#tkc fanfic

[nexus-scart]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/80917046

Here's the finished TKC angst fic. Hope you enjoy=)!!

[happyk44]

Sadie developing bipolar disorder after they defeat Apophis and the relief from stress, the sudden lack of adrenaline that had been keeping her up and moving the final week before the big fight leaves her feeling antsy and unnerved, leading her into a hypomanic state. It takes a couple years before they realize something's wrong - at first her fluctuating moods are written off as typical teen moodiness. With each episode, the intensity ramps up. Awareness that this isn't just standard moodiness slowly sinks in.

They're not sure how to approach her. Long stretches of symptom-free periods confuse their concerns. She brushes off her depressive episodes, rolls her eyes when they try to discuss her manic ones. She doesn't want to talk about it. Trying only leads to irritability and ghosting. She's fine. Everyone gets sad sometimes. Everyone gets energetic sometimes.

It's normal. It's fine.

Don't worry about it.

Then, during a depressive episode, she starts experiencing delusions of reference, unbelievably convinced that everyone is talking cruelly about her and attempting to reassure her otherwise doesn't help. If anything, it makes her worse. She becomes belligerent. Leaving her to her own devices only reinforces her belief, but there's not much they can do to assuage her, so they let her believe and stay cooped up in bed, only allowing Carter to visit.

She speaks of hopelessness and misery with little reasoning as to why. He listens patiently, and tries not to deny her feelings, though he desperately wishes to. He wants to reassure her that there is good and there is hope and there is reason to live. He wants to reassure that everyone loves her, that he loves her, that she is wanted and cared for.

But he can't risk being shunned by her too, so he listens idly, never agreeing or disagreeing, unsure what words may set her off. He urges her to eat and she does, though far less, and he lays with her for hours while she sleeps for days and days, barely moving.

And when the episode fades, the psychosis along with it, he holds her close and begs her to see a doctor with him.

"I'm fine," she mumbles into his chest. It's so strange. The lingering effects of the last couple weeks still ruminate in her, although far quieter than they had been. Eventually they will fade completely and she'll be happy and bright again.

But a nagging voice in her head reminds of her the irrational thoughts that bullied her. Why would they be talking cruelly about her? That didn't make sense. Everyone likes her - the little kids flock to her whenever she walks into the room. They all yell, "Hi, Sadie" and show her pictures they drew. Walt is her boyfriend. He kisses her cheek and cuddles her on the couch during movies. Jaz is her friend. Zia is her friend.

They're her friend. They're her family.

Why would they be mean?

Carter squeezes her tighter. "I love you," he murmurs and she exhales into his chest a mimicked response. "But you're worrying me. Sometimes you're too... excited. You run around like a sugared-up toddler. You don't sleep, you forget things, you walk away while the stove is on because you heard a bird. And then, suddenly, you're miserable and you won't eat or leave your room and this time you believed, like, truly, deeply believed everyone hates you and-" His voice cracks, wet and thick. "-I was so fucking scared."

He closes his eyes, blinking away the well of tears, and holds her even tighter. His arms are a wall. A defense. A guard.

Inside his body trembles and shakes. Outside he remains stiff. He can't shake with his fears. What if she slips away. Part of him doesn't want to let her go. Can't let her go.

He doesn't know what'll happen if he does.

"I can't lose you, Sadie," he says.

Her heart folds over into her stomach and she grips his shirt. The fabric bunches up into her fist. "I'm not... I'm not going anywhere," she says. But she thinks of being bright and happy and feeling like she can do anything. And thinks of being empty and hopeless, only hanging on by a thin thread slowly unravelling every time Carter stepped away.

She closes her eyes and presses her forehead to his sternum. Holds him closer and tighter and remembers a time when nightmares plagued her and she crawled into his bed and slept warmly with his blanket cocooning her and his arms and legs hooked over her, a constant murmur of, "It's okay, it's okay, I'm here, I'm here."

"Will you come with me?" she asks.

"Of course," he says with a kiss to the top of her head. "I'll always go with you."

She exhales and it hurts a little. It hurts because she doesn't understand why it's happening. It hurts because she's worried him. It hurts because she doesn't want to be crazy.

It hurts because what if nothing works. What if there's no fixing her. What if she's just broken. A burden to everyone she cares about.

"Sadie, it'll be okay," he assures.

She laughs softly, thinking of warmth and safety and fingers tangled in her hair. "You're here?"

He snorts and squeezes her. "I'm here."

