#Asylum Patient Arthur Harrow

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ARTHUR HARROW X FTM READER - PART 3 (ASYLUM PATIENT HARROW)

Summary: You have a plan to expel Ammit from Arthur’s body and visit him in the asylum. Continuation of: You’re part of Arthur Harrow’s community, but hold a special place. Arthur Harrow (Cult Leader) x FTM Reader. Rating: Explicit (Contains smut Warning for non-con/dub-con, One-sided Breeding Kink from Harrow, talk about getting Reader pregnant, Praise kink, use of good boy, reader curses a few times. Words: 7059 Tags: Older man x younger (ftm) reader, non-con & dub-con and consensual intimacy, intercourse in a wheelchair, blowjob, (one-sided) breeding kink, praise kink, touching, kissing, explicit sexual content, bit of powerplay, you x the villainous cult leader, You rescuing Arthur.

( PART ONE HERE & PART TWO HERE )

Thanks to the wonderful supporter who commissioned this fic ♡

For: @apriltearsbringmayfears

THREE:

The asylum greeted you with an eerie warmth, the shared area a false haven with its pristine decor and faded wallpaper whispering tales of minds unraveling. A nurse, her smile a practiced curve of lips, extended a slender finger toward one of the many tables.

"Mr. Harrow is over there, sir," she murmured before drifting away, her steps silent on the carpeted floor.

And there he was. Arthur Harrow. At a table, in a wheelchair. It was so unexpected, so horrifying to see. He was so unlike himself that it made you forget to breathe. White clothes, stark against his pallid skin, purity tainted. Despite having been dressed smartly, he was a pale shadow of the man you once knew. A man who commanded the attention of many with just a whisper. Now, he seemed diminished, confined by metal and cushion, a king dethroned. His sandals with glass had been swapped for simple dark boots, even though he couldn’t walk any longer.

You carefully approached, each step a drumbeat in the quiet. The closer you got, the more details assaulted your senses. His hair, once a proud mane of brown, was now laced with silver strands that fell carelessly to his shoulders. It framed a face that had lost its vigor, the once bright blue eyes now dull mirrors reflecting a world turned grey.

The sight of him clawed at your insides, a visceral reaction. Your breath hitched; a bitter taste coated your tongue. Arthur, the man who once praised with rough affection, was now reduced to this. It was dehumanizing. A smudge of liquid discolored the front of his shirt, a mark of neglect that sent a surge of rage through your veins.

He was purity desecrated, devotion defiled. The scales tattooed on his arm, hidden beneath the sleeve of his blouse, lay dormant. Ammit's magic, once a force that tipped life and death at his whim was now trapped within a crumbling vessel.

You were here to right a wrong. To reclaim what was lost. To restore power to the hands that once held yours with a fierce tenderness. The sanctuary he built, the community he fostered – it wasn't meant to end like this. Curse Marc Spector. Curse Khonshu. Curse them all.

It had taken a while to find him and to find a solution for his holy problem, but you had managed. Rather late than never, you reasoned.

Your gaze found Arthur and time fractured, splintering into a thousand shards of memories.

His eyes met yours, and there it was – a spark, the faintest flicker of recognition and relief igniting in those blue depths. It was the same look that had once beckoned you into secret embraces, whispered sweet nothings laced with reverence. He might have been declared insane, but he still recognized you. Did he miss it, you wondered? Did he miss his community – not a cult – where your love had flourished under the guise of devotion?

"Hello, my good boy," he rasped, voice a ghost of its former command, yet it surged through you, rekindling an ember thought extinguished.

You closed the distance between you with hurried steps, your heart a frenzied drumbeat against your ribs. When you finally stood at his side, you reached for the cup he was reaching for, fingers brushing his. The contact was electric, a current of past intimacy jolting through you.

"Let me," you murmured, tilting the cup to his lips.

Gratitude etched itself onto his features, a softening around the eyes, a twitch at the corner of his mouth. You steadied his shaking hands, held firm as he drank. With each swallow, he seemed to grow stronger, more present.

“I knew it. Of all people, I knew you would come,” he rasped while you lowered the cup. A little trail of water trickled down the corner of his lips and you felt tempted to lean closer and kiss it away. But you couldn’t. Not with all these nurses and patients around who would be able to see.

“I apologize for any spillage,” Arthur’s husky voice brought you out of your thoughts and you tore your gaze away from his lips. Once your gaze met his again, you realized he must have seen you staring. “They keep me drugged so I can’t harm them,” here he smiled, but the drugs he mentioned must be paralyzing half of his face, for the smile turned into half a smirk. You could see that his fingers trembled.

You set the cup down, a cheap cardboard cup that already had dents in it. His hands lingered near yours, trembling with unspoken need, the ghost of his touch a whisper against your skin.

"Missed you," he rasped, voice gravel and honey. The words hung heavy in the air, a confession wrapped in two syllables. Your heart clenched – tight, painful – a fist around old memories.

"Arthur," you breathed out, a prayer, an oath. His name tasted of sacred secrets, of nights cloaked in reverence and sin. You leaned closer, felt the heat radiating from his body, saw the longing in his eyes.

"Can't think straight," he murmured, a crack in his composure. "She's in here." His hand fluttered to his temple, fingers pressing into gray flesh. "Screaming."

Your blood ran cold. Ammit. The goddess' fury, a tempest trapped beneath his skull. You imagined her roar, guttural and raw, echoing through the chambers of his mind. She must be angry and demanding revenge.

"She’s always screaming, doesn’t understand humanity," Arthur continued, voice a mere thread. "I can't control her."

"Shh," you hushed, a soothing balm. You placed your hand on top of his to stop the trembling, gently squeezing as a sign of comfort. "I'm here now." A vow, a promise etched into the marrow of your bones. You'd tear heaven asunder to quiet the storm within him.

His eyes met yours, darkening with unspoken feelings. Affection, you mused. Perhaps lust. It had been a while since you two last had held each other. Months. Too long. It was about time you relieved him from the goddess inside of him.

"And I have a plan,” you said, hiding a small smile.

“A plan?” he repeated, whilst you slowly let go of his hand, your fingers brushing past his cold knuckles. Why were his hands this cold, you wondered?

You rounded the table to come and stand behind him, flashing a small comforting smile at one of the nurses as she looked up – a signal sign that you were handling things with Harrow here.

“But for this, we need privacy,” you said, gripping the wheelchair's handles, your hands steadying the metal frame. You could see Arthur’s shoulders tense and then relax again, a sign of understanding. Then you started to push.

You maneuvered the chair with practiced ease, the wheels singing a lullaby against the sterile floor. Through hallways, around corners. Your eyes slid to the man you loved, studying him as he tried to sit straight in the wheelchair. You couldn’t help but see that even diminished to this, he was still so very tall. An imposing figure, with long legs and slender fingers, strong arms, his head held high. Arthur guided you with slight tilts of his head, each gesture a subtle command.

"Left here," he murmured, the timbre of his voice a caress against the chill air. A turn, then another. His room loomed ahead, simplistic and colorless as nearly every other room you had passed.

"In here," he said, and you obeyed. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest as you rolled him into his room and hit the brake.

The door shut with a click and you looked around. There wasn’t any way to lock the door from the inside. But you were in luck. The door swung into the room, instead of outward. Which meant you could use something to block the door. There wasn’t much, but you noticed a metal cabinet that looked too heavy to move. Nevertheless, you were going to try it.

You gritted your teeth and pushed. But as expected, the thing wouldn’t budge. Glancing around, you caught sight of a chair and wedged it beneath the doorknob. It would have to do.

"There," you breathed out before turning around to face Arthur. His gaze held yours, a curious look within it.

“The nurses are going to question that,” he said, and you chuckled, wiping your sleeve past the corner of your lips.

“I didn’t exactly bring any backup to stand on the watch out. But yeah, when I said privacy, I meant it.”

Arthur hummed, an indescribable look in his eyes.

Without explaining, you knelt in front of him, between his legs, and tugged the laces of his boots. Because Arthur was right. The nurses had their rounds and checkups. And Ammit wasn’t quite dormant in Arthur’s mind. If she caught the slightest whiff of what you were about to do, she could take full control. You had no doubt that even in his heavily weakened state, Arthur’s body was still capable of overpowering you. And Ammit would not hesitate to use his body to stop you.

There just wasn’t any time to waste.

The coolness of the floor seeped through the fabric of your pants, a chilling reminder of the sterility around you. Your hands reached for his boots, fingers brushing against the worn fabric. The intimacy of the act, simple yet profound, hung heavy in the air.

"Let me," you said, voice barely above a whisper, laced with affection. Arthur's eyes, oceans of azure marred by pain, widened slightly. As you took off his boots you felt relieved that there was no glass in them. The sandals with the shards were gone. Arthur’s feet were still scarred but didn’t look as bad as you’d feared they would.

A brush of his hand on your head made you halt and glance up at him. His fingers curled in your hair, gently combing, gently feeling, while he stared down at you through half-lidded eyes.

Oh. He must be mistaking your actions.

Well, shit. You couldn’t quite explain the ritual to him right now. Ammit might know what you’d be up to. Let him believe what he will, you mused. As long as you got his legs bare and were able to paint the hieroglyphics on his body.

A short glance at the black lipstick you’d brought along – it would have to do. You squeezed your fingers around it, grounding yourself and gathering all your courage before you looked up at Arthur again.

“I need these taken off,” you said, already reaching for his fly and unzipping it. You tried to shimmy it down his hips – which was quite the task when he was still seated in the wheelchair.

As you tugged, his fly fell open and out rose his enormous cock. Red and throbbing, the veins pulsing and the slit wet with pre-cum. You realized he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath. Had the nurses not dressed him properly? Your mouth turned dry as you stared at his bobbing erection, not expecting him to be this aroused. The man was drugged for God’s sake! Whatever was this?

Your eyes widened, but as you started to look up to meet his gaze, something in his posture changed. Arthur's breath hitched, and suddenly, his hands – those strong, commanding conduits of divine wrath – were upon you, digging into your skull.

A low, hoarse moan escaped his throat. “How I missed you,” the words dripped like hot chocolate, velvety and rich with desire. You hadn’t even been able to lock eyes with him before he pushed your head down, your lips forcefully brushing past the head of his cock.

A deep gasp from his lips. “Ah, that is good,” he groaned as he pushed your head a little closer, the pungent scent of sweat and arousal making you feel heady. “My dear, dear boy.”

Before you could protest he pushed you forward, the tip of his shaft pressing against your lips and between them. And then the heavy taste of pre-cum and salty flesh filled your mouth as the hard flesh pressed down onto your tongue. You tried not to choke, not to gag when he hit the back of your throat without warning. Your fingers curled in the air before you pushed at his hips, hoping to push him away.

But if he caught sight of your distress, he ignored it. Instead of loosening his hold on you and letting you go, his grip tightened before he forcefully started to move your head up and down his shaft. Saliva coated whatever part of his member wasn’t inside your mouth, leaving a nasty wet trail that ran down the veined flesh and pooled around his sack.

The noises you made were sinful. Wet, gagging noises while he guided you up and down. The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat painfully, bringing tears to your eyes as you struggled to breathe. You tried to move your hands, but the lack of oxygen made your vision blurry and stole away your strength.

