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revasserium · 2 months

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entwined shadows

zayne, rafayel, xavier; 1,872 words; fluff, semi-canon compliant, spoilers! for entwined shadows cards, v!suggestive, no "y/n", genderless!reader, lapslock cause lazy, so! many! kisses!

summary: kiss me once, kiss me twice, kiss me thrice or a thousand times

a/n: inspired by the poems of robert frost and also obviously by the entwined shadows cards cause... bruh.

perish, twice - zayne

the hideout is cold — but his lips are warm, hungry.

“z-zayne!”

there’s fire in his veins, pulsing beneath your fingertips, the kind that his ice has never been able to put out — not even once.

“please…” he sounds like a broken man; you know better than to believe him, “i told you… i warned you…” he trails his lips along the column of your neck, his fingers digging into the bend of your hips, his other hand pinning your wrists above your head, “that i might not be able to control myself this time…”

he lets out a breath, the heat of it fogging the air between you in the dark chill of the room. you feel your skin burning, even as you shiver. your mind spins with the incongruencies, the push and pull, the icy bite of the air, the stinging heat of zayne’s body against yours.

“i-if we freeze tonight —” your voice is unsteady, heady with desire, but zayne cuts you off.

“i won’t let you.” he cups your cheek and you feel the skin there tingle with warmth. slowly, you watch as the vines of pale blue begin to fade from his skin.

you shake your head even as you pull him down for another deep, long kiss, the kind that sears —

“no… i won’t let you.”

when you break apart again, there’s a wild, unfocused light to his eyes, a shallowness to his breaths. he looks dazed, but as his gaze flickers down to your kiss-swollen lips, a razor like focus shifts inside him and suddenly, he’s caging you in, his teeth skimming the delicate skin above your fluttering pulse.

“tell me… tell me this is okay…” his voice is barely a whisper. but you hear it loud as the howling of the storm outside. you breathe out.

“zayne. i want this — i want… you.”

a groan rumbles through him, base and heavy as an avalanche.

he murmurs something that sound suspiciously like a prayer before he sinks his teeth into the bare skin of your shoulder and rips open the front of your shirt in one smooth motion.

the storm outside continues to rage, but at the very least, you can be certain — the ice pulsing beneath his skin is slowly beginning to thaw away.

taste of desire - rafayel

“but this one… i think i like this one best.” rafayel grins as he leans down to press two quick kisses to your cheeks, pulling back to trail his gaze over your blush-tinted skin. heat prickles at your neck but you refuse to look away.

instead, you attempt a glare, “y-you said that three seconds ago.”

rafayel makes an aggrieved expression, “it’s not my fault your cheeks can turn so many colors so quickly! do you know how tiring it is to try and pick my favorite color when i can see so many? ah — there, this one’s nice too!” he taps his finger against the tip of your nose even as you feel your entire face flush.

you bite your lips and push back against him, toppling the pair of you over onto the sofa in his wide-open studio. the windows are cracked, and the spring breeze flirts with the gauzy white curtains; the setting sun paints the entire room in a soft, dreamlike glow.

“why can’t you just call it blush pink like everyone else?” you crinkle your nose and try to turn your head away, even as rafayel shifts beneath you, running a warm palm down the length of your spine to shift you closer.

he cocks his head, lips pushing into a familiar pout, “how can an artist like me be so vague?” he shakes a few strands of hair from his eyes, batting long lashes up at you, “in order to achieve perfection, you have to be specific with your words, you know.”

you’re about to say something else but he sits up, pressing in close enough for your noses to brush, “for instance — if you want a kiss…” his eyes flicker down to your lips; you feel your breath hitch, your heartbeat scattering within your chest like a handful of tossed marbles.

he inches forward, agonizingly slowly, till his lips are hovering only a hair’s breath away from yours. your fingers tighten in his shirt but he makes no move to kiss you.

