#parental khonshu

[therealraewest]

Jumping feet first into Moon Knight comics and I still have a lot of ground to cover but the difference between this in the 2014 run

Of Marc calling on Khonshu for a favor and him immediately complying vs the 2021 run

Calling out multiple times, with the same verbiage, but Khonshu only responding when he gets what he wants out of Marc (recognizing Khonshu as father) is just ugh

[ghostly-wisteria-tea]

Joke/Crack Headcannon

One of the reason MCU Khonshu refuses to officially address 616 Marc or 616 Badr as "sons", is because by the Traditional Ennead law of his universe, he will have to pay what is essentially child support covering their entire lives, allowance, medical/hospital bills, living conditions and funeral.

He calls himself their boss, never father simply to avoid the taxes. Because even a god can't avoid taxes, the Egyptian pantheon is bureaucratic like that.

MCU Khonshu is also broke to the bone AND has a gambling addiction, as well as impulsive buying on food. He can barely pay to take care of himself, keeps getting gigs just to buy food and would occasionally eat from the dumpster. He can't afford to take care of 2 fully grown adults he ended up "inheriting" from his 616 counterparts.

MCU Khonshu also recognizes Steven and Jake as separate people and a package deal with Marc. So, for him, it would be 4 fully grown adults. 3 of which share a body. Steven and Jake have their own lives, so they are to be paid equally with Marc.

I did my research and in a general term, one kid will have to be paid 400 USD a month. So, with 4 "kids" that would be 1,600 USD a month. With interest due to how overdo it is, and the missing birthday gifts for all of them.

[little-cereal-draws]

Ok I already gave Taweret a son here and here but he needed a friend so here's Khonshu's kid! His name is... um... Bhonshu (which is short for Baby Khonshu) and he doesn't speak or eat! He just follows his friend and dad around making little cheeps. The lollipop is just for holding.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Small Surprises

Moon Knight System (Marc/Jake/Steven) x Single Mother!Reader

TW/CW: Some mentions of past childhood abuse, cheating partner, mostly fluff

A/N: Like the Symbrock one I did, this one will be one whole fic with a few times skips here and there! This fic will also explore a bit more into the autistic side of Steven as a character, based off my own experiences with my autism, tics, habits etc! Also, once again, featuring snippets of the hobby headcanons done by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction! (I love those headcanons so much they are canon as far as I'm concerned asdfghjkl)

Taglist: @chrishy973 @katitakenway @queerponcho

EDIT: Part 2 is out now!!! Read it here!

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Another droll day at the museum, the same disinterested customers and more nagging from Donna. Honestly, Steven was lucky he got his job back at the museum--though he only surmised it was due to the fact nobody else wanted to work for Donna--but he was grateful for the extra income.

And it definitely helped provide a distraction from Jake's night activities for Khonshu, as well as Marc's from time to time.

But of course, even though it provided a distraction, it wasn't much of one.

That is... until the day a poofy mop of curls bounced into the gift shop, eagerly looking at the wares within with big sparkling eyes. The child couldn't have been older than four--maybe five--as she happily looked at the myriad of items available.

Contrasting to most of the little girls he's seen come in (which, were admittedly few) she didn't immediately run over to the cheap horse figures with the chariots or even the cat plushies.

She went right for things like the plushie scarabs, the statues...

This of course had Donna proverbially chewing her nails as she watched the unaccompanied minor scamper about the gift shop.

"I'm going back to do inventory," She warned Steven. "If she breaks anything, it's coming out of your pay, Stevie."

Steven ground his teeth when she called him that, and waited for her to walk away before muttering. "What little you do pay me, you bloody old biddy."

Steven fixed his name tag and walked up to the little girl, crouching next to her as her chubby little face scrunched in what appeared to be distaste.

"Hey there, poppet. What's got you upset, eh?" He asked, his big brown eyes meeting hers as she crossed her arms with a huff.

"They don't look right!" She complained.

"Oh? What doesn't look right?" Steven asked patiently, a warm smile on his face.

The child pointed to the small canvases and posters of the various Egyptian gods. Namely the ones of Bastet and Anubis, and in particular of the two, one of the canvases depicting Anubis surrounded by shrieking souls and flames.

He himself had raised a complaint with that depiction, as after his own time in the Egyptian afterlife (alongside Marc, and unbeknownst to them at the time, Jake) he knew the afterlife was not like that. While they hadn't met Anubis himself, they were guided and weighed by Taweret.

But he wholeheartedly agreed that the artwork of Anubis was entirely wrong, and frankly, offensive.

"'Nubis isn't like that." She said, stomping her little foot. "He's nice!"

Steven raised his eyebrows at her, tilting his head as some stray curls fell over his face. "Oh?" He asked. "Then tell me little one, how is Anubis?"

"He's--!" She scoffed, rolling her eyes in the typical fashion a child does when they feel like they're explaining something painfully obvious to an oblivious adult.

"He's a good dog-man." She says to him. "He doesn't mess with skulls n' stuffs! He's nice, he helps people who might get lost when they die."

'That's a hefty subject for a kid.' Marc's voice spoke.

"No kidding." Jake remarked. "Where are her parents?"

Steven meanwhile, was positively thrilled that one so young understood that Anubis, while being the god of death, was not evil. And... naturally this sent him into info-dump mode.

"Why, yes! Anubis is good." He held up a finger as the little girl looked at him, awe on her face that he understood what she was saying and was willing to actually talk about it.

"He guided souls once they left their earthly bodies." He explained, grabbing a small replica of an Egyptian temple front. "Once their hearts were weighed, if they were good, he would help guide them to the afterlife. If they were bad..."

"They got ate by the crocko-lion!" The girl finished with a gasp.

Steven suppressed the urge to laugh at how she described Ammit. Jake and Marc meanwhile, held no such compunction and were laughing their asses off.

"I like this kid." Jake said as his laughter died down.

"Yes! They did. But did you know they also had to be judged? Not just with the scales?" Steven grinned at her as she bounced on her heels, the palms of her hands rubbing on her coveralls as she listened.

"Now that subject is very lengthy...." Steven leaned over on the flats of his shoes and plucked a small book about the Egyptian afterlife and mythos and showed it to the little girl. The cover was emblazoned with raised gold print; with images of sarcophagi, and motifs scattered on the front and back.

"But it's always worth a good read." Steven continued. "Now, if you want to know someone else who sometimes assists those who've passed on?"

The little girl plucked the book out of Steven's arms, nodding, her eyes tracking the way his mouth and hair moved. Not once did she make eye contact, instead settling for staring at other features instead.

Steven could understand, sometimes looking into people's eyes was... oof. It was difficult and frankly sometimes it made him uncomfortable, made his palms itch and the hair on the back of his neck tickle.

He stood up, and walked to another shelf, the little girl trailing behind him, the book looking three sizes too large for her tiny body as her little light up sneakers squeaked on the waxed linoleum.

Steven reached down, then, and grabbed a plaster statuette of a familiar feminine shape sporting a hippo head and kneeled back down, showing it to her.

"This is Taweret." He beamed proudly.

"She's the nice hippo lady." The child peeped, staring at the statue with rapt attention.

"Yes! Yes, she is! Very nice." Steven chuckled. "But she's also the goddess of motherhood and children, did you know? She protects women when they have their babies, and helps them."

The little girl nodded, "Yeah, I read a thingy 'bout her! She's--"

"Victoria! Oh my god." A breathless voice called from the front of the shop.

The moment Steven lifted his gaze, he could feel his heart catch on his throat when he saw you. Even Marc and Jake went quiet as you approached.

You were wearing some faded-out jeans and a t-shirt with a faded band logo that hugged your figure very nicely. You had a backpack slung over your shoulders and the keychains dangling from it tinkled and clacked as you moved, rushing to scoop up your child.

Steven could easily see that Victoria got her looks from you, those gorgeous inquisitive eyes, her nose, hair texture...

Jake had to give him the mental equivalent of a slap to stop his gawking as he stood up awkwardly, wiping the hand not holding the statue on his jeans as he gave you what he hoped was a charming smile, but judging by your wariness, you obviously weren't thrilled at the sight of your daughter talking to a strange man.

Steven was about to speak up, but Victoria did so instead for him, not reading the tenseness in the situation.

"Steven's my friend!" She beamed, holding the book in her pudgy little fingers, showing you. "He knows about 'Gyptian stuff, too!"

Steven blinked, feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks as you looked at him, raised eyebrows. It took him a moment of awkward glancing away to realize Victoria knew his name because she read his name tag. He hadn't once said it to her. Hell, he only knew her name because you said it when you ran in!

"Ah... Yes. I work here, in the gift shop. Egyptology is a major... um." He struggled to find a word.

"Hyperfixation?" You sigh, the tension easing from your shoulders as you smile tiredly.

"Oh! Yes. I s'pose!" He said, blinking his big doe eyes at you.

"Yeah, Victoria is... well." You chuckle, propping the young child on your hip with practiced ease. "She's obsessed with the stuff! I swear, the stuff she can shove into her noggin with how much she knows of ancient Egypt, it feels like she was born in the wrong era, I'm telling you!"

Victoria smiled happily and snuggled into you, rubbing her cheek on the soft fabric of your shirt with a content hum, almost like a happy little cat.

You didn't pay any mind to her as she rubbed her face on you, instead conversing with the man in front of you.

"Ah... A little scholar to be, eh?" Steven laughed awkwardly.

"Hah, more like she already is one. With everything she knows, I swear she outpaces me in the IQ department." You sigh fondly, brushing a stray curl from your daughter's face.

Steven's eyes anxiously tracked your movements, how your fingers curled, the way your eyelashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked, the way your foot tapped on the floor...

"I'm surprised she talked to you. She's normally very introverted." You hum softly, raising those drop dead gorgeous eyes to lock with his before he awkwardly dropped his eyes to your lips whilst you spoke.

"But then again, if you started talking about this stuff with her, it's no surprise. I'm the only person she talks to about it because nobody else understands."

You noticed his Steven was looking anywhere but your eyes, and how he nervously licked at his lips, his fingers wrapped around the statuette in his hands tapping idly.

"Oh! She's a lovely little conversationalist. Rather well-knowledged as well!" Steven replied, looking at Victoria again, who grinned as she once again rubbed her face on your shirt.

"Honestly, she's more learned than half the adults who try to talk to me about Egypt." He huffed out a chuckle.

His eyes dropped to the picture of Anubis that initially offended the child. "We got into a little debate about how inaccurate those pieces of Anubis are."

"Oh, don't get her started on those inaccurate artworks... She despises them!" You laugh softly.

"Oh, I fully understand why! It's so offensive!" Steven gasped. "Especially to a culture! Anubis is not an evil god by any means!"

"Oh yeah, believe me... we watched a movie the other day and she had a meltdown because they made Anubis the bad guy. She was so distraught it took thirty minutes to calm her down." You smile with infinite patience at your little girl.

"Oh, poor little dear! But I can totally understand that." Steven smiled, finally locking eyes with you as he reached some level of professional comfort with you.

"Mommy, can I get em?" Victoria peeped, interrupting you before you could get another word out.

"Hm?" You hummed at her, raising an eyebrow.

"The book and hippo lady!" She replied, holding up the book.

"Hippo Lady?"

"Yeah!" She said, sounding a little exasperated, pointing to the statue Steven clutched in his hands. "Her! Tawar!"

"Taweret." Steven chuckled softly at her mispronunciation.

"Tawww--" Victoria frowned as she tried to get the word out. "Tawweret."

"Close 'nough. I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Steven smiled warmly, holding up the statuette.

"All right, all right." You laughed, following Steven to the counter so you could check out, having another nice chat about what he and Victoria discussed. He even tossed in a little keychain that held a preserved scarab beetle in epoxy, much to Victoria's delight!

What you didn't know as you left the shop, was how positively smitten he was with you already.

That was your first meeting with Steven Grant.

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A few weeks crawled by, and every other day you were at the museum, letting Victoria lead you by the hand as she animatedly discussed what every object or picture meant, and you struggled to keep up, making mental (and a few digital) notes on what she was talking about. Of course, she insisted that after every tour, you stopped to say hi to her new "bestest friend" Steven.

You were thrilled that you found someone who operated on the same wavelength as your daughter, knowing that it was hard for her to make connections with other children, let alone adults. But Steven and Victoria took to each other like ducks to water.

And hey, he seemed harmless enough. Cute, too, beneath that mop of curls. You even started researching more just to be able to tag into the conversations between your daughter and her unlikely friend.

Today, you were at the local grocer and Victoria decided that she wanted to walk with you instead of riding in the trolley on her tablet like she normally did. You were happy, but ensured she kept her noise cancelling headphones over her tiny ears to make sure she stayed comfortable.

You had picked up a pack of steaks to examine the cuts when Victoria slipped your hand free of hers and darted off, squealing, "Steven!"

You almost dropped the steaks when Victoria darted down the aisle and wrapped her arms around the legs of the man she ran towards.

One minute Marc was looking at a box of matzahs, the next, he had a child clinging to his legs.

His whole body froze as he looked down, immediately going rigid as the little girl looked up at him, babbling something he didn't quite understand because of how quickly she was speaking.

He did make out the name "Steven".

"Uh--" He said awkwardly.

"I'm so sorry!" You say, hastily bringing the trolley up to the two. "She just got excited to see you, and..."

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him. He looked like Steven Grant, but he didn't feel like Steven Grant. His normally messy curls were combed back neatly, his flannel hanging open with the sleeves rolled up and T-shirt untucked from his pants. His big brown eyes were wide, looking at you with a face that simply pleaded "Help me".

"Uh..."

"I'm... Marc." He said in an unmistakably American accent.

"Oh. Oh!" You lean down and scoop up Victoria, hastily plopping her in the trolley, willing yourself to ignore her little wobbling lip as you messily search up her favorite video to watch on her tablet to prevent the simmering meltdown you could see just beneath her surface.

"I'm... I'm sorry. You just look like someone we know from the museum, and..." You sigh, rubbing your hands together as you cringed.

"Steven, yeah..." Marc said, giving a stiff smile in return as he dropped the box of what looked like crackers into his basket looped over his elbow.

"You..."

'Play it cool, Marc...' Jake's voice softly warned.

"We're, uh, brothers. Triplets. All identical." He spat out with haste.

"Oh! Well... That's... That explains the looks, huh." You smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension. His explanation didn't sit well with you for some reason, as to why he suddenly blurted it all out. But you chocked it up to him trying to explain to avoid upsetting Victoria.

"But, yeah. Um... Your brother, Steven? He and Victoria are like, best friends now. She looks forward to seeing him whenever we're at the museum." You chuckle softly.

Marc's eyes soften as he smiles, giving Victoria a gentle look. "Yeah, uh, Steven's told me about her. She's a smart kid, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. A real genius." You smile at her as she starts tapping away at her tablet, selecting one of her drawing apps and beginning to scribble.

"Sometimes I can't keep up with her."

"Hey, that's good. She'll go places." Marc replied.

Your smile falters a bit. "Yeah, if people will give her a chance..." You mutter.

Marc was about to ask what she meant, but he kept his mouth shut, watching as Victoria was engrossed with her tablet, her little feet wiggling and tapping on the sides of the trolley as she moved her mouth silently, mouthing words to herself.

"She's... Eh." You rub the back of your neck. "She normally doesn't come to the store with me. She says she can hear the lights buzzing and it upsets her, which is why she has to wear her headphones. I mean I can't hear the lights or anything, but all I need to know is that she can..."

"Yeah, Steven is the same way sometimes. It makes him twitch so he has to wear headphones when we go shopping..." Marc said, frowning.

"Yeah. That's something I'm kind of amazed about. Victoria doesn't really have any friends outside of well, me... and your brother? Steven and her are just... man, they're like two peas in a pod!"

Marc stays quiet as you smile fondly at your child, and he notes the relief in your expression as you recount that your child was able to finally connect with someone. It warmed his heart to know that Steven was able to socialize with someone who shared the same mannerisms, even if she was just a kid.

His eyes flicked down to your hands as you put your hands on your hips, and noted the lack of wedding ring and a ring tan line.

'Focus, cabrón.' Jake snickered.

"She's autistic. It was a pain to get her diagnosed, but we managed. I could tell she was different. Namely how she would act with fabrics." You sigh.

Now that grabbed both Marc and Jake's attention. If Steven were aware and co-fronting, he was sure he would be rapt as well. Steven explained the fabric thing to hime a few times, but being in the same body it was still hard at times to understand that Marc or Jake could feel one thing but Steven could feel another.

"Uh... Fabrics? You'll have to forgive me, but..."

"Oh! It's a sensory thing." You explain, rolling your hand. "With her, it's fleece, or satin-like textures. They irritate her and make her fussy. As a baby I never understood why she flipped out when I would put her little socks on her until the doctor explained it when she was older. But for some people it's cotton, or microfiber... The way Victoria describes it is that it's, uh..."

"Scratchy." Marc murmurs.

"Exactly!" You snap your fingers.

"Yeah, Steven is the same way. Though he's not like that with satin, he usually prefers cotton--the super soft kind? Or silk." Marc nods, shoving one hand in his pocket.

"Yeah... It's thankfully easy to shop for her, she prefers cotton and soft microfiber. It's why she rubs her cheek on my shirts or pants. Some people mistake it for being affectionate--and don't get me wrong sometimes it is--but usually it's a grounding thing." You sigh softly. "It helps her calm down."

"Ah... Sounds hard. What about her dad? He know how to handle it?" Marc asked curiously.

He immediately felt bad when he saw how your expression fell, and you glared at the ground.

"He skipped out on us while I was pregnant. I caught him in our bed with someone I thought was my best friend the day I found out she was a girl." You spit, angry and full of venom.

Marc cringed. "God, your best friend? In your bed? That's a whole extra level of degeneracy..."

"I know! Ugh! I swear, if he wasn't stronger than me I would have stabbed him that day!" You groan.

Marc rocks his head back in shock at the admission. "You were gonna stab him?"

"When you're five months pregnant, hormonal, tired, and sore and walk in on your fiancee doing the deed in your own bed? Yeah, emotions get high." You run a hand through your hair, smirking as you looked back at him.

"Grabbed the knife right outta the block and lunged at him. Chased em both half naked out of my flat."

'Shit, I'd be in love. That sounds sexy as hell.' Marc could just imagine the grin that would be spread across Jake's face at that.

Marc laughed, unable to contain himself, both at the retelling of your story and Jake's remark.

'You got problems, Jake.' Marc shot back mentally.