Arthur’s low grunts filled the room, staining the otherwise sterile environment. His hips moved slightly, meeting you thrust for thrust. Once, he dipped in so deep that you could no longer breathe, and held himself there. You thought you could hear his chuckle, devilish and low. You wondered if this was Arthur or the goddess who inhabited his body.

When stars clouded your vision and everything turned black, he finally pulled away, leaving you gasping for air. You tumbled forward, his hands no longer in your hair. But then you felt his fingers underneath your chin, lifting it, squeezing until your lips opened in an ‘o’, and in he went again.

You gurgled around his shaft, fighting not to choke and to keep breathing. But this time when he pushed deep into your throat, his other hand squeezed your nostrils shut, allowing you no way to breathe. He kept moving, thrust after delirious thrust, until you choked on his cum.

When he finally let go, you fell forward between his legs, struggling for air. A trail of cum and saliva fell from your lips and onto his inner thighs, spilling over his bare flesh and sticking to the hairs on his legs. He grunted, voice low and ominous, while his hands gently caressed the sides of your head.

“Good, that was good,” he praised, the softness of his touch sending you reeling.

You scrambled for the black lipstick you had dropped. With the position you were in, you would be able to draw the hieroglyphs on his legs, especially now that his pants came down with a simple tug. There was no time to waste.

“Such a shame it was all spilled thought,” you heard Arthur murmur, trying to give it no mind. “Should have been better spent inside, filling you up, nestling in those nice eggs of yours, turning you fat with my child.”

You leaned in a little closer, your nose brushing past his inner thigh, and drew the first glyph on his leg. But it was as if he didn’t even notice what you were doing to him. As if the fact that your head was still between his legs was enough to distract him.

Arthur raised a brow at you, silently showing surprise. Another misunderstanding, he clearly thought you wanted more. But you were convinced he wouldn’t be able to get it up again so soon after having his balls drained.

You were wrong.

While he played with your hair, fingers running gently past the shells of your ears and then your cheeks, you undressed his lower half and set to work. Still catching your breath, you managed to paint the simple hieroglyphics and, proud of yourself, you looked up to beam at him.

Only then did you notice the dark blue eyes that were fixed upon you, gaze intense, making you feel hot in the pit of your stomach. Arthur’s hand caressed your cheek, a gentle and kind movement after the roughness with which he had guided you before.

A twitching movement caught your attention and when you tried to peek from the corner of your eyes, you saw the angry red head of his shaft bob against his belly, the slit wet and weeping pre-cum again.

Your eyes widened, lips parted in surprise. No. How could he be aroused again that fast? And… had he even noticed what you’d been doing to him? Didn’t he understand that this was all part of the plan to free him?

Or was he aware of what you were onto, a little voice inside your mind said. Was he aware, but did he try to distract Ammit by touching you instead, making her believe that this was all some part of a sexual play between the two of you?

Was Ammit awake inside of him now?

You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to guess. All you knew was you had to be careful. Just another symbol on his back and the verse you had taught yourself…. and the goddess would be expelled from his body.

You didn’t have time to ponder on the subject any longer. Arthur leaned forward, his shadow falling over you, seizing your wrists with a firmness that felt possessive. He pulled you up, erasing the space between you, having you struggle to stand on your feet as he drew you close.

His lips found yours, uncaring about the taste of his own cum that still lingered there. The kiss he gave you was passionate, yearning, and ignited a familiar fire within. You melted into him, relishing the taste lingering on his tongue, the rough edge of his stubble scraping against your skin. He still tasted mostly the same. You missed the lentil undertone, but in essence, this was still your Arthur.

When the kiss broke, reality rushed back in. You were supposed to save him. As Arthur's rough hands grabbed your hips, he supported himself on the armrests of his wheelchair, grinding his hips against yours. You could feel his warmth and need through your pants, a heat that seared and burned through the thin fabric.

His hand trailed up your shirt, pinching your nipple between his strong fingers. The stinging sensation sent a jolt of lust straight to your core. Enough was enough, you thought, as you pushed against his chest. But his lips were on yours again, capturing them. His cock twitched between your legs, pressing against your still-clad erection.

“Arthur,” you finally managed to croak when his lips finally left yours, but he dove in again, his hands fumbling with your pants until you felt him open your fly. His hand was on your cock, gently tugging and stroking, while his lips traced to your neck.

“No,” you whimpered. “This wasn’t-”

"Praise be to Ammit," the low murmur made you freeze on his lap, allowing him the chance to push a digit into your hot and throbbing core. Your walls squeezed together at the touch, thighs clenching as he started a slow pace. Unwelcome, but oh-so good.

Arthur grinned against your neck, you felt his canines scrape past your skin. His finger moved deeper, firmer, erupting a yelp from your lips. It was now or never, you thought. It was clear he wanted more. You fumbled with the lipstick but realized he still needed the symbol on his back, and his upper half was still dressed. Groaning, you moved your hips, sitting up on your knees. Arthur misinterpreted the movement and instantly abused your position to pull your pants down. With his fingers gone from your core, you felt you could think again.

You instantly started to tug at Arthur’s jacket, relieved that he moved along so it could slide from his arms. Of course, he’d think you wanted to have him undressed to have sex. Well, you could indulge him a little.

But when you tugged on Arthur’s shirt he surprised you by capturing your wrists in his large hand, squeezing almost painfully.

“Aren’t you eager,” he said, grinning. A lazy thrust against your thigh alerted you of his hard cock, pre-cum slipping past your skin, so very near your core. When had he managed to take your pants off entirely? How had he managed to get your core exposed this swiftly?

Confused, you sat back to look up at him, attempting to avoid accidentally sitting on his hard weeping cock. He grinned when he saw you were avoiding him, but seemed to take it as a challenge. The grip on your wrists tightened while he leaned his head forward, his forehead pressed against your cheek as you heard him take a deep breath.

“Oh no, dear boy, you’re going to let me come inside of you. And you’re going to take all I have to give you, is that clear?”

You breathed loudly, pressing your lips into a firm line, as he lifted you onto his lap. You straddled him, your legs trembling with anticipation and fear. With one swift motion, he impaled you onto him, making you cry out as fuck- it hurt! Yes, he had been preparing you, and yes, you were slick. But damn, your head was elsewhere. Occupied with the ritual. You’d wanted the intimacy to wait until after Ammit was out of his body. The gods only know how that crocodile-headed goddess was experiencing this intimacy. Was she enjoying ravaging you? Did she feel Arthur’s orgasms as if they were her own?

“Arthur,” you said, his name coming out like a plea, as if you were begging. Perhaps you were. But his lips thinned and his eyes darkened. The grip on your wrists was unyielding, forcing you up and down on top of his shaft until you saw no other alternative but to wrap your legs around his waist and move along.

You gasped your own cock feeling hopelessly neglected. You were aware that you must be looking flushed, that your eyes had never left Arthur’s since he started thrusting inside of you. Damn it, you had a task to do.

A strangled moan escaped your lips as he filled you completely, bottoming out, stretching you in ways you hadn't been in months. Arthur's eyes were locked onto yours, his blue orbs blazing with desire and something else- power. His hips ground into yours, rocking the wheelchair, as he whispered in your ear, "Good boy," his breath hot and ragged.

You groaned, your body taking the full impact of his blows. If this man was drugged to restrain him, then how hard would the thrusts have been if he hadn’t been drugged? You threw your head back, finally breaking the eye contact, and enjoyed the feel of Arthur’s hands roughly exploring your skin.

“Still so darn tight,” the man muttered, his lips seeking the hollow of your throat before he nipped there. “Like I’m fucking a damn virgin over and over again.”

You felt how he grinned against your skin, felt the sharp tips of his canines against your pulse as he mercilessly kept thrusting deep inside your core. “But you’re no innocent boy, are you?”

You shook your head, crying out involuntarily when another particular hard thrust had you bounce nearly off his legs. You clawed at his chest, fingers grabbing a hold of his shoulders. The lipstick pressed against his pale skin, the cold container of it tight against his burning flesh.

Something in his eyes glistened, dark and knowing. Was he aware? But then he increased his pace and you were left crying and gasping because each thrust it something deep inside that wasn’t just good, but also painful. In a way, it helped bring you back to your senses. You realized that for a moment you’d become lost in the passion, the arousal, the lust of it all. The pain was bringing you down to earth, even if it was a good sort of pain. The type that made your tummy tingle, your cock quirk and your walls squeeze him even tighter.

You fumbled with the makeup, trying your best to draw the symbol on Arthur’s back without being able to see the shape. Arthur’s irregular and sometimes even cruel pace made the task nearly impossible, but you clung onto him, hearing his ragged breaths and feeling his heart beat against your skin. Chest to sweat chest, you held him in an embrace – it was the only way you could reach his back.

He was grunting, his hips moving against your own. Wet, sloppy sounds reached your ears, distracting you.

You heard how Arthur swallowed, then felt his hands slide down your back before he squeezed your ass. “Going to come so hard inside of you,” he growled, his voice raw and animalistic.

“Going to come so hard you’ll see stars.” Thrust. “Fuck my child into you,” sloppy. Another thrust. “Fuck you until you can’t walk, till you’re round and fat with my babies.” A particularly painful deep thrust, as if he tried to prove his point – as if he tried to push his cock past your cervix and into your womb.

If you would have had either left.

The goddess, you thought, this time more certain of it. Trust Ammit to try and have Harrow fuck her out of him. You smirked, wondering if that would have been a possibility. But with you, it wouldn’t work.

Arthur’s taste was different than hers.

He fancied you. And you’d take everything he would give you.

Throwing your head back again when Arthur nibbled at your neck, you drew the last line. Just in time, because Arthur’s rhythm became more punishing. Finally, he seemed to remember your pleasure, for his hand went down between your bodies and you felt his fingers stroke your cock.

You groaned, feeling his cock deep inside your tight canal, feeling his calloused fingertips slide past your most sensitive part. And then you came apart.

You cried out, body trembling as you tightened around him.

It seemed to be enough, for Arthur gasped your name, hips jerking against your own, thrusts shallow while your body was flooded with warm juices. His hot cum filled you up, just like he had promised, but started to trickle down his still pulsing shaft.

The words came out through gritted teeth in the order you had remembered them. Arthur was caught in his afterglow, not able to fully hear or understand what you were saying. But you grasped his shoulders and held him in an embrace, pushing his head against your flat chest, speaking louder and louder.

His body started to tremble. This time, you could hear the roar he must have heard for months inside of his head. The goddess he had revered for so many years broke loose from his skin. You’d done it.

Arthur's body stiffened in your arms, his blue eyes wide with shock and betrayal. Blood spilled from his lips, staining your chest as his grip on you loosened. You scrambled out of his lap, taking the opportunity to stand up and back away. A mixture of his semen and your slick trickled down your legs. You saw how Arthur’s eyes focused on that.

The symbol on his back began to glow an otherworldly green, the air around you charged with a supernatural energy. Then, as if in slow motion, Arthur Harrow's body began to convulse and contort. Bones cracking, skin splitting, you stared in horror and fascination as a monstrous form began to emerge from the man you loved.

The room seemed to be bathed in a green light entirely now. As if you were on a set for a movie. You couldn’t pinpoint the source, but you knew it wasn’t natural.

Before you, Arthur slumped in his chair. His head lolled to the side and for a moment you feared he was dead. That empty gaze that rested upon you, unblinkingly, wasn’t normal. And so you cried out his name in despair.

