#egyptian pharoah x reader

[mwahmwahkissesdarling]

My A'aru, My Heaven

Pairing: Ahkmenrah x Fem/Maybe Genderfluid Reader

Summary: A taste testing night with a sprinkle of love (and religion ig)

Warnings: Kissing, fluff, extreme fluff, err fluff, more fluff, Cussing maybe, spelling and grammar mistakes, controversial topic, religion, me writing Christianity as someone who is not Christian, uhhh lmk if i need to put any other warnings???? idk

Note: yall the ahkmenrah brain rot is ... rotting? my brain? so hard

Alsooooooo this is my first fic (on this acc, posted anyway) so be easy

*A'aru is the Egyptian equivalent of Heaven for Christians <33 #wikipedia

You rip open a colorful package and hand it to Ahkmenrah.

"Here, these are gummy worms."

The Pharoah looked alarmed. "You eat…worms?"

You laugh. "Theyre not real worms. Here, just try one."

Ahk glances at you, unconvinced, but he takes a red and blue gummy in between his fingers and nibbles at it.

"Hm."

"Well?" You bit into yours and watched his reaction.

He shrugs. "Theyre… enjoyable, I suppose, but I don't prefer them myself."

You grin. "Yeah, me niether, I just wanted to see what you thought." You turn in your criss-cross-applesauce position on the floor in Ahkmen's exhibit to pick out a new candy and come back with two tin wrapped chocolate pieces. Picking one out, you hand it to him. "Have a Kiss," you joke.

Ahk stares at the candy in his hand, then back at you. "S-sorry?"

You look back at him, then realizing he wouldn't know the name of this candy, you laugh. "It's the name of the candy. Hershey Kisses." He slowly smiles. "Well, I wouldn't say no to a kiss, either." You roll your eyes. "Seriously-"

Ahk cuts you off with his lips. You lean into the kiss, setting your 'Kiss' down and running your hands up his torso and into his hair, letting your fingers tangle there. He cups your face with one hand and places the other on his sarcophagus case behind you, pressing you against it. You let him, knowing he usually doesn't take control like this.

After a moment, Ahk breaks away and breaths heavily, catching his breath.

"Do I really take away your breath that bad?" You joke, panting.

He runs his thumb against your bottom lip, his eyes flitting between your lips and your eyes. "Yes," He says simply. "You do."

You feel yourself blush and you smile. "Love you too, Ahk," was all you could get out.

Ahk smiles back and brushes his lips against your temple, then leans back, letting you have your space to continue taste-testing modern candy.

You resume your earlier position and cross your legs, pressing your knee against his as you grab your Hersheys. "Come on, eat it."

He groans but takes it and unwraps it with your guidance. He pops it into his mouth and his eyes widen.

You grin at him. "Right? Personally I prefer caramel with my chocolate, but I figured start small, y'know?"

Ahk slowly chews it. "Holy Ra. This is chocolate?" His mouth is still full, and you giggle at his bad manners. "Don't talk with your mouth full. Come on, King Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth kingdom of Egypt and all things fancy, have better manners." You tease and pause. "But yeah, it's chocolate. Although I'd describe it as heaven."

The Pharoah glanced at you, opening another Hershey. "I thought you said that was a place."

You nod, taking the Kiss out of his hands, throwing in the air, and catching it with your mouth. "Yeah. The place that Christians beleive is the perfect afterlife."

Ahk glares at you but otherwise ignores your theft. "You cant call a taste or an object heaven, then. It'd go against grammar rules and the belief of a Chrisin."

Swallowing, you shrug. "First of all, it's Christian, second of all, I don't think they care anymore, although don't quote me on that. My ma's Christian, and she refers to my mother as heaven."

He frowns, thinking. "So, you can call your other half 'heaven'?"

"Some people do," you pause. "Well. I've only ever heard it from my parents, and also Bruno Mars, but I think if someone says it in public, it's considered PDA. Public displays of affection." You reply to his confused look.

Ahk nods. "And thats… frowned upon." You make an "eh" sound. "Well, people don't particularly like it, but it's not as bad as, like, racism or something. Far from it." You scoff.

"So, for a… hypothetical example… I could call you heaven, but only in… private."

You turn and stare at him, a blush forming "W-well, yes, I-"

He kisses you, effectively shutting you up. You lose all train of thought, lost in his touch. He pulls you close, practically onto his lap before pulling away.

"You're my heaven." Ahk smiles at you, and you smile back.

"And you're my A'aru."

Your Pharoah, your king, your Ahk, your little slice of heaven, in your little corner of home.

#ahkmenrah x reader #ahkmenrah fluff #natm #natm ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah natm #x reader fluff #egyptian pharoah x reader #egyptian pharoah x reader fluff #NATM #Ahk x reader #ahk x reader #ahkxreader

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Yan parent Apocalypse??? Woah

Maybe the reader has a reincarnation sort of power and turns out to be his child during the Egyptian era?

(the X-Men evolution version, but now that I think about it he doesn't get much character depth to him)

Oh heavens, I almost forgot he was a possible option- But, to be honest, yes, I can do that. Let's do this for you, Apocalypse Anon:

You had always had a... unique... power.

One that earned you quite the reputation.

You were a mutant who could reincarnate.

That meant you could live forever, basically, as when one life died, you'd pass to another, and the cycle repeated, unbreaking, unending, since as far back as you can remember. That being said...

You were afraid of your past.

Namely, your father, once a Pharoah, who wanted to remake the world in his image... En Sabah Nur, or what he would later be called, Apocalypse.

You did everything in your power in each life to ensure he never broke out of his eternal imprisonment. If he were to break free all H*ll would break loose. He was nearly all-powerful, a fighter, someone who waged wars and won then, not backing down and never giving in.

You were possibly the one sentient being he cared about. You were his child, after all.

His one heir, named a god in their own right...

And now all your hard work to ensure he never escaped had been destroyed. Crushed. Obliterated. All because some shape-shifting, mind-controller, and some poor teen with... a LOT of powers? broke in and broke the last seal on your father's tomb.

The moment he's released, you can see him drawing the powers from the poor girl, and the statue of the shapeshifter, nothing but a stone husk of her former glory.

"That's enough, En Sabah Nur! Release her!" you scream, charging into the fray. Yet you don't don't make it far enough to land a blow as Apocalypse uses his new abilities to toss you aside.

"That is enough, pest," he intones, then turns, starting to leave the rocky chamber. You can hear others approaching, a smaller mutant running past as he goes to check on the fallen teenager. To stop any further damage, you play your last card:

"Father! It's me! Your Lotus of the Nile, your Heir! Remember? You once saw one floating into the royal pools, upon which a bee landed, taking from it its nectar. You dubbed me your lotus, your nectar of the flower, the honey of the gods," you cry out carefully, voice echoing in the chamber. You watch warily as the mutant freezes, turning to face you. His eyes are hard to read, cold and calculating... After a small eternity, he finally speaks...

"Child... It has been too long... It seems I'm not alone," he says, then waves his hand. In a flash your pulled forward, forced along as he ascends into the upper chambers. "We have much to do, my dear lotus... Now, it is time to remake the world as it should have been."

You glance back, sighing quietly with relief. At least the other two were spared for now. You mouth to them a message:

"I'll help you. Eyes on the inside."

And then you and your father are brought into a battle, facing off against the mutants who've come to stop him, and all you can do is pray they believe you, trust you enough to supply them help from the inside of Apocalypse's schemes. If you survive his 'love' long enough...

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere xmen evolution #platonic yandere apocalypse

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 1.5) Chapter Eleven

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Eleven: One Hell of a Train

Summary: Sebastian, Ciel, and (Y/N) find themselves dealing with multiple issues on a single train.

Mouse Note: Who saw the first Down Bad Sebastian moment?

            “Young Master, would you care for a cup of tea?” asked Sebastian, pouring the tea perfectly despite the movement of the train. “I personally feel the scent of this Williamson Magor Darjeeling, picked in the summer…” He smiled lightly as he saw Ciel wasn’t paying attention. “Young Master, we are simulating a pleasant train journey. If you do not wish to draw the criminal’s notice, you should look a little happier.”

            “I know,” huffed Ciel.

            “Are you that concerned about the Trancy family?” asked (Y/N), nose twitching at mentioning the family. The Trancy family was the one who had taken his soul and attempted to take him. It wasn’t a coincidence that they should be involved in other criminal activity or underground business, for the Queen or for themselves.

            “No,” denied Ciel. “It does bother me, but not that much. Right now, the Queen’s orders take priority.” He parted the curtain and peeked outside the compartment. A man was glancing around nervously. “That man must be Lord Ackroyd. The kidnapped child is his only son.”

