrude.” 

“It’s no intrusion,” He said, “please, take the bed or else I’ll carry you there myself.” 

“I’d like to see you try Moon boy.” You dared, not thinking he would actually do it. A second passed before suddenly you were lifted from the couch and into Marc’s arms. A sharp yelp of surprise came from you as Marc chuckled lightly. He actually enjoyed your reaction far more than he thought he would. Your arms wound themselves around his neck as you held onto him for dear life. He carefully brought you to his bed and set you down gently onto the sheets. Tucking you in before you could protest. 

“Told ya,” He said, his mouth tilting to that side grin of his. 

“I guess you did,” you said breathlessly, eyes never leaving him. 

People are braver in the dark, they do things they never would in the light of day. They dare to lie, cheat, and steal. But they also dare to do wonderful things, like write and dance and sing. But they also dare to love, which is the most dangerous thing of all. 

Without realizing it his hands drifted to cradle your face gently, maybe it was how your eyes looked at that moment. So wide, holding so many unspoken words he knows you must be thinking. Or maybe it was your lips, opened slightly, inviting him to press his against them. Or perhaps, it was just you, everything about you. From every crooked toe on your feet to every stray hair on your head. 

Before he could stop himself he felt himself dip down and capture your lips with his own. God was it intoxicating. You tasted divine, you tasted like something so holy he could only imagine that this is what heaven was like. He could taste the apple chapstick on your lips, along with the mint of his mouthwash. His thumb brushed gently over your cheek as he felt you return his kiss. And just as soon as it had begun it stopped, he pulled himself away. And unsure of what else to say, he only said one thing. 

“Good night.” 

He left the bed and went to the couch where he stared at the ceiling, you must have not known what to say either as you didn’t get up or say anything else. 

Did he push it too far? Were you telling the truth when you said you were not in love with him? Was he reading everything wrong? Would it matter?

He didn’t know when he fell asleep, all he knows is when he woke up you were gone. There were no messages on his phone and you were gone, like he had dreamt last night up. The only reason that he knew he didn’t was that as he laid down on his bed he could still smell apple blossoms and the warmth your body emitted throughout the night lingered. Like smoke from a burnt out candle. 

The days passed by and he was in torment. If he focused enough he could still feel the warmth of your cheek in his hands, and the soft press of your lips. He could even smell fucking apple blossoms. It was torture to have had you so close and so far. Marc had gotten a taste of paradise and everything he had ever wanted and hoped for, only to rip it away from himself and scare you off. Even Steven was of no help, he was in agony too. He was there in the mirror when he kissed you, while if Marc focused he could still feel you; Steven could not. To him it was he had been kissed by a ghost, a wisp of something you could never quite grasp. 

In between the two men moping they slept, they had thought about sending you a message but didn’t. You were radio silent as well, but he didn’t blame you. 

It wasn’t until Tuesday, the day that you usually came to clean did he hear from you again. The London rain had been pouring and Marc had fallen asleep, when he woke up half the day had gone by and your number was blowing up his phone. He immediately answered, wanting to hear your voice, 

“Marc?”  Your voice was trembling, something was wrong. 

“What happened? Are you ok?” “It’s Layla-” you started, “Can I come over?”

[thisisarcanereverie]

Monster (DARK! Moon Knight x FEM! Reader) Part 2 (final)

A/N: This is part 2, this is going to be the last part I will write to this while I focus on some other fics for you guys, Also found the header on pinterest idk who the original maker of it is, if you know please tag them in this post.

Also thank you all for all your lovely comments on the first part of this, It's been a while since I posted so it was great to hear positive things.

Word Count: 2.7K

WARNINGS: Dark themes; mentions of abuse (domestic, physical, mental),Marc being an absolute wreck of a person, unrequited love, Layla being ooc, Marc being a little ooc, 18 + MINORS DNI.

Summary: Marc has loved you for ten years, ever since he met you, Layla's best friend. But can you truly love the monster beneath the skin?

You arrived at his place ten minutes after the call, when he opened the door he wasn’t sure if your face was wet because of the rain or because of the tears. He had ushered you inside immediately and tried to get you warm clothes when you stopped him and handed him something. Neither of you said a word as he opened the crumpled piece of paper you handed him. 

To You, 

By the time you read this I’ll be gone. Maybe that is for the best. 

I know you say you don’t love Marc, not in that way. But I saw the way he looked at you the other night, like you were the sun; and the way he held you. I had been married to Marc for ten years, and never once did he look at me or hold me the way he did you that night. Not even during our wedding. 

You were my best friend. All I’ve ever wanted for you was the best; and while Marc might not have been my best, he’s yours. I was wrong for bringing up ‘him’, I was jealous and bitter and I should never have let it get the better of me. That was fucked up and I regret it. 

I don’t regret leaving though, at least I hope I don’t. I realized something that night, I can’t move forward if I’m stuck in the past, and you and Marc; you’re the past, along with this city. I can’t live here any longer, strolling through streets that we used to, reliving old memories that leave me sick with sadness. I just can’t. And you can’t move forward either, not with me here reminding you of broken promises and trust. I contacted a few people, got myself a new passport, phone number, and identity. As far as anyone is concerned, Layla El-Fouley is a ghost. So please, don’t try to find me. It’s better this way.

I love you both, goodbye. 

Layla. 

Marc held the piece of paper in his hand, something about it off but he didn’t care. All he understood was that Layla, who had been his biggest obstacle, had removed herself. But in doing so, has left you distraught, he could see your hands trembling at their sides and the rim around your eyes puffy and red. It broke his heart to see you like this, so much that he almost wished Layla would come back. 

“Something about it isn’t right.” Your voice was scratchy as you spoke, “I know Layla and she never would’ve done this.” 

“I wouldn’t say never,” Marc put the crumpled piece of paper aside, “she was acting off the other night.” 

“She was drunk,” you defended her, even now, “people say and do things that they don’t mean when they’re drunk all the time.” 

‘Like you?’ Marc thought, his mind bringing up the kiss you both shared. How electrifying it was for him, and he thought for you as well. 

Did you regret it?

Before he could ask you grabbed the paper next to him and stashed it in your pocket. 

“Something isn’t right,” you repeated, “I know it isn’t, I can feel that there’s something wrong. Like it’s something right in front of me and it’s laughing at me in the face.” 

“Calm dow-”

“Don’t,” you say simply looking at him in the face, eyes pointed, “don’t you dare tell me to calm down.”

“Listen,” Marc gruffed, “I know this is hard, Layla was your best friend but maybe you should let this go. You know her, once she makes up her mind that’s the end of it.” He watches as your eyes narrow in on him, studying him. For once he felt vulnerable, like he’s been stripped bare and you could see all of his sins. 

He didn’t like it. 

“You don’t care.” It wasn’t a question, and Marc knew better than to respond. You tore your eyes away from him and laughed, but not the ones that sounded like bells, this was cold and cynical. This was an unfamiliar side to you, one he has never seen. It was like someone had turned off the sun, and all that was left was darkness. 

“She was your wife,” you continued looking anywhere but him, “Layla was your wife, you shared your life with her for ten years. You protected her for years and for what, for now to be the time you stopped protecting her? To say ‘who cares’.” You pushed him away as he tried to get near you, “No Marc, that’s bullshit and you know it.” You grab the coat that you had hung over the chair, “I’m going to find her. Because I care, because right now she is out there and I don’t know if she’s ok. If I find her and she turns me away, fine I’ll go, then I’ll know that she really doesn’t want to see me again and I’ll respect that. But until I know that she is ok, and safe, I’m not going to stop.” 

Frustration rose in him with each step you made to the front door. As soon as your hand touched the knob he removed it, and turned you to face him. 

“So that’s it then,” Marc could feel his control over his emotions slip away, “you’re just going to go and chase a ghost and we’re not going to talk about that night.” his arms caged you against the door. He could see your eyes looking at him, but it wasn’t with the same soft tenderness that he had grown accustomed to, your eyes were sharp and pointed, your brows furrowed leaving a small crinkle in between them. You were silent, fuming really, he was as well. Steven however was telling Marc that he was hurting you. To let go. 

Not this time. 

Suddenly there was a shift in your eyes, the anger was replaced by a look Marc was familiar with. He had seen it plenty of times when you and Steven read books together, you only get that look when you’ve reached the climax or some big reveal was made. 

It was the look you only got when you’ve had a breakthrough. 

“You’re in love with me.” Again, not a question, as soon as those words left your lips it was like a weight had been lifted from him. One that he didn’t know he was shouldering. For years he’s had to keep his feelings for you to himself, never telling anyone let alone you. Now that you know, he doesn’t need to pretend anymore. He doesn’t have to watch from afar. 

You know. 

“Have been since I first saw you,” Marc confessed as a giddy feeling took over, “God you have no idea how good it feels to say that.” His hands went from your shoulders to cradle your face, his forehead touching yours, he didn’t even notice how tense you had become. “You have had no idea what it’s been like to love you.”