'Pot, meet kettle...'

'Touché...'

"So it's safe to say, he's out of the picture, huh?" Marc says, his laughter dying down into a soft chuckle.

"Oh yeah. Had his parental rights severed, and kicked his sorry.... well. I tossed him out and told him that my "best friend" could deal with him and his lazy antics, considering I pay for the flat."

"Yikes. Sounds like a real dirt bag."

"Oh yeah, he was. I have no idea what I saw in him, to be honest... And knowing that Victoria isn't "normal" like other kids, I feel like he would treat her badly, or... hurt her." You say, shaking your head.

"Hey, if he shows up and does that just call me." Marc grunted. "I hate it when people do that crap to kids. I'll knock his teeth down his throat."

The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the weight of them almost made them feel oppressive as glimpses of his abusive childhood shone through. The memories of his mother swinging her arm down, the crack of the leather belt, the red, bloody welts in his skin...

'Ay, hermano. Come back, don't think about that.' Jake's voice said gently, urging that door in his mind shut. 'That's not your life, anymore.'

Marc blinked and looked back up at you, his eyes locking with yours. And the concern on your face... he felt so undeserving of it. He wasn't sure why, but...

"Ah... I mean... Let's just say I have experience with that sort of thing. So I'm..." He struggled.

"No, no, I get it. My dad was a piece of shhh..." You cringed as the word almost slipped from you, casting a short glance to Victoria, making sure she couldn't hear you. "Er. He was bad. So yeah, I totally get you."

"Oh... Sorry, people get weirded out when I..." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Disassociate." You finish for him. "I used to do the same thing when it came to my dad. It gets easier once you're free of it, I promise."

The soft, sweet smile you give him was strong enough to make his heart jump into his throat.

'Wow...'

'Ask. Her. Out. Steven won't do it, so you do it!' Jake urged him.

Marc choked suddenly, coughing awkwardly to clear his throat at Jake's further commentary.

"You okay?" You ask him.

"Y-Yeah, I just... Uh..." He cringed again. "It's... allergies! I've been dealing with them since we dusted the flat, and... Yep. Allergies."

You chuckle softly at him as Victoria tugs on your sleeve and whispers in your ear.

"Oop, mama duty calls. It was nice meeting you, Marc." You grin, giving him a short handshake.

"Yeah... You too." Marc replied as you walked off, giving Victoria a wave as she peeked over your shoulder as you push the trolley away.

'Allergies? Smooth, Marc. Really smooth. How the hell did you ever bag Layla with romantic skills like that?' Jake sighed sarcastically.

'I swear Layla probably only married you for your dick, man. You're so BAD at romance.'

Marc knew Layla did love him, at one point but with all the drama of being Moon Knight, it quickly snuffed that relationship... They were still close of course, but they'd never open up to another intimate relationship again. Which was fine, none of them minded particularly.

Especially not now. Not now that there's a cute single mom with and adorably--scarily--smart little girl on her hip to occupy those thoughts.

And that... was your first time meeting Marc Spector.

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Now, meeting Jake was different. Completely different. You technically "met" Jake weeks after you met Marc and built a rapport with him.

One night, Jake was sitting in the window, munching on some saltines he'd spread with sunflower butter as he read some old knitting patterns in a book he'd picked up at a resale shop.

He thought he could knit something for both you and Victoria and have Steven give it to you, it would be a good way to start actually flirting, to hopefully open up that door for all of you.

But of course... well. He knew Steven was way too shy to ask you out on a date, and Marc was too chicken shit and awkward about the subject to bring it up himself.

And so, it fell upon Jake Lockley to find a way to get closer to you, two. He understood that many single mothers found it tricky to date, especially with a child like Victoria. It would require immense levels of trust to get past those walls you would have put up to protect both you and Victoria, especially after you'd told Marc about Victoria's biological father fucking your best friend the day of your ultrasound.

He could just imagine how your poor face fell when you closed your front door, hearing the ridiculously high-pitched, false moans and the squeaking of the mattress as that miserable excuse of a man was having his way with your supposed "best friend"...

All while your hands would have clutched the pictures of your unborn baby girl, tears bubbling up in your eyes as you screamed at them while they scrambled to cover their shame.

And then.... as you told Marc, you would have grabbed the knife and the rest was history; bidding goodbye to that cheating bastard and woman you once trusted.

You were strong, loving and oh so patient with your daughter and her needs. Jake found your whole being attractive, honestly. He hadn't seen you angry, but he just knew you were a badass if you wanted to be.

He chuckled as he picked up his knitting needles, and began to loop the soft, thick yarn through each line. He was sure to pick yarn that wouldn't upset Victoria and her sensory issues, so he picked the softest yarn he possibly could, selecting enough to make the both of you matching jumpers.

Victoria's would be a little big, to allow for comfort and her to grow into it as she wore it. He could just imagine how adorable she'd look with the sleeves hanging over her little hands, squirming and giggling as you two played together--

Jake's hands stopped knitting.

Shit. He had it down bad for you, too.

When he looked down, that's when he noticed the green laser pointed right at him...

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You were there, simply cleaning up the mess from dinner as Victoria happily colored on her dry erase board, drawing the shapes and hieroglyphs she saw in the book Steven selected for her.

She had been quiet and engrossed in her little art project for so long that you jumped and almost dropped a plate on the floor when she squealed loudly.

"Mommy, it's Steven! Or Mister Marc?"

"Huh? What?" You looked around your flat, for some reason your brain told you to look inside instead our our the window where her little finger tapped the glass excitedly.

"No, there!" She insisted. "Over there!"

You walk over to her and lean down, looking out the window.

And sure enough, across the street, in the building across from yours, an apartment had the curtains open with the lights on.

In one of the windows, at a desk, sat a man. The streets were close enough together that you could make out some details. The shadow of a mustache being the first thing you zeroed in on, and then the immaculately slicked-back hair.

He looked like he was... knitting? This man, who looked like Steven and Marc. Marc and Steven both mentioned on different occasions that they had a brother named Jake, maybe this was him?

And wow! So close by, too!

Victoria waved her arms, trying to get her attention, but the man was so absorbed in his task that he didn't notice her try to get his attention. When her little disappointed sniffles could be heard, you snap your fingers.

"I got an idea!" You say, dashing to the end table by the front door and rummaging through the various keychains you'd accumulated. It was a guilty habit of yours, you found.

But then you pluck up the laser toy and run back to the window. It takes shaking it once or twice for the green light to illuminate, but when it does, you shine it directly through the window and at the man's chest.

Then, he looked up.

You break out into a happy grin when he spots the two of you, and Victoria giggles with unabated glee as she waves some more, her whole tiny body moving with every shake of her overly excited hand.

You see the man smile back and he waves at the both of you.

"Hey, baby, why don't we use your board to say hi?" You suggest, rubbing her shoulders.

"Yeah!" She giggles, grabbing the board and erasing her painstakingly re-created drawings from the book, and messily scrawled the word:

Hi :)

The man laughed and looked around until he grabbed a notebook, scribbled something with a marker, and held it up for you two to see.

Hello

You chuckle as Victoria hands you the board, knowing that your writing is neater than hers is, and with how excited she is, she was bound to mess up.

You quickly and clearly write something down and turn the board to face the window.

Steven or Marc?

He smiled at you and scribbled back.

Jake

Marc n Steven told us about you. Hi!

They've told me a lot about you, too.

"That's Jake, honey. Remember what I said? How Steven and Mister Marc look alike? He's the same way." You explain to Victoria.

"Oh." She sighs. Poor little thing seemed dejected that once again, she misidentified someone as her "bestest friend".

You lift your eyes as Jake showed what he put on the notepad next. It was a badly drawn cat with a happy face on it.

You can't help but laugh and grin, nudging Victoria to look at what he drew for her.

"It's a kitty!" She gasps, snatching the board from your hands to draw pictures for him.

You spent much of the evening that night with Victoria and Jake drawing pictures back and forth, writing messages until he ran out of paper.

That's when you put down your phone number and told him to text, to make it easier on Victoria.

Victoria, upon realizing this, dropped her board and snatched your phone, starting a video call with Jake and chattering his ear off. He seemed to take it in stride, engaging with her. Not on the same level as Steven, but something about how he handled it gave you the impression he had experience with kids, or even worked with kids.

He didn't talk down or dumb anything down for her, he spoke to her calmly and clearly like he would anyone else, and the fact he was so sweet was endearing to you.

He was even teaching her little words in Spanish. For some reason, she liked to repeat the word "cat" because she liked how it sounded, and it was "funny".

That was how you met Jake Lockley.

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It was now half a year since you'd indirectly met all three "brothers" and quickly, the pressure was beginning to mount on them to reveal the truth to you as their crush developed more and more into full infatuation with you and your darling girl.

But they still hadn't asked you out, yet. They'd come close a few times, but it was never when Jake was in control so Marc and Steven backed down at the last possible moment. Every time Jake was in control it wasn't a "good moment" for them to propose a date with you. But now?

It was late in the year, the harvest festival being over with and the holidays around the corner with Christmas, as usual, dominating all others. Snow and ice encased everything. It came early this year, and Victoria couldn't be more thrilled. (She could build snowmen with her friends, Steven, Mister Marc and Mister Jake!)

You and Jake would text, and he gave in and told you that he, Marc, and Steven all actually lived together and he would "let" Steven or Marc use his phone so he could video chat with Victoria and you.

You didn't know the boys all shared the same phone regardless.

It was nice having a social life again, even if it was small. Outside work and ensuring a comfortable upbringing for your little girl, you'd forgotten how nice it was to have friends. Even if those friends consisted of three identical, quirky brothers who lived in the flat across the way.

The day was coming soon, for when they would have to confess to you about the true nature of their identities. And the three unanimously agreed that they would tell you about Moon Knight.

For your safety, and Victoria's. They didn't want you to agree to date them (if you ever would) only to find out they snuck out in the dead of night to do the bidding of some creepy ancient bird god who could frankly do with a wardrobe update...

They just didn't anticipate that day to be today. Of course, Steven would rather have broken the news to you over a nice dinner in the corner booth of a quiet restaurant. Or even on a nice walk through the park...

But no. No, it had to come out when you decided to pull out your phone and go through your texts or the day as Victoria sat in Steven's lap on the couch of your living room.

Jake had sent a meme earlier in the day, of a little cat wearing a sombrero and you chuckled. You sent a meme back in reply, of a snail holding some maracas on some drawn-on arms.

That's when Steven twitched when the phone in his back pocket vibrated and chimed with a silly little ringtone.

You blinked at him as he fished it out of his pocket, careful not to knock Victoria off balance as he checked it. He awkwardly cleared his throat and gave you a strained smile as he set it on the coffee table in front of you.

"You okay..." You say, eyeing the very familiar phone. They could just have the same model and case...

"Oh, yes, just an email alert, luv. Don't worry 'bout it!" Steven chirped, quickly shifting his attention back to Victoria as she practiced her reading from the book in her hands.

You squint at him suspiciously. Your finger hovered over the send button when you selected another silly little image...

But you decided to call instead.

That's when a song began to chime. One you recognized very well as Steven's favorite song...

♫"Lonely is a man,

Without looove~"♫

'God damn it, Steven! You forgot to put it on silent again!' Marc's panicked voice shouted inside their headspace.

'Ay, hermanito, not now!' Jake groaned.

Steven began to sweat profusely as Victoria handed the phone innocently to him, urging him to answer it, not making the correlation with the song, or your phone number...

Steven shakily held the phone to his ear and answered.

"H-Hello..."

"Steven." You deadpan, raising an eyebrow and tapping your finger on your arm.

'Shit shit shit shit.' Marc hissed.

'Busted.' Jake almost sang.

You look at Victoria, hesitant to interrupt her time with Steven, but you wanted answers. Why is it that none of the men ever agreed to all meet up in person to hang out? Why did you only ever see one at a time? Yes, work was a convenient excuse, but every single day?

And then there's the phone!

Yeah, you weren't letting Steven wiggle free from this talk, even as Victoria pouted and trudged back into her room to play with her toys.

You almost feel like a cop in a bad movie, the way you lean back with your arms crossed, almost like you were an interrogator in a police precinct.

Would this make you both the bad and good cop?

You felt so bad, knowing that this kind of behavior would only freak Steven out, so you relaxed your jaw and posture, leaning away from him and giving him breathing room as his sweaty hands began to pat nervously in the memorized tune of that specific song that was just playing.

"I'm not blind, and I'm not dumb... So start from the beginning." You sigh. "I don't want anything to come out and upset Victoria, but I have to know who I'm letting around my little girl."

Steven licked at his slightly chapped lips, taking his bottom lip between his teeth briefly.

"Okay..." He peeped.

'Just take it slow, Steven.' Marc urged him gently.

'I can take control, if you want.' Jake offered.

"No, that's too much right now." Steven muttered aloud, without thinking.

You tipped your head to the side. "What's too much?"

Steven jumped and covered his mouth, his big doe eyes wide as can be, like he's a little boy who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

He despised awkward situations like this. He could never tell what to say to keep someone happy and to avoid them getting angry with him...

"Steven, I'm not mad. I'm honestly confused. Please... Just... Tell me everything, okay? I just wanna know some things." You say, leaning forward to put your hand on his knee, your ever so patient eyes sweet and understanding.

Yeah, those eyes were his undoing.

"Do you know what Dissociative Identity Disorder is?"

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Whatever you had originally expected to hear from Steven, finding out that he, Marc and Jake all shared the same body was a lot to absorb. Especially after Steven blurted out about their superhero alter ego that apparently did bidding for an Egyptian god?

Steven expected you to be mad, braced himself for it, but instead, he and his two headmates were knocked entirely off center when you made the remark that if Khonshu ever got to be too much for the boys, they should lock him in a room with Victoria and her never-ending questions.

That would shut him up for a little while, surely.

Another thing you weren't expecting was the date proposal from Steven (and of course Marc and Jake).

You hesitated, at first... But...

They were so kind and sweet. They already have shown so much care for you and your daughter... And you were honestly happy to realize that you weren't crushing on different guys, that your feelings were no longer awkward and conflicted.

Or wait, were you crushing on different men? Yes they were completely different identities, but they shared a body, and... oh, this was gonna take time to learn more about.

Your first date was for later that week. Steven informed you it would be Jake, taking you out, as he felt like a "bloody awkward fool" and was afraid of messing it up, and Marc was just as bad at those social situations.

But you agreed, and when the date rolled around, you and Victoria were bundled up, all ready to go to the charming little Italian restaurant somewhere in town where apparently Jake was friendly with the employees there.

Victoria skipped in the snow, struggling to match her pace with yours, making sure her footsteps were measured so her prints mirrored yours exactly as she walked on her little tippy toes.

As you approached where Jake had his car parked, he smiled, his mustache quirking up as he scooped Victoria in his large gloved hands, laughing when she dragged her fingers over his hairy upper lip, comparing the stache to a caterpillar.

You stifled a snort and covered your mouth as you watched Jake buckle Victoria into a booster seat in the back of his car.

"Where did you..." You blinked. You fully intended to run back to your flat and grab the booster seat you owned, but you were surprised to see Jake already had one. A rather expensive-looking one, at that.

"Ay, cariño, you didn't think I'd let the little chiquita ride unprotected, did you?" He smirked at you, his dark eyes glinting mischievously.

"But, I have one. You didn't have to..."

"Hey, if it makes it easier, I'll be happy to foot the bill." Jake hummed, leaning in to check Victoria's buckles as she played on her tablet, snow-caked shoes kicking lazily as she did.

Normally, Jake was insane about his car. He always made sure his fares cleaned their damn feet off before getting inside. But for you two he willingly made the exception.

"Now, c'mon mamacita." Jake grinned at you once more as he enabled the child lock and closed the door on Victoria's side. "We got lunch to get to, right?"

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You couldn't remember the last time you were on a date. Actually wait, you could. The night you got pregnant. One of the only times Victoria's sperm donor was ever romantic with you, and he proposed the next morning after.

Yeah, you knew how that story ended.

But now it looked like a whole new book was being written right in front of you, as cliché as it all sounded.

Jake had treated you both well, engaging happily and drawing with Victoria on the activity mat the restaurant provided as you sipped your glass of red wine, watching; your heart was fluttering in your chest as you watched how happy she was interacting with them.

After a while, he went back out to his car and returned with a sparkly red gift bag for the two of you and you immediately felt your heart lurch up from your chest and into your throat.

He knitted the two of you matching jumpers. A mama cat and her kitten, of course, he managed to do it in an Egyptian style, much to Victoria's glee as she ripped off her regular jumper in favor of the one Jake made, immediately rubbing her face on the sleeve with a happy giggle.

You couldn't help but smile warmly as Jake helped her pop her head through the top, and you decided to slip yours on, yourself.

God, it was almost surreal how Hallmark it all seemed. Not one, but three men interested in you, a lonely single mother. All three men who adored your daughter and treated you both with respect. All three men, who shared the same body and nighttime secret.

And you found yourself falling just as hard, and somewhere in the back of your mind wondered if--if--you had met them first... would they have been Victoria's father(s)? Would they have rejoiced in your pregnancy? Gone to your appointments, held your hand in the delivery room? Would they have helped the doctors weigh and print Victoria for the very first time?

Your mind was knocked out of the what-ifs when your phone jingled, catching Jake's attention.

"Oh, it's Victoria's pediatrician. I have to take this." You sigh sadly, not wanting to step away from the cozy atmosphere in your booth.

Jake smiled at you and winked, "Go ahead and take it. I got her handled."

You smiled back, hoping the flush to your face wasn't as obvious as you feared as you got up and answered the call.

Jake continued to play and draw with Victoria, letting her explain how some of her learning games worked, what apps were her favorite, and who her favorite cartoon characters were.

Honestly, if anyone thought Steven was great with Victoria thanks to their same autistic traits? Jake was good simply because he was a natural with kids. Marc was, too, but he was a bit stiff and nervous. He needed to be eased into it just a bit more.

"Hey.... Psst. Mister Jake." Victoria whispered to him, blinking her big, bright, gorgeous eyes up at him.

"Yeah? What is it, gatita?" Jake hummed at her, grinning.

She waved her hand, urging him closer as she whispered conspiratorially, cupping her hand over his ear, "Look where Mommy's standing."

Jake lifts his gaze to find you among the crowd of people, where you stood on your phone, talking to the doctor about Victoria's upcoming appointment. He tracked where Victoria was pointing, and that's when he saw it: the mistletoe.

He knew immediately what Victoria was hinting at.

