If you write, participate or genuinely enjoy or get off on roleplaying or writing rape or sexual assault, please do not interact with me or my blogs, or please hide it behind a trigger warning.
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TW/CW: Child abuse, descriptions of child abuse, OOC Khonshu, birb daddy to the rescue!
The night was calm and quiet, which, given the circumstances, was a blessing; given the sometimes-rambunctious child he had under his care.
Well, technically three... given that the "children" all inhabited the same body. There was calm, quiet Marc, the original personality; then the bubbly and sometimes overly-affectionate Steven, and then, finally, the rowdy and mischievous Jake (who was sometimes very overprotective of his "brothers" despite being the youngest personality amongst the three).
All had their own last names, of course, but Khonshu never bothered to use their full names unless they were in trouble. And boy, would they know it when they were in trouble.
But how, pray tell, did an ancient god wind up raising such "children"?
Well, it started one night when Khonshu was "exploring" the void, listening out for voices or feelings out for a presence he may have been able to use one day to carry out his will. Amongst the many voices and energies he picked through, he came across one that stood out the most: a young boy, by the name of Marc Spector.
Marc had a very unsafe home life; Khonshu observed. Stemming from the loss of his younger brother, Marc's mother began relentlessly abusing and tormenting him with the fact that it was "his fault" his baby brother died in that tragic accident. His father was just as bad, never defending Marc from the physical and emotional abuse his mother inflicted upon the poor child.
Khonshu spent a little time studying the dysfunctional family; and that's when he noticed... signs. Marc would enter dissociative fugue states. Every single episode would happen during a particularly bad beating; the other personalities emerged (Steven and Jake) when Wendy Specter would be overly abusive with Marc.
Khonshu would feel his skin prickle with an uncomfortable sensation. He himself was forbidden from injuring or killing a human (lest he gain the already ill-favored attention of the other Egyptian gods), so he was essentially powerless to aid the "children", or even offer much protection. They were innocent, helpless; like those he was sworn to protect. Yet he was paralyzed with rules and "regulations" on how to interact with mortals without rousing further scorn from his fellow gods.
So, he decided to... help, in a way. After the abusive episodes and drunken fists of Wendy, Khonshu would steal away in to Marc's bedroom and speak to whichever personality was in control at that time. Or, he would approach the boy during recess at school--which, arguably, didn't help the bullying there, either--it made him look even "more" crazy than the others thought he was before.
But, Khonshu continued to keep the boys company through it all. They were still very young, and developing their own mentalities. Khonshu helped that along, sitting and explaining to him what he was and who he was.
Good of the moon. God of vengeance, of justice. Protector of the innocent, a healer; and many other titles.
As the abuse went on, the "children" would spend more and more time isolated in their room, spending time with Khonshu. It was practically a dream come true for young Steven Grant, whom Khonshu had discovered, to a bit of twisted delight; that he was an Egyptophile. So Steven would pelt Khonshu with question after question regarding history, especially facts that others did not know. This, in turn helped with a few of their studies.
When Marc got a passing grade on his history exam regarding the building of the "wild West", he ran home to show his parent's, hoping for praise. All he was met with was cruel disdain from his mother with awful, pointless critique, and mild, autonomous congratulatory remarks from his father in passing.
Khonshu on the other hand, offered the boys praised on their studying efforts (even though his repository of knowledge is what ultimately aided them. As did his invisible presence in the classroom).
Yes, Khonshu's invisibility aided in many ways; and his presence gave the boys a sense of security. In many circumstances, Khonshu had become the father they'd wanted and craved so badly; despite their own father being there, Khonshu paid far more attention.
He wasn't sure when his dedication went from grooming and nurturing to eventually take on the role of his Fist one day, to becoming a sense of paternal affection--protection towards them.
It wasn't until one night, after a particularly rough beating from Wendy, that Jake had decided to up and run away; stealing packets of crackers and a jar of jam and a thermos of water, he packed some clothes in to their little school pack and ran away, curling up to sleep in a field. And that is where Khonshu had found "them".
Khonshu nearly went into a blind rage from their condition. Wendy had beaten Jake so severely that his eye was swollen shut, his nose was a bloody mess, and his lips were split in multiple places. And on his arms were raw, bloody welts; and most disgustingly, cigarette burns. Khonshu had never been so tempted to merely smite a person and be done with it in... maybe thousands of years.
But in the face of the teary-eyed child... Khonshu faltered. He couldn't leave them with their parents any longer. It was now actively dangerous to their health and lives if he were to do so... And he was a protector of the innocent... So technically he wasn't in the wrong for spiriting the boys away and raising them somewhere safely; somewhere far away from Chicago.
