Aug 30, 2024
More of your ennead au when please?
Just designed new y/n look
Hehe
Big woman.
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Singapore
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Israel
More of your ennead au when please?
Just designed new y/n look
Hehe
Big woman.
What Kind of Partner Would They Be? [ENNEAD]
[Ra, Isis, Sekhmet, Hathor, Bastet, Nephthys, Maat]
-RA-
Of course, she's very dominant and leads the relationship. She's the one and only Ra, after all.
She's playful but also intimidating. This means her teasing can be affectionate or unsettling, depending on her mood.
Once you manage to get her attention and love, she'll take initiative and get closer to you.
She's very charismatic but also unpredictable. She likes to keep you on your toes, you know? You look really cute when you're scared!
She rarely shows her true feelings and hides them behind a smirk.
She doesn't really feel the need to rely on anyone because she's powerful enough to do anything she wants. This means she can be really neglectful or ignorant of your feelings, opinions, and needs.
Her heart would be incredibly hard to earn. There's also the fact that she's more pro-polygamy than anything and doesn't really understand or like the idea of "marriage" (or monogamy), but if she sees that it makes you that upset, then she might be willing to go with your flow for the time being (but if she finds someone more interesting, you'll either have to accept that she'll aproach them, too, or get kicked to the curb).
She expresses fondness through laughter and teasing, which sometimes feels very condescending.
She isn't exactly the sentimental type, and her careless attitude would make you feel insignificant often.
She's dangerously perceptive (she's the damn sun, of course, she is), and she knows exactly what you feel, even when you don’t say it.
She'll be very open to your suggestions and will listen to what you have to say, but that definitely does not mean she'll do as you suggest.
She likes to use humor to push at your boundaries and test your reactions.
She's very straightforward, actually, and would say and ask everything as directly as possible. She doesn't care about "hurt feelings" or all those mushy things; she wants the truth, and she wants it now.
A partner who can match her wit will deeply appeal to her.
She's huge! Almost taller than any God! She towers over you and teases you for this difference. Suffice to say, it makes your knees go weak.
She's not clingy and wouldn't want you to be, either. That doesn't mean she doesn't like touching, though: She likes to stand close, touches your chin, plays with your hair, and leans into your space all the time.
She's not the comforting type, but if there is a threat to your well-being, she destroys it.
She can get really angry and will intimidate you into submission during arguments, but won't hold grudges otherwise.
She respects people who stand up to her and challenge her (when appropriate, of course, don't cross the line) and feels disdain for anyone who grovels under her feet. After all, all of you are supposed to be higher beings so what's this behaviour?
Would you really be able to keep her heart, though? That's the real question.
Can you do more Ra/ atum in their first meeting in the beginning when they first exist they were first alone then meet the reader was born out of nowhere ( sorry if this doesn't make sense) maybe a soft smut involved if you're comfortable
YESSSSS OMG OMG OMG YESSS!!!! While I am comfortable with writing smut, I went a bit on the more wholesome and symbolic route.
Sorry for making you wait so long!
In Your Arms
Atum-Ra x Am-Heh!reader
In the beginning, before time knew how to count itself, before stars dared to blink and the cosmos stretched wide into the infinite unknown, there were two.
You drifted through the void endlessly, half asleep, half awake, dreaming up the world that was to come.
You had no form, no true purpose beyond existing in the vast emptiness, longing to devour the yet-unnamed universe.
You were darkness, the end before there was even a beginning, and truly?
You delighted in it.
And then, there was Atum-Ra.
He existed without beginning or end, much like you, but where your touch brought dissolution and hunger, his brought warmth and life.
He drifted alongside you, endlessly weaving strands of glittering lights into the black tapestry you owned, scattering glimmers of something where none had existed before.
Where you were cold, he was heat.
Where you devoured, he created.
And despite the tension that hummed between your opposing selves, you found yourself irresistibly drawn to him.
At first, Atum-Ra ignored you.
He basked in his own glow, spinning galaxies from his fingertips, humming melodies of creation into the silent abyss.
You watched, lurking in the spaces between his rays, an eternal shadow to his blinding light. And yet, despite his constant movement, his endless creation, he knew you were there.
“You watch me, Am-heh,” Atum-Ra’s voice echoed through the void, at some point of the yet indescribable time. “Why do you linger in my light?”
You floated closer, your formless darkness shifting, curling.
“I hunger,” you answered, growling. “Because I am the end, and you are the beginning. We are fated to dance, are we not?”
Atum-Ra’s laughter was like the birth of stars, bright and effervescent.
“Fated? Or are you simply too stubborn to drift alone?” He moved, blazing with power that would blind lesser beings—if there were any others to behold him.
You should have been annoyed, insulted even, but instead, you were… intrigued.
“I could consume you,” you mused, extending a wispy tendril of void towards him.
It was intriguing. To watch the dark edge of your being swallow his light but never truly dim it.
“Erase you before time even learns to speak your name.” You threatened half-heartedly, grabbing his chin roughly.
“And I could burn you,” Atum-Ra countered, his skin—if you would even call it such—scorching through your dark grip. “Dissolve you into nothing but whispers on the edge of eternity.”
For a long moment, you stared at one another, your forms entwining—destruction and creation, end and beginning, devourer and life-giver.
And then, without warning, he smiled.
It was an infuriating thing, that smile.
Infuriating because it softened the harsh brilliance of their existence, because it made something inside you coil in ways you didn’t fully understand.
“Come closer, Am-heh,” Atum-Ra murmured, his voice gentle. “Or are you afraid of my touch?”
You didn’t hesitate.
Fear was not something you knew, not truly, and not yet.
You pressed closer, darkness wrapping around him, clinging to the edges of his form.
And for the first time, you felt true hunger.
That ardent wish to devour. To consume. To snuff out that warmth and light, and deflect yourself with its honeyed taste on your tongue.
“Strange,” You nipped at his ear. “You should resist me.”
Atum-Ra exhaled quickly, his light clinging to your hungry lips.
