#anubis ennead

[grvwlkr]

i wanna see them beat the shit out of each other

[dellaress]

“Gods can still be lost, can't they?” Your eyes reopen, lids heavy. “Exiled. Disgraced. Forgotten.”

read here ; ao3

— S U M M A R Y ;

Enslavement has seen you branded, cursed. Freedom has seen you reborn, blessed, and soon to be redeemed. Through life & death, through the waking world and dark Duat, and even through holy Heliopolis, you will see your strength, your faith, restored in a new god, will find your divine calling as a devotee, a herald, a protector…

…as simply being his, and something—someone—more.

— H A R B I N G E R ;

Last Edited: March 1st, 2026 Pairing: Anubis (ENNEAD)/F!Reader Status: on-going ✔ Word Count: 100k+ Language: eng Tags: explicit, romance, ascension 𓃣 thank you for reading & have fun ! feedback is always appreciated ♡ 엔네아드 (ENNEAD) © Mojito

PART I: HARBINGER

1. PART I — REST, SWEET CHILD 2. PART II — THE WEIGHT OF LIFE 3. PART III — FAITH LOST, FAITH GAINED 4. PART IV — ETERNAL LIFE, FINITE DEATH 5. PART V — AND STILL, YOU REST 6. PART VI — RIVER OF DUAT, ENDLESS NIGHT 7. PART VII — TEARS OF THE WEDJAT 8. PART VIII — ETERNAL VENGEANCE 9. PART IX — SINS OF BLOODLUST 10. PART X — CURSED, BLESSED 11. PART XI — WINDBLOWN, SANDBITTEN 12. PART XII — FOR HIM, FOR HIM, FOR HIM 13. PART XIII— THE GUARDIAN GOD 14. PART XIV — GOD HUNTER, GOD SEEKER 15. PART XV — LOST SOULS, LOST GUIDE 16. PART XVI — A WORTHY HEART 17. PART XVII — YOUR LOST TRUTH 18. PART XVIII — FORGOTTEN | nsfw [ E ] 19. PART XIX — HIDDEN VILLAGE, HIDDEN ORIGIN 20. PART XX — YOU'RE SAFE 21. PART XXI — CENTURIES AGO, LIFETIMES AGO 22. PART XXII — MAAT & THOTH 23. PART XXIII — ISIS & OSIRIS 24. PART XXIV — NEPHTHYS & SETH 25. PART XXV — LOVE LOST, LOST LOVE 26. PART XXVI — THE NATURAL ORDER 27. PART XXVII — ONLY YOU, ONLY SETH 28. PART XXVIII — SPEAK TO ME | nsfw [ E ] 29. PART XXIX — BONDS OF THE NETJERU 30. PART XXX — BETTER THAN GODS 31. PART XXXI— REAWAKENED AND RETURNED 32. PART XXXII — IS IT NOT US? 33. PART XXXIII — MURALS, MEMORIES, & THE MIND 34. PART XXXIV— TO LIVE FOR, TO DIE FOR | nsfw | Pt.I [ E ] 35. PART XXXV — TO LIVE FOR, TO DIE FOR | nsfw | Pt.II [ E ] 36. PART XXXVI — DEATH

PART II: HEARTLESS

37. PART I — LOST GODS 38. PART II — HEART'S DESIRE, SOUL'S PURPOSE

to be continued...

— I M P O R T A N T ;

I do NOT consent to plagiarism or the use of any generative AI My writing & style is my own, from my mind & heart & soul PSA: not on any other socials/sites; only tumblr & ao3 My writing is 18+ ; minors, please DNI

Take Care ♡ D e l l a ; ' - . `

[tsurumi-kun]

Anubis

[greenapplebling]

"My abusive father fucked me over, not by being abusive, but bc I knew he could be loving too" characters my beloved

Some rantings below:

Yes, Bruce is not that bad, but you can't tell me he doesn't have most of his worst moments with Jason

I haven't fully watched iwtv, but judging by the moments of happiness they shared during the first few years of Claudia's immortal life, I think it's safe to say this is true for her when it comes to Lestat

About Ennead- It's probably bc I'm obsessed with Anubis and I overanalyze him a lot, but I think the fandom should talk more about the abuse he received from Seth during the years (centuries?) before the trial. Like does anyone remember that he committed suicide?? Like do you understand how much he must have suffered to get to that point?? I think him having amnesia later royally screwed him...

