moon knight sideblog with a sprinkling of miscellaneous mcu.(spiderverse sideblog here.) | 18+
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x2 logan my beloved
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Jake Lockley + some flabergasted Steven Grant sketches. (These where some requests i got on my kofi)
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ok final post in a billion years bye bye
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poor guy
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Bad Kitty
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Bold of y’all to assume that I, too, would not also combust on the spot because whenever I make eye contact with anyone I find even remotely attractive I just about melt from how hard I blush. I could gov myself whiplash trying to look away and seem natural lol
What bad pick up line would you use on Steven?
I'd just look him in the eye and he'd combust immediately.
#yes I am a helpless flirt#I do not have a suave bone in my body#I’d be tripping over my words and apologizing incessantly for even being in the presence of that gorgeous and sweet of a man#moon knight#steven grant#headcanons#humor
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Why is this so--UGH
This SASSY ass strut--
So cunty but so HOT??? One ankle crossed over the other, the arm on the wall??
THE FUCKIN SIZE OF THE OLD BASTARD?
Got me all:
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WANDAVISION S01E07 – Breaking The Fourth Wall
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*blows kiss* shana tova, steven and marc and jake
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THIS IS SO GREAT OH MY GOD😂
Absolute perfection! Khonshu really just being a big ol’ softie looking after these people just trying to make a living…I love it lol
Situationship? Working together against the scum of the earth? Sign me UP
And just…god of strippers, but Accidentally™️. Boy I am laughing. Just imagining if anyone else who happens to know him catching wind of this. Jake would piss himself with laughter, I just know it.
Ill Met by Moonlight
Khonshu x Fem!Stripper Moon Knight!Reader
Summary: You are Khonshu's Moon Knight. Although your "normal" job isn't what many expect from a superhero...
Nor does your god realize just what his presence means to your peers.
TW/CW: Reader is a stripper, Exotic dancing, strippers, lap dances etc. All the NSFW stuff that comes with that job, don't ask Khonshu where he gets the money because I don't know. Predator featured, but don't worry he dies :D
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: This came to mind because I've been constantly thinking about the little AU that @drinkingwithkhonshu and I came up with in my little "Moonlight" post. I figured a nice way to wind down from the chaos of hurricane Helene, indulging my brainworm would be fun.
"And that concludes our little Moonlight's song and dance. Pretty as a painting, am I right, fellas?" The DJ said over the stereo system as you walked back behind the curtains.
Your set on stage concluded with a rather decent haul. Although you did have half a mind to kick one patron in the face when he threw literal nickels at you...
You sighed, pulling your mask down long enough to wipe the sweat off your face and adjust your hair beneath your hood.
Then, you reached down and adjusted the pasties covering your nipples--shaped like crescent moons--and re-examined yourself in the mirror.
Surely, not what many would expect the Avatar of an ancient god to wear in place of ceremonial armor, but.... Well. Sometimes video game logic worked in your favor.
Many of the cruel and evil men Khonshu dispatched you after often came to these clubs. You were an "amateur" dancer--meaning you would hop from club to club, working there long enough as a temporary hire to make pay but long enough to build a rapport with your targets before eliminating them for your god.
Your nose scrunched as you adjusted the ties to your g-string, fidgeting slightly to get comfortable in the scrap of clothing once again. You then slipped your fingers beneath the edges of your thigh-high platform shoes and let them loose with a soft snap! to your skin; the latex material hugging your thighs once more.
As you ensured your mask was securely in place, one of your fellow dancers, who went by the stage name "Khandi" (pronounced "Candy") walked up to you, her heels clicking on the glittery floor of he dressing room.
She wore a thin, sequined mini-dress that cut just beneath her bust line and was cut so short you could easily make out the panties she wore beneath.
"Hey, girl." She smiled at you.
You smiled back. You always treated the dancers with respect--male and female--because their line of work was dangerous as well as entertaining to many.
Which is another reason they were your preferred hunting grounds for you to dispense Khonshu's "justice".