“Maybe I don’t want to,” He admitted, his fingers tracing patterns in the void of your being. “Maybe there’s comfort in knowing the end is near, even for me.”
You stilled at his words.
Oh, how tempting it was.
You needed to utterly ruin him.
“You are reckless,” you murmured, your voice colder now, quieter than the devouring dark you’d always been. “And rather idiotic.”
“And you,” Atum-Ra whispered, resting his forehead against yours, “are not as callous as you pretend to be. Do you care, Am-heh?”
“I could kill you.”
“You won’t.”
“Won’t I?”
You watched Atum-Ra with an intensity that burned inside you, dark and consuming.
The way he moved through the void with effortless grace, weaving existence from nothingness, his self spilling into the vast abyss—your abyss.
At first, you had only observed him with curiosity, intrigued by his persistence, his light pressing into the edges of your darkness.
But as time stretched on—if time could even be measured in this place—you began to feel something new, something you could not yet name. It curled deep inside you, a slow, simmering thing, twisting and turning until it tightened into something sharp.
Hatred.
It was subtle at first, a whisper at the edges of your formless being.
Atum-Ra, with their—for now he assumed different, beautiful forms—radiant laughter and their endless creating, their maddening ability to exist so loudly.
They filled your void with light, with life, with things.
Where once there was emptiness, simplicity, and quiet hunger, now there was brilliance, beauty—distraction. You despised it.
And yet… you didn’t.
For every moment their presence grated on you, there were others—moments when their warmth seeped too deeply, when their hands brushed against the void that was you, and you felt something stir within yourself that was neither hunger nor destruction.
Affection? No, surely not.
“You stare, Am-heh,” Atum-Ra’s voice broke through your thoughts, their gaze half-lidded, amused as they drifted closer, golden and fluid. “Do I fascinate you so?”
You recoiled, the edges of your form curling inward defensively.
“I despise you,” you whispered, voice thick with venom, though it lacked the weight you wished it had.
Atum-Ra only smiled.
That smile—the one that chipped away at the carefully constructed edges of your being, the one that infuriated you more than anything in creation. It was soft, too knowing, too fond.
“I don’t believe you,” they said, their fingers tracing idly through the formless edge of your darkness.
Where their light met you, it didn’t burn as it should.
Instead, it lingered, warm and persistent.
“If you truly despised me, you wouldn’t let me touch you so freely.”
You tensed, the void around you stirring like a restless tide, shadows flickering and twisting in protest.
“I allow it because you are insufferable,” you hissed, your voice a low rumble. “Because no matter how much I push, you refuse to leave.”
Atum-Ra chuckled. “I could leave,” they mused, tilting their head. “Would you truly want that?”
Something coiled in your gut.
You had spent eons existing in solitude, content to drift in the endless void, devouring whatever dared to take form in your presence.
But now?
Now there was them.
And their absence, you realized with a sinking sensation, would leave an ache you were unwilling to acknowledge.
You hated them for it. For making you feel.
“Your presence is… tolerated,” you said carefully, your voice strained. “For now.”
Atum-Ra grinned, their fingers tracing gentle patterns along the edges of your form.
“I’ll take that as a victory,” they said lightly, but beneath their teasing tone was something more—something softer, something tender.
And that made your hatred burn all the brighter.
Hatred, yes. But there was something else too.
Something you didn’t have a name for, something that felt too much like longing, like need.
Atum-Ra drifted closer, pressing their forehead against yours, their warmth invading the deepest parts of you.
“You can despise me all you want, my shadow,” they whispered, their voice an intimate thing that settled in your chest like an ember. “But I think, deep down, you want me here.”
You said nothing, letting the void swell around you in silent denial. But your silence spoke louder than words.
And Atum-Ra… they only smiled, satisfied.
They never left.
No matter how much you brooded in the corners of the void, they remained, lingering on the edges of your darkness, shining just bright enough to remind you they were still there.
Their presence was an irritation, an infuriating tick at the back of your endless mind.
But at the same time… it fascinated you.
You found yourself watching them more often than you’d like to admit.
The way they wove light into existence with a flick of their hand, drawing shapes and possibilities from the nothingness you had once ruled alone.
It should have disgusted you, this endless creation, this relentless need to fill the void.
And yet, it didn’t.
It intrigued you.
“You seem captivated,” Atum-Ra teased one day, their voice golden and rich, curling around you like silk.
They hovered nearby, their glow dimmed just enough to let your darkness reach toward them, close but not quite touching.
“I thought you despised me.”
“I do,” you replied too quickly, your voice lacking its usual venom.
Your darkness swirled around you, restless, but it no longer recoiled from their presence as it once had.
“I simply don’t understand you. You create things with such… abandon. What if they are not worthy? What if they falter, fail?”
Atum-Ra smiled softly, their gaze filled with something ancient and knowing. “And what if they thrive?”
You had no answer to that.
It started small. Atum-Ra would reach out, brushing their fingers through the edges of your darkness as if testing the waters. You let them, begrudgingly, and in return, you found yourself drifting closer to their warmth, your void curling around their light like a shadow learning to dance.
Then came their offerings.
Golden orbs of light, tiny suns they crafted and left in your path, each one pulsing with warmth, life, and the faintest echo of their laughter.
At first, you devoured them out of spite, swallowing the light whole just to watch it vanish into your emptiness.
But then, slowly, you started to keep them.
“You’re hoarding them,” Atum-Ra remarked another moment in time, watching you with quiet amusement as you let one of their suns orbit you lazily.
“I am observing them,” you corrected, though even you could not deny the strange sense of satisfaction their presence gave you.
And so it went. Atum-Ra, in their endless persistence, continued their courtship—offering light, warmth, and the kind of devotion that felt both overwhelming and intoxicating.
And you, despite yourself, began to respond.
You started creating, in your own way.
Not suns, not warmth, but structure. Where Atum-Ra scattered brilliance, you shaped it.
You gathered their light and molded it into stars, crafting constellations that hung like silent jewels across the void.