Khonshu settled in New York--though they inhabited a pocket dimension where he reigned supreme, and the spirits of previous Avatars dwelled in the shadows, watching over both the boys and their gods--only coming from his pocket dimension to falsify records to appear as their father. He explained their mental statuses, and what to expect from each boy's dietary preferences (namely Steven's) and other details he would need to provide at the school he enrolled them in.
Always appearing in a crisp white suit, he would "walk" the boys to school and drop them off, returning at the exact time on the dot to bring them "home" once again.
The unique thing about "home" that the boys had become accustomed to, was that, while there... they could split into their own bodies. Khonshu's realm did not apply itself to the laws of the mortal world, and thus, it allowed for some... wiggle room, as the boys would say.
Like right now. Khonshu could manipulate his realm in any manner of different ways; a particular favorite of the boys was a wide expanse of a grassy field, full of flowers and insects. (One of which Jake dared Marc to eat, much to Steven's horror. But because they technically weren't real, it had no effect or flavor on them.)
The stars were out, twinkling brightly as the moon hung, thinned and low; bathing them in a cool, golden light as they all sat together, pointing out the constellations.
"...and that's the Big Dipper!" Marc stated proudly, puffing out his chest.
"No, it isn't!" Steven huffed, scowling at Marc. "Its Ursa Minor."
"I thought it was that Orion one." Jake shrugged.
"Yes it is!" Marc snapped at Steven, his own face scratching up in a scowl.
"No, it's not!" Steven remarked.
"Is, too!"
"Is not!"
"Uh-huh!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Boys..." Khonshu sighed, looking down at them.
"...sorry." All of them replied on a tiny peep.
Khonshu rubbed Marc's head gently, and though he couldn't show it with his appearance, Khonshu smiled at them spiritually. "Though, Steven is correct. That is, indeed, Ursa Minor, alternatively known as the Little Dipper."
"Told you." Steven grinned, playfully bumping his shoulder to Marc's.
"Whatever." Marc huffed under his breath.
"Now, Jake... I want you to point out the constellation Cygnus. Where is it?" Khonshu said, tipping his head to the side at the youngest alter.
Jake stands up, and looks right at the sky. Former, deceased Avatars stood at the far edges of the field, providing security to nonexistent threats to their young "siblings" as well as Khonshu; their loyalty never faltering, even in death.
The boy spins in a semi-circle, taking in all the twinkling lights above him in the magical sky; until he stopped and pointed at one. Indeed, it was the constellation Khonshu had mentioned.
"Very good," He praised with a satisfied nod of his head. Jake beamed with pride, grinning from ear to ear and adjusting his flat cap before sitting down next to Steven and Marc once more.
"Now, then..." Khonshu began, "I want to explain what the Aurora Borealis is."
The boys all tucked in, and Khonshu extended his long, lithe arm to pull all three of them close.
It wasn't a perfect life, but it was a life that these three boys could grow up safely in.
And Khonshu, at least, could be proud of that. Damn what the Ennead has to say.
the thing about living with mental illness for decades is that occasionally your brain will be like hey you're useless and should kill yourself and your only real reaction is cmon man right now im in the middle of something
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It was around half past one in the morning, and Marc Spector was irritable. He wasn't dressed for the chill of New York's mid-winter and he was complaining about it.
"It's fucking freezing Matt."
"Would you stop calling me that? I wear the mask for a reason." Matt snapped. He was dressed in his old costume, black mask, and rather civilian clothes, in Marc's opinion. The red armored suit was being repaired after an intense gun fight.
"Right. But what are we doing outside?"
"You can leave. You're the one who wanted to come."
Marc crossed his arms. "I can't in good conscience let you do this on your own without your suit. You're at risk."
"You do realize this is how I started off, right? Before I became the Devil of Hell's Kitchen."
"Yeah, and you got the shit beat out of you constantly."
Matt scowled behind the mask. "I don't think that's any of your business. You weren't here."
Marc felt a stir deep in his chest. He didn't like that he wasn’t there for Matt, even if they hadn't met back then. Something has changed between them, a feeling Marc hadn't felt since he'd first met Layla. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with these feelings or how to express them. And of course, Matt's Catholic, right? He wouldn't go for men anyway. Marc wished he had someone to talk to about it.
"I know I wasn't. But that doesn't mean—"
Matt tilted his head toward the alley they were standing above. "Shut up."
"Murdock—"
"I said shut it!" Matt hissed. "Trying to listen."