I don't think I need to say anything about the other 3, you guys know what's up lol

I wanted to include so many other characters, but most of them have mommy issues instead, so I'll probably make another post

[saga-camus]

[geraldthewatergirl]

most gorgeous man ive seen in my life btw

[corajnx]

Death Awaits

ENNEAD Masterlist

Main Masterlist

GN!Reader & Anubis

Warnings: Inaccurate Description of Ancient Egypt Religion & Lore, Implied Parental Abuse, Death, Inspired by American Gods...

Length: 3,5K+

Chapter: 1/1

After you die, Anubis comes to get you and helps you move forward to your afterlife.

The day had nothing special in particular. You got up before the blazing sun, hours before your father, and began the day as you always did.

You got the straw broom and swept the floor until the dust settled neatly at the corner after cleaning yourself and your bed, took the last of the wheat from storage, ground and mixed it into a dough, shaped it with your hands, and lowered it into a heavy clay pot over the flames to bake.

You did your best not to make any sounds at all, because the walls of your home were thin and your father's temper was even thinner. He was sour on the best of days, and vicious on the bad ones, and if you woke him before sunrise, there would be hell to pay.

The yellowing bruises on your side were a reminder of that.

There was one bottle of heqt left. You took only a few gulps of the sweet beer before setting it aside for him. Then you plucked the last of the quails, cooked them over the fire, and laid out a simple breakfast so your father would have food waiting for him when he got up. The leftover broth you saved in the pot for stew later. You were not hungry enough for more than a few stalks of celery, anyway.

Outside, the birds began their morning songs. So, you took up the water jar, eased the door open, and slipped into the village you had lived in your whole life.

A few others were also already out and about. Women with baskets, men leading animals, children helping out with what little chores they could... Some greeted you with nods, and you returned the gesture as you made your way to the river.

The jar was empty now, but still heavy enough. Full, it would be miserable. Still, there was no helping it; you needed that water.

At the riverbank, you picked your way carefully down the muddy slope, bracing yourself against the reeds as the current rushed past. The water glimmered beneath the newborn sun, too, cold but still beautiful.

You lowered the jar into the river, and the chill bit your fingers at once. Then, with a grunt, you hauled it back up and began the long walk home. The water sloshed in it left and right, making your shoulders burn with its weight, but it had become a familiar companion at this point.

By the time you returned, your father was also awake, crouched on the low stool beside the fire and tearing into the quail with greasy fingers.

"Good morning, father," you said, and set the har down beside the wall.

"Yeah, mornin'," he grunted, but did not bother to look at you.

Honestly, you were grateful for that.

“I’ll be working on Master Metjen’s field today,” you told him. “He’s paying for harvest work. Barley and flax. He said if we do well, he may send some of us south to his friend’s vineyards for grape season.”

That seemed to catch his attention. "Good," he said. "Don't let him swindle you, though."

"Yes, sir." You bowed and already backed towards the door. "I'll be going now, have a good day."

The man didn't say anything, just grunted, and so you left the house.

Master Metjen’s fields stretched beyond the village like a sea of gold, the barley bowing in the breeze with its thickness, the biggest field you knew. Dozens of laborers were already gathered there, too, sleeves rolled, baskets in hand, waiting for instructions.

You hurried to join them.

“Late and I dock your pay,” barked the overseer before you had even reached the line.

“I’m not late,” you replied quickly.

He squinted at the sky, then clicked his tongue. “No. Barely not.”

A few nearby workers snickered, but it didn't really bother you. Ignoring them, you took your place and listened as the man started to give out tasks for the day.

You cut barley until your palms blistered, bundled stalks until your arms ached, and bent so long beneath the sun your spine felt as though it would snap. Yet even that was better than being home. At least here, you got paid for your misery.

At midday, while the others rested in the shade of a tree and drank watered beer from shared jars, you sat alone with your knees pulled to your chest, chewing stale bread and staring at nothing, just thoughtful.

You heard Master Metjen speaking with another man near the wagon sheds as you bent to lift the next basket after your break ended.

“I’ll be going to Thebes this time,” Metjen said.

