#deity; nonnie!

[pocketramblr]

AU where Gentry and Katy set their differences aside and star the hunt of certain Deer deity.

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#transcript in alt #pocket talks to people #anon #ask game #deer deity #alt text #'how long did it take you to draw these while in bed' no comment next question pls #wow can't believe there was some other impersonator divinity deer. how nice of my friends to take care of that for me #because i certainly am not foolish enough to do anything to get on their bad sides #not that I'm even sure if i could if i tried... katydid much appreciates the dfo stick and gentry laughed at my attempt to make them cry so #there is nothing to fear for my sake little nonny ^^

[deityofhearts]

WRONG you are a blessing

I’m a curse or some kinda foreboding omen at best

#deity dialogue #asks #nonnie #but thank you #being called a blessing is funny god did NOT bless this vessel nor my existence

[clownleys]

Thinking about you stressing over the all the academic stuff, you just have to be a Patron Saint of Coffee/Caffeine. All those new academics are praying to you over a cup of coffee or an energy drink to get through the exams and I guess you just devoured all their anxiety, that's why you're so stressed.

(btw I hope exams go well for you! Hang in there, I'm sure it'll turn out good!)

ohhh, this one hits very close to home! in a poetic way tho, i'm impressed how you managed to add magic to this academic crunch <3

what else could i be the saint patron of?

#thank u nonnie!! #this one is actually very personal to me as i used to run so many projects dedicated to helping younger students get started in uni #i even introduced one for the queer freshmen a few years back! #so i'd love love LOVE to keep supporting them as a deity!! #also im really really impressed by the way you described it #very poetic and heartwarming #i'll be thinking of you while i study!! #<3 #ask me(me)

[lovecoredeity]

Hey Dei, this is your anonymous mutual you definitely can’t identify right now woooooooooooooooooo you don’t know meeeee

I don’t do art fight because i don’t like strangers seeing my work but hypothetically could I “attack” by sending you a drawing on tumblr?

- guess who (👁️)

Ohhhh I’ll neeever be able to guess who you are it’s a total mystery 🤫

I 100% understand that, putting your art out there for ppl to see can be uncomfortable and scary! You 100% can attack me on here I’d love that!!!

- couldn’t possibly be- no, I shan’t say it (the only person who is documented calling me Dei ✨👀)

#deity dialogue #asks #nonnie #abdjfjtk #heheh

[doumadono]

Happy 5k celebration! A cup of raspberry ice creams topped with whipped cream and maple syrup for me - Sukuna who has a massive degradation kink

Warnings: smut w/o plot, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), degradation, rough smut

A/N: thank you so much for your support, dear Nonnie; it really means the world to me

5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST

You were an ordinary woman, living in a small village in the middle of nowhere. Your fellow villagers believed in an ancient creature powerful enough to grant them long life. Year after year, they would select a young woman to sacrifice to appease the deity. Unfortunately, this year, it was your turn.

You were frightened as they led you to the old temple, dressed in a white dress — a symbol of your purity and innocence.

The place appeared deserted, but as soon as the heavy wooden door closed behind the last person leaving, a chuckle echoed through the air. It was a dark, deep sound, much like the rumble of an approaching storm. Suddenly, from out of the pure darkness, a tall, muscular figure emerged.

"Kneel," Sukuna commanded, his voice echoing off the temple walls.

You obeyed, your heart pounding in your chest as you knelt before him without giving his command a second thought.

Sukuna stood in front of you, his cock hardening in his pants as he watched you submit so willingly to him. He reached out, gripping your chin firmly and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "You exist to serve me, Y/N," he growled, his eyes burning with desire. "Nothing more. You're just a flesh that was made for me to use."

You nodded, your breath hitching as you felt a thrill run down your spine.

Sukuna released your chin, unzipping his pants and pulling out his thick, hard cock. "Now, be a good little minion and suck it," he ordered, thrusting his hips forward.

You didn't hesitate, wrapping your lips around his cock and taking him into your warm mouth.

Ryomen groaned, his hands tangling in your Y/H/C hair as he guided your head, making you take him deeper. "That's it, Y/N," he grunted, his hips moving in a rhythmic motion as he fucked your mouth. "You're such a good little slut."

You moaned around his cock, your eyes fluttering closed as you savored the taste of his salty precum, your warm tears stained your rosy cheeks. You could feel yourself getting wet, even though you shouldn't; your pussy already throbbing with need at the slightest thought of his massive shaft being stuffed in your tiny hole. You stopped thinking straight.

Sukuna pulled out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. He pushed you down onto the mat, spreading you legs wide nonchalantly. He quickly pulled up the hem of your dress, prompting you to raise your arms so he could remove the fabric. He then knelt between your thighs, his fingers tracing the wetness on your clothed pussy.

You whimpered, your hips bucking up against the heel of his hand. "My lord," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper.

He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek before moving down to your exposed neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He then moved his hand lower, cupping your breast, his thumb brushing against your perky nipple.

You let out a soft gasp, your eyes fluttering closed. It all felt good, so so good.

Sukuna smirked, tearing your panties apart with one swift motion. Slowly, with an agonizing pace, he lowered his head and ran his tongue over your clit. He licked you, his tongue exploring your slick folds, his hands holding your hips steady, pinning them to the mat. He then inserted a finger into your core, his thumb rubbing your clit.

You cried out, your fingers gripping the mat as waves of pleasure washed over your body.

Sukuna licked and sucked on your delicate clit, his fingers sliding into your pussy, making you moan louder, just for him. He could feel you tightening around his fingers, your body trembling as you neared your peak. But he didn't let you come, pulling away just as you were about to experience your very first climax. "Not yet, little whore," he taunted, his cock throbbing in his pants as he watched you writhe in frustration. "You don't get to come until I say so. Look at yourself. Pathetic! So inexperienced yet letting me fuck your needy hole raw."

Your cheeks were flushed as you whimpered, nodding slowly. "M-Master…"

Sukuna smirked, opening his pants and pulling his massive member out, aligning the huge, mushroom tip with your entrance and thrusting into you in one swift motion, not giving you time to adjust whatsoever. "Yeah, that's it, dirty whore. That's it. Sucking all of my cock in already, well, well. Such a needy brat. Such a dirty harlot."

You cried out, your nails digging into his forearms placed on the both sides of your head as he filled you completely, bottoming up in your tight pussy. The searing pain consumed your thoughts, and tears streamed down your cheeks as you panted quietly, trying to relax in hopes of easing the pain.

Sukuna groaned, his hips moving in a steady rhythm. "Your pussy feels so good, little minion. That's all you were made for. To be fucked stupid. To be used by me. You're nothing but a fucking piece of meat I can do whatever I want with, you little harlot."

You whimpered, parting your legs wider.

Sukuna's thrusts became harder, faster, primal. His cock hitting that sweet, spongy spot inside you that made you see all white. He began to increase his pace, his cock sliding in and out of your slick pussy. He fucked you rough and hard, his hips slamming into yours, your bodies slick with sweat.

You could feel a tight knot building within your tummy, your body trembling as pleasing warmth started to spread all of your being.

"Come for me, little bitch," Sukuna growled, his fingers digging into your hips as he slammed into you. Sukuna groaned, his pace quickening. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening. He grabbed your hips, raising them up from the mat and pulling you closer, his cock going deeper into your pussy at the new angle. "Open you mouth."

You were a moaning mess beneath him, and you didn't comply right away, so Ryomen simply slapped your cheek.

"Open your useless mouth!"

You complied, opening your mouth.

Sukuna leaned in close, spitting a glob of his saliva directly into your mouth. "Now, swallow," he commanded.

You screamed, complying; your body convulsing as you came hard around his cock, your velvety walls spasming rhythmically around the monstrous shaft stuffed in you.

Sukuna followed soon after, his cock pulsing as he filled you with a thick ropes of his cum.

The temple was silent, save your heavy breathing.

Sukuna pulled out of you, watching as his cum dripped out of your abused pussy. "Clean it up, mortal," he ordered, his voice still laced with authority as he pointed to his cock that stood proud still.

You obeyed, moving to position yourself between his legs and taking his softening cock into your mouth. You sucked and licked him clean, your eyes locked on his.

Sukuna yanked your head away by your hair, glancing down at your used form with a smirk. "I think this year's offering is the best these pathetic men have ever given me."

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna ryoumen smut #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk sukuna #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #sukuna #x reader smut #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x y/n #smut writing #smut fanfiction #divider by cafekitsune

[projectionistwrites]

moonboys and a reader who maladaptive daydreams?

hi, nonnie! thank you for this request, you must’ve seen my blog description haha. this is my first fic request which is very exciting! my inbox is always open so if you’d like to request something, i’d appreciate it. :) anyway, i hope you like it!

IMPLODING THE MIRAGE

Moon Knight x afab!reader (primarily Marc Spector) (10.6k+)

You’ve been escaping into yourself more and more often, and the boys are starting to notice. How are you supposed to explain to them that you don’t want to live in the moment, when the version of your life inside your head is so much better than reality on the outside?

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: maladaptive daydreaming, insecure reader & negative perceptions of self, depictions of injury & violence, kidnapping, miscommunication, SMUT (inappropriate fantasizing, unprotected p in v sex, cum eating, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics if you squint)

imploding the mirage — the killers

i had to do it, i had no other choice you’ve got to listen to the inside voice a bullet train will get you there fast but it won’t guarantee a long last sometimes it takes a little bit of courage and doubt to push your boundaries out beyond your imagining

He was the moon, and she was the stars.

It was serendipitous, how the couple had come to fall in love throughout the course of their divine adventures alongside each other—two servants to a pair of primordial Egyptian deities, serving as Avatars to protect those who could not protect themselves. She’d met him at a meeting of the Ennead, when he’d been called upon to answer for his actions against a human named Arthur Harrow, who was accused of attempting to raise Ammit from eternal isolation.

The trial hadn’t gone well, and certainly hadn’t worked in his favor, but her goddess protector had a soft spot for Khonshu, the God of the Moon—after all, he was the reason she had been given five extra days with which to bear her five children.

So her Avatar was secretly assigned to keep watch over the Moon Knight, to aid in his fight to keep Ammit contained and offer her services should he need them.

He was resistant at first, but Khonshu insisted that having Nut as an ally could only serve to benefit them in their journey—after all, she was the sky, and without her, the Moon could not rise.

Marc Spector and his alters didn't anticipate becoming so infatuated with the soft curve of her Avatar’s smile or the cosmos she seemed to hold within her eyes. But as time passed, they grew closer, and when she saved him again and again, the navy blue of her armor shimmering with glowing silver emblems of stars, he felt as if his soul was tethered to her. It seemed to be fate, as clear as a constellation, that their lives were somehow intertwined and their happenstance meeting was actually the result of some unseen gravitational pull, guiding them through the darkness until they found solace in one another.

He heard her sandal-clad feet softly hit the solid ground, her body drifting down from the sky to land beside him after her short flight in the air. He turned to look at her—the flowing robes of her ceremonial armor billowed in the evening breeze, her hair pulled back intricately with thin glittering bands of silver, adorned with five-pointed stars that captured the moonlight in her curls. She was ethereal, heavenly, celestial, and when she turned and smiled at him, he swore the planets aligned in some brief moment of rapture.

“Where to next, Moon Boy?”

She teased lightly, her nose crinkling with amusement. His hands twitched at his sides, unable to control the movement of his arm as it reached for her hand.