"Khandi. What's up?" You asked curiously, leaning into the mirror to apply just a bit more silvery eyeshadow.
"Oh, y'know..." She snickered, leaning her hip against the dressing table, "Just that your usual guy is here. Again. And wants to see you. For another private dance."
Your hand stills and you look at her, "Again?"
Khandi grins and crosses her arms, "Mhmm. God, I wish he'd ask me to dance for him once in a while. Dude has it bad for you."
You rolled your eyes and laughed softly, "Mmm, if you say so."
"If she says so?" Another coworker, Mina grins, the shorter woman bouncing up to you.
"You're the only girl he ever asks a dance from. I swear, is he your boyfriend or something? Didn't picture you as the DILF-lovin' type..."
You sigh, trying not to laugh, "I--hah..."
Shaking your head, you roll your eyes again, "It's.... complicated? I'm not entirely sure how to categorize our.... situation."
You had some affection for him, sure, but--
Mina shoves your shoulder with a snort-laugh, "I knew it!"
Khandi grinned at you once again as you peeked out of the curtain to see a certain tall, bronzed, serious-faced man looking right at you, as if he knew you were going to look out at him.
He gives you a ghost of a smile, and nods his head ever so slightly, the slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes creasing a bit more, the silver in his dark hair and beard almost shimmering beneath the pulsing lights.
He then turns and dips into the private room, waiting for you.
Khandi grins and nips her bottom lip, "Ugh, okay, I don't normally like the older guys who come in here because they're creepy--but god is he hot! He's really rocking the silver fox look."
You roll your eyes and look at her as Mina snorts again, "Well, he's not my type, but he is kinda nice! One of the customers got too grabby with me after I told him I didn't want to dance because i was on a break, and your mysterious stranger over there practically twisted his arm off and walked him out the door!"
You smile beneath your shroud, "Yeah... Sounds like him. He hates it when people take advantage of others. Has a bit of a moral code, that one..."
"Oh, so you do know him more than just the occasional lap dance!" Khandi grinned, waggling her eyebrows.
You shove her playfully and walk past her, "And it's none 'o your business, nosey!"
You could hear the gaggle of giggling fall quiet behind you as the next song pulsed through the air, the base vibrating the floor beneath your feet.
Your hand closed around the knob to the room, and you swiftly closed it. The lights were a very very low shade of purple-red, pulsing in slow waves along the LED strips that lined the couches along the walls.
And perched oh-so casually on one of those chairs, was not the same man who walked into the room a minute prior.
He was no longer the tanned handsome older man who walked in; though he wore the same crisp, white suit.
Khonshu nodded his head to the side, his large bony beak sweeping a bit as he spoke, "Your most recent performance was interesting. Though I have a suspicion that many of those men's wives will not like the glitter you threw over the crowd."
He patted one of his gloved hands to his thigh expectantly at you, and you silently obeyed the request, walking with a slight swagger to your hips before you straddled his lap; your hands coming to rest casually on his chest as you smiled.
"Well, I didn't just name it the Starlight Shower for shits and giggles, old man." You tilted your head, "And besides, if their wives find out they're getting lap dances in some dingy club instead of staying home and loyal that's on them. My work is done. They deserve whatever fate they made themselves."
Khonshu laughed, "Or the occasional embezzler using his partner's money to hire companionship for the evening."
His hands found their way to your hips as you settled yourself more firmly in his lap, the soft fabric of his suit pants wonderfully smooth beneath the cheeks of your ass.
His hands slid over your curves, almost possessively as his beak brushed the side of your face gently, "Speaking of which...."
"Already taken care of." You hummed, rubbing your cheek along the smooth bone of his skull; "I left the fool with his pants around his ankles and his laptop open in the hotel room."
Khonshu hummed his approval--the man he'd sent you after was a predator--for both women and underage girls. You'd been impersonating a child in an online chat room for weeks, using filters to appear much younger than your actual age, slowly manipulating him into agreeing to meet you in a hotel somewhere.