The other man barked a laugh, probably in disbelief. “Why the hell is that?”

“I wish to request a meeting with the Pharaoh,” Metjen explained. He sounded so proud of himself. “And for that, I’ll be giving half of this year’s harvest as tribute.”

“What!? Really? What do you even want from him?”

The wealthy man only grinned. “You’ll know once I return.”

You lowered your gaze at once before either of them noticed you listening.

Half the harvest.

You could scarcely imagine such wealth that a man could give away enough food to feed dozens and still remain rich.

Well, that was not your concern now, was it? The poor didn't need to judge what the wealthy did with their own.

You took another basket and hoisted it onto your back. There were two more left, and then, you would be done.

Your legs shook beneath the weight, and every step sent pain through your heels and spine, but you told yourself the same thing you had been telling yourself all afternoon: You were almost done, and then, you could go rest.

You were walking toward the donkeys when someone screamed—

“Careful! Shit—!”

You looked up.

Something dark dropped from above.

A clay pot, wasn't it?

You hurled yourself sideways just as it crashed where you had stood, exploding against the ground, a burst of mud and shattered clay flying around. Your basket flew from your hands, and everything in it scattered everywhere, flying in the wind.

You hit the dirt hard, and for a terrible second, all you did was stare, stunned.

Then, you snapped out of it and grabbed the basket.

“That was a close call,” you breathed. You were still a bit shaky, but overall fine.

Master Metjen shouted from across the yard and came storming toward you, robes flaring. "What the hell happened here?!"

You scrambled upright at once, bowing so fast you thought you would fall again and slam your face. “I’m so sorry, sir! I’ll get them quickly!”

You dropped to your knees and began gathering the fallen barley into your arms, hands moving frantically through the dirt and shattered clay without caring if you cut a finger or two.

Around you, more footsteps approached.

Too many footsteps, at that.

The other workers crowded near.

You clenched your jaw.

Really…? Why was everyone making such a fuss? He’ll just get angrier if they all stand around staring!

Then, as you bent to gather another fallen plant, someone stepped into your path.

You looked up, then frowned.

You had never seen this man before. He had long, wavy hair, as black as the night, with eyes to match, as he looked down on you. Was he a traveler, perhaps? Or a part of the caravan?

You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it.

“Y/N,” he said calmly, saying your name. “It is time for us to go. Follow me.”

“What…?” You frowned, still kneeling in the dirt. This did not make sense. “I’m sorry, mister, but I’m in the middle of work right now. If you need help, please ask someone else…”

You were certain you had never met him before. You would have remembered a face like his otherwise.

“No,” he insisted. “You are to come with me, as you have died."

You stared at him. Then snorted softly in disbelief.

“If you wish to rob me, just know I have not even gotten my pay,” you said, rising and trying to brush past him. “I’m poor. I own nothing worth stealing.”

His hand shot out and closed around your wrist.

The touch was cold.

Not cool from shade or wind—

Cold like a days-old carcass.

"I'm no petty thief, Y/N. I am Death. And if you don't believe me..." He lifted his free hand and pointed toward the crowd.

Your stomach twisted, but you still turned—

And only then did you notice the body lying on the ground, just where you had jumped out of the way.

Is that..." you mumbled, and walked towards it. This person... they had the same eyes as you, the same hair, the same bony shoulders, and eyes that looked blankly as blood puddled around their head.

You dropped everything on your arms, your task already forgotten, and crouched down. It was eerie to look at yourself like this. "Is that me..?"

"Yes, it is indeed." The man, no, Death, Anubis, said. His dark eyes rested on your lifeless body with the calm certainty of one who had watched countless souls leave their flesh behind.

"Your Master will do right by your body and bury it as it's proper. Your father will learn what has happened to his child and will grieve you for a while. And after three years, he will find another woman and have a new child. He will honor you by giving your name to them."

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it. It sounded bitter even to your ears. “I suppose he is a better man than he looks, then.”

Then, you leaned closer to your corpse and shut your own eyes tight. You could not bear to keep looking at that empty stare. “Will he be a better father by then?” you asked. “Or will he hit them and hate them, as he did me?”

Anubis didn't say anything for a moment, then said, "He will love that child and cherish them. And whenever his heart recalls you, it will be filled with guilt."