"That means you gotta kiss my Mommy." She whispered to him again.

"Oh, I do, huh?" Jake teased, poking her in the side. "And what if I don't?"

"Then Imma make you!" She squeaked and giggled.

"Oh, dear, then in that case I definitely have to do it, eh?" He chuckled.

"C'mon." Jake said, scooping Victoria up and holding her on his hip. "Let's go give another present to your wonderful mamá."

As they got closer to you, he caught the tail-end of your conversation.

"...yeah. Next Wednesday at 3pm. See you, then, Doctor Wilson. ...Of course! Happy holidays." You say cheerily, ending the call.

When you turned around, you saw Jake holding Victoria against him as he walked closer to you.

The sight really shouldn't have taken your breath away the way that it did...

But if you thought your breath was taken before? It was entirely robbed from you as Jake leaned in, wrapping an arm around your waist as he tipped his head down to kiss you, his mustache tickling your nose and upper lip.

You were so taken aback that you didn't hear the whooping and laughing from the workers of the restaurant as the scene unfolded in front of them, congratulating Jake.

Victoria squirmed and squealed and laughed and laughed, rubbing her face on Jake's leather jacket as your lips finally parted and your jaw dropped.

"What's the matter, mamacita? Cat got your tongue?"

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God, dating those men was the best decision you ever made. Even with them being Moon Knight.

They were kind enough to always say goodnight to Victoria before they went about their business, giving you a soft kiss before whichever one was in control of the body departed.

You had only been dating a short while, it was now entering February and you were all spending more and more time together. Marc, Jake, and Steven had all spent the night once or twice in their own time.

Nothing sexual happened, but it was so nice to fall asleep with someone wrapping their arms around you. It was even better to wake up and see Victoria snuggled onto his chest, his arms caged around her protectively, flexing when she made any movements as his unconscious body ensured she wouldn't roll off of him and--god forbid--onto the floor.

It was a few days before Valentine's, and Marc had spent the day with you and Victoria. He had gotten much more comfortable around her, falling into a natural and gentle routine unique to them. Just like she had with Steven, and Jake. And above all, they handled her autism well.

Steven was exceptionally good at helping distract her during her meltdowns, whereas Jake could cradle her, singing little songs in Spanish as he rubbed her back. Marc would start by talking to her in a low, gentle tone, urging her to just breathe, and talk, explaining what was upsetting her and what would work best to help her calm down from it.

But right now, Victoria was in the midst of a battle against sleep.

"Don' wanna sleep." Victoria sniffled into Marc's jumper.

"I know, babydoll, but you'll feel loads better once you do, mkay?" He murmured quietly to her as he padded, barefoot into Victoria's almost obnoxiously canary-yellow bedroom.

"I can make some apple pancakes for you in the morning, hm? How's that sound?"

He dodged the minefield of toys scattered about and chuckled softly at the shelf where her little ancient Egypt memorabilia sat meticulously organized alongside her books and drawings on the subject. A half-finished paper sarcophagus lay on the desk in the corner, a project Steven had started with her two days ago that they intended to finish together.

Marc laid her down and she nodded, rubbing her eye. "Okay..." She mumbled in agreement.

Marc picked up the plushy scarab that Steven bought from the gift shop and handed it to her, tucking her in all nice and warm.

"There you go." He said softly to her, kneeling next to the bed. "Snug as a bug in... well. Blankets, right now, huh?"

He grinned when Victoria giggled groggily at his pun, squeezing the beetle plush she named "Digger" and snuggled under the blankets, her feather lashes brushed her cheeks as she began to drift off.

"See you in the morning, babydoll." Marc said softly, giving her a kiss to her forehead before standing.

His finger had just flipped the switch to turn off the lights in her room, so only the salt lamp dimly illuminated her bedside, when he heard her peep as she rolled over.

"G'night daddy."

He felt like his heart stopped beating as he shakily closed the door, dragging his suddenly very heavy feet through your flat as he made his way to your couch, the weight of that word landing on his shoulders.

He felt like Atlas, carrying the world on his back as he dropped down onto the chocolate brown cushions.

You walk over, having finished dishes from dinner, wiping your hands on a tea towel. Upon seeing his shell-shocked expression, you sit next to him in concern as he covered his face with his hands, his arms shaking and skin pale.

"Marc, sweetie, what's wrong?"

"I..." He said, his voice breaking.

You lean in, reaching out to brush a hand through his mop of curls, letting him take his time. Maybe Steven or Jake was trying to front? You've seen how taxing it could be on them when it happened so suddenly. One time Steven had seized control in the kitchen from Jake and he fell and cracked his head open on the counter! Poor Victoria cried when she saw how much he was bleeding, scared that he was dying.

It took a lot of hugs and kisses to convince her otherwise...

"She... God. Fuck." Marc swore softly, sniffing. "She--she called me daddy."

Your jaw dropped and you gawked at him. Was Victoria already so attached to him? To them? But then again, she's never had a father figure, before, either, and suddenly having not one, but technically three men in her life doing all the things a dad should do? You can understand why she would--hell, why you would...

He dropped his arms and you could see the beginnings of tears clump in his beautiful eyelashes, heavy weights of emotion settling deep in his chest.

He looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink the tears away. God, he didn't deserve all of this. He didn't deserve this... this domesticity. Guys like him just didn't get to have a life like that. Not with everything he's had to do as a soldier, a mercenary... in Khonshu's name.

He didn't deserve such a beautiful woman, or the idolized gaze of her sweet and innocent baby girl.

'You're too hard on yourself, Marc.' Steven said to him in their headspace.

'Yeah, hermano...' Jake murmured.

"Marc, honey..." You say, leaning in and adjusting your position, so your head lay on his chest. You spread your hand over his heart, feeling how it hammered in the muscle of his chest.

"I just... What the hell did I do to get this?" He asked softly, bringing his arms around you to bury his nose in your hair.

"Well, I think it all started the day a certain little girl wiggled free of me and ran into a gift shop..."

Marc chuckled, squeezing you tight.

"Would you want us to?" He whispered. "Would you want us to stay? Would you be okay with that? I know it's soon, and--and I'm not saying we move in or anything like that, but..."

"I think it would crush Victoria if I ever shoo'd you boys away, honey." You assured him, tipping your head up to give him a sweet kiss.

You feel the tension slowly bleed from his body and his expression softens into a heartbreakingly sweet smile, his dark eyes sparkling with a warmth that you haven't seen before as your lips parted.

"Then we'll stay. As long as you both will put up with us." He said to you, his voice so quiet you almost couldn't catch his words.

"How do Steven and Jake feel about her calling you daddy?" You smile slyly.

Marc grins and drops his head back with a laugh, listening to the bickering of his headmates as his anxiety ebbed away.

"Oh... They're arguing over who Vicky is gonna call daddy next."

"We need to think of nicknames for you guys so she doesn't confuse you." You laughed with him.

Your laughter was cut short when you heard Victoria's door click open, and out she waddled, blanket clutched in one arm, Digger firmly squeezed into the crook of her elbow and her thumb was in her mouth. She only sucked her thumb when she was frightened, or severely anxious.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Marc asked, shooting to his feet even before you could, at her side in a split second.

You joined him and put your hands on her shoulders, looking into her drowsy and not-entirely-awake eyes. "Did you have a bad dream?"

She shook her head, mumbling something around her thumb.

"What is it, kiddo?" Marc inquired next.

She pulled her thumb out of her mouth with a pop.

"There's a bird-man in my room."

[the-onelol]

"God of War" Seth x "God of the Moon" Reader (Ennead) Pt. 1

========================

Seth attended one of Ra's meetings, he expected it to be the same boring announcements she makes every now and then.

But this time when he entered the hall he was greeted by someone standing in the middle of the gigantic hall, to be judged.

A God with a falcon mask and a huge disk on top stood in the middle of the gigantic hall, braving against Ra's absolute dominance.

"Is that all, Ra?" The God with the Falcon mask asked as if he was determined to leave already.

Seth quietly made his way next to Nephthys.

He pointed at the strange scene happening and asked, "What's going on?"

Nephthys sighed and questioned, "You know great uncle Khonshu?" Seth nodded. "He's going to leave."

His eyes widened with shock but the mask covering his face covered it, but the way his voice echoed around the hall did not. "What?!"

Seth's voice echoed in the large hall of judgment, taking the attention off the God of the Moon, Khonshu.

"Hm?" The God, Khonshu whom Seth thought was being judged, but was instead leaving turned his head to look for the source of the sound.

Nephthys looked away from Seth and acted as if she did not know the man, silently sighing inside her head.

And Seth looked around as if he wasn't the one who just shouted.

Ra snickered, taking the attention off whatever just happened, and teased Khonshu. "Awe, leaving so soon? Don't you even miss me?"

(Khonshu pov)

"Absolutely not." You were determined to leave already after hearing about your banishment. You were sure spending more time with Ra has to be deteriorating your mind.

"Don't you want to meet your grand-nephews who I'm pretty sure don't know you?" Ra asked as she sat on her throne with her head resting on her hand.

You repeated your previous answer. "Absolutely not."

"Suit yourself then."

"Goodbye, my dearest Khonshu." She said with affection lacing her voice. You, in turn, looked at her with disgust but your mask hid it from her, but the way she snickered made you think she just saw your expression.

With a sigh, you turned your back on her and silently made your way towards the exit. You were one step away from the exit when Ra opened her mouth again and said the following words, that stopped you from exiting quickly.

"The doors to Ennead will always be open for you."

You turned your head over your shoulder and said, "Close it the fuck up." While you were turning your head again to look in front, did you see Seth with his mouth wide open, shocked, baffled, and extremely impressed.

Your gaze only lasted for less than a second, but Seth felt the way your eyes scanned him. As if you were dissecting him.

When you finally opened the door to exit the hall, Seth realized that was the first and last time he would see you for a while.

========================

Seth has tried for each night for many thousands of years to try and summon you, call for you, anything to interact with you. But all of them failed. But still, he never stopped trying, much to his brother's dismay.

You were growing tired of his pestering, and you left Ennead to not deal with useless things, but perhaps you should've just stayed if it meant Seth would not bother you at all.

He gave up trying to summon you, but instead replaced it with stories of his days, from his hunting with his son to his thoughts about his family. Treating you as if you were some diary of some sort.

Their son sometimes did it as well, albeit less than both his parents. From his love for his mother to his idolization for his father. The boy's stories amused you the most, the way his stories were a bit more unreal than how his father told them made you chuckle.

His wife also did it, she rambled each Sunday about how adorable Anubis was and how cute Seth was around her.

One night she seemed down, her stories were not as lively, and her eyes didn't gaze at the moon with pure adoration, but instead, she gazed at the moon as if she was asking for forgiveness.

"I love them very much, what I did was wrong I know...if I were to tell them the truth...would they find it in their heart to forgive me?"

========================

A few years passed, but it seemed to pass by with not much of a problem. Everyone seemed to have heard about the family treating you as a diary and they started to do it too. Making you scratch your head in annoyance.

Ra did it once but seeing how the moon turned pure black suddenly she didn't do it anymore.

========================

Perhaps it was because you didn't sleep for a few nights, or perhaps it was the boredom coming to give you hallucinations to keep you entertained.

But was Seth being raped by his own brother?

You waved the thought off your mind, but the way Seth, The God of War, Seth cried made you doubt if this really was a hallucination.

--------------------------------------

Seth escaped Osiris's grasp and ran outside to try and run away from his 'Brother'. He was crying, he didn't know he was crying. Perhaps he couldn't feel it or think about it when he was running away from his so-called 'Brother'.

"You bastard..." Seth gasped out as he tried to cover himself up, feeling sick down to his stomach.

Osiris said nothing and tried to reach Seth but was stopped by a pure white spear.

"What the fuck are you doing Osiris? Have you gone so low as to touch your own brother against his will?"

A familiar voice asked. A voice Seth was oh so unfamiliar yet familiar with. He had only heard it once, but he made sure to never forget it.

"Do not meddle with my problems, Khonshu."

You put your hands in the air "I'm not meddling with yours," Making Seth's heart drop. You pointed at Seth who was shivering, "I'm meddling with his."

========================

"You know, if I knew that saving you would cause the death of thousands, I wouldn't have saved you."

"But you did."

"Unfortunately, I did."

Seth tilted his head, and the strands of his hair followed suit. "Will you finally stop me, after many years?" He asked as his eyes turned into what you think, resembles crescent moons.

"No." You answered as you sat down on a seat right across from him seemingly to be put there just for you.

"Well, why are you here then?" He asked as he slurred his words.

"Checking on you."

"Why?"

"Your child, Anubis was it? Told me about your conditions."

His eyes widened at your words, as he sat up and asked shakily. "Anubis? Do you know where he is now?"

Your eyes scanned his face if the worry in his voice matched the expression on his face. The worry on his face doesn't match the Seth everyone talks about, the selfish, killing machine, and absolute maniac Seth.

But this was someone else. The Seth that Nephthys always seemed to boast about while they were married, the Seth that cares about his family. She always rambled about this side of Seth on full moons as if she were talking with you.

You visited her one night, but that's a story for another time.

You sighed, "I'm not sure if this is your child, he seems to be out of it." with a snap of your fingers a child entered the room filled with the smell of alcohol.

Not wasting a second, Seth the God of War stood up and ran to hug the boy. "Anubis!"

Your eyes scanned the boy's expression and whispered to yourself. "That's not Anubis..."

"Well, whatever..."

"...Whatever makes this madman happy for now."

========================

(A few years pass by)

"Great uncle! Can you teach me more moves?"

"Stop following me Horus."

---------------------------------------

"Great uncle, can you tell me more stories about your adventures?"

"Not you too Anubis..."

========================

They kept pestering you, and you were not having it. A light bulb lit up in your head. There is only one place they would both avoid,

Seth's temple.

"So tell me, oh great and amazing Khonshu, what are you doing here?" Seth asked playfully as he patted the seat beside him, motioning the you to take a seat with him.

You shook your head to decline and answered him honestly, "Your nephew and your child keep bothering me in my temple."

"And this is the only place they would both avoid." You grumbled.

Silence filled the intoxicated room until Seth suddenly opened his mouth.

"Did you know that I rambled to you a long time ago? As if you were some sort of a diary."

You stayed silent for a second, "I do."

He stood up and asked, "Do you remember all of them?"

You were feeling a bit in danger with how his mask suddenly started to form on his head. You chuckled a bit and answered honestly "I do."

He started walking towards you and asked, "Do you know why I did them?"

"No." You answered honestly. You stayed seated, curious as to what Seth would do.

He stopped right in front of you and said, "Because I wanted to annoy you." You raised your eyebrow at him, "To try and summon you to stop me from annoying you."

He kneeled in front of you and took your hand, "I wonder why you never stopped me..."

You took your hand away from his if he were to suddenly stand up you would be out of there. "Know your boundaries."

He stood up, you were going to run away but the sands suddenly chaining your hands stopped you.

"You're intoxicated you bastard." You tried to reason.

He ignored your words as one of his hands gripped your chin and the other gripped your mask as he mumbled. "How do you look under that mask, Khonshu..."

"Great uncle?"

========================

(In my head khonshu is like on of Ra's direct descendant)

(also the osiris scene is after osiris gave seth, anubis's godhood)

[ivystoryweaver]

im so interested in what u think the moon boys would be like as dads???

Ohhhhh, this is gonna hurt my heart. In a good way. I have a lot of feelings about Moon Dads and I've not yet written fics about it so yeah...

I'm gonna jump right in with Marc.

I think if Marc had a child, he would be all in: attentive, tender, affectionate.

I don't actually believe Marc would be afraid of parenting. I know that can be a popular hc/fic plot and I totally understand why, and love reading those.

But I think Marc would be one of those people that would try to do the opposite of what was done to him. Example: his parents were married and that went well... (sarcasm)

Yet Marc got married. He and Layla were together for years and, according to her, had "adventures together", meaning they worked as a (likely successful) team. Marc bailed on Layla once his mom passed and he could no longer control or hide his disassociations (plus Khonshu's threats for Layla to be his next avatar).

Point being: Marc did get married and seemed pretty successful at it, for the most part.

Marc is in charge of bath time. This includes little toy boats, fish that squirt water, bubbles. He's going to wash their hair, or whatever hair needs they have, depending on race and hair types. If it is a hair type he isn't as familiar with, he is going to be talking to his partner, looking up vids, whatever it takes. Touch is going to be so important to him. He is the dad who will know how to do french braids or styles for textured hair.

He's never going to react in anger. If he is angry, he's going to hand the reins to Steven or sometimes Jake (if he is able, it's obviously not a parlor trick), or he will just say to his little one, "Daddy is going to take a time out. I'll be back in a minute and we can have a talk." The idea of putting himself in time out is so endearing to his child that they end up calming from whatever misbehavior they were attempting, wanting to join him in the corner for time out, touching a plushie or reading a book in his lap.

They learn very young that their father's expressions can be stern but his hands are safe. They will not want to disappoint him.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Steven can converse naturally with children, this we see in the first episode. Steven's open, engaging nature is great for children. His own childlike wonder will shine in fatherhood. He was also able to quickly redirect the behavior of the girl who was littering at the museum. So a spunky child in a doctor's office waiting room will be easily wrangled by a distracting toy, quick game or wonderful story.

Steven is your go-to guy for bedtime stories. With a young child, Steven will share how wondrous the world around them is. He'll always have a anecdote or a fun fact for tweens or teens.

He will offer choices. "Do you want to put on 'jammies now or after a story?" "Do you want to help Dad set the table or feed the cat?" Steven has lacked agency in his life, so he is going to give it to his child. He will teach them to speak up for their needs.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Jake is going to be such a little shit as a dad. I'm sorry but there is no nicer way to say it lol. Jake's used to operating in the background and he's a night owl. He's the fun dad. He's the "don't tell mom" dad (or don't tell dad, dad). Kid wants stay up 15 extra minutes? It's Jake that's gonna sneak them some of the popcorn he popped after they were supposed to be asleep. As a partner, you'd find your little one on Jake's knee in the most comfy chair, watching the Yankees play baseball.

You give them The Look™ and they know they are busted. They exchange guilty glances and then Jake starts repeating words in Spanish. Baseball, Popcorn, very good! If you are already all Spanish speakers then Jake pretends to be practicing in both Spanish and English.