Atum-Ra watched with unhidden delight, their hands reaching to steady yours, their laughter echoing through the cosmos as you worked together—creating balance where before there had been only chaos.
And then, without even meaning to, you both created something… more.
It happened once, when Atum-Ra pressed into you.
Hard.
Light twined with darkness, and all of a sudden, something dragged you towards them.
“What did you do?” You demanded quietly.
“Nothing.” Atum-Ra grinned, pressing their lips to the shell of your ear. “Would you like me to have done something?”
Their hand slid into yours, spreading your fingers and lacing them together.
And they did it again, not awaiting any plea, for they knew how you despised to do so.
A coil of something went taut deep within you, suddenly pushing air out of your lungs. You had not been aware you had any lungs to begin with, let alone a breath to lose.
And it felt odd. Good but… strained in a way that had you aching.
You whirled around, heart pumping like mad.
“What?” asked Atum-Ra, suddenly concerned. “Did I do something wrong? Does it-“
“Feel,” you demanded, slamming the palm of their hand to your chest.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Feel!” you demanded again, bringing your lips closer, this odd thing fanning between you.
Atum-Ra paused, barely processing the tingling sensation brushing their cheek. You brought your hand to their lips, yet none of that warm delight escaped them.
You frowned.
“What am I supposed to feel, exactly, my shade?” They asked.
“You stole something of mine. I don’t know how to explain it.”
It came out of your lungs in thin, beautiful whispers. It felt cool, nice and fresh, leaving you aching for more and more and more.
“How does it feel, then?”
Atum-Ra, for the first time since their creation, looked perplexed.
“Good,” you huffed, suddenly able to so.
Atum-Ra’s eyes followed your lips, awestruck.
“That thing. How did you do that?” They murmured, amazed. “Do it again!”
You gave a huff, and Atum-Ra gaped.
“Teach me. Teach me, please?”
“I don’t know how to.”
Yet you mused, shadowy tendrils bringing them closer. This malady… this affliction they’d brought upon you. How could you show them? How could you possibly make them know?
An idea struck you.
Yes, that could work.
You brought them closer, and even closer, before connecting your lips gently and sucking. Atum-Ra jolted as if struck, and their breaths came loose, undone in frantic bouts.
They had barely pulled away, feeling the thrill of the first ever kiss the world had conjured, before slamming their lips to yours.
Again.
And again.
And again, until your lips turned purple and swollen, and your laughter escaping you in giddy, breathless spurts.
Sometime amidst those kisses, your hips found theirs, straddling to keep them closer. Ecstasy and need ripped through you, and you found yourselves unable to tear away.
In that moment, you awkwardly felt around each other, discovering and naming and molding each other’s bodies to fit.
Atum-Ra was perfect. The shape of their lips, the curve of their nose and beautiful eyes. They were so full of life, life you craved so endlessly.
You’d made them for yourself. This beautiful, mesmerizing piece of art. For you to hoard and keep and want.
In turn, Ra molded you for themselves. Painted those pretty eyes, carved those pretty lips and thumbed the shape of your nose. Perfect in their eyes, no matter what.
Your hands slid down, grasping at their hips, claiming, coaxing, commanding—greedy for every new inch of them, of this body newly given shape. Flesh still humming with the echo of your will.
Atum-Ra kissed you again—gentle at first. Unsure. Curious.
Then deeper.
Drawn by the gravity of your breath, by the way you sighed like it was the first wind to ever exist.
Their lips touched your mouth.
Then your cheek.
Then lower—your jaw, your throat.
But they were hesitant. Tasting and tracing. Wary to indulge in these foreign sensations.
You gasped—but not from surprise.
No, you breathed it into being. The sound of it—the intake, the release—was new. The first gasp. The first inhale made not of dust or light, but want.
And it shook the stars.
Your grip tightened, pulling them flush to you.
“Like this,” you whispered, voice thick and slow, as though shaping creation from within your lungs.
You tilted your head and offered—the curve of your neck, the shiver beneath your skin.
They took it.
Kisses turned deeper.
Drawn-out suckles.
A nip that made your skin spark with something entirely new.
And then a second, playful but hungry.
You moaned—low and indulgent.
Atum-Ra faltered. Stilled.
They were feeling.
They were breathing.
Their eyes were wide, shining with awe, caught somewhere between need and revelation.
“What is that?” they whispered. “That…sound you made.”
You smiled, dark and indulgent.
“Desire,” you said, dragging your lips along theirs. “I made it just now. Do you want it?”
They nodded—barely able to speak.
You leaned in, parted your lips, and breathed into them.
Not air—no. This was deeper.
A breath made of starlight and moan, of gravity and lust. Of you.
Their lips trembled.
You kissed them again, slow and claiming, and this time, it was you who took.
You pressed them back, overwhelmed their senses with tongue and heat and sound, crafting pleasure stroke by stroke, molding their body to your rhythm like clay over flame.
They gasped. Choked.
And then… they laughed.
Laughed, and it was light—chaotic and shimmering, and alive.
“I think,” they said breathlessly, “you’ve infected me.”
You grinned against their throat, dragging your teeth along their skin until they squirmed—shoulders twitching, hips hitching toward you, unbidden.
“There,” you murmured, lips brushing the space just below their ear. “You liked that.”
Atum-Ra made a sound—a strangled, breathy thing that lived somewhere between a gasp and a plea.
You licked the spot slowly, tasting the way their skin had just learned to respond, then sucked, harder this time. Their back arched.
“Do it again,” they whispered, voice gone thin with wonder. “Please. Whatever that was.”
You obliged.
You would always oblige when they asked—not begged. You wouldn’t take that from them.
Your mouth traced a new path: under their jaw, across the pulse fluttering against your lips, then lower, lower. You learned them like a map, like a secret meant only for your tongue and your hunger. And as your fingers splayed across their ribs, your other hand gripped behind their thigh, anchoring them.
