Just a pixel art bust set of the MK System cause Iâm on a pixel art bender I canât lie. Was gonna do more animation practice too but I got lazy I got school bruh đ
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Happy December, one and all! Iâm so excited to participate in this prompt list for the first time over on IG! Any excuse for Moon boys Iâm there! Thank you to the lovely host that put this together, I cannot wait to see everyoneâs work!
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god i love this cover so much, it isnt all that complex in terms of composition and there is very little happening but it does such a good job showcasing how different alters from the MK system behave, Mr. Knight laying down in this casual yet serious pose that shows hes still in business mode, Steven rubbing his head like he's listening and cares but also is unsure how to reply, Jake just casually sitting down while patiently listening, Moon Knight standing there with his hands on his hips looking annoyed like he would prefer to have been using that time to go and patrol on the streets and Marc on the corner crying while holding a gun?? pretty funny but i do also kinda love how hard that is leaning in on his early self pitying characterization from Doug Moench where he just couldn't stop hiding and trying to run from his mercenary past while never truly being able to
(also i know this run moved on from the reading you could have of the 2014 run where Mr. Knight is a fourth alter and MK himself hasn't really been an alter since Doug Moench days but a man can dream)
what would platonic moon knight look like with a reader that wanted to learn spanish/is struggling in a spanish class?
CuĂŠntame MĂĄs
PLATONIC Moon Knight System (Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley) x Reader
Minors, do not interact
Authorâs Note: That is so real. I never learned when I came to the states as a baby and teaching myself is just a drag with my dyslexia. (This fic feels a bit crunchy, I haven't written for MK in a thousand years.) I feel like Marc would also help out considerably with any language learning; if I remember correctly, he's a polyglot.
Description: On top of you overwhelming responsibilities, teaching yourself Spanish seems like a futile endeavor, especially as it all comes to a frustrating head.
Word Count: 1,242
Warnings: N/A
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Translate this sentence: If heâs working at the restaurant, he wonât be able to come to the concert at nine.
 Glaring at your laptop screen, you could feel a cluster headache starting to form, its presence looming at the base of your neck.Â
 Who cares if he is at the restaurant? Who cares if he isnât able to come to the concert at nine! Who the hell is he anyways??
Gods above and below, you could hardly stomach another conjugation exercise. If the stats bar was any indication of your language proficiency and process, you were sitting at an unsightly 54%.
It wasnât a matter of motivation. More than any other learning endeavor, you wished to be proficient, dare you say, fluent in Spanish. Many of your friends conversed in a lively flow of innate Spanish that had always eluded your comprehension. Their cadence was so swift, the various dialects colored by distinct intricacies that had you searching for meaning that tended to come too late if at all.Â
Jake, Steven and Marc had all offered their own expertise. Active learning in the throes of conversation would offer a fuller sense of language immersion, but you could only imagine yourself stumbling your way through even the most basic verb conjugations and sentences. Just imagining your own humiliation had you waving away their offer.Â
With the last vestiges of your patience, you typed your answer into the text box before pressing enter on your keyboard. As if mocking you loudly and with short fanfare, the language app emitted a sharp buzz before highlighting your answer in red. Your answer was unequivocally wrong except for a few nouns, bringing your accuracy percentage down to 51%.Â
âFuck!âÂ
In a burst of anger, you brought your fists down on your laptop keyboard with enough force to make the goldfish tank tremble nearby.Â
âOkay. Thatâs enough. Youâre done for today.â
Having heard your outburst from the living room, Marc made his way hastily to your side before closing your battered laptop and tucking it under his left arm.Â
âWhat the hell is going on with you, kid? Thatâs like the third time this week.â
In short, the three of them were not around as often as any of you would have liked. Their fates were intertwined with something within the dire straights of the divine. And while you loved your fathers with a ferocity, when you had first asked them about their work that kept them so far so often, Jake had been the one to tell you not to press and you had listened. Nevertheless, such distance meant they were not privy to the temper you had inherited.