The figure that had risen before him, like a mist that had been torn out of his body, growled at you and said something in an ancient language you didn’t fully understand. But you knew she teased you. She was angry, despite you helping her out.

Wasn’t that what she had wanted all along? To be free again?

The larger-than-life goddess spread her beak wide, sharp teeth snapping at you. She rose a few feet into the air, then seemed to shrink in on herself. Dark mist swirled around her, enveloping her. And then a rush of wind brushed past you, so hard and fast – as if a hurricane had hit the room. You had to shield your head with your arms and close your eyes. A loud bang to your side indicated where she had gone, because when you opened your eyes again, she was no longer to be seen.

An air vent to your left was left shattered. So… she had escaped through there, eh?

You would have rejoiced, but seeing Arthur’s lifeless body in the wheelchair had you in tatters. What the fuck was this? He wasn't supposed to die! You were supposed to save him and get rid of that powerful being who had been tormenting him from the inside.

As you scrambled over to Arthur’s body slumped in the wheelchair, you tripped a few times, sliding over the slick that had dropped from your body and the discarded items of clothing that were left there. You heard rushed footsteps in the hall. Would the nurses come and check? The chair was still blocking the door.

No, don’t think of that. When you finally arrived by Arthur’s side and grabbed his arm to check for his pulse, he stirred. You’d never been so relieved. Ever.

Flinging your arms around his neck, you hugged him close. “By the gods,” you breathed, tears already stinging the corners of your eyes. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” you murmured, laughing when you heard confused noises escape Arthur’s throat.

He blinked up at you, blearily, and then finally grinned. Ah, there he was again. Your man, your leader.

“I would never dare to leave my favorite disciple behind,” he said, a low chuckle escaping him as he returned the hug with trembling arms. Ammit might have left him, but the drugs certainly hadn’t left his body.” Even if I have to find a new religion,” he lamented.

“Not going to bravely rush after her and offer yourself as her new avatar then, I take it?’ You asked with a smirk.

“Naah, not quite in the mood for it,” Arthur murmured. He looked at you with a familiar softness, a gaze that spoke of the love he felt for you. Then, his eyes traced down your naked body and he frowned.

“I am so sorry, you must be sore. With how I… how we… handled you.”

But you already raised a hand and shushed him. “It’s all right, Arthur. I wasn’t necessarily in the mood for it, but it made a great distraction.”

Arthur grinned again. “I always knew you liked the ‘D’.”

And you blushed because… “What do you mean?” You narrowed your eyes at him, but playfully.

“The ‘D’,” Arthur simply repeated, sounding more tired now that the goddess was out of him. “From distraction.”

“Oh,” you frowned but had to admit the wordplay was rather clever. You placed a hand on your hip and sighed, looking at the scattered articles of clothing on the floor in front of you. You’d have to gather them and get dressed quickly before the nurses would arrive. Also, the chair….

“And of course, you also like the other ‘D’. I mean, you liked it so much you got yourself not one, but two.”

Here you frowned at Arthur while you started to collect his shirt and pants from the floor, wincing as you had to bend over – your insides were sore. “Two?”

Arthur pointed at your cock, no longer erect, and you flushed.

“Ah, well,” you started, ready to say something clever when you were interrupted. The door shuddered, a violent prelude to chaos. One kick, then a second one. They only needed two. Wood splintered as the barrier burst inward, the chair flung across the room, spinning on its legs.

Heart hammering, you twisted around, Arthur's naked vulnerability suddenly exposed under the harsh glare of intrusion. A man stood in the doorway, his ominous silhouette casting a shadow into the room. You used the clothes you held in your hands to shield your body from him and give yourself some modesty.

You didn’t recognize the man in the doorway, but by the sharp intake of breath from Arthur, you instantly knew that they were acquainted. And whoever this man was, he meant nothing good.

“Come to visit, Mr. Spector?” Arthur drawled with a feigned confidence.

Oh, so this was Marc Spector? You’d heard all about him but hadn’t had a proper look yet. You slowly turned your gaze to the newcomer again, he looked rather rugged. Red shaded the skin underneath his eyes, his gaze dark and aimed at Arthur.

Arthur didn’t seem intimidated though, and despite being naked and vulnerable in his wheelchair, he lifted his arm – which was a very floppy movement thanks to the drugs – and circled his hand in an open gesture.

“I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a rather inconvenient time.” He then gestured the lame hand at his naked lap, his half-hard cock resting on his right thigh, the skin still shiny – covered in your combined juices.

Marc didn’t bat an eye. How many naked people had he run into during his lifetime? How could he stand cool and emotionless like this?

He stood there for a moment longer, glaring daggers at Arthur while you studied Marc’s dark coat, his brimmed had that cast a shadow over his eyes, the contempt which lay in his gaze. Then, his lips curled into a sneer, voice dripping disdain.

"Quite the holy communion," he spat, eyes raking over Arthur. There was an odd accent to his voice. You weren’t the only one who noticed it.

A gasp tore from Arthur's throat, his body tensing. "There’s something different about you," he said, voice calm while his whole body showed he was anything but. He was unnerved – a rare sight to see, and you were instantly on alert. Was Marc going to kill him?

You knelt down as the two men had a stare-off and quickly discarded Arthur’s clothes in favor of picking up your own pants. You dressed while you watched as Marc chuckled. He shook his head, bringing a gloved hand to the brim of his hat. You heard him mutter something. Was that Spanish? Arthur seemed to catch it too for his eyes widened.

“You can’t harm me,” he murmured, a slight twitch in his thigh. He was nervous and tried not to show it. You zipped your fly and picked up Arthur’s clothes again, hesitating. Should you step between them?

But Marc brought his hand to his waistband and revealed a black gleaming gun. He aimed at Arthur’s chest, and you watched as your lover’s hands rose in defense and surrender.

“No,” his voice sounded broken, hoarser than you’d ever heard him before. “Please.”

You couldn’t watch this and stepped in between, uncaring if Marc would hit you in the chest and kill you. It was a risk you were willing to take.

“For god’s sake, this man is defenseless,” you seethed, clutching the white clothes in your hands. You felt the soft squelch of Arthur’s semen as it dripped from your nether region.

“God’s sake?” Marc cocked his head, the gun still aimed at your chest. But he had let go of the trigger, his finger free in the air. Surprise, no matter how faint, was visible in his features.

“Yes,” you snapped at him, anger seeping from your pores. “I just brought him back and now you wish to murder him?” You flailed your arms about, Arthur’s clothes accidentally slapping against Marc’s chest in the progress, but you were too focused on your rant.

“If you came for some petty revenge then I am going to point you to the door. It’s there, Behind you. There,” you shouted, pointing over his shoulder. In the distance, you could hear the quick shuffling of feet and the rushed voices of the nurses. They must have heard the consternation and worriedly came to check what was going on.

Just great. This was the last thing you needed.

“You’re not Marc,” Arthur rasped from behind your back, rubbing his own cheek weakly. “And you’re not Steven either. Who are you?” he commanded.

“The name’s Jake,” the man you previously assumed to be Marc answered, almost sounding annoyed. “Jake Lockley. I’ve not time for this chitchat.”

“You go and tell your twin if he wants Ammit gone he has to chase her. Because she just legged it,” you growled, ready to push against Jake’s chest. Luckily you could contain the impulse. You had no idea how strong this stranger in front of you actually was.

Jake’s eyes flickered. The gun drooped, its threat ebbing away like a tide leaving the shore. Skepticism curled Jake's lip, but his gaze slid past you, to where the vent lay twisted, a gaping maw in the wall. A string of Spanish curses spilled from him, raw and biting. He backed away, the hunt reignited in his eyes.

"Damn it," he snarled before whirling on his heel, coat billowing like the wings of a vengeful spirit.

You heard the confused yelps of the nurses. Surely he would need their help to get out. You were in a sanatorium, a psychiatric ward. They had locked doors and special keycards everywhere.

Without hesitating you rushed after him, throwing Arthur his clothes to cover up. He caught them, holding them tightly in his lap just in time before the first nurse arrived. She gasped when she saw the door dangling from only one of its hinges.

As you ran out of the room, you had to push past a few more nurses before you finally caught up with Jake.

“You’re with him?” one of the nurses asked. Luckily, Jake didn’t deny it, and though you couldn’t find it in you to talk, a nod was enough to have her open the door for you both. You followed him outside to where a cab was waiting and watched him as he yanked the door open.

Inside the car, you could faintly distinguish a tall shape. A figure larger than life. Khonshu. God of the moon, was draped in ethereal robes that ripple like quicksilver. Jake turned to yell something over his shoulder. Spanish again. The god seemed disturbed, but unmoving.

“And who is that boy?” The god’s words surprised you and you froze.

Finally, Jake seemed to acknowledge your presence. He turned toward you, a foul sneer curling his lips downward while he reached for the door.

“Consider yourself lucky, boy. Go back to fucking that old shell of a bastard, before my master changes his mind and wants to kill the fucker.”

The door smashed closed before you could say anything. You watched, heart thudding, as they peeled away from the curb, tires screeching a frantic hymn to the chase.

Well, that was that then. Would they leave Arthur alone now, you wondered? And where had Ammit gone?

As you looked up, though, you could see the goddess had left a trace of destruction in her wake. During her escape, she had torn apart both buildings and roads. Not major damage such as broken down or collapsed buildings. But little things such as dangling roof tiles, broken windows, and split asphalt on the roads.

Returning to Arthur, you weren’t surprised to find a group of nurses had gathered there, lamenting the state of his room. It took you about an hour to get them to calm down and to help Arthur to a new room. All the while, you were stubbornly ignoring the questions and glances you received because they had found Arthur in a state of undress.

Why did they even wonder if anything sexual had happened? It was obvious, right?

Once everyone and everything had settled down, you and Arthur were seated at the same table you’d found him at earlier that day, sharing a drink. He seemed less shaken, though slightly more withdrawn into himself. As if he was thinking about everything he had learned today.

"Khonshu," you finally said. "He was with Jake."

Arthur's gaze lifted, bright blue eyes searching yours. “That answered my question,” he said, voice a low whisper.

You raised a brow, curiously.

“I already wondered if Khonshu had chosen Marc, or Steven, because he would be easy to break. Figures he was already broken.”

You smiled gently and squeezed his hand in your own, relieved when he returned your smile.

"How are you?" you asked, voice laced with concern that scratches at your throat. It’s not every day that you almost get murdered. Or have a goddess exorcised out of your body.

"I'm alive because of you," he rasped, his words heavy with gratitude. You were already holding one of his hands, but he now gently placed his other hand on top.

"Listen to me, Arthur," you said. "I will get you out of here. Now that you’re sane again, you don’t belong here any longer. I’ve already spoken to one of the nurses and I’m having another chat before I leave. But I’m not leaving you behind. We’re going to find a way to get you out of here. You’re going to be free again."

Trust flickered in his eyes, a flame rekindled. His smile broke through the greyness.

“I can’t wait to be out of here, you know what I really missed?”

You eyed him suspiciously. Me? But instead, you said, “What?”

“Lentil soup.”

You groaned.

“You know what, you can stay another day-”

He cut you off, his lips soft against your own. Behind you, you could swear to hear the exasperated voices of the nurses. But you didn’t care. You were going to get Arthur out of here.

Your Arthur. The man who would soon be back at your side. Indefinitely.