            “ ‘If you notify the police, I will kill the hostage. Board this train with the ransom,’ ” quoted Sebastian from the ransom letter. “So the criminal instructed him. And the ransom is five thousand pounds.” He smirked. “You could say that is the price they have set for a soul.”

            (Y/N) grinned, their sharp canines showing at the comparison.

            Ciel ignored the demons’ antics. “The criminal is most likely on this train. We will find him, apprehend him, and save the hostage. That is the only way to relieve Her Majesty’s grief.”

            At least this “Queen” is a good replacement. The other was easily manipulated by a fallen angel, thought (Y/N). “Indeed,” was the only thing they said, however.

            Ciel stood. “We’ll go to the dining car. I’m hungry.”

            (Y/N) and Sebastian followed him as they exited the compartment and went into another car.

            “It could be called the discovery of the century!” said a man pompously to an enraptured crowd around his seat. “I found the Pharoah Smenkhkare asleep in the Valley of the Kings!” He laughed boisterously.

            “He’s boasting about desecrating graves. Talk about bad taste,” remarked Ciel.

            “I met the Pharoah once, when he was alive. He was a most affable and virtuous person,” said Sebsatian. He considered the glimpse of the sarcophagus and mummy he’d seen earlier. “Still, even though he appeared quite dehydrated, his features were quite different.”

            “I always did like the Egyptians,” commented (Y/N).

            “Because you got them to worship you for a while?” said Sebastian with a smirk.

            “Well, of course. It was quite fun being worshipped,” said (Y/N), smiling coyly.

            Sebastian was not one to let his pride go, but the idea of worshiping them he’d get on his knees for (Y/N) if they asked him wasn’t terrible. Of course, he wouldn’t be opposed to them worshiping him, either. Equality in treatment and respect was imperative to a relationship. That and Sebastian couldn’t decide whether the idea of being on his knees for them or seeing them on their knees for him was more attractive, so both would have to do.

            “Sebastian, the Pharoah’s features were different?” said Ciel, interrupting them before they ran away with their strange conversations of past demonic travels. “You mean that was a fake? So, you’re saying he’s the criminal?”

            “I cannot be sure just yet,” said Sebastian.

            “Oh!” a gasp from beside them drew their attention. Another man in a seat had wild eyes as he looked at a book. “The train that left St. Pancreas Station at 9:00 will meet the tracks bound for Cambridge on a level crossing at 10:18 near Bedford! Oh! This is thrilling! I can’t miss it! The train will arrive at Derby Station at 13:05. Oh! There will definitely be a delay! Judging by the station workers and the weather, this will be tough. Maybe seven minutes?”

            Ciel deadpanned. “Is he reading the timetables?”

            “He seems to have a curious attachment to railroads,” said Sebastian in amusement.

            Ciel sighed and walked forward, slightly nudging a parcel at a passenger’s feet. “Hey, what are you doing?!” cried the man.

            (Y/N) bowed. “You must be from Japan. What a fine arabesque-patterned furoshiki you have there.”

            “Don’t touch it! It’s an important family treasure,” huffed the man.

            “I am sorry. He is always so stubborn.” A little old woman walked up to them. “Please accept this by way of an apology.” She held up some food.

            Ciel stared awkwardly, so Sebastian interjected, “Thank you, but it is quite alright.”

            “Oh really?” The woman tottered over to another passenger. “Then, how about you take some? I still have many left. I have some with dried bonito and plum. Please, help yourselves!”

            “I don’t want any,” said a passenger as she pushed the food into their face. “Didn’t you hear that cholera is raging in Japan?”

            “Don’t you dare accuse us—!” The woman’s wife stormed out of his seat.

            “Please, stop this.” A priest stood up from his seat. “Don’t you think it’s rude to treat travelers from such distant lands in this manner?”

            “Shut up! Stay in your place!” shouted another passenger.

            “A passage from the Bible says that travelers are fortunate,” continued the priest.

            “The 14:45 trail will…!” The excited clamor of the man obsessed with the timetable was drowned out by the rest of the drama.

            (Y/N)’s nose twitched. Humans were always so nosy.

            “It must be destiny that we met on this train!” declared the priest, extending his arms.

            (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. He had a tattoo. Priests didn’t have tattoos. Naughty, naughty. Playing a priest~

            “Oh, my.” Sebastian smirked as he noticed the same thing.

            “Everybody, please calm down!” cried a new voice as a man threw open the car door. “Cool down and sit down!” He flounced through the corridor between seat. He took of his hat to reveal a face that was nearly identical to the late-Abberline’s apart from a mustache. “It’s no wonder you’re so tense! A murderer is being transported on this train.”

            Everyone froze. They had not known that.

            “But he’s under strict police surveillance. He can’t move a muscle,” said not-Abberline. “So, you really don’t need to wo…” He trailed off as he saw the passengers’ expressions.

            “Run!” The passengers ran from the car, nearly trampling not-Abberline. (Y/N) and Sebastian smoothly stepped to the sides, and Sebastian picked up Ciel under the arms.

            Ciel blinked and deadpanned as he was set down. He stared at the trampled man. “That man is…”

            Not-Abberline popped up. “Oh! You’re the Phantomhive!”

l

            “Eating this eel pie is so nostalgic,” said not-Abberline. The group had migrated to the dining car to discuss the situation on the train so Ciel could have all the facts for his own case. “Traditional English cuisine tastes like Mother’s cooking. By the way, that was quite the kerfuffle.”

            Ciel deadpanned. “And who was the cause of that?” He collected himself. “Anyway, Lord Randall will reproach you for having a meal with me.”

            “Not at all. Actually, I’d like to get to know you better. My twin brother was always talking about you,” said not-Abberline. “I’m Fred, by the way, if you don’t want to call me the same name as him.”

            Ah, so that’s why he looks like Abberline, thought (Y/N).

            “Twin? I can’t believe another vexing man like that exists,” said Ciel.

            “Ah, I wish my brother could eat this, too,” sighed Fred.

            Right. Abberline is dead.

            Ciel narrowed his eyes and glanced at Sebastian and (Y/N). The message was clear: Fred had no idea about the kidnapping they were investigating. At the same moment, his gaze caught on the only other passenger in the dining car: a man in a dark cloak and hat with glasses.

            (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed and slid to the man with Sebastian. Golden eyes stared back at them. Claude Faustus of the Trancy estate. Demon butler. Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as Claude’s gaze rested firmly on (Y/N).

            “What is it?” said Ciel.

            “Nothing,” said Sebastian, turning back to him with a calm smile. “Shall we go then, Young Master?” Ciel nodded and stood.

            “That’s not good, Phantomhive. You should rest after eating, otherwise your stomach will hurt,” said Fred, still eating himself.

            “This train is certainly full of suspicious passengers,” remarked (Y/N) as they returned to their compartment.

            “Yes,” agreed Ciel. “A tattooed priest. A bogus archeologist. An unsociable Japanese man. A man who gets excited reading train timetables. Everyone is so blatantly suspicious.”

“And we have a murderer aboard, too,” reminded Sebastian.

            “Excuse me,” muttered a man, squeezing by them with a cap pulled low over his face, the back of his hand scuffed.

            Ciel’s eyes widened, and he grabbed the man’s sleeve. “You were working at the station earlier.” Finny had bumped into him and a box had fallen on his hand. “Why are you on this train, dressed like a traveler?”

            “Damn!” cursed the man, taking off down the hall.

            “He’s the culprit!” said Ciel, running after him. He flung open the door of the car, but the man had already uncoupled the next car, and it was falling away from the main train. “Don’t let him get away, Sebastian, (Y/N)!”

            “Very well,” said Sebastian.

            “He’s ours,” said (Y/N).

            The demons jumped from the end of the car to the platform on the other. They opened the door to find the kidnapper trying to get the money from Ackroyd, who nervously clutched the bag. (Y/N) smoothly pulled the gun from the kidnapper’s pocket with such deftness that neither man took notice. They pulled back the hammer behind the man’s head, and he froze.

            “Now, now, let’s not be talking about a little boy’s life when yours is the one on the line,” purred (Y/N) with a smile.

            “H-How did you…” The kidnapper held up his hands, stammering over his words.

            “Where is the child you are holding hostage?” asked Sebastian amiably.

            “O-On that train,” replied the kidnapper. “But it’s too bad. You won’t be able to save him.”

            Sebastian’s gaze darkened. His contract was also on that train. “Which is to say?”

            “I planted a bomb on that train that will blow up when it stops,” said the kidnapper. “I thought it’d be nice to have some fireworks after swindling this guy out of his money.” He cackled gleefully.