“you should tell me where…” he makes to lean in, but turns his head at the last moment to skim his lips along your cheeks, his breath tickling your earlobe for a second, “like… here?” he lowers his head, trailing a light kiss against your jaw, “or… perhaps here…” he drops his lips to the bend of your shoulder.

you tremble in his arms, fingers fisting as you attempt to pull him closer.

“r-rafayel… you’re not playing fair.”

he pulls back, an almost gleeful grin spreading across his lips, the light cascading across the room drawing his lashes into long, mesmerizing shadows across the highs of his cheeks.

“why should i? you humans’ve never played fair before. for my own self-preservation… i’ve gotta have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

you squirm in his lap as you feel his fingers tickling at your sides, but as he pins you to his chest, you let out a surprised yelp, palms pressing flat against his chest to steady yourself.

“so, tell me, strange human…” he leans in, nose nudging yours, “what exactly do you want from me, hm?”

you lick your lips, a dull, pulsing ache echoing up from the base of your belly to the top of your spine. you reach up to trace a thumb against the pad of his lips and watch with a stomach-twisting satisfaction as his breath goes shallow, his eyes go wide, go dark.

“kiss me,” you say, leaning down till you’re sure he can almost taste you on his tongue.

you feel him swallow as you trail your thumb down along his neck to the place where his pulse flutters, light and fast as the flurried beats of a butterfly’s wings.

“i thought… i thought i told you… you have to be more specific.”

you allow yourself a grin, fingers tightening ever so slightly around his neck; his cheeks flush the most gorgeous shade of sunset pink and you take a second to marvel to yourself that you’d never quite seen this color on him before. it might just be your favorite yet.

“rafayel… kiss me… right here.”

here come the stars - xavier

looking back, it had felt like a dream — twenty-one days of living together, of grocery shopping and tv-watching, of sleeping next to each other, of waking up to the warm scent of his skin.

“what if we just stayed here forever?”

you twist to face him in the dark; it’s your last night here, and the previous afternoon, you’d sat beneath the thick slices of lemon-yellow sunlight pouring through the windows with a bowl of cherries and the taste of each other resting on your tongues.

“we’d be implicating ourselves in the mission.”

xavier sighs, shifting a bit closer and reaching out to cup your cheek. you lean into the touch, letting your eyes flutter shut as you nuzzle into his heat.

“i know. but…” his finger traces the line of your nose down to the soft of your lips. you let them fall open a second before you feel him pressing in closer, before his lips graze yours and you feel yourself falling into his embrace.

the sheets twist around your ankles. outside, the the scimitar moon watches with slitted silver eyes.

“but…” you say, your voice thick with the honey of recent kisses, “who says that it can’t be like this when we get back to linkon city?”

xavier makes a soft noise at the back of his throat, pulling away to glance down at you.

“what… are you…”

there’s a breathless anticipation pulsing beneath the current of his voice; you sigh and lean up for another quick kiss.

“and you were calling me a dummy earlier…” but even as you steel yourself against the words weighing down the tip of your tongue, you feel your cheeks go hot and silently thank the heavens that it’s too dark in the room for him to see just how red you’d probably gotten.

“i — i’m asking if you want to — i mean, we’re already neighbors so, it wouldn’t even be a very hard move…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly very dry. beside you, xavier’s gone white-rabbit still. if it weren’t for the shallow sound of his breaths or the wild beating of his heart beneath your hands, you might’ve wondered if he were even there at all.

“i just thought —” you quickly amend, the silence thickening around you like churned butter, “if you really did l-like it like this… it wouldn’t be hard for us to —”

he silences you with another kiss, more forceful this time. and whereas the previous ones were all soft and languid, this one is open-mouthed, a stomach-clenching hunger pouring itself from his mouth to yours as he presses you down beneath him and pins you to the bed.

his knee presses up between your legs and desire lances through you, bright and sharp as lightening. you gasp, biting down on his lips as he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“i don’t know — if that’s a good — idea —”

you lick your lips, frowning up at him. you’ve never seen him so winded; you’d barely even seen him out of breath, but right now, even in the dim light, you can see him shaking apart at the edges.