"You could be nice—"
Matt shoved Marc hard against the wall of the stairwell down into the building, clamping a gloved hand over Marc's mouth. "Zip it, Spector."
Marc was certain, super senses or not, Matt could hear his racing heart.
Matt started to turn, to focus on the alley again. Marc grabbed Matt's face with both his hands and yanked Matt into a kiss.
It was hardly a nice kiss. Marc had used too much force, causing their teeth to clack against each other and putting Matt at an odd angle.
Marc pulled away first, certain he'd crossed a line. But he wasn’t cold anymore, that's for sure. His body felt like it was on fire.
"Matt, I—"
"Shut up Marc."
Marc nodded, avoiding looking at Matt. Matt gently cupped Marc's cheek with one hand, slipping the other around the back of Marc's neck. Matt pressed his lips against Marc's in a much softer, more passionate kiss. Matt slid his body right up against Marc's. Matt could feel Marc's racing heart reverberating through his chest and reveled in the proximity.
Marc's hands found their way to Matt's hips, holding him lightly.
"Matt..." Marc whispered, pulling away first.
"Marc," Matt murmured against Marc's mouth.
"Do you..." Not for the first time Marc didn't know what to say to Matt.
"Do I what Marc?"
"What does this mean? For us," Marc gestured between them as best he could. Matt was still awfully close.
"What do you want it to mean?"
"Boyfriends," Marc replied instantly.
Matt laughed a little. "I'd like that."
"I wasn't sure. You know you... You're Catholic and all..."
"That doesn't change how I feel about you, Marc Spector."
"I..." Marc swallowed hard. "It's been a long time since I've felt this... connected to someone. It means a lot to me. I don't want to lose that."
Matt smiled. "You won’t. Foggy wouldn't let me. He thinks you're way too cool for me."
"You told Foggy how you feel?"
"Of course I did. He's my best friend."
"That... yeah, that makes sense." Marc nodded, more to give himself something to do than anything else. Matt was practically confessing his love and Marc had never experienced that before. Layla was different. Things between them just seemed to make sense, to fit into place without any effort. That was probably part of the problem within their relationship, but that was a problem for Marc at a different time.
"He likes you you know."
"I didn't know. Not exactly anyway."
"Well he likes that you watch baseball and are willing to indulge him with it. He likes that you take my blindness into account. He likes that you can protect me." Matt smiled. "He likes lots of things about you."
Marc tugged on Matt's hips, bringing him closer. "I like Foggy. It's nice to have a friend."
"You have more than one."
"I know. But...there's something different about Foggy Nelson."
Matt laughed, "that there is." Matt rested his head against Marc's collar bone. The position should be uncomfortable, seeing as Matt is taller than Marc and has to lean down to make it work, but Matt is perfectly content.
Marc felt pretty damn content himself. He knew Matt was interested in him, he was safe, he was warm. Their stakeout was forgotten in favor of feelings. Marc couldn't bring himself to care. The chill of the night was entirely forgotten with Matt's warm body pressed against his own.
I bet Matt and Marc would practice sparring together. Matt trusts Marc enough to bring him to Fogwell's gym, like he did with Elektra, only they actually spar and teach each other different moves.
Foggy sometimes watches and makes calls like a sports announcer, usually incorrect. Matt usually corrects Foggy while Marc tries to ignore it. Steven finds it endearing even if he’s not a huge fan of fighting.
Jake will spar with Matt occasionally, but prefers to join Foggy in heckling Matt.
Maybe the Moon Boys bring Layla around, she stayed friends with Marc and Steven, and eventually Jake, but couldn't remain their wife or girlfriend because of all the lies Marc told. But she's genuinely happy for MoonDevil, and enjoys sparring with Matt.
“So,” Khonshu cackles as the car drives Marc back.
Marc has the sinking feeling that he’s not going to like whatever his god has to say next. It settles over him like a familiar blanket which itches in certain places.
“Daredevil huh,” Khonshu continues.
He’s gotten into the habit of using slang lately, something about modernizing. Marc wishes he’d paid more attention.
“Yes,” Marc says. “He operates in Hell’s Kitchen mostly. It’s rare for him to come so far out of the area.”
Khonshu hums contemplatively and Marc knows he’s not going to like whatever his god wants him to do.
“I approve,” Khonshu says eventually and Marc stares.
“What?”
“I approve,” Khonshu repeats patiently.
He’s enjoying this, his beak clacking together in laughter.
“He won’t distract you,” Khonshu continues, “and I like him.”
“What?” Marc repeats, shocked.