   “Marc,” you finally gain enough confidence in your voice to speak. He opens his eyes and looks into yours, he denies what he sees. He tells himself that those tears in your eyes aren’t because you pity him or don’t feel the same way. It’s because you’re so in love with him that it’s overwhelming, or that the doorknob is digging uncomfortably into your back as he presses you further into it, or that he’s accidentally stepping on your toe. Anything but that you don’t love him. “Please let me go.” 

“Never baby,” He breathes, “now that I have you why would I ever let go?”

“Marc,” You say, “Steven,” you try. But nothing, Steven went into hiding and Marc felt like he was on cloud nine. How addicting you had become, the mere thought of letting you out of his arms was enough to make him weep. “I have to go, please.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Marc says, your words cutting through him like a serrated blade. “You don’t have to go, you never have to go.” 

“Please Marc, you're hurting me.” It was only then he noticed how tight his grip had become on you. He immediately let go, as you breathed a sigh of relief. He still pinned you against the door, but his grip was lighter, he had gotten carried away without knowing. 

“I’m so sorry baby,” he whispered apologies as he kissed where his hands had been. Lingering every kiss longer than the last. 

“Marc,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to go an octave higher, “I’m feeling hungry do we still have food in the fridge?” Right you must be starving, you probably didn’t eat anything yet today. 

“There might be something left,” he said gently leaning away from you and walking towards the fridge, “let me go check real-” the last thing he remembers was the sound of the front door slamming before everything went black. 

When he came to it looked like half the day already went by, and there was this bone deep ache in his body. At first he thought he was still in his apartment but upon closer inspection he quickly realized it was definitely someplace else. 

“buenos dias pendejo,” Marc quickly whipped his head around, seeing no one. At least, until he saw the mirror. The man before him was not him, or Steven. It was someone new. 

A new altar.

“Fuck me.” 

“No thank you.” 

“Who are you?” Marc asked, feeling a headache already coming.

“Jake Lockley,” He revealed

“How long have you been here?” 

“A long time,” Jake said, his voice still holding a small latin accent, “we have a mutual friend.” 

“Who in the hell-” Marc asked until he caught a familiar figure looming behind his altar’s reflection in the mirror.

Khonshu

“We meet again, Marc Spector.”

“No,” Marc said, his hands already tangled in his curly hair, “Nononononononono-” He kept repeating as if willing it away. As if the simple word ‘no’ was going to help him escape this hell. All of that, the pain and suffering and sacrifice it took to get rid of Khonshu.

In the end it didn’t mean a goddamn thing. 

“Cálmate Marc,” Jake tried to sooth, “everything will be ok.” 

“Why is he here?!” Marc asked, “I got rid of him, why is he here!” 

“Because of me,” Jake said, “I needed a purpose and he needed a Knight. I only took up the job you and that pequeño cobarde, Steven, refused.” Marc put his head in his hands, of course, of fucking course this was happening. How could he and Steven be so stupid. Khonshu would never have agreed to honor their deal unless he had something under his tattered sleeve. Really, he should’ve seen it coming. Maybe he knew, deep down, but denied it, hoping it would go away. All those times during Ammit where he and Steven would black out  and bodies piled around him. But he always pushed it down, denied it, anything but addressed it. 

Ultimately, this was all Marc’s fault, and he knew it. 

The clanking of chains suddenly made it to Marc’s ears as he turned in its direction, only to be met with you. Your ankle was chained to the bed frame, it creaked as you turned on the mattress. It was then Marc remembered what happened. 

You knew. 

You finally knew of Marc’s feelings, and while he may have lost himself a bit in the reverie of it all, you shouldn’t have tricked him like that. You distracted him while you ran, maybe if you didn’t run you both wouldn’t be here right now. 

But he can’t place the blame on you, how were you supposed to know how fucked up he truly was when he didn’t even know. 

“You should be thanking us worm.” Khonshu’s arrogant voice rang out, back when Marc was his primary Avatar that voice would fill him with dread. 

It still did. 

“Why?” Marc said to the towering god, “for going back on your word, for taking advantage of me and using my own alters against me?” 

“You insolent-” 

“No,” Jake interrupted, “You should thank us for getting rid of the one thing that was going to keep you happy.” 

“And what would that be?”

“Layla,” Jake revealed, a blood curdling grin stretching across his face. Marc could feel the temperature drop around him as he processed it. If he focused enough he could hear a faint echo of a gunshot, the familiar burn of the recoil. 

“She didn’t suffer,” Jake comforted, “I made sure she didn’t. But she was standing in the way of our happily ever after so to speak.”

Marc didn’t know if he should feel pleased or guilty. 

Maybe the lines between the two have been blurred beyond hope. 

“She’ll never forgive us.” 

“Then let that be the case,” Jake retorted, “we don’t need her forgiveness, we just need her.” Marc wanted it though, he wanted her forgiveness, craved it, like she alone could atone for all the hellish things he’s done. One thing was nattering away at him however, and his shadow loomed over him and shrouded him in darkness as he always had. 

 “What did you promise Khonshu for this?” Marc asked, “because he never does anything for

free.” 

“It was a gift.” Khonshu explained casually, “you see Marc, I reward faithful Avatars, something you can be again.” 

Before he could tell the bird to fuck off he heard you take in a sharp breath. His eyes tore themselves away from Khonshu and onto your frame. He could hear Steven faintly telling him to unchain you. But the darker part of him, one that wasn’t sure was Jake’s or his, told him no. That this is what he deserved, after all these years of pining and agony, this was his reward. 

You were his reward. 

The only light that illuminated you was the moon, casting you in its ethereal glow. 

“I will admit this Marc,” Jake said, “She looks like a dream come true.” 

Sure enough you did, you always did to him. Marc could hear Steven quieting, he could sense him enough to know he was observing, but nothing more. 

Your eyes landed on him and immediately you backed up until your back hit the backboard. 

“You can unchain her if you want,” Jake said, “She can’t escape here.” 

Marc did exactly that, not wanting the cuff to bruise your ankle. He was surprised when you didn’t move after, or that you didn’t try to run away. You were still, studying him like you did back at the apartment. 

Only now your eyes were tinged in fear. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Marc assured, “I’m not like that.” 

“I used to think that too,” You quipped while your eyebrows furrowed and your nails dug into the sheets beneath you, “I used to think a lot of things.” a moment of silence before you continued, “like how great you were and how lucky I was to know you, or how you were just misunderstood. I know better now, meeting you was the unluckiest moment in my entire life and I didn’t even know it. And you’re not misunderstood,” You leaned closer, eyes narrowed as nothing but pure hate filled them cutting him deep, “you’re just a monster.” Before you knew it he leaped from the bed away from you. 

“NO!” He screamed hot tears filling his dark eyes, “no.” he repeats quieter this time his hands gripping his hair in a death grip, “You don’t get to say that to me, not you.” After a few more seconds of sobbing he calms down, you look at him with nothing but pity and contempt. “You love me,” he says voice hoarse, “you just need some time.” He walks shakily to the door and opens it, and before you could run towards it again he walks through and locks it behind him. You just needed some time alone, that’s all, to see that he loves you. 

That while he may be a monster. 

He was yours for better or for worse. 

He was your monster.

[thisisarcanereverie]

the Sacrifice Play (DARK! Moon Knight x Reader) the Knight and Pawn Series

MINORS DNI

TRIGGER WARNINGS: DARK THEMES, YANDERE/DARK MOON KNIGHT, DEATH!

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“Marc,” you laugh shouted, your curly haired friend just poked your sides and started to run away, beckoning you to follow suit. You both had graduated highschool two months prior and you both had saved up for this trip, away from the city and into a cabin. You realized how horror movie stupid that was but it didn’t matter, your guardians couldn’t care less about where you were and as for Marc, that smiling and goofy friend of yours, his couldn’t care either. 

You ran through the woods, hoping over logs and moving rebel branches out of your way, green blurred past you as you tried to catch up with him. Finally you managed to reach him, out of breath and your lungs greedily inhaling the air it was deprived of. It was a creek with various kinds of stone surrounding it. Looking down you quickly searched for a flat rock, you actually managed to find something suitable soon. Its smooth flatness made it perfect for skipping. For a while that’s all you and Marc did, even made it into a competition to see who could get the most skips before just sitting there at the creek, watching it ripple and flow. It was calming, serene. You could feel his warmth seep through his hand in which he held yours. Neither of you said a word, you were just present. Secretly this was one of the things you came to love about Marc, you never needed to fill the air with conversation. He was content to just be once in a while. 

It wasn’t until the sun began to set and stars became visible that Marc and you started heading back, your hands never leaving each other. 

You finally made it back to the small cabin, it was all you and Marc could afford to rent for the week until you had to go back. The sun had set a while ago and you could see the night sky more clearly than in Chicago. 

“Would you look at that Marc,” You said, pointing to all the stars and the moon in the sky, you smiled as you picked out a few constellations, not paying attention to the midnight eyes beside you, looking at you like you were the world, “You don’t see that in Chicago,” You mused, “it’s so beautiful.” 