“w-why?” you have to fight to keep the hurt from your voice, but the next second, xavier is pressing his tongue back into your mouth and running it along the backs of your teeth. he kisses you so hard and so thoroughly you nearly pass out from the lack of air.

“because — i — we’d never get any sleep. and —” his hair tickles the skin of your cheeks as you let out a surprised laugh, his lips trailing down the length of your throat, “and i rather like my sleep…”

you let your eyes fall shut again, tangling your fingers in his starlight hair as he hisses against your chest.

“well — at least tomorrow we have the day off… so, i suppose if there’s any night we won’t need much sleep…”

xavier lets out a soft groan, shaking his head even as he peppers your skin with even more kisses, “don’t… don’t say stuff like that. people might get the wrong idea.”

you give his hair a playful tug, reveling in the way his whole body seems to go taut above you as he lifts his head.

“or,” you smile, slowly releasing his hair from your fingers, “they might be getting exactly the right idea.”

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dearlawdimasimp · 2 months

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Master Sorcerer of Kindness and Humility

Pairings: MK System x Sorcerer!Reader, Khonshu x Sorcerer!Reader

Warnings: English isn't my first language, Spanish is from google translate

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Summary: Things in the Sanctum Santorum has been…pretty fucking hectic lately. To put it simply, chaos is in every fucking corner and as a Master Sorcerer of one of the Sanctums in the world, you have to assist the Sorcerer Supreme. Some things are still the usual, but double the effort. Like teaching the new recruits, now, from three different Sanctums instead of one, keep said recruits from the restricted area of the library, guarding the said restricted area of the library and the whole library itself.

With your growing exhaustion, so did the worry of the moon boys grew.

a/n: Hai so uh it has been awhile since i posted eheh I just noticed i have MANY rotting fics in my docs so decided to post now ( ´∀`)/~~ Enjoy lovelies! (^o^)／~💜 (this fic is crossposted on AO3 under the same title and author name ^-^)

Things in the Sanctum Santorum has been…pretty fucking hectic lately. To put it simply, chaos is in every fucking corner and as a Master Sorcerer of one of the Sanctums in the world, you have to assist the Sorcerer Supreme. Some things are still the usual, but double the effort. Like teaching the new recruits, now, from three different Sanctums instead of one, keep said recruits from the restricted area of the library, guarding the said restricted area of the library and the whole library itself.

The supposed assigned sorcerers for each class told you that they are needed on a mission across the globe and are in need of a substitute, of course being the kind soul that you are you agreed on subbing them for the meantime while they're off to save humanity. The library duty has always been yours though, you volunteered on the job when Wong said he needed someone to take his place as he takes the Sorcerer Supreme, and ever since the world has gone back to its normal state, you remained as the librarian.

Your overloaded schedule leads to early mornings and late nights, and less time with your moon boys™.

To say that they are concerned of your health is a bit of an understatement, they're fucking worried as every time they see you, your eyebags grow darker and puffier than the last time.

But, somehow, even with all the things going on with you (only knowing what you are allowed to talk about), you still insert a little bit of your time to cook Steven his favorite breakfast before he goes to work, you still brew up Mark's favorite coffee, prepare Jake's uniform for his side-job during the night as a limo driver, and bring Khonshu offerings on the small altar you've made for him that is purposefully placed on the windowsill where the moon usually shines.

They are thoroughly impressed, but at the same time endlessly worried as your eyes grow weary and exhausted each time you enter the flat.

However, you still have the same warming smile on your lips every time you greet them after work. Joy was etched into your tone as you kissed them and mingled with them for a few hours, dismissing their worries with gentle eyes and kept on insisting that you love your job. You even still have the fiery stare whenever they tell you to rest and let them handle the dishes, which diminishes when Khonshu lays his hand on your shoulders, coaxing you to rest. The god pulls you to the shared bed and once your head hits the plush white pillows, you're out like a light.