âItâs fine. It's fine. Iâm just frustrated.â You muttered with your face pressed against your palms.Â
Marc, could recognize himself in the way you immediately bottled your anger when he entered the kitchen. He could see himself in the way you would monitor him sidelong, calculating when he would leave you to your anger in peace.Â
âYeah. âFineâ. Youâre not fine. Come on, holding it in wonât do you any good.â
A torrent of beginnings, placations, words of affirmation wormed their way to the tip of Marcâs tongue only for Steven to find it in your best interest to take a more balanced approach.Â
That near-permanent purl of tension between their brows eased. With a light breath, you could recognise Stevenâs presence and the impending lecture that would follow.Â
âIâm sorry for losing control like that,â you started, looking down at the kitchen table, âI donât mean toââ
âYeah, we know you donât mean to and weâre not angry.â Steven released a measured sigh before gently patting your hand. A touch awkward, but you could appreciate the sentiment. âI think weâre just worried, and Iâm worried about whatâŚ.that means. Youâve been awfully tense lately.â
âThe losing control part?â
Steven nodded.Â
âGreat.â
The threshold of your control had been waning for days now. Language learning aside, you found yourself thoroughly irritated with the world on a near-molecular level. Coursework, your health, your job, obnoxious co-workers, the neighbors that always pestered you with questions about your fathersâŚ
Such worldly stressors frayed your patience to the point of hypersensitivity. The very texture of your clothes, the brush of your own hair against your face was enough to raise your blood pressure, if only for a moment.Â
âIâm fine, really.â Sparing a glance in Stevenâs direction, his eyes, almost perpetually pleading, made your throat clench. âEverything is justâŚoverwhelming. And learning Spanish isnât exactly helping.â
âSpanish?â Incredulous, Steven leaned forward as if to ensure he was hearing correctly. âBut youâve always been a brilliant student.â
âBrilliantâ felt delusional and rather generous.Â
Before you could respond dryly, you watched Steven tense before relaxing once again.
âWhat do you mean youâre âstrugglingâ with Spanish??â
You could have laughed at the dire expression Jake bore that bordered on exaggeration. The very notion that his kid was struggling with Spanish seemed too much for the man.Â
âYou never told us you were struggling with Spanish? How long have you been struggling? What doesnât make sense? Why didnât you say something sooner? Have you been watching the videos I send you?â
âPapĂĄ!â Cutting him off with a strained smile, you could tell he had on deck another twenty or so questions to bombard you with. âItâs not life or death, Iâm just struggling! Thatâs it. Iâm overwhelmed withâŚeverything.â You confessed with a placatory gesture of your hand.â But I can handle it. Teaching myself this stuff isnât all it's cracked up to be.â
âJesucristoâŚâ
Open streams of communication were something the entirety of the family lacked, but seeing it within you had Marc, Steven and Jake wondering what other qualities of theirs you might have harbored.Â
âThereâs no reason for you to be doing this all by yourself.â When in pensive thought, Jake often brushed his thumb across the trimmed length of his mustache, but now he found himself without that creature comfort. âYou know you donât have to do this all on your own, no?â
At the gentled inflection in his voice, you ceased making eye contact and very rapidly found the floor to be much more interesting than the conversation at hand.Â
âNope. None of that. You donât have to look me in the eyes but you better be listening to me.â Jake straightened his posture, unwilling to let the conversation go. âIf youâre feeling overwhelmed, let us help. I can help you with the Spanish and the others can help around the apartment. I know we leave you in the lurch but it's becauseâŚwell, maybe thereâs no good reason for it, but if you need us, weâll be there for you. Okay?â
When you failed to answer them Jake leaned closer. âOkay?? I know weâre not parents of the year material, but at least let us help if we can.â
âYeah, okay, okay, PapĂĄâŚâÂ
Finally, you acquiesced.Â
With Jakeâs help youâd be more casually conversational in a matter of weeks.Â
The very idea of Jake as a teacher did bring to mind a rather amusing image given his penchant for nonconformity, but perhaps that would work in both your favors.Â
âDonât give me that look.â Cracking half a smile, Jake was merely bringing back a sense of levity. âIâll make a fantastic teacher.â
As he pulled you in for an all consuming hug, you could only feign a half-hearted grumble. âWhatever you say, PapĂĄ.â