[girlwithwolftatoo]

Hey there! I hope you having a good day and in a good health too! I saw you opening request and i been thinking for some time... do you remember in the asylum where arthur become dr.harrow? I thought it would be nice to have gender neutral patient with dr. Harrow fanfic? It's alright if you were busy atm, i hope to you can fufil my request

Thank you!

Hi there, anon! Sorry about the delay, I hope you like the result!

(Do not) drink me (a Moon Knight one shot)

You are barely able to lift your head the first time you enter the office. You are dizzy from the absence of color, of real vitality, and the glass table only makes the feeling of abandonment more intense.

A pen rattles against a pocket notebook, and you hear the rustle of sheets of paper being flipped through. Only then you're aware of a voice that seems to tug at you from the deep mists of your mind.

"...That's your name, isn't it? Do you remember how long you've been here?"

Your eyes instinctively move in search of the voice. It is quiet, leisurely, but steady, the voice of someone who is perfectly sane, someone who is not cloistered in his sinister mind. You then encounter the affable face of a man whose age you cannot estimate, though he is much older than you evidently, wearing glasses and a small, well-groomed mustache.

"That's much better," he comments, smiling at you. Your lips peel back for the first time in weeks for more than just eating and swallowing meds.

"Thirty-two."

"I beg your pardon?" he asks you politely.

"I've been in this hospital for thirty-two days" you whisper. You play with the fingers on your hands, and your eyes struggle to stay fixed on the man's face. You see him nod slowly.

"Thirty-two days" he repeats "You have a good memory. Do you remember then why are you here, (Y/N)?"

You look down at your hands again. The images running through your head are barely fragments, and many of them feel abnormal, as if you're looking at everything from the outside, a mere spectator.

The man nods, with great patience and gets your attention again.

"(Y/N), I understand that it is difficult for you to communicate with others, or maybe it happens that you don't want to talk, but doing so is something very important, it is the beginning for you to start healing, do you understand me? I know you have been called out a couple of times for refusing to leave the windows... Tell me, what do you like to see outside?"

You see everything, you think, dejectedly. You see the birds and the flowers, the grass growing and being mowed with clockwork regularity, you see the insects clinging to the panes as the Sun begins to set, and you see the distant stars, alone in the dark but free.

"I've got something" you say finally, holding a hand to the side of your head "Here."

"Oh, yes" the man nods, sympathetic "The implant, isn't it? How long ago you had it put in, do you remember?"

You nod again.

 "Eight hundred and seventy-six days."

"And how do you feel about it?"

This time you don't struggle to lift your head, you look into those eyes, blue and bright.

"I don't know" you confess, and there's a hint of sentiment in your voice. That seems to please him.

…

Time is measured by the Moon, it is something you learned since your childhood. Because the sun is only one, and it always turns the same way, the moon changes all the time. You calculate when you will see Dr. Harrow again, that is his name, and although outwardly you remain reserved and silent, inside you long madly to have another session.

Your long-awaited moment arrives on the thirty-sixth day of your confinement in the hospital. Dr. Harrow is already waiting for you, and the first thing he does when you are left alone is to hold out a small book to you.

"You told me you liked waterscapes, and I thought this might cheer you up a bit."

You can't resist glancing at the book, filled with photographs of rivers, lakes, and other freshwater sources, each one as original as the last. A faint smile appears on your face, the water makes you feel good, as you are led to the showers you suddenly feel alive. You hear the doctor laugh a little, and you look at him.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes without taking his eyes off you "It's just that you're so shy... I never imagined seeing you smile so quickly."

You duck your head again, stroking the spine of the book.

"I could swim" you comment almost without thinking "I wanted to be a water dancer or whatever you call it."

"Really? So what happened?"

Your brow furrows. The blue turns red in your memory, you hear a whisper, like waves breaking on the shore, and everything gets strange.

"I don't know."

Dr. Harrow nods, and rises from his chair. You're still trying to rescue your memory when he hands you a small plastic cup, filled with iced tea. It smells sweet, a mixture of fresh herbs and an intense blue color.

"When I'm having a hard time thinking" he tells you, leaning against the table right in front of you "I take some tea and let my mind relax."

You want him to keep talking to you, to look at you, you want to please him, so you take a sip of the tea. It's much more delicious than you imagine, and you take a couple of long gulps. You see out of the corner of your eye that Dr. Harrow is smiling.

"Tell me a little more" he asks "Why did you get the implant?"

You drink a little more tea each time you feel your tongue is about to get tangled. You tell him about your nightmares, about the 'man in the moon' who stalked you when you were a child, about your parents, about their divorce, about how your mother didn't want him to leave, about the blue that turned red.

"My father didn't want to see me" you say at last, when all that's left is the dregs of tea "He said it was my fault... But I wasn't in the room, I wasn't present, I was on the beach..."

The doctor takes your hands as he takes the cup from you, and his eyes examine you with a sweet expression, one you don't remember ever seeing on anyone.

"(Y/N), of course it wasn't your fault. We may never know what happened, but one thing is for sure, and that is that you are innocent."

"Really?" you don't ask just because, you ask sincerely, from the bottom of your soul. Your hands are still between Harrow's, and you feel him squeeze them affectionately.

"I know an innocent soul when I see one" he says at last.

…

Each session is better than the first, you talk to Arthur, who now allows you to call him by his first name, about everything he asks you. You tell him about the almost obsessive way you enjoyed the book he gave you, about how difficult your adolescence became, about the foster homes you had to live in, about the time you began to lose your memory, about love. The love you lost, the love you didn't think you knew or deserved.

"We all deserve love" he said, patting you on the knee "You think you don't deserve it because of things beyond your control, but, (Y/N), I haven't met in a long time someone more worthy of love than you."

You trust him, something in his eyes invites you to trust. You finish your tea and hand him the cup as usual, and his hands touch again, you notice in his gaze a silent but unmistakable question, and you stretch your body just enough. He takes you in his arms, and you sigh in relief as you feel the warmth of his being envelop you, and enjoy snuggling into his chest, absorbing every second with all your senses. One of his hands caresses your head, and the other pulls you tighter against him, and you can hear his heartbeat.

"I don't know what I would do without you" you murmur, bringing your mouth close to his ear. You feel him give a small gasp, and it evokes a smile to your face. Arthur takes you by the shoulders gently, and pulls you away just a little to look at you. Then, his hands go under your jaw, cupping your face, and you feel the tips of his thumbs tentatively caress your cheeks.

There is no reason to resist, and this time it is you who moves. The first kiss is short, fearful, you barely graze the corner of his lips, but just when you start to think you've overdone it, Arthur pulls you in and kisses you properly. You let him guide you, letting him explore your mouth as much as he pleases, and then he lays you back in your seat but, to your surprise, he doesn't let go, and goes back on the attack as soon as you are seated, so that you have to bend over a little because he is kneeling.

His hands go in search of your shoulders and arms, you hold onto him and tangle your fingers in his hair, you spread your knees apart to make it easier for him to hold onto you, and his lips leave yours only to go in search of more skin. You feel them running down your chin, sliding down to your neck, you sense the caress of his breath becoming more and more agitated and your eyes narrow, completely devoted to the sudden pleasure you are experiencing.

"Do you wish to leave?" he asks you suddenly, after kissing for a few seconds the small cleavage that reveals your hospital clothes "Do you wish to be free again?"

"I wish to be with you" you caress her face, hungry for more.

Arthur gets up, for a moment you think he has repented, but you see him taking his cane (how strange, you had seen that cane many other times, was it a new one? Because that one had two crocodile heads carved on the handle) before coming back to you. He unrolls one of his sleeves, and you notice something curious, a tattoo symbolizing a scale.

"Hold out your arms" he asks, and you obey him without question. Arthur places the staff between them, with the crocodile heads on your forearms, and as if it were a pendulum, it begins to move. You want to ask him what's wrong, but there's something in his face, in the silent, serious way he watches the swinging, that forces you to be quiet.

His eyes widen, but they are no longer watching the cane, but his arm. You do the same, but notice nothing special, however, he seems pleased, because he proceeds to look at you and his face lights up.

"I knew it" he whispers with ill-contained enthusiasm "This is the face of a good person" and you feel him caress your cheek sweetly "Tell me, (Y/N), do you really want to be together with me?"

"Yes, of course I do" you gasp. Arthur finally takes the cane from your arms, and smiles at you again as always.

"Then so be it. You'll get out of here and we'll be together, my little jewel."

You throw yourself into his arms, and he holds you between them, relieved. Freedom and life, those dreams you longed to achieve, now greet you in the form of one for whom your heart is willing to do anything, and even now, when promises are just that, you close your eyes and swear that you will never leave the side of your beloved Arthur Harrow.

[veinereastath]

considering you make a lot of Harrow content (and bless you for it), do you have any take on what his past could've been? like, who he was, how he got into khonshu's service etc?

Ooooh, boy. This is something that's been bothering me since the show was around episode 3 and... You know what, it's hard, but I will try to put my chaotic thoughts into words.

Beware, long post, because I got carried away and broke Harrow's persona into little bits to analyze what I can.

Alright, alert, this is strong speculation / headcanoning.

* * *

1. There is very little information on Harrow, because those that we can be absolutely sure about are just those:

• he's American (though, funny enough, that's what wiki page says, it's not stated black on white in the show; but I guess it makes sense, so let's accept it as 100% solid fact),

• he was a former avatar of Khonshu and wielder of the Moon Knight title, • he's vegan,

• he speaks Ancient Egyptian, Coptic, and Arabic and knows a bit of Mandarin, but that last one isn't too important,

• he knows some big chunks of history, probably (I'm basing this suggestion on the things and people he mentioned to Steven in episode 1),

• if we accept a loose idea that Harrow is around the same age that Ethan Hawke is, we have early-fifties friendly neighbourhood cult leader.

Aaaand that's it. Bit disappointing, especially since this is the time where someone thirsty for more knowledge would get their hands on the comics and learn more, but... Being a Harrow stan has a big problem, and that is - Arthur Harrow in the show is a totally new, mostly improvised character that barely has anything to do with his comics counterpart (honestly, it came out way better, but still, that means we barely have any outside knowledge).

Fun fact if you haven't watched Assembled: The Making of Moon Knight - the very first idea/draft for Harrow was, according to the producers, Harrow that is some kind of shady billionaire instead of what we got in the end. Also came out way better, I think.

* * * 2. I have all Harrow scenes, even the few-second ones (him standing menacingly in the bus from episode 1, woah), and at this point I've probably memorized all of his dialogue lines, but you know what... Damn, it still barely gives any idea for what he might've been up to in the past. However, if someone came to my room, put a pistol to my head and told me to write few ideas about his possible occupation pre-Khonshu I might have, I would pick these: • psychologist / psychiatrist: let's be honest, Harrow is very good at manipulating people, effectively using his words, body language and touch, and while it's something that you can learn without any sort of psychological degree, it would just fit pretty nicely. It would also tie with how he's portrayed in Marc's & Co mind palace. Notice how his mind totally swapped the roles of everyone from the show - the "good" guys are patients, while Harrow's disciples are hospital's personnel (Bobbi Kennedy and Billy Fitzgerald, for example - these two you could probably recognize from episode 2, where they came to Steven's apartment, posing as/actually being police officers). And on the top of that cake you have The Big Bad himself as... Well, a doctor. A soft-spoken, patient individual. It's interesting how Marc's & Co mind took Harrow's good qualities and put him in charge of his... Huh, let's call it therapy. After episodes 4/5/6 and scenes from that asylum I could genuinely buy Arthur as former doctor, because he indeed does have qualities that would fit into this category - I only suppose it was later he's worldview got corrupted.