Their body moved so easily beneath you, like it had been carved to slot into your palms, to answer your hunger with gasps and fevered moans. But they weren’t still. No—Atum-Ra was learning, too.
Their hands slid across your back, bold now. Testing. Exploring. Their fingers dragged down your spine, slow and deliberate, and you gasped this time—a low, guttural sound.
“Oh,” they said, delighted. “There you are.”
You growled against their throat, and they laughed again, more confident now, intoxicated with discovery. “Does the Devourer like to be touched here?” they teased, pressing again, right along the dip of your back.
You bit their collarbone in reply. Not to hurt—just enough to make them jolt, sharp and bright and startled.
And then melt.
Atum-Ra clutched at you, body writhing beneath your weight, mouth parting in a broken moan. “What—what was that—?”
You grinned into their skin. “You feel that in your stomach?” you asked, dragging your fingers over the ridge of their hipbone. “That ache curling tighter? That heat sliding down your spine?”
They nodded breathlessly, unable to speak.
“That’s mine,” you whispered, tongue sweeping over the mark you’d left. “I made that.”
You watched their eyes flutter shut, their lips red and glistening, parted around shallow, shuddering breaths.
But then they surged forward—flipping the moment like a storm.
Their mouth crashed into yours with a new kind of hunger. Not innocent now. Not curious. Greedy. Matching you stroke for stroke, they tasted your bottom lip, then sucked it into their mouth, tongue dragging over it like a promise.
It was your turn to gasp—to gasp—as their hips rolled into yours, slow and deliberate, sending a bolt of pleasure that made your vision go white.
“I can make things too,” they whispered, voice low, almost dark. “You gave me this body… but now I want to learn how to use it.”
And gods—did they.
Their hands were clumsy but eager, sliding over your chest, your sides, and lower—fingertips painting sensation with no blueprint but instinct. They watched you the way an artist watches marble, waiting for it to crack, to yield, to show the shape buried beneath.
And you did yield.
When their mouth found that place just below your ribs—when they kissed it, then bit, just a little—you gasped, and they smiled. Triumphant.
You dragged them back up by the jaw, crushed your mouth to theirs, kissed like you were starving, like you were building fire inside both your chests just to burn it down again.
Bodies slid together, slick with heat, breath tangling like silk ribbons caught on thorns. You rolled your hips into theirs and they into yours—over and over—chasing that spiraling tension, hands everywhere, mouths feverish.
And then—
They did something—ground their thigh just so, fingers curling at the base of your spine—and your breath vanished.
You saw it: white, pure and endless. A flash behind your eyes like lightning that knew your name. You cried out—sharp and guttural, shocked by the power they’d pulled from you.
“There,” they said, voice raw and reverent. “That. That’s what I want. Again.”
You could only pant, wide-eyed. For once, you were the one undone. Your limbs trembled, your chest heaved—and you grinned, teeth sharp with approval.
“Clever little thing,” you murmured. “You’re learning.”
And they did not flinch. Did not back down.
They leaned in, kissed the edge of your mouth like a question and a claim all at once.
“I want to learn everything you ache for,” they whispered. “And then I want to teach you what I burn for.”
And in that tangle of limbs and heat and breath, you began the first act of worship.
Not of gods, but of each other.
Of need.
Of sensation.
Of the divine ache that came with being alive for the very first time.
Atum-Ra kept moving.
Kept pressing closer, closer still—each kiss, each shift of skin against skin not just pleasure but creation. Their limbs tangled with yours, your forms molding together in fits and starts, like clay too warm to hold its shape. You groaned as Atum-Ra slid their hands along your torso, sketching their curiosity into you, fingertips flickering with gold.
Lines of heat spiraled where they touched—light drawn into you, glowing trails that danced over your ribs, your hips, your throat.
“What are you doing?” you whispered, voice hoarse, struck open by want.
“I don’t know,” they breathed. “But it feels… right.”
Their fingers moved with intention now—painting radiant curls and glyphs, the language of some new sensation neither of you had words for yet. And wherever they touched, your skin hummed with light. It didn’t burn—it sang.
Your shadows responded, uncoiling like breath from your spine—slow, living tendrils that slid from your back and shoulders and thighs, curling around Atum-Ra like serpents. Gentle, exploring, wrapping them up in strands of dusk and sighs.
Atum-Ra gasped, hips jerking forward into yours, breath catching in that stunned, delicious way they always had when they felt something new. Your tendrils pulsed around them, tight and soft, shivering against their light.
“Again,” they rasped. “Touch me again like that.”
You did.
Gods, you did.
Your shadows curled under their knees, drew slow patterns against the small of their back, dragged along the backs of their thighs—and Atum-Ra arched, whole body trembling, eyes wide and flooded with starlight.
Their hands gripped your face again—desperate, grounding—lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to your cheeks, your jaw, your mouth, as if to say more with every collision.
And you gave them more.
You moved together like storm and tide, shadow and flare, heat and hunger—unfolding, colliding, reshaping the very space between you. You kissed, and with it came the concept of time. You held each other, and with it came the concept of gravity, crafted only for this very purpose. Another spiral drawn on your chest, and with it came the golden rule.
Another slam of your hips—
It happened.
The cosmos trembled, and from your touch, the world was born.
You stared at it, this fragile, spinning thing suspended between you both, and for once, you felt something unfamiliar stir within you.
Not hunger. Not destruction. Something… close to wonder.
Atum-Ra looked at you, their eyes filled with a quiet reverence as their fingers drew swirls of light on your arm.
“We made this,” they whispered, their fingers still laced with yours. “Together.”
You didn’t pull away. Instead, you allowed your fingers to remain entwined, your darkness curling around their light in something that felt dangerously close to unity.
“It’s imperfect,” you murmured, studying the world, the swirling seas and restless winds. “It will fall apart.”
“Perhaps,” Atum-Ra replied, their lips curling into a smile. “But we’ll build it again. And again. As many times as it takes.”
You exhaled, something inside you easing in a way you didn’t understand. “You’re relentless,” you muttered, but there was no bite to your words.