You scoffed, “What good will that do to me now?”

This was unfair, that you grew up like this, but another one, that you wouldn't even meet, will get to experience a father you did not.

A part of you also felt shame for being jealous of a child that was not even born yet.

"None," Anubis agreed. "Now, follow me. I shall bring you to the scales."

He gently, but firmly, held your hand and pulled you away from the scene. The coldness of his touch made you shiver, however.

He led you away from the yard, away from the cries around your corpse, away from the life you had known.

And then...there was a door. It stood alone in the desert. There were no walls, no frames, or structure around it. It just...stood there. A massive slab of carved stone. Had it not opened onto pure emptiness, you might have mistaken it for some abandoned monument.

Anubis took the first step inside, and you, reluctantly, followed behind him.

For one endless moment, it felt like falling, like those dreams where the ground disappears beneath your feet, and your stomach leaped into your throat—

Then your feet struck solid earth again.

You stumbled and looked around.

A desert stretched before you. But not like any desert of the living world. Its sands shimmered like starlight, every grain glittering silver and gold under your naked feet beneath a sky with no sun, no moon, only endless twilight.

There, in the middle, sat a scale. It did not look like anything special, rusty, even.

The God noticed you were staring at it and said, "That is the Scale of Truth."

“It looks like it should be in a scrap heap.”

“It predates your language, your people, and perhaps your Gods’ first temples,” he replied flatly. “It need not impress you.”

Well, that was true, you supposed.

"Sit," Anubis commanded, then, and you did as you were told. The sand beneath you felt warm despite the chill in the air, and you folded your legs awkwardly under your weight.

Then, the man reached towards you.

You flinched away from his hand. "What are you doing?" you asked.

He stopped and met your eyes, "I need to put your heart onto the scale."

"...Will it hurt?"

Anubis shook his head. “No, it will not. Your chest may feel… empty, however.”

You nodded, not at all convinced but still aware of its inevitability, and watched as the God's hand went through your chest, your flesh and bones, and your soul as if your body was a mist.

A strange pressure spread through your ribs as he moved his fingers, deep and hollow, and then—

He withdrew his hand, with your heart in it.

You gasped.

The thing beat frantically in his palm, red and wet and glowing faintly from within. It beat faster as you stared, matching the panic surging through you.

This was your heart..!

“No need to fear,” Anubis said.

Well, that was easier said than done, wasn't it?

He placed the heart gently onto one side of the scale, and the tray sank immediately under its weight.

And somehow, you could feel it. The way his fingers brushed against the flesh, the coldness of the air, the hardness of the scale...It was like feeling your skin and your soul at once.

You shuddered.

It was such a strange sensation.

“Now,” Anubis said, and pulled out a single white feather from thin air. “This is the Feather of Ma’at. I will weigh it against your ib.”

It looked soft, as if the lightest breeze would snatch it away any moment.

“If your heart is lighter, you will be permitted entry into one of the Twelve Realms of Duat. From there, you may begin your journey toward the Field of Reeds.”

You looked up at Anubis, then again. “And if it’s too heavy?”

“Then I will call for Ammit, and he will eat your heart.” The God carefully put the feather in the opposite tray. “This means your soul will be destroyed. You will vanish from existence entirely. Whatever remains of you shall drift in turmoil forever.”

“That… doesn’t sound good.”

"It is not." Anubis agreed. “But you will receive nothing you do not deserve.”

You were fairly certain he meant that to be comforting, but...it was not. It definitely was not.

Moments later, the scale started to wobble up and down, flickering in front of your eyes. Neither side settled nor tipped fully one way or the other, no matter how much time passed, however.

Fear curled in your stomach.

“What does this mean…?” you asked Anubis, fearing the worst.

“Sometimes, if the heart holds words unspoken within it: grief, regret, shame...it may weigh heavier than truth alone would warrant.” The God explained. “Speak them. It may grant your ib relief and allow the scale to settle.”

“Like what? Where do I even start?”

“However you wish to. We have all the time in the world.”

You gave a weak nod to that and then fell quiet. You didn't know how long you just sat there, thinking, for not even the wind made a sound, and nothing in the sky shifted its place.