The only 'but' I have in this theory - something tells me that Khonshu wouldn't be overly interested in a doctor of any kind being his avatar, but I could be wrong. Still, it irks me a bit. Not very Khonshu-style.

• historian: I won't lie, it's a very loose idea, but hell, who knows. Not much to say about this one, mostly just throwing it in your face for you to think about if you wish. It might be just me looking too deply into just one sentence from museum scene in episode 1, but it's still something to think about. Even if Harrow wasn't a full-time historian, he definitely knows a thing or two, though it could be because of his life experience. Let's be honest, people in their 50ties know something about the world.

• okay, bare with me on this, but! mercenary: listen, I know that Harrow doesn't look too much like a soldier material (though he clearly kicks ass of 2, well, actually, 3 people at once in Episode 6, because Steven & Marc are a package deal), but it would fit nicely with Khonshu's interest in avatars that both can and are mentally ready to get their hands bloody. It would also make an amusing connection to Marc himself, and if we really wanna speculate hard, we could try to somehow connect the Bushman-Marc-Layla's father dilemma with Harrow himself. I just find it curious that the murder of archeologists took place nearby Khonshu's temple, of all places.

Also, if Harrow truly were a mercenary, it would also fit the way he at once point decided that serving justice after the fact is way too late - because someone in this profession sees death on a nearly daily basis, meets people of questionable backgrounds, so that would be a nice beginning for him to just go mad with society, and at some point, also hate himself, in a way (throwback to his confession in the end of episode 3, where he says to Khonshu's ushabti that he enjoyed inflicting pain).

All of it also makes me think about the way he basically growled 'mercenary' towards Steven during their first meeting in the Alps in episode 1. Because it either suggests some kind of hidden contempt towards this occupation because Harrow knows first-hand how disgusting it is, or it also could totally destroy this theory because he actually meant it in a truly derogatory way without actually having first-hand experience in this field of work. As I said in the beginning, it's all a messy speculation, do with that what you will.

* * *

3. The other things I was wondering about is his general status of wealth in the past. Somehow I can't imagine him as a very wealthy person. Either he was just making a simple living at some point (that, however, would clash with the mercenary theory, since this work has a potential for getting a lot of money), or he was, maybe, at some point, totally homeless. An interesting things worth noticing that he said in episode 2 are those:

• "I'm curious, do you think that Khonshu chose you as his avatar because your mind would be so easy to break, or because it was broken already?"

and:

• "I know that being on the right side of things is important to you. Khonshu always tries to ensnare those with a strong moral conscience."

^ also, I find it funny that right after he says that, Khonshu does his typical temper-tantrum shenanigans, knocks over some food and says "You have no conscience." I know that Harrow couldn't hear him at this point, but I find it more probable that Khonshu actually meant it as an offense towards Harrow. I genuinely doubt it was towards Marc/Steven. Steven especially, he's too pure, and he was in control of the body at the time.

Now, as everything else that Harrow says, those sentences as well must be taken with a grain of sand salt, because he knows that Steven is totally lost at what's going on, so Arthur tries to take advantage of it and manipulate him into getting the scarab's location. However, if we accept what he says as truth - and I'm willing to do so in case of these specific lines of dialogue, especially since I believe that Harrow is not truly a liar, but more likely he lies by omission.

Now, the point I'm trying to make is this - we actually know Khonshu has a weak spot for people with broken minds, for example he got Marc into his service when he was truly at his worst, with a gun pressed to his head. I can believe that he might've gotten Harrow in a similar way - either when he had no home, no money and no perspectives and was close to ending himself, or, if we accept the possible mercenary lifepath, he could've broke out of this line of work and found himself tormented with, perhaps, some sort of PTSD and crushing guilt + disgust because of the society as whole. This would make him a person with a broken mind, or one that is on the verge of breaking and just needs a soft push - and surprise, wild Khonshu emerges.

Another important, in my opinion, line of dialogue is this one, from 'Dr. Harrow' in the asylum, by the end of episode 4 (for those who don't remember, he says it to Marc as he's during a sort of panic attack and tries to run away):

"Truly, I understand how you're feeling. I too have suffered from mental illness, breaks in psychic awareness, manic episodes, followed by depression."

Okay. This is, once again, a dangerous territory of 'how much of actual Harrow is in Dr Harrow', because we don't know that, we don't know how much of this Harrow is actually Marc & Co projecting. But if we take it as another hint towards the actual Harrow and his past, we are getting a nice little clue: he indeed was on the verge of breaking, or even totally broken at some point. And once again, we can speculate that either he was a psychologist/psychiatrist that just got overwhelmed with the cons of this line of work (and believe me, it is very tiring, and psychologists also have their own psychologists and so on, it goes in circles basically) or he was a mercenary that suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

* * *

4. Last but not least - at what point did Harrow got invested into Egyptian mythology in general, if ever? Because we know that Marc was probably quite dim in this area (for example, he doesn't know who Khonshu when they meet, he doesn't know Hathor after years of servitude, and Hathor is one of the main characters of the Egyptian pantheon!), and yet Khonshu was interested enough to pick him up, revealing himself to someone who had nearly no knowledge about Egyptian gods at all. So, there are two possibilities:

a) Harrow was also taken in a similar way, not interested in the history of ancient Egypt whatsoever until Khonshu picked him up as his Moon Knight,

b) Harrow had either a general idea, or, even better, already was quite deep into the ideas of Egyptian gods. Hell, considering how hell-bent he is on the idea of justice, even if twisted, it is possible that he himself turned to Khonshu during his breaking point in life because he wanted to, and he was the one who searched for some sort of contact, if he was devoted enough to somehow believe in these gods' existence.

After mixing it up, connecting the dots here and there, there are two main (!!!) headcanon (!!!) backgrounds for Harrow I can come up with.

a) former psychologist/psychiatrist who got overwhelmed with the mental ilnesses of his own patients, quite possibly those who suffered some sorts of trauma from abuse/general injustice, and at some point lost control over himself; he delves deep into depression, and being already somehow interested in the idea of egyptian justice, at some point he gets maniacal enough to genuinely try and contact Khonshu, maybe in the midst of one of his panic attacks or those breaks in psychic awareness he mentions in episode 5. Khonshu sees a pretty nice catch and a mind broken enough to easily get twisted into a well-fit avatar, and so Harrow begins his bloody rampage in his name.

b) former mercenary who, during his escapades, saw first-hand a lot of violence, maybe even got captured and tortured at some point (!), suffering some sort of PTSD. He barely has any grip around the idea of egyptian mythology, but Khonshu appears and possibly gets him out of an unescapable situation (maybe from captivity), thus making Harrow continue on pretty much the same warpath, but now getting his hands bloody in a cause that at least seems better than just killing for money, therefore giving Harrow an illusion of setting himself straight. Also, being a mercenary gives a nice chance to learn Arabic.

* * *

5. Another thing worth thinking about is at what point exactly did Harrow turn his back on Khonshu and started being interested in what Ammit's views were. In this case, I barely can get anything solid from the show itself, so once again it's a speculation playground. I was thinking that perhaps he was a witness to someone preparing to abuse someone, making plans, and yet he wasn't allowed to act beforehand because Khonshu makes a point of waiting to the point where there is no turning back and evil has already been done. That sounds like something that might've make Harrow either start to strongly question his loyalty, or immediately break the deal and turn to Ammit, either momentarily, because he might've already been intrigued by the idea of her during his service (though I doubt it - if Khonshu was in his mind, it might've been risky), or found out about her during his separation from Khonshu, seeking a new way to regain some sort of sense in his life. Perhaps once again he gor thrown into the pit of despair and self-hatred, his mind broken both by past trauma and Khonshu himself being extremely abusive, desperately looking for answers, and boom, wild Ammit appears in some sort of old history books. This might've looked to Harrow like a final solution to the problem of world's injustice, and also serving justice to himself after genuinely enjoying inflicting pain on Khonshu's behalf (and perhaps even before then, if we accept the mercenary-lifepath possibility. Or he might've just been a psycho-doctor, though Harrow doesn't give me psychopatic vibes, honestly).

... Alright, I'm done. Thank you for the ask, anon. :") Have a treat in these trying times:

[jstaplesreviewsmovies]

Moon Knight (2022) Ep. 3-4

Spoilers for Moon Knight

Over the past two weeks, I watched the next two episodes of Marvel Studios’ new miniseries Moon Knight, the episodes “The Friendly Type” and “The Tomb”. In these episodes, Oscar Isaac’s Marc Spector/Stephen Grant works with May Calamawy’s Layla El-Faouly in a race against Ethan Hawke’s Arthur Harrow to the tomb of Ammit, a harsh Egyptian god that wants to purge the world of those she deems unworthy of life.

These two episodes really get into the nitty-gritty of the story after setting up the characters in the first two episodes. It delves into the lore of the Egyptian deities a bit more, and we meet more of their avatars. It is revealed that Khonshu is more of an outcast among the other gods, and even ends up getting sealed away after using his powers to change the sky to assist Stephen and Layla in their quest. Marc and Grant suspect that a third identity exists in their body. We also learn more about the backstory of Layla, whose father was revealed to have been murdered by an associate of Marc Spector. All of the mysteries and plot points are all fairly well executed and engaging, as well as suitably trippy and weird. In the fourth episode, after discovering the tomb of Alexander the Great, Grant/Spector are shot by Harrow. Spector wakes up in some kind of asylum, where the people he’s been interacting with are revealed to be other people in the asylum. Harrow is a psychiatrist, and Layla is either another patient or an employee (not sure). Marc even has an action figure of Moon Knight, and Stephen Grant is just a character in a movie. However, Spector tries to escape and finds Grant in a sarcophagus (and passes another sarcophagus that may contain the previously mentioned third identity). It is heavily implied that everything could’ve been in Marc’s head, but the presence of Grant and other relics from their adventure in the asylum suggests otherwise. It was a mind-boggling yet incredible twist, which I think references a common mystery related to the Moon Knight comics, being that his powers and adventures may or may not even be real. 

Oscar Isaac continues to show his brilliant acting skills here. He does a great job making his two roles appear to be different people. We see him actively switch personalities several times, changing his face and posture to match. His two characters are also very enjoyable to watch bicker and interact. Isaac really is the star of the show, and does an amazing job. Layla gets some amazing moments in episode 4, and really shows off her skills as an actress. She deals with gunmen at the start by impressively igniting explosives in their truck with a flare. She also evades a gross mummy-like monster in a perilous cavern. Her interactions with Harrow and Spector in this episode are also really well done. Gaspard Ulliel’s Anton Mogart, while only getting a small amount of screen time before getting killed by Moon Knight, was still pretty good. Hawke and Abraham’s performances as Harrow and Khonshu are still great as well.

As I predicted, the action followed in greater amounts in the more story-based episodes. Episode 3 had an amazing sequence between Moon Knight and Mogart’s men, and it really showed off the healing capabilities and weapons of the armor. Spector was skewered by several spears and shot multiple times, but came out without a scratch. Layla got some great action sequences that were mentioned previously, and Spector got a badass, albeit brief moment where he took out a bunch of Harrow’s goons with an axe before getting shot. Overall, the action was great, and we even got some rightfully gruesome and even scary moments in episode 4. The previously mentioned mummy was dissecting a human body and likely tried to do the same to Layla. 