He heard Khonshu chuckle deeply from somewhere behind him, condescending and slightly mocking. Still, he always spoke kinder about the woman beside him than any other being on this Earth.

“I should’ve known you would become enamored with the little star. Nut always finds a way to reunite the beings of the night sky.”

Marc ignored him—he was too enthralled by the way her breath hitched in her throat at the feeling of his fingers brushing her own, the hood and mask of his armor receding to reveal the tenderness of his gaze. He turned to face her, his other gloved hand reaching to cradle the side of her jaw. He watched as her gaze flickered down to his lips, and he smiled.

“Anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”

He leaned forward to capture her lips with his own, swallowing her contented sigh as she melted into his touch—

“Jesus Christ!”

You nearly toppled forward when Marc abruptly yanked his arm away from you, his face contorted into a look of pain. You blinked once, then twice, eyes clearing to focus in on the blood staining your hands and the curved needle that was pinched tightly between your forefinger and thumb.

“The fuck was that? Are you even paying attention to what you’re doing?”

Marc hissed at you, cradling his injured forearm to his chest, gritting his teeth as your eyes widened in realization.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry, Marc, I zoned out, here, just let me see—”

“Forget it, I’ll just do it myself.”

He snatched the suture from your hand and laid his arm back on the marbled countertop of your bathroom sink, giving you a clear view of the mistake you’d made—you’d laid the stitch nearly a full inch from where the edge of the gaping incision had started, sinking it into completely uninjured, healthy skin.

“Marc, stop, I’ll do it.”

You stopped him before he could hurt himself even more—he never had the patience to treat his wounds properly, but for ones that were this deep, it was smarter to close them by hand than wait several hours for his magical suit to heal it on its own.

He grunted in protest, but nonetheless allowed you to retrieve the needle from his hold and lean over his arm, tongue pinched between your teeth in concentration.

You were much more careful, this time, deliberate with each pull of the thread beneath his skin, finishing sewing shut the injury quickly. When you’d finally finished, you leaned forward to bite the end of the stitch and tear it away with your teeth. You reached for a piece of gauze, pouring a generous amount of saline solution onto the cloth in order to blot the excess blood from his skin.

You could feel his eyes on you the whole time, burning into your skull as if he was trying to read your mind. You sulked.

“I said I was sorry, Marc, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Your words were soft, and he could hear the guilt that was churning in your stomach. He didn’t flinch when you began dabbing at the drying blood around the wound.

“S’fine. But—what happened? It’s like—you just tapped out for a second, there. Did you even hear what I was saying to you?”

You frowned.

“No, I’m sorry. I just—got lost in thought.”

“Hell of a time for that to happen.”

He chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood, but you didn’t laugh. Your eyes were still fixed on the skin of his arm, even though you’d successfully wiped away most of the remaining blood.

“I was just saying that—that I appreciate that you’re willing to do this for me.”

Your eyes darted to his face, surprised at the vulnerability he was displaying by expressing his gratitude.

“I mean—I never figured that when I’d stumbled onto your balcony all those months ago, beaten to all hell, that I’d meet someone who was willing to patch me up over and over again. Well—at least, before you stabbed me with a needle.”

Your eyes fell again, cheeks reddening at his jab. But he just laughed warmly, lifting his arm to rest his hand on your shoulder. Your bristled beneath his fingers, although his touch was nothing more than a friendly expression of appreciation.

“I’m just teasing you. But either way—just wanted to say thanks. Steven told me that I don’t say it enough, so...”

Now you laughed. It was more of a scoff, really, accompanied by the roll of your eyes as you reached for the knobs on the faucet, rinsing the blood from your fingers.

“Of course Steven made you.”

A lopsided grin found its way onto his face, and when you looked at him again, there was a twinkle in his eye. Your breath stuttered in your throat as you gazed at him—ebony curls spilling messily against his forehead, his lips quirked upwards at the corners, the fondness that was lingering beneath his brown irises. Was it possible? Could he really care about you the way you cared for him?

You turned away, standing and exiting the bathroom quickly before you could make a fool of yourself, face heating up at your own naïveté. Of course he didn’t feel that way about you. You were just—you. Only in the sanctuary of your imagination would he ever look at you and see anything beyond just a nurse playmate, or even maybe a friend.

You heard his heavy footsteps follow you back into your flat, where you wandered into the kitchen and retrieved a couple glasses.

“Do you mind if I—”

“Spare bed’s already made, I washed the sheets since last time you bled all over them and didn’t even tell me.”

You turned on the tap to fill the two cups with water. You were certain Marc hadn’t remembered to drink anything since his most recent escapade as a masked vigilante, and being around him always tended to make your mouth run dry.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

You slid the glass of water across the countertop towards him, leaning back against the kitchen island to sip at your own. You watched him above the rim of your glass—the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he took a large swig of the cool liquid, the way a stray droplet of water dribbled down his chin when he pulled the glass back, the way his hand came to wipe it away, the plush of his bottom lip supple beneath the swipe of his fingers.

She fell back against the mattress, breath temporarily stolen from her lungs as she felt the heat of his lips hungrily mouthing at any exposed skin it could reach—her jawline, her neck, her collarbone, the swell of her breasts. A soft whine fell from her mouth and Marc swiftly lifted himself back to her face to swallow the sound, tongue sinking into her mouth to taste her.

Her fingers clawed at the fabric of his t-shirt, twisting and yanking him impossibly closer, legs lifting to wrap around his waist to press the heat of her core against the growing tent in his pants. A low groan escaped his chest as he rutted against her, pulling back to take stock of the hazy fog of lust that clouded her eyes and the O-shape of her lips as she let out a shaky exhale.

“Fuck, Marc.”

She whispered, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders, fingers digging into his shoulderblades.

“Want you—need you so bad.”

“You’re doing it again.”

You blinked once, then twice, finding Marc's dark gaze staring straight at you as his voice pulled you back to reality. Your brows lifted in horror when you realized you’d shamelessly been ogling at him, too engrossed in your thoughts to notice how long you’d been standing there.

“Shit, I—sorry.”

You rubbed at your eyes with your fingers, hoping that maybe if you pressed hard enough, the image of Marc’s body hovering above you would erase itself from your mind. It didn’t work.

You heard the clank of his now-empty glass as he set it down on the granite countertop, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

You should be used to the rush of heat to your face by now—just being in Marc’s company caused you to blush uncontrollably, but still, the discomfort of your ruddy cheeks made your pulse quicken. Your gaze flickered down to your feet, eyes meeting the stupid fucking bunny slippers that you wore to accompany your fleece pajama bottoms. Fucking embarrassing.

“It’s nothing, Marc.”

You whispered quietly in response, although nausea was beginning to settle in the pit of your stomach. You were out of control—this man was driving you insane.

He studied you for a moment longer, eyes narrowed in suspicion, but when you didn’t look back up at him, he just sighed.

“Okay. I’ll just—leave you alone, then. Goodnight.”

There were tears pricking the back of your eyes. You wanted to ask him to stay, to come share your bed instead of the one in your guest room, to kiss his stupidly handsome face.

“Towels are folded in the bathroom for you, and there’s clothes in the wardrobe if you want to change.”

You said instead, turning to refill your glass of water in the sink behind you. If he heard you, he didn’t respond—you listened to his footsteps disappear down the hall before the door to the guest bedroom creaked shut with a quiet click. Your shoulders immediately slumped forward, eyes squeezed shut tightly in an effort to combat the desperate urge to break down.

Her eyes were full of detestation as she glared down at him, nostrils flared with rage. He wanted to shrink beneath her disapproval.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

The woman started, and in spite of her towering figure looking down at him, he couldn’t help but gawk at the way the moonlight framed her, her silhouette outlined by the subtle glow of the night sky behind her. She offered him a hand and he took it, allowing her to yank him to his feet without an ounce of gentleness.

“You’re lucky I was here, Lockley, or things would’ve ended differently.”

She hissed, dusting herself off as if to showcase the strenuous effort she had put into saving his ass. He scowled behind his mask, the blood from the wound on his forearm beginning to soak through the bandages of his suit, tingeing the cream-colored fabric a dark crimson.

“I don’t need your help, estrellita. I was handling it.”

She scoffed as he turned on his heel to stomp away, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

“Yeah, sure looked like you were handling it—why didn’t you call me? Nut had to drag me out of bed so you didn’t get yourself killed. Didn’t the old bird tell you we were together on this?”

He scowled, eyes narrowed in contempt.

“Yeah, he did, and I said no. We are not partners. We’re hardly even friends.”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, the way her face fell and her brows creased causing a pang of guilt to stab through his already-sore chest. He sighed.

“Estrellita, I didn’t mean—”

“Why do you push me away?”

She interrupted, and Jake was taken aback by the question.

“What do you mean?”

“You need me, Jake. We need each other. I’m just—I just want to help you, why won’t you let me help you?”

He didn’t respond, just stared at her as her eyes flooded with tears. At his silence, she shook her head, turning away to stare up into the star-filled sky.

“We’re supposed to be a team, Moon Knight. The stars and the moon—you can’t have one without the other.”

He could see the reflection of the crescent-shaped moon in her glassy eyes, the soft glow painting her face with silvery beams of light.

You’d left the balcony door wide open—your routine was fairly habitual, now. A mug of warm tea was cradled in your fingers as you curled up in the wicker chair, eyes flitting across the scattered stars that were visible from your tiny apartment complex.

You watched him sit down beside you in your periphery, the movement to your left pulling you from your reverie. He reached for the glass of bourbon you'd set out on the table in front of him.

You sat in silence for awhile, finding comfort in the man’s quiet presence. You liked that about Jake—you never felt like you had to fill the air with meaningless conversation. He was perfectly content to just enjoy your company, the same as you enjoyed his.

You heard the ice in his glass clink against the side as he took a sip.

“Are you going to tell them?”

Neither of you looked at each other when he spoke—the question was spoken out into the world, not really directed towards you, although you knew what he meant.

Jake was too fucking perceptive for his own good. Even when he was silent, he was always there, watching, listening, observing—even if the other alters were oblivious to the yearning that was thinly veiled within your eyes, he certainly wasn’t. You sighed.

“No.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, but something about his lack of verbal response bothered you, itching at the back of your brain. You turned to scowl at him.

“What?”

Jake hardly spared you a glance, barely quirking a brow at your emotionally-charged reaction as he shook his head.

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly.”

You glared, fingers anxiously tapping at the rim of your mug. The contours of Jake’s face were sharp in the dim light of the moon, features accentuated by the shadows. He finally turned to look at you.

“You know what I think, nena. You’re only hurting yourself. And your constant...daydreaming. It’s not as subtle as it once was. You—You should talk to them. Or me.”

The last bit of his proposal caught you off guard. His eyes had already drifted elsewhere when he said it, staring into his half-empty glass of liquor, but your brows lifted in surprise.

“I—you?”

He glowered playfully.

“Don’t sound so surprised, nena. I always listen to you.”

That was true. Some of your fondest memories with Jake were of late nights spent out on your balcony, getting drunk on cheap wine and sharing stories.

“Yeah, you’re good at listening, but not so much the talking part.”

Jake shrugged, although he nodded in understanding. He was all too aware of his own weaknesses.