            Sebastian checked his pocket watch. “The train will arrive at the next station in ten minutes.”

            “Take tha—!”

            The kidnapper’s laughter was cut short as (Y/N) smacked him over the head with his gun. They picked up his body and tossed it out the window. “I don’t have time for fools,” they said.

            “Let’s go,” said Sebastian. He and (Y/N) leapt out the window and began running across the train tracks. They had a train to—quite literally—catch.

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

@idkhowtoplayhoyoversegames

@iamsexytrash

#one hell of a love #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #demon reader #demon!reader #sebastian x demon!reader #sebastian x reader #black butler sebastian #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian michaelis #black butler fic #black butler ciel #black butler #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji x reader

[keepsmagnetoaway]

X-Men 54 (March 1969)

Arnold Drake & Don Heck

[Steve Martin's "King Tut" begins to play]

That's our in media res opening for this issue, which sure is...something. How did we get here? Well, there's no very good reason, but we sure learn a lot this issue, like that Cyclops has had a brother the whole time who he never mentioned until he invited all the X-Men to his college graduation.

So then they all decide to go out for a drink, but oh wait! Egyptians!

Those are (parts of) pages 1, 2, and 3 of this issue. It literally moves that fast. Murder! Brother! Egyptians! Bam! Bam! Bam! What the hell is happening? You'll notice also thar while we're back to the slightly ho-hum art of Don Heck the panel layouts have suddenly become massively more ambitious, which is good. Anyway hold on to your hats because here's page 4.

Then everything slows down for a big fight in which the X-Men show up and save the day and Alex learns his big brother's secret. It's nice that they're talking and everything but the reader is likely to still be wondering "who the fuck are these Egyptians", a question the writers are not interested in answering.

The issue ends with Cyclops, fleeing the police, running back into the Living Pharoah, who seemed to have died but I guess he's living, the clue is in the name.

Maybe next issue they'll explain why this small college town is full of Egyptian cultists? Please? I kind of have to figure that somebody just came into the office and went "you know what's fun to draw? Egyptians" and to be fair they're not wrong, but, like, why.

#x men comics #an xmen a day #xmen #uncanny xmen

[poptod]

hello! i'd like to make an ahkmenrah x reader request! maybe present-day reader gets teleported back in time to when ahkmenrah was alive and they eventually get to the palace and stuff happens? maybe they tell him about modern life? and maybe reader is unnaturally beautiful to the ancient egyptians because humans evolve to be more attractive as time goes on so a person from our time would be hot shit 4,000 years ago? this is long lmao. thanks!

Notes: god ive always wanted to do this kind of storyline but i was worried about like,, logic and stuff getting in the way of the storyline. anyway! i was so fucking elated to receive this request. i got a bit carried away so apologies! WC: 3.2k

+

Okay. It isn't that bad.

Would you ever see your family again? Probably not, but you weren't ruling the possibility out.

Would you ever get to have sour patch kids again? Probably not. But even during the time you lived in 2020, you had eaten more concentrated sour patch kids flavor than all of the people around you combined.

This little village on the outskirts of ancient Thebes is hardly L.A.––though that's probably a good thing––and is small enough for you to know every inhabitant. Your shop there is small to suit the town, and well known ever since your arrival in this time.

They found you beside the river, thought you to be a gift from the Gods. You were hazy, though––whatever had so forcefully pushed you back in time had made your head spin, making you sick and unbalanced. So, when they asked if you did in fact come from the Gods, you had no way of defending yourself either way. Generally you've been denying it––they think you are a god, and the only way you've convinced them you're not a god is by saying you're a gift from them. It explains the way you look, unnaturally beautiful and alien amongst the more pure genetics of earlier humans.

Your shop is pretty simple. You make portraits from paint, more realistic than anything else that exists, and it only affirms their belief in your god-like status. Fortunately word seems to not have gotten out––the village has remained small, and no one from Thebes has run into you. Every now and then you get unreasonably anxious that a noble will find you and turn you into a slave. It's a worry most people around you have, so you find comfort in the fact that you're not the only one. Still, you're not quite accustomed to such an atmosphere––the thought of nobles and Kings noticing you still sends terrified aches into your stomach.

It's about two weeks in that it gets bad. People start to pass by the village, more than you would've thought, and they're all looking to trade goods, food, and information. The people of the village talk about you––you're something interesting, you can't deny that, but they don't know just how worried you are. Whenever you see someone you don't recognize outside your home, you refuse to come out.

Five days later and there's soldiers in your home, looking over your paintings on their way back to Memphis from conquering the realm of Kush. You hold a deep contempt for them––you don't know all that much about history, but you know how Egyptian soldiers and Pharaohs reigned power over the people of Kush.

The soldiers aren't all that worrying. What really gets your heart pounding is the final man to enter your hut; a man bearing a crown and a long sword, with golden braces around his wrists and a chest plated in green scales. Your fingers dig into the wood of your counter when he notices you. The crown on his head––it's the crown of both upper and lower Egypt.

This is a Royal.

"Where did you learn this skill?" He asks you, eyes trained on one of your bigger drawings. It's just on papyrus––not for sale––and hung on the wall as a display of your talent.

"I spent a little while travelling the world," you answer. Technically, growing up in the modern world was a bit like travelling the world; you got to see the cultures and practices of many, many people. "The rest of it's practice."

"The peasants here, they... they claim you came from the Nile. Is that true?"

"Well... that is where I was found," you say carefully, but you can already tell you've fucked up. The look on his face is indescribable beyond the fact that he's pleased.

"How would you feel coming back to the capital with me?" He offers to you, setting his hands on the counter and leaning forward. "I think my father would much like to meet you."

"I – I don't think I'm really cut out for -"

"Nonsense," he dismisses with a smile, taking your hand from its' spot on the wood. "We shall teach you proper writing skills, give you a beautiful home, and the salary isn't horrid either."

You can't just say no. If you do, he's going to ask questions––he's going to get confused, and he's going to get suspicious. No one would turn down an opportunity like this; free schooling, free housing, and much more money for something you already do.

"Well... alright," you say quietly, looking to the home around you that you built with the help of the other villagers.

"Wonderful. My name is Kamun."

He's not a very nice person, you come to find. Or perhaps he's just not your tastes––the soldiers seem to like him well enough, at least the ones who aren't completely subordinate to him, but his attitude towards women and poor people is scathing to say the least. Otherwise he's very amusing, with a good sense of humor and quite generous with his food and wine as long as he gets his fill of it first.

The boat back to Memphis, where the royal family currently stays, is a long ride filled with various entertainments. It's clear these are not soldiers accustomed to rough conditions––the dancing women and flowing beer is enough to tell you that. Instead, you surmise these are faux war-heroes; people adored in their hometown for doing nothing but intimidating others in a foreign country. They try to get cushy with you, soften you up to their words and touches. It doesn't work.

He keeps you close to him. You let him do it, sort of––it's better than telling him no. Better than starting a ruckus. Then again, avoiding a ruckus is what got you here in the first place, standing before the doors of the courtroom where a false God on earth rules the Nile.

"Father, I bring you a gift from Thebes," says Kamun, pushing you forward by the small of your back. You can't bring yourself to meet the Pharoah's eye, so you fall to your knees and bow.

Everyone is staring at you. You don't look normal, and they all know it, and you know it. You could cry from the heat of their eyes on your back.

One of Kamun's soldiers steps forwards, handing the Pharaoh and his wife several of the drawings they'd taken from you. Silence passes as the two scan your work.

"How did you achieve such a mirror of the human face?" The Pharaoh asks in a slow, deep voice that sounds as he looks––old, weathered, wise.

"They came from the Nile," Kamun answers for you, and murmurs take the crowd by storm. You, on the other hand, feel your heartbeat increase in massive increments, speeding your already uneven breath. "A gift from the Gods, the locals said."

"I can't – I am not magic," you rush out, hoping your clarification clears you of any responsibility to the Pharaoh. You know he rules everything––if he says you are to stay here, you have no choice, and you don't like it here. Too many people. "I cannot give you anything, my King."

"I think you're lying," says a voice, its' tone soft and a velvet low. It catches you off guard, brings you to raise your head and meet the eyes of someone you don't know; a young man dressed in gold beside the Pharaoh's throne.

You almost lose your breakfast as your eyes bulge, your mind instantly recognizing him and connecting the dots. You were, by far, not a historian, but you knew a fair amount of Egyptian history––namely a family in the Old Kingdom who was headed by the Pharaoh Merenkahre. The remaining statues and busts of the King and his son are astonishingly accurate, and there can be no doubt in your head.