Another aspect which I previously predicted, was the unique love triangle between Marc and Stephen and Layla. Stephen and Layla are clearly quite compatible, and even kiss in episode 4, which justly pisses off Marc. It’s clear that he cares about her, but pushes her away to keep her safe. Layla says she doesn’t need protection, and that Marc alone shouldn’t make the call to push her away to keep her from Khonshu, but I understand Marc’s motivation. 

Overall, episodes 3 and 4 of Moon Knight were great, with an amazing blend of action, mystery, drama, horror, and general weirdness. I really look forward to seeing the last two episodes.

Episode 3 Score: 5/5

Episode 4 Score: 5/5

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NEW CHAPTER OF HARROWING LOVE - Arthur Harrow x Reader | Moon Knight Fandom | Innocent Reader x Villain | Asylum Patient Harrow | Older man/Younger woman | Explicit Fic. Read all tags on AO3 [ Here ] Warning: This chapter contains explicit Non-con. If you don't like that, please skip this chapter. Consent between the Reader and Arthur Harrow slides from non-con to dub-con to consensual pretty quickly during the first few chapters. So if you're more into romance and fluff, you'll be good later on. Thank you. Summary of the new chapter: You're asked to help one of the nurses while visiting your Grandma in the hospital. She takes you somewhere unexpected. Excerpt:

“Will you help me willingly?” he then asked, voice smooth and gentle, his eyes finally upon you.

But the answer was already given when you tried to desperately pull away from the nurses’ grip. “Please,” you begged them while you struggled to get out of their hold. “You’re joking. This, I can’t,” there was no way to form a sentence. Surely, this wasn’t real.

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Harrowing Love - (Asylum Patient!) Arthur Harrow x (f) Reader - 18+

Summary: It started against your will, yet, you find yourself more and more falling in love with this man. Asylum Patient Harrow x Reader, Breeding Kink fic. There's a way for Ammit's powers to come out, but Harrow and his goddess will need you for that. [ Read it on AO3 Or continue below ]

Fandom: Moon Knight (TV) Pairing: Arthur Harrow x Reader Lots of warnings on AO3, but to name a few: 18+, explicit material, will contain smut, breeding kink, noncon/dubcon/eventuallycon, age difference, older manxyounger female, Strangers to Lovers, and much more! Dedicated to @nicktremblaywayfu & Lotsa notes below the chapter.

*~* Intro *~*

“Jot it down, a stronger dose is needed for patient forty-seven, Arthur Harrow,” the nurse said, eying her younger colleague.

“He can’t keep his hands off our nurses. During the day he is actually quite docile and pleasant, but at night, a whole different person emerges. He keeps grabbing our nurses and getting quite handsy. Plus, he is incredibly strong when he has one of these psychoses. I think we need to double his dose and prevent him from harassing our colleagues. I have two of them who are refusing to work the night shift because of him.”

The younger nurse quietly scribbled down the new instructions and bit her lip. Her heart thumped in her chest, loudly, for both her former leader and her Goddess Ammit.

~* ~

“And?” the young nurse asked her taller friend, also dressed in a nurse’s outfit. They stood in the faint amber glow of the night light, safely away from Arthur Harrow’s chamber. Faint roaring faded until the drugs had made the man fall into a dreamless sleep.

“You were right,” the taller nurse replied. She pressed a hand to her chest to calm her own beating heart. “It is a good thing you called for me. Ammit is alive in him. Whenever he roars at night it is because she tries to come out,” here she paused, and both listened if they heard footsteps, but no one approached. The hallway remained quiet. “She reached out for me, mad with a desire to be free. Said that in order to be free, she needs Arthur to – Oh, I can hardly say it, but there is no kinder way to translate it - she literally said breed. It must be due to her crocodile nature. Surely it wasn’t intended to sound this harsh but yes. She says Arthur needs to breed. Then she tried to reach out for me, but I sidestepped her.”

The smaller nurse frowned, lost in thought. “You mean, our leader has to procreate?”

“A child,” the taller one said again. “She asked for a child produced by Arthur to unleash part of her powers within.”

“Did she say how this is to be done?” The other nurse asked again, worried. “Can it be done with anyone?”

“I can understand ancient Egyptian, but I do not know how to answer in it,” the taller nurse said. She paused and then smiled down at her friend. “But I do think by her hiss that I was not suitable. I would have let them if they had wanted me,” the nurse blushed now. Her smaller friend did the same, being of a similar state of mind. Who did not want to be the lucky chosen one to bear the famous Arthur Harrow’s child?  Especially those of his followers who had seen his power and awaited Ammit’s paradise with bated breath – none would refuse.

“We shall have to see who is suited then,” the smaller one replied. “Will you stick around to help me, Monique?”

Monique nodded with a knowing smile. “I could use the extra hours,” she said, chuckling. “Besides, I have missed our friendship. I’ll gladly stick around.” She hesitated. “So, what do you say? You’ll be up next?”

~ * ~  ONE ~ * ~

Arthur Harrow had seen you arrive from his spot behind the patio windows. It was a spot the nurses had put his wheelchair so he could enjoy the greenery outside of the hospital. He was stuck in the psychiatric ward part of it, but from this point, he had a view over the entrance that lead to the hospital part. The normal hospital was attached to the psychiatric ward via two heavily guarded doors and a hallway. They had made it deliberately difficult for the psychiatric patients to get into the hospital area because some of the patients would try and escape via that route, acting as if they were normal. Arthur wasn’t one of them though. He was content with just sitting and enjoying the little things in life. Not that the state he was in allowed for much more, with the heavy dose of medicine given to him.

But his content didn’t mean he had given up on his purpose. Ammit was still alive through him and within him, and at the beginning of his stay here he had brokered a deal with her that he would let her do whatever was necessary to get out, so long as she would spare him until she was free again. He was her vessel, nothing more. Valuable to her, because she inhabited his body, but powerless compared to how he was before.

She seemed to have accepted his offer and treated him as her avatar and servant still. She would leave him to his peace during the days and only emerge during the nights.

It wasn’t until one of the new nurses came to inform him of Ammit’s words that he understood the goddess had found a way to unleash her powers once more. It was a tricky, risky little plan, as patients were not allowed to become intimate with guests or other patients. But he understood that if it had to be done, it had to be done.

The task of producing a child now rested upon his shoulders. But Ammit and Arthur both held reservations. Arthur hadn’t been intimate with others for a long time. Not since he had joined Ammit on her quest and not since he tried to do penance for mistakes made earlier in his life. It didn’t help that he had become sort of numb and insensitive when it came to feelings such as arousal. Having known pain for most of his life, and now growing older and not feeling sex to be a necessary thing, Arthur had started to take delight in the fact that he felt no need to be intimate with lovers any longer. Asexual, one might even say. If the need for release became too high, and it seldomly was, he could always use his hand. But he found no pleasure in the act itself.

So to hear he had to perform intercourse to please his goddess was greatly unsettling to him.

He shared his reluctance with Ammit, who was uncomfortable in the body of the man and found herself more attracted to the male humans. On top of that came the many requirements she held for the one to carry Arthur’s child. A list, Arthur faintly was aware, which was long and demanding. It held things about looks, purity, innocence, fertility, and even factors that would ensure the child would be exactly as Ammit had pictured it to be.

A list full of needs that would never be met.

Arthur Harrow took delight in that knowledge, for it meant that he would not be forced easily by his goddess to lay with a woman he had never met before.

The nurses were another point of bother. Arthur had become aware that slowly, one by one, the asylum staff was being replaced by Ammit’s followers. A good thing concerning his safety, but a troublesome development for his privacy. The nurses would often appear at night to offer themselves to him as a potential mate. But when he had refused them all, they would bring in potential mates. Both young and mature women had been paraded in front of him, while he had been paralyzed. They had placed their hands on him and had tried to seduce him. But none had achieved the desired effect. Ammit had cursed Arthur silently for remaining unaffected and limp, but she had praised him afterward for respecting her list. It seemed neither of them had been tempted by the partners offered to them.

Which brought everything back to you. Arthur caught sight of you only a few weeks ago. He watched how you followed your mother into the hospital area, and how you left about an hour or two later. Intrigued by your looks and the way you moved, he asked the nurses to put him in this same spot again the very next day. And it had been like this for a while until he had discerned the pattern.

You came here each week on a Friday afternoon, visiting along with your mother who drove the two of you. You would arrive around two, then visit your elderly grandmother to play games with her in the hospital cafeteria and chat. After about an hour or two, the two of you would leave with a wave and a smile. Grandma would be in the hallway, in a wheelchair of her own, waving back at you while you smiled brightly.

That smile. It did things to him.

For the first time in years, Arthur felt himself stir. Aroused to a point where he felt his hands would no longer do. It could never be enough.

He longed for you ever since the first time he clapped eyes on you. It was a feeling he had tried to subdue, but it was no use. Ammit had felt it – and how could she not when she came to the surface in his body to find him fisting his own stiff cock? Ammit had taken delight in it.

Even now she watched along with him through his eyes and growled gently inside his head, the sound of approval.

You ticked all the boxes on Ammit’s list. Ammit, who despite having been sealed in Arthur’s body, still held some of her powers and instincts. Unlike Arthur, she didn’t need to hold your hands to read your scales. She could sense things like this. As if being trapped in his body had made her more like a crocodile in the water, eyes and nostrils still above, observing everything while being unobserved herself. Only those who knew she was there would be able to spot her. And she had sensed you were fertile and ready to become a mom.

Young enough, she crooned inside of Arthur’s mind, for more than one hatchling. Pretty enough, she continued, for you to enjoy. Innocent enough, she concluded, for her scales to tip to the light.

Arthur’s eyes darkened when he saw you enter the hospital, towing after your mother. He signaled with his hand, alerting the tall and slender nurse that belonged to his community. She came to stand next to him, placed her hands on the edges of his wheelchair, near his shoulders, and leaned down. She squinted her eyes, observing you and your mother as you entered the hallway.

“That girl,” Arthur murmured, voice weak by the number of drugs pumped through his system. Inside of him, Ammit crooned again. Make her swell, she thought, pump her full of your cum and see her turn round with your child. Let me pass my powers onto your hatchling.

“That girl?” the nurse asked, she gestured with her head.

Arthur merely nodded. There were no others he could have meant. Your mother would have been that woman. The nurse in the hallway would have been that nurse. And it was clear he wasn’t indicating any of the three elder men who sat in the hall, waiting for a taxi to come to pick them up.

The nurse slowly stood up again and nodded thoughtfully. “Let me bring you to your room so you can prepare.”

No questions asked, no doubts spoken. Arthur was glad she was like that, a follower who did not doubt the ways of Ammit. He felt how the chair dipped back slightly, then started to glide over the floor. Contently, he tapped his fingers against the armrests of the chair, humming a soft tune while the nurse wheeled him back to his room.