You took a sip of your chamomile tea, letting its warmth combat the chill of the evening air.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

You asked quietly, and even without elaborating, Jake knew what you were referring to. He sighed, tossing back the last of his bourbon before setting it on the small table between you, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I’ve told you before. It’s not my place. I know what they think, but not what they feel.”

You huffed quietly, although deep down, you knew he was right. It wasn’t his place to share how Marc or Steven felt about you. You sort of admired the way he was so strict in his moral obligations—especially considering the lengths you were willing to go in order to change his mind.

Jake stiffened when he felt your hand rest on his bicep, fingers wrapping around it and squeezing lightly.

“But what about how you feel?”

His jaw rippled, and you felt the muscle beneath your fingers tense at your coy words. You could feel the restraint within him as he sat up abruptly, pulling away so his arm fell from your grasp. He still didn’t look at you.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel, nena. Not until you talk to Marc. He—you were his first. I’m not going jeopardize your relationship with him until he knows the truth.”

Anger flared within you.

“I’m not his. I don’t belong to anyone. My choices are my own.”

Jake flinched, eyes softening as they flickered over to you.

“You’re right, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it like that. I just—you have to understand. He—I can’t go behind his back like this. Yo no sería capaz de vivir conmigo mismo.”

“But you can’t even tell me if he feels the same way?”

You asked, and he could hear the pain in your voice as your tone wavered slightly. You’d had this conversation many times before, but things had been escalating recently—perhaps because it was getting increasingly difficult for you to be content in the reality you lived in.

Jake’s eyes were full of sympathy as he regarded you.

“No, nena. I’m sorry.”

You turned away.

“But you need to tell him. And Steven, too. They deserve to know. And so do you.”

You heard his weight shift as he stood to head back to bed, having spent too much time keeping the body awake—he didn’t want his alters to grow suspicious at the exhaustion when they woke in the morning.

“What if he breaks my heart?”

He paused in the threshold on the doorway, glancing back at you when he heard the thickness in your throat as your eyes welled with tears.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

Jake pursed his lips, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he pondered his response. Finally, he released a long sigh.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, nena. He’d be crazy not to.”

The smell of cinnamon wafted down the hallway as Steven rose from his slumber. There was a gentle melody floating in the air as he pulled himself from the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes, his bare feet padding along the tiled floor towards the source of the noise.

She was singing quietly to herself, back towards him as she chopped the fresh strawberries into fourths. He couldn’t help but smile at the domesticity of it all—the woman he loved, that he fought beside, making breakfast for them to share. His heart felt whole.

He sidled up behind her, arms wrapping around her waist and his body pressing flush against her back. He placed a kiss to the exposed skin of her neck, her hair pulled up in a sloppy updo.

“G’mornin’, darling.”

He hummed sleepily, and he felt her chest rumble with an airy giggle as she leaned into his touch.

“Hi, handsome. Sleep okay?”

He reached over her shoulder to steal a strawberry from the cutting board, taking a bite of the succulent fruit before offering the other half to her by pressing it to her lips. She smiled and happily accepted his offering.

“Would’ve slept even better if I’d woken up to your face beside me.”

She threw her head back, leaning against his chest as she laughed brightly—his favorite sound.

“Oh, boohoo. Sorry for getting up early to make you breakfast.”

She teased, and Steven pressed his face into her hair, the smell of her coconut shampoo enticing him. His arms reached to rest on the countertop to either side of her, successfully caging her in. He heard her breath hitch as the movement of the knife in her hand stalled, his body pressing up more firmly against her—enough so that she could feel the hardness of his manhood against the flesh of her ass.

“The strawberries are sweet, darling, but I’d rather have something even sweeter for breakfast this mornin’, yeah?”

“G’mornin’, darling.”

The knife fumbled in your grasp and the blade slipped across your fingers, slicing a divot in the tender flesh between your thumb and forefinger.

“Steven! Shit!”

You immediately dropped the knife and rushed towards the sink, rinsing your wound under the cold water to inspect the damage and dilute the blood.

“Oh, Gods, m’so sorry, love—are you alright?”

You could feel his body creeping up behind you, an arm reaching around to grab yours in an attempt to investigate the source of your discomfort. The warmth of his presence against your back startled you, a fierce blush rising to your cheeks as you reached for a towel and sidestepped, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“It’s—I’m fine. It’s just a tiny cut, it’s no big deal.”

You brushed it off, although your palm was beginning to throb. You pulled the washcloth away from the afflicted area, finding it soaked with a generous amount of your blood.

“Looks like it hurts. Can I—may I help you with it?”

There was trepidation in his big brown eyes, obviously put off by the hastiness with which you’d pulled away from him. You surrendered yourself, offering a sigh and a slow nod.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You found yourself in a similar position to the previous night, although this time, the roles were reversed—and your wound was from an unfortunate kitchen incident, not a scuffle with a group of evil antique smugglers.

Steven’s bottom lip was pulled between his teeth as he secured a piece of gauze on the injury with medical tape, winding it around your palm so it fit snugly against the area. His hands were nimble and his touch was painfully gentle, the pads of his fingers just barely skimming over your skin in an effort to prevent you from more discomfort. A chill crept up your spine at the close proximity.

He looked rather satisfied with himself when he’d finished, shoving the medical supplies back into the bin beneath your sink that you had specially packed for him.

“There we are—good as new.”

He smiled cheerily at you, and it was so contagious that you couldn’t help but grin back at him. Your mind briefly darted back to your conversation with Jake the night before; then the unholy thoughts you’d been having this morning when Steven had snuck up on you. Gods, you really were getting out of control...

Steven led you from the bathroom and you returned to your post, rinsing the knife and the sliced strawberries to ensure they weren’t contaminated. You stepped over to the stove to check the steel-cut oatmeal that had been simmering—Steven’s favorite. You gave it a few good stirs before deciding that it was finished, filling up two bowls with generous servings and sprinkling the top with strawberries, brown sugar, and a pinch of cinnamon. Steven was already seated at you breakfast bar when you turned to offer him his meal.

“Bon apétit.”

You flourished playfully, passing the bowl in front of him as you seated yourself on the stool across the way. His eyes crinkled with appreciation when he smiled.

“Oh, it smells bloody lovely. Thank you, darling.”

He always called you that, you rationalized. It was nothing more than a term of endearment—a friendly pet name.

You ate in silence for awhile, save for the sound of silverware clinking against porcelain and the birds chirping from your open window. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow him as he slipped a strawberry past his lips, something reminiscent of a moan escaping him as he savored the flavor of the fruit. Your face flushed bright red.

“Yes, darling—just like that, please.”

He was whimpering beneath her, pupils blown wide as he gazed up at her from where she straddled him, sliding her naked and exposed core over his boxer-clad erection.

“You wanna be inside me, Steven?”

She cooed, leaning forward to kiss along his stubbled jawline, and he moaned wantonly, hips rutting up against her.

“Gods, yes, love, please, I can’t—”

“S’there somethin’ on my face?”

Panic flooded you at the bewildered expression on Steven’s face, his hand coming up to wipe at his mouth in case you'd been gawking at some remnants of food on the corners of his lips.

You shook your head, eyes wide and cheeks already turning pink.

“I—No, no, there’s not, I—sorry. I was just—just thinking.”

He gave you a brief scrutinizing look before shrugging and diving back into the remainder of his oatmeal.

“What were you thinkin’ about?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Oh, it’s—nothing, really. Sometimes I just—space out, I guess.”

You offered sheepishly, toying with the last few bites of your food with your spoon—your appetite was suddenly gone.

“You seem to do that a lot, yeah? S’everything alright?”

“Yes.”

You answered him a bit too quickly, hastily jumping to end the conversation before it even began. His brows furrowed, watching as you quickly grabbed both bowls to busy yourself with cleaning up.

He wasn’t quite satisfied with your answer—in fact, it only served to startle him more. He watched you carefully as you began to viciously scrub at the blue porcelain bowls with a sponge.

“Are you...sure? I’m just—you’re worryin’ me a bit, yeah? And with last night, with Marc—if somethin’s the matter, you know you can always talk to us, ‘lright?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to take in a slow, careful breath in an effort to soothe your frazzled nerves.

“Yeah, I know, Steven—thank you. But—but everything’s just fine, really.”

She’s lying.

Steven was surprised to hear Jake’s voice echo from the back of the headspace—it wasn’t often that he offered internal commentary to any conversations outside of when he was fronting.

And how do you know that?

Marc quipped back in his mind—Steven hated when they argued in the headspace, especially when he was the one in control of the body. His brain felt too full and it was easy for him to get overstimulated.

What—you think she’s telling the truth, jefe?

Marc didn’t respond, and Steven was silently grateful that their quarrel had ended quickly. Still, he knew his alters were correct—you definitely weren’t ‘just fine.’

But the last thing he wanted to do was push you away, especially since it already felt like you were putting up a wall between you, keeping him at arm’s length.

He let out a long sigh, standing up from the bar to get ready to depart for his shift at the museum.

“Well, thank you for brekky, love, and for—everything else.”

You startled when you turned, finding him standing directly behind you, pulling you into his warm embrace without any due warning. God, why was he so fucking sweet? Guilt gnawed away are your insides—Jake was right. He really did deserve to know the truth, why you were spending more time living in your fantasyland than grounded in reality—but surely it’d scare him off. Marc, too.

Perhaps it was just better to keep imagining what it would be like to be loved by them—at least without being outright rejected, there would always be that small sliver of hope gleaming in the back of your mind, that tiny semblance of ‘what if’ that you let linger.

You melted into his arms, face pressed into his shoulder.

“Anytime, Steven, really. It’s my pleasure.”

There was always a smile on her face when they departed—even if their time away from each other was difficult, she knew she could look forward to the next time they'd see each other. The way his big brown eyes would light up with elation when he saw her, like an overexcited puppy reuniting with its owner.

The grin remained on her face, still, after he’d kissed her goodbye and they parted ways. She hummed softly to herself as she journeyed down the hallway to remake the bed and tidy up the room.

He never did remember to tuck in the blankets. She laughed quietly to herself and she entered the room, filled with the distinctive cypress scent of him. She reached to fluff the pillows—

Oh. That shouldn’t be there, should it?

Your fingers wrapped around the small white trinket, strung along on a leather braided band. You lifted it up to your face to inspect it more closely—it was an pendant carved from ivory, shaped like a cross with a loop at the top. An ankh—the key of life—you recalled, as Steven had once taught you. There was a certain texture that ran along the sides, and only when you brought the object right up to your nose were you able to see that there was a teeny tiny pattern etched into the surface. Hieroglyphics.

Shit, you realized. This looked like something that would be in the museum Steven worked at—although it looked a bit too high quality to be sold in the gift shop. Nonetheless, you realized that it must’ve slipped from his pocket while he was getting dressed. What if it was important?

You wandered back to the kitchen and tried calling his cell, once, then twice, without receiving an answer. He was probably already being berated by Donna—oh, well. The museum was on your way to work anyhow, just one bus stop before the café that you worked at. You could swing by and give it to him before your shift.

You glanced down at your phone to shoot him a quick text.

hey, you forgot something here i’ll drop it off for you in a bit x

It was only when you were strolling down the street with the pendant strung around your neck that a thrill of excitement ran up your spine.

What if this was from his latest mission?

It wasn’t something you’d considered before, but now that you thought about it, it seemed like the likeliest explanation. The boys didn’t tell you much about their escapades as the masked lunar vigilante, save for the vague explanations about the injuries they asked you to patch up—but you knew enough to be two-and-two together. This must be the ancient artifact he had been sent to retrieve on Khonshu’s behalf the previous night.