That being said, there also can't be any reaction on your face. You try your best to reign your expression in.

"I..."

Actually, you do have something to offer now. You know the names––memorized the history, committed each event to memory, and now you can pull their lifestory off from the top of your head. Wouldn't that be valuable to a King; a seer of the future, to predict the rise and fall of the economy and the coming armies. Besides, you can't just say he's wrong. That'd be treasonous to them. So you have to agree you're hiding something, come up with an excuse as to why you hid it, and it proves harder than you thought. You're quickwitted, though––it got you away from the villager's wrath, and it will promote you to noble living now.

You hide a smirk beneath a calm expression as you address the younger prince.

"They gifted me foresight," you say quietly, pretending as though it hurts you to tell the truth, "but told me to never inform others."

"You are in the presence of Ra once more," the Pharaoh reminds you.

"And others," you point out. "I would... it would be better to discuss such matters.. in private."

Detailed information about already-past events is enough to sway him to believe you. The Pharaoh is surprisingly easy to convince, and with a few, meaningless predictions of the future, he gives you housing in his own palace. Kamun looks proud of himself––puffs his chest out in front of his father and earns no compliment. Ire laces his glare as it falls upon his brother, Ahkmen, praised for his ability to see through your obvious lie.

The Pharaoh asks his younger son to guide you to your room. Apparently it's closer to his room than it is to Kamun's, and evening is approaching fast. The walk there, while short, is marked by a conversation composed mainly of Ahkmen's questions and your answers. When the two of you reach your room, he doesn't leave––actually, he follows you in and locks the door.

There's nothing more terrifying than a man with unchecked power, and there is no one watching you.

No fail safe.

You gulp.

"I know you're still not telling the truth," he says, and though it dismisses several of your worries it still begs the question; how did he notice? "Just thought I'd spare you the embarrassment in front of my father, but my generosity ends there. Now I won't hurt you, and I won't tell anyone––I'm just curious."

Oh thank fuck. He's not going to rape you.

"I'm not Egyptian," you blurt out.

"Obviously," he interrupts, but you glare him into raising his hands defensively.

"I'm from the future."

He stares at you. For a minute. You know this because you count it––he just pauses right in his stance, doesn't move, and stares at you for a whole minute like you just told him you're made of gold.

"I'm sorry, what?" He says, laughter suddenly wracking his body.

"It's how I know what's going to happen to your family," you say, hoping he'll believe you. Otherwise this handsome, seemingly-nice man is going to think you're insane for the rest of time. "I studied your family for years as a side-hobby, I don't know how to predict the future for anything but you and your father."

His laughing pauses, or lightens at least; enough for him to say, "actually?"

"Yes," you say, completely serious. This seems to gain his interest once more. "You have to help me. I know at some point people are going to ask me questions about other things and I'm not going to have an answer."

"Just do what all our priests do," he says with a chuckle.

"What do they do?"

"Lie," he says. You can't stop the grin that spreads across your face from the stupid joke, and when he sees that a shit-eating grin spreads across his own face, delighted he could make you laugh.

"Yes, well... I guess I could do that," you mumble in a laugh.

"There's no need for you to worry. Now that I know the truth, I can help you," he says, offering you something that takes nearly all the anxiety out of your brain. After two days travel with a prince, it feels like it took 50 pounds off your shoulders.

"Thank you, so much," you chuckle in relief.

"Of course. I do have questions though, and I want you to answer them."

"Anything."

These questions of his, they come at all times––almost at a constant rate when he takes you on long walks, which he does often. He passes it off to his father as an interest in your beauty, and it apparently works. This little lie also helps you enormously in avoiding the romantic advances of many of the people you come into contact with. You're still not quite sure how it works, since Egyptians supposedly had a strong sense of patriotism, but you look rare and they idolize it. Every eye that falls upon you sees something beautiful, and you can't understand it.

At least Ahkmen is normal. He doesn't talk about you being beautiful. Ever.

And it kind of makes you sad.

"Would you say people on the whole are happier in the future or in the past?" He asks you, his words surrounded by the warmth of a summer day in Egypt.

Birds chatter loudly in the trees around you, singing in the humid air that marks the mating season for many of them. The flowers that surround you are already familiar––you thought it would take longer for you to commit the shapes and colors to memory, but here you are. Dressed in gold-laced silk and turquoise necklaces.

"I think the happiness of a population is dependent entirely on the circumstances surrounding it," you say. Sometimes your answers relate more to the human condition than the progress of time on the human race; he likes these answers, too, so you tell him exactly what you think. "Six thousand years from now, there are times of great misery. One is even called the Great Depression, but five years before that were some of the most prosperous times my country had ever seen. The same cycle is evident here."

"So.. great misery and great happiness come in waves?" He asks, pace slowing as he tries to understand what you're saying. You pause along the pathway, allowing him space to think.

"It's a pattern, actually. When the economy goes up, it will always come down. Recessions happen right after economical booms. And yes," you say before he can ask, "a time of unease will follow the prosperity of the current years. But it won't be for a time yet."

"Will it happen in my lifetime?"

He's murdered about three years from now. You think you might be able to stop it, but if you do, it'll alter history quite a lot. Either way, he wouldn't live long enough to see the recession the building of the great pyramids caused.

"No," you say. "But I'd prepare for it anyway, if only to keep your citizens safe."

"Of course. You... you are a great scholar," he tells you, resuming the slow walk down the shore of the Nile.

"Oh. Uh, thank you," you mumble as a blush fills your cheeks.

"What did you do in your time?"

"I was an artist, but I spent a lot of time giving lectures on the role of autistic people in ancient Egypt. Autistic people are often timekeepers," you say, and you know he'll figure out what you mean. Autistic isn't a term here, but many timekeepers of these ancient times were autistic, and considered highly by their societies.

"You might be able to give lectures again, if you'd like," he suggests. "People would come from far and wide to hear you speak. And you've got things to say that I know many scholars will find interesting."

"Mmm," you wince, "I kind of want to stay away from altering history too much."

"Oh, yes. My apologies," he says in a softer voice.

"It's alright," you say. "I'm glad you think I would be a good choice for that kind of thing, though."

He chuckles bashfully as he turns to the ground, scuffing his sandals as he walks.

Ahkmen is sweet––much sweeter than any of his family members, and you find yourself appreciating that every time you pass by his room. You pass his door often, always stopping a second to contemplate the tall, wooden doors. He's on the pathway between your room and the library.

Most of the time he's not in his room. Actually, you can usually find him in the library––there or outside in the markets or near the stalls. Today is different; he's been missing all day, and only when you walk the path back to your room do you hear his voice, talking to himself in his bedroom.

"They're bombarded with just such compliments, though. I can't – I can't stand out!"

"Or maybe you should, because you still haven't said a single thing yet and they probably think you're completely uninterested and that's why they aren't noticing you?"

"You and your... logic," Ahkmen spits.

"Come complaining when you kiss them under my advice."

As you attempt to peek through the crack in the door you stumble, knocking your hand against the wood. You barely hesitate before knocking again––cool and collected, smooth to slip into another lie.

"Oh! Hello, um – hi," he says awkwardly, slipping out of the room when he sees you. He quickly closes the door behind him, careful to keep you from seeing the other person in his room, but you can't bring yourself to care about the stranger.

Think of an excuse, why am I here?

"Oh, that's... I like your flower," he comments softly, eyes flickering between your eyes and the flower tucked into your hair. You'd forgotten about it, but raised your hand to touch the petals as you smiled. The perfect excuse

"Thank you. I thought you might like it, so I," you take it out of your hair and grab his hand, holding his palm upwards, "wanted to show you.. um, here."

Setting the flower in his hand, you curl his fingers around its' stem and push his hands back into his chest. He stares at you for a moment, confused by your strange behavior, but accepting of your gift anyway. You know him well enough now––he'd never decline a gift from you.

"A white iris," he tells you in a lofty tone. "A symbol of the dead. Funny it looks so lively on you."

You need to get out of here before your chest combusts.

"I need to go now, but I'll see you this evening, yes?" You ask, stepping instinctively closer. He doesn't back away.

"Of course. And, um," he takes your hands, keeps you where you stand as he slips the flower back behind your ear, "keep it. I want to see it on you at dinner."

He's close to you––close enough that it gets hard to distinguish his breath from your own, when you started holding his hand. When his other came up to your face. When he leans in and kisses your forehead. It's barely there, just barely, but there's no mistaking the soft plush, the affection clear behind gentle, precise movements.

You rush away the second he lets your hands go.