Inside of him, Ammit chortled happily. ~ * ~ End of Chapter ~* ~

AN: Hello dear readers, here's another shameless self-indulgent Patient Harrow x Reader insert I promised to write for someone. It starts out quite dark with the non-con start, but rapidly transforms into a more romantic tale with the angst slowly bleeding out of it and the fluff coming into play. I enjoy writing the more daily and ordinary activities for this. But there'll be lots of smut as well. Expected length: *Story length, no dirty thoughts tusk * I have not finished it yet, and knowing me, I am very curious to find out if I ever will. When I do, I will update the expected chapters for this fic in the chapter count, so keep an eye on that. Note: Despite the series being set in America, the situations and locations in this fic are based on my experiences in the local hospitals and on traditions in my area. You will see a lot of European influence. Requests: Thank you for sending in requests for scenes in this fic. I have tried to add as many of the requested situations as possible. I'll make a banner for this tale once I have decided about the title. Also, if people have Arthur Harrow stock material they wish to share, send it to me :3

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If you want a bit of drama and breeding angst, chapter 5 of Harrowing Love is finally up.

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ARTHUR HARROW X FTM READER - PART 2 (Doctor Harrow)

TWO: Summary: You meet Doctor Harrow, he introduces some new kinks to you. Continuation of: You’re part of Arthur Harrow’s community, but hold a special place. [ Part 1 here ] Arthur Harrow (Cult Leader) x FTM Reader. Rating: Explicit (Contains smut, Warning for dub-con, One-sided Breeding Kink from Harrow, talk about getting Reader pregnant, Praise kink, use of good boy, reader curses a few times (mostly damn) ). Words: 5785 Thanks to the wonderful supporter who commissioned this fic ♡

For: @apriltearsbringmayfears Tags: Older man x younger (ftm) reader, dub-con and consensual intimacy, praise kink, touching, kissing, explicit sexual content, bit of powerplay, you x the villainous cult leader, Doctor Harrow is messing about.

Your head was spinning, the world a blur of sterile white. White walls, white floor, even you were swallowed by the stark whiteness of the fabric encasing your body. An asylum patient's garb clung to you, the realization cold and sharp in your mind. You were a patient, trapped in a room that reeks of disinfectant and stripped-down sanity. The air was still, almost suffocating in its cleanliness.

"Good morning," came a calm, composed voice from across the room. You turned your head slowly, fighting the dizziness. There he was. Doctor Arthur Harrow, his hair shorter, slicked back in a mockery of casual sophistication. He sat behind a desk made of glass, aviator glasses perched on his nose. A small mustache curled above his lip, giving him an air of quiet authority.

Your eyes were instantly drawn to the cane that rested against the desk. His cane. But the crocodile heads were nowhere in sight. Instead, you saw a modern black cane with a golden accent and a white handle. No crocodile head. Just plain, clinical efficiency.

This wasn’t your Arthur.

He tapped a white, expensive-looking pen against the sides of his glasses and – to your shock- you noticed a golden gleaming ring on his ring finger. He seemed to trace your gaze and hummed, but said nothing.

Modern clothes clung to his frame, a crisp departure from the red cotton he usually favored. White books and little white trinkets adorned the colorless cabinets against the walls. It made you realize this could not be a real place. No one kept everything in white. Even the hearth, the tables, the chairs, everything lacked color except for a painting on the wall.

But the books. Their covers were all blank.

You knew where this place was. And that you weren’t the first to visit it.

"Doctor..." you whispered, the title tasting foreign on your tongue. You’d wanted to ask so many questions, but your throat felt dry. Memories swirled in the fog of your mind - fragments of a different life, a different Harrow.

"Yes, it's me," he said, smile faint but present. His eyes, hidden behind those reflective lenses, seemed to pierce through you. "I believe I know what your problem is."

You shivered, folding your arms tightly around yourself as if that could keep out the chill seeping into your bones. The room smelled of antiseptic and something else. Something metallic, almost coppery. Blood? No. Just your imagination.

"What problem?" you managed to ask, though the words felt insignificant. There wasn’t anything wrong with you. Not anything you weren’t aware of. "Why am I here?”

"Calm down," he replied, voice soothing but firm. "We're going to try something new. Something that could help you." The confidence in his tone was unshakeable, absolute.

Your heart could be heard pounding in your ears, chest heaving more rapidly now. What did he think was wrong with you? Arthur had always assured you that you were perfect to him. Surely, this mirror-version of him was lying – a fraud. Perhaps not so much a dream as a nightmare.

"Help me?" you scoffed, disbelief mingling with fear. "What are you talking about?"

"A new kind of therapy,” he said, leaning forward, his gaze never leaving you. That familiar smile tugged the corners of his lips. A smile you recognized from your Arthur. Oh, how you recognized that look. Kind, yet mischievous. He already had his mind set on something. Whatever it was, you weren’t going to change his thoughts.  

“A new treatment,” you echoed hollowly, mind racing.

"One that requires your complete trust and cooperation." The confidence in his voice was unwavering, a rock amidst the storm of your confusion.

You stared at him, your heart pounding a chaotic rhythm against your ribs. He seemed so sure, so calm. The sterile scent of antiseptic mingled with the faint hum of fluorescent lights above.

“Why?”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. Questions clawed at your mind. What kind of therapy? Why you? And why did this all feel so disturbingly familiar?

"Trust me," he said, his voice low and hypnotic.

You crossed your arms over your chest, the thin fabric of the white patient outfit doing little to shield you from the cold.

"Why should I agree to this therapy?" Your voice came out sharper than you intended, slicing through the sterile air.

Doctor Arthur Harrow leaned back in his chair, unperturbed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Because you need it," he said simply, his tone smooth and confident. "Everything will become clear. You'll see."

"Need it?" You scoffed, feeling a surge of defiance. "Why should I trust you?"

"Trust is earned," he replied, his eyes narrowing slightly behind those aviator glasses. "We’ve already made such progress, haven’t we? I remember you’ve already put all your trust in me…”

And that caused a pang deep inside your chest because, with a start, you realized he was right. You’d come to trust your Arthur blindly. Fully. Your love for him has become irrevocably passionate and wild. A treasure you did not want to lose or abandon.

Trust Arthur? You already did with your whole heart.

But this? This man? He was not your Arthur. Of that you were sure. And defiantly you gazed at him, your own lips twisting in disdain. How dare someone, or some higher power, simulate the man of your desires?

"Faith," you muttered, tasting the word like poison. "My faith is reserved for one alone."

"And that’s a good thing," he said, leaning forward again, his gaze intense. "It is going to make my job so much easier.”

His words sent shivers down your spine, his voice full of dark promises that had you squeezing your thighs together and your cock throbbing to life. You silently cursed for getting aroused by this illusion of the man you loved.

"What job?” you asked, shaking your head and willing your erection to go down. Not that you were successful…"You keep saying these words, but they mean nothing."

"Words are powerful," he responded, his voice a gentle caress. "They can heal, or they can destroy. It's all in how you use them."

"You're not answering my question," you snapped, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Why me? Why now?"

"Why not you?" His answer was infuriatingly cryptic, his calm demeanor only adding to your agitation. "Aren’t the favorite disciple?”

There it was. Your eyes flew wide. A confession that made him sound more like the man you knew. Was he the same as your Arthur after all?

“And so you chose me for this new… therapy of yours?’

“Sometimes, the universe chooses us for reasons we can't understand," he continued, voice husky and low. Entranced, you watched his finger trace an imaginary circle on a blank paper on the glass table in front of him. The golden wedding band gleamed in the light.

Was it to symbolize his faithfulness to Ammit? Or to someone else?

To you?

Why were you hopeful?

"That's not an answer," you bit back, your pulse quickening.

"Maybe not the one you want," he conceded, his smile widening. "But it's the one you need."

"Need," you echoed, feeling the word coil around your mind like a snake. "What do you think I need?"

"To see the truth," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "To understand your own need, I will have to show you.”

While your mind was still racing  - running wouldn’t be of any help as there was no place to go – you heard the clicking of his heels as he rose from his chair and made his way around the desk.

Doctor Harrow came to stand behind you, his presence looming. You felt the warmth first, a heavy presence that crept over your shoulder. The air in the asylum office felt thick, almost suffocating. His hand had found your shoulder, firm but gentle. You tried to turn, to look at his hand, to see where he touched you, but the grip he had on you tightened. His fingers, strong and sure, pressed gently into your flesh through the thin fabric.

A silent warning.

"Shh," he whispered, voice low and soothing. It was a command wrapped in velvet.

You swallowed hard, nerves jittery. "What if I don't agree to the new therapy?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper. You knew going against his will was going to be a challenge.

Harrow's breath warmed the back of your neck. "You'll give in...eventually," he said, each word deliberate, measured. A strange sensation crawled up your spine, settling deep in your gut. His hand squeezed your shoulder, the pressure both reassuring and terrifying.

"Why are you so sure?" you managed to ask, heart pounding in your chest.

"Because," he murmured softly, his grip tightening just enough to make you wince, "I know how your mind works. I cracked the code and found the combination."

Harrow's hand slid from your shoulder, trailing down your spine. His touch was electric, igniting nerves you didn't know existed. You stiffened, feeling every inch of his presence behind you.

"Doctor, what are you doing?" Your voice quivered, barely audible.

"I’ve started your therapy," Harrow replied, his tone maddeningly calm. "This is part of it."

You shook your head, a weak attempt to muster defiance. "I didn’t agree to…"

"Shh," he interrupted, his fingers tracing the curve of your back, then moving around to your chest. "Trust me."

Harrow’s hand was under your clothes before you could react. His fingers traced a path of fire across your skin, each touch igniting something primal within you. Your breath hitched as he found the sensitive spot just below your navel, his thumb circling it with deliberate slowness.

"Doctor..." you gasped, but he silenced you with a finger to your lips. The gesture felt intimate, almost reverent, and yet there was an undeniable dominance in his eyes.

"Shh," he whispered, his voice a soothing purr. "Trust me."

The way he loomed over you felt dominating – as if he was crowding in on you. And then, it happened.

Before you could protest further, Harrow’s lips crashed against yours. The kiss was demanding, consuming, as if he sought to claim every breath you had. His mustache scratched your face, adding to the overwhelming sensation. Your mind screamed confusion, but your body betrayed you, melting into his touch.

His tongue explored your mouth with a hungry urgency, each movement calculated and intense. You felt his hands gripping your face, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. Time seemed to warp, seconds stretched into eternity. The world outside the asylum office ceased to exist. It was only Harrow. His taste, his scent, his heat.

When he finally pulled away, you gasped for air, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. He looked at you, his blue eyes piercing through your defenses.

This was his therapy? You didn’t want to know how he treated his other patients.

You shivered as his hand moved lower, fingertips brushing against the waistband of your pants. He probably already spotted the bulge there, must have seen the signs of your arousal. Damn him. He took his time, savoring each second as if it were a ritual. The air thickened with anticipation, every heartbeat echoing like a drum in your ears.

Then, his fingers flicked over your bulge, the friction enough to make you gasp deliciously. With a swift motion, he gripped the back of your neck. Not painfully, but firmly, asserting control. The pressure sent a thrill down your spine, making you arch involuntarily into his touch. A smug smile slid on his face, the corners of his lips pulling up in that cocky smirk you loved to kiss away.

Harrow’s other hand tugged at your pants, pulling them down with practiced ease. The cool air kissed your exposed skin, sending a shiver through your body. Your cock popped out, kissed proudly by the cold office air.

"Doctor..." you breathed again, this time less a plea and more a surrender.

"Good boy," he murmured, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. His fingers stroked past your swollen cock, earning him another moan torn from your lips. “So eager,” he muttered. “So ready to please me.”