You suppressed a smile by sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, filled with giddiness. You were actually helping.

“Where is it?”

A venomous voice seethed, peering down at the crumpled form of the man at his feet. Marc was hunched over, arms chained behind his back, blood from his abdomen beginning to soak through the white fabric of his suit. His mouth tasted like copper, teeth coated in the sticky red substance as a gruff hand came to harshly grip his jaw, forcing his eyes upward. He sneered.

“I told you. I don’t know.”

Another punch collided with his face, this time connecting with the bridge of his nose and sending him careening backwards, landing against the concrete with a grunt.

“You’re full of shit. We know it was you at the burial site, Spector. We have eyewitnesses. You’re the only person in the world who could have possibly taken it.”

To the man's utter surprise, Marc Spector began to laugh. It was a wet sound, his mask receding so he could spit out a wad of crimson-tinted bile as he chuckled wolfishly, his lips curling up into a snarl. The perpetrator felt fear shoot through him at the look on his face.

“You’re wrong, actually. See, I was there.”

He clarified, eyes glinting dangerously. His attacker stumbled backwards as a harsh silver light blinded him briefly, and when his vision cleared, the Moon Knight had risen to his feet, freed from his shackles.

“I just wasn’t alone.”

The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he slowly turned around, met face to face with intense glare of a woman, her eyes still glowing with residual power. She tilted her head at him condescendingly, before lifting her right hand—the white ankh charm was dangling from her fingertips as she smiled coyly up at him.

“Looking for this?”

She cooed, smirking innocently, and before the man could even blink, she had pounced, wrestling him to the floor and pressing his face down against the cold flooring, cheek smushed against the pavement. She straddled his back, using her weight to hold him still while her fingers made a curling motion in the air—a rope of pure silvery light materialized with the sweep of her hand, binding the man’s hands behind his back with tendrils of starlight.

Her partner was dealing with the other two lackeys, one already laid out on the ground and the other lifted in the air by his neck, one of Marc’s gloved hands raising him up with his fingers pressing beneath his jaw.

When he stopped resisting, Marc let his body collapse to the floor in a heap before he turned back to face the woman, whose chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths. Even after a fight, she somehow appeared graceful and collected—she reached upward and pulled a stray hair from her eyes, tucking it back into it’s place beneath her star-laden headdress. Their eyes met briefly.

“Thanks.”

Marc swallowed, his head bowed low in embarrassment. He waited for the jab to come—‘I told you so.’ He deserved it, really. It was stupid to come in alone.

Instead, he was startled when she approached him softly, her eyes glittering as she lifted her hand to gently brush over his cheekbone, her smile gentle and kind.

“I’ll always have your back. You know that, right?”

He looked away, ridden with guilt and remorse, but she urged his eyes back to her with the nudge of her fingers.

“Marc. I mean it.”

He felt tears stinging the back of his eyes as he sniffed, trying to play off his emotions with fabricated nonchalance.

“Yeah, I know.”

She nodded once, withdrawing her hand from his face before lifting the ancient artifact up to his face, waving it for emphasis.

“We should probably get this to the old bird, then, huh?”

Her head snapped to the side at the gust of wind that abruptly passed them, her eyes trailing up the heavenly form of the aforementioned deity, the slope of his ivory beak towering above her. She swallowed—she’d never actually seen him before, only heard of him in passing from his Avatar. Khonshu.

Time seemed to freeze, briefly, as her breath slowly made its way back to her lungs. The skeletal bird tilted his domineering skull downward, staring her down with intensity.

“Wake up, little star.”

Her brows furrowed, her jaw dropping to reply, but he interrupted.

“You are not a part of this. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

Her head started to swim, the image in front of her turning hazy as her vision began to blur. She blinked profusely. This isn’t a part of the script, this isn’t supposed to happen—

“Wake up!”

With a jolt, you were pulled from your daydream—just in time for a hand to slip over your mouth to muffle your scream before everything went dark.

When your eyes blinked open, heavy with exhaustion, you were staring up at the white ceiling of your bedroom. You made a move to sit up, but the movement caused a throbbing pain to bloom in the back of your skull, forcing you back down against the pillows as a groan of discomfort fell from your lips. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to regain your bearings, when a set of heavy footsteps grabbed your attention from the hallway.

He faltered in the doorway when he made eye contact with you, his dark brows furrowed heavily with concern, dark purple bags settled beneath his lower lashes. When his initial shock wore off, his jaw set as he approached you slowly, a glass of tap water clutched in his left hand. He perched carefully on the edge of the bed, mindful not the nudge you.

“Marc?”

You croaked, your throat hoarse and dry, and he wordlessly reached forward, propping you further up onto the pillows before lifting the glass to your lips.

“Drink.”

He said sternly, pressing the rim to your mouth, and you obliged blindly, letting him tip the contents of the cup back into your mouth as you took slow, tentative sips. When he was satisfied with your water intake, he pulled the glass away and set it on the bedside table, the movement punctuated by a heavy sigh. Your eyes followed him carefully, brows knit together in confusion.

“I—what happened?”

You asked slowly, sitting yourself upward just a bit more. The pain in your head was lessening, although their was still a dull ache lingering at the back of your neck. You could see his jaw ripple again as he clenched his teeth, his body facing the door and his eyes focused on the wall across from him. You studied his profile carefully before he ran a tired hand down his face, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers.

“What do you remember?”

He prompted, and you hesitated, thinking back on the last thing you recalled. You remembered leaving for work, and finding the little white pendant you were planning on returning—and you remember getting lost in another fantasy before a hand clamped around your mouth and—

“Was I kidnapped?”

You asked incredulously, eyes blowing wide with realization as you recalled the sensation of a strong grasp around your face and neck before your fell unconscious. You watched his lip twitch with frustration.

“No. Well—yes. But you, I mean—what the fuck were you thinking?”

He finally turned to look at you, and when he did, you immediately wanted to shrink away and evaporate. His eyes were fiery, burning red hot with fury, the disapproving expression on his face striking something deep in your chest.

“What do you mean?”

You asked quietly, feeling tears begin to prick at your eyes, and Marc stood up, running a hand through his unruly curls as he took in a deep breath, obviously attempting to maintain some semblance of composure.

“You almost got yourself killed—bringing that charm with you, parading it around like a trophy.”

“I didn’t know, Marc, I just—”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t let you get wrapped up in all of this—fuck, if I hadn’t been there...”

His back was towards you, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, his body heaving with heavy panting breaths. You felt small, like a child being reprimanded. You felt your eyes flood with tears.

“I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well, don’t.”

His voice was firm and harsh as he snapped over his shoulder at you, glaring.

“You can’t help. You’re not a part of this.”

You felt your heart hammering in your chest, desperation clawing inside of you as you threw back the blankets, swinging your legs off the side of the mattress so you could approach him.

“But maybe I can, Marc, if you’d just give me a chance, if you’d let me—”

“Stop!”

He whipped around to face you, voice louder than you'd ever heard it before. He was yelling, towering over you as he snarled, fuming.

“Just stop. If you keep this up, you’re gonna get yourself and a lot of other people hurt. You’re not a fucking Avatar—”

“You don’t think I know that?”

Marc flinched when you matched his intensity, the tears falling down your cheeks a stark contrast from the sheer anger that dominated your expression.

“You don’t think I realize that? Or think about it every goddamn night when I have to sit here, alone, wondering if you’re gonna show up, or if you’re somewhere dead and I can’t do anything but wait.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, attempting to swallow your tears down as you broke down in front of the man, your internal conflict reaching a boiling point and spewing out of you without warning.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve wished I could be out there with you, doing something, helping, anything—how often I imagine what it would be like if I wasn’t fucking useless, if I was actually a part of—”

“What did you just say?”

Your eyes snapped open, and your anger faltered when you saw the look of pure horror on Marc’s face, his skin looking several shades paler than it had before. Your mind was reeling, trying to look back on what you said, what your mistake had been, but he quickly clarified for you.

“Did you just—are you saying you wish you were an Avatar?”

His body was rigid, his expression suddenly stony and impenetrable as he looked down at you, offering a barely perceptible shake of his head as he grimaced.

“How could you—how could you possibly want that? Why would you ever—”

You could see his eyes turn glassy as he turned away, his chest beginning to heave again as he ran both of his hands through his hair anxiously, his gaze suddenly appearing frenzied. His words were laced with something adjacent to betrayal.

“You have no idea what—what I wouldn’t give to go back to my life before all of this, to—to not carry this weight, to not—I fucking kill people, do you not understand that? I’m a monster, because my life is fucking controlled by a monster, and you wish you were like me? You wanna suffer like this?”

“At least we’d be suffering together.”

It was barely more than a whisper, your addition, but Marc caught it. You couldn’t bear to look at him anymore—you turned and sat back on the bed, folding your hands in your lap and staring down at your fingers as your heart finally poured out of your chest.

“I don’t know what else I could do, Marc. I don’t know any other way to get you to actually see me.”

“See you?”

He asked incredulously, face marred with confusion, and your lip quivered as you looked anywhere but at him, awaiting his rejection as you spoke.

“I just—all I’ve ever wanted was to be able to help you. To—for you to trust me, for you to—to care about me, and—and the only scenario I can actually imagine you wanting me is if I’m not myself, I’m a version of myself that’s actually strong and capable and—”

You stifled a sob, your face scrunching up as your arms wrapped around yourself in a protective stance, huddling inward as you cried.

“—I don’t know what I’m trying to say, but I just—I want to be more than I am because—because I want to matter to you, Marc, but I know that won’t happen because I’m just—I’m just me.”

Marc fell silent. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you squeezed your bleary eyes shut, forcing yourself to take slow, deliberate inhales despite your desire to hyperventilate. You felt like the room was closing in on you, the walls shrinking and shrinking and you wished the space would swallow you whole.

“What have I done to ever make you think you don’t matter to me?”

His voice was soft and quiet, and when you blinked your tear-filled eyes open, he was staring at you, a look of genuine hurt on his chiseled features. You stuttered.

“I—what?”

“I—”

You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly.

“Why would you ever think that I don’t care about you? That you have to—to be someone else for that to happen?”

He sounded broken, his big brown eyes wide and imploring, and the sight made your chest feel tight. You pressed the butts of your palms into your eyes.

“I don’t know, Marc. You’re—you’re a fuckin’ superpowered badass who was chosen by an ancient Egyptian god to beat up monsters and go on these epic missions, and—and how can I even compete with that? I don’t even understand why you waste your time with me.”

“Why do you keep saying things like that?”

You startled when he took a few hulking steps towards you, his brows creasing in a look of frustration.

“If you’re so convinced that I’m some superior being to you—which I’m not—then rationalize that, for me. Why would I keep coming back if I didn’t care about you?”

Confusion flashed across your face as you contemplated his question.

“Because—because I patch you up when you get hurt, and I—and I take care of you. You only come here when you need something—”

“But that’s not true.”

He insisted, sounding exasperated with your obstinance.

“I have a magic suit of armor that heals me, I don’t even need you to stitch me back together—”

“But you told me—”

“Well, I lied.”

He snapped, his arms crossing over his chest, and you felt a foreign feeling flutter in the pit of your stomach as his hands came up to rub at his jaw—a nervous habit.