#ahkmenrah x reader #rami malek

[spicysoftsweet]

Kinktober: Week 1

Hisoka x Reader - Roleplay Headcanons

A/N: Idk why I turned this into some weird poem but please enjoy <3

Make sure to check out my lovely mutuals (@trash-writings, @hisokapegger​ @mynameseri​ for the rest of today’s Kinktober posts!)

Hisoka, as expected, is absolutely into this 

And since he switches effortlessly into being the dominant one in the relationship to submitting to your every whim, it’s quite a fun transition

So of course, any time he whispers into your ear 

“Who would you like me to be today, prince(ss)?”

You know you’re in for a treat

~~~

If you’re having a bad day, he might surprise you with a subservient role

Done as sexily as possible of course

There’s a particularly revealing ancient Egyptian servant costume he is partial to

Which really is nothing more than an elaborately decorated loincloth  over that space between his legs

resting low on his hips so that you can see that V-line you love so much

And he massages your feet and fattens you up with grapes or whatever fruit he can feed you directly from his mouth to yours (that’s the most important part, of course!)

And carefully massages your skin with fragrant oils that smell of jasmine and myrrh while he kneels beside you in the bath

And calls you his Pharoah before he dives into you while you’re still submerged

And makes you moan and shiver

Denial isn’t a river in Egypt

You are his, whether you like it or not

~~

Or sometimes, he wants a reversal of power

And now he’s a CEO (because what could be more ridiculous than seeing Hisoka in a suit and tie and behind some oak desk)

And you’re his dirty secretary that sucks at filing documents or answering calls

But knows just how to bend over for him,

Or open up your mouth wide for his always attentive second-in-command

And relieve his stress as he fits you in (or maybe you fit him in) between back to back board meetings

There is no business more pressing than pleasing each other, is there?

~~~

Sometimes you’re little Red Riding Hood

And the deep red of your cape blends in with the bloody tinge of your skin

As the Big Bad Wolf bares his teeth, biting and sucking at your earlobes, your neck, your nipples, your belly, down your limbs and every space in between 

Hard enough to just break the skin but not as hard as he is

Before making quick work of the goodies you possess

Ramming into you fiercely at an animalistic pace like the woodland beast he is

Or can be...

My what big teeth you have, what big everything...

~~~

Sometimes he’s a magician, how cliché

And his act is seeing how far he can go to make you scream

To make you moan enough that your voice becomes the vanishing act

To see exactly what he can do with his cards... is he the King of Hearts?

Can he split you in half? 

You know he can, but you also know (thank goodness!) he can bring you back together again

~~~

What if you were strangers that met at a bar?

He’d have to convince you to fall the same way you did so long ago

‘What is your name, kitten?’ he asks.

You play hard to get, but he wins, every time over and over again

How many drinks will it take for you to be with him? The answer is none, you were done the moment you met eyes...

(*** This particular scenario has gotten you far too ashamed to frequent many an establishment in your neighborhood. It’s hard to go out when every bartender knows what your cries of pleasure sound like, forcing their way out from behind the single bathroom stall)

~~~

Are you good study buddies? He would say so

But it’s hard to focus on calculus when you’re on top of him

Trying to stay still and not move

Paying close attention to the knowledge he tries to impart to you

As you cockwarm him while he tries to teach you how to find the area under the curve

The curve of your back? His dick? You forgot, concentrate!

If x is the pleasure you feel having him inside you, what is the limit as x approaches infinity?

~~~

Maybe roleplaying being newlyweds

Is a little bit of jumping the gun

Especially when you’re not sure you’ll ever marry

But you sure enjoy fucking him in dressed up white and black, saying your vows at the top of your lungs

As though you know for sure, he will forever be the one

I do, today and forever

~~~

When he is your photographer, it’s especially fun

Modeling everything from the highest fashion to your birthday suit

His enthusiasm as he snaps pictures of you in increasingly suggestive poses

Reminding you that you’re the most beautiful thing in front or away from the camera

Really does boost your self esteem

Can we capture this moment forever?

~~~

But of course the best roleplay

Is you two just being yourselves

Because you love Hisoka for Hisoka

And he loves you for you

And you wouldn’t have it any other way

#kinktober #fluff? #hisoka x reader #hisoka #hisoka morow #hisoka morow x reader

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Poisoned Princess (1/2)

Fandom: Night At The Museum

Specified gender: Female

Pairing: Ahkmenrah x reader

TW: Mention of death, mentions of murder, mentions of poison

Genre: IDK to be honest- angst with a kinda fluffy end I guess??????

Word Count: 2.1K

Request:  Hey hey hey, could you possibly do an Ahkmenrah x reader for me pls where the reader is an Egyptian princess and she’s gets moved into the museum :3 love you know who 💋

Requests: OPEN

A/n: I’m planning a part two! I’ve never written for Ahkmenrah before so I don’t know how accurate characterizations will be. I tried my best and I hope you like it! Also, to my best friend who requested this, HERE YOU GO, MY LOVE,

"Woah, woah, woah, woah! Ahk, bud, you can't go down there." Larry exclaimed, immediately jogging to catch up with the Egyptian pharaoh.

"What? Why? I'm trying to get to my exhibit." Ahkmenrah responded, confusion printed on his features, head turning to meet the night guard.

"You'll have to go around via the main reception. There's a new exhibit being built just next to yours. Don't worry, you'll be able to roam again in a week, tops." Larry answered, quickly getting distracted as Dexter began climbing his leg, attempting to grab his keys. "No, go bother someone else, Dexter."

"What's going in this new exhibit?" Ahkmenrah pushed curiously. It'd been a while since there'd been any exhibits, as far as he had heard.

"I've no idea. They don't tell me that much- I just make sure you guys don't go wandering over there. Now c'mon we need to sort your bandages out before sunrise." Larry ordered, leading the king towards his exhibit. Ahkmenrah couldn't help but wonder who or what was coming, and how they'd react to everyone. It was the last thought in his mind as he felt himself drift to sleep as the sun began streaming through the windows of the museum.

"Princess? Your cousin would like to see you. He insists that he see you before you're crowned Queen." Your maid stated, her head poked through the door as another maid put the finishing touches on your makeup.

"Tell him he can come in." You remarked softly, quietly standing up as the maid doing your makeup took a step back, allowing you to see your finished look. Barely a second had passed before your eldest cousin burst in, a small, almost scary, smile on his lips.

"(Y/N), you look beautiful. I can't believe my little cousin is going to be Queen. This calls for a celebration." Mohmoad stated, holding a glass of wine behind his back, making his way over to the table, two glasses placed upon it. You gently waved your maids away, giving them a smile of gratitude.

"We shouldn't. There'll be a celebration after the coronation." You murmured, carefully fiddling with the ends of your hair.

"Oh come. What can a glass of wine hurt? Just one, I promise." He responded, his back turned to you as he began pouring two glasses of wine.

"Oh, I suppose you're right. Only one, though, Mohmoad." You sighed, sitting down on the edge of your bed, careful not to crease your dress. You suddenly heard a small crack and saw your cousin fumbling with something. "What was that?"

"Nothing. I nearly dropped the wine, that's all. Don't worry." Mohmoad lied, quickly slipping the smaller bottle back in the lining of his outfit. You raised an eyebrow and tried to peak at what he was doing, before settling back silently.

"If you say so." You sighed, gracefully crossing your legs, hands placed in your lap. Mohmoad turned around, two glasses in hand. He strutted over, handing a glass to you before taking his place beside you. With a gentle touch, your cousin clinked your glasses together and raised it slightly.

"To you. My beautiful cousin. May you have success in your reign and long may you live." Your cousin had a smirk tugging the corner of his lips as he brought the glass to his lips. After shooting him a wary glance, you copied him, letting the red liquid slip down your throat. As you went to speak again, you felt your throat constrict, a burning sensation tearing through your insides. Coughs escaped your mouth as you choked on your own saliva, fingers releasing the wine to latch onto your neck. You attempted to reach for Mohmoad but grabbed air, swiftly falling to the ground. You were scared. Terrified. You were going to de.

"What did you do?" You managed to choke out, pain searing through you with every word spoken, as Mohmoad towered over your rapidly crippling body.

"Sleep tight, Princess." He remarked before stepping out of the room. The last thing you saw was a maid burst in, mouth open in a distant scream.

When you woke, you had no idea where you were. It was dark, eerily silent, and your body felt constricted, causing your body to become riddled with anxiety. Your breathing starting to quicken as you reached up only to hit something hard. You'd never been one for tight spaces, Without a seconds hesitation, you smashed your fists against the surface, crying to be let out, muffled by whatever was wrapped around your face. Your wrists were starting to hurt, but you didn't want to stop. You couldn't spend another second in this dark abyss.