The system continues to take care of cleaning the kitchen before joining their sorcerer in deep sleep and joining you in the dreamworld for a while before the Lunar deity of Egypt pulls them to another night of being his fist of vengeance. They would be back and join you once more in bed, and let sleep pull them to its cocoon. And you wake up not an hour later to start the day.

And this went on for a few more days before the moon boys decided to put an end to this. Their last straw was when you had fallen asleep mid-conversation while in front of your food. You were in that level of exhaustion to the point that you couldn't keep yourself awake while eating. They drew the line at that.

They carefully laid your slumbering self down on the bed before donning on the suit, “We'll be back, hermosa.” Jake held your hand and kissed your knuckles tenderly. “We just need to have a bit of a word with them, love, don't worry.” Steven gently lays your hand down on your stomach and leaves a kiss on your forehead before Marc leaps out of the window and out to the London air as Khonshu guides them with his wind to the London Sanctum.

The trip wasn't long before they landed on the Sanctum's roof. The place was brimming with magic and the system could feel it. Marc tries to enter through the window but the scenery changes before his foot lands on the stained glass. A confused and ungraceful landing led him to curse under his breath as he observed his surroundings.

“Be vigilant, Spector.” The god throws caution to the wind, his rumbling voice echoing in the minds of the system. Marc keeps his snarky remark to the god to himself, wanting to tell the god he knows what he's doing. He rolled his eyes instead as he composures himself, and inspects the room they are in.

The place is reminiscent of those temples that houses holy relics, it was old but in tip-top shape. The floor below him looks furnished and one that can be compared closed to an old mansion, and the slabs holding what he thinks are relics had intricate wood carvings were carefully placed on both sides of the hallway he's in. It was leading to an illuminated room and so he took no more than a second to head to the light.

His eyes wandered around the hallway he's walking down in, Steven was gushing at the designs while he and Jake kept silent and kept an eye for any threat.

The room they entered was spacious, save for the relics enclosed in glass and the big circle window that allowed the moonlight to fill the space. It had intricate swirls which Marc remembers, was the same design of the brooch you have on your collar.

However, it wasn't the window that had caught their attention but rather the man behind it, who was eerily calm while peering out the glass. The London night visible to the man that had a red cape that's barely touching the wooden floors.

“An unexpected visit from the Knight of Khonshu himself. You know, you're lucky you're under the protection of the Master Sorcerer here in London.” The man states with a booming voice, bouncing off the walls and glass in the room. It was humorous, but full of threat.

“Or else what?” Marc quips inattentively, keeping distance from the sorcerer who had yet introduced himself.

“Or else I would have thrown you to the ocean the moment you stepped foot on the Sanctum.” The man's baritone voice lowered an octave as he turned to finally meet Moon Knight's glowing eyes.

He had a goatee and the robes he wore were akin to their beloved but in the deep shade of blue instead of your favorite color.

Goatee. Red cloak. This was the Stephen Strange you can't stop complaining about.

A dry chuckle escaped his lips through his masked face. He believes the sorcerer's powers alright, he just can't keep a straight face after the memory of you audibly cussing Strange out had just played in their minds.

“Right,” Marc takes out his crescent daggers from his chest, “I'm only here-”

“Trust me you don't want to fight me.”

“Let us finish, pendejo!” Jake growls as he fronts, not wanting to waste more time and to get out of the place as soon as possible.

They weren't planning to fight. They weren't stupid. They can feel every ounce of energy and magic in the building. They stepped into a lion's den. But if it is what it needs for these sorcerers to hear them? They will face these magic wielders head on.

It seemed that Strange was a bit perplexed at the alter's rage or maybe it was the suit change, but they couldn't care less.

“We're only here because that Master Sorcerer you talked about is always on the verge of passing out every time they go home.” Marc's jaw clenches under the mask as he continues with a step forward to the sorcerer—who promptly took a step back— as his fingers flex around the sharp gold crescent on his hand, “For the past weeks they have been wrung out and just a while ago, had passed out while eating.” When he finished his sentence the room was suddenly swept with a wild draft, with no windows open.