Either way, he and his little twin, with their adorable curls, give you shit eating grins.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[romana-after-dark]

Dead Dove December

Hello everyone! This December I’m hosting an event for the Oscar Isaac and Pedro Pascal fandom that I’m calling, Dead Dove December! From 12/01/2023 - 12/31/2023 I’m encouraging others to create something that expresses their deepest and (most importantly) darkest desires. I will be reblogging all pieces of art or fanfiction, and will post a masterlist in January. 

Details below the cut…

What is Dead Dove Do Not Eat?

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, or DDDNE has its origins in one of my comfort shows!

The phrase comes from a meme referencing the 2003 Arrested Development episode "Top Banana", in which Michael Bluth opens a paper bag labeled "DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT" and, upon discovering that there is a dead dove inside the bag, says, deadpan, "I don't know what I expected." - fanlore.org

In short, what you see in the tags is what you should expect to see in the fic. This can apply for any type of fic, including the fluffy ones, but it’s usually associated with darker themes. That being said, this is your warning that this is a DARK THEMED EVENT. If you aren’t comfortable with darker topics like non-con, excessive violence, blood/gore, death, toxic relationships, 18+ age gaps, and more, then I encourage you not to participate in this event.

How to Participate

For the month of December, post your Dead Dove fanfiction or fan art on your blog. Use the tag #deaddovedecemeber2023 and tag me. You can also send a link via ask or DM if you like! I will not be posting anything for you, just reblogging and linking. At the end of December I will post a masterlist with links to everyone’s works! Side Note - Since Tumblr doesn’t really allow for NSFW art, you can post your work on Twitter or any other site that allows it and just send me that link so I can add it to the masterlist.

Rules

You MUST be 18+ to participate. I will be checking your blog/social media to be sure. Please make sure your age is easy to find. If I find that you’re a minor or if your age isn’t readily present I will be blocking you and you will be unable to participate. You can just add that you are over 18 if you don’t want your age out on the internet. As the creator and promotor of this event, I need to know I’m not interacting with minors given the nature of this event.

The work MUST be dark in some way. There’s no limit to how dark your work needs to be or can be, but it needs to contain some sort of dark theme in order to qualify. If non con isn���t your thing, dub con via stockholm syndrome or brainwash can let you write a more comfortable scene while still remaining dark. Fics and art do not necessarily need to be NSFW.

Do NOT post anything before 12/01/2023. I will not count submissions prior to that date or after 12/31/2023. Masterlsit will be posted in January.

Your work MUST contain the proper tags. I won’t police how detailed your tags should be, but, for instance, if your work contains non-con, and you didn’t tag non-con then your work will not qualify. Please be inclusive in your writing where you can.

You may submit no more than two (2) pieces. This can include a fanfic and fanart, two fanfics or two fanarts. This is to allow someone to write a piece and make a work of art to accompany it.

I’m not going to yuck someone’s yum, but there are some things I’m just personally not comfortable with and since I’ll be reading/viewing all of these, I have a few things not allowed in the event. The list of what’s NOT allowed is shorter than the list of what IS allowed so here’s a list of the things that will NOT be tolerated in this event:

No underage/aged up minor content - To clarify, this includes things popular ships like - TLOU 1 or Show Ellie x Joel or Miguel O’Hara X Gwen Stacy. No "ageing up" minors for the purpose of a fic.

No Bestiality - To clarify, monsterfucking does NOT count as bestiality (at least to me). For example, werewolves, venom, Khonshu, e.t.c. are all allowed.

No incest - To clarify, step-sibling/step-parent relationships are permitted as long as everyone is 18+. Selfcest relationships are also allowed (like Moon Knight or Miguel with his alternate self, e.t.c.).

If you’re unsure if something is allowed or not, you can send me a DM or an ask for clarification prior to posting.

You can use any prompts you want or none, you aren’t tied to any one idea but here are some to get the ideas flowing if you need them!

Also, you can absolutely use a fic to inspire your art, or art to inspire a fic! Your inspiration piece, whether yours or someone else’s does not have to be from December, but you MUST obtain permission from the original creator before I promote your work. Most creators are happy when their work inspires others, and all my fics are open to being used for inspiration, but please reach out to the creator first.

I’m very excited! I’ve never done anything like this before so things may be updated as I go so bear with me! Looking forward to seeing what you all come up with!

Dividers and header made by the amazing @melodygatesauthor

Please consider reblogging to spread the word!

[pimosworld]

The sun and the moon

🌙Pairing-Moon boys x f!reader x Khonshu x Hathor 

  🌔Summary- You, a long lost descendant of Hathor,  crosses paths with Moon Knight. A chance for Khonshu to reconcile with his past and a chance for the boys to have a future. 

  🌒CW-18+,MDNI, Explicit smut, angst, hurt, comfort, canon typical violence, god and goddess powers, mentions of parental abuse, past domestic abuse (not physical), healing old wounds, healing your inner child, eventual happy ending. 

WK-1.2K

A/N- This idea has been bouncing around in my head for months and now I’m finally tackling it. Don’t have a set schedule for posting or an idea for how many chapters so it should be a wild ride for my moon babes.

Not beta read

[Series Masterlist][Moon Knight Masterlist]

Prologue

He steps into the coffee shop holding a newspaper over his head to shield himself from the rain. He’s sporting that scowl between his brows as he grumbles under his breath. 

He takes his fingers through his hair trying as best he can to smooth his hair out of his face. No flat cap today. 

The barista doesn’t understand as she tries to make conversation. It was so obvious to you in the beginning and yet people who greet him everyday don’t even notice. 

Hmmm coffee with sugar today…interesting. 

He says something to the mirror next to the register about buying a new coffee pot as he taps his foot and waits. His arms crossed as he scanned the room. 

It’s Pavlovian the way he drifts to you and sits next to your table. The one he doesn’t even know is saved for him. 

“This tastes like crap.” He sets the mug down like it personally offended him. 

“You’re a little nicer when you have tea.” Marc looks over at you, but you don’t look up from your book. “Although decidedly more grumpy than when you have black coffee.” 

He clears his throat a little before speaking. “I’m sorry, did you say something to me?”

You pick up your pressed sunflower bookmark and place it gently between the pages. “You’re much nicer on the days you have tea.” 

He feels warm suddenly, when your eyes meet him. The heat is almost too much as he shucks off his jacket. Maybe the coffee was stronger than he thought because he’s sure he can hear his own heartbeat. 

Steven did tell him to take a break. 

You smile at him and place the book in your bag as you stand from the corner table and exit. You squeeze his shoulder once as you wave goodbye to the barista. 

He stares down at where your hand was, it’s seared into him. Like the ache from a sunburn. 

Well that settles that mate

“Settles what?”

She has that effect on all of us

****

He doesn’t know how long it’s been. 

When he sees you again and recognizes the barista as she smiles at him. Her cheeks are red and she stammers a little over her words. 

He can’t focus on anything but that table next to you. He wants to get to that table before anyone else does. 

You can tell it’s him when he walks in. His hair is combed back and he’s wearing that black jacket you love that fits him like a glove. 

Your eyes flit briefly to the register where the girl who is absolutely smitten with them tries to compose herself enough to not ruin his coffee again. 

He’s nervous 

There’s two open tables, the one next to you and one by the drafty door. You meet his eyes as he weighs his options while he waits for the girl to finish his coffee. 

There's that warmth again, it’s too hot in here. He removes his jacket and sheepishly heads toward you. He gently places it in the seat beside your corner table that looks out onto the street. 

“I would never let anyone take your spot.” He’s certain this time, you’re speaking to him. You don’t look up from your book The art and architecture of ancient Egypt. 

They call his name twice before he heads back to the counter to collect his coffee. 

You take a few notes and bite down on your pen as you think of what to say next. He can see the indentation where you bite the pen. The way your lips rest carefully on the edge. The way your brow furrows when you’re thinking. 

He finds himself exactly where he wants to be in his seat. With nothing to say.

The hot coffee somehow cools him down from the flames burning inside. He closes his eyes and is drawn back to the last time he remembered it tasting this good. 

When he opens them again you’re smiling at the barista shooting her a thumbs up as she claps her hands in delight. 

He swallows thickly, he’s never been this nervous. Not even as moon knight. 

“I’ve seen that book before.” His voice somehow sounds foreign even to him.

You flip it over and glance at the back and laugh. A sound he could definitely get used to. 

“I would hope so, Steven let me borrow it.”

She’s almost finished it, I just gave it to her a few days ago. 

You resume your book as if you didn’t just say the most earth shattering thing for his fragile mind to hear. It shouldn’t come as a surprise with how comfortable you are in his presence. 

You know he’s dangling off a cliff and you might as well just give him that push he needs to let go. 

“That reminds me.” You dig through your bag for a moment before sliding a small leather bag toward him. “I haven’t seen Jake in a few days, it looked like he might need it.” 

Marc shakily opens the bag to reveal a leather patch kit. He takes three deep breaths before zipping it closed. 

If you’re going to sit there like an idiota at least say thank you. 

“Jake said thank you.” Shit. Why would he say that out loud? 

“De nada.” 

You know. 

Sì she knows. 

Was he that closed off after Layla that they didn’t want him to meet you? Maybe they were scared he’d run you away. It’s shocking to have Jake partnering with Steven to keep secrets from him. 

Then again, maybe you weren’t a secret. 

You can tell he’s genuinely surprised and a little uncomfortable but Steven and Jake told you that was to be expected. This is the longest conversation you’ve had with him, where he didn’t recede from the front. 

Long enough for him to finally start opening up to you. Asking your name and how long you’ve known him, them. 

You and Steven bonded over tea and your love for ancient Egypt. He was helping you prepare for your interview with the museum to become a curator. 

Jake would give you rides to the library or home, when the weather was particularly bad. 

He can place it now…that scent that lingers on his clothes from time to time. Your perfume, a mixture of vanilla and lavender. It’s overwhelming his senses now as you lean in and laugh at some off handed remark he said. 

You must be comfortable enough to hug them, to press your body close to theirs. Close enough to leave a trace of you on them for days on end. It’s exhilarating and maddening all at once…to know he’s closed himself off from you for so long that you’re practically strangers. 

Except you aren’t. 

You’re much more than that. The way you reach over and trace a new scar on his brow. Staring at it like it personally offended you. Your touch burns and lingers long after you’ve placed them back in your lap. The look on your face like you’ve possibly crossed some boundary with him. He desperately wants you to touch him again. To leave a mark not unlike his scars. 

“I thought he was supposed to heal you?” 

It’s evident he’s missed more days with you than he can conceive. He can feel his chest constricting even before the words leave his mouth. “Who?”

“Khonshu.” 

The bird looks on from a building high above the street. He’s not sure how you could’ve forgotten that you’re the one who’s supposed to heal them. 

🌕Comments and reblogs are much appreciated 🌒

Taglist- @chichimisaki @missdictatorme @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @queerponcho @melodygatesauthor

[eyelessfaces]

sigh. I can see "i've got this, you go rest." from the prompt list with the moon boys. specifically marc, maybe you guys have a kid and they wake up crying after a nightmare. marc's been gone but the second you sit up you feel a soft grip on your shoulder, the mumble and he takes care of everything AUGH

You can only feel frustration.

She won’t stop crying, you have tried everything. You’re on the verge of tears too, desperate for that nightmare to slip from her mind so you can both go back to bed and have a peaceful night.

You feel like you’ve been here for hours, and hot tears are still streaming down along her baby round cheeks. Maybe you aren't cut for this, maybe parenting isn’t for you. 

You could solicit the boys’ help, ask for back up to anyone that would be fronting at the moment when you wake them up. But you know they have had a long, tiring day serving Khonshu, and you would feel awful waking them up for something you should be able to figure out alone.

So you cradle her head close to you, run your hand through the dark curls that she so evidently inherited from her fathers, and gently rock her in your arms, pacing around her room. 

You have tried everything. Her favorite plushie, her favorite song, singing it to her, taking her outside for some fresh air, everything.

But it still won’t do. 

“Please, come on” you whine, almost beg, crushed by desperation as frustrated tears gather at the brim of your eyes. You’re not angry at her, you’re almost sure you could never be. You’re angry at yourself for not being able to take care of this properly, maybe you are what’s wrong.

Then you think you’re hallucinating when you feel a soft grip over your shoulder. You turn around, and you’re way too exhausted to even figure out who it is out of the three of them that is leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ve got this, you go rest.” Marc. The half awake mutter is followed by a compassionate smile as he reaches to take hold of your daughter.

Marc gently takes your daughter into his arms, his movements fluid and calm. Marc, the man that believed he would never be good enough, would never be able to be a good father.

You feel some relief as you walk up to the doorframe, your daughter’s cries slowly starting to stop now as Marc hums her a lullaby. 

“Thank you Marc” you mumble, your voice betraying the weariness you’re not even trying to hide.

He nods, his eyes expressing understanding. The frustration inside you begins to dissipate, replaced by a profound sense of gratitude for Marc’s support. 

You go back to your bedroom and slide under the sheets, and though you want to wait for Marc to come back to bed to thank him again, the heavy weight over your eyelids won’t allow it.

[minispidey]

Lust is a Drug.

Marc Spector x f!reader. Angie's first kinktober.

(a/n: i got writer's block! but i just had to put this out as soon as i could finish it and I finally did! and i just realized marc didn't take off reader's undies... mushi said it was ok so i'm not gonna edit it...)

warnings: corruption, breeding, p in v, cheating, reader is in a cult. english is not my first language.

word count: 2,394.

For as long as you can remember, you've never really known the world outside your house. You weren't taught basic math or science, you were just your parents' doll. So when they let you go, after 21 years of being under their control, you wandered off not knowing what to do. You didn't have a diploma or the basic education to even get a job.

And when a couple of nice people invited you to their small town, of course, you accepted. You were provided shelter, food, and clothing. You were as pure as an angel and untouched, and Arthur Harrow set his eyes on you, wanting you for himself. You were the perfect woman.

Of course, you said yes. He was kind to you. He was a decent husband, but your marriage wasn't what you imagined it would be. There was always something missing.

When your husband brought back Khonshu's avatar, you were curious. Finally, someone who knew what the world was like without being as brainwashed as everyone around you.

You poked your head out to watch your husband lead the man to the dining area. Your white dress swayed as you made your way to Arthur's side, holding his arm "How fascinating..." you whispered.

"Don't mind her. This is my wife, just curious like always." Arthur looks at you before patting your head "Dearest, I'd like you to meet Steven Grant and well, Marc Spector."

"It's very nice to meet you." you stared doe-eyed at him. Steven's eyes shifted towards you before nodding "It's nice to meet you too."

"Why don't you go ahead and help with supper, hm? Run along now." Arthur smiles at you before rubbing your back.

"Alright." you obediently nodded as you went off to the other tables. Arthur let out a small laugh "Beautiful, isn't she?"

"Your wife? Yeah, I guess- I mean, she's a real beauty." Steven stammered with his words "She's lovely."

"Don't be so tense. She doesn't bite." Arthur pats his back as they both sit in front of a table.

From afar, you continued to stare at Steven. Your eyelashes fluttered a bit and your body felt like putty. You squealed a bit when your fingertips accidentally graze over a boiling pot.

Right. Kitchen duties.

The night wore out, and you retreated to your quarters, washing yourself. The soft silk of your nightgown rubbed against your skin as you lay down on the sheets. You took a deep breath of the fresh cold air, relaxing your body.

Not long after, your husband joins you. He smiled at you "What do you think, dearest? Think he'll help us?"

"I can tell he's stubborn." you giggled, turning your head towards him.

"Well, Marc Spector is. Steven Grant is... gullible and he'll trust us. You can help gain his trust. You're always the convincing one." His finger boops the tip of your nose before he cups your face with both of his hands.

"If that's what you think best, my love."

He pressed a kiss against your temple "We must rest for tomorrow. You'll keep him company, won't you?"

"I will."

The next day, you dressed in your usual white dress and prepared to welcome Steven to your little town. While Arthur was off doing whatever he does, you stopped by the little cottage Steven was given for last night.

You knocked on the door and patiently waited with a soft smile until he eventually opened it.

"Good morning." you said "I brought you bread. As a welcome."

"Uh, thank you." he nods.

"May I come in?"

"Yeah, go ahead." his British accent was gone, you noticed. You blinked twice before smiling "Marc Spector?"

"Yeah." he opens the door wider "Come in."

"Okay." were you a little scared that it was Marc? Yes. Steven seemed nicer than how Arthur first described Marc to you, but now you were faced with Marc himself.

"My husband wanted me to give you a warm welcome. He has some duties today so he sent me in his place. Did you sleep well?"

"Not bad." he shook his head.

"Good to hear." you nodded "You must be starving-"

"What do you want?" Marc asked you, staring into your eyes.

Your mouth was hung open before you took a deep breath in "I just... want to welcome you. It might be just a visit but I wanted to make you comfortable..."

"Nothing about this whole... thing..." he waved his hand "...is comfortable."

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Listen. You can leave. I'll tell Harrow that you did welcome me, and whatever. Just leave." he walks towards you, making you back up against the wall.

"I'm not very fond of lying to my husband..."

"Then keep a secret. Now, leave." Marc points to the door "Thanks for the bread. Now, go."

You felt butterflies in your stomach. You've never felt this way before. But something about this... situation, is making you extremely-

"Go."

"Y-Yes..." you stuttered as you kept eye contact with him. You slowly made your way to the door before walking outside.

Your legs were like jello. You felt an unfamiliar sensation down there, your... core. You gulped before walking back to the town and rushing into your house, running up the stairs. It confused Arthur who had just come home.

You hiked up your skirt when you reached the bathroom and sat on the toilet. You had thought you were on your period— but you weren't.

But clear substance coated your folds. You've never touched it before but you were curious, taking a finger and dipping it inside.

"No... it's a sin..." you quickly pulled your hand away "I mustn't...." you whisper.

You washed your hands and quickly fixed your dress. But the burning sensation in your core never stopped.

That night, you lay in bed alone, your breasts were warm as you placed your palm to feel your heartbeat.

Marc was just so intimidating. The way he looked at you made you feel things you've never felt before.

The way he towered over you, the way he stared at you, and the way he spoke to you...

Your hand was in between your legs again.

You let out a gasp before pulling your hand away and sitting up. Your heartbeat raced and your face heated up, feeling your soaked cotton panties.

Just as you clasped your hands for a prayer, you heard a click from the window, making you snap your head towards it.

The moon shines from behind the white curtain and suddenly the windows slammed open, the cold air hitting your face.

You shivered and covered your eyes from the bright moon before getting out of bed, the soles of your feet touching the cold wooden floor. You made your way to the window to close it.