From there, you met him in the hotel, smugly noticing how disappointed he was that you weren't some young girl; his disappointment morphing quickly into rage as he realized you intended to trap him.
He had told you too much, sent too much--confessed too much. He needed to cover his tracks. That's how he thought his night would go...
With him dumping your body in a drainage ditch, hoping to read in the news about some poor "hooker" being murdered by a John.
He didn't expect for you to fight back--let alone summon your crescent darts and fling them into his chest, taking the last to plunge it into his heart.
You staged the crime scene; used a USB to get past his laptop's security, and opened every single incriminating file--and you felt like your soul needed a cleansing at those images afterwards--and left out of the back entrance, letting your darts dissolve into thin air to further stage the crime scene.
It would look as if he was meeting one of the young girls he was grooming--perhaps a parent, guardian or older sibling got there first.... Perhaps they killed him in a rage at how he was abusing their relative.
They wouldn't know it was you he was meeting. Not with how you paid off the security officer to conveniently stage the cameras to be "down", and the clerk at the front counter to forget you were there, and to "forget" to have you sign in....
It went off without a hitch. You uncovered an illegal human trafficking program, and saved many lives. Both women and girls.
A wonderful dispensation of justice, and Khonshu was proud of you for how wonderfully you orchestrated it all.
You leaned back as you feel his large hands smooth over your cheeks, tugging your hips closer to his, "A wonderful job, my little Moonlight. There is another man here I want you to go after. He is the leader of a gang of criminals and they are intending to bomb a business that will not pay them for "protection". He holds many innocents under his thumb."
"I'm guessing he's the douche who likes to play grab-ass with the other girls when they walk by? The guy with the tattoo on his fingers?" You sighed.
"Yes." Khonshu said simply, not surprised that you already sniffed him out.
"All right. I'll try to get him away from his friends and "take care" of him. It'll be a little bit difficult, though. His cronies like to hover."
"You will figure something out." Khonshu hummed, his thumbs plucking the straps to your g-string almost playfully.
When you went to try and stand up, his hands gripped your hips once again and pulled you down; his voice dropping to a low timbre that was on par with the base that thumped through the walls.
"Where are you going, pet? I believe I hired you for a private dance, did I not?"
Unlike your usual methods of operation, you stayed at your current club. You'd grown a little attached to the girls.
Often coming to their defense and fending off clients who got too handsy or rough with them.
Once, a man had grabbed the youngest dancer, Millie by the wrists and yanked her into his lap; grabbing her so tight her delicate wrists bruised.
Khonshu had stepped in first--scooping his arm around Millie's waist and whisking her out of the man's lap--before you grabbed him by his greasy shirt and shoved him towards the door.
"She said no, you fucking pig." You snarled from behind your mask.
"You bitches 're paid to be sluts." He slurred, sneering at you. "Th' fuck she turnin' me down for? I got money!"
"We aren't hookers, you piss stain." You replied, eyes narrowing dangerously as your fists tightened.
"Now leave. Touch any of these girls again, and I will gouge your eyes out with my heels myself. Go home with the friend attached to your wrist--it's obvious the two of you are well-acquainted with each other already. You won't get lucky with a woman around here, anyway."
"You fuckin' bitch!" He barked, face red with rage as he lunged at you.
Despite wearing your clunky, impossibly high platform heels, you were able to deftly drop to the ground, sweeping out your leg and tripping him, making him smash his face on the floor and breaking his nose in the process.
You stamped your foot on his chest as he rolled over to glare up at you, attempting to staunch the flow of blood form his nostrils.
"You should go back to school." You sneer as everyone in the room laughs. "Or maybe take a kick-boxing class. I'm a stripper and I just kicked your ass in heels."
You grabbed him by his disgusting shirt and shoved him towards the bouncer, "Get this piece of shit off my floor."
After that, Khonshu got an even bigger reputation with the dancers in the club. He would sit in a booth, watching from the shadows. All of your coworkers knew Khonshu did not mind if they sat near him--he was a safe space. He would help protect them when they were on break; he would even ensure they hydrated and fed themselves after an exhausting performance.