“I…” Your voice caught. “I didn’t have much belief in any of you. I was angry at you. At all of you. For leaving me with him despite all my prayers.”

You looked down. Was it fear or shame? You couldn't tell. This was the first time you said these feelings out loud. “Are you angry at me for it?”

Anubis hummed softly, but he did not seem offended in the slightest. “Despite being Gods, there are laws even we must obey. Not every prayer can be answered, no matter how great or small. And some are never seen at all.” He simply said. “I understand why that may seem cruel to a human being. But no God worthy of worship would despise their people for pain, resentment, or doubt. Your lives are meant to be difficult. Hardship shapes you. It changes how you see the world, and how you see us.” He met your eyes. “We do not condemn you for being... human.”

You fiddled with your fingers, restless, head suddenly down. You could not keep looking at him.

“What else?” he asked, then.

“I suppose…I could have been kinder to some people. Sometimes I was cruel just for the sake of it because I was in misery. They did nothing wrong. I was just having a bad day, and they got the fire of it.”

“Everyone has such days,” Anubis said. “What matters is that you regret it.”

“Does regret really erase what I did, though?”

“No. But it does honor the wrongs you did not continue to commit.” He said. “And that is something.”

You nodded.

Words came easier after that.

“I stole when I was younger. Small things. Food mostly.” You confessed. “I stopped because I felt guilty, but I never returned anything. Never confessed.”

“A sin committed by many,” Anubis said.

“I lied to a girl I was friends with once. Got her punished for something I did because I was jealous of her.” You said, next, ashamed. “I never apologized to her."

“The immature quarrel of youth.”

“I fought constantly with other children."

“Your heart carried anger then,” Anubis said. “When one grows with rage in their hearts, it takes time to learn how to set it down and continue living.”

“I screamed at my mother once.” You said, then, "before she died. I don't even remember why I was mad. I just remember the bitterness I felt at that time. I think that makes it worse. I wish I hadn't let that control me. That was our last interaction."

Tears welled in your eyes, and you turned your face away, ashamed to cry before a God.

Wasn't that foolish, however? If you couldn't even be vulnerable in front of them, then to whom could you open up?

"And you carried that guilt for years now," Anubis said. "Do you think your mother would have held that against you, if she had been with you still?"

You shook your head.

"No."

“Then why have you punished yourself in her place?”

You had no answer to that.

“I tried,” you said hoarsely. “I know I made mistakes. I know I failed. But I tried. I really did. After every mistake, I tried to do better. To be better."

That's when the scales even out, with your heart being just above the feather.

"And your best," Anubis said, "was enough."

He took your heart from the scale and placed it gently into your hands. It was warm, still beating between your fingers as if your blood was still flowing in your veins, as if you hadn't just died moments ago.

...Or had it been days already? You could not tell.

You stared at it for a moment, then awkwardly pressed it back against your empty chest. It sank through without resisting, and your breath hitched as warmth flooded back into you all at once.

How could you still feel so alive?

“Now,” Anubis said and got up, “it is time to choose a door.”

With that, twelve identical doors opened up in front of you. They all looked the same, with the one that brought you to the afterlife.

You got up as well and got closer to them with Anubis right behind you. They were all pitch black, and no matter how much you tried, you could not tell what was behind them, or where they possibly could lead to.

The unknown tightened around your ribs, making you afraid again.

You looked at him, "How will I know I made the right choice?"

“There is no right choice,” Anubis replied. “Each path may lead to a different realm, but all belong to Duat. Trust your intuition and choose.”

You glanced at the doors again.

Twelve doors meant twelve unknown futures, twelve separate eternities...something you could not take back.

“I’m scared,” you admitted.

“Do not be. Wherever you go, you will find peace. You lived without soiling your ib.”

“Wasn’t much of a life, though, was it?" you couldn't help but mumble.

The God didn't say anything, just stood beside you, looking solemn. He did not rush you to make a choice, however.

“You seem kind,” you said, then. “Would you choose for me?”

Anubis looked surprised at that, then his gaze shifted to the doors, thoughtful. “If that is your wish…" he said, almost reluctant, but still willing to fulfill your wish. "I see no reason not to.”

He held your hand again and led you to the fourth door.

"Thank you," you said, and stepped forward.

[jeusus]

ENNEAD practice doodles with my favs