"Gigantor is that new exhibit done yet? I'd love to meet the new edition. Besides, it's been over two weeks." Jed yelled from his place on the desk, Octavious jabbing his sword into his foot to grab his attention.

"Look I don't know alright. Go check yourselves." Larry huffed, moving his feet off the desk.

"What if they're dangerous? We're just small, but you're gigantor." Octavius shot back.

"Thought you guys were supposed to be brave? Look, if you're that scared take Teddy or Sacagawea. I need to watch Rexy." Larry brushed the two men off as the floor shook, the loud echoing footsteps of a certain dinosaur approaching.

"Welp, guess we better get Teddy." Jed sighed, climbing down the desk, extending a hand for Octavius.

"Why would they want to build a new exhibit by the Pharoah? We're much more interesting." Octavius declared, taking Jed's hand as he climbed down himself.

"We are, but if you haven't realized, we're short of space by our exhibit," Jed answered, jumping into the toy car with Octavius, speeding to Sacagawea's exhibit. If Teddy would be anywhere, it's there. He was barely separated from her now.

"Ah, Jedediah, Octavius. What can I do for you?" Teddy greeted warmly, pulling his gaze away from Sacagawea, a small smile on his face.

"Was wonderin' if you'd like to see if that new exhibit?"

"Is that a translation of 'We're too scared to go ourselves'? And why don't you ask Ahkmenrah, he's the closest to the exhibit? Teddy raised an eyebrow.

"Still sleeping. C'mon, we want to go!"Octavius insisted, ignoring the first question. Teddy and Sacagawea rolled their eyes but followed the car, zooming towards the new exhibit.

It would be a lie to say Sacagawea and Teddy weren't curious too, though they clearly hid it better than the two miniature soldiers. The group glanced at Ahkmenrah's tomb as they passed it, eyeing the Anubis soldiers nervously. As they walked further down the corridor, they looked around in amazement; the small Egyptian section transformed into a corridor, holding artifacts and information on different forms of burying rituals. A turning revealing a large, open room, similar to that of the King only a few metres away. It was calm. That was until large banging and yelling broke the serenity,  the lid to the sarcophagus shaking at the force.

"They don't seem too friendly." Jed gulped, slowly backing the car up a little.

"Maybe we should leave them be." Octavius continued, as Jed continued to move the car towards the entrance of the exhibit.

"Nonsense! We all thought that of Ahkmenrah and look how...nice he is."Teddy persuaded, but even he looked hesitance.

"I think I would have to agree with Jedediah and Octavius. This doesn't seem safe." Sacagawea reasoned, putting a hand on Teddy's arm.

"We can't leave them trapped in there; that's torture," Teddy argued, taking a step closer to the screaming sarcophagus.

"Don't risk it, Teddy," Jed warned, pausing the car's motion.

"I'm wax, how much damage can they do?" Teddy quickly shot back, giving the trio behind him a reassuring smile before approaching the Egyptian coffin. After a minutes hesitation, which made the others crawl with nervousness, Teddy pushed the lid off, nearly being knocked off his feet as a wrapped shot up. The smell of old, musty paper hit their noses as the figure rose. They began fumbling with their bandages, scrambling to tear them from their face, letting out a heavy cough of sand and dust upon ripping them off.

Eyes widened as the cloud dispersed, revealing a woman, who looked no older than nineteen, (H/C) hair pulled up into an elegant updo, (E/C) eyes darted around, fear and confusion soon swimming in them, upon realizing she was in a new environment, surrounded by strangers. Teddy, after a minute of shock, extended a hand, which was quickly swatted away, backing up as far as possible.

"Who are you? What am I doing here? Where am I?" You exclaimed, panic edging your voice as your back hit the back of the sarcophagus. The group exchanged glances, not quite sure what to say or how to explain.

"Teddy, maybe you should go get Ahk.."Sacagawea advised, stepping aside as Jed zipped forward to get a closer look, resulting in you jumping back harshly.

"Maybe that would be a good idea." Teddy agreed before jogging out of the large hall-like room. Three pairs of eyes watched you intently, your fingers gripping the side of the cold sarcophagus so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

"We don't want to hurt you, you're safe here." Sacagawea tried, and you shot her a small, unbelieving glare.

"How could I possibly believe that?" You snapped shakily, attempting to move back further, though you knew there was no space behind you.

"You can't, you just have to trust us," Octavius replied, looking slightly freaked out.

"Why should I trust you?" You pushed, alarm taking over entirely. Before anyone could respond, two sets of footsteps began approaching, your body automatically curling into yourself in response. But, while you were expecting 'Teddy' to come back with someone like them, dressed in clothing you found peculiar, you were greeted with Teddy and someone who made your eyebrows raise into your hair. A man, the same age, possibly even a little younger as you, stepped in, crown placed upon his head, a beaded item laying across his collarbones, keeping a cape swinging from his shoulders. You recognized him. He looked like... no, he couldn't be. Thankfully, he looked to be as taken back as you were, taking a second to look you up and down, his eyes were blown wide in shock. Teddy whispered something in his ear before leading the others out. Cautiously, he made his way over to you, offering a hand, similar to how Teddy had minutes ago. You gave him a reluctant look before placing your hand in his, allowing him to help you out of the sarcophagus and onto the stone floor. He placed a kiss on the back of your hand, shooting you a charming smile.

"My name is Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth king. And it is a pleasure to meet you." Ahkmenrah introduced, letting go of your hand, but keeping his eyes locked on you.

"Princess (Y/N), daughter of Chione. Rightful Queen to my kingdom." You stated, returning his smile, though yours was a lot more apprehensive. Ahkmenrah's eyebrows furrowed in confusion

"I...recognise that name." He remarked, tilting his head slightly.

"And I recognize you... I could've sworn I've seen you before." You murmured, trying to rack your memories. Or what you had left of them anyways. Everything was a little fuzzy still.

"Tell me, what's the last thing you remember?" He questioned, eyes scanning your features. You paused, taking a second to think.

"I... I remember it was the morning of my coronation. My cousin, Mohmoad, came to see me- brought me some wine. He toated me and I drank and then..."You trailed off, feeling yourself deflate.

"Then?" Ahkmenrah pushed gently.

"Pain. White hot pain. Like my throat was being torn apart. I couldn't breathe. I was terrified." Your head was pounding and your hands were shaking, though you weren't quite sure why.

"That- That will be how I know you. They called you the poisoned princess." He mumbled under his breath. There was a pregnant pause as you contemplated your next words.

"What happened after I passed?" The air seemed to grow slightly thick between you and Ahk cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Everyone thought you'd committed suicide. Your cousin, Mohmoad was crowned King a few months after your death, seeing as you didn't have any siblings or a husband. You were buried and the man you were arranged to marry was put with someone else. After a few years, people found out that you'd been murdered by Mohmoad and he was executed, on your mother's orders." Ahkmenrah was shifting as he explained, looking ...sad, almost.

"And how is it you know so much about me?"You attempted to lighten the situation, ignoring the odd sense of dread you felt.

"The, uh, nightguards son asked me for help on an ancient Egyptian assignment. He told me a bit about you."

"Nightguard? What exactly is that? Where are we?" You asked, glancing around the room, noticing the obviously fake walls and incorrect hieroglyphics every so often.

"Oh, right. Come with me, I'll explain everything."