“Yeah,” Marc said, his eyes unwavering at you, “it is.” 

You looked beside you and saw his eyes, something in them made you sad. 

“What’s going on,” You asked as you gave his hand a squeeze, “Whatever it is you can tell me.”

Marc looked at his shoes before motioning you to sit next to him, you let go of his hand and sat yourself next to him in the old chair that came with the place. 

“I’m leaving next month,” He said, “we won’t be seeing each other for a while and I’m scared.” This took you aback, you knew of Marc’s departure but he so rarely revealed what he was feeling, let alone fear. 

“Can’t blame you.” You said, Marc shook his head. 

“I’m not afraid of the violence,” He said, “I’ve seen a lot of that, I’m afraid that when we see each other again we won’t be this close anymore.” 

You understood where he was coming from,

You had the same fears. 

“Only you Marc Spector would be more afraid of silly ol’ me than the violence of combat.” You said lightly before putting your head on his shoulder, “I’m going to miss you everyday.” You said, “You’re my best friend, and I love you. And when you come back home to me, I’ll still be your best friend, and I’ll still love you. Much like how you’ll still be my best friend when you come back, just with a few adjustments. All I care about is that you come back, so promise me you’ll come back.” 

“I can’t make promises I can’t keep”

“Make an exception,” you said, “just this once, just promise me you’ll come back.”

“Only if you promise that you’ll be waiting for me when I do.”

“I promise, pretty face.” You said, closing your eyes. 

“I promise too, starlight.” Marc said, the steady rise and fall of your shoulders let him know you fell asleep, he took advantage of this to sneak a gentle kiss to your forehead, “I’d promise you anything.” 

—

You don’t remember coming home, all you remember is hitting your soft sheets, Alec already sleeping and falling into one of the deepest sleeps of your life. Memories of yesterday flash through your mind and suddenly you are up. You didn’t bother dressing up, wearing the clothes you wore the day previous you raced to grab your shoes at the door. 

You were damned if you let Marc bully you like this, keeping the people you loved as a sword hanging above your head. You spot your fiance at the stove, you admire him for a moment. Trying to burn the image of your silly, and beautiful alec dancing to abba’s dancing queen while cooking breakfast, illuminated by the morning light, into your mind forever. You wanted this to be the memory that stuck with you. 

The moment so beautiful was short lived as Alec noticed the look on your face, one he often described as sorrowful. He placed the pan of eggs and raced toward you, cupping both of your cheeks with his hands. 

“What’s wrong, lovely,” He asked, concerned, it took all of you not to bury yourself into his arms and weep. You had to be strong, for him you would be strong. 

“I have to go back to the office,” You said, a half baked excuse, “I won’t be long, they just misplaced some files and I have the last duplicate on my desktop.” You kiss his hands before placing one on his lips, the sweet scent and taste of him almost relaxes you. 

“But it’s your day off-”

“I promise I’ll be quick,” you said, “just stay here until I come back, promise me.”

“I’d promise you anything” You kissed his lips before replying. 

“I love you.” 

— 

“So you have a request Agent?” Monica asked. 

“Yes I do,” You confirmed, “you have close connections with the FBI and CIA correct?”

“Yes, where is this leading to?” “I need to place Alec Maximillion Hamilton in immediate, emergency witness protection program.” You said the urgency in your voice apparently. You could see Monica’s dark eyes widen in surprise. 

“Why do I need to place your fiance in witness protection?”

“I just need you to trust me on this.” You urged, Monica studied you. Your fists were clenched, your forehead was sweating and your eyes were electrified. She knew exactly what was wrong with you. 

You were afraid. 

“Obviously there is something going on,” Monica said, “maybe if you told me I can help.” 

“No,” You shook your head, “the less people know the better. I promise one day I’ll tell you if I have the chance. But as of right now, I just need those papers and protection.” 

Over the course of the time Monica has met you, she knew when you were being serious, and afraid. Seeing both of those on your face at the same time however, was terrifying. 

“I’ll call Jimmy Woo and pull some strings,” Monica said, “Go home to Alec, get him ready Jimmy will probably be around there by three.” 

You reached over and thanked her profusely before setting an immediate beeline back home. 

—

“SWORD just faxed me your new papers,” You said as you handed Alec his new passport, social security, as well as work documents, “What time is it now?”

“It’s almost seven.” Alec announced, meanwhile Jimmy was late. He called earlier and said something about car troubles. 

“Ok Jimmy should be here at any moment,” You said, straightening the collar of his shirt, a simple act you cherished but won’t be able to do again. His hands envelop yours and forces you to look him in the eye. 

“Come with me,” He said. 

“I can’t,” You said, tears in your eyes, “I can’t, he’ll find me. The best I can do now is make sure he can’t find you.” He placed your forehead on yours and brought your hand to his chest, the thrumming of his heart calmed you, you tried to memorize the beat of it, searing it into your memory. The moment ended with a quick vibrate sound in your jeans. You took your phone out and a cold feeling enveloped you. 

“RUN - JIM WOO” 

“We have to go now!” You said not wasting a second before grabbing Alec’s hand and practically dragging him through the front door, car keys in hand. Taking your car was a risk but it was faster and Alec needed to get to a place of safety. Marc was already taking your life away, You weren’t about to let him take Alec as well. 

You looked in the back mirror and saw a familiar armor of white, terror filled you. 

“GET DOWN!” You shouted at Alec who complied immediately, You put the car in reverse and floored the gas pedal. You jolted from the force and a resounding thunk hit the car. You didn’t waste any time to change it to drive and got the hell out of dodge, once again the force jolted both you and Alec. 

“Did you just hit Moon Knight with your car?” 

“Yeah” You said, “we’ve got to get you to SWORD Headquarters or to the nearest bus leaving the city. Somewhere where you’ll be out of his reach.” You said as you broke almost all driving laws. 

You were nearly at the SWORD Headquarters when you noticed people gather and take photo’s, gawking at something above. You took a quick glimpse and saw a blur of white, heading in the same direction as you. 

“Shit,” You muttered before taking the sharp right onto a one way street, “change of plans, our only shot is a bus out of the city, Marc was following us to SWORD.” You swerved to avoid the oncoming vehicle, not caring about the blaring horn and the obvious middle finger aimed at you. 

“Call the transportation department and ask when the next bus is leaving.” 

—

Luckily the next bus was in fifteen minutes and was an almost empty bus, it was leaving for a round trip across state borders. 

You got there, and before you could say anything Alec spoke. 

“Two tickets on the bus going to New York.” Alec said, your eyes widened as he paid the lady at the desk before he dragged you to the loading site. 

You were about to tell him how bad an idea it was when you saw the lights flicker. You could see Alec’s face harden as he looked behind you, without breathing you followed his gaze. A familiar white hooded figure with glowing eyes stalked you, Marc’s anger came off in waves as well as his bloodlust, You were about to yell at the driver to floor it when strong hands practically pushed you on the bus, You didn’t have time to react before Alec closed the doors on the bus. 

“Alec what are you doing!” you exclaimed, “Alec! Open the door!” You pound your hands against the glass of the door, trying to get to Alec. You saw him shake his hand with a small smile, He placed his hands against yours, the barrier of the glass separating the two of you. Even though you couldn’t hear him, you saw him mouth something. 

“I love you.” 

You pounded harder on the door hoping to break the glass, but it wasn’t any use. The door opener was jammed, Alec turned away from you. His amber eyes hidden away from you as he walked to the white bandaged figure. 

“ALEC!” you yelled, when Alec reached Marc it became silent. For one moment, the entire world ceased moving, ceased breathing. And then, within a single moment, Marc’s hands were around Alec’s head and just like that, with a sickening crack and twist Alec’s body crumpled to the ground. His neck bending at an odd angle and you saw those amber eyes you loved so much, how they caught the morning sun in them and shone brightly when looking at you, became lifeless. His eyes unblinking, dim as can be. 

He was dead. 

The heartbreaking screech that came out of you was unnatural. You sobbed and screamed at the top of your lungs. Finally the door opened, you immediately went to his side. You skid your knees as you held him, begging him. 

You don’t exactly know when you blacked out, but when you woke up, Alec was gone and the familiar patter of London rain could be heard outside. 

Marc had won.

[thisisarcanereverie]

Checkmate (DARK! Moon Knight x Reader) Knight and Pawn series (FINAL CHAPTER)

Hey here it is!!! Thank you guys so much for sticking around and loving this series as much as you do. unfortunately all good things have to end, and this is the final chapter. (I know I kinda left ya at a cliff hanger.) I was originally was gonna post it a week from now but I kinda needed the distraction and next thing you know over 5k words later and I finished it.

Again thank you to everybody who loved this series!!

also don't be afraid to send asks or requests for fics!!

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Arcane Reverie on Tumblr

COMPLETE MASTERLIST / FANDOM LIST / LINKS TO MY OTHER ACCOUNTS!

You love Marc. 

You have always loved Marc. 

You remind yourself of every good quality your husband has as you pace in front of the sink where three tests lay waiting. You were anxious and began to shake as time seemed to be moving aggravatingly slow. 