It had gotten to the point where your manager usually waived any purchases he made--not that he needed or wanted to drink, but he had to keep up appearances--and the dancers began to bring him things.
Takeout, bottles of water... things like that would often accumulate around him where he sat.
Half of your coworkers didn't even find him attractive, but they all agreed he was hot simply for the fact that he was willing to keep them all safe--both the guys and girls--when others would simply say they "had it coming" for being strippers.
Those that did find him attractive were shameless flirts. They knew he apparently only had "eyes" for you, but that didn't mean they didn't want him to know just how attractive his chivalry and good looks were.
Khandi was probably the most shameless, she would plainly lay across his lap and chat his ear off as Khonshu's eyes tracked your every move in the club. She knew what he was doing, but lavished being in the attention of such an attractive customer.
One night, Khonshu had inquired as to what a "DILF" even was, and why Khandi and a few others had apparently likened him to one. You couldn't stop laughing long enough to tell him. You never did, and it annoyed the fuck out of him.
With every little thing left to Khonshu, every whisper of his name on the lips of your coworkers, you noticed his powers gaining in strength.
It took you only a few days to connect the dots--the things they were leaving, the "hopes" your coworkers would utter that he would be there if you couldn't defend them from some jerk in the night, the attention they were giving him...
You had doubled over on the couch next to him, kicking your feet with tears in your eyes as you finally realized what that meant.
He had followers again. Even if they weren't in the practical or traditional sense--
Khonshu had essentially became the god of the strippers.
And the mere idea of the situation had you nearly crying and gasping for air as you laughed and laughed, and laughed...
Until Khonshu had pulled you across his lap and growled rather impatiently,
"Impudent little... I guess you need to be punished now, hm?"
Khandi certainly noticed how you didn't want to sit down for a little while after you came out of that room--and how smudged your meticulously applied mascara was...
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I’m so sorry it took me so long to respond to this but oh my gOD
The flashbacks are killing me😭😭😭we finally get the opportunity to see some of Khonshu’s side!!! And boy howdy he wants to puzzle all this out but something tells me he may not necessarily like the results at first haha
Nothing Is Lost
Khonshu x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: Nothing really!
A/N: This chapter will mostly be some exposition from Khonshu's point of view, and a few flashbacks of his. Also, because sources vary depending on what universe of Marvel Khonshu is from, I took some liberties to do whatever with his familial ties. After all, mortals don't ever truly know all the relationships with their gods, do they? And they have many forms.
Taglist: @drinkingwithkhonshu @astrosphereblog @themostegotisticalgirl124 @patchesofwork @lialiwasneverseen
Chapter 15:
Old Friends
Khonshu gently laid you down in your bed, stripping your wet jacket and shoes off and covering you with your blankets.
Your face was twisted with distress, your voice leaving you in weak groans. The words "please" and "help me" the most consistent he could make out as your face flushed and you began to sweat, the vein in your temple thumping visibly beneath your skin as tears slipped past your lashes and dripped down to your pillow.
What were you dreaming of? It was growing tiresome; you not telling him what he so readily wanted to know. And even more accurately, that Jezebel, one of his more than trusted followers was not telling him the answers.
But... Jezebel knew him very well. Khonshu knew that she knew he had not had such a puzzle presented to him in... Well. Longer than he'd ever care to admit aloud. A simple challenge, as opposed to hunting Ammit and Harrow, and having Jake Lockley taking the both of them out permanently.
A simple puzzle as opposed to the greatest one he's never been able to solve...
He would enjoy unraveling the mystery that surrounded your being so readily.
He was half tempted to get into your head himself; to pull the information out of you and be done with it. But that was no fun, and it was wrong, in this right.
It was different with Marc, Steven, and Jake. Even Yehya and Jezebel; who had let him into his mind willingly.
Learning of Jezebel's memories had filled him with a brief joy he hadn't felt flutter to life within him in thousands of years. It brought a warmth to his weary existence knowing he at least had someone he once knew returned to him; she was one of the only individuals he felt any scrap of true joy or humor in the world with these days. Even if it was miniscule.