Tags: (Tag list is open) @fromheretohelltoyou

#phoebe writes #rami malek #rami malek x reader #night at the museum #night at the museum x reader #ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah x reader #natm #natm x reader

[fr-ogii]

yandere

-> disclaimer :: these are not healthy relationships! i write about as soft as you can get but that doesn’t mean they’re okay.

bnha ::

bakusquad (separate) x reader headcanons

having s/o who has a force field quirk: ejiro kirishima + katsuki bakugo x reader

being harassed | izuku midoriya (deku) x reader

being attacked | tamaki amajiki x pregnant!afab!reader

cuddles | ejiro kirishima x shy!accepting!reader

jealousy & jet lag | shota aizawa + hizashi yamada x reader

a change of heart | katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

caught cooking | (ejiro kirishima + denki kaminari)

fighting for freedom | (erasermic) (bakudeku)

being jealous of your s/o (izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki + katsuki bakugo)

(fem!reader)second thoughts | (izuku midoriya + katsuki bakugo), part 2

beginning of a (poly) relationship | (class 1a)

safe in your arms | (ejiro kirishima) (accepting!bubbly!reader)

wishing they wouldn’t fight: (izuku midoriya + katsuki bakugo) (loving!reader)

izuku midoriya + katsuki bakugo x tsundere!gn!reader

periods | katsuki bakugo + izuku midoriya x afab!reader

mutual affections | izuku midoriya x fem!reader

flowered protector | ejiro kirishima + katsuki bakugo x gn!reader (inspired by “don’t starve”)

squid game ::

drifting away from sae-byeok x reader

being the darling of square guard + frontman x reader headcanons

salesman x reader

(NSFW)husband!salesman x afab!reader

frontman x sick!reader

jealous!frontman + jealous!square guard x reader

chronically ill | frontman + square guard x reader

star wars ::

the jealousy of.. darth vader x reader

the escape | darth vader x reader

miscellaneous ::

poly!damon + stefan salvatore x reader (tvd)

jealous poly! damon and stefan salvatore (tvd)

klaus mikaelson x reader (tvd)

poly!marauders x reader headcanons (harry potter)

full control | simp!klaus x reader (tvd)

count vronsky x reader (anna karenina)

ocs ::

gn!nerd x bully!reader

egyptian pharoah x reader

#yandere masterlist #bnha masterlist #mha masterlist #squid game masterlist #yandere x reader #masterlist

[guksthighs]

Treasure Hunter

Group: BTS

Pairing: JUNGKOOK X READER

Requested: honeycutelove said: So I wanted to request a Jungkook fic, because out of all the ones I read, I always loved coming to read your works especially your tattoo artist au! So can you do a Egyptian Jungkook ? I kinda said it on my page 😅 and it hasn’t left my mind since.

Summary: Jeongguk and Taehyung are just looking for a treasure but they find you instead; sentenced to be locked away for thousands of years due to a deal you made. 

Genre: angst, fluff, egypt au, treasure hunter au

Length: 3.4k

A/N: this was such a lovely request and it gave me a writing itch that was hella powerful. and now we have this hella long drabble but i hope you enjoy it!!

The darkness was an old friend, but although it felt like it was all you had ever known; there had been a time when the orange sun would greet you through the thin linen drapes of your room before the maids would bathe and dress you.

But you had sacrificed everything, all the riches and jewels to see your brother again, who had been poisoned leaving you his successor. Your brother who had raised your people with no guidance from your parents, killed by a mad man leaving you the unwilling Pharoah, and you refused to believe your decision was unwise.

The tears you had shed the following months to his death would have been enough to fill the Red Sea, and you often found yourself seeking solace in the paintings that lined the palace walls, colourful depictions of your brother’s life as he rose from the death of your parents to provide life and order to his people.

But one night there was something dark waiting for you, having been drawn by your grief. As the shadows moved, collecting in one corner of the room where a figure was formed and instantly you dropped to your knees for the God of death, Anubis.

“Young Pharaoh, your grief seems unable to cease and your leadership has been weakened,” his black ears twitched slightly as the wind whipped through the room, and you felt almost hypnotised by his liquid gold eyes that came more into view as he tilted his head slightly.

“My God, Anubis, he was taken too soon. I would do anything to see him again,” you fell to your knees, your hand trailing down the wall and the painted version of your brother’s smiling face, you knew you were playing with fire as he began to approach you, his feet silent against the stone floor.

“Anything?” His voice was low, and you could hear the threat in it but you still nodded fiercely watching as with an elegant action of his hand, he produced a long, old, black knife and held it out to you, “If you grasp this knife, you will see your brother again,” your hand lunged for it but he let out a deep chuckle before holding it up and out of your reach, “I will take your body as a payment.”

The torches all blew out, casting the room into darkness as he watched you with interest as you still reached for the knife, wincing as it cut your palm, instead of the usual blood that would bubble to the surface the injury turned pitch black and the surrounding veins carried the colour down but when you looked back up, your brother was standing in front of you with his arms spread and all thoughts of the mistake you may have made disappeared.

The torches relit and you could see the bright smile on his face as you stepped away to look at him, “I love you Y/N,” your eyes welled with tears as he pulled you into a hug, and you were surprised he still smelt like honey and sage as you rubbed your face into his shoulder. However, when he continued to talk you found yourself remembering him telling you stories before bed, “but you’ve made a mistake. Anubis will destroy our people, you must run,” his hands were on your shoulders as he dug his fingers in so tight you were forced to wince away, shaking your head in confusion.

But as he began to melt away into the shadows, you lunged forward to grab him, but your hands gripped onto thin air and you felt your eyes welling up with tears as you felt his absence even harder in your heart. But as a hand ran through your hair, you remembered the deal you had made; turning to face Anubis, who chuckled at your tear streaked face before running a finger over your cheeks, collecting the tears before licking his finger clean, “humans are so frail.”

Then your body was engulfed by the shadows as your veins seemed to fill with ice, and when you caught your reflection you suddenly realised maybe you hadn’t made the wisest decision as liquid gold eyes stared back at you.

The feeling of losing control scared you, you could feel him under your skin trying to take over and without thinking you let out a scream as you threw yourself against the wall trying to get him to leave, but the hollow laugh in your head had you clawing at your skin to rid yourself of the invasion. The clink of gold as it fell to the floor along with your screams and grunts alerted the guards to your struggle, the rushed in to find you on all fours surrounded by torn clothing and jewellery.

“Get the priest,” the rest of the guards focused on holding you as they dragged your kicking figure towards your chambers, but as you slid away you felt yourself losing the fight and you began to worry what Anubis would do if he got control of your people.

The priest rushed into your chamber, halting when he saw you secured to a chair, and when your head snapped up to look at him,  he backed away before glancing towards the other people of authority in the room waiting to hear if you were okay, “She is dead, however as Anubis resides in her body we cannot proceed with a proper burial, we must deal with this swiftly.”

You heard his words as if you were underwater, like when you dunked your head in the bath and you knew you had lost control as you felt yourself being carried somewhere, and then darkness.

***

“My Egyptian isn’t as rusty as you think it is Tae, stop translating everything for me like I’m a kid or an amateur,” Jeongguk pushed his hair out of his face before securing it with his red headband, whilst desperately trying not to fall off the camel that was swaying relentlessly.

“Someone asked you what your name was and you said ‘yes, I’m a treasure hunter’,” Taehyung laughed as Jeongguk let out a loud exhale, he hadn’t been to Egypt for a long time having had a tip about an old shipwreck and after discovering the riches, he had basked in the sun of wherever he wanted for almost a year, not having to crawl into small spaces or learn new languages.

But Taehyung was an old friend, and he couldn’t say no when his friend had mentioned a treasure more valuable than those usually found in the ancient, at , crumbling pyramids. But as the sweltering heat made sweat roll down his temple, he tried not to think of the penthouse in Dubai that he had stayed at, the one with the infinity pool and a view that would never be beaten, overlooking shiny buildings and a bit further the cerulean coloured sea.

Now his horizon showed him a very different picture; in the distance loomed the pyramids and Jeongguk felt like he was hallucinating due to dehydration as he looked at the architectural brilliance, almost five thousand years old. The pyramid they were heading to, the locals described as haunted, a promising start if there ever was one Jeongguk thought to himself.

The hieroglyphics surrounding the entrance apparently promised a fate worse than death to those who entered, but that wasn’t unusual as he remembered the first pyramid he had entered with Taehyung, almost ten years ago promising that they would encounter endless bad luck, instead they had found riches beyond their comprehension. Jeongguk reached for the gold knife that was secured in its sheath around his waist ever since Taehyung had found it abandoned in a pyramid and given it to him as a present, the knife that always reminded him of his past and to stay true to who he was.

The pyramids became larger as they got closer, Jeongguk’s camel was becoming increasingly uncomfortable as his knees rubbed against the tough fabric atop the hump, Jeongguk had always hated camels. So when they finally reached the pyramid, he didn’t wait for the guides to help him off; deciding instead, to hurl his body off the camel and into soft sand, to the amusement of Taehyung as Jeongguk scrambled to avoid being trampled.

“Amateur,” Taehyung coughed, and Jeongguk turned to his friend with a smirk about to throw a handful of sand in his face, before the elder pulled out his journal. Jeongguk decided to forgive him this once as he followed Taehyung to sit in the shade provided by the looming pyramid. Taehyung had decided it was a good time to discuss the plan, but Jeongguk wasn’t one for plans as he ran his fingers through the grains of sand, before standing to trace the engravings surrounding the entrance in interest, “are you even listening?” Taehyung growled, before standing and slamming his book shut, reaching into his back to grab a lighter and his torch.