What if you were pregnant? How would he take it? How would you take it? 

Both of you didn’t grow up with the best examples, your parents died when you were young and were neglected by your guardians, meanwhile Marc’s mother was a terror and his father only excused her cruel actions and words. Would you both be able to handle raising someone, could you be better than them?

You had been mindlessly washing dishes earlier when you had cut your finger on a knife. You had hissed and looked to assess the damage, you dried your hands and went to put a bandaid on it or something. When you had that taken care of, you looked at the previously white rag, now stained with red. You had no idea why you were staring at it until this cold tingle went down your spine as your hand unconsciously drifted over your abdomen as the question came to mind. 

When was the last time you had your period?

It had only been a month since the wedding and Marc moving you and him back to the states where he bought a large home in a gated community. Apparently the community was for people like him, superheroes. You remember meeting quite a few of them, all of them with their wives. Wanda Maximoff and her wife being the friendliest out of all of them although Wanda’s wife seemed to be a ball of nerves sometimes.  

And before that you had a freak accident, you couldn’t remember it if you tried, and you have, only to be met with migraines so intense it made you vomit. You only remember feeling Marc holding you tightly against him and sobbing. You tried asking him about it only to be met with sad eyes and “I don’t wanna relive it.” 

And you can’t really remember much else before then, probably because life was so calm and normal that it just slipped your mind, time passes by quickly when you’re not paying attention. 

You just know you and Marc had always been together. 

The loud beeping of the timer echoed throughout the bathroom, ripping you from your thoughts. You debated looking at them, maybe if you didn’t know it would go away like it never happened, but at the same time you wanted to know. You didn’t know how to feel about it, you were sick to your stomach but at the same time you can’t stop picturing a tiny child with dark hair like their father and eyes like their mother, you can practically hear them laugh and hear their feet patter against the overall quiet home you live in and instead of it terrifying you. 

It made you feel warm and happy. 

You were terrified, an overall mess of conflicting emotions, you breathed in for a moment and much like ripping off a stubborn bandaid you quickly picked up all three tests. 

Pregnant

You guessed you were in shock because suddenly a still calmness enveloped you, similar to acceptance. You carefully hid the pregnancy test in an old box that Marc never went through in the back of the closet, not yet ready to share the news. 

You then went about the day like normal. 

You finished the dishes, swept the floor in the living room, painted in your home studio, and looked up a recipe for dinner. You just thanked god that the weekly tea and bunch that all the ladies of the community have was pushed back due to the rain. You don’t know how you would handle being around other people at this moment. 

You had finished cooking and were setting the table when you saw your husband walk through the door. At some point you just began to assume it’s Marc since Steven came out mostly for work and cuddling, while Jake has been allusive after the accident months ago. Almost like he was avoiding you. 

Oh god you just realized it wasn’t just Marc who you would have to break the news to, how would your boys handle it?

“Everything alright Starlight?” You hear Marc ask sweetly, his jacket had already been hung up and he was making his way to you, his eyes concerned, “you look pale, are you having those migraines again?” His hand went to hold your face when you flinched, an action that even shocked you. You were quick to grab his hand and kiss his open palm. You smiled at him and willed yourself to calm your excited nerves. 

“Everything is perfect Pretty Boy,” You assured him, “why don’t you get changed and I’ll finish setting the table.” Marc looked apprehensive before placing a kiss on your lips and a silent, “i’ll be right back”. 

Dinner had proceeded normally, Marc had practically inhaled his food, having skipped lunch to come home earlier to you. You both talked about your day, you had conveniently left out the three positive pregnancy tests currently hiding in the closet. 

Marc had helped with the dishes and at some point, some slow song began to play from the radio. Which led to him pulling you both away from the sink and to dancing in the middle of the kitchen, one hand on the small of your back and your hands playing with the ends of his hair. You both hummed to the song as love filled the room. You pressed your forehead against his as you both just swayed away any troubles. By the time the song ended, it felt like this morning had been days ago. 

You loved your life with Marc. 

But would Marc still feel the same way knowing that there was about to be a new member to your new family?

—

It had been days since you took those tests. 

With each day you felt like you were keeping a secret from him and you were getting anxious, not ever being able to keep a secret from Marc for long. And you knew Marc was getting suspicious, not letting him anywhere near the closet, staring out of windows a lot with a far off look, You knew he was being patient but you didn’t know how long that patience would last. 

Finally Marc had a day and night off from Steven’s business and from his Moon Knight duties and you decided today would be the day you told him. 

You had originally planned to do it in the morning, once again ripping the bandaid off, but was….pleasantly distracted by him. Multiple times….in a row. 

God it was no wonder you were in your current situation. 

Then you wanted to tell him at breakfast, but before you could Marc suggested taking a trip to the local beach. He had made sure when moving to move close to one, that dream of visiting the ocean and having you there with him came true. 

You decided that maybe Marc would react better in public. 

Then you got to the beach only to realize that maybe not there, in case he didn’t want this pregnancy you didn’t want this beach to become a tainted place. 

The day passed by quickly, before you knew it you went from laying on the beach enjoying the fresh salt tinted air before the sun was beginning to set on the horizon and you were both eating dinner at home. Having take out from your favorite place. 

There had been a moment of silence as you built up your courage. You knew you would have to put this delicately to him, he was always prone to hysterics. 

“Marc,” You said, He immediately perked up his attention solely on you. You never called him Marc, only your Pretty Boy. Whenever you called him Marc it was because he made you mad or you were serious. 

Both scared him. 

“Yes, my beautiful starlight.” Marc said, adding an extra adjective in front of your typical nickname, hoping the compliment might lighten whatever mood had taken over. 

“So the other day I cut my finger in the kitchen,” You said, Marc following every word, “I went to put a bandaid on it when something was brought to my attention.” 

Oh god did you know?!

Marc could feel his anxiety bubbling up as fear took a hold of him. 

“I’m late.” 

What?

Marc tilted his head in confusion as though he wasn’t following. 

“What um, what were you late for?” He asked nervously, not really following what plans you had made that day that would warrant the look on your face right now. 

“I wasn’t late for anything,” You gently explained as you held onto his hand, “I mean I’m late.”

Marc still wasn’t getting it. 

You sighed and decided to hell with subtlety. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

It seemed like Marc hadn’t heard you at first, he hadn’t moved in well over a minute since you told him. You were about to touch his shoulder when he slumped forward, limp. 

At first you were worried he had died from the shock, but his steady pulse and breathing indicated otherwise. After a few seconds, he came to. Although from the adorably confused look on his face that it wasn’t Marc. 

“Hello sweetheart,” Steven greeted with a sweet kiss to your cheek once he gained his barings, “forgive me for saying this, because I’m not complaining at all, but why am I here? I thought today was Marc’s day with you.” 

If Marc was completely oblivious with subtlety before you knew Steven would be more so. 

“I’m pregnant.” You said. 

Silence. 

“I thought your name was (Y/n)?” 

You loved him but right now your patience was thin. 

“No Steven,” You said calmly, placing a hand over your stomach, “We’re going to have a baby, I’m pregnant.” 

Silence once again filled the room before Steven started hyperventilating, you tried calming him down only for him to slump over, his frame once again limp as you concluded that he, indeed, passed out. 

And much like before not even five minutes later, he’s up again with another confused look. Only now, when his eyes land on you, you see immense guilt and sorrow in them. 

Those eyes hurt the most. 

“Hola Angel,” Jake greeted, his eyes looking away from you, “I didn’t know I was going to see you today.”

“I’m pregnant.” You stated, you saw him stiffen before his eyes immediately darted to yours. Searching for any hint of a joke, finding none he knew this was it…the point of no return. Marc had won, completely and utterly. 

You were doomed, and there was nothing Jake could do to save you. 

“Are, are you um…merida,” Jake cursed in Spanish as you saw a cold sweat break out on his forehead. This man who had killed more people than he could count and enjoyed it was breaking out in a cold sweat over the fact that you were pregnant, “Estas segura?”

“Si,” You said cradling his face, “Si mi Amor” 

Time seemed to move slowly around him, and for you as well as you waited for the reaction, waited for him to oppose, or to love it, you didn’t know which one you wanted. 

You weren’t sure much about anything.

Suddenly, much like the other two, he slumped forward, limp. Instead of being incredibly concerned, you waited patiently, knowing in a few seconds either Marc or Steven would pop back up. 

Sure enough, a few seconds later he’s revived, and at this point the nerves inside you were making you more impatient by the second. Once again by the look he gave you, you knew which one he was right now. Those dark eyes that held so much love that it scared you sometimes, love and obsession. 

“Are you done?” you asked impatiently, already quite annoyed by his fainting over the news. After a few minutes Marc nodded, although shakily. 

“How, uh, how long have you known?” 

“Almost a week,” You revealed, “I was in shock for the first day and a half, but I wanted to wait until you could freak out properly before telling you.” 

Silence passed between you as you reached for his hand and took it, squeezing it in comfort, to ground him from his thoughts. 