“And you’re learning to indulge me,” Atum-Ra countered, pressing a soft kiss against the edge of your darkness, their touch warm and unwavering.
"I'll make you say, how proud you are of me"
"So stay awake just long enough to see my way!"
"My way...my way.."
Khonsu is Ra and y/n son.
Khonshu: I don't need anyone! I can be fine on my own!
LATER
Khonshu: I was wrong...I need mom...I need dad...I want thers warm hugs...*ugly crying*
Hi, I've read your fanfic several times! and I want to request something :3 maybe like a Ra x F reader! (They have a Toxic relationship but Ra still love her) 🫶🏻🫶🏻
ANGST TOO
OMG YESSSS!!!
IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS, THANK YOU FOR THE MARVELOUS IDEA!!!!!
————————
Without Your Light
Ra x F!Reader
TW: Toxic relationship, slight angst, mentions of neglect, fluffy ending.
—————— Fifth time this week.
It wasn’t even funny at this point.
Ra had left, going who-knows-where, leaving you alone again.
It was often like this after you two argued.
Ra had a knack for escalating things, especially when you were vulnerable. She’d take the tiniest spark of your frustration and fan it into a wildfire, twisting your words so cleverly it left you questioning whether you were even in the right.
Of course, Ra always made herself look blameless.
This time, Ra had found a way to put words into your mouth again, twisting them so you’d seem like you’d agreed to whatever insane scheme she had to entertain herself.
Usually, it involved some grand display of tormenting mortals, setting their fields ablaze, or sending plagues because she found their desperation amusing. When you would refuse to play along, her mood would turn sour, and she’d resort to her arsenal of manipulations: pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and that mocking, sultry smile that made your blood boil.
This time, you didn’t cave.
You couldn’t.
You’d had enough.
So, as soon as she left, you stormed out yourself, slamming the door so hard the wall nearly cracked.
Ra had a way of making you feel insignificant. Whether through sly jabs disguised as compliments—“You’re doing so well under me, (Y/n)”—or casually dismissing your concerns as “emotional,” she chipped away at your confidence piece by piece.
She’d talk over you in divine councils, her booming voice drowning yours out, then later claim you were “too quiet” to be taken seriously.
You were so sick of it. She was the Almighty, the Goddess of the Sun, endlessly radiant and all-knowing.
And you?
You were (Y/n), the Beautiful, the Goddess of the Moon. Mysterious, yes. Powerful, certainly. But compared to her…
You hated that thought.
Ra had planted it there, insidiously, over the years.
Even her affection had an edge to it. She’d lavish you with attention when it suited her—when she needed your help or your powers. Her honeyed words were irresistible in the moment, but once her goal was achieved, she’d vanish, leaving you feeling used.
The cycle was predictable: flattery, favor, abandonment.
Repeat.
You strode through your grand palazzo of shadows and darkness and all of that edgy stuff that every Egyptian teen wants to worship, and laid down on a stone seat, contemplating.
Ra’d been so busy lately.
Paying attention to literally everything but you.
It was one of those moments again.
You felt shunned by her again.
Had you no worth whatsoever without her light?
She ignored you?
And then what?
Ignored you again?
Only coming to you when she needed something, pleading and singing sweet praises over and over, just to get you to grant her wishes, and then she’d leave you high and dry, unsatisfied.
Perhaps this was all you were worth.
To be forever in her shadow.
No, you’d have none of that today.
You could shine without her. Of course you could! She wasn’t the only celestial body goddess around.
And with all of that power and potential wasted on petty gossip and whatever Ra did whenever she ignored you, you were way better!
And so, in your palazzo you remained.
——————
“My love.” Ra peeked behind the curtain of your shared bed, her tone syrupy and sweet as she prepared for yet another of her playful reconciliations.
Nothing.
Her brow furrowed slightly.
“My looooove~” she sang out again, nudging the bundle of blankets tucked carefully under the covers.
It looked convincingly like you.
But, upon prodding, she realized with growing confusion that the lump of blankets was not, in fact, you.
Ra straightened, her hands on her hips, golden adornments jangling with the motion.
“My love? (Y/n), where are you? Cease these games, please?” Her tone carried an air of amusement, though it was quickly beginning to cool.
The silence that followed prickled at her patience. No witty retort, no soft sigh of exasperation—nothing.
Frowning, she moved through the room with slow, deliberate steps, peering behind curtains and cushions, as though expecting you to leap out and scold her for being so self-absorbed.
“My love?” she called again, the edge of concern creeping into her voice. “(Y/n)? Come out, darling. Are you still angry at me?”
Her words wavered for a moment, but when no response came, her annoyance began to grow. She searched the chamber for more than half an hour, her frustration mounting with each passing second.
“You can’t seriously still be upset,” she muttered to herself, glancing under the stone table as though you might’ve hidden there. “It was just a small argument! You’re so sensitive sometimes.”
The plea in her voice vanished, replaced by an irritated huff.
“Oh, fine! If you wish to sulk, then so be it!” She crossed her arms, stomping towards the window. The sun outside was nearing its zenith, and she had better things to do than chase after your wounded pride.
Ra paused at the doorway, glancing back with a flicker of hesitation. But when you didn’t miraculously appear to soothe her bruised ego, she exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes.
“Two can play at this game, my dear.” she muttered under her breath. And with that, she left, the door shutting behind her with a decisive click, already plotting how she might make you regret daring to hide from her.
——————
Ra wasn’t one to stew in silence for long.
As the hours ticked by and you still hadn’t shown yourself, her concern became a thorn in her side.
Not because she was worried—well, maybe a little—but because she despised being ignored. It was infuriating, maddening, and, worst of all, a blow to her pride.
“Fine,” she huffed from her gilded throne, the rays of her sunlight spilling over the room in rippling waves. “If she wants to hide, then let her. I’ll simply send someone to check on her. If she thinks I’m going to sit here and wait, she’s sorely mistaken.”