“I prefer raid first, plan later,” Jeongguk replied, pulling his lighter from his pocket and following Taehyung inside hoping there would be an old torch he would get to light, because those always made the experience way more fun. With a smile, Taehyung picked up one from the wall and handed it to Jeongguk, before lighting his own as they both turned to look at each other with large smiles of excitement.

But a large gust of wind ripped through the entrance, howling as it travelled down the corridor and Taehyung shared a confused look with Jeongguk, usually the wind would be completely silent due to objects and treasures absorbing the brunt of the force, but it seemed maybe this place had already been ransacked; but that didn’t stop them from tentatively continuing to walk down, Jeongguk jokingly brushed his hand against TAehyung who leapt into the air, “you scared TaeTae?”

Taehyung scoffed, as he glanced down at the usual structure of the pyramids in the area continuing to walk forward, “No but I bet you are, little Gukkie.” If there was any nickname that would piss Jeongguk off this much, Taehyung had stumbled upon it a few years ago and was relentless in his use of it.

Their pace sped up as the sandy walls of the corridor seemed unending, and they both noticed the lack of decorations on the wall and how new all of the stones looked, compared to the worn down passages they were used to travelling from years of locals and explorers, in general, there was something off and Jeongguk didn’t like it as the hair on his arms raised.

“Guk, can you see that?” Taehyung nudged him before signalling to the end of the corridor where the dark shadows had collected unnaturally as if something was blocking the light. As they approached, tiptoeing although they knew it was stupid, quickly they realised it was the solid gold coffin that had been creating the shadow, and Jeongguk dropped his torch in surprise as it glittered in the light.

Although the local’s belief had been correct, the boys were still on edge as the journey had been too straight forward, and there had been no jewels, clothing or even boxes of decayed food leading up to the coffin. This would have been normal for any death, but the coffin was made of solid gold meant the corpse was a Pharaoh and therefore to be without any treasures, something was definitely wrong.

Taehyung circled the coffin slowly, inspecting the unscratched gold with a wide smile, but Jeongguk was more intrigued at what was inside as he reached into his bag for his crowbar, and slotting it between the openings in the coffin he applied enough pressure making it pop open, “You fucking idiot!” Taehyung screeched but the words didn’t reach Jeongguk’s ears as he was too busy inspecting what looked like black liquid leaking out of the coffin in interest.

But soon the leak, had caused the coffin lid to fall on the floor with a heavy clatter before a swarm of what looked like shadows emerged from the coffin as the boys stumbled back, Taehyung reaching for Jeongguk who had taken the brunt of the attack and when it finally cleared up, Jeongguk felt a weight on his chest, opening his eyes to see a girl sitting on his stomach, liquid gold eyes clearing up as she stared at him in shock before collapsing onto him with a gasp.

***

“What the fuck are we meant to do?” You watched the boys pace back and forth, and noticed that had been a phrase repeated ever since they had found you. When you had landed on Jeongguk’s chest and revealed you were, in fact, a Pharaoh of Egypt, was the first time you had heard the phrase. It had been repeated multiple times, as they lifted you onto the back of the camel and taken you to their camp.

You knew they were not speaking Egyptian anymore, yet your understanding of what they were saying was perfect, and you realised all the time locked up with Anubis had given you the power of language.

They had repeated that phrase again when you squirmed out of Jeongguk’s arms to run to the exit, before collapsing on the warm sand, tears streaming down your face as you looked at the sun that you thought you would never see again. The warmth that beat down on your skin and the soft scratch from the sand that had you digging your hands into it and enjoying the feeling and sight of anything other than darkness.

That was probably when they believed you were delusional, Taehyung, the boy with the sandy hair and kind eyes had given you water and insisted that you travel back with them so they could find your family. They had decided that you had been locked up by someone as a practical joke, but you knew who you were and why you had been locked away; punishment.

When you had insisted on sitting on Jeongguk’s camel, Taehyung had laughed when he had begun to complain, before he smiled at you and sent a glare to Jeongguk whilst helping you up, “Guk, people who are saved form a connection with their saviour. You saved her, therefore, she’s your problem now,”

You had frowned, “I am a problem?” The boys had looked at you in surprise when you had spoken, astounded that you had understood what they were saying as before Taehyung had translated you claiming you were a Pharoah.

But Jeongguk had enjoyed your company, you could tell by his blush and a small smile as he followed the group, and you wondered why he felt so familiar to you, why when your arms wrapped around his waist to hold on, you slotted perfectly in with his body.

When the boys had finally stopped complaining about their situation, you stopped looking back at your past day, looking up at Jeongguk who was holding something black and shiny in his hand and staring at it intently, “What is that in your hand?” Jeongguk glanced down at you in surprise.

“It’s a phone,” you raised an eyebrow as you tilted your head to look at it better, before he bent down to show you it. You had never seen anything so amazing, grabbing it from his hands as you mimicked what he had done, tapping on the screen and watching the picture change in amusement,

“I like this,” he smiled at your almost childish side before brushing the sand off of his shirt, making you glance at it in interest, “your style is awful, why do you cover your chest and why do you wear sleepwear on your legs?”

Jeongguk laughed, looking down at his trousers and trying to absorb what you had said as you sat opposite him wearing a borrowed white dress from one of the women staying at the camp, “It is bad manners to walk around without a top now,” you nodded in understanding.

Taehyung assumed you had suffered a concussion of sorts and had decided you were a Pharaoh, but Jeongguk agreed only to stop himself from being teased. But he believed you were telling the truth, you had told him about your life whilst sitting behind him on the camel, and there was something regal about you and for some reason, he felt like he knew you, that you would never lie to him.

“Jeongguk, get in here and help me file this necklace,” Taehyung shouted from inside a tent and as jeongguk leapt u, you followed him in interest to see the necklace. The tent was dimly lit and as you looked around for Taehyung, you noticed a very familiar object on the table, your necklace. Without a word, you walked over to it, picking it up in your hands as you felt your eyes begin to water at the remembrance that you had outlived everyone you had ever known and loved, your fingers traced the back of the sun shape and with a click, it unlocked to reveal a small portrait of your brother.

“Y/N?” Jeongguk’s hand landed on your shoulder, as he turned you slightly so he could see your expression, confused that you knew how to unlock it before realising it was yours, “Taehyung, I think the necklace is Y/N’s.” Taehyung grunted in acknowledgement, and you realised he didn’t believe you before you ran out of the tent, necklace clutched in your hand.

Jeongguk found you sitting in the sand, watching the sunset streak the sky with colours of orange and pink as you stroked the necklace lightly, he set the glass of water next to you, before sitting across from you and waiting for you to talk; which you did, “I have no place here anymore, no brother, no people to lead, no purpose. Thank you for releasing me from that hell, but I think it is time for me to join my people.”

You finally looked down from the sky, meeting Jeongguk’s eyes and as he tilted his head with a smile, you suddenly realised why you felt a connection to him, he looked exactly like your old fiance. jeongguk noticed your smile and shifted so he was sitting next to you, as he admired the view, you let yourself lean your head on his shoulder.

Jeongguk felt a sense of content, as he stroked your hair slowly, happy to see you relaxed and smiling instead of feeling out of place and as you looked up locking eyes with him, you felt drawn to his chocolate eyes, leaning forward until with a shout Taehyung interrupted the moment.

“Holy shit! I’ve made a huge discovery,” Taehyung shouted, he was holding his phone and as he came to a halt in front of you both, he stuck the device in your faces and you realised it was art form the palace walls, depicting your marriage to your fiance, that looked exactly like Jeongguk, “Guk, tell me that doesn’t look like you and the girl like Y/N! What does it mean Y/N? Are you married?”

You shook your head, thinking of the life you had left behind was still painful to you when you felt like only days had passed, when really it had been thousands of years, but you still wanted to explain. “It was foretelling the future of my marriage, I never was married and yes Jeongguk is the spitting image of my fiance.”

Jeongguk looked down at your interlinked hands, before pulling them into his lap and looking into your eyes, “Do you think I’m a reincarnation of your fiance?” Jeongguk had always believed in myths and it wasn’t too much for him to believe that destines soulmates would find each other in their next lives, so when you pursed your lips and nodded slowly, his heart began to beat in excitement.

Without thinking, he leant forward and pressed a swift kiss to your lips, before pulling you into a bone crushing hug, “I have always felt incomplete, but right here with you in my arms. I finally feel like I have found my missing piece, and I loved you even before I knew who I was to you.”

You smiled at him, before leaning back into a kiss, laughing as he complained about the sand that was all over your cheeks, but he still kissed them before kissing you on the lips in a kiss that had you seeing stars, and finally freeing you from the shackles the shadows had once controlled.

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