“What, um, shit,” Marc cursed, here he was freaking out while you were the one who was pregnant, “what do you want to do?” 

“I don’t know,” You said honestly, “I thought we could talk about this and decide together, you, me, Steven, and Jake.” You saw Marc grimince at the mention of Jake but understood where you came from. If he had it his way Jake wouldn’t get a vote or say anything, but as you’ve pointed out he was very much there. 

Even though Marc could still feel the sting of betrayal at the thought of him. 

“I’ll go first,” You said, pulling Marc from his thoughts, “I don’t know if we’re ready, I mean we never talked about it and we didn’t have the best examples growing up…but,” You paused, “I think we are not the people who raised us. You are not your mother, and I am not my guardian. I think if we both work hard and hold each other accountable, I think we may be able to pull it off.” You already knew you both wouldn’t be perfect, that you’ll fall short somewhere along the line. But a deep part of you, one that was selfish and irrational, wanted to give this a shot.  But you knew if Marc said no, along with Steven and Jake, then you knew not going through with the pregnancy would probably be a wise choice, you would not bring a kid into this world only to be rejected by the other person who made them. You just wouldn’t. 

Marc thought for a while, what would a kid with you look like? Memories of his past still haunted him, but all that he could see is a kid with dark curly hair and your eyes. He could see you laughing as you played with them, he could imagine the sleepless nights, the angsty teenage years, he could see going through it all with you. And you with a smile on your face as you’ve gotten what you deserve. 

A family and a home filled with unconditional love. 

Marc knew that if you both went through with this, you absolutely must never know about the events that lead up to this moment. Hiring a P.I to track you, you falling in love with that P.I only for Marc to kill him in front of you, threatening you, abducting you, killing those you loved in your name, and ultimately your attempt a few months previous to escape him, and how it ended with him sacrificing himself to keep you. 

Marc knew he didn’t deserve you, that what he did was fucked up beyond belief. He understood that quite well. 

But right now he can’t stop imagining a bundle in your arms, cooing as sunlight hit you. 

And he couldn’t say no. 

“She would be a wonderful mother,” Steven said in the mirror, Jake however was silent but Marc could sense it. Jake wanted this child just as much as Steven and him. 

“We will try our best,” Marc said finally, “I will read every parenting book ever made if that’s what it takes.”

You felt like crying, a massive weight was just lifted off of your shoulders and you felt like you could finally breathe. 

But as you wept into Marc’s chest and the night continued, a dark foreboding feeling lingered at the back of your mind. 

You weren’t sure what that was about. 

—

~8 months later~

You woke with a start, you clutched your chest as your heart beat rapidly. You felt damp, all over and you tried to even your breathing as you closed your eyes and counted back from a hundred. But every time you closed your eyes you would get these flashes. It wasn’t the first one, they would happen sporadically, never making sense, but they would always be accompanied with a strange sense of deja vu. Most of the time they didn’t make any sense and they didn’t last very long. Like you staring out of the window, you seemed to have a lot of flashes about staring out of a window, staring out into a world just beyond your reach. Then there are flashes of you reading books, and living inside this penthouse full of windows. 

Then there were others. 

You would be in some run down place with a woman with short curly brown hair, with freckles dusted along the apples of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. You don’t know why but you felt like you knew her, that you loved her to some degree.

But how could you love a woman you’ve never met?

Then there were days you were unfamiliar with, you were happy, you dressed in business attire and did a typical nine to five day. You came home with a satisfied smile on your face. 

But you don’t know who you were coming home to everyday. 

You only remembered something about amber eyes. Whenever you see flashes of amber eyes your heart always hurts, like it’s been stabbed and you have no idea why. Oftentimes you would leave to go to the bathroom and cry because of the pain in your chest. 

You didn’t want to worry Marc. 

Strangely enough you never had flashes of Marc, or Steven, or even Jake. 

For some reason it unsettled you. 

You go to move when you feel a pop, and suddenly you go from damp to soaked. You looked down and sure enough there was a puddle on the ground that wasn’t there before. 

Fuck

“Marc,” You say as he grumbled in return, “Marc,” You tried again as he stirred awake. 

“What is it, Starlight?” He asked, reaching for your hand, “another craving?”

“My water broke.” You said casually, a long moment passed before you felt him springing from his side of the bed and rushing over to you, almost slipping on the puddle in the process. 

“Ok,” He starts slowly, a complete contrast to his previous actions, “ok, stay um stay right there I’ll go get the hospital bag.” Before you could say anything, he was rushing around your home like a headless chicken. You smiled as you burned this memory into your mind, this memory of your goofball husband that you loved not remembering that he put the bag in the car a week ago. 

“Shit,” He curses looking in the mirror, “STEVEN DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO THE BAG!?!” You get up and start to look for the simplest thing to wear that wasn’t your night clothes. 

“I don’t know I don’t know,” Steven says as you calmly fish out a casual maternity sundress. It was a warm night and you had a feeling you wouldn’t be wearing jeans for a hot minute. 

“Idon’tknowIdon’tknow.” You hear Steven repeat as Marc switches back in order to calm Steven down. You casually put the sundress on and casually strolled by your husband to grab a pair of slippers. After slipping the shoes on without bending down which took a couple of minutes. After seeing that even after all that Marc still doesn’t remember you decide to help him. 

“Marc,” you said sweetly as he was still looking for the bag, “Marc,” You repeated as you touched his arm. He looked at you as if just remembering that you were there and that you were the one whose water was just broken. 

“You should sit down,” Marc said as he gently ushered you in a chair, “we may have to go without the bag we should get dressed-wait a minute,” Marc suddenly stops himself as he notices your change of attire, “when did you get dressed?”

“While you were running around like a headless chicken,” You answered simply, “and you put the bag in the trunk last week because you knew you were going to act like this.” 

“I don’t think that was my thoughtful planning.” Marc said, before the subtle change happened. The frightened look in his eyes was replaced with concerned but calm ones. 

“No, that would be me,” Jake said. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Steven asked before he changed back to Jake. 

“The Host never asked.” He replies before helping you out of the chair gently, “let’s go angel.” Jake calmly helped you to the backseat of the car, making sure you were taken care of before going and changing himself. It was just a shirt and sweatpants but better than the pair of boxers he was wearing before. 

—

The drive was relatively short to the hospital, however as soon as you got there the contractions started. 

Apparently, your contractions were happening sooner rather than the 12 or so hours later. 

Honestly, the whole birthing process was a blur to you, you felt the pain but you don’t remember Marc holding your hand. 

With each contraction you were back in those visions, those flashes, only this time they had Marc. 

You saw that curly haired woman again, and you saw them together, kissing. You felt your heart ache as you heard her name. 

Layla. 

Another contraction you saw yourself all bruised and battered, barely breathing as people beat you. And out the corner of your eye you saw Marc, dressed as Moon Knight, escape with Layla in his arms. 

Visions kept happening with each contraction, you and Marc fighting, a man named Alec, SWORD. 

You see yourself, trapped on the bus, you had never looked that afraid before, the look of terror etched to your face as you pounded against the door of the bus. You walked closer to Alec and Marc not expecting to hear them over your screams. 

“You’ll never have her,” Alec said his amber eyes were the ones that hurt you, “even if you kill me you’ll never have her.” 

“And why is that?” You hear Marc ask mockingly. You studied him, you could tell by the suit it was him, but he was…darker than you remembered. 

“Because I have something you’ll never have again,”

 a pause. 

“Her heart.” 

And with that, as quick as lightning, you saw Marc snap his neck and Alec lay lifeless on the ground. 

And those dull, unseeing, amber eyes seemed to stare at you, almost tauntingly. As if to say “you thought you could forget this?”

But how could you forget this, you remember this, you knew this was real, but it didn’t make sense. Memories of Marc, all the happy ones. Baking together, loving together, eating popcorn while watching trash tv together. 

Was any of it real?

You bellowed in pain, not just from the labor but it felt like your entire being was being split open, body and soul. 

In rapid flashes you could see what your life with Marc was truly like. 

You were angry with him, but deep down, you were also terrified. You fought everyday to keep your mind and spirit. 

You saw yourself entangled with him, the amount of conflict in you was palpable. You knew you didn’t want it, but you did at the same time. The amount of grief and shame that filled you as you saw yourself holding back the tears as you cleaned yourself up was overwhelming. 

Then events passed in a blur, Layla helping you escape with Jake's assistance, you and Layla talking, a week passing by and then Jake rushing you out. Saying it was for your safety. Then, in the rearview mirror, you saw it, the switch. Then Layla dying in the backseat, the way she lifelessly slumped haunted you. 

“You’re no better than your mother” Your voice echoed in your ears. 

“NONE OF THAT WAS REAL!” Marc’s voice bellowed. 

The cold click of a gun’s safety turning off. 

“NO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“Did you mean it when you said I was your world” your body felt like it was falling apart, atom by atom, “your moon and stars.” 

Just as you thought you were going to die, you heard it. 

A baby crying. 

Your baby. 