They were not able to notice the confused and worried squint of the former sorcerer supreme's eyes as Marc continues, his tone nothing but purely scathing.

“My point is, We will not be allowing them to come to work tomorrow and until she gets the proper rest she deserves, and not until you fix her schedule that is ethical and appropriate hours of work.” He ends his spiel right in front of the sorcerer, looking up to him with a keen glare, his glowing ivory eyes illuminating the sharpened features of Stephen Strange.

“Or else?” The sorcerer rasps as he stares right back at the avatar, standing his ground, and using the exact words back to the stark white cloaked man.

As if on cue, stronger gusts of wind shakes the glass covers and uncovered relics. The Egyptian God of the Moon materializes behind the sorcerer and with a booming, bitter voice, he answers, “Then you will face the consequences of causing harm to one of whom is under my protection, Stephen Strange.”

The said sorcerer turns his body to the side to glance at the moon god. In all his glory he was towering over him, moonlight was illuminating his monstrously tall and slender figure as the bronzed crescent end of his staff that is nearly scratching the ceiling reflected it. His loose, darkened, silk robe was flowing and whipping around without the presence of the wind, his crouched figure wrinkling the bandages on his torso as his bleached bird skull head tilted down and gave Stephen a hollowed stare.

With a sigh, which had displeased the moon collective and took it as an insult, he nodded to accept their terms. He honestly had no idea you had worked yourself to the bone and will consult the other Master Sorcerers and Wong of your schedule. He knew you were humble and kind, but he didn't know it would be up to the point that your.. acquaintances.. had to show up and tell them of your over-extended goodwill.

“I will inform our masters of such, thank you for bringing this to our attention.” He ends the conversation as he does not want to deal with whatever this is. He was not intimidated, not one bit—okay maybe a bit but he has faced much worse! What's intimidating him is the fact that a literal god has taken you under his wing and has gone out of his way to announce his displeasure.

“As you should.” And with that, the moon party calmed down before they vanished in a swirl of blur and whirling sand. Let's just say you were confused when you woke up late, about to dash to the bathroom before you were stopped by your moon god and gave you a letter that was sent by the Sorcerer Supreme that basically said take a break. You were perplexed as you stared at the paper then up to the moon god, who ushered you back to bed and lulled you to sleep. When you woke up you were pampered by the boys with food and cuddles, all gently forcing you to stay in bed and to let them service you for the day as they had also taken the day off. You couldn't help but tear up at their tender loving care all day and being such gentlemen for doing such. Your love for them was overflowing and you kept promising them that you would do the same to them if ever need be, which they dismissed because as they said, “Today is all about you, love. So you better descansar(take a rest), and we'll take care of the rest, sweetheart. And not just today, up until the last day of the week or maybe next couple of weeks, you got that baby?”

This has earned a heartful laugh from you and an affectionate shake of your head before pulling them into a kiss. You were puzzled and have a lot of questions as to how or why you were given a large amount of time off but you really couldn't complain especially if it meant more time with your moon boys.

Back to the sanctum however, the former sorcerer supreme was fuming at the how fucked up your schedule was and how fucked up you were for taking it even though you were literally doing the impossible, and the fact that none of the other masters pointed it out to Wong, who was also equally fuming to the masters that had asked you to cover for them for a ‘mission’ when they were just taking a fucking vacation.

"You are lucky their patron didn't know of your whereabouts, or gods knows what he will do to you.” Wong warned them, displeased and infuriated, written all over his features.

Oh but Khonshu heard, of course he did, and made those masters’ month a living hell through inconveniencing them at every chance he gets. To which Strange and Wong only but gave them a deadpanned stare of ‘deal with it’ when they asked for their help.

#so uh there's that HAHA #IT HAS BEEN AWHILE SINCE I WROTE A FIC SO PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR ANY ERRORS HUHU #ig im on semi-hiatus now haha :D #moon knight x reader #khonshu x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockely x reader #Moon knight x sorcerer!reader #Khonshu x sorcerer!reader #G•writes

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