"Hmm." He hummed aloud, crouching by your bedside to stare as you twitched and flailed in your sleep, crying out for aid he could not give.
Joy and humor. A puzzle.
If he could, Khonshu would have smiled.
His eyes traced the stars, drawing the shapes that the mortals had transcribed to make sense of the glowing celestial objects.
"Khonshu?"
"Hm?" He hummed boredly, sighing as he sat up on his elbows to look at her.
Hathor snorted with a smirk, her soft round face creasing as she did; briefly running her hands through his feathers, "You are not paying attention."
"Fah. These festivals are always your source of entertainment. You know I prefer the silence of the night. Not all this... mirth." He said, looking down from where they sat, sweeping his arm in a broad swath; invisible to the mortals below as they danced, sang, drank, and played amongst one another in celebration of the first successful harvest and the fact that the Pharaoh's army had crushed would-be invaders towards Egypt, securing their power yet again.
"Hmph!" She huffed indignantly, her ears clapping in distaste at his remark, the sound of her jewelry tinkling as she turned away from him stubbornly. "Khonshu, you are--I swear it--even less unenthusiastic to be around than your father."
"Amun is only as enthused as he is to be around you is because he wishes to sleep with you." Khonshu laughed, "Which I doubt will ever happen."
Hathor swatted at him, knocking his nemes askew and into his lap. "Oh, hush! Now, make your move. I have been waiting an eternity, you doddering bird."
Khonshu laughed again and sat up straight, fixing the position of his headdress and fixing it back into place, his dark feathers puffing up slightly in offense before smoothing it down as he looked at the game board.
It was a simple game--mehen, the mortals called it--the board carved in the shape of a coiling serpent. This particular set was painted to look like Apep (or Apophis as the mortals also named him). Khonshu's pieces were marbles carved of obsidian, whereas Hathor's were ivory-carved lions.
He plainly moved one of the marbles, skipping ahead of two of her lions, making her groan in defeat as she had to reposition them. "You--youuuu--!" She sputtered.
Khonshu huffed a short laugh, "I like to gamble, you know that, Hathor. And you should know I'm very good at it."
"Well one day that streak of yours will fail, you know." She snorted, resting her chin on her knuckles as the other firmly clasped her knee in her palm, her eyes studying the board.
"But that day is not today, my dear." He says, his tone rather chipper as he carefully sipped his wine.
"Honestly, why don't you walk the streets a little? It will do you some good. Distract you from the dreary task of your Fist performing his duties." She sighed, looking down at the mortals below once again.
"I worry about you."
Khonshu rolled his eyes, "Hathor, I am fine. We all have our duties. Mine lies with justice, yours is all of... this." He opened his hand to gesture to the festivities below.
"You forget how closely our divine powers are linked!" Hathor says, looking at him with a sly expression.
"Am I, now?" He mused.
"Yes," Hathor laughed gleefully, moving her lions piece ahead a few steps, getting ever so close to the head of the snake.
After Khonshu grumbled, staring at the board as he tried to sort out where and how to move next--piecing the puzzle of his next move together carefully--he looked at her as she pointed to the sky, right at his moon.
It was thin, a nice glowing crescent of light.
"You forget what that tends to mean. Your powers flow during this night, and of course link with mine. I bring joy, music, ecstasy and children into the world. Your moon, in its current state, helps their livestock and land become fertile... and as well helps their women conceive children. And this continuously brings joy, mirth," She says the word mockingly and with the same tone he had used before, "And fertility. Yes, you help dispense justice. But you also heal and give life, Khonshu. Enjoy it. Don't wrap yourself in a shroud of stars and leave it at that."
Hathor finished off her goblet of wine and grabbed her harp, beginning to pluck the strings in a wonderful melody that soothed him. He recognized the song well, it was one her priestesses played during prayer sessions, typically when mortal women would pray to her for the gift of a child.