“It was an excuse, and honestly, not even a very convincing one. An excuse to see you.”

Your head was starting to pound again, a dull ache blooming behind your eyes as your mind continued to reel. It didn’t make any sense.

“But you—you never needed an excuse. I would’ve dropped everything for you, Marc—for all three of you.”

“I know.”

He nodded sadly, his face pained as he flinched at your words.

“And that’s what’s so bad about all of this. I shouldn’t have—you shouldn’t feel that way about me. I’m—it’s dangerous. I’ve been trying so hard to push you away because if something happens to you, if you get hurt—that’s on me. And I don’t know what I’d do with myself if—”

“I’m a big girl, Marc.”

You defended, and he seemed impressed with the conviction of your tone.

“You’ve never been anything but honest about the kind of life you live, the kind of things you do—if that scared me, you wouldn’t be standing here right now. I made that choice for myself.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, his lips parting to scold you or deny your claims, but there was resolve in his eyes. You watched as he slowly walked towards the bed, slumping into a seated position beside you, utterly defeated.

“I know.”

It was difficult for you to focus with the proximity of your bodies. He’d left a generous gap between the two of you, but his legs were spread wide as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and your legs were almost touching. It was unbearable.

“I always thought you were taking advantage of me.”

You spoke smally, a bit ashamed and hesitant to admit the truth, and you saw Marc’s shoulders tense before he hung his head low, a deep sigh coming from his chest.

“Yeah. Jake told me that you might be feeling that way.”

Your eyes darted to his face, taken completely by surprise.

“He—he did?”

Marc chuckled ruefully, scoffing a bit at his alter.

“And I never fuckin’ listened. Told me I needed to come clean—be honest about how I feel, or else I’ll just keep hurting you more—”

“I didn’t realize he’d actually tried to talk to you about it.”

Marc’s brows furrowed.

“Wait, are you—did you tell him that?”

You blushed, feeling somewhat guilty as you nodded. You weren’t proud of the fact that you’d been talking about Marc and Steven behind their backs to their other alter.

“Why did—why didn’t you just talk to me?”

Marc leaned towards you, trying to catch your gaze with his, but you quickly looked forward again, eyes focusing in on your shaky hands.

“I didn’t know if—I never had to question things with Jake. He’s never been shy about how he feels about me.”

“Jake’s never been shy about anything in his entire goddamn life.”

You actually giggled at that, Marc’s tone sour and somewhat envious, but a soft smile easily curled on his lips at the sound of your laughter. When your amusement faded slightly, your breath caught in your throat when you felt a warm hand fall atop your knee, thumb rubbing over the flesh gently. You stared at the place where his skin met yours, heat flushing your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. If I would’ve known sooner—if he’d have told me—”

You shook your head quickly, dismissing his apology.

“No, don’t. I made him promise me he wouldn’t tell you. And—and the reason I didn’t say anything is, well—he would never tell me if you felt the same, so I didn’t—I just kind of assumed you didn’t.”

“I don’t understand why you think so little of yourself.”

His fingers gripped your knee a bit more firmly, the heat of his hand traveling upwards despite your attempts to stop it.

“You really think—thought the only way I’d want you is if you were an Avatar?”

You laughed wetly, swiping the last of your tears from beneath your eyes as you shook your head abashedly.

“When you say it out loud, it sounds so fucking stupid.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid.”

He corrected, and you froze when you felt his hand lift from your knee to reach towards your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear so he could see you more clearly. His fingers slipped beneath your jaw and gently coaxed your head to face him. You forgot how to breathe.

“It’s just not true.”

“Baby, I’ve wanted you since the day I met you, Avatar or not.”

She let out a quiet gasp at his confession, face lighting up with delight as he surged forward and captured her lips with his own, whimpering against her mouth as his arms encircled her body. He guided her back towards the bed, laying her out beneath him, looking absolutely heavenly, truly ravishing, and the sight made him ravenous as he worshipped her, starting by dragging his tongue—

“Hey. Where’d you go?”

It was only a brief moment of wistfulness, your daydream, but Marc saw the way your eyes misted and filled with a faraway look. He let his fingers dance across the softness of your neck before reaching to cradle your jaw in his hand, fingers threading into the hair behind your left ear.

You blinked away your reverie, trying to ground yourself in the present regardless of how desperately you wanted to fantasize about how much you craved him, how much you just wished he wanted you—

“Sorry.”

You uttered, voice barely above a whisper, and you blinked up at him through your wet lashes, doe-eyed. Your shame quickly melted away into something entirely different when you saw the ghost of a smile flicker over his lips.

“What were you thinking about?”

Your breathing stuttered, and you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off quickly, the timbre of his voice low and gravelly.

“You can tell me, sweetheart. Whatever it was, whatever you want—I’ll give it to you.”

It all became too much too quickly—the swirling heat of desire coiling lowly in your abdomen, the warmth of his exhales across your face, the roughness of his hands against the soft skin of your cheek, the almost taunting gleam in his dark eyes. His promise emboldened you, and without much thought, you surged forward and captured his lips in your own, whimpering against his mouth as your arms encircled his body.

He was quick to meet your pace, his free arm twisting to wrap around your lower back so he could pull you into his lap, one of your hands sinking into his brown curls and the other digging into his right shoulder. You heard him groan into your lips and you took the opportunity to sink your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss as you pressed your body flush against him, desperately seeking as much closeness as possible.

When his lips left yours and began to trail down your jaw and throat, you were pulled out of your stupor.

“Wait—wait.”

You whispered, fingers tugging at his curls so you could see his face. His brows furrowed in concern as he looked at you with worried eyes, his lips dewy and kiss-swollen.

“What’s wrong?”

He asked carefully, his voice gruff but still attentive, and you lifted both hands to cradle his face, thumbs sweeping over his cheekbones as you drank in his features, studying his face carefully.

“I just—”

You let out a shaky exhale, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

“I need to know that this is real. That you’re—that this is all real.”

He pulled away from you slightly, grinning somewhat wolfishly at you.

“This is real, baby—does it feel real?”

You nodded eagerly, your lips still tingling from the severity of his kisses, and he pulled you in for another one, his touch deliciously bruising.

When he pulled away again, you felt his fingers trace down your arm before he grabbed your hand in his. Your brows furrowed in confusion as he guided your grasp between your bodies, but your hips jolted when he pressed your hand into the hardness of his bulge in his jeans. You whimpered at the feeling, fingers curling around his length to squeeze him. His lashes fluttered.

“Yeah, baby—you feel what you do to me? That’s fuckin’ real.”

You felt yourself grow increasingly desperate at his words, fingers curling into the hem of his shirt and yanking it over his head with abandon. He seemed in tune with your own neediness because pretty soon, clothes were being ripped off and haphazardly tossed around the room, lips meeting newly-exposed skin at every opportunity.

You were laid out beneath him, his body slotted between your parted legs as he hovered over you, pumping his cock languidly as he gazed down at you with hooded eyes.

“I’ve pictured this, too, you know.”

You felt a small smile find your face.

“Really?”

He bit his lip, the pace of his hand jerking his length speeding up just slightly.

“Oh, fuck yeah, baby. You’re even more beautiful than I ever imagined.”

His sweet compliment was a stark contrast to the depravity of the current situation, but you could hear the sincerity in his words. You smiled up at him, reaching forward to take his cock in your grasp and line him up with your awaiting entrance.

“And you’re even bigger than I ever imagined.”

You purred, watching his eyes flash with pride as he leaned forward to brush the tip of his cock through your sopping folds, causing you to mewl unsurepetitiously.

“Please, Marc, shit—I can’t wait anymore, please.”

He grinned wickedly down at you, and before you could even take a breath, he was plunging into you with force, his cock sheathing itself fully within the softness of your cunt.

He choked above you, his arm slamming down on the mattress beside your head for support, his fist curling into the sheets.

“Jesus fuck, you’re tight.”

He breathed out, his expression almost pained with just how perfectly your walls were squeezing him.

The sudden intrusion was a startling sensation, but the burn of the stretch was quickly evolving into an addictive sting of pleasure.

“Oh, God, yes—move, Marc, please.”

You begged, brows furrowed deeply, and Marc quickly obliged, starting a rapid pace as he hammered into you, his hips snapping forward with jarring strength. The sound of slapping skin echoed within the room and only served to add to your arousal, the noises leaving your lips sinful and completely involuntary.

“Fuck yeah, baby—is this what you wanted? This what you’ve been daydreaming about, huh? My cock filling you up?”

You moaned wantonly, back arching at Marc’s words. His curls were falling across his forehead, dampened with sweat, and you reached up to grip his shoulders for support, fingernails digging into the carved muscle.

“Yes, fuck, yes—so good, Marc, so fucking good—”

He reached down and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you, the new angle earning a sharp cry. Your walls were fluttering around him.

“Yeah, you wanna cum, baby? You wanna cum on my cock?” He hand reached between your bodies to thumb at your clit, and the added stimulation sent you suddenly toppling over the edge into your orgasm, your eyes rolling back into your head as you let out a long, drawn-out moan.

“Yeah, attagirl—fuck yeah.”

Your walls were clamping down on him, pulsing rhythmically over the ridges of his cock, and he felt his release rapidly approaching.

“You want my cum, baby?”

You nodded frantically at him, eyes wild with desperation, and Marc groaned as his pace began to stutter.

“Where, baby? Where do you want it?”

You fingers sank further into the flesh of his shoulders.

“Mouth—want you to cum in my mouth.”

Your request alone was enough to send him hurtling over the edge.

“Oh, shit, gonna cum—”

He pulled out of you quickly, hand reaching down to fervidly fist at his cock as he crawled forward to straddle your stomach on his knees—you eagerly leaned forward just in time as his balls drew up tight, his cum shooting straight across your awaiting tongue as you opened your mouth wide for him.

“Oh, baby—fuuuuckkk—”

His hips thrusted into his fist with each pump of cum that escaped him, some shooting above your lip and dribbling down your chin. He grunted harshly as he tapped the tip of his cock over your tongue, coating the head in his release that had pooled within your mouth. You quickly closed your lips around him and suckled the tip into your mouth, swallowing all of his seed as you swirled your tongue around his length.

He let out a low groan before he finally reached forward to tug you off of him, collapsing onto the mattress beside you heavily.

You both caught your breath for a few moments, coming back down to Earth after your intense climaxes.

It was Marc who broke the silence first, a deep chuckle coming from his chest.

“If this is what you’re constantly daydreaming about, then fuck—you gotta tell me. I will make every goddamned one come true.”

Your laughter matched his own as he reached over to wrap an arm around you, pulling you towards the warmth of his body comfortingly. Your smile quickly faded as the heat of the moment made way for reality.

“Was this—I mean, this wasn’t just—just a one-time thing... right?”

Marc pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering along your hairline.

“No, baby. Besides—Jake and Steven haven’t even gotten their turns with you.”

His attempt at a joke fell flat.

“That’s not what I mean.”

You said quietly, and Marc sighed, letting his head rest atop yours as he held you close.

“Sorry. I know what you meant, but still, the answer’s no. Kinda hoping this is an all-the-time thing.”

Now, you laughed, and he swore it was his favorite sound in the entire world.

You had a brief conversation with Steven about your mutual feelings, later—although he was a stuttering mess, his smile was wide and eyes were bright with elation when he finally kissed you. He fell asleep holding you close to him, and you listened to his breathing slow as you began to doze off beside him.