The rest of his alters seem to be laughing at him too and he has the feeling he’s missing something. Shaking his head, he leans back in the seat and tunes them all out.
Give us the MoonDevil headcannons please I need them all!!
I'm so freaking Moondevil pulled, it's not funnym I think about them so much, so this will probably be a longer post than usual.
(Also, for simplicity, I'll be using Moon Knight as a general term for the entirety of Jake, Marc, and Steven.)
😈🌙MoonDevil HCs! 🌙😈
They first met (outside of being vigilantes) when Moon Knight got arrest for killing a guy (who was actually a disguised entity) at a bar.
Matt believed Marc's innocence, even though Foggy protested.
Steven was the first to fall in love with Matt. Marc was next l, and finally, Jake. (In the order of least to most trust issues, lol.)
The only time Moon Knight settles down is when Matt is cooking. This is because they are motivated by food like a dog. (/hj)
Matt is good at patching up wounds, which is how the two originally bonded despite their differences.
Speaking of, Matt found out Moon Knight's identity after finding them at the crime scene of the bar.
Matt attempted several times to get to know Moon Knight better, but Marc and Jake refused. Steven eventually set up a coffee date where they could chat, much to the others displeasure.
Matt took Moon Knight to church once, which ended up with Konshu complaining the whole time. They never went together again.
Steven is the most romantic of the three, and is very affectionate to Matt.
Marc is a bit rougher around the edges and not the biggest fan of PDA. Despite that, he can be a sweetheart when he wants.
Jake is very defensive of Matt but would never say that he loves him.
Matt is able to tell when the person who's fronting changes out, based on breathing, heartbeat, and mannerisms. He can pinpoint which individual is currently in control of the body.
Matt actually doesn't question Moon Knight's belief in Konshu. He would never call them insane or crazy.
Foggy and Karen thought that Moon Knight and Matt were dating far before they actually were. It surely couldn't have been a coincidence if Moon Knight kept showing up in Matt's apartment.
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matt murdock would unmask himself, still with his daredevil suit on, at the highest spot in hell's kitchen and let his face be bathed beneath the moonlight when he misses marc spector
I think it's time for me to actually start trying to persuade people to enjoy my crack ship MoonDevil
Because one of my main things with this ship is;
Marc, Steven, and Jake would all have very very subtle differences with in the body, right? Different resting heart rates, footstep patterns, even different chemical balances based on their personality types. Like Marc is usually ready for a fight, so his natural state would have a little more testosterone than Steven would.
And Matt has hyper senses. He would always be able to tell who is who without having to ask, once he matches their subtle differences with each person. And Matt would *understand* having struggles with who you are and how your past affects you better than the average person. He would fully support all three of the Moon Boys and have different kinds of relationships with each of them. He'd have something softer and more gentle with Steven, who would understand Matt's physical sensitivities and try to accommodate him. Matt and Marc would argue sometimes but ultimately they love each other and find a deep needed solace in each other. Matt and Jake would butt heads frequently but ultimately they care deeply about each other and bond over how much they care about the people they love.
I mean, that's all I have to say for now, but I do want to write something with Matt and the Moon Boys.
Bruce Wayne has a competency kink and gets worked up and hard every time Clark tells him about all the detective work he did for a story or a case. It's basically foreplay and dirty talk.
superbat au where batman is the alien.
he crash lands on krypton, which is politically and environmentally volatile and doesn't take kindly to outsiders or anything deemed other.
bruce, of course, doesn't know this, but the man who discovered his cracked, sparking ship and smuggled him through the city to his family home was eager to explain. the translator built into his cowl can only parse simple sentences. apparently, the lantern database he used to program it doesn't have any records on modern kryptonian. bruce gets by.
kal-el of krypton looks to be about his age. his parents are older, and warier, but they don't rat bruce out, and they never speak cruelly to him. in fact, all of them are intrigued by him, and where he comes from. he manages to discover the secret of krypton's decaying core while skirting around details of earth, speaking with kal-el's parents about thier plans to go behind the council's back to try and fix it. with nothing to do but wait for a lantern to pick up on his distress signal, bruce hunkers down and begins to help.
kal-el is absolutely fascinated by the man he discovered one night after sneaking out of the city. he wears a hard, bulky kind of armour that's nothing at all like the fluid suits the people of the military guild wear. but where people of the military guild have been engineered to fight and die following orders, never thinking beyond that, this batman possesses an intelligence that rivals that of kal's parents. he tells kal that he fights, and he creates new gadgets for himself, and occasionally, when he's not busy, he sketches art.