"Embrace the mortals you protect... don't just keep them at an arm's length. Yes, you have your Fists... but you also have your arms. It will not kill you to wrap them around them from time to time."
Khonshu fell silent, turning his gaze to the mortals below as Hathor began to sing, a smile on her plump, plush lips.
Perhaps... she was right. He wouldn't say it out loud, of course. He knew she would simply poke holes in his own ego and toy with him with the facts.
Khonshu then rose to his feet, grabbing his staff.
"Hm? Where are you going?" Hathor asked with a smile, continuing to play her harp.
She formed her statement as a question; yet she already knew the answer to it.
"For a stroll." He merely said, disappearing in a blur.
Hathor grinned to herself, plucking her harp as the ushered prayers of women during moments of intimacy as well as the simple gatherings below whispered in her ears on the wind.
Khonshu walked, standing in the shadows as he watched the mortals dance and sing. There was something rather... infectious about the joys the humans were showing.
He had even entertained a toddler as they hobbled up to him, babbling nonsense and trying to hang from his robes even though his parents could not see him for their own eyes. He rubbed the child on his head as his mother kissed his cheek and carried him back over to where a roast bull was being portioned out with bread and wine.
Men and woman alike danced with one another; the instrumentalists and singers flowing like silk to match the nearly nude women who danced with Hathor's name painted on their bodies, gold hanging from them and glimmering in the firelight.
He continued to walk through the streets, peeking in to watch the more reserved and family-centric gatherings many held in their homes; feeling the warmth and life and innocence they were all so blissfully existing in. One home he had surveyed was hosting a celebration as a young mother gave birth to twins--a rare and dangerous occurrence for certain--a very, very welcome and celebrated occasion.
Khonshu had taken a moment of his time to reach out and soothe the pains the woman and her son and daughter felt, touching each of them imperceptibly and watching them relax as her husband cried, holding the three of them in his arms as though they would vanish in an instant.
After that, he trailed the streets some more; feeling the exuberant life slowly give way to the silence of night as he approached a funerary temple. It seemed, he realized, that even on a night of such joy and life... death was still ever-present.
"Bakenkhonsu." He greeted civilly, watching respectfully as his priest was tending to and beginning to embalm the body of a woman with tender care.
"Father." He greeted, his voice strained and heavy with emotion, his head hanging low and his usually bright eyes downcast and sad.
Upon closer inspection, he recognized this particular mortal. Bakenkhonsu had been the one to prepare her youngest child for burial not too long ago. It seemed her grief, in the end, took her away to be with her son once again.
"She passed away early in the morning." He explained. "Her husband was still grieving the loss of their son, but stayed strong. His daughter... oh, her daughter."
He looked up at Khonshu, his eyes full of tears, "Why is it that someone as young as she have to see so much death in such a short time? She blames herself for her little brother's death. And in that regard, feels responsible for her mother's death..."
Khonshu laid his hand on his priest's shoulder, his gaze softening in sympathy.
"Death is never an easy thing, nor can it be fair. But it is important that we understand that it is a fact of life. And in the end, they will all be together again."
"I... I understand. But..." Bakenkhonsu turned, carefully beginning to wrap her body up in soft linen; a red-dyed shroud nearby. Her coffin was beautiful and ornately painted, the gold leaf mask that awaited her surprised him. She was nobility, high status.
She tended the Queen, and the inscriptions on her coffin told how her husband was close with the Pharaoh.
Ah. That explains it. The Pharaoh being so close to her family undoubtedly felt grief in his heart as well, maybe even the others in his house. So out of the kindness in his heart, he likely paid to have the finest burial items to be laid on her body before being placed in the coffin.
"I know," Khonshu said to him softly, his palm resting on the young man's head. "But she was a good woman. Anubis and the others will welcome her with open arms, her son will greet her as soon as she passes into the Field of Reeds. She will never need to fear him drowning in the Nile, again."
This seemed to lighten the burnden on the poor man, his body straightening up. "Benerib made offerings to most of the gods. She would go to every temple as she could often get to and leave prayers and offerings to you all. I think this is what drove her daughter to seek knowledge."