Just when you were about to fall asleep, his arms around you squeezed tighter.

“Told you so.”

Jake’s voice taunted jokingly, and you lifted a fist to punch his shoulder at his teasing. He chuckled, and you tilted your head so you could see his face—he looked relaxed, truly at ease, and you practically melted into his touch.

“Yeah, I guess you did.”

You admitted defeat, and Jake gave you a cheeky lopsided grin before he leaned down and gave you a soft, chaste kiss that left you breathless.

You rested your head back against his chest, but he interrupted your peace yet again.

“Can I ask you somethin, nena?”

You nodded.

“You told Marc you imagined being an Avatar. ’m just curious—what kind of things do you think about?”

You felt your face flush with embarrassment, still feeling silly and insecure about admitting to your daydreaming habits, but Jake gently encouraged you enough until you relented, explaining how you’d always had an infatuation with the deity Nut and liked the poeticism of the pairing of the moon and the stars.

“And you called me estrellita.”

You informed shyly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, but you could hear the way his breath caught in his throat, his muscles tensing just slightly.

“Estrellita?”

He questioned, and you lifted your head to look at him, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Yeah, it—it means ‘little star.’”

You explained, and he shook his head.

“I know that, but I—hmm.”

His lips pursed, and you nudged him, his confusion worrying you.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before staring back up at the ceiling, his expression contemplative

“No, it’s nothing. It’s just—today, when Khonshu came to tell us that you were in trouble, he—he called you that. Little star.”

You bolted upright, the color quickly draining from your face.

“He fucking what?”

Jake shrugged uneasily, but you felt your heart begin to hammer in your chest, recalling the bizarre intrusion Khonshu had made in your fantasy today, interrupting your own train of thought. Was that—actually him?

Little did you know, Khonshu had been eavesdropping on your daily mental escapes for some time, entertained by both your active imagination and the elaborate stories you seemed to conjure up on a whim. As a matter of fact, both he and Nut found great amusement in your investment in the life of the Egyptian deities, and should something happen to the Goddess of the Sky’s current Avatar—she knew exactly where to find her next candidate.

#moon knight smut #moon knight x reader #moon knight #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector smut #jake lockley smut #jake lockley x reader #marvel smut #marvel imagine #moon knight imagine #steven grant imagine #marc spector imagine #jake lockley imagine #moon knight series #projectionistwrites

[crimsonbubble]

My ass is NOT beating the daddy issues allegations, I just know mk11 Johnny would treat you so right, he try to spoil you and anyway possible, he’d treat you like an absolute deity, he’d be oh so caring… whether it’s aftercare or just daily check-ins with you, he’s so experienced too, he would truly give you a perfect relationship… :(

NONNIE IM GONNA SCREAM 😮‍💨😮‍💨

I just know that he wouldn't judge you for your lack of experience :(( Just gently guiding you through things when you need the help. He'll take care of you for as long as you'll let him.

He loves using pet names, I can feel it in my bones. Uses baby, honey, sweetheart, and angel a lot. He loves to praise you bc he loves the reaction you give him. All sweet and pretty-eyed just for him <3 he'll call you a good girl/boy any time you want/deserve it.

#bubbly speaks <3 #ash answers #bubbly writes <3 #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 11 #mk johnny cage #mk11 #johnny cage x y/n #johnny cage x you #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage #mk johnny cage x reader

[qdbs-writes]

May I have a slightly strange request?  Raiden and Fujin's reaction to their crush suddenly saying "God save Johnny Cage" (the reader and Cage are friends and this phrase just escaped by chance and was not even intended for anyone in particular)

nonny, i promise you this is like the least strange thing i've had in my inbox lately

Fujin and Raiden React To Their Crush Saying "God Save Johnny Cage"

It was like any other day in the Sky Temple, or, as normal as the Sky Temple could be. In the last few weeks, you'd been setting up your friendly neighbourhood Shinto deities with some more modern Earthrealm technology, the latest edition being a TV. It was nothing fancy, an old Goodmans 1408 that you had lying around. The real challange was hooking it up to modern channels. After some percussive maintenance, you tune the CRT TV to a talk show featuring Johnny Cage. The storm brothers gathered behind you, enchanted by the flickering screen you had brought to life for them. The interview itself was relatively dull, with Johnny being asked about his latest movie or suspected liasions with other Hollywood actors. It was until the interviewer mentioned one of Johnny's costars, an actor who'd been publicly outed as transgender, and asked if Johnny could ever work with the 'dirty, immoral liar' again. The three of you watch as Johnny begins to shout at the interviewer, screaming that they had no right to say that about his costar. The arguement continues until Johnny punches the interviewer across the jaw, before turning to the camera crew and live audience to speak about the importance of trans rights. But he could only get a few words in before the program cuts off, with a 'We Are Experiencing Technical Difficulties' message. The storm Gods share a look while you nod your head proudly. "God save Johnny Cage." you mutter. You didn't have time to think about the nuances of what you had said in front of the two Gods, but decided that it was more amusing to let them come to their own conclusions.

Fujin

Recently Fujin had been building up the courage to reveal his feelings towards you. He was sure of how he felt but painfully unsure of how to go about it. He had asked his brother, Raiden, who was little help. He had even asked other Earthrealmers, although he did his best to hide your identity as the object of his affections.

Fujin knew one thing, that if he couldn't tell you, then he absolutely couldn't tell any of your friends, what if they stepped in? What if they said something to you that gave you a bad opinion of him? What if someone stole your heart first?

There were far too many ways it could all go terribly wrong. And now he was even more confused. "God save Johnny Cage", what did those words mean? Well he knew what they meant, but why would you say them?

Fujin was a god, did you want him to save Johnny? If that were the case, Johnny didn't seem to be in any danger. If you really cared that much about Johnny, maybe it's time Fujin confessed his feelings for you before it's too late.

When the two of you are alone, Fujin will drop to his knee dramatically, "I vow to protect Johnny Cage for you, because since the day we met, I have loved you, and I will do all in my power to make you happy, even if you love another."

Fujin emotionally braces, expecting rejection, but instead hears your delighted squeals as you wrap your arms around him, saying how you love him too, pressing soft kisses to his cheek.

Raiden

For the last few months, Raiden had been delicately calculating how to best start a relationship with you. Part of that was navigating how you felt about others, and if he had any competition to worry about.

From what he had seen, your relationship with Johnny Cage was platonic at best. But Johnny was also more experienced in courting techniques and had succeeded in gaining many partners over his short, mortal lifetime.

Raiden's heart sinks at the idea that perhaps Cage's charm had reached you through the television, ensnaring you enough to make you say "God save Johnny Cage".

He knew the meaning behind that saying, he wasn't a complete fool. To ask a god to save someone was a verbal decleration of your devotion to someone, your pride in them, how you wish their lives to be long and happy.

Weren't all those things the sum of love? Those were certainly all the things Raiden wished for you. For you to suddenly feel this way towards Cage... The only explaination was the TV, clearly a cursed device that you must be protected from.

Que Raiden launching the TV over the nearest balcony when you aren't looking, if you ask where it went, Raiden will feign ignorance and instead invite you for a walk in the gardens, offering his arm for you to take.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat headcanons #mortal kombat imagines #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #fujin #fujin x reader #raiden #raiden x reader #qdbs writing #queuedbs #johnny cage #this long ass post is brought to you by my adhd medication

[khaire-traveler]

This is so stupid and you probably can't but can you help me find the deity that fits me? I stopped worshipping three bc I just didn't have a bond with them

Hey, Nonny!

I'm certain I've answered a very similar question recently, but for the life of me, I can't seem to find the post. 💀 I'm just going to restate the information I remember giving, since I can't link it. I obviously can't know which deity you'll feel a connection to, but I'll give the best advice I can think of to hopefully offer you a place to start.

The first thing I'd do is make a list of things that genuinely interest you. I'm talking about hobbies, passions, inspirations, interests, topics you study - that kind of thing. After that, make a list of things you feel you need help with or would like to personally work on. Habits you'd like to stop, flaws you'd like to improve on, traits you want to strengthen, goals you want to achieve, current struggles that you're facing - that sort of thing. You can be as detailed or simple as you want; these lists don't have to be super long or fancy.

The next thing I'd do is look into the deities within the pantheon I'm interested in. Search terms like "Greek god of medicine", for example, and you're likely to find at least one result. I would try to keep your search terms broad, however; I wouldn't search up extremely niche topics. If you can't find anything under those search terms, look up a general list of the deities within that pantheon and go through them. Look at any names that seem to stick out to you more than the others. This part of the process would likely take the most time and effort.

After that, I'd make a list of the deities that interest me. Try to look at deities who are involved with the topics you enjoy or could potentially help you with whatever you want to work on. For example, let's say you enjoy writing. You may want to try reaching out to Lord Hermes, who has a domain within language and communication. You could also reach out to one of the Muses, who often aid with creative endeavors. Try finding deities that are related to the topics that you made lists for, and see what you've got.

When the list of deities is made, I'd start reaching out! Reach out to the deities who call to you the most to start. Which names stand out to you? Which deities are the most involved with your interests? Look for deities you think you'd get along well with.

I will say that it's important to remember that bonds take time to form. You're not likely to find a deity you just immediately click with; it tends to take time to form a deep and strong connection. Sometimes we do find a deity who we feel a more immediate bond with or feel called to worship, but that's not always the case, and that's entirely normal. Just like any human relationship, deity relationships develop over time with lots of care, communication, and time spent together.

The last thing I want to mention is that you're also welcome to worship deities just because you think they're cool. You don't need any other reason than that to simply reach out and say hello. Every deity I've met seems to enjoy having a worshipper who truly appreciates them. c:

I hope this is helpful and can offer you some guidance on where you can try to start! At the end of the day, this is just a suggestion, and you absolutely don't have to do things this way if you don't find it helpful. Regardless, I wish you the best of luck on this new journey. Take care, and I'm sure you'll find a deity you feel a connection to soon. Have a good day/night. 🧡

#scheduled post #anon asks #answered asks

[chvoswxtch]

Congratulations on 3k!!! You deserve all of that and more!!! Thank you for all your hard work and excellent writing!!! <3

Can I request a midnights (from the vault) ticket with either Matthew or Frank (up to you because for the life of me I couldn’t decided. I feel it fits Matt better but Frank is my number 1 boy 🥴) with the quote “You, you love it how I move you. You love it how I touch you. My one, when all is said and done. You'll believe God is a woman”

oh nonnie, i know frank is your main guy, but this song is so matty coded

and y'all know i love some good slutty religious imagery

thank you so much for stopping by the tour!!! 🖤

as a reminder, from the vault means it's spicy! (minors dni)

blurb below the cut

god is a woman (matt's version) (from the vault)*

when all is said and done / you’ll believe god is a woman

Matt didn’t think it was humanly possible to feel this way. He was suspended in a delectable juxtaposition of his body feeling so tightly wound up, but also so completely free despite his righteous fists being pinned to the mattress above his head. His pleas for mercy got mistranslated on their journey from his brain to his tongue and ended up becoming repetitive prayers for more.

But you didn’t punish the Devil for his greed.

Instead, you granted him exactly what he asked for.