Ra summoned her court, calling forth a few favored emissaries, mortals and minor deities alike.
“Go to her palazzo,” she commanded, her tone carrying the weight of the sun itself. “Ensure that my beloved moon is safe and well. Tell her to return to me—or at least send word.”
The first to arrive at your shadowed palace was a minor sun deity, glowing faintly as they stepped hesitantly across your threshold. They cleared their throat nervously, their golden aura flickering under the oppressive darkness of your domain.
“My Lady of the Moon,” they called, their voice trembling. “Ra sends her love and asks—”
“Out,” you said coldly, not even bothering to turn from your place on the stone seat.
Your voice echoed through the empty halls, sharper than a blade. The emissary froze, their words dying on their lips.
“My Lady, if I could just—”
“I said, out,” you snapped, the weight of your power pressing down on the room. Shadows crept along the walls, twisting and flickering ominously. The emissary didn’t need to be told twice. They fled, leaving behind a trail of golden light that fizzled into nothingness as soon as they crossed the threshold.
Ra sent another, this one bolder—a mortal priestess, clad in fine silks and adorned with sunstone jewelry. She arrived bearing gifts and sweet words, bowing deeply as she stepped into the palazzo.
“Gracious Lady (Y/n), Ra wishes only to mend what is broken. She—”
“Take your gifts and leave,” you interrupted, your tone icy. “Tell your goddess that her meddling is unwelcome.”
The priestess faltered, glancing nervously at the shadows pooling at her feet.
“And do not return,” you added, your voice dropping to a whisper that somehow carried the weight of a storm. The priestess fled without another word, clutching the gifts to her chest as though they might protect her.
For days, Ra continued her efforts, sending emissary after emissary, each one met with the same cold reception. Some left in tears; others swore never to step foot in your palace again. Still, you remained resolute, your defiance growing with each passing moment. You would not bow to her whims—not this time.
Eventually, Ra could take no more. She was not used to being defied, let alone by someone she adored. If you would not come to her, and her emissaries could not reach you, then she would come to you herself.
The golden chariot descended upon your palazzo with a blinding flare of light, scorching the ground as it landed. Ra stepped out, her presence radiating heat and fury, the glow of the midday sun casting long shadows behind her. She strode to your door, her head held high, her temper barely restrained.
She knocked once, then twice.
“(Y/n), open this door,” she called, her voice firm, though a touch of pleading slipped through. “I am here to see you. Enough of this game.”
Inside, you sighed, your fingers tapping idly against the cold stone of your seat.
“Go away, Ra,” you called back, your voice as steady as the moon’s glow. “I have nothing to say to you.”
Ra frowned, placing both hands on the heavy doors.
“You can’t ignore me forever, love,” she said, her voice softening in a way that would have melted you before.
But now?
It grated on your nerves.
“Watch me,” you replied, turning your gaze to the shadows flickering along the walls. “Go back to your mortals, your sunlit temples, and your endless self-importance. You’ve already made it clear where your priorities lie.”
Ra’s frustration boiled over, and she pushed the doors open with a burst of divine strength, stepping inside without waiting for your permission.
“Enough!” she snapped, her voice echoing through the chamber. “I will not be dismissed like one of my emissaries. You are my moon, (Y/n). You belong with me.”
You turned slowly, your eyes glinting with a cold, silvery light.
“I belong to no one, Ra,” you said, your voice like a blade. “And if you’ve come to throw your weight around, you might as well leave. I’m done playing your games.”
Ra paused, her anger faltering as she met your gaze. For once, the Goddess of the Sun seemed unsure of herself, her radiance dimming slightly in the face of your quiet, unyielding defiance.
“Is this really how it’s going to be?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with hurt.
“That depends,” you replied, your tone icy. “Are you here to listen? Or are you here to win?”
Ra opened her mouth to respond, but for once, she found herself at a loss for words.
Ra stood there, glowing and silent, her pride and anger at war with something deeper—something softer she hadn’t dared to acknowledge for centuries.
But when she saw the unflinching determination in your silvery gaze, she realized this wasn’t a battle she could win with words or force.
Reluctantly, she stepped forward, her golden rays dimming slightly as she sat down across from you on a low stone bench.
Her movements were stiff, unaccustomed to surrender.
“Fine,” she said, folding her arms. “Speak your mind, (Y/n). I’ll listen. But don’t expect me to sit here in silence forever.”
You raised an eyebrow at her, your annoyance flaring.
“Oh, you’ll listen all right,” you said, leaning forward. “You’ll sit here and hear every word I have to say, Ra. Because I’ve had enough of this—of you.”
Ra flinched slightly but said nothing, her jaw tightening.
“For centuries,” you began, your voice trembling with both anger and pain, “I’ve been your afterthought. Your plaything when you’re bored. You come to me with sweet words and promises, but as soon as you get what you want, you vanish. You leave me here, alone, to clean up the messes you make or to wonder if I even matter to you at all.”
Ra opened her mouth to object, but you held up a hand.
“Don’t interrupt me,” you snapped. “Not this time. You want to act like you’re the center of the universe, like everything revolves around you, but I’m tired of being treated like I’m just… just some accessory to your brilliance. You say you care, but you don’t listen to me. You never have. If you did, you’d know how much you’ve hurt me.”
Ra’s lips pressed into a thin line, her golden eyes flickering with emotion.
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve begged you—silently or otherwise—to just see me?” you continued, your voice cracking. “To stop and think about what I might want or need? You’re so busy with your mortals, your endless need for worship, your constant light, that you never stop to realize how much you overshadow everything around you. Including me.”
The room fell silent, your words hanging heavily in the air. For a moment, you thought Ra would lash out, would storm away like she always did.
But instead, she looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read—something between guilt and vulnerability.
“You think I don’t listen to you,” she said softly. “But I do, (Y/n). I always have.”
You frowned, disbelief written across your face. “Oh, really?”
Ra nodded, her gaze unwavering.