“Good,” You faintly hear as the world around you begins to fade into black as the pain ebbed away slowly, “You took everything from me, it’s about time I return the favor.” 

—

Marc couldn’t decide if he was in heaven. 

Or in hell. 

He cradled his newborn daughter in his arms, he was so worried. For months he had been secretly dreading this moment, the moment he became a father. But now as he’s holding her, all he could feel was a love he never knew he was capable of. Each and every part of him loved her. Jake and Steven were in awe and for once, quiet. He beamed as he noticed that she scrunched her nose much like you did, something that he knew she inherited from you. 

The fear was still there, and he suspected it always will be until the day he dies. 

But none of that mattered right now. 

Because his daughter was here. 

If he was being honest, he didn’t know how he would’ve handled a son. He suspects he wouldn’t react nearly this affectionately. 

But right now as he held onto your daughter he was worried. He was worried for you, you’ve been staring out that window a lot, the blank look in your eyes only disappeared when your daughter was in your arms. 

He handed his daughter off to the nurse for another check up, one that he had requested to make sure that everything was ok. He kissed her gently on the forehead before walking over to where you sat. Marc sat gently on the bed next to you, and tried to notice the slight flinch that your body gave. 

“What’s going on, Starlight?” Marc asked as he reached for your hand. You didn’t move your hand away but you also didn’t return the affection. 

You mumbled something so quietly he didn’t understand what you had said. 

“What?”

“Did you mean it?” You asked, not looking at him.

“What do you mean?” Marc asked. 

“Did you mean it when you said I was your world,” You said bitterly, “your moon and stars.” 

His blood ran cold as he saw your eyes and as the words tumbled out of your mouth. Those were one of the last words you spoke before…before the incident. 

“I remember,” you said, still not looking directly at him, “I remember it all.” 

Those were the words he never wanted to hear, he could handle anything else, but not that you remember. 

“I’ve been having these flashes since I found out I was pregnant,” You explained, “they were tame at first. Just me sitting sadly by a window, and then a girl I didn’t recognize, then this pair of amber eyes.” You took in a shaky breath, “the girl's name was Layla…she was my best friend and your first wife, and those amber eyes belonged to Alec or I guess his real name was Mack.” Marc fell to his knees, tears streamed down your face as he grasped both of your hands. He was on his knees for you, and you could barely look at him. “You killed them all.” 

“For us,” Marc said, grasping your hands tighter, “I did it all for us.” 

“How am I still alive?” You asked. 

“I made another deal,” Marc said as he realized it was no use hiding it all from you now, “with Khonshu. My life for yours.” You nodded blankly at the wall before letting out a shaky breath. 

“I couldn’t escape you in life,” You said, “and I couldn’t escape from you in death.” A long moment of silence ensued as you gave his hands a firm squeeze. 

“I’ve been thinking,” You said, “I’ve spent the last 24 hours thinking. I love our daughter, I love her more than I ever thought possible. She deserves the life we never got, one with loving parents and a nice home.” A spark of hope lit up inside him. “There may never be a day where I will come to forgive you. I will always remember what you did and that will haunt me forever, and the guilt that people died because of me and I repay them by playing house with their murderer will weigh on my shoulders until the day I die.” Your thumb strokes his knuckles, “but I love my daughter more than anything, she is my world, moon and stars. And I want her to live as happily as possible, and if that means I have to learn to love you despite what you’ve done then that means that’s something I have to do.” Marc started crying in your lap, from relief or sadness he couldn’t tell. 

“Smile Marc,” you said as you lifted his head and he saw your sweet smile and bitter eyes, “You’ve won.” 

—

You had decided to name her Eva June Spector. Named after the new life she breathed into you, and for the month she was born in. 

Sure enough appearance wise she took after her father, tanned skin, dark and curly hair, even the nose was a smaller version of his. But her eyes, her eyes were the same as yours. 

Eva loved her father, and Marc was an amazing father, sure he blundered here and there. But he was nothing like his parents, and neither were you. 

There were moments of affection between you two, it was almost impossible when you're constantly reminded that you made something wonderful with this man, but some days were too much for you and you couldn’t stand to look at him or to have him touch you. But you shoved it down in front of your daughter. 

Because you would walk through hell with a smile on your face for her. 

When you came back from the hospital you knew you weren’t the only one trapped within this gated community. 

You knew Wanda was possessive, and with that she was extremely possessive of her wife. The same with the ex Captain of America, the Winter Soldier, the Black Widow. This entire gated community was full of trapped people. 

And as it rained outside and with baby Eva on your lap, you sat across from Marc, a sly smile on his face as he moved his piece on the chess board. 

“Checkmate”

TAGLIST:

@simonsbluee

@yuki235171

@dopeqff

@themapoftinyperfectthings

@later-gators12

@lovepeaceorelse

@ahookedheroespureheart

@8hgel

@onestopficshop

[thisisarcanereverie]

Change of Plans (DARK! Moon Knight x Reader) Knight and Pawn series

A/N: HEY! So this was like, over 5k words. So I did end up changing it a little, not by a lot, the overall ending is the same it's just a small detail. I might release the original chapter if I get enough requests for it but as of right now I don't feel comfortable with telling that version quite yet.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, VIOLENCE, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, BETRAYAL, BAD VIBES MY DUDES BAD VIBES!

Arcane Reverie on Tumblr

COMPLETE MASTERLIST / FANDOM LIST / LINKS TO MY OTHER ACCOUNTS!

“Layla?” 

“Shut up and hop on.” 

You immediately do as you’re told, putting the helmet on in the process. Once you're situated on the bike you hear Layla mumble something before revving up the bike and zipping out of the parking lot at lightning speed. Your arms frantically wrap themselves around her, as you prayed to whatever god that Layla’s suicidal driving doesn’t kill you, or maybe you hope it does as you’re reminded of your…previous activities. 

You push down the nauseating guilt for later as you hope she doesn’t smell him on you. 

Lights pass by in a blur, the roar of the engine and the honking of cars make any attempt of conversation futile as it would be drowned out by noise. 

In between praying for life or death, and suppressing the urge to throw up, you focus on the woman driving the motorcycle. You haven’t seen her in three or four years. You don’t know for sure how long since Marc abducted you, but it felt like years. 

“It shouldn’t be far now!” Layla shouted. 

“What shouldn’t be far?!”

“I’ll explain it when we get there!” 

Sure enough, after a few more sharp turns and taking some…interesting routes, Layla cuts the engine and motions you to let go and to get off. You’re in the middle of an ally on the edge of London. 

“We have to go on foot the rest of the way,” Layla says as she takes off her helmet, “it’s not far, just a block away.” you noticed immediately that she cut her hair, her dark ringlets fell an inch above her shoulders and she held herself differently, her stance was guarded and the look in her eyes were harder than you remember. Courtesy of Marc you assumed. You start to walk beside her, and the chill settles in. The damp London air cuts its way to your bones, you rub your hands over your arms, hoping the friction will help warm you. 

“So where exactly are we going?” You ask tentatively. 

“We’re going to a safe house Jake helped me set up, we’re going to be there for a few weeks before boarding the next train out of London and to the furthest countryside possible, from there we go to the nearest airport and get on the plane furthest away from London. From there we will be traveling from town to town, city to city, state to state, until either Marc gives up, or Khonshu abandons him for another avatar, which I don’t see happening anytime soon.” 

“So what,” You say, “I’m just supposed to run and hide?”

“Yes,” Layla says, turning to face you, her dark eyes intense, “yes that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.” You both walk a few more feet before Layla turns. You notice she turns to open a door to a building, years of graffiti decorated the stone as well as the overgrowth of dead ivy and various other plants. Honestly, if Layla would’ve kept walking, you wouldn’t have noticed it was ever here. Which you supposed was perfect considering you were trying to hide. 

Layla turned the knob and motioned you to get inside before her, the first thing you noticed was some of the floorboards creaked, but that was normal considering how old the building must have been. The wall was covered in old wallpaper, it was fraying at the ends and yellowed by time. There was a pull out couch with a tv, a kitchenette, one bathroom and one bedroom. It was very different from your previous accommodations. 

And for that you were grateful. 

You jumped at the sudden sound of deadbolts locking, the noise catches you off guard. You turn to the brunette as she is finishing locking the last deadbolt. 

“I already stocked the kitchen up, so our rations should be good. We don’t have cable so I hope you don’t mind our very limited selection of dvd’s, the bathroom is right over there, and I would change my clothes if I were you, because the next few weeks are going to be very difficult if you get sick with pneumonia or something.  I got a few clothes for you in the bedroom,” Layla points to the bedroom door, “I’ve got the pull out couch, in case our plan fails and Marc finds you. I can distract him while you make an escape.” You were about to speak up when Layla cut you off, “I promise we’ll talk…after you get out of those wet clothes and into something warmer.”

You quickly went to the bedroom, it was small, a single twin sized bed and a dresser were in there. You went through the drawer and picked out a sweatshirt and sweatpants. You stripped yourself of your wet clothing when a dull pain could be felt in between your legs. You shake as you’re reminded of what your freedom cost you. 