After all, he’d been such a good boy. Matt never hesitated to drop to his knees to beg for your forgiveness when another late night turned into another early morning with cold, empty sheets. He often sought retribution at the altar between your thighs, confessing his sins with his wicked tongue tracing each letter of his prayer of penance against your clit. He’d stay on his knees and worship you for as long as you could stand it, and then he’d seek communion in your body, and only when you baptized his greedy cock with the pure essence that flooded from your temple did he finally feel forgiven.

But tonight, you weren’t waiting for Matt to attend worship on his own. You were demanding it.

The fucked out look on Matt’s face as you rode his cock and held his strong hands captive, rendering him fully at your mercy, sent a surge of power through your veins. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, the most feared man in the city, was writhing and whimpering beneath you, begging and pleading, and it made you feel like a God. 

Moving your hips in slow, purposeful circles, you elicited the most beautiful hymn from Matt’s lips. He was so close to escaping purgatory, the entrance to the heaven within you dangling in front of him like enticing forbidden fruit. An angelic note of faux sympathy sounded from your lips as you stared down at him.

“You need it, don’t you baby?”

Every single one of Matt’s senses were completely overstimulated, and he was nearly on the verge of tears, he was so desperate. His blank hazel eyes stared up in your direction as if you were the heavens, and his kiss bitten plump lips were parted as he panted, calling out your name over and over like you were the only deity he could remember the name of. He prayed harder to you than he had ever prayed for anything in his entire life. He needed you to grant him permission to the Eden within your walls.

“pleasepleasepleaseplease…”

A deviant grin stretched across your lips watching your Devil fall from grace.

“Let me have it, Matty. Give it all to me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, and you knew he would. Matt was devoutly and irrevocably yours; body and soul. 

And at that moment, his God was a woman, and it was you.

#court's 3k followers celebration #court's 3k friends celebration #the eras tour (court's version) #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock request #matt murdock blurb #matt murdock smut #daredevil #daredevil request #daredevil blurb #daredevil smut

[gojos-thot-patrol]

nanami kento, hope, “is it mine?” 💛💛💛

fun fact Nonnie, this was actually the phrase to activate my domestic fluff sleeper agent, so congratulations on finding that!

Now Presenting...

Starring: soon to be father Nanami Kento

Your heart was racing far faster than you had ever given it permission to. Honestly. When you first invited him over, you expected Nanami to brush you off. Laugh in your face and tell you to get lost. Honestly, you wouldn’t have blamed him. You were the one that left him high and dry, telling him out of nowhere that you had gotten a job in the states and you were going to take it. That you loved him so much, but you worked hard for your career and you knew he couldn’t leave Tokyo. 

He was devastated, but he didn’t try to stop you. He understood you had to do what was going to make you happy, even if that meant leaving him behind. And you really thought you were going to be happy! America may have sucked, but it was the first home you had ever known, and you excelled at your job! Things couldn’t have been better! In theory. While you should have been on top of the world, the bitter taste of losing your lover stuck to your lips. It made it impossible to move on. Still, you were determined to make your new life work.

Then everything changed.

You were lost in your thoughts when Nanami knocked on Satoru’s apartment door, sending you scrambling to open it. You were thankful Gojo agreed to vacate for a bit so you could have this talk. “Coming! I’m coming!” You called, before basically throwing the door open, startling Nanami a bit.

“Hi Nanami!” You smiled, catching your breath.

“Hey Y/n,” He said, eyes full of concern. “You ok?”

“Yea, yea, I’m ok!” You said, moving out of the way of the door and gesturing him inside. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He took one more good look at you before walking inside.

“You called me at 3 am on a plane to Tokyo, after only being in America for 2 months, saying you made a horrific mistake and that you needed me.” That was a week ago. Nanami was away on business when you called him, leading you to crashing in Gojos spare room while Nanami chased his own tail in Africa, praying to whatever deity that would listen that you would be okay until he could get to you.

“Oh, yea..” You muttered, rubbing the back of your neck, “Sorry about that..I was kinda having a moment. Fun fact I called you like, while standing in line to board.” You laughed. And buying your ticket the same day. It was very frantic.

“Y/n, whats going on?” Nanami asked, worry dripping from his soft voice as he took a step to you. He wanted to pull you into his arms, hold you close and assure you it would be okay. But, he wasn’t sure if that was very appropriate anymore. 

“I, um..” You tried to say it, you really did, “Want some coffee?” You smiled nervously.

“Sure?” Nanami more asked than said. You nodded and went to the kitchen while he sat on the couch. You came back with a cup of coffee for him and tea for you. He raised an eyebrow at it.

“When did you start preferring tea?” He asked. 

“Oh, I can’t really have a lot of caffeine anymore.” You muttered, taking a sip, “Health reasons.”

“Is that why you left?” He asked, resting his hand on your knee. You felt the tension start to melt from you at his small touch. You let go of the nervous breath in your chest and nodded, placing your hand on his,

“Yea, kinda.” You nodded, “I uh…I started getting sick, all the time in the morning, which sucked because I was also constantly hungry,” You laughed a bit at the cruelty of that, “I got headaches all the time and I was so like, moody? I guess? And then I started feeling tired a lot and my sense of smell got crazy good-”

“That sounds like..” Nanami started very gently, feeling his body tense with the apprehension. 

“Yea, uh, actually” You muttered before running quickly to the kitchen and running back. Gojo insisted on keeping the picture of the fridge. “Thats because it is.” you handed the photo to Nanami.

Kento stared at the ultrasound in his hand for what felt like impossibly long. Trying to process the reality of the small, fuzzy gray jellybean, swimming in a black sea. It almost looked like an alien, or an alien jellybean, and it was hard to believe something so small had the potential to be so life changing. His heart felt impossibly full as he imagined his life with this little smudge involved. He imagined the small moments, helping them with homework or showing them Mario Kart for the first time. Reading them to sleep and taking them to school, slowly discovering who they were and what kind of person they’d be. It was overwhelming. 

“Kento,” You whispered, wiping a tear from his eye. You were wreaked with the thought that they were tears of despair. Your gentle movement ripped him out his his day dreaming, and away from the ultrasound to look into your eyes. He held your hand to his cheek, and any thought that the tears were negative evaporated from your mind, like a drop of sweat onto a Texas sidewalk in the summer. There wasn’t a hint of sadness in his soft eyes, instead all they held was love and adoration. Hope overflowing out of him in the form of tears. 

“Is it mine?” He asked. It’s not that he doubted you, he just needed to hear it. The two of you had been apart for two months, but that didn’t take him out of the running to be the dad. It had to be him, he knew it was him. He knew his baby when he saw them. You smiled gently and nodded.

“You’re the only person I’ve been with in years Kento, if it’s not yours, its Jesus's,” You laughed. Nanami grappled you in what was possibly the most gentle tackle ever, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he pulled you into his lap. You hugged him back as you giggled, , kissing the side of his head as you melted into his embrace. You hadn’t felt this safe and loved since you left, and you realized america was not worth giving up this. You had no idea what you were thinking, leaving the love of your life for a place that didn’t even have free healthcare. It was almost like you did it for plot reasons, it was crazy!

Nanami pulled away, and almost pulled you into a kiss before stopping himself. He needed to remember, he couldn’t really assume anything in this situation. “Whats the plan, darling?” He asked, looking up at you from the place you sat in his lap.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Well, what are we going to do? We don’t-have to be together to raise a child…” It felt like pulling his fingernails out of the beds to say it, but Kento believed in a womans right to her body and her future first and foremost. Whatever you wanted to happen would happen, without question or push back. Though, the soft spot in his heart hoped he already knew the answers to his questions. Why else would you tell him? Why else would you come back?

“Oh, shut up,” You laughed, shaking your head, “I want to start a life with you Kento, I want to start a family. If you’ll have me that i-” You didn’t have time to fully finish your sentence before Nanami's hands were on the sides of your head pulling you into an impassioned kissed. Honeyed warmth filled your chest and butterflies filled your stomach. You pulled each other impossibly closer, kissing each other like it was the last meaningful thing the two of you would ever do.

“I love you.” Nanami gasped as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you too.” You whispered, placing a soft hand on his cheek. A knock interrupted the moment, startling both you and Nanami out of the bliss of your reunion.

“Can I come in? Is it safe?” Satoru called from the other side of his own door, making you erupt into a fit of giggles. 

“Yea, come on in Satoru!” You called. He ducked into the living room, and broke into a wide grin when he saw you sat side saddle on Kentos lap.

“You two seem close!” Said captain obvious, “So you guys are back together, right?!” You shared a look with Nanami, and then a smile and a nod.

“Yea, I think it’s safe to say that.” Nanami grinned. 

“I think so too.” You confirmed. 

“Yes!” Satoru cheered, raising up his hands in celebration. “Love wins yet again!” Look, he may have thought that love was the worst possible curse for him. That doesn’t mean he couldn't tell when his friends were genuinely happy. The two of you laughed with your friend before turning back to each other. Nanami pressed a loving kiss to your cheek.

“I’m so glad you’re back.” He smiled.

“I am too.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x reader fluff #nanami kneto fluff #domestic nanami #domestic fluff #nanami fluff #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento x you #nobody likes you when you're 23

[deityofhearts]

Can you give me a funny image that I can turn my phone around and show to my friend

Do you want this doodle I made? Is this funny enough anon? I can send other things

#deity dialogue #asks #nonnie #it’s funny to me

[tideswept]

Gosh, that gifted you just reblogged. Anakin/Hayden is so pretty! Can you imagine how many delegates and princesses and Senators fell over themselves when he arrived for missions? The way he looks, I wouldn't be surprised if the people of some remote planet, where they're all naturally a little more attuned to the Force, saw him, shining in the Force, and think he was some sort of deity. Obi-Wan would have the hardest time fighting off his sycophants and worshippers!

NONNIE WAS IT THIS ONE? because oh my god, he's so beautiful.

I can imagine and I just, he's so awkward? he wouldn't realize it for the longest time? if ever? Until SOMEONE (ahem) Obi-Wan pointed it out to him, and then he'd be like lmao no way. nah.

.... no

.... obi-wan no

And Obi-Wan would just be staring at him, eyebrows raised. He's not too jealous because Anakin reacts like someone threw a dead creature at him, with just abject horror, but then he starts thinking about it, and he thinks he likes it; he's young, he likes (hungers for) praise, you know?

Obi-Wan sees the cogs starting to turn and groans. He was already keeping a close eye on Anakin anyway, but now it's not only to make sure no one gets handsy with his padawan, it's to make sure Anakin doesn't encourage any of the more unsavory people who notice him.

(That's all. That's all. He's not jealous, he's merely being a good master.)

#asks #Anonymous #obikin #thank you nonnie

[saintmurd0ck]

Congratulations, rhi!! 🥳

86th st

Prompt: “why are you really here? to mock me? to... make me hate you more?” “no. none of that. i came to be a friend, because it really looks like you need one right now.”

Character: Matt Murdock

Also, I don't mind if a confession or smut is involved somehow 🤣

glass ceiling

join my sleepover | main masterlist

pairing: matt murdock x vigilante!reader

warnings: canon typical injuries, brief mention of religion, angst, tinyyyyy confession

a/n: ok nonnie i couldn't fit the smut in cause matty low-key friendzones you in this prompt butttttt enjoy the mini confession 💗 thank you so much for participating !! (ps this is low-key unedited but hope you enjoy nevertheless)

There’s a coppery tang to the air as you drift  in and out of consciousness, akin to a wave receding upon a shore. Your eyes shutter open, unable to take stock of exactly what you’ve injured, but at least you have a faint idea of where you are, and how you ended up in this position. 