“You hate how I barge into your palazzo uninvited. You think the mortals don’t appreciate the moon enough, and it frustrates you when they pray to me for things you’re responsible for—like the tides. You despise the way I tease you when we argue because you think I’m mocking you, even though I’m just trying to make you smile. And your favorite place to sit is that stone bench, even though you always complain about how cold it is.”
You blinked, momentarily stunned into silence.
Ra leaned forward, her voice growing softer.
“I know your favorite flowers are blue lotus because you say they remind you of the night sky. I know you hum to yourself when you’re stressed, and you hate how the shadows in your palazzo sometimes feel too quiet. I know that you think I only come to you when I need something, but the truth is…” She hesitated, her confidence faltering. “The truth is, I come to you because I need you. Always.”
Your heart twisted painfully at her words, but you weren’t ready to let her off the hook.
“Then why?” you asked, your voice sharp. “If you care so much, why do you act like I don’t matter? Why do you push me away and make me feel so… small?”
Ra’s gaze dropped, and for the first time in centuries, she looked vulnerable.
“Because you turned me down,” she admitted quietly. “Three times. When I asked you to marry me, you said no. Every time. You didn’t even give me a reason.”
Your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected this.
Ra continued, her voice tinged with bitterness and pain. “I thought… I thought you didn’t want me. That I wasn’t enough for you. So I tried to act like it didn’t matter, like I didn’t care. But it does, (Y/n). It always has.”
You stared at her, your mind racing.
You remembered those proposals—grand, dramatic gestures that had left you overwhelmed and uncertain.
You’d said no because you’d been afraid.
Afraid of what it would mean to bind yourself to someone as powerful and radiant as Ra.
Afraid of losing yourself in her light.
“I didn’t know…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Ra looked up at you, her golden eyes shining with an unfamiliar vulnerability.
“You never asked,” she said simply. “And I never told you. So here we are.”
Silence fell between you again, but this time, it was different—charged with a newfound understanding.
For the first time, you saw each other not as adversaries or gods, but as two beings who had hurt and been hurt in equal measure.
“What now?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling.
Ra reached out tentatively, her hand hovering over yours.
“That depends,” Ra said, her tone soft but steady. “Are you willing to forgive me, (Y/n)? Because I never wanted to hurt you.”
A couple of moments passed, the silence between you heavy with unspoken emotions.
Finally, you sighed, feeling the walls you’d built around yourself start to crumble.
“Fine. I forgive you,” you muttered, your voice tinged with reluctance. “I’m… sorry for rejecting you. I just—I felt afraid. I felt like I wasn’t ready.”
Ra paused, her expression softening as she stepped closer.
Her hands came up to gently cradle your face, her thumbs brushing against your cheeks.
“You’re already my wife in everything but title,” she murmured, her voice filled with quiet conviction. “You’re more ready than anybody. You hear me? You’re the most wonderful, beautiful, intelligent woman I’ve ever met. There’s nobody I’d like to have as my wife more.”
Before you even realized what was happening, your arms were around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. Her warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, it felt like everything had fallen into place. The sun and the moon, finally aligned.
“I missed this,” Ra said softly, her chin resting on your shoulder. “Just holding you. It feels… right. Doesn’t it?”
You nodded, letting yourself relax in her arms. “It does,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Ra pulled back just enough to look at you, her golden eyes searching your face. “We should do this more often,” she said with a playful smile. “Be close like this. No fighting, no distance. Just you and me, together.”
You smiled faintly, her sincerity chipping away at the last remnants of your frustration. “That would be nice,” you replied.
She leaned in, her forehead pressing gently against yours, and for a moment, everything was perfect. The world outside faded, leaving just the two of you, bound by an unspoken promise.
And then, Ra being Ra, couldn’t resist ruining the moment.
“You know,” she began, her tone taking on a mischievous lilt, “if you wanted, we could make this official. Right here, right now. Just the two of us, no distractions… maybe take this to the bed and—”
“Ra.”
Your sharp tone cut through her words like a blade, and her mouth snapped shut, her eyes wide with surprise.
You pulled back, your hands resting on her shoulders, your expression stern. “Don’t ruin this,” you warned, though there was a hint of amusement in your voice.
Ra blinked, then laughed nervously, scratching the back of her neck. “Right. Too soon. Got it.”
You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a small smile. “Way too soon,” you said, stepping back fully now. “Let’s just… take it slow, okay?”
“Slow. Sure. I can do slow,” Ra said, though the sparkle in her eyes suggested she wasn’t entirely used to the concept.
You shook your head, turning away to hide your grin.
“Unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath, but there was no mistaking the warmth in your tone.
For all her flaws, Ra had a way of making you feel like the center of her universe—when she wasn’t busy tripping over her own ego.
Maybe, just maybe, things could finally start to change.
Can you do more ra please maybe a bit of a yandere there ... Kidda reminds me of the song " the sun proposed to the moon " in the beginning probably atum aka ra is very infatuated with the goddess and want her to be their wife I'm just pronounce Ra they /them since she can change gender...( Tell me if I'm wrong)
Sorry if it’s a bit short :3 I didn’t have a lot of ideas with this one, I hope you enjoy!
Charred
Ra x gn!reader
TW: nightmares, sorta fluff, yandere tendencies
——————
You woke up with a start, your chest heaving as cold sweat dripped down your face, tears clinging stubbornly to your lashes.
The nightmares were relentless, gripping you in their claws for the third night in a row.
Before you could gather your bearings, a familiar weight moved behind you.
“What’s wrong, my love?” Ra’s voice was soft, laced with grogginess.
She slid an arm around your waist, pulling you closer before you could even think of retreating.
Her warmth pressed against you like the sun itself, oppressive yet oddly comforting.
“Another nightmare?” she murmured, brushing your damp hair away from your face. Her golden eyes searched yours with an intensity that made your heart race, though you weren’t sure if it was from comfort or unease.
“You know,” she continued, her lips ghosting against your temple, “I wish you’d tell me what’s bothering you. I can take it all away, you know. The pain, the fear… whatever it is. Just say the word, and I’ll make it disappear.”