[ghostofmyth]

Oh gee, I hope I survive the AO3 curse! Wish me luck ☺️

[somnas-writes]

Fic outlining lol

[lifeofroos]

A/N: Carter x Reader where reader is ill, requested by anon :)

AO3 - KoFi

A spell for health

‘You need to lay down.’ Carter put his hand on your forehead. ‘You’re not well.’

‘I’m fine,’ you said with a faint smile. When you tried to take a step, you tumbled forwards. ‘Owh…’

‘Come, come…’ Carter slid his arm through yours for support. 

‘I can’t sit here,’ you said, followed by a coughing fit. ‘This is the middle of the library…’ You gasped as Carter picked you up, bridal-style. ‘Wait!’

‘Horus helps me,’ Carter puffed.

With some trouble (Although he insisted it was nothing) Carter brought you to your room.

You huddled under your blankets. ‘I am not that sick,’ you mumbled one last time, before coughing again.

‘You have been coughing the whole day and your forehead is boiling.’ Carter fussed around the room, picking up a few extra pillows to make sure you were comfortable.

‘I will grab you something to eat,’ he said, before walking out.

‘Don’t fall down the stairs!’

‘Won’t!’ you heard, before he involuntarily skipped a few steps.

-

While Carter was gone, Sadie poked her head around the corner. You waved weakly from your pillow fort.

‘Are you alright?’

‘I am a little sick,’ you admitted. ‘My throat hurts.’ In fact, all of you hurt.

Sadie nodded. She didn’t come any closer. ‘You look pale. Make sure you get enough rest.’

‘You sound like Carter.’

She pulled a face. ‘Gross.’

‘I heard that!’ Your boyfriend came stumbling up the stairs.

You could already see by Sadie’s expression that he had to have a lot of food with him. And indeed. Carter came in with a tray filled with toast and honey, bananas, yoghurt, a pot of tea and honeydew melon. 

Despite not being all that hungry, you took a bit of melon. ‘Thanks.’ Really, you were. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about getting up for food. 

Sadie gave Carter a dissapproving look. ‘You are getting close to them, in this state?’

Carter looked over his shoulder. ‘Of course. They need care.’

Sadie took a step back. ‘You’re not allowed to enter my space anymore,’ she said as she dashed away.

Carter huffed. ‘We can’t exactly leave you to your own devices.’

You took another bite of honeydew. ‘I mean, it’s just a little cold…’

Carter shook his head. ‘You need care. I can see it.’

Your only response was a yawn.

‘And sleep.’ He stood up to turn off the lights.

‘Carter?’

‘Hm?’

‘I’ll really be okay, you know.’ Your eyelids were heavy, so, so heavy. 

Carter sat down next to you. ‘Of course. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like to give you some special attention when you need it.’

You chuckled while you closed your eyes. Carter pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘Sleep. It’ll help.’

-

You dreamed of ghosts, evil serpents and glaring red eyes. With a scream, you woke up. The world around you was dark and your covers were drenched with sweat.

A soft light went on. Carter put down his novel. ‘Come, come, oh…’ He grabbed your hands. ‘Bad dreams?’

‘I don’t know if they were regular bad, or if they meant something,’ you whispered. You really didn’t. The whole room felt as if it was filled with monsters. 

‘Do you feel nauseous?’

‘...no.’ Not yet.

‘Come, then.’ Carter helped you out of bed and onto his chair. ‘We have to change these sheets and get you some clean clothes.’

Your head was spinning. It seemed to take Carter forever to change the sheets, much less to find you fitting pyjama’s. 

After he was done, he helped you back into bed. Under the blanket, it was too warm, but sleeping without the blanket was too cold. A seperate duvet cover solved the issue.

He placed his hand on your forehead. You didn’t understand what he said, but it must have been a spell. Your muscles relaxed. Without issue, your eyelids shut.

‘Have I told you the story of how I befriended a pigeon once, when travelling with my dad?’

You didn’t have to reply.

‘It was during a dig. A pigeon landed next to me. I was small and my dad was somewhere on the other side of the site, so I began talking to it.’ Carter lightly squeezed your hand. ‘During lunch, I gave him some of my bread, and he followed me the whole time I was there. I gave him a name: Mister Peter. Sometimes I still think about him.’

If there was any more, you didn’t hear it. Yet, your dreams were filled with kind pigeons that night. 

-

The next morning, you already felt much better. Carter looked up from the chair with a tired smile.

‘Did you sleep at all?’

‘Of course, of course...’

‘Don’t lie!’

‘Do you feel better, darling?’

You nodded. ‘Yes. I think the spell helped, even if it was only a relaxation spell.’