“Ow,” you wince, twisting onto your side, desperately trying to staunch the gash above your eyebrow. The pain in your side has faded to a dull throb, but a quick glance at the blood pooling beneath tells you the cut is anything but superficial. 

It’s a balmy night, but the wind dries the rivulets of sweat on your skin in cold increments. The cement rooftop is even more frigid underneath your spent body, seemingly siphoning your energy with every sawed breath. Anything remaining of your once ironclad resolve ebbs to a bare whisper. 

The constant ringing in your ears blots out your efforts in concentration, rendering your attempts to move, to sit up, utterly futile. You know your neurons stopped firing the second your assailant decided that this was the end, except the asshole didn’t even have the decency to finish the job. To make sure you wouldn’t come after him.

It was your luck he was cocky enough to leave you up here. 

You wiggle your toes, but even that action makes every muscle and bone in your body scream for help. The cracks in your defense widen to a chasm, and so you resort to basics. To your default programming.  

“Please,” you grit, jerking your chin up to the light-polluted sky, “make it quick.” 

You don’t know who you’re aiming your prayer towards, and you’re foolish enough to believe that someone would care enough to listen, to send an aide, but you hope nevertheless that it catches the attention of some benevolent force, deity or not.

The peals of a police siren shatters your  fantasy, making you whip your head to the side. Instead, it speeds off into the distance, carrying with it any last fragments of survival. 

This is it, you think. This is how I go. 

That’s not what happens, though.

As you settle into the ground, your fingers coming away sticky from the laceration in your side, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stick up. A warning, maybe, but you’re too fatigued to tell. Still, it alerts you, causing your arduous eyes to widen.

Your head smacks the concrete listlessly, because all you see is the skyline of the city stabbing into the indigo sky, the lights haloing your vision. Jutting out amongst the landscape are the spires of a church, lackluster compared to the twinkling highrises. Your mouth contorts into a grimace at the irony it presents.

The lack of discovery doesn’t explain why goosebumps continue to prickle your skin, or why you hear the rustle of fabric carried with the wind — the sound too soft to notice to the untrained, unobservant ear. 

There. A glimmer of movement catches your eye, a crimson shadow dancing in and out of your sight. 

Out of the vestiges of darkness, a saviour emerges.

Him.

Matt bounds towards you, closing the distance in four short strides. He falls to his knees beside you, hands scrambling to triage your body. 

His expression goes grim, sweat forming a thin sheen along the exposed part of his face as he speaks. “This isn’t good.”

Your weak chuckle turns into a wet rasp. “Tell me the other guy got off worse, at least.”

Matt pauses for a moment, his tongue flicking out at the corner of his mouth. His voice dips to a murmur. “He’ll never make that mistake again.”

You nod slowly, training your gaze on Matt as he takes off his helmet, setting it down on the concrete before putting pressure on the wound in your side. White hot pain blossoms throughout your nerve endings, exploding behind your eyes, but he ignores any markers of your discomfort. 

Gritting your teeth, you lift one of your arms to push the lock of hair that’s fallen across his forehead. There’s an inexplicable familiarity about the gesture, even though you haven’t seen him in months. Even though your final encounter was precisely that: your last. 

“I thought you said I had to get out of your way, Matt.”

“I know,” he says, his face irresolute.

“Then why are you really here?” Your mouth twists into a scowl as you shrug his hands away, blinking away the tears welling in your eyes. “To mock me, for coming back to Hell’s Kitchen? To… make me hate you more?”

Something between disconcertion and indignation crosses his face. “What? No. None of that.” He wrestles you back down, compressing his hand over the wound again. “I came to be a friend. Because it really looks like you need one right now.”

You hold onto his words, acquiescing his comfort, his company, but all that comes out is an incoherently grumbled response, one that pulses in time with your darkening vision. It’s as if the second he showed up, your body has finally relinquished to the tranquility of rest, knowing that despite your past, Matt is someone to be trusted. 

Agony radiates throughout your body as he hoists you up over his shoulder, your heart fluttering at the gentleness of his touches, the soft cadence of his voice. You barely comprehend what he’s saying, but you cling onto “apartment” and “I’ll look after you”, like a beacon of hope. God-sent, if you consider your prayers answered. 

There’s something else you catch as you’re dragged under. He’s talking to you, soothing you, settling you. It feels like he’s explaining something to you, but whether it’s for him to get it off his chest, or simply to lull  you to sleep is indistinguishable. Yet, your attempt continues to listen. 

“I never wanted you in my way,” he starts, slowly becoming a jumble of noise, “because I was falling in love with you.”

But you’re too tired to contest him. To ask if he’s confessing that because you’re on your deathbed, or if they’re pointless words, said just to appease. 

“I heard when you called,” he finishes. “I always do.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil angst #daredevil fanfic #all aboard the saintmurd0ck express #x reader #rhi writes 💻

[mishwanders]

HEYYYY THEREE, first of all blog on fire like actually I LOVE IT! Second idk if u takin request or not, if u arent ingnore this and srry! If u are, can i request a hispanic reader with anyone in the chain cause uhhh i havent seen at ALL a hispanic reader I HOPE U HAVE A GOOD DAYY OR NIGHTT, U ARE AMAZING DONT U FORGET THAT ❤

Hi nonnie! Thank you! Also, I guess I’m taking requests again now? I haven’t like formally put anything out, but @skyward-shade been sending me some good ideas, and I couldn’t resist writing them 😂

As for this one - yes! I can! I will preface though that I am not Hispanic, but have grown up around Latin culture/family, so I can do my best with what I know!

Characters: The Chain x GN! Hispanic Reader

A/N+Warnings: N/A, safe for everyone. Written by Mishwanders - pls do not repost.

If you speak Spanish (or where I’m from, Spanglish), I feel like the number one person who would love to learn would be Time. He’s a Link, he’s curious about all things, but in my mind, he loves to learn different languages. I feel like he’s can learn more easily orally versus actually trying to read something on paper. So if you ever get the chance - teach him a few words or phrases - if anything heel keep absorbing it until he’s able to hold a full on conversation with you in your language!

If you don’t speak Spanish - that’s okay too! Learning anything about your culture and your family traditions no matter how varied they may be would make any of them happy because it makes them feel closer you.

Do you have a favorite food?! Wild wants to know - he wants to make it for you! He’ll try his best with the ingredients he has in Hyrule, but if he ever gets the chance to meet your family, he’s definitely finding his way for he kitchen to watch whoever is cooking work their magic and learn (he will most likely be leaving with a new pack of spices in his bag if your family is anything like my in-laws and love to share lol). Honestly he will probably always be dragged that direction or to the grill during family gatherings/parties because he loves to cook so much lol.

Speaking of parties - YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME THAT TWILIGHT WOULD NOT BE THE BEST DANCE PARTNER (2nd would be Time, 3rd would be Warriors)! So much that I’m afraid the aunties might attempt to steal him away to keep the party going lol.

I also think Warriors and Sky would be the best ones to have apart of a quinceañera - respectful, could easily follow along with the traditions and would definitely ensure that nothing goes wrong for such a special day! Honestly I can see all of them becoming “the protection chain”, the security - they will be giving the princess Zelda treatment lol.

Did you grow up a bit more superstitious or with ghost stories? I can definitely see them following along if you tell them about it, even if its much different than what they’re used to (like the mal de ojo huevo treatment - someone please do that for Wild, he out of all of them needs that done). As for ghost stories, campfire will be the perfect place to tell them! But be warned, you might have a Link (or a few) in your bed roll - especially if you tell Wind about La Llorona and y’all are camping near a river. Poor guy will need some comfort (an maybe Hyrule too).

Grow up more religious/spiritual? I can definitely see them finding interest in it, no matter the deity/god/goddess/saint/revered figure you bring up - again, they want to know more about you and what you’ve grown up with, plus they have the goddesses, Hylia, Fierce Deity - they would all find it nice to learn about the ones you might have been associated with all of your life too! If you have a rosary or some other religious item you like to carry on your person that might get broken via fight with moblin or wear and tear - can definitely see Four making you a brand new one! He may even get Sky in on it to help him whittle some wooden pieces into it!

Did you grow up with traditional medicine/home remedies (even mixed with modern medicine)? Hyrule is your guy! If there’s something you need (especially if you get sick on the road) he’ll go get it/make it/find a Hylian equivalent of it! However, if you grew up with Vicks (aka Vapour according to my mil) for everything, I would be careful with him and that. I’m afraid the smell alone might knock him out the first time he opens a jar of that.

Have you told them about la chanlca? Time would be the biggest user of that - not against his brothers in arms - no, Ingo would be the victim of la chancla. Hey, that may even be the thing that keeps him away for good.

Music? Have a favorite song or play an instrument? Oooohhh buddy Legend and Time have an arsenal of those and would LOVE to hear you sing/play it! Also, since Time easily learns through listening, I can see him learning your favorite song to play/duet with you (maybe even sing you to sleep with it)!

#writing: the chain #linked universe x reader #linked universe #linked universe headcanons #lu time x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu warriors x reader #lu sky x reader #lu four x reader #lu hyrule x reader #lu wind x reader #lu legend x reader #lu wild x reader

[lokeanwelcomingcommittee]

hi! This is sort of a weird ask, and I get it if you can’t/don’t want to answer, but:

ive been drawn towards Norse polytheism for a while now, but up until recently I just read the eddas and called myself a fan. But a little bit ago something? Clicked? And now I’m having this mini internal battle of wanting to become lokean and also the problem that because of past religious trauma (thank you, Catholic Church!) I am unable to fully believe in the presence/existence of any deity. It’s hard for me to, if I get past that, trust them, as well. And so I ask you this: in your opinion, can I still practice Norse paganism even though a part of myself doesn’t believe? I know that it’s a personal thing, and that it’s really up to me, but do you think it’s still valid, even though I’m still in doubt of the gods’ existence?

I do feel a connection with Loki, and part of me wants to believe. But I don’t know it I can.

-a conflicted anon

Hi Nonny,

The only active mod has been on hiatus for personal reasons, but since you've sent this a couple times now and apparently haven't been able to find other community in the interim, I'll throw out a quick response. Again, I would urge you to find other folks to bounce this stuff off of, both because there are people out there with way more spoons than me atm and because lots of varied perspectives are good. Pagans are, for the most part, very anti-proselytization and would not try to pressure you into a path you weren't sure about, and Norse paganism doesn't have the equivalent of Christian hell in the sense that you don't get eternally punished for believing the wrong thing.

So, on that note, Norse paganism focuses way more on action than belief. I know multiple Heathens who identify as atheistic, and I deeply respect them and their contributions. I see myself as agnostic, personally. I worship regularly, even though the blog is quiet, but I can't know and don't much care if these gods exist outside of human imagination.

For me, it's not about being right about metaphysical things that can never be empirically proven. It's a framework for finding meaning. It's a framework to establish personal ethics for interacting with others and stewarding the planet we live on. It's an outlet to express joy and awe at what life has to offer. It's a way to find like-minded people. Maybe the gods are out there, maybe they're just an extension of us, but regardless, all of the above has a real, material impact on the world in the way we live our lives.

If you can believe in that, then that's justification enough to explore it. If it's not for you, you can always stop. I hope you find contentment on your journey, wherever it may lead.

-Mod E