that's three separate guilds, on krypton. all in one human. kal is simultaneously jealous and absolutely taken by this strange man. he follows the batman everywhere, asking him every question that comes to mind, watching his mouth move, the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips, the shift of his throat as he swallows.
kal-el can't help but draw parallels between batman and the legend of nightwing. he is a shadow that breathes, a protector that is putting his own life on hold to try and save the people of krypton. it's not a stretch, kal insists to himself.
and when he finally plucks up the courage to press his lips to batman's, engaging in the very act that his parents got shunned for, that resulted in the first natural born birth on krypton in centuries, it only feels right to sink into batman's embrace when he reciprocates.
kal-el dreams of a version of himself capable of helping people without the council or his guild in the way. with batman holding him, kissing him, pulling noises from his throat that he's never made before—he thinks it might be possible. he knows he wants to try. and if batman is akin to nightwing, does that make kal flamebird, his eternal lover, born to find him in every new cycle of life?
kal likes the sound of that.
do you think that sometimes clark feels utterly alone in his grieving of lex? do you think that he looks around and sees only people that have only hatred left for lex (chloe, oliver, even lois) and so he has to keep to himself all the pain and love he still has left? do you think he sometimes chokes on it, on the grief he cannot ever voice because he knows he would only be met with confusion and disgust?
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if you’ve been following me for 4+ years i’m certain you could make a chart of every character i’ve gotten attached to and it would tell you more about me than any therapist’s notes ever could. but we don’t have the time for that. there are other things at hand. do not even worry about it. next exhibit. we’re moving along. we’re walking
Okay, hear me out. Kryptonian vocal cords being wildly complex and Clark being capable of sounds humans could never dream of making. But also? Clark being capable of sounds that make human brains go brrrr in good and bad ways.
Superman comforting a crying toddler who keeps calling for her Mama by doing funny voices. He settles into a high-pitched helium voice to make the little girl laugh until Batman finally gets the mom on the phone. Now that he knows what her voice sounds like, Superman can imitate it perfectly. The baby in his arms dozes, smiling sweetly as he wipes the leftovers of panicked tears from her chubby cheeks and babbles about anything he can think of in the voice she associates with safety.
The League finding out Hal’s got A Thing about dogs and Superman being a little petty about it. They’re back from a mission that, while successful, pushed everyone to their physical and mental limits. They’re exhausted and Jesus, Hal, could you not be such a tool right now? They’re in the elevator when Superman pretends to cough into his fist. It sounds like a pack of barking dogs and Hal nearly jumps out of his skin. He glares at his colleague, but buttons it up for the night.
Dick not understanding why he’d immediately gravitated to Clark at 9 years old, but reading about something called polyphonic perception as an adult and oh. Clark, do you know what your voice sounds like sometimes? When you’re not focused on hiding it? It’s like a harmony of multiple pitches and tones at once. I was so angry at Bruce and then you hummed that song while you hugged me. Do you remember what it was? Yeah, that song! No no, don’t stop humming, please and thank you.
Bruce being horrified the first time he hears his friend scream in pain. He watches, terrified, as Superman drops out of the sky, covered in Kryptonite dust—but it’s the sound that shakes him to his core. It’s human-like screaming, but there are sounds underneath it, over it, wound into it that make his skin crawl. When they’re in the Cave later, Clark stripped of his contaminated suit and delirious with Kryptonite-induced fever, Bruce runs an analysis on the sounds he’s still making. He learns that Clark’s voice is a mix of sounds, many of which are beyond human hearing but not beyond human perception. The best way to explain it? What humans can’t hear, they can feel.It’s just unfortunate that what Bruce had to feel was vocalization of Kryptonite inhalation.
Jon and Clark having a special connection from day one—and not just because this is Clark’s son, his baby, a living, breathing piece of Krypton and his heart beating outside his chest. It’s because when Jon cries, he’s making sounds Clark’s only ever heard come from his own mouth. Each little coo is a perfect harmony of multiple pitches, and nobody understands it but him. Jon seeks out the sound of his father’s voice the second he’s strong enough to left his head, because his little half-Kryptonian ears are attuned to that unique blend of notes that sound like safe-home-safe-love-safe-same. Jon’s favorite place in the whole world? On his dad’s chest, basking in the vibrations of random words he’s not old enough to understand.
When Jon is almost 2, he meets Kon for the first time. His new favorite place in the world? On his dad’s lap, ear pressed against his chest while a chubby hand lays on his new brother’s neck. He cries if the three of them aren’t in close enough proximity because the sounds and vibrations they make together are music to his little baby ears. You sit, Dada. You sit, Kon. Jon sit here. No move, Dada!