The swirling pit in your stomach made you feel nauseated beyond believe, you couldn’t believe you did that. That you slept with Marc fucking Spector, and enjoyed it. 

You would’ve felt better if it had just been sex, if he was a two pump chump and fell asleep right after. 

But no. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, you came multiple times, you begged for more, you kissed his forehead and listened to his heartbeat.  

If Marc wasn’t going to kill you, the guilt was. 

Your mind wandered to the curly haired woman in the living room you once thought of as your best friend. Layla had already risked so much just by being here, and you slept with her ex husband. 

You were despicable. 

You suddenly felt the need to claw at your own skin, to rub it until it was red and raw, you wanted to throw up all your memories and drown. 

You felt like you were drowning. 

You tried to even your breathing, just now noticing you were hyperventilating and you sunk yourself onto the floor. You closed your eyes and willed yourself to even your breathing. 

In……and out

In…….and out 

In……..and out. 

Once your chest stopped heaving and you felt your heart beat slow, with shaking arms and legs you picked yourself up and dressed yourself. The soft material of the sweatshirt brought comfort to you. 

You walked out of the bedroom door to find Layla sitting on the couch, waiting. You took another breath to quiet your already shot nerves, and went to sit next to her. 

Silence passed by you two, for what seemed to be forever, until Layla spoke up. 

“Just so you know,” Layla started, “I don’t care about what you had to do to get away from him tonight.”

Your head whipped right to her, your mouth open, ready to plead and beg for forgiveness and ask how she could’ve known when she stopped you. 

“I don’t know what happened tonight,” Layla said holding your hand, “I could probably guess if I wanted to but I don’t.” Her hand squeezed yours, “I don’t want to know, maybe one day we’ll be able to talk about it but right now I just can’t if that’s ok with you?”

“Of course,” You say immediately, returning the squeeze to her hand, another moment of silence before Layla breaks it. 

“I was angry at you,” Layla starts, “You were my best friend and suddenly you were gone. No note. When I came back that day, all of your clothes were gone and Marc was huddled on the ground holding onto your broken picture frame for dear life.” She lets out a cynical laugh, “When I found out what he did I was pissed. I yelled at him, blamed him. But nothing I did phased him. He didn’t sleep for months, he just kept looking, he even hired a PI to track you. I guess it was the fifth time I caught him up all night, glued to his phone looking for you, when I knew he loved you. He loved you in a way he could never love me, and that pissed me off. He was my husband and yet I couldn’t help but feel like the other woman…I wanted to blame you,” She looked up as tears pricked the corners of her eyes, “I kept telling myself that if it wasn’t for you Marc would love me more, that you left me without telling me anything because you were guilty, I did a lot of things. But when I left Marc and lived for myself a while, I came to accept it wasn’t your fault.” Layla looked at you, “you were the one who took most of the brunt on our missions, you took literal bullet shots for me, you protected me until you couldn’t. You loved me, and I loved you. You leaving was because you needed to put yourself first, and I respect that. I realized you probably didn’t have time to write me a note telling me goodbye or maybe because you weren’t sure what to say without lying.” Layla laughed as a single tear rolled down her cheek, “Let me tell you it wasn’t easy to accept or understand any of that. But I still tried to be mad at you, if not because of my own pride, then I heard about Marc abducting you and instantly that anger vanished, you were in danger and for once I needed to help you. To save you.”

“Do you know how long it’s been since Marc abducted you?” You shake your head, you could have an estimated guess, but you don’t know for certain. 

“He abducted you a year and a half ago,” Layla said, “your friends at SWORD looked for you, but Marc hid you well and Steven paid off higher SWORD people to…overlook your disappearance.” 

You weren’t shocked, you knew Steven had a lot of money now, and money talked, and bargained, and made things happen and disappear. 

“Jake only told me things I needed to know,” Layla said, “like Marc abducting you and where to pick you up and take you.” her eyes were softer now as she looked at you, “but I don’t know anything of what happened before. Where you’ve been for the last three years or what you were up to, and I don’t mean to be nosey but the only thing I know was that you worked for SWORD and that’s it…I was kind of hoping you would fill me in, tell me what your life was like before all this shit.” 

You took a sharp breath in, you wanted to tell her, you just didn’t know where to start. 

So maybe you would just start at the beginning. 

“After I left Marc’s I sort of just moved around a lot, staying in motels or hotels or air bnb a place if I felt like splurging or hell even camped. I didn’t stay in one place for too long and I was taking some odd jobs here and there, using mostly cash only, trying to limit my paper trail in case he looked for me.” you willed the tears to stop, “then about six months later I was in Portland, and that’s where I met Alec. I spilled some coffee on him, and when I tried to clean him up I looked in his eyes and I just couldn’t help thinking he had the most gorgeous eyes I had ever seen.” You let out a sad laugh, “I must have said it out loud because he laughed and said that there were other ways to hit on him than spilling coffee on him and flirting. After that he asked me on a date and I went, I kept pushing back the date I was leaving before finally deciding to stay…for him. I accepted a job with SWORD, got an apartment, and was living normally. Alec worked a lot, he had to take a lot of phone calls but we both managed to work from home most days.” Your eyes tear up as you remember the beach, “Then Alec got promoted and we had to move to New Jersey, he proposed, I said yes and for a very long while we were happy. We moved near enough where I could go into the office and since he was a project manager he had to go in more as well. His work calls went down significantly which was amazing, and we were just…happy and normal.” A tear slipped past as you remembered the last day of your ideal life, “then, a few days before we were going to get married, Marc came out of nowhere. Told me he was going to kill Alec if I didn’t go with him, he gave me 24 hours to say goodbye to my life before he took it away. But of course…I had to fight back.” You knew you were trembling, “I couldn’t let him have that control over me, so I tried to hide Alec away, somewhere Marc couldn’t reach him…Alec sacrificed his life for me, Marc cornered us at the bus station and snapped Alec’s neck right in front of me…I could only cry and weep and act like a blubbering mess, meanwhile Alec was dead and I just..passed out. When I woke up I was in London.” 

For a while Layla just held you, rubbed comforting circles on your back as you weep and blamed yourself. You were filled with so much sadness and pain that it felt like your heart was going to burst, your throat was closed up and sore from all the crying. You trembled from nerves and lack of hydration. Your guilt was eating you alive, from Alec’s death to sleeping with his killer. You were consumed with guilt. 

You were drowning. 

And you wanted to drown. 

—

It’s been a week since you escaped Marc. 

Layla and you caught up with one another, you tried apologizing for all the pain you put her through but she wouldn’t accept it. Slowly, little by little, you were both taking the damage done to your friendship one day at a time. 

You both didn’t do much besides lay low, watch tv, ate, and talk. Damn did you guys talk. 

With the tv playing some old movie and both of you chilling on a couch as you talked through the movie, you couldn’t help but feel nostalgic. When Marc wouldn’t come home until late and you stayed up with Layla to help ease her mind. And you felt like maybe you were getting back there. 

But the guilt stayed with you, always there in the pit of your stomach, waiting to consume you again. You still blamed yourself, for everything, you blamed every bit of misfortune on you. If you had done something differently, things would’ve worked out better. 

You were in the middle of making supper when you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. At first you felt like you were crazy, but as the harsh pounding of the dead bolted door came you grabbed the hot pot from your hand, discarding the contents onto the floor and held it up. In case you needed to use it as a weapon, Layla motioned for you to be quiet and to stay low. You shakily followed her instructions. You heard her peak through the door only to let out a sigh of relief, you peaked your head over the counter to find her motioning you to stand up. 

“It’s Jake,” She said as she opened the door. You knew you shouldn’t have flinched when you saw him, he helped you escape, he tried to right the wrong done to you, and yet. When you saw him, flashes of Marc came through and invaded your head. You breathed through it and tried to calm yourself down. 

“Change of plan,” Jake said, his accent thick, “You leave tonight, grab your things and meet me outside.” and with that he was gone from the doorway, you saw Layla immediately spring into action and urged you to do the same. You put down the hot pan and went to pack what few things you had, the clothes and blankets being one of them. You met her outside, where she held your hand and gave you a nod of reassurance before slipping a gun into your coat pocket. “For insurance” she said. You both made your way where Jakes limo awaited you, you didn’t think twice before hopping in the backseat. 

“What happened, why did the plans change?” Layla asked as Jake floored it away from the safe house. 

“Marc knows,” Jake said thickly, his eyes darting to his rearview mirror, “he knows I helped you and is pissed off, I need to get you both to safety before he takes control again.” 

“So where are we going now?”

“You’re still getting on a train,” Jake replied as he ran through a red light a series of swears and honking didn’t deter him, “just not the one we wanted. Now if you don’t mind, I need you guys to be quiet as I focus on driving and not losing control.” 

Both you and Layla were silent as London passed you by, it was a blur at the speed Jake was going, and despite having lived in the city, you didn’t know your way around it much. Directions were never your strong suit, but at some point things started to become familiar as you felt Layla tense beside you. Immediately you knew something was wrong, the sinking feeling of dread and seconds felt like minutes as you turned to see her confused gaze. You were about to speak to Jake when you noticed him turn at a familiar sign. 