Carter nodded too, while staring off into space.

You laughed. ‘Goof. Now you’re the one who needs rest.’

‘I’m fine…’

You took his hand and pulled him next to you in bed. ‘I am not that contagious.’

He huddled closer to you. ‘I will have caught it anyway at this point.’

You laid your head against his chest. ‘Sh. Sleep.’

‘Hm.’

Within moments, he was asleep. Poor Carter, he really must have been tired. Oh well, now you might as well stay in a little longer, right? 

A/N: I am working on everyone’s requests - it just takes slightly longer, that’s all. College ‘n stuff :).

[jacksxnchase]

wrote the first chapter of a zarter fic 👀🤪

[savameh]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

enjoy my latest fanfic feat Manon

[camp-half-mess]

Anything For You

((I wrote a little fanfic about TKC Thoth and Manon (OC) that took place before our RP! ~Mod Sav))

Anything For You

TW: Alcohol, sexual harassment

Manon swore she’d never love anybody ever again. Not after what had happened to her family. They made her happy, they made her feel loved, then BAM! Gone. Dead, reduced to piles of ashes.

Manon swore she’d never let herself feel that heartbreak again. Those awful nights full of tears, where she’d cry herself to sleep and wish that their murders had been some sort of twisted prank, that they’d suddenly appear and be like, “Just kidding, we’re alive!”

Of course, that never happened. The dead tend to stay dead. But the hope Manon felt, the painful hope that a miracle would happen, destroyed her emotionally, so she swore she’d never love anyone like that again.

Until him.

Oh, that bastard.

Manon had had crushes before. The boy on the playground who Manon thought was cute when she was eight. The handsome magician who Manon followed around the First Nome when she was twelve, hoping he’d notice her and talk to her. A baseball player at her high school.

But never had she fallen in love as an adult. Never had she fallen in love with an ancient god.

Yes, Manon was in love with Thoth, the Egyptian god of knowledge. Seven billion people on the planet, and she had to fall in love with him of all people.

Manon knew she didn’t have a chance with him, as much as she tried to deny it. Thoth could probably get any woman or man he wanted. Why on earth would he choose Manon, his twenty-one-year-old assistant/bodyguard?

Thoth was very much capable of protecting himself. Manon really didn’t understand why he needed someone who basically served as his bodyguard. But the group she was a part of thought it necessary. Probably because she had more information about the cult than him, which was ironic considering Thoth was a god of knowledge. But whatever. Manon didn’t mind her job.

She didn’t mean to fall in love with him, of course. It just...happened. And if Manon could have predicted before she came to Memphis that she’d fall for him, she would have been shocked.

He seemed so cold at first. Like a slightly more emotional Vulcan with attention span issues. But then as Manon got to know him more, he let what Manon guessed was his real self show. And she fell in love with him.

In return, she started to trust him more. In fact, she trusted him more than she has trusted anyone in a long time. Manon told him embarrassing things about herself, like the time she managed to fall headfirst into a fountain because she was too busy reading, and the time she cried because she saw a really cute dog. Things she never imagined she’d tell anyone, especially not a millennia-old god.

Thankfully, Thoth didn’t make her feel any more embarrassed about those things. He’d simply give her a small smile, a smile that made Manon melt every time she saw it, and make a comment about how something similar happened to him. An ancient guy like him had hours of embarrassing moments to talk about.

And contrary to popular belief, Thoth had a sense of humor. His sense of humor was subtle but refined, his jokes coming in the form of off-hand, often passive-aggressive remarks and puns. The worst puns, which would always make Manon laugh, especially with his stoic delivery of them, the only hint of his mischief a smirk.

Of course, Thoth wasn’t without his flaws. Manon had seen his bad side in addition to his good side. In fact, she noticed that everyone had mostly seen his bad side, his stubbornness, emotionlessness, and his occasional arrogance, hence his not-so-good reputation among the gods and others who have met him. Despite his flaws, Manon still loved him for him. They were part of him, after all, and she knew she definitely wasn’t without flaws.

For the most part, though, Thoth was kind and caring. A real gentleman, in Manon’s opinion, although she might be biased. For the several months she had spent with him, he’d offered her nothing but kindness and hospitality and expected nothing in return but her companionship and occasional help. Sometimes, Thoth would ask Manon to be a test subject for odd spell combinations he wanted to try. Nothing that could potentially kill her, though, according to Thoth.