Until you felt a warm breath against the nape of your neck.

It sent goosebumps down your spine and you turned to find

"Marc?"

His stare was hypnotic. You didn't even notice that he was walking closer to you, trapping you against the window.

He lifted your chin upwards to look at you closer, his thumb grazing over your bottom lip. You quivered from under his touch as you fully surrendered yourself to him.

It wasn't right, but Gods did it feel right.

You shot up from the bed, beads of sweat falling down your delicate skin. Arthur was sleeping peacefully beside you and you quickly snapped your head up towards the window to find it closed.

You slipped out of the bed and grabbed a robe before leaving the house, off to see Marc in the cabin.

You didn't even knock.

"Marc?"

His door was wide open and he looked like he was just about to leave. He locked eyes with you "What're you doing here?"

You played with your fingers as you looked down "I-I know some of the townsfolk won't tell me anything about my uh... problems... but I've just been wanting some answers from someone who knows the outside world."

"What do you mean?"

"This morning." you immediately replied "You made me feel something. I don't understand what it was..."

Marc stood silent as he scanned your face. You looked clueless.

"Come in."

The cabin was dark, but moonlight peeked from the curtains. You sat on his bed and you kept eye contact with him, waiting for him to make a move. You weren't sure what but anything would satisfy you just to break the silence.

"How exactly did I make you feel?" Marc slowly approached you on the bed "Tell me.”

You hesitated. You struggled to get the word out, until finally “A-Aroused." It made you feel dirty, unclean, unworthy of your godly husband "I must go, this was a terrible idea-"

Just as you stood up, Marc grabbed your wrist, but he was gentle "Sit back down."

All you could do was stare up at him as you sat back down at his command.

A mischievous smirk curls on Marc's lips as he hears your admission. He pulled back slightly to meet your eyes, his gaze was intense and filled with desire.

"Aroused, huh? Well, well, looks like you aren't as pure as I thought." he says "Tell me, what specifically got you all hot and bothered?" his fingers toy with the tie around your robe, teasingly brushing against the exposed silk of your nightgown.

"I want to know every little detail that got you all worked up. Don't hold back now. I want to help you." truth be told, he already knew.

His other hand cupped your cheek, making your breath hitch as you melted into his warm touch.

"Help me..." you mindlessly repeated. Marc leans in, claiming your lips in a deep hungry kiss.

"Tell me, what do you need from me?" he whispered against your lips.

"I need you..."

Marc hikes up your nightgown, holding your thighs as he knelt. He dips his head towards your core while spreading your legs apart. He could smell your essence from the wet patch of your cotton panties

He trails teasing kisses along your inner thighs, his lips tantalizingly close to where you need him most.

His hands slide up your body, gripping your hips possessively as he positions himself to give you the pleasure you crave. And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, his tongue makes contact with your throbbing clit.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You gripped the sheets when you felt the sudden pleasure on your sensitive bud “W-Wait…” but you didn't want him to stop.

Marc's mouth works expertly, his lips and tongue exploring every sensitive inch, flicking and teasing with precision. His voice is a seductive melody as he speaks against your skin.

"You taste so good..." he murmurs, looking up at you.

As the pressure builds, Marc's pace quickens, his mouth working fast, driven by the desire to bring you to the edge. He listens to your moans, your gasps, your pleas, adjusting his movements to match your rhythm and intensity.

And as your stomach twisted, Marc's doesn't let up. His tongue flicks over your sensitive clit and went back to dip in between your folds, leaving you trembling and gasping for breath.

“Marc…” you whined out a string of incomprehensible words. Marc then lets you wrap your legs around his head, letting him go deeper.

Marc continues to lap at your sensitive flesh, prolonging your release, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. He revels in the way your body shuddered, your moans of ecstasy echoing through the room.

“O-Oh, I… Marc…” your toes curled and you let out a loud moan as you reached your orgasm.

Marc slowly withdraws, his lips leaving a trail of lingering kisses along your inner thighs. He rises to his feet, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“T-This is a sin…”

“It’s normal. Everyone does it.” he licks his lips clean of you before cupping your face and pressing a kiss on your lips “You’ve never done this before, huh?”

“No…” you shook your head.

“Not even with your husband?” he raises an eyebrow.

“He said it wasn't necessary.”

“That’s a lie, you know? You’ve never experienced pleasure— sex.” Marc’s other hand slides down to hold your breast “I can show you how it feels.”

“But my husband-”

“He won’t know a thing.”

He had you wrapped around his finger. You slowly nodded as you lay down on the bed, his hand guiding you.

His hands find their way to your hips, his touch possessive yet gentle as he got on top of you.

"I’ll go slow." he whispers, his voice gentle and assuring, making your body relax.

Marc pulls down his sweatpants, taking out his already-hardened cock. He positions himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

And then, with a slow thrust, he enters you, filling you. A moan escapes his lips as he relishes the sensation of being inside you. You let out a gasp as his cock overwhelmed you.

"Fuck, you feel so good…” he groans, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and desire. "You're so tight, so perfect.”

He started with slow, painfully slow thrusts. Marc let you adjust to his girth and kissed you to ease the new sensation “That’s it… good girl…”

As the pace quickens, Marc's grip tightens on your hips. With each thrust, his cock massaged your walls, and he guides you towards ecstasy.

Marc’s thrusts become more relentless as you let him go faster. His breath was hot against your skin while he drove you both toward a mind-shattering climax. He talks you through it while hitting your g-spot “That’s a good girl…”

And when the release finally crashes over you, Marc continues to move to stuff his cum inside of you, prolonging your pleasure and drawing out every last sensation. He revels in the way your body quivers beneath him, your moans filling the air.

As the waves of pleasure subside, Marc eases his movements, his touch becoming more gentle and tender. He presses soft kisses against your lips “You can keep a secret, right?”

“Yes…” you nodded, a bit hazy from the pleasure “I’ll keep a secret…”

“Good girl.” Marc praised you as he wiped off the sweat from your forehead “Now, do you know where the Scarab is?”

[gatorbites-imagines]

Masterlist 2

Emoji Guide

Dark themes = 🖤

Smut = ❤️

Find Masterlist 1 here

Marvel

-Steve Rogers

Steve Rogers and his 200 year old partner who he calls daddy (mild ❤️ mentions)

Steve Rogers and his 200 year old partner, ft Logan Howlett, threesome( ❤️)

Steve Rogers x male reader with a choking kink (mild ❤️)

-Moon knight

The moonboys with a male reader whos a stoic tall history teacher

The moonboys (mainly Steven) watching horror movies with alien male reader

The moonboys with a lover who has C-PTSD

The moonboys with omegaverse, with a beta reader.

Moonboys and Khonshu with a touch starved reader

Moonboys with a summer-like reader

-Namor/kukulkan

“Clipped wings” Part 1 Namor x mutant reader

-Eddie Brock(and venom)

Eddie and Venom with a ftm reader

-Andrew Garfield (tasm) Peter Parker

Peter Parker x deadpool male reader

-Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Logan x cyclops variant male reader, post deadpool 3

Logan x Gambit variant male reader, with daddy kink (mild ❤️)

Logan being desperate for male reader, ft some consensual somno❤️

Sub Logan being desperate for praise and affection

-Remy Lebeau/The Gambit

Remy Lebeau x sea monster mutant male reader

Remy Lebeau and his Cajun childhood sweetheart.

-Multiple

Logan and Wade having a brat off and sub bottoming for a cable variant male reader ❤️

Scott, Kurt, Remy, Bobby and Logan with a reader that likes to crochet

Spiderverse

-Miguel O’Hara

Miguel O’Hara scent/sweat smut drabble❤️

-Peter B Parker

Peter B Parker with a narcoleptic boyfriend

-Hobie Brown

Hobie Brown with a boyfriend whos a juggalo and a fellow spiderman

Hobie Brown sfw alphabet

Hobie Brown nsfw alphabet ❤️

Hobie Brown x deadpool male reader

Hobie brown x lead guitarist male reader

Hobie Brown x Male reader whos spiderman and the son of Miguel from another dimension

Hobie Brown x insecure male reader

-Pavitr Prabhakar

Pavitr Prabhakar sfw alphabet

-Peter Benjamin Parker/Spidernoir

Spidernoir with a ftm reader

Spidernoir with a lover who keeps touching his web slit/spinnerette ❤️(a little bit)

-Ben Reilly

Ben Reilly is in spider heat and wants nothing more than for you to dominate him ❤️

-Multiple

Miles and Prowler Miles with a black cat reader whos in love with miles, and is dead in earth-42.

Relationship headcanons for Miles Morales, Miguel O'hara and Hobie Brown.

Platonic/parental headcanons for Peter B and Miguel with a spiderman male reader whos very protective

DC

-Bruce Wayne

Bruce Wayne x male reader cuddling and edging, drabble ❤️

Bruce Wayne x male reader, meeting the family

-Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson x male reader whos a dancer and hero

Dick Grayson x powered male reader whos the son of oliver queen

Dick Grayson x clarks son reader, who are hopelessly in love.

Dick Grayson x Rogue doctor male reader

-Jason Todd

Jason having a depressive episode and the reader takes care of him, so he goes into subspace ❤️

Jason todd x older vigilante male reader, part two (little bit of  ❤️)

Jason Todd x snobby rich male reader with brat taming ❤️

Jason Todd x ftm reader, going to pride, and Jason beating up a transphobe

Jason Todd x ftm reader, slow mornings with their two cats

-Tim Drake

Tim Drake x ftm reader, ft cuddling and homemade coffee

Tim Drake x flirty son of Trigon male reader, whos a sorcerer vigilante

Tim Drake x autistic male reader, where they mirror eachother, ft the batfams reaction to that

Being Tim Drakes boyfriend and his family is protective of him

Tim Drake x male reader, pulling all nighters and falling asleep

Tim Drake x older male reader

-Damian Wayne

Platonic Damian with a Alien reader who pretty much adopts him

-Wally West

Wally West with an autistic male reader

FTM Wally West x Male reader with Wally being eaten out drabble❤️

-Barry Allen

Barry Allen x cat burglar male reader

Barry Allen x alien male reader whos culture roughhouses

-Eobard Thawne

Eobard Thawne with a male reader whos just a normal guy.

-Roy Harper

Roy Harper with a villain male reader

-Clark Kent/Kal-el

Clark Kent being flirted with by a rich male reader, instead of reader flirting with Lois

Clark Kent with a kryptonian partner, featuring scent kink and kryptonian words ❤️

Clark Kent just needing a good cuddle after a long day

-Conner Kent/Kon-El

Conner Kent with a male reader, featuring kryptonian headcanons ❤️(a little)

Conner Kent with a male reader whos culture is similar to kryptonians and who purrs

Conner Kent with a male reader whos stoic around everyone, but cocky and smug with him

Conner Kent with a male reader whos a clone of plastic man.

-Hal Jordan

Hal Jordan x Red Lantern Czarnian male reader (slight  ❤️)

Hal Jordan x male reader, with a scent/musk kink ❤️

-Guy Gardner

Guy Gardner relationship headcanons

Guy Gardner nsfw alphabet ❤️

Guy Gardner trying to top fellow lantern reader, but being dominated ❤️

Guy Gardner being put in subspace by his star sapphire lover, with sounding ❤️

-John Constantine

Constantine nsfw alphabet ❤️

Constantine with a male reader whos like Dean Winchester from Supernatural

Constantine x tattoo artist male reader (mild ❤️)

Constantine x Angel male reader

- Patrick “Eel” O’Brian

Patrick “Eel” O’Brian sfw alphabet

-Harvey Dent/Two-Face

Harvey Dent with a male reader who distracts him during work

Harvey Dent/Two-Face cuddle fluff

-Bane

Bane x FTM reader general headcanons

More Bane x FTM reader fluffy headcanons

-Minhkhoa Khan/Ghostmaker

Minhkhoa Khan relationship headcanons

-Multiple

Yandere Jason x speedster male reader x Yandere Dick

Yandere Jason x speedster male reader x Yandere Dick part 2 🖤

Batboys with a villain reader who constantly flirts with them

DC characters and my personal headcanons for them (ethnicity, gender, etc)

Martian Headcanons

Kryptonian Headcanons

Dick grayson x Wally West x male reader

Platonic batfam with a kid reader whos a clone of jason, raised by the Joker

Platonic Batfam with a sick vigilante male reader who wont rest

Invincible

-Nolan Grayson/Omni-man

Nolan Grayson nsfw alphabet ❤️

-Mark Grayson/Invincible

Mark Grayson Yandere Alphabet 🖤

Mark Grayson nsfw Alphabet ❤️

Mark Grayson x constantine-like male reader

-Rex Sloan/Rex Splode

Rex x gcn ftm reader and defending them when they get misgendered

-The Immortal

The Immortal x immortal reader who isnt a hero

-Flaxan leader

Flaxan leader with an anti-hero male reader

-Damien Darkblood

Damien Darkblood x detective male reader, wholesome fluff

-Multiple

Nolan and Allen x small but strong ftm reader

Star Wars

-Anakin Skywalker

Padawan Anakin Skywalker x dark side leaning male reader

Anakin Skywalker x mandalorian reader with cockwarming ❤️

Anakin Skywalker flirting with the reader and making out

-Paz Vizsla

Paz Vizsla x sith male reader, ft Darth Revan and lots of headcanons

Paz Vizsla x ftm reader headcanons

-Din Djarin

Din Djarin adopting a foundling pantoran reader and being a father figure.

FTM Din Djarin getting eaten out in his pilot seat with his armor on ❤️

-Boba Fett

Boba Fett x male reader with gunplay❤️

The Boys

-Billy Butcher

Billy Butcher x male reader whos Homelanders brother

DomBot Billy Butcher x SubTop supe reader ❤️

-Homelander/John Gillman

Homelander x supe male reader whos much more powerful than him ❤️

Homelander dating a ftm reader

Homelander with a partner with self harm scars

-The Deep/Kevin Moskowitz

The Deep x male reader where he gets off just having his gills played with ❤️

-Multiple

A-Train, MM, Frenchie and Hughie as boyfriends, headcanons

Slashers

-Jason Voorhees

Jason with a male reader whos childhood friends who meet again years later

Jason Voorhees nsfw alphabet ❤️

-Chad Martin-Meeks

Chad with a male reader who grew up together and fell in love.

-Billy Lenz

Billy Lenz with somnophilia ❤️(🖤 cuz theres no explicit consent)

-Poly Ghostface

Billy and Stu with a male reader who has anger issues whos tired of being angry

Billy and Stu comforting their lover who has body dysmorphia

-Multiple

Norman, Patrick, Michael, Jason, Brahms, Billy and Stu with an S/O whos as crazy as them without realizing

One Piece

-Donquixote Doflamingo

Doflamingo with a lover whos shorter than him

Yandere Doflamingo with a male reader who gets stockholm syndrome ❤️(🖤 a bit, cuz yandere)

Doflamingo x young adult male reader with back pains

-Sir Crocodile

Ftm Sir Crocodile being fucked into submission by the reader ❤️

-Dracule Mihawk

FTM dracule mihawk x service top male reader ❤️

-Red Haired Shanks

Shanks x martial artist male reader whos love language is physical affection and words of affirmation

-Trafalgar D Water Law

Law being Bratty and being punished by a bigger Zoan fruit male reader ❤️

Law with a tall intimidating male reader who everyone thinks is the top (mild  ❤️)

-Vinsmoke/Black Leg Sanji

Sanji being tied up and desperate to touch the reader ❤️

Reader spanking Sanji to let off some steam ❤️

-Roronoa Zoro

Reader punishing/spanking Zoro, but it ends up with them arguing, but making up❤️

-Edward “Whitebeard” Newgate

Whitebeard with a tall male reader whos never been shorter than anyone before ❤️

-Smoker the white hunter

Smoker SFW alphabet

-multiple

Roronoa Zoro and Portgas D Ace and sounding ❤️

Teen Wolf

-Jackson Whittmore

overall Jackson Whittmore nsfw headcanons ❤️

-Scott McCall

Bottom Scott McCall x kanima-werewolf male reader, ft some tailplay ❤️

Rick and Morty

-Rick Sanchez

Yandere Rick Prime headcanons 🖤

Ovetime

-Josiah Nguyen

Yandere Josiah headcanons 🖤

Call of Duty

-Simon “Ghost” Riley

Ghost being secretly married to Soaps brother

Ftm Ghost x male reader smut drabble ❤️

-Kyle “Gaz” Garrick 

Ftm Gaz x male reader, pussydrunk reader with overstim, drabble ❤️

-Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

Dom rudy headcanons along with a few cute ones ❤️

-Phillip Graves

Graves with a male reader whos gone through a near death experience

Graves with a vampire boyfriend

-Multiple

141 with a male reader who wears a lot of dog tags

Poly Alerudy with a male reader whos childhood best friends and post lovers with Soap

Cod boys with a male reader who wears a mask and has a huge burn scar

Cod boys with a reader who repeats words or phrases they say

Poly alerudy with a short male reader

Alejandro and Graves with a reader who rubs their face against their stubble

Poly alerudy with a tall male reader who is basically a giant cat

Alejandro, Rudy, Graves and Soap with a reader whos create as copying noises

Ghost, Soap, Alejandro, Rudy, and König with a reader whos a famous volleyball player

Alejandro and Rudy with a mute s/o

141 with an autistic reader who makes noises, like meowing and hissing

Soap, Gaz, Ghost, Roach and Graves as pups with petplay❤️

Alejandro and Rudy taking care of their sick and hurt lover

Lookism

-Multiple

Lookism characters with a male reader who has a squishable chest and butt

Barbie (2023)

-Kenneth “Ken” Sean Carson

Ken x male reader drabble, where Ken gives the reader head and has a praise kink ❤️

Stereotypical Ken x Male reader x Pompadour Ken where they compete whos best ❤️

Baldurs Gate 3

-Astarion Ancunín

Astarion with a Bard Tiefling male reader, random headcanons

Fight Club

Jack/The Narrator

Jack x medical staff male reader (drabble, from jacks pov)

-multiple

Tyler Durden and Jack “The narrator” throuple relationship headcanons

Scott Pilgrim Takes off

-Todd Ingram

Helping Todd Ingram get over his crush on Wallace and it leads to make outs.

-Stephen Stills

Stephen Stills x male reader meeting in a club ❤️

My Hero Academia

-Enji Todoroki/Endeavor

Reformed Enji with a hero male reader whos very flirty when they are on patrol

-Katsuki Bakugou

Katsuki being self-conscious about wearing lingerie (mild  ❤️)

Omega Katsuki helping his ace Alpha partner through their rut

-Tomura Shigaraki

Pre-war Shigaraki with his lover whos vaguely based off Yaga from JJK and their relationship.