"Her daughter? She is a scholar?" Khonshu asked, stepping away so Bakenkhonsu could resume his task.
"Of a sorts." He chuckled, his tone tainted with bittersweet fondness. "She wishes to learn the ways of the gods, to teach them to other mortals even long after she passes on."
Khonshu chuckles softly in turn. A very ambitious goal, if not an unattainable one. Very few of his brethren--save Hathor and a short bundle of others--got past arm's length with the mortals, "That may not happen."
"But even so, it is a noble goal." Khonshu sighed, looking up towards the night sky through one of the high skylights above. "Even if she does not learn what she wants to... She will still learn and pass on things to her descendants."
"Yes... That is what I told her." Bakenkhonsu smiled, looking up at him once more, his hands pausing in their delicate wrapping of the body of this once sweet and loving woman. "But she just smiled at me, and accepted the challenge. She apparently likes puzzles."
Khonshu chuckled. "Ah, I see. It would seem--"
Their heads both snapped upwards, towards the door of the room as the sounds of sobbing reached their ears, carried on the wind as it whistled into the temple.
Khonshu looked at his priest, and once again the atmosphere changed as he heard words--both accusatory and pleading--carry his name on a soft voice.
"The daughter--"
"Yes." Bakenkhonsu replied quickly, his jaw tensing. "She has been... I--I left her to her grief back in the temple. It was like nothing I said would bring her comfort... Sometimes, we need to be left alone to pour our feelings out."
Khonshu heaven a heavy sigh, his grip tightening on his staff for a moment as he took a pace of a breath to think.
His hand extended and he weaved a spell over the body; so that nothing could ravage her in the time Bakenkhonsu would be away.
"Don your armor, my Fist." He orders gently.
"Yes, Father."
And without hesitation, Bakenkhonsu pressed his fist to his chest and bowed his head. The Moon Disc on his chest glowed, his eyes glowing as white as the stars as linen and fine armor began to enshroud him; the holy armor of Khonshu's Fist now in place of his ceremonial robes.
"What... Will you do, Father?" He asked quietly.
"I will speak to her." Khonshu said, vanishing in a blur as Bakenkhonsu's body lurched slightly before stiffening back up again.
And now, with his patron God controlling his body, Bakenkhonsu receded into blissful complacency as his feet softly dragged through the streets as he marched his way to his temple, away from the sad aura of preparing the bodies of the dead.
He approached his temple, regarding the other priests with cordial nods as the bowed in respect to him as they went about their business.
The temple was well-lit, given how thin the moon was it could not shine into the large stone house of worship to illuminate pathways. But he knew. He always knew the way to his altars.
And as he approached the main chamber, he saw... her.
She was laid at the feet of one of his statues, her face buried in her arms as her body was racked with sobs. The sight touched him, made him feel the waves of guilt and pain flowing from her body as she muttered things meant only for the gods to hear.
And they did reach his ears, at least.
He approached her, gently resting his hand on her shoulder, and began to speak.
"She did all that? On her own?" Yehya gasped softly, setting his cup of tea on his desk.
"Yes." Khonshu replied. "With my guidance, in the beginning. But, she got caught up in the moment and snapped a man's neck."
Yehya frowned thoughtfully, his brows pinching as he linked his fingers together, his elbows resting on the desktop. "And... Jezebel wouldn't tell you anything more about her?"
"About as much as you have, Yehya." Khonshu admonishes with a sigh.
"I'm sorry, father, but..." The god silenced him with a hand in the air.
"I understand, my son. This is a mystery I must--and will--solve myself. I haven't had such a challenge in a long time." He said to him, "I relish the challenge, even if that little whelp is an annoying pest."
Yehya Badr laughed, the corners of his eyes creasing as he looks up at him, "Is she that frustrating?"
"Like a fly that will not stop buzzing in my eye." Khonshu grunted, stamping his staff on the floor, shaking his head.