One time, Thoth asked her to be a test subject for a potential strength spell combination. Manon agreed, like she always did, and he tested the spell combination on her. Something must have gone wrong, though, because Manon lost consciousness and the next thing she remembered was waking up on the floor, Thoth kneeling above her and fretting over her, making sure she was okay. Manon wasn’t okay, she ended up somehow contracting some illness from the spell combination. She remembered Thoth carrying her to bed and tucking her in, then nursing her back to health for a few days.

He never asked for anything in return. Gods, he was so sweet. Manon loved him. She hoped one day to return his kindness. She didn’t know how she would, but somehow, she would do it.

In addition to his lovely personality, Thoth looked good. Sure, he didn’t look like a male supermodel, but damn, he was still hot. Manon could admire him and his multicolored eyes, messy hair, and slender but somewhat muscular body for hours. She also liked the way he dressed, especially when he wore his usual outfit of a lab coat, t-shirt, and jeans, all scribbled on in marker with various hieroglyphics for easy spell-casting. That outfit captured his personality well, Manon thought, plus it looked comfortable and hot on him.

Gods, she had it bad, didn’t she? Swooning over an ancient deity like some hormonal schoolgirl. Even just a thought of him made her blush and grin.

Manon sat at the bar, a dreamy smile on her face as she stirred her drink with her straw. Only a layer of ice and watered down whiskey remained in the glass.

She had come to this bar for no reason, really. She had just gotten out of a musical that she saw in downtown Memphis. Thoth said he had something else to do, so Manon went alone. And once she was done, well…she could use a small drink. Not much, just a little something to make her tipsy, to keep her attention off her thoughts and feelings.

Thoth had been hesitant to let her leave, though. “You look feverish,” he had said, laying his cool, smooth hand on her forehead, a look of concern upon his face. “Are you feeling alright?”

Manon said yes, and he let her go to the musical. Truth be told, Manon was only “feverish” because she was in his presence and was blushing wildly.

And now, she found herself here….

“More whiskey, miss?” The bartender asked her.

Manon nodded and slid her glass over. “Sure. Just a bit more, though. I don’t want to get wasted.” She chuckled a bit.

The bartender nodded back and went to go pour her drink.

A man who Manon hadn’t even noticed sat down on the stool next to her.

“French, eh?” He asked in a gruff, vaguely southern-US accent. He was a large, hulking man who obviously frequented the gym. His appearance reminded Manon of a modern Gaston from Beauty and the Beast.

Eyeing him suspiciously, Manon nodded. “Yes. From Montpellier.”

The man let out a whistle. “From what I’ve heard, the French are notorious for their lovin’. Is that true?”

Oh, so he’s one of those guys. Manon rolled her eyes. “I don’t know and I don’t fucking care,” she grumbled, turning away from him.

The man frowned. “I was just askin’ a question.”

“A weird one,” Manon muttered.

The man didn’t answer. Manon received her drink and took a sip. The man spoke again.

“I like that dress on you. Really shows off your beautiful ass.”

Manon almost choked on her drink. “Ex-Excuse me?”

“You have a beautiful ass,” the man murmured, leaning closer to her, his arm starting to wrap around her waist.

The shock wore off, and before the man could do anything, Manon picked up her drink and poured it all over the man’s face. Whiskey dripped down from his face in golden-brown drops as he glared at Manon.

“Bitch! I was giving you a compliment!”

“And touching me inappropriately!” Manon yelled back, not caring that the whole bar was staring at them now. She was pissed now. “And your comment was creepy! Who the hell compliments a stranger’s ass? Get away from me, creep!”

She moved to get up and find somewhere else to sit, but the man grabbed her elbow, yanking her back down. Letting out a yell, Manon snatched her arm from his grip. The man retaliated by shoving her, causing her to fall backwards off the stool.

Manon landed on her back, hissing at the impact. The skirt of her dress was all messed up, and Manon was thankful that she had the foresight to wear shorts beneath it.

She tried to get up, but the man kicked her down again. The bartender and a few bystanders tried to restrain this man, but his strength made this an impossible task.

He kicked again, causing a sharp pain to shoot through Manon’s ribs. Despite this, Manon tried to get up to beat this guy’s ass, but the man pushed her back down and tried to punch her, which Manon dodged with almost-expert reflexes.

The bartender and bystanders once again tried to restrain this man, but their efforts were futile. The man managed to break free of their clutches, and as he did so, he swung his arm and fist back, ready to punch Manon again.

Before Manon had time to react, an iridescent hieroglyphic flashed across the man’s face. Manon had time to just read it before it sank into the man’s forehead. Calm.

The man pacified instantly. “Sorry,” he mumbled in a dreamy voice, the voice of a mortal under the influence of magic. “I didn’t realize you were taken. My bad.”