Jujutsu Kaisen

-Nanami Kento

Nanami giving dom/top reader aftercare (mild  ❤️)

-Ryomen Sukuna

Chubby heian era/true form sukuna x chubby ftm reader, sweet and cuddly hc

[anonymousewrites]

Burden of Truth (Book 1) Chapter Ten

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Reader

Chapter Ten: Into the Tunnels

Summary: (Y/N), Marc, and Layla find their way into Ammit's tomb and begin their trek through the maze.

            Layla closed her eyes against the explosion of the jeep. Her trap had worked, and Harrow’s men went up in a cloud of flares and smoke. She blinked and surveyed the damage as the light faded.

            “Whoa.”

            Layla looked back. Steven was staring in awe at the destruction she’d caused. (Y/N) still lay unconscious in the sand where she rolled them (and Steven) down the dunes.

            She coughed awkwardly. “Help me get them into the jeep.”

            “Right,” said Steven.

            Layla opened the door of the jeep, and Steven scooped (Y/N) up like a child. Gazing at them worriedly, he gently put them down in the backseat.

            “Do you think they’re going to be alright?” said Steven.

            “They’re a tough kid,” said Layla. “And we’re here to help them. We’ll make sure they’re fine.”

l

            (Y/N)’s eyes opened as the warmth of sunlight hit their skin. Groaning and blinking, they sat up.

            “What happened?” they asked.

            “We got the location. We’re heading there now,” said Layla, glancing into the rearview mirror.

            “No, what happened?” said (Y/N), looking at Steven.

            “Khonshu and Ma’at are gone,” he said. “We’re on our own.”

            (Y/N) flinched at the truth. What they’d seen before they collapsed came back to their mind, racing like an onslaught of nightmares. Ma’at was gone. The one constant they’d had since their parents’ death had been taken from them, too.

            “Right,” they said.

            “But we’re not stopping,” said Layla. “We can’t lose more time. Harrow must be headed back to the tomb from Cairo.” She cleared her throat uncomfortably and looked at Steven. “And, look, if he is, we’re gonna need Marc, yeah?”

            “Exactly,” said Marc, and Steven glanced at the side mirror. “See, she gets it.”

            “No,” said Steven.

            “No?” said Layla in surprise.

            “Steven, neither of us can fight without Ma’at or Khonshu,” said (Y/N) worriedly, pulling the ends of their sleeves.

            “No,” repeated Steven. “See, the thing is, we made a deal, Marc and I, that when he was done with Khonshu he would disappear for good.”

            Truth. Disappointment settled into (Y/N)’s gut. They didn’t want Steven or Marc to leave.

            But once this is over, you have to leave anyways. Why would they want you to stick around? You’re nothing to them.

            (Y/N) pushed the thought away and tried to focus on the issue at hand.

            “But that deal didn’t involve you getting Layla, (Y/N), and us killed, did it?” said Marc. “That’s not gonna fly with me. And (Y/N) can’t put up with that, either, right?”

            He looked out from the side mirror at (Y/N), but they made no indication they heard him. Marc’s eyes widened. Without Ma’at’s ability to see the truth, (Y/N) couldn’t hear him. They could only hear Steven or Marc when they were fronting.

            “You made a deal?” Words cold, Layla looked at Steven. “That he would just disappear from his life? And you didn’t think that maybe I should’ve been made aware of that?”

            Steven shifted uncomfortably. “…Hadn’t he already disappeared from your life?”

            Layla gripped the steering wheel in frustration. “Yeah. I mean, whatever. His suit was his best feature, wasn’t it? Doesn’t even have that anymore.”

            “Steven, give me the body right now. This is a suicide mission,” said Marc urgently.

            Steven didn’t respond as Layla continued, “Plus, I know him. He’d wanna lone wolf this whole thing. It’s not happening. We’re not gonna do that.”

            “Steven, please. You’re going to get Layla killed. You’re going to get (Y/N) killed.” Marc’s jaw tensed. “I can’t let that happen. We can’t let that happen.”

            Steven looked away to smile at Layla and (Y/N). Instead of addressing anything Marc said, he just gazed at the two people he’d come to care for gently. “We are not. It’s just you, me, (Y/N), and the open road.” He looked back at (Y/N) and smiled. “Are you alright?”

            (Y/N) couldn’t open their mouth without saying no. Anything else would be a lie. They had no Ma’at. No abilities. No family. No purpose. (Y/N) had become nothing.

            “I’m…I’m going to be a liability,” said (Y/N) softly.

            “No, we’re going to need a translator,” said Layla encouragingly. “Fighting is the more useless skill when we need to figure things out.”

            “I can’t translate without Ma’at,” said (Y/N).

            “You can remember, though, right?” said Steven, looking at them.

            They shifted and kept their eyes on the ground. “What do you mean?”

            “Well, languages are about patterns, and if you recognize parts of what you translated with Ma’at many times, then maybe you’ll see and understand more than you think,” said Steven. He smiled, reached back, and patted (Y/N)’s knees. “You’re strong, (Y/N). You’re not a liability.”

            Raising their eyes, (Y/N) looked into Steven’s. Their heart clenched at something so familiar yet faraway in his eyes. “…I’ll try,” said (Y/N), sitting up straighter. “I don’t want to be useless.”

            “I think the only useless one is Steven since he got thrown into this like three days ago,” joked Layla, helping Steven cheer (Y/N) up. “And even he’s doing alright at times.”

            (Y/N) looked between the two, and a bit of warmth gathered in the chest. Odd. They hadn’t felt that in a long time.

            In the side mirror, Marc’s brow creased in frustration and worry. Steven was refusing to let him fight. He was taking Layla right to where Harrow and Ammit were. He was even bringing (Y/N), a now-defenseless teen, and risking their death.

            Marc didn’t want any of them to get hurt. He wouldn’t be able to stand it.

l

            Eventually, the road hit a dead end, and Layla, (Y/N), and Steven got out of the jeep to continue on foot. Before them rose cliffs of red, contrasting starkly against the sky. A tiny sliver in the rock would serve as their path, and (Y/N), Steven, and Layla set out before any more time could be lost.

            Animals and birds looked down on them as they went, but the three people kept going. Even when they emerged from the shadows and onto the desert plains, they persevered. The sun beat down on them, but none of the trio backed down. They knew what needed to be done.

            Cresting a hill, Layla paused. “There they are.”

            Harrow’s encampment, having approached from another direction, stood with jeeps and tents in front of a cavern.

            “Let’s keep moving,” said Layla, leading the way down towards it. “It looks like they’re already inside. We’ll need to find another way to beat them to Ammit.”

            Once they arrived at the camp, they found no sign of people. Everyone had seemingly go in search of Ammit. At least that meant (Y/N), Steven, and Layla could go through without worrying about being seen.

            “Let’s check for supplies,” suggested Layla.

            “I’ll find more water,” said (Y/N). Harrow had to have stored some here.

            “I’ll find tools, if I can,” said Steven.

            The three split up.

            Inside one tent, as Steven shoved tools into his backpack, Marc’s reflection on the table spoke to him.

            “You look scared,” he said.

            “I’m not,” said Steven, but that was a lie.

            “You should be,” said Marc. “Without Khonshu, there’s no more suit, no more healing, no more power.”

            “Yeah, no more you, I thought,” said Steven. “It’s what you said, innit? But believing anything that comes out of your mouth just shows what a plonker I am.”

            “Look, I wish I could disappear, I really do,” said Marc. “But unfortunately, I’m still here. If you’re going to go through with this, you gotta be smart, for Layla and (Y/N)’s sakes.” Steven paused. “I’ve been in situations like this before.”

            “So have I. It’s the same body, innit?” said Steven. “It’s in there somewhere. Muscle memory and that.”

            “I’m not sure it works like that,” snarked Marc. “Just—”

            “Whatever,” said Steven, turning away.

            “I’m here,” said Marc. “You’re not alone.”

            “I know I’m not alone! I know I’m bloody not alone. I’ve got Layla and (Y/N),” said Steven. “They’re got my back.”

            “Do you love Layla?” said Marc, furrowing his brow. “Are you in love with my wife?”

            “I appreciate your concern, mate, I really do. But we’ve got it from here,” said Steven. “And I’ll protect Layla and (Y/N). I care about them just like you do.”

            “Steven!” said Marc as Steven walked out of the room.

            “If I need a recipe for a protein shake or something, I’ll call you,” said Steven coldly.

l

            Layla laced up the climbing gear around (Y/N). “Does it feel secure enough?”

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), nodding.

            “Good,” said Layla, turning and repeating her actions with Steven.

            “I have to say, I feel like I’ve been waiting for this my whole life,” said Steven. “The adventure, I mean.”

            Layla smiled. “I know. We want what we never had.”

            “Yeah,” said Steven.

            “I thought you would’ve had enough with adventure by now,” said (Y/N).

            “Well, I don’t like the Harrow parts, but I like the pyramids and Egyptian history,” said Steven as Layla finished. For a moment, they were face-to-face, and they looked at each other curiously.

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow. They were bad with interpersonal relationships, but there was something going on there. It reminded them of the way Layla and Marc looked at each other when they weren’t fighting. It reminded them of the way their parents had looked at each other.

            “Right,” said Layla awkwardly, chuckling slightly and looking away. For a moment, she nearly leaned in, but Steven stepped back.

            “Marc’s trying to protect you from Khonshu,” said Steven suddenly, the sudden guilt of kissing someone’s else’s wife (as odd as the situation was) keeping him from going through with it, no matter how much he liked Layla.

            (Y/N) had looked pointedly away as Layla stepped in (they weren’t sure how they were supposed to react in such a situation), but upon hearing Steven’s words, they looked back.

            “What?” said Layla in confusion.

            “That’s why he’s been pushing you away, he said,” said Steven. “He thinks Khonshu wants you for his Avatar, and he won’t let that happen.”

            (Y/N)’s gaze softened. Marc was gruff, but, apparently, obviously, he cared about Layla.

            “I just felt like you should know that,” said Steven quietly. He really liked Layla, but he was also honorable. Layla deserved to know that for all Marc’s flaws, he did care.

            Layla looked away and cleared her throat.

            “Here,” said (Y/N), holding out a rope to her to descend into the caverns. They also hoped to end this situation that they knew was awkward and had no idea how to deal with.

            “Why are you telling me this now?” said Layla, looking at Steven.

            “I don’t know.”

            Lie.

            “I just thought you deserved to know.”

            Truth.

            “Well, it wasn’t his call to make,” said Layla.

            “You don’t want to be an Avatar,” said (Y/N).

            Layla and Steven looked at them.

            “I know some gods are kinder than others, but there’s a weight. After years, you can forget who you are outside of being an Avatar,” said (Y/N) as they absently fiddled with the rope in their hands. They paused. “I don’t think I know what I used to do, what I used to like, who I used to be before being an Avatar.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes burned, and they blinked away the sensation. Their entire body suddenly felt so heavy as so many thoughts and feelings appeared they’d never had to confront since they just did the same thing every day, never having to think of their own life, just following orders, moving on autopilot with no thought of their past.

            (Y/N) looked up at Layla. “If a god asks you to be their Avatar…be sure of your answer.”

            “(Y/N)…” Layla frowned, and she and Steven exchanged a glance. (Y/N) barely spoke so much in one go since they could only tell the truth, and that meant uncomfortable thoughts came out. So to see the pain suddenly seize the teenager, so alone for so long, it made Steven and Layla want to pull them close and try to protect them from what the world had done.

            “Let’s go,” said (Y/N), turning to the cavern and counting their fingers in a calming, repetitive manner for a second.

            “Right,” said Layla, deciding not to press. She focused on the task at hand. “It’s time to belay.” She attached everyone’s ropes securely and stepped up in front of the giant hole leading into the earth. She jumped.

            Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) leapt out and fell down into the tomb of Ammit. The wind rushed by them, and they held onto the rope as it unfurled above them. They pushed off the wall as they swung nearer, making their way down until they reached the sandy earth below. (Y/N) removed the harness and stepped out of the way as Steven careened down after them (much less gracefully).

            He groaned as he rolled over in the dust. A slight bruise was on his nose, and (Y/N) furrowed their brow. He hadn’t hit his head, had he? (No, Marc got control of their arm and punched Steven for trying to kiss Layla, but who was going to guess that?)

            “Are you okay?” said Layla, helping him up.

            “I’m aces, yeah,” groaned Steven. “Wish no one had seen that, though.”

            “I crashed through a window the first time I rappelled down a building,” said (Y/N) encouragingly. “I got a scar on my arm from a piece of glass.”

            Layla glanced at them in concern, and, in hindsight, maybe that last piece of information wasn’t helpful. (Y/N) was confused. Were they supposed to be able to judge what people thought was encouraging?

            “Wow, look at you,” said Steven, staring around at the tunnel they found themselves in. A giant statue of a face looked out from a wall, and he gazed in awe at it.

            “Oh, yeah, gorgeous, aren’t they?” said Layla. “They’re just…”

            “They’ve been here for centuries, just standing guard. And now we’re with them,” said (Y/N).

            “Right,” said Layla, smiling fondly.

            “I can’t even…” Steven literally couldn’t even finish a thought as he stared with a dumb smile on his face. “Like, if they just sprang to life right now and asked me a riddle for passage, I’d be thrilled. I’d shit myself, but I’d be thrilled.”

            (Y/N) chuckled at Steven’s enthusiasm. It was nice for someone to be so happy and excited.

            “What’s this?” said Steven, looking at a mark in the sand. “Did one of you do that?”

            Layla looked back. “Oh. Yeah. It’s for my father. He would’ve loved to be here.”

            “Oh, yeah, big history buff, is he?” said Steven.

            (Y/N)’s gaze remained glued to the mark. It was…familiar. If (Y/N) could just focus hard enough, maybe they could remember it’s meaning. (Not be useless, useless, useless).

            “So much worse. Archaeologist on a mission,” said Layla.

            “My parents were an archaeologist and anthropologist,” said (Y/N), smiling slightly despite the pressure in their lungs as they spoke.

            “So cool,” said Steven, so honestly it made the constricting pressure in (Y/N)’s chest dissipate as pride took over their feelings.

            Yes. (Y/N)’s parents had been cool.

            “To my dad, his dream was one worth dying for,” said Layla, reminiscing fondly as she stared walking farther into the tunnels. Her gaze turned melancholy. “And he did.”

            “I’m sorry,” said (Y/N), quietly.

            “Yeah. Really,” said Steven.

            “Yeah, no, it’s fine,” said Layla, brushing it off. “We all lose parents eventually.”

            “I bet that he’d be positively beaming right now, seeing you standing in the proof of his dream,” said Steven, smiling.

            Layla laughed slightly. “Yeah. I think so.”

            Steven turned his warm smile on (Y/N). “And I’m sure your parents are super proud of how far you’ve come.”

            (Y/N) looked around themself at the discovery their parents would have loved to explore and learn from. “I hope so.”

            They really hoped someone was proud of them.

l

            As (Y/N), Steven, and Layla walked farther into Ammit’s tomb, they found themselves at a fork in the road. This was the first challenge. They needed to figure out which way was correct and avoid that which was a trap.

            “It’s a maze,” said (Y/N) bluntly.

            “It’s a-maze-ing,” said Steven goofily.

            “No, like, there are six paths,” said Layla, frowning. That was too many options.

            “Right, six points,” said Steven, looking at them.

            Layla knelt in the sand and examined bullet casings left behind by Harrow’s men. “What would they be shooting at?” she murmured.

            In the sand of a slab of stone, Steven began to draw. Hovering next to him, (Y/N) observed his work. He drew the eye of Horus and looked up.

            “This whole structure is a symbol,” explained Steven.

            “The eye of Horus,” identified (Y/N).

            “Yeah,” said Steven. “It’s the royal symbol, protection in the afterlife. I mean, like, the resources needed to build this thing.” He was giddy with excitement.

            “Look,” said (Y/N), nodding to the ceiling.

            Steven’s flashlight had reflected on the surface of the table, not simple stone as they’d assumed. The image of the eye of Horus now shone on the ceiling. Since Steven had drawn it according to the curve of the tunnel they’d come from, it created a map of the paths around them.

            “Ammit’s final Avatar was a pharaoh,” said Layla.

            “Whoa!” exclaimed Steven. “A bloody pharaoh!”

            “Someone with power, just like she’d want,” said (Y/N), nodding. They gestured to the symbol. “Do we think it’s a map?”

            Steven nodded. “And the eye of Horus is also the eye of the mind, right?”

            “Six senses, six points, makes sense,” said (Y/N).

            “Eyebrow is thought,” said Steven, tracing it again. “Pupil, sight, obviously. This point here is, uh, hearing. Smell. Touch. And this long line ending in a spiral is the tongue.”

            “The Avatar would be Ammit’s voice,” said Layla.

            (Y/N) nodded in agreement. “Avatar’s can even channel the deities and literally give them voice. It fits perfectly.”

            Steven looked at the paths. “So, we need…this path.” He stepped forward confidently, and Layla and (Y/N) followed after him.

            One obstacle was overcome.

            As they went, they arrived in a larger chamber. A long table lay across the center, and wooden scaffolding lined one side of it.

            “Oh, wow,” said Steven, looking around.

            “Heka priests,” said Layla, staring in awe at the paintings on the walls. “Judging by their masks and ceremonial stance. They would’ve been entombed in here to protect the pharaoh.”

            “The heck’s a Heka?” said Steven.

            “Sorcerers of their time,” said (Y/N).

            Layla looked at the mummified bodies. “These must be some of the unlucky souls who crossed their path.”

            (Y/N)’s flashlight beam landed on the table, and the red, bloody stains shone fresh in the light. “I think Harrow’s men were some of the unlucky souls.” They shivered as memories of blood and screams and pain came back to them.

            Alarmed, Layla and Steven turned towards them, and they too saw the bloody stone slab.

            “Oh, god, that’s fresh blood,” said Steven, gagging. “Oh, no, nope. Those are chunky meat bits.”

            (Y/N) pointed at bloody embalming jars around the base of the stone slab and made a face. “I think organs are in there.”

            “Oh, god.” Steven turned away, retching.

            “Let’s keep moving,” said Layla firmly.

            “Yeah,” said Steven.

            “Good idea,” said (Y/N).