Her grip around your waist tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of her strength, her presence, her unwavering focus on you. It wasn’t the first time she’d offered to solve your problems, her solutions always grand, always absolute.
You hesitated, your voice trembling. “It’s… nothing, Ra. Just a bad dream.”
Ra’s eyes narrowed slightly, her expression hardening for the briefest of moments before softening again.
“Nothing?” she repeated, her tone dangerously sweet. “You’re trembling, my love, drenched in sweat, your beautiful face etched with worry… and you expect me to believe it’s nothing?”
She pulled you even closer, her golden light seeping into the shadows of the room, as if banishing anything that dared upset you.
“You don’t have to carry these burdens alone, (Y/n),” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re mine, and I take care of what’s mine. You know that, don’t you?”
Her fingers brushed against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear.
“Please, my love,” she murmured, her eyes boring into yours. “Let me in. Tell me what haunts you. Or do you still think I’m not enough to protect you from whatever’s keeping you awake at night?”
There it was—the edge to her words, subtle but undeniable. Obsessive, overbearing, but undeniably laced with genuine care.
Ra didn’t know how to love gently, not when it came to you.
Her love was all-consuming, like the sun itself—unrelenting, fierce, and utterly inescapable.
Ra’s unwavering gaze pressed against you, heavy with expectation.
Her fingers rested against your cheek, warm and steady, as if anchoring you to her.
You swallowed, hesitating.
But Ra’s relentless focus didn’t falter; she wouldn’t let you hide.
“It was… about you,” you finally admitted, your voice trembling slightly.
Her eyes widened, just a fraction, but she didn’t interrupt.
You took a shaky breath, clutching the blanket tighter against your chest. “I dreamed… I dreamed that you left,” you said, the words tumbling out quicker than you intended. “Not like when you disappear to your temples or to deal with mortals. I mean… you were gone. Forever. You abandoned me, Ra. You didn’t even look back. It was just—dark. I was alone. Completely alone.”
Ra’s hand on your cheek tensed ever so slightly, her jaw tightening as her golden glow flared subtly, illuminating the shadows of the room. “Alone?” she repeated, her voice low and sharp, like the edge of a blade. “You dreamed that I left you?”
You nodded, your throat dry. “It felt so real,” you murmured. “Like I was… nothing without you. And no matter how much I called for you, you never came back. You didn’t care.”
For a moment, Ra was silent, her golden eyes locked onto yours. The light radiating from her body grew brighter, almost suffocating in its intensity, but her grip on you remained gentle.
When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet but filled with a dangerous kind of conviction.
“Never,” she said firmly. “That would never happen, (Y/n).”
She pulled you closer, so close that your foreheads touched, her warmth seeping into your skin.
“Do you hear me?” she whispered fiercely, her breath brushing against your lips. “I would never leave you. Not for a second, not for a moment, not for anything. You are mine, my moon. My stars. My constant. My balance. How could you ever think I’d abandon you?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but Ra continued, her tone growing more intense.
“It wasn’t real, (Y/n). I would burn the heavens to the ground before I let anything take me from you. You’re everything to me. Do you understand? Everything.”
Her hands cupped your face now, her thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall again. “That nightmare—it’s wrong. A lie. I could never… would never.”
Her voice cracked slightly, and for a fleeting moment, you saw something raw and unguarded in her expression.
“The thought of you feeling like that,” she muttered, more to herself than to you, “of thinking I don’t care… it’s unbearable.”
You exhaled shakily, the weight of her words pressing against your chest. “Ra…”
Her grip on your face softened, though her golden eyes still burned with a possessive light. “You’ll never be alone,” she said, her voice gentler now, but no less determined. “Even if you tried to push me away, I’d still be here. Always. Forever. Whether you like it or not, I’m yours. And you’re mine.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You weren’t sure if they comforted you or frightened you, but either way, you couldn’t deny their sincerity.
Ra’s love wasn’t soft or subtle—it was blinding, relentless, consuming. But in that moment, wrapped in her warmth, it was enough to silence the lingering echoes of your nightmare.
Her light illuminated the two of you as you laid under the blankets, lulling you softly to sleep.
“Marry me?” She asked softly in the dark.
“I’m not ready yet.” You replied quietly.
“It’s alright. I’ve got all the time in the world.” She kissed your eyes closed. “Goodnight, my moon, my stars, my brightest starlight.”
“Goodnight, sunshine.” You muttered back
Her love was like a raging fire.
You knew that.
And you knew she wouldn’t ever leave you loveless.
Even if it meant those flames charring you to death.
But now everything felt so far away. You felt so safe, so warm, shielded away from whatever worries would bother your tomorrow.
Before you knew it, you were fast asleep in each other’s arms.
My dear nile...
*huff*
*huff*
"!..ow-!"
A boy fell into the nile, all hurt as he hit the water.
"H!..help!"
The boy yell out for help as the water take him underneath it....but...nobody came...
"Poor child..." a voice!
A hope in the boys eyes bright up as a gentle hands take him up from the water to show a beautiful woman looking down at him, she was so tall that he have to look up at her.
"The child...of goddess of peace and God of life..." she knew... he could let out soft but painful crys as he lower his head, his tears hit the water but the woman still hold him as she smile softly.
"As the God of nile and happiness...I shall keep you save...take care of you my dear.." she said as the water took them underneath again.
The child open there's eyes to see himself in a warm blanket as he look around to see himself on a boat.
"..the child.. is aware.."
A man stood up with bright smile.
"Great! Welcome! As you know I'm God of the sun! Know as Ra! And this lovely woman is my wife!" Ra said as he kneel down with a smile.
"And you must be anubis .... right?" Ra smiled creepy at him as he quickly stood up with sweet smile when he looked at the woman.
"..be gentle...we need to take care of him..."
"...right...anything for you ...Y/n
Note: I got bored so I write something, is just...a small spoiler of the lost God au