He walked away before anyone, whether Manon or the bartender or the bystanders, had time to say anything.

“Are you alright?” Thoth asked, appearing in front of Manon and offering her a hand. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern. “Are you hurt?”

Dozens of thoughts cluttered Manon’s mind, and she turned pink and desperately tried to find some way to verbalize all of them, but only one of them managed to be said, the most important one.

“Why...why are you here?”

“According to my calculations based on all known information about the musical and its venue and location, I estimated that your time of arrival back to my place would be around 10:45 PM, give or take ten to fifteen minutes,” Thoth began. “But that time period passed, so I decided to find your location, in case something happened to you. You seemed feverish earlier, and I was hoping that you didn’t fall ill while on your way from the musical.”

He frowned, putting his hand once again against Manon’s forehead. “You still look and feel feverish...though I suppose it could be the result of the alcohol you’ve consumed and the fight against that...moron.”

Manon blushed even more and gently pushed his hand away. “I’m fine, I’m fine, it was just the fight and the whiskey.”

Well, she wasn’t fine, she was fairly certain she broke a rib, but Thoth didn’t need to know that at the moment.

Thoth nodded, his eyes narrowing. “Very well.” He then tilted his head. “I saw that man kick near your rib cage. No pain around there?”

Ah shit.

“They hurt a bit,” Manon said, biting her lip and looking away. “Not much, though. I’ll be fine.”

That was a lie, they actually hurt more than a bit, but Manon didn’t want Thoth to worry about her, even if she would like it if he did. She was just his mortal assistant. Nothing more.

“Very well,” Thoth said again. “I can take a look at them once we get back to my building.”

“I sure hope you can,” Manon joked, looking back at Thoth, a grin dancing on her lips. As her gaze returned to him, she noticed his outfit. He wore a maroon button-down shirt, which was tucked into a pair of purple pinstripe pants with suspenders. A black bow tie hung from his collar. Manon turned even redder.

“You like nice,” she complimented, her mischievous grin turning into a shy smile. Thoth smiled back.

“Why thank you. I didn’t want to stand out too much here.” His eyes moved up and down Manon’s body, analyzing her outfit of a black dress with lace sleeves. “You look nice as well.”

Manon grinned. “Thanks.”

The two kind of just looked at one another for a few moments, then Thoth looked away, clearing his throat. “Well, shall we head back?”

Manon nodded. Thoth offered her his hand again, and Manon took it this time, standing up. She wondered if Thoth used lotion or if his hands were naturally that soft.

He let go of her hand and started leading her towards the front door of the bar. Manon followed, her walking wobbly due to the bit of alcohol she’d had and the pain in her ribs.

As soon as they were outside the bar, Thoth looked back at her and noticed her difficulties walking. Manon thanked the gods that she decided not to wear high heels that night.

“Do you need help walking?” Thoth asked, his voice gentle.

Manon nodded. “I’d appreciate that. I’d like to not die before we get back.”

Thoth smiled at her joke and walked towards her, offering her his arm. Manon took it, appreciating his kindness as well as the firmness of his muscles, though she’d never admit that to anyone.

They walked together, Manon using Thoth’s arm to steady herself as they walked in the direction of the university where Thoth’s building was located. It wasn’t too far of a walk, thankfully, maybe just ten or fifteen minutes, but Manon was thankful for Thoth’s presence. She knew that walking alone in the city at that time of night could be dangerous for a young woman like Manon, especially if she was intoxicated. Of course, she could always use her magic and fighting skills to take down any mortal threat, but that would be rather difficult for even a mildly intoxicated person.

People smiled at the two as they walked, obviously assuming that Manon and Thoth were a couple. Why people were out on the streets that late, Manon had no idea. Thoth seemed to pay no attention to them, focusing straight ahead. Manon just blushed and focused on walking like a normal, functioning human being, ignoring the pain in her ribs.

They were almost to the university when Manon decided to break the silence that stretched between them.

“Thank you.”

“What for?” Thoth asked. Manon giggles slightly. Gods, he was so adorable.

“For saving me from that douche in the bar. And for walking me back and letting me use you as a support. And for, well, everything, I guess. For allowing me to exist in your home and exist in your life. For...being my friend.” Manon looked away, suddenly ashamed of her giving of gratitude.

To her surprise, Thoth gave her a gentle smile, a smile that seemed to ease her pain and dissipate her embarrassment. A smile that brought her joy and a sense of security and comfort whenever she saw it.

“Of course. Anything for you.”

The End

Word Count: 2626