Artist/Author: rosesofred
Title: Mahrokh
Fandom: Moon Knight, MCU
Summary: Marc pushes himself too hard so Khonshu steps in to show him why that's a bad idea. Khonshu refuses to let his avatar spiral the way his last one did and is willing to do whatever’s necessary to keep him afloat. Even if that means having an extremely cranky Moon Knight on his hands.
Notes & Warnings: spanking, vomiting, wound care, bathing
Marc heaved into the sink, stomach clenching into a painful knot when nothing came out. The bruises running up and down his abdomen made him feel like a pinata more than the fist of justice, but then he hadn’t carried out much justice tonight. He hadn’t managed more than a few punches before the giant of a man he’d tackled had flipped him over and given him some in return. Maybe he’d just overestimated his ability to take down someone so much larger than him but it was like once he was down he just couldn’t get up again. Thankfully the guy hadn’t wanted to kill him and just left with the lady’s purse he’d snatched, but it was still a failure. The bad guy got away, he got used as a punching bag.
Another twist in his stomach made him lurch forward, straining as his gut tried to force out its empty contents. He wobbled as his face grew red, coughing hard until he spit out some stomach acid. It felt sharp in his mouth, a stinging clear bile that felt like hell coming up. Marc groaned, turning on the faucet to wash it down and splash his face. He felt like hell.
But there was no time for this, he still had to track down the bastard who got away with that lady’s purse, and the heavens knew there were a hundred more like him. If he didn’t patrol, who would? He shouldn’t have let him get away. Marc groaned as he straightened, looking at his reflection in the mirror. Steven glared back at him, unhappy about their new black eye and split lip. Well he wasn’t the one fighting out there now, was he? Marc wiped his mouth, sighing when he saw Khonshu appear behind him in the mirror. He watched over his shoulder as the god stared back, disapproval written across his unmoving skull. Weird how he could tell when Khonshu was mad, even without the help of facial features.
When he blinked the god was gone, jumping slightly when Khonshu reappeared in front of him. He hunched over in the cramped space, too tall for the little bathroom as Marc stepped back. There was no time for this, he already knew what the god would say and he had to get going. He’d already had enough trouble getting back to Steven’s apartment with the Brit fighting him the entire way on who got to front. For some reason, Steven was under the impression that Marc wasn’t taking care of himself and needed to let either him or Jake front for a while.
Marc laughed at the thought, feeling like the only sane one in the room. He pushed past Khonshu, stopping when the god’s staff got in his way. His voice was almost loud enough to push him backward, echoing through the tiny space and making his ears ring. “You have failed me, Marc Spector.”
The mercenary glared up at him through his black eye, unwavering. “Yeah, I know. I’m working on it.” Marc grit his teeth as another wave of nausea hit, turning around to grab the edges of the sink as he gagged.
Though his voice was quieter now, Khonshu’s displeasure still laced every word. “Your devotion wavers.”
Steven’s scratching in the back of his mind made Marc grimace, struggling to maintain control as his alter tried to break through. He couldn’t quite block out Steven’s voice asking him to let go, to get some rest, but he tried anyway. Squeezing his eyes shut helped, but the Brit still nagged. He couldn’t tell if listening to Khonshu or Steven was more annoying, but either way, he had his own plans.
When Khonshu’s power rushed through him with enough force that Marc almost fell, he finally turned to confront the god. “What?!”
“You have grown weak, Moon Knight.” His sharp voice only made Marc’s head hurt worse, the pounding pressure inside growing with every second. There were too many people speaking at once. “The chaos inside of you is stronger, I feel your wavering.” Khonshu stood up a little straighter, still too tall for the room. “But fear not, Marc Spector. I will remind you of your purpose.”
“God, will you just shut up for one fucking second?” He snapped his focus back to the god, snarling as he spoke. Whatever possessed him to face Khonshu with so much confidence now, he hoped it didn’t leave. “I know my purpose, Sesame Street. And I have perfect control. Just let me work. It’s a hell of a lot harder to work with you always hovering over me…” Before he could get out the last word he felt his stomach jump, barely making it to the sink again as more stomach acid came up. It might’ve hurt less if there was something to actually throw up, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. To be honest, he wasn’t even sure what day it was.
When the wave passed Marc wiped off his face with a towel, throwing it on the floor when he was done. He felt like he might pass out, his eyelids felt so heavy. But he couldn’t sleep now, there was still justice to be served. “You cannot fight in this state,” Khonshu warned, leaning on his staff. “There will be unpleasant consequences if you continue to push yourself.”
Looking around, Marc grabbed his mask off the towel rack, hitting it against his leg to get off any dirt before he pulled it over his head. “I’m fine, Khonshu. Just let me work.” With a determined sigh, Marc pushed off the wall, ready to track down the purse thief and give him his own black eye. There was no time to be weak. Not tonight.