            “Wait,” said Steven as they approached the next tunnel. “I’m just saying what I see, and I see a lot of blood and bones going that way. So I’m just thinking, like, what if there’s maybe another…” He scanned the room and the scaffolding. “There. There’s an opening up there. You see that?”

            “I see it,” said (Y/N).

            “Should we check it out?” asked Steven.

            “Yeah,” said Layla. “You go. (Y/N), stay between him and me.” Keeping them in the center kept them the most protected. “If you see anything wrong, jump back down. I’ll keep an eye out here.”

            “Right,” said Steven, approaching the wooden structure. He pulled himself up a level awkwardly, and (Y/N) scrambled up behind him. “Alright, yeah, we’re up.”

            “You good?” said Layla.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), giving a thumbs-up as they and Steven moved closer to the opening.

            To distract himself from the weird tools and devices around him, Steven continued rambling about Egyptian history. “So, according to the ancient texts, Ammit should be bound to an ushabti.”

            “That’s what Khonshu and Ma’at are bound to, too, now,” said (Y/N).

            “How’s it looking?” called Layla, trying to keep them focused.

            “It’s looking amazing,” said Steven sarcastically, staring at the bloody mortar and pestle. “I mean, it looks like a freshly filled canopic jar and snake skins and self-regeneration…”

            “We should keep moving,” said (Y/N). They respected the funeral practices and magic of the Egyptians, but it also meant danger for them.

            “Yeah, yeah, right,” said Steven, creeping towards the exit. It was big enough for them and lacked blood. He nodded to (Y/N), and they looked down to Layla.

            “We can go this way,” they said.

            Bang! Bang!

            Gunshots rang out, and Layla, Steven, and (Y/N) jumped.

            “Harrow,” gasped Layla.

            “What are they shooting at?” said Steven.

            “No idea,” said (Y/N).

            Click!

            The sound of someone or something clicking echoed through the tunnel.

            “Hide,” hissed Steven.

            Layla dove behind the surgical table, and Steven pulled (Y/N) down on the scaffolding. The clicking creature came into the chamber and threw a heavy object onto the stone slab. (Y/N) and Steven pulled themselves to the edge and peered down. It was, undoubtedly, a Heka, still protecting the pharaoh’s tomb centuries later. One of Harrow’s men lay bleeding as he was carved open by the priest. Steven nearly retched as organs were pulled and dropped into jars. Layla remained frozen, barely out of the priest’s sight. Carefully, she moved farther to the other side of the slab as the Heka priest grabbed the jars closer to her. She knocked one over, and the thud echoed.

            The Heka priest straightened and clicked questioningly. (Y/N) and Steven’s eyes widened as Layla froze. Unfortunately, she had to keep moving as the priest began to circle the slab. Steven backed up, and the wood creaked.

            The Heka priest whirled and looked up. Steven pulled (Y/N) to him protectively, and they covered their mouths. The priest lunged upwards. It crawled upside down on the wooden slats beneath Steven and (Y/N). Its claws hands reached around the top.

            (Y/N) grabbed his hand and stumbled back. The minute it spotted them properly, it would try to kill them. They need to get away.

            On the ground, Layla grabbed a jar and threw it to the other side of the room. Ducking, she was hidden as it crashed against the wall. The priest stopped its climb and jumped down in anger.

            “Run! It’ll find you!” called Steven, shoving the table above down on the Heka priest.

            Layla ran into the tunnels, and the priest let out an inhuman yowl as the table hit it.

            “I squished it. I squished it,” breathed Steven, not really believing it himself.

            “Come on, come on, run!” said (Y/N). “We don’t know if its dead.” They grabbed his hand and pulled him into the exit.

            “What about Layla?” said Steven.

            “She’s better at this than we are,” said (Y/N). “She’ll survive.” And that was the truth.

Taglist:

@jaytheaceenby

@severussimp

@dmitrytherat

@slytherinroyalty16

@grippleback-galaxy

@alexpangender

@thewittyfanficreader

@aew-kun-age-regression

@oscarissac2099

@amberforest08

@kyalov

@yyourmotherr

@im-making-an-effort

@the-toskaverse

@wra-1-th

[jayke0]

FINISHED THE LEMIRE RUN FINALLY AND I'M CRYING, THEY DID IT!

I didn't realize just how heavily influenced the series was from that run alone, it's 😚👌.

The switching between marc's past, the death of his parent, even fucking ammit being there!! It's awesome I LOVE IT SM, such an amazing read.

Even fucking khonshu saying "do you want death? Or do you want life?" I was like OMG FROM THE THE SHOW.

Idc about any of the runs after this, that ending is the true and canon ending and I'm not changing my mind cuz i need them to have a some what happy ending 🙏🙏.

I highly recommend it to MoonKnight fans, it's a must read!!!.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Didn't Plan On It (AKA, Your Friends Are Assholes)

Khonshu x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, forced marriage (kinda??? You SORT OF consented to it???), hints at sexual stuff, groping, my shitty sense of humor

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Based on this post I got tagged in asdfghjkl (I loosely based Max off a friend of mine 💀)

You loved your friends, but hated them at the same time.

Loved them because they were quirky and weird and matched your energy...

...Hated them because they matched your energy.

A double edged sword, for certain. But at the same time, there's nobody you'd trust more to come to your aid if some creep got up into your personal space. You'd all grown up together, been through everything through thick and thin, even if some of you moved away at some point.

There was Mari, the oldest one in the group by two years. She was like the aunt of the friend group (you were the group mom) who you all could trust to suggest poisoning an ex who did you wrong.

Then, there was Elizabeth "Lizzy", she was the one in the group that alcohol hit the hardest, the lightweight who got cuddly when she was drunk. She did everyone's taxes for them (you know how to do them, she just does them better). Stabbed her ex boyfriend for cheating on her, didn't get any charges pressed (somehow).

There was the other Elizabeth, whom everyone just called "Eli" to avoid confusing her with Lizzy. (Sometimes you all call them #1 and #2) Eli was the most tomboy of the group, her fashion very much stuck in the "grunge" fashion from back in the 90s. 90% of her fashion choice is band merch, she is the one who drives everyone to concerts and manages check-ins at events to make sure everyone is accounted for.

After Mari, Lizzy, and Eli, there was Zoey. Her contact number in everyone's phone is almost always "Zoey 101". The highest IQ out of you all, she was the one who manages passports, IDs, and luggage checks when you take trips together. Has way too much knowledge on the supernatural and the occult.

After the four of them, was Kayla. Kayla was the one who always knew everything about whatever group projects you were all assigned to in school; ask her an obscure fact and she could spit out an atlas or encyclopedia on the subject. Dresses like she's a model on a runway almost every day. Owns 5,000 pairs of feetie pajamas.

And finally, there was Maxwell "Max". You all likened him to Max, Goofy's son, due to how lanky he was. A beautician by trade, always wore flawless makeup when he dressed in drag. Or, just gorgeous in general. Your team's "Gay Avenger" and he watches your drinks at parties like he is a lone sentry between him, a sniper and a platoon of soldiers in the night. Max was the one you knew the longest, you two were born only a few days apart; your parents being best friends even longer. You all made every single one of his drag shows to support him, screaming and cheering the loudest.

Right now, you were at Kayla's house. She was a successful real estate agent and made serious bank; so hosting the bachelorette party in her honor there just made sense. Cheaper, too.

You all had a private party, getting wasted, eating snacks, dressing each other up, holding Lizzy's hair when she puked into the toilet, watching old shitty rom-coms, and letting Max put his best drag looks on all of you. (That was his favorite part of the night, honestly.)

But somehow, inevitably, the occult was brought up. Not by Zoey, but by Mari. She suggested playing with a ouija board.

Kayla had slammed her hands on the table and said, "Hell. No! Not in my house! I'm white, but I'm not horror movie "let's open a magic door and summon a demon" white!"

"Yeah, let's be real. The demon would probably claim Max first." Lizzy grinned, jerking her thumb to the man in question.

Max dramatically clutched his invisible pearls, the gaudy fake tiara crooked in his poofy curls as he gasped incredulously, "Not on the first date, girl! He'd have to put a ring on it, first. I have standards."

"Oh, he'd probably put a ring on something--" Eli snorted into her drink, earning a loud round of chortling from the rest of you.

As the laughter died down, Zoey had said a loud thoughtfully, "Well... there is something I read in my forums recently. A ritual..."

Kayla squinted at her, pointing her manicured nail into her chubby little cheek. "What did I just say about demons?"

"It's not a demon!" Zoey giggled. "It's a god."

"Oh, so instead of a demon, we're gonna summon something possibly even more dangerous?" Mari sighed, raising an eyebrow. "I d'nno how a god would feel about puny mortals like us summoning him from a plane of existence we can't even fathom just to ask him to strip for us."

"Noooo!" Zoey frowned at her as everyone laughed. "It's kind of like a.... fertility rite? Or well, maybe more like some kinda ceremony that's supposed to gain the favor of the god or something. It was discovered by some sort of archaeologist recently in a scroll!"

"A scroll." You deadpan, setting your empty glass of wine in front of you, leaning back on the couch.

"I think I know the scroll you're talking about." Kayla had piped in. "It was found in some recovered temple out in Egypt, right? By one that one world famous professor and historian?"

"Yes! So you know which god I'm talking about, and how he's not dangerous." Zoey nodded excitedly, growing more and more energized at the possibility of playing with magic with all of you.

Kayla tapped her nails on the tabletop, twisting her mouth as she mulled over her options. Deciding that, fuck it, Zoey had a point... it couldn't hurt to end the night with a bang.

"Okay, okay.... let's do it."

"Yessss!" Zoey said, jumping up and bouncing on her feet. She stopped and awkwardly cleared her throat. "Well, er... we kind of need a subject to be the centerpiece, though... the "anchor" of the spell..."

"Wait.... You said a fertility god?" Max squinted, his eyes glimmering cheekily.

"Well, healing, protection, fertility..." Zoey listed off, her voice trailing away.

"Okay okay, but let's focus on the fertility part." He replied. "So odds are.... the anchor of the spell is going to get laid."

"Well... It's a possibility."

"So, who gets to be the lucky anchor?" You asked, tilting your head.

The silence was so loud a mouse could sneeze and you all would have heard it.

And then.... their heads all turned to you, grins spreading on their faces as they all traded conspiratorial looks with one another.

"Oh fuck you." You snap, shaking your head.

"Well, babygirl..." Max leaned in, his arm over your shoulder. "I know for a fact you haven't been laid in a good long while..."

"I have an active sex life!" You retorted, your voice becoming shrill.

"Battery-operated silicone boyfriends don't count." He deadpanned, earning laughter from everyone in the room.

You slump in your seat, pouting like an angry child. "I don't need help getting laid!"

"Well, it's also..." Lizzy said slowly. "The last guy you were with was Troy... and we all know what happened with him."

Your mood soured further at the mention of your highschool sweetheart, the man of your dreams... or so it had appeared. You'd held out on him for a while, finally giving in on prom night and getting a hotel room and having sex with him.

And one day, you decided to drop by his family's house with an early birthday present. ...Only to have caught him in bed with his best friend's mother. He'd been cheating on you with her for almost the entirety of your relationship.

It was after that break-up that you just... didn't want to date. Even if you were lonely, you wouldn't give in because your sense of trust had been betrayed by the guy you were absolutely besotted with.

Eli cleared her throat, "Oh come on. Nothing's gonna happen... it's not like we're gonna sacrifice you on an altar."

"Ugh! Fine! Leave me alone! And when nothing happens you're all paying for my drinks the next time we go bar hopping!" You shouted, throwing your hands up in the air.

Zoey rubbed her hands together, grinning. "Now, then.... let's make a run to that little shop on Malden Street! They're 24 hours and have everything we need!"

You groaned as you got tugged along, Mari the designated driver because she was the only sober one.

Yeah. You hated and loved your friends.

Zoey had begun setting up the altar around the bed in the guest room, finishing it almost too quickly for your liking. Max and Kayla had dolled you all up for your "date", ensuring you looked your best when that god (never) appeared.

Dressed in one of Kayla's black nightgowns and her silk robe, Max had your hair styled "just right" and your makeup "tastefully minimal"--whatever all that meant.

Eli and Lizzy had killed the lights, while Mari cleared the rest of the bedroom for whatever else would occur.

You laid down on the bed as everyone sat in a semicircle around the bed, Zoey standing with a wax candle in hand as she read the spell screenshotted on her phone aloud as best she could in the language it was written.

You laid against the plush pillows, staring at the ceiling in boredom, listening to Zoey drone on and your other friends giggle in anticipation at the stupid middle-school antics they were perpetrating upon you.

Eventually, the room fell silent as Zoey kneeled like the others staring at you with rapt attention, her eyes glittering in excitement.

Only... nothing happened. Not even... well, you weren't sure what magic would feel like if it was cast on you.

"Hah!" You said, lifting your head to look at Zoey, pointing. "I told you nothing would happen--"

Your six friends all fell backwards with startled shouts and shrieks when, in a blur of light... you vanished.

Right in front of them!

"Oh, oh no.... Um... whoops...?" Zoey said, her voice shell shocked and tiny as a bead of sweat dripped down her brow.

Max grabbed Zoey and shook her, "What did you do! What did you do?!"

The moment that flash of light dissipated you hit whatever soft surface you were on with a gasp, almost feeling your lungs squeezed of all air before sucking in much needed oxygen.

You blinked your eyes open, and when they focused on your surroundings... You realized you weren't at Kayla's house anymore. Your friends weren't sitting in their silly ritualistic circle... Zoey wasn't staring at you like a bug under a microscope.

You were... somewhere. The bed you were on was insanely large and round, the sheets a divinely soft texture, almost like the velvet of a moths's wing. A canopy was above you, wafting in an unknown breeze. Marble pillars with beautiful scenes painted on lined the room that was very sparse, save for a table laden with food in the corner.

You swing your legs over the bed and rub your temples.

You were drunk. You were black out drunk and this is all some kind of horrible dream that will cause you migraines with your inevitable hangover in the morning.

Right?

Yeah. Not so lucky.

When your eyes opened once more, you were still in the strange marble room.

You groaned, standing up and shivering as your feet touched the cold stone floors, polished to a fine sheen that reflected the dim torchlight lit on various oil lamps lining the room.

You looked to your side and noticed some kind of balcony, the night sky just beyond.

You frantically ran for it, hoping that maybe you might be able to call down to the street below for help, but... no luck.

Your hands wrapped around the stone banister and your jaw dropped. You weren't met with the night scenery of some kind of city or town, or even a sprawling estate.

Chalky dust, dented with craters and rocks and boulders stretched out beyond your vision's limits. And hovering in the sky where the moon should be, was...

The Earth. A shiny blue-and-green marble that lazily hung in the void of space, one side dimly lit by the sun while the other was black, lights from the cities below dotting it with a golden hue in the shadow of the--the fucking moon.

You were on the fucking moon?!

"How the hell... what..." You said, your heart thudding in your chest as you walked back into the ornate, pale room you'd exited.

Honestly, you were the darkest thing in there, dressed in all black, the silk hanging from your body and clinging to you in all the right places...

How were you breathing? What were you breathing? How were you even alive--

"Well... this is interesting." A deep voice mused from behind you.

You could feel someone looming over you. An oppressive feeling bearing down on you like whoever this was towered beyond your height.

You spun around, swallowing the lump of fear in your chest; but whoever spoke was no longer behind you.

"It's been some time since anyone has performed that ritual." The voice said again, "Though... uour friend should have worded it more carefully. Her mistranslation may cost you more than intended."

You looked towards the balcony, the thin curtains swaying in the breeze-that-should-not-be, a tall, imposing shadow barely showing through the other side.

An impossibly large man. Or... what looked like a man... if it weren't for the silhouette of the bird skull where his head should be.

Fear spread through your body at every leap of your pulse, dreading it as the figure began walking to the edge of the fine drapery. You anticipated some kind of horror show, but... well. You got the opposite.

A man with impeccably tanned skin, dressed only in a gold bejeweled collar and bracers stepped out, his white shendyt wrapped in some sort of sheer cover, his toned waist disappearing beyond, a thin trail of dark hair trailing up to his navel as his bare feet padded silently across the polished floor. On his chest was a crescent moon that looked like it was painted in some sort of gold across his skin.

His hazel eyes glimmered at you with an inhuman inner light, his mouth quirked up in a cocky smile that stretched his beard; his long, curled black hair striped with wisps of silver as it hung low against his shoulders.

One of his hands held a long staff, topped in a golden crescent moon, like the one tattooed on his chest. His eyes trailed you up and down as he slowly made his way over to you.

You were transfixed.

You were so struck by him that you didn't flinch until his fingers tipped your chin so you would look up at him, your mouth going dry. What the hell was happening?

"Well... at least you are pleasing to look at."

You felt your ego take the punch, and your awe at his beauty was shattered. Oh. So he was a dick.

"You--"

"Do you know why you're here, little dove?" He hummed, tilting his head slightly with a coy--but knowing--smile.

"I... My friend did some stupid magic circle, that's what!" You say, twisting your head free from his grasp, stepping away to wrap the silk robe around you tighter, suddenly feeling very self conscious.

"I asked not what brought you here... but if you knew what your friend's ritual has ordained for you." He chuckled lowly at your sense of modesty.

"I..." You flounder, wishing you had been listening to the details Zoey had been spitting as she set up the circle, earlier as Max and Kayla got you ready. "Something about..."

Your body shivered at the realization.

"... something about fertility?"

The man moved towards you in a blur, suddenly behind you once again; his body heat bleeding into you like the scorching sun on a summer day, his heavy hands circling your waist and toying with the knot in the robe.

"Close." He had whispered, his lips touching the shell of your ear as your body went rigid in his embrace.

"Your friend mistranslated "offering"." The ridiculously gorgeous man hummed deeply. His lips skimmed your bare neck in appreciation; "She said "wife". Imagine my surprise, while I was overseeing my Fist's duties and I heard that incantation over the divine space. I simply had to see who performed such a ritual."

"W-wait you can't be saying that..."

"I am afraid so, little dove." He breathed, his mouth leaving a hot kiss to your leaping pulse, making heat pool low in your belly. His hands slid beneath the robe, touching the soft nightgown that covered you beneath; barely touching the undersides of your breasts.

"You belong to me, now."

You stood ramrod stiff as his hands roamed you, mapping out every dip and curve your body had; every hollow and mark in your skin, driving your body mad with desire despite the shock of your current situation.