Roxxon Luxury Apartments

“Jake why are we here?” You asked. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute. 

“Just one second, Starlight.”

Your heart stopped, the sinking feeling in your gut dropped to your feet and your hands shook as your eyes slowly went to meet him in the mirror. 

Those weren’t Jake’s eyes you met in that rearview. 

It was Marc. 

His eyes were dark, intense as he stared at you, his thick brows furrowed. All you could see in his eyes was dark, obsessive, possessive, anger, every dark emotion he had under the sun. 

Marc was pissed. 

You turned to tell Layla to get out of the car and run. 

But it was too late. 

Marc had turned around at lightning speed and stuck something in her neck. 

“I really didn’t want to do that,” Marc said, “but you didn’t leave me a choice.” 

You screamed as Layla went limp beside you, Marc released her as he went to exit out of the car, he at some point parked but you didn’t notice. You went to feel for a pulse, you were practically heaving as you felt a very small, very slow pulse. 

“Layla,” You said, trying to wake her, “Layla come on, open your eyes!” 

“She’s not going to,” He said as he opened up your door, you kicked and screamed as he pulled you away from her. “I was going to leave her out of this, but you didn’t leave me a choice.” 

“What did you do to her!” You yelled, pounding your fists on his back.

“I gave her something to make her fall asleep,” He said, “she’s going to sleep, and then she will peacefully, slip and be with her father again.” He practically dragged you away, carrying your fighting body without struggle, “this was the best I could do after this little incident. She wasn’t going to fuck off after this, so this was the only other option.” He set you down once you were in the elevator, “you belong to me.”

You spat in his face, you saw his eyes flare with an anger you’ve never seen before as the elevator dinged and he dragged you back to that apartment. The one with all those windows, looking out to a world you’ll never be a part of again. 

The windows that killed you. 

The door locked instantly as you noticed the disarray around you. 

Shattered glass, holes punched into walls, you saw Marc went mad in here.

Or maybe he always was. 

You heard the door lock behind you as you were harshly turned around, his hands had a death grip on your arms, they were bruising and you could barely move. His eyes were trained on you, dark, and angry, but you also saw so much sadness in them and hurt. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. 

“Why?” His voice was low and dangerous, “why did you do that, did I not provide everything for you?”

“You took me,” You said, “you had no right.”

“I had every right.” Marc said. 

“You sound like your mother.”

It was the lowest of blows you could throw at him, you knew. But all the grief, and guilt, and blame, and anger, everything boiled over. You swore to yourself you would never, ever, say those words to him. 

Another vow you’ve broken. 

His hands let go of you as he recoils from you like you had burned him, and if you were honest, burning him would’ve hurt less. 

You felt the cold press of metal against your skin and your hands flew on their own. Your hands held the gun and aimed it at him. If you were honest, you didn’t want to kill him. Probably wouldn’t, but you could try, probably physically harm him enough for you to get away again. 

But what was the point?

You could see Marc was silently impressed with how fast you had armed yourself. 

“You won’t kill me.”

“Probably,” You said the gun still aimed at him as you turned the safety off, “but I can try.”  

“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!” He screamed, “I have loved you since we were eight, I only knew after that night in the cabin. You are my world, my moon and stars, you have no idea what I’ve sacrificed in your name.” 

“No,” You said, “but I know the names of the people you’ve killed in my name.”

“We’ve spent years dancing around each other,” He said as you put distance between you two, “always loving each other but something or someone always came in and fucked it up. Don’t tell me that you didn’t feel like you were finally complete that night in the cabin, or when we made love, here, in our home.” His eyes were pleading, “why am I the villain for taking the first step?” he stepped forward while you took a step back. 

“I always loved you,” You said never looking away from him, “but you treated me like shit and when I had finally built a life for myself you took it away. And for that I will never forgive you.”

“THAT LIFE WASN’T REAL!” Marc screamed, “NONE OF THAT WAS REAL!” 

Time seemed to stop. Like every heartbeat stopped as you see Marc’s eyes widen in shock as he realized what he said. 

“What?” You felt numb, your hands shook slightly, “what do you mean none of that was real? It felt real to me.”

Marc was silent, which you learned quickly was never a good sign. 

“What did Alec do for a living?” Marc asked, “did he ever tell you?”

You were about to say yes, but you stopped. You thought about it and Alec never gave you a straight answer. Always saying stuff about some mysterious project, work calls, promotion to project manager but he never said anything about what project or which company he worked with. You were so in love with him that you didn’t even think to ask. 

“He was a project manager.”

“In some way he was,” Marc said, “you were the project.” 

Your body began to shake as he continued. 

“Alec wasn’t even his real name,” he continued, “I mean Alexander Maximillian Hamilton? Alexander Hamilton? That’s the dude on the ten dollar bill, did you not find that weird?” Silence, “his real name was Mack Gildmen, he was a Private Investigator that I hired to keep tabs on you.” You pointed the gun at him firmly. 

“You’re lying!” You shouted even though the pit in your stomach told you otherwise. 

“I’m not,” He said, “he was just supposed to get close to you, be a part of your life when I couldn’t be. I had too much work to do, and you were right. I deserted you and I tried to work hard in being worthy of you again. We had this agreement, he would be a part of your life, give me updates disguised as business calls, refer to you as the project so as to not raise suspicion, and when I felt ready to reconnect with you again he would step out of the way, naturally. I paid him his top dollar for every update.” Tears welled in your eyes. “But then he went and fell in love with you, which shouldn’t have surprised me because who wouldn’t. But it did, it surprised and angered me. He quit, and told me he would always protect you from me, even if it meant himself getting in the crossfire.” The sudden realization dawned on you, “I told him the next time I saw him he was a dead man.” 

“So when you told me if I didn’t go with you, you were going to kill Alec…”

“I was going to kill him either way,” Marc confirmed, “he knew that. Why else did he put you on the bus, why else would he jam it and not get on the bus with you?”

You didn’t want to hear it. 

“Because he knew he was going to die that night either way,” Marc continued, “he knew I would find him, but I was too angry. I saw red when I saw him, I didn’t take into account that you saw me kill him. I never wanted you to see that. But I guess that was his plan, get me riled up, have you in the audience and let myself completely destroy whatever good thought you ever had about me.” 

Your back was to the window, looking out to the city beyond, its lights flickering on the water. 

You wanted to deny it, to tell yourself that he was a liar and he was lying. 

But you knew he wasn’t, that look in his eyes, everything finally making sense. 

You knew this was the truth. 

“So this life I built,” you started, “my home, my fiance, my perfect, normal life…I didn’t build it at all, you did.” You knew you only got the job you did because you had previous experiences with super heroes. 

With him. 

Your home was paid for by Alec- you mean Mack, from the money he received from spying on you for Marc. 

Your whole life was a lie

You lowered the gun slightly, grief, anger, despair, as you recalled every happy memory. The smiles, kisses, happy birthdays, holidays you spent with him, with your friends and co-workers. Flowers you received, small gifts that Alec or Mack you guessed bought you, really weren’t from him. 

They were from Marc. 

Every small gesture, like bringing you iced coffee because hot coffee made you sick, or putting on your favorite show when you were down. 

All of that. 

Was him. 

The sick swirling feeling in your gut wouldn’t cease, as you threw up all of the contents of your stomach towards the nearest trash can. 

Marc didn’t approach you, worried that you would flinch from his touch and right now. 

That would kill him. 

While your head was buried in that trash can, reliving every happy day in those three years, you knew what you had to do. 

To end the madness. 

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Your head shot straight up from the trash can and whirled around to look at Marc. 

“Let’s get you washed up.” 

“No.” You aimed the barrel of the gun away from Marc. 

And aimed it at your temple instead. 

“NO!” Marc screamed as panic filled his very being, “NO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” 

“Did you mean it when you said I was your world,” you asked with your eyes and tone cold and numb, “your moon and stars.” 

“Yes,” Marc said, slowly inching closer, “you are everything to me.” 

“Good,” You said, “You took everything from me, it’s about time I return the favor.” 

With a bang everything went black. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re sure of this exchange?” Khonshu asked, Marc was trembling as he held you. Your beautiful eyes were once so vibrant, stared at nothing, your skin was still warm (thank god) and Marc couldn’t stop sobbing. He could hear Steven and Jake in the background, they weren’t in any better condition. 

“A lifetime of servitude for her life,” Marc said, kissing your limp hand, “I’m sure.” 

He just wanted you back and he knew Khonshu wouldn’t let him join you until the debt was paid. 

“You do realize that this lifetime will be far longer than you expected,” Khonshu warned, “My healing armor will keep you young and strong for centuries. My justice will require much bloodshed.” 

“Just bring her back to me,” he pleaded. Khonshu sighed as he felt for your pulse, it was weak, but your soul had not crossed over yet. So, he still had some jurisdiction here. 

“Let’s begin” 

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