"You will figure this out. You always tend to." The mortal man replied, adjusting the cuffs on his suit. "From what I have seen from interacting with this woman... She is rather slow to trust. And... Surprisingly ready to throw the first punch. But, given how she has been the victim of so many crimes..."
He shook his head and sighed, his smile faltering, "But it is... good, that she was so responsive to your guidance."
"She complained even more than Marc does." He groused; his voice dripping with irritation.
"Speaking of..." Yehya said, looking up at him. "Has the Ennead called another meeting to discuss what happened with Ammit and Harrow?"
"Yes, however our Avatars were not present for this one." He snorted dismissively, saving his hand. "Though... I do not believe they have replaced them as of yet anyway."
"It's a pity, what happened with Hathor's Avatar. Yatzil was a good woman." Yehya murmured, "From what little I knew of her from our first meeting, she was a kind and gentle soul."
"It is their fault for ignoring Ammit's imminent release," Khonshu reminded him. "Their Avatars did not need to die, yet through their inaction, the gods they worked for signed their death warrants. As well as the souls Ammit devoured prematurely."
"I only wish I had been present. Had I been, maybe Harrow..."
Khonshu walked over to him and placed his hand on his shoulder, "I needed you here, Yehya. There is much evil and injustice here. Marc Spector and the others served me well in other avenues. Your value is here."
He nodded, his lips pressed in a thin line as he thought. What would they all do once Khonshu found out about who you may very well be? Will you remember who killed you? Would that bloody chapter of history and unsolved pain come to a close?
More importantly, how would Khonshu feel about the one person he truly loved with all his being being reborn into somebody entirely new?
What would this mean for the future?
He could only surmise and place bets on hypotheticals with Jezebel; nothing was certain. Yehya was but a man, and he had to admit, the mysteries of reincarnation were still very much alien to him; despite what Jezebel had drip-fed him from what she had experienced. It wasn't something so simple as to be placed in words. Far from it...
"Is she still asleep?" He finally asked after the room fell into a ringing silence.
"Yes. Though she tosses and turns and cries out," Khonshu muttered. "Crying for saving from what, I do not know. She will not tell me what her dreams are, either."
"She will. I know it." Yehya replied resolutely. "I know that one can only keep such things contained inside for so long, before dying to cut the seal and let them all out."
"Indeed."
Khonshu walked towards the window, looking out onto the city streets. "Yehya, I want you to patrol tonight. There is a sickness on the prowl, and I want it cured before any others are harmed by it."
Yehya stood, pressing his fist to his chest and bowing his head. And for a moment, Khonshu could see Bakenkhonsu right then. He could see many of his previous Fists with that gesture of loyalty.
"On your will, Father." He swears solemnly.
"And... when I am indisposed, I want you to keep an eye on that little pest for me. Let me know if something changes about her."
He nodded again, his eyes shifting to an eerie white glow as his body was wrapped in his own variation of Khonshu's divine armor. The god rested his hand on his head, bowing his own: "Be swift, my Fist. Strike them down."
Hunter's Moon left, his cloak fluttering behind him as he went out to fulfill his mission. Khonshu looked out the window and up at the sky.
It was a crescent moon.
Chapter 16: Lmao NGL I might keep pumping these out over the next couple of days.
#this is so good and I am so invested and god these two knuckleheads need to admit they need help😭#nothing is lost#moon knight#khonshu#reader insert#khonshu/reader#fanfiction
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Jake chaining Marc and Steven to the bed because he didn't know they didn't need it anymore.
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Jake chaining them to the bed out of spite because they left him trapped in the sarcophagus.
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I love how Moon Knight is going to go from someone haunted by the narrative to someone HAUNTING the narrative. Like, character development moment !! Go king !! We love to see it !!
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Excuse me what is this size difference between their forearms? I knew he was huge but this visualization is news to me I'll just have to scream into a pillow for 2 hours
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jake lockely, still in the tomb probably:
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#logan with his slutty waist and feral growl 🥰🤗
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According to my friend I spend way too long sexualizing "a 10 foot tall mummy bird"
My response?
"You're right. I don't do it enough."
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