"It is human custom to consummate a marriage after a ceremony, yes?" His mouth once again found your ear, his words hot on your skin, one of his hands slipping beneath your robe and gown to brush his thumb over one of your pebbled nipples; his other sliding down to slowly hike up the skirt of your nightwear, his hand groping and squeezing the fat of your thigh.

"It has been... overlong since I have indulged in such pleasures. But I assure you, I have a--very--good memory."

All six of them had been in a constant state of panic, frantically wondering if they should call a priest or the police. The sun was beginning to creep over the horizon, painting the sky in gorgeous colors as clouds lazily danced about the atmosphere.

Max had yanked at his curls, "I'm to gay and gorgeous to go to jail!"

"It was magic not murder, you drama queen!" Mari shouted, shaking Max's arm frantically.

"Who the fuck should we call?!" Lizzy shrieked, waving her arms over her head. "The fuckin' Winchester brothers?! Fucking Constantine?!"

Zoey practically sobbed, emotionally raw and scared. She hadn't expected anything to happen with this! After all, none of her other dabblings caused something like... like this! What if she mistranslated in the wrong language and accidentally sent you to Cthulhu? What if she cursed you to one of the circles of hell? Did she say something wrong?!

"I'm sorry!" She sniffled as Eli rubbed her back, trying desperately to stay calm. "I didn't know!"

"Well, we are not ever doing goddamn magic ever again!" Kayla hyperventilated, fanning herself desperately with her hand, the other holding her long hair up in a bunch to get it off of her sweaty neck. "God damn it, this shit always happens in horror movies! Me and my big mouth--"

They were all almost knocked to the ground again, when, in a bright flash of light... you were dropped onto the plush mattress once again. Only this time, your appearance was far more disheveled.

Your makeup ran down your cheeks, mascara tracking down your face from dried tears, your lipstick smeared and hair messy; your clothes haphazardly askew in several places.

You blinked, your eyes not entirely focused as you sat up and looked at your friends. You zeroed in on Zoey. You didn't seem... hurt? Mad at her?

Instead, your usual coping mechanism kicked in. Humor.

"Scully.... You're not gonna believe this..."

[vigil-antes]

have some doodles i, a person with no art skills whatsoever, drew while waiting for my exam to start

some of the highlights are:

hes sad and doesnt cope well:

97% of spiderman x batman crossovers

average damian+tim interaction ft bruce who is NOT being a good parent

said son, who also does not cope well + internalized homophobia gojo

any bill cypher enjoyers still alive? no? damn

just finished rewatching moon knight and tell me khonshu is not batman if he was a dead bird god with all that vengance+protector of the night bull

[ivystoryweaver]

Still With You

A With You standalone sequel - can be read on its own

"Salvaging discarded things knocked the edge off wanting to drink."

"...but where Marc's hands restored and your hands healed and Steven's hands inspired and instructed, Jake had brutal hands."

based on this nonnie and this @purple-amaranthe request

Pairing: Marc, Steven, Jake x gn!reader || Word Count: 3.2k

Content: they're all trying hard ok, domestic life, self worth probs, mentions of alcoholism/drinking, angst-ish, domestic fluff, moon dads-to-be, romance, sensual content, but nothing explicit

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MARC

10:58 A.M.

Florescent lights flickered out an annoying buzz in the otherwise silent waiting room.

Thumbing through an outdated parenting magazine, you intermittently pointed out cute toys or outfits to your husband, who would grant you a curt nod each time.

Realizing you likely weren't helping the situation, you set the magazine aside and covered his hand with your own, if only to stop his fidgeting. "Almost time."

Marc squeezed your hand, grateful for your grounding touch. "You're sure we're not late?"

"We're right on time. It's still not even 11:00."

"Okay," he huffed out, his knee bouncing of its own accord. The cheap vinyl of his chair squeaked as he shifted, attempting to externally calm and internal storm.

You smiled at him sympathetically, remembering how far he'd come to even get to this point.

Just yesterday, he paced the floor half the evening, pushing his hands tormentedly through his curls over and over.

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"They'll never approve me," he lamented. "I'm not...they'll think I'm not ready."

"Baby, we've taken all the classes. We've passed the home inspection." You nodded around at your new bedroom, eyes landing on the salvaged and restored night table he presented to you a while back.

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Marc had taken on several projects since then, turning one bedroom of your new place into a workshop and the other into a nursery.

"Do you think she'll like girl colors?" He asked, flipping through paint swatches at the local hardware store.

"Uhh, what are 'girl colors'?" You smirked.

He swatted your nose with his finger. "I'm trying to pick out what color to paint that vintage toy chest I restored for Akeyla."

Your heart melted at the sound of your future daughter's name, not to mention the fact that Marc had put together nearly every piece in her nursery himself.

When he wasn't on a mission for Khonshu, he liked to keep his hands busy. Sometimes that meant his hands were all over you for "stress relief." Otherwise, he would drive around town in the old truck he bought, looking for unwanted and discarded furniture to fix up, repurpose for the house, or sell.

He still labeled himself unemployed, but he sold a few refurbished pieces a month, which more than paid for the hobby, his truck insurance and even left some spending money.

Salvaging discarded things knocked the edge off wanting to drink.

"Maybe like...turquoise?" He prodded, tracing his fingers over a row of various blues and greens. When you neglected to answer what you assumed was a rhetorical question, he assumed it was a no.

"Or purple? Sweetheart?" The full intensity of the Marc Spector stare fell on you as he waited for the verdict.

"Sorry." You smiled at him, nodding toward the turquoise swatches. "Trust your instincts. You're always right." Leaning closer, you kissed him adoringly on the cheek.

"That's not what you said about the yellow bench," he chuckled, selecting a swatch labeled "Ebbtide".

"That's pretty, I like it."

Marc needed to hear your words. After a couple years of marriage, you knew this now more than ever. Whether telling him what you needed in bed, or giving your seal of approval for his newest restoration project, he valued your opinion more than anything and it meant so much to him to hear you voice it.

Akeyla's nursery had been ready for weeks. The vintage toy chest was the final touch. Marc found a rocking chair, a book case that Steven requested, and chest of drawers to restore. You drew the line at a creaky old toddler bed. Steven went with you to pick that out, brand new.

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It was finally here. Today was the day you would meet your little girl.

You weren't ready to take her home yet - that was longer process - but you would meet her and start visits. Very soon, she would enter your home through the foster system, and after a while, she would be yours forever, by adoption.

"What if they change their minds?" Marc urgently whispered, there in the waiting room, gripping your hand so tightly it hurt. "They'll want to put her somewhere without someone - "

"Marc," you reminded him, "they know all about us. It's okay."

"I know, but - what if they find out about Khon- "

"Hi, are you the Spectors?" a kindly voice interrupted Marc's fussing.

A smartly dressed young woman holding a tablet adjusted her glasses and smiled.

"Yes," you quickly answered, standing up and pulling Marc with you. "That's us. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." She shook each of your hands. "Ready to meet her?"

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"What if I..." Marc whispered against your temple, holding you against him in bed the night before. "I want to be there to meet her, but if I'm not, it isn't because I..." He shifted restlessly, trying to explain.

"You know what I always say," you gently reminded him, raking one hand through the curls resting above his ear.

"It's our body," he repeated your words back to you. "Whoever's there is there. It's not a problem."

"Exactly," you remind him. "I know you want to meet Akeyla as much as Steven, Jake and I do. I know that."

"I do," he breathlessly repeated, and you realized it might be a long night, when he added, "I just don't want to scare her. What if she doesn't understand, you know, how we are?"

"Baby, come here," You pulled his head down to your chest, wrapping him up tightly, pressing soothing kisses along his hairline. He wasn't voicing any fears he hadn't already talked through a dozen times with you, his sponsor and his therapist, not to mention his alters.

"Sorry," he murmured against the smooth column of your neck. Shifting pleading eyes up to yours, he relaxed, as your soft smile soothed him. "I'm so nervous."

"I am too," you sympathized. "Believe me, Marc. I mean, we're meeting our daughter. I'm just as nervous as you are."

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Marc tangled his fingers with yours as you shuffled down the hallway toward the room that would change your lives forever.

The woman in front of you, who had identified herself as Elsie, paused before opening the door. "Ready?"

You glanced at your husband.

Sometimes he was so adorably terrified you were certain he forgot it was actually his idea to adopt.

Granting you a nod, he swallowed thickly. "Ready."

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STEVEN

9:22 P.M.

"So tense, mon cœur," your husband breathed against your neck, trailing tempting kisses over your damp skin. Strong forearms flexed against your abdomen, pulling your back closer to the slick heat of his bare chest.

Thick thighs surrounded you as you rested in your garden tub together, soaking in a bubble bath. Your head dropped to his shoulder as he whispered sensual French words on your ear. Long fingers traced down the shape of your abdomen, naughtily slipping between your legs.

"Steven, this is supposed to be a relaxing bath. Oh shit - " You moaned as touched you right where you craved. His other hand gripped your jaw, turning your face to his for a wet, hungry kiss. You went boneless in his embrace, completely at his mercy.

You should have known sweet Steven would seduce you during your "relaxing bath."

Later that evening, he sat beside you on the sofa, each of you working on a puzzle book from the "couch basket", enjoying a quiet evening in your new home.

“Got those pictures you wanted, love,” he commented. “The garden ones. Found another book too.”

You smiled adoringly at him, so excited to see them framed and hanging in Akeyla’s room. You had asked him to track down pictures of gardens from all over the world. Since Marc was in charge of furniture, Steven helped you pick out some unique decor.

He acquired a couple of first edition classic Children’s books as well. But you reminded him they would have to be stored way up high, away from the grabby hands of a toddler.

So he curated a brilliant little collection of toddler friendly board books for the lower shelves, as well as children’s books for her to grow into.

Steven had finished his bachelor's degree and was now working on a Masters of Anthropology. Already fluent in French, he was also studying Egyptian Arabic in an unofficial capacity, and toying with the idea of studying archaeology or linguistics as well. He just loved to learn and could never get enough.

After all was said and done, he'd probably end up teaching, which was a perfect idea because, in front of the right crowd, he was absolutely enthralling when he was passionate about something.

He still worked at the university library and thanked you almost daily for making most of the money for this little family, while he studied, and he, Jake and Marc worked part-time jobs.

You reminded Steven that their three part time jobs kind of added up to one job - plus as a student, you would give him a pass.

"Besides, you're going to be a sexy professor in another year or two, so I really see no downside," you'd tease him.

“Can’t wait to read to her every night,” Steven mused, pulling your mind back to the present.

Setting your puzzle book down, you snuggled up close to his side, wrapping your arms around his. “She’s always going to remember us reading to her. You’re going to be such a good dad, Steven.”

His throat bobbed. “You really think so?”

“I do. I know it.”

Gripping your hand almost as tightly as Marc had earlier in the afternoon, his head rested against yours. "Can't wait to meet her. Tell me again how she looked."

You warmly chuckled, nuzzling into his sleeve. "You've seen her picture a hundred times."

"I know, but...tell me again. What does her voice sound like?"

So you told Steven all about meeting your daughter for the first time, that afternoon, with Marc.

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JAKE

4:07 A.M.

The jangling of keys in the deadbolt dragged you from a foggy half slumber you'd managed in Steven's chair by the front door.

Jake had finally made it home after another night driving people around, and serving as Khonshu's fist of vengeance.

When he spotted you there, looking so adorably uncomfortable, he pulled his cap off his head and tossed it onto the entry way table with his keys.

Kneeling down in front of you, he smiled warmly. "What are you doing up, mi vida?"

"Mmm," you mumbled, relief surging through you at the sight of him. Leaning forward in the chair, you wrapped your arms around his neck and squeezed him tight. "Missed you."

"Missed you too." He held you for an indulgent moment before gently placing you back into the chair and standing to remove his jacket and gloves. Before you could whine out a protest, he helped you up just long enough to sit in the chair and pull you back down onto his lap.

Tucking you against his body, he reached for his jacket and draped it over you like a blanket. Jake knew you well enough. If he told you to go to bed, you would bristle and defy him, but if he held you like this, you would fall asleep in sixty seconds flat. Win win.

Your body settled against his and your breathing slowed, but you blinked up at him pleadingly. “Where have you been?”

Frowning in confusion, he rubbed his hands up and down your back soothingly, underneath the jacket. “You know where, cariño.”

Looping your fingers around his tie, you coaxed his temping lips to yours for a lingering kiss. Jake shifted underneath you, sighing against your mouth as you held him there for an indulgent moment.

“I haven’t seen you all week. I miss you.”

“I see you almost every night,” he volleyed back.

“You know what I mean.” Realizing you were tired and there was an edge in your tone, you touched your forehead to his. “I know you guys don’t exactly have a schedule. I just wanted to tell you about Akeyla.”

His eyes flickered away as his jaw clenched. You and Marc met your daughter yesterday. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

For a while, Jake had to be asked or reminded to participate in regular, daily things. Sometimes, you would go a week, only seeing him in your room at night, so you would ask him to eat dinner with you or take you out somewhere.

You started late night dates with Jake, just to build memories with him, in his world. It was never really your scene before, but you'd been to bars, out dancing, to late movies and your favorite - midnight bowling.

In fact, you all adjusted your schedules to fit the boys' night owl tendencies. You moved to second shift and Steven didn't take any more morning classes. You all slept in as late as possible, ate brunch or lunch and then got started on your day.

So it was not unheard of for you to wait up for Jake, but sleeping in Steven's chair until 4 A.M. was a bit unusual.

"I was busy tonight," he cryptically remarked, which tended to indicate he was probably doing Khonshu's bidding. "I wasn't trying to stay away."

"I'm not mad," you sleepily assured him, laying your head down on his shoulder. "I can't wait for you to meet her. And with her coming home soon, everything could change.”

"Change how?"

"Well for starters, I doubt a toddler will let us sleep in as late as we do. She'll probably climb all over our heads at like 5:30."

Jake was uncharacteristically quiet and you were half asleep.

"I'm not mad," you drowsily repeated, curling into him, murmuring "missed you" as you drifted off.

He rocked you gently, his heart burning with how he'd possibly disappointed you. Now that you were finally asleep, he didn't dare wake you, so he laid his head on the back of the chair, hoping to join you in slumber.

Jake had seen the horrors of this world, and of worlds adjacent. Terrifying, supernatural threats had met the crunch of his fist, and his vengeance.

But the thought of caring for a little girl shook him to his core, and in a different way than it did Marc.

Marc was always worried about his alcoholism, his past, the fact that they were a system, but he wanted Akeyla so badly. The whole thing was his idea in the first place. Steven was ready to show this kid the world, both metaphorically and literally.

Jake loved you, and he would love his child. Beyond that, he had no idea what to do, or how to contribute. The urge to not take time away from Marc or Steven was so strong it almost felt like instinct.

You, Steven and Marc had lovingly and rather expertly crafted her a dream-worthy nursery, but where Marc's hands restored and your hands healed and Steven's hands inspired and instructed, Jake had brutal hands.

Unwilling to disturb you, he pondered how he could prove to you he was still in this with you.

Reaching into his the pocket of his jacket, which still covered the top half of your body, he pulled out his phone. Opening up a picture of Akeyla, he smiled, studying her cute, chubby cheeks, dark, round eyes and her tightly wound curls.

Tracing the shape of her face with his thumb, he wondered what he could possibly give his sweet angel, besides protection.

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Sleep came for a short while, but as the sun rose, so did you. Jake was asleep but his phone was playing a long playlist of videos. Hoping to not disturb him, you carefully removed the phone from his hand.

The video showed a young girl getting her hair styled. In fact the whole playlist was of dads styling their daughter's textured hair, including what products to try, and cute and useful clips, combs and the right brushes to help.

Chewing on you lip for a moment, you tapped on the search bar and saw that he had typed in, 'how to care for textured hair'.

Just the notion of Jake pulling off his gloves and styling your little girl's hair made your heart explode with love.

"Are these for Akeyla?" You whispered mainly to yourself, shifting your weight from one of his thighs to the other.

Jake groaned as circulation returned to that leg, making it tingle as he awakened from a very short nap.

"Sorry," you softly laughed. "I should let you get up, shouldn't I?"

The corner of Jake's mouth curled, but he nodded.

You helped him climb out of the chair and the two of you washed up. Jake slid into Steven's pajama pants and the two of you went to bed.

Already drifting back to sleep, Jake presented his small offering to you. Something to let you know he was all in.

"I think I could learn how to fix Akeyla's hair," he drowsily murmured, eyes already closed. "Watched a bunch of videos about it."

He couldn't build things and he wasn't book smart and he wasn't you. He wasn't even supposed to have a family. But you loved him so hard that he couldn't resist you and now he was about to gain everything he never knew he wanted.

Maybe the brutality of his hands could be used to do this tender thing for his daughter.

"I love you so much," you whispered, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes.

"Te amo," he whispered.

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ONE WEEK LATER…

“What’s your favorite color, Akeyla?” Marc asked on your next visit to with your soon-to-be-daughter. He sat beside her, adorably hunched with her at a child-sized table, coloring and drawing.

“Do you like red?” He asked, holding up a few choices of crayon.

“Fav-wit color wed!” She agreed, reaching for a yellow.

“Ohhh, you like yellow.” He winked at you, thinking of the yellow bench at home. “I like it too.”

“Yeh-yow,” Akeyla repeated, scribbling determinedly. Swinging her legs back and forth she repeated, “Yeh-yow, yeh-yow.”

“That’s right. We have a big yellow bench at home that I painted. We can sit on it together, just you and me. Is that okay?”

Akeyla seemed to ignore him, reaching over his arm to scribble yellow on his coloring sheet. Once she had saturated the paper to her satisfaction, she laughed out, amused with herself. “Yeh-yow bench. Okay, Dad-eee.”

Her nose scrunched as she showed him a silly toddler grin. Your heart completely melted as you watched them together.

“This is a good drawing,” Marc complimented, pointing to his paper she drew on. “Can I have it?”

Reaching out with chubby fingers, Akeyla scrunched the paper in her tiny grip, presenting it to Marc. “Here go. You hab it.”

“I can keep it?” He nodded hopefully. “Can I have a hug?”

She threw her arms around his neck. Lifting her up from the table, Marc offered one arm out to you and invited you into to this little family embrace.

Akeyla touched her forehead to yours, already a signature move for the two of you. Then she scrunched her nose and showed off that silly grin again.

"Want me to take your picture?" You offered. Grabbing your phone, you snapped a few selfies of you and Marc with Akeyla.

As soon as you were finished, she reached for your phone. "I watch Bluey."

And so it began.

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