His hand moved up and down between your thighs, strong fingers teasing and exploring. You couldn’t help the moans that escaped your lips, your body responding eagerly to his touch. He knew exactly where to press, where to stroke, drawing out pleasure with expert precision.

"That's it," he coaxed, his voice velvet smooth. "Give your body what it wants. Let go."

Your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as waves of sensation crashed over you. Each touch, each caress, brought you closer to the edge. His name became a mantra on your lips, a prayer offered up to this godlike figure who held you in thrall.

"Arthur... please..."

“Doctor,” he firmly corrected you. “Doctor Harrow,” and then he leaned over you again to bring his lips close to your ear. The rasped whisper was enough to bring you closer to your climax. “Or call me daddy, because that is the real issue here. Isn’t it?”

His words confused you at first because you didn’t call your Arthur that. But Doctor Harrow’s fingers moved so expertly, he had you crawling in your seat, back arched, legs trembling, body wrecked with desire. And yet he kept you pinned down by your shoulders, used his own body weight to keep you trapped in your seat as he assaulted you with pleasure.

Just his hand and his voice. You thought it was unfair that he could do this to you.

"You're doing so well," he praised, his voice thick with approval. "But you can do even better.”

The rustling of clothes and the absence of pressure indicated that he had moved. But only when his fingers left your cock did you open your eyes and actually look. Doctor Harrow limped around you and came to stand before you, with a serious and solemn expression. And then he sank to his knees, pushing your legs aside before pressing a hand flatly against your tummy, applying pressure to keep you there.

“Let’s just take this a notch further.”

His lips closed around your small cock and you were reeling. You tried to wiggle under his touch while he sucked and nipped. Your hands found his – shorter – hair and dug into it, tugging at the strands for leverage and a silent plea to let go.

“Don’t,” a hoarse moan. “Stop,” the voice was your own. But damn, this felt good. As did the smirk that you felt against your skin while he kept on sucking and nipping, using his mouth to bring you to the edge, ready to tumble over.

One hard suck – the slurping noise that accompanied it was embarrassing but oh-so-good. With a choked cry, you came undone, your body wracked with intense pleasure. Every muscle tensed, then released, leaving you trembling in the aftermath.

And still, he nipped and sucked until the last of the tremors faded and pleasure became sensitivity, bordering on pain if he didn’t let go and would overstimulate you.

Luckily, he let go of your cock with a loud pop on his lips. One last lick past your cock made you shiver – too much, your mind provided – but then he was done, rising to a standing position in front of you. He withdrew his hand slowly, almost reluctantly, as if savoring the last vestiges of your climax. And when you looked up at him, he was staring down at you intently, yet pensively. As if he was lost in thought.

"Good boy," Doctor Harrow praised you, his tone laced with satisfaction.

You were still catching your breath, glancing up at him. “Is the therapy over now?’ You cheekily asked, not caring if he would think you a brat for the tone of your voice.

Doctor Harrow pursed his lips, the frown above his aviator glasses deepened. “I’m sorry?”

“I asked,” you repeated, this time a little more agitated. He had sucked you off. You were done now, weren’t you? You could leave, right? “Are we done now?’

A pregnant silence filled the air between you.

“My dear boy,” he finally said after what felt like too long. “Why would you assume such a thing.” The way he stood, leaning against his desk, so carefree, so comfortable. It made you want to rage. How could he be so calm and collected?

“This is only the beginning.” And without a warning, Harrow closed the gap between you. You tried to stand up and struggled against his grip as he reached for your neck again. Your pants were still down between your ankles, making it hard to walk away.

Harrow's grip tightened around your neck, his fingers digging into your skin. With a swift motion, he pushed you forward. The cold surface of the glass desk met your chest, sending a shiver through your body. The sound of rattling glass filled the room, mingling with your ragged breaths.

"Stay still," he commanded, his voice firm yet dripping with affection.

You heard the zipper but were too busy trying to wiggle out of his grasp. You barely had time to register the command before he positioned himself behind you. His hands roamed over your exposed skin, greedy and unapologetic. You felt the blunt pressure, then the agonizingly slow slide as he entered you. Your breath hitched, pleasure mixing with pain.

"Doctor..." you gasped, the word spilling from your lips like a prayer. Another deep thrust. Luckily, your walls were slick from your previous orgasm, providing him easy access and an easy slide.

"Good boy," Harrow murmured, his voice heavy with desire. You felt his hips press fully against your ass, knowing that he was completely inside – as far as your body would allow – and suppressed a little gasp. Damn, this man felt good. Even if he wasn’t the real deal. He surely felt real.

A hoarse rasp in your ear, a dark promise: "I’m going to cure you."

The desk beneath you creaked ominously with each thrust, the glass threatening to give way under the force of your combined weight. But the sensation of him inside you drowned out any fear. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins, pushing you further into blissful abandon.

"Do you feel that?" he growled, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you feel how deep I'm inside you?"

"Yes, Doctor Harrow... oh god, yes," you moaned, your fingers clawing at the edge of the desk for support.

"Imagine," he continued, his pace relentless, each thrust deep and hard, "me filling you up, making you pregnant. Wouldn't you love that, my sweet boy? To carry my child?"

The words sent a jolt of forbidden excitement through you. The thought of bearing his mark, of being claimed so completely, was intoxicating.

"Yes," you cried out, the confession torn from your soul. "I want it... I want you."

"That's right," he praised, each word punctuated by a powerful thrust. "You're mine. Only mine."

The rhythm grew frantic, bodies slick with sweat, moving in perfect, chaotic harmony. His hands kept you pinned, his strength a constant reminder of his control. The eroticism of his power, his dominance, fueled your desire, driving you closer to another release.

You liked him like this, always had when he was in control. But him taking you so deep, so passionately… was he truly working you toward your second orgasm of the day?

Your body started to tremble around him, your own voice growing hoarse with each gasp, and cry, and moan.

“More,” he commanded, another firm thrust deep inside. Another echo of wet noises as he pounded you like there was no tomorrow.

"Say it," he demanded, his voice rough and commanding. "Tell me who you belong to."

"You," you screamed, as loudly as your breaking voice allowed you. Your body was twitching and trembling with pleasure. Thank Ammit you had the desk to keep you up because your own legs surely wouldn’t. It felt good, the truth breaking free in desperate gasps. "I belong to you, Doctor Harrow."

A few more firm thrusts. You were nearly there.

And then he paused.

You cursed, teeth gnashing as you tried to move your hips and ass to get some more friction. The glass felt cold against your erect cock, stimulating you – but not enough. Why had he stopped?

You heard the heavy swallow, the way he cleared his throat, then felt how Doctor Harrow leaned over you, cloaking your body entirely with his own.

The hairs of his mustache tickled your ear.

"See?" he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. "I told you you'd enjoy the therapy."

Bastard.

You groaned loudly, moving your hips but groaning in disappointment when his hands kept you pinned down, unable to move up and down his shaft.

“Please,” you begged, voice hoarse. It was enough.

"Good boy," he echoed, his tone laced with triumph. "Let go again. For me."

He didn’t wait but started a fast pace, for which you were grateful. Each stroke was deep and hit that right spot inside that had your toes curled and your fingers grasping past the slick surface of the glass.

Your body obeyed, surrendering to the overwhelming tide of pleasure. Everything else faded away leaving only the raw, unfiltered connection between you and Harrow. Nothing else mattered.

You clamped down on his cock, earning the stuttering rasped groans in your ear that betrayed he was near as well. A few more deep thrusts and he followed. Warm, hot liquid poured deep inside while his hands held your hips pressed against the cold glass. Your body was throbbing, but so was his shaft as it emptied itself. You imagined the way his balls must be pulsing right now as they were drained dry completely by your deliciously tight cunt.

“Hmm, so greedy,” he murmured, as if he was reading your thoughts. He leaned a little backward, cock still locked inside you, so he could clap a hand firmly to the cheek of your ass.

You did a little yelp, your body scooting forward on the glass, and then tried to look at him from over your shoulder.

“Do you think it will take?” The doctor rasped, his blue eyes finding yours through the reflecting glasses. You felt the way his fingers pried your cheeks open, then slid lower until they pressed inside your cunt, joining his cock.

“You think you’re going to make me a daddy, sweetheart?”

He slowly retracted his cock and seemed to watch how slick seed came dripping from your hole. Holding his cock in his hand, he used his half-hard shaft to rub past your sensitive lips, pushing the semen back in with the tip.

You closed your eyes and allowed him to play with you, your body tired from a second climax and your breath still rapid and uneven.

You felt him push the head of his cock inside you, dipping in and out – almost experimentally – a few times. Then he retracted and the warmth of his body was gone.

"Up," Harrow commanded, his voice a rough whisper against your ear.

You barely had time to register the word before he pulled you to your feet. His hand remained firm around your neck, guiding you as he maneuvered behind you. The cold air hit your back, stark in contrast to the heat of his body. He turned you to face him, eyes blazing with an intensity that made your heart race.

"That's it," he murmured, as he held you close, his touch almost tender despite the intensity of what had just transpired.

Finally, he stepped back, leaving you feeling strangely empty without his presence. You noticed the limp when he walked. At least that hadn’t changed. But the half-hard cock you had expected to go limp was curling up proudly again, tipping against Harrow’s stomach as he limped to the other side of the desk. Wait? What?

You groaned, taking a few deep breaths while you watched him lowering himself into his chair with a grace that belied his years. He sat there, pants discarded, watching you with a calm, expectant gaze.

You stood there, catching your breath, the silence stretching out between you. What did he want from you?

"What are you waiting for?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sit on me." His tone was gentle but firm, laced with the promise of more to come. You knew that even if you had wanted to, you could not disobey him.

And a third time? Well, what was one more? Even if this wasn’t your Harrow, he surely was a good fuck. You wouldn’t look a gifted horse in the mouth.

With trembling legs and a racing heart, you moved closer, your skin still tingling from the last wave of pleasure. You discarded your pants fully, even taking the time to take off the rest of your asylum garb until you stood fully naked.

Harrow's eyes were on you, unwavering, his gaze a mix of command and invitation. His hands rested on the arms of the chair, fingers tapping lightly against the metal as if to a rhythm only he could hear.

"Come here," he urged softly, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine.

You straddled him, knees at either side of his waist. The warmth of his body pressed against yours was intoxicating. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, feeling him fill you once more. A squelching sound accompanied the movement, as combined slick from you and Doctor Harrow’s semen paved the way for his hard cock to slide deep inside. A gasp escaped your lips, the sensation almost overwhelming.

"That's it," he whispered, his hands finding your hips, guiding you. "Just like that."

And it was just like that. You preferred this position more, the way your cock rubbed past him, the friction, it was all so much better than the cool glass table had been.

You began to move, the rhythm slow at first, savoring every inch of him within you. He had grown hard again, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside your narrow cunt. Each rise and fall brought a fresh surge of heat, a deep ache of pleasure that built with every movement. His grip tightened on your hips, encouraging, guiding, coaxing you to go faster.

"Good boy," he praised, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You're perfect. Could only be better swollen with child."

The words spurred you on, driving you to quicken your pace. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, bound together in this intense dance. Sweat slicked your bodies, the sound of your mingled breaths filling the silence.  

"Arthur," you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. "I'm close."

"Then let go," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "Show me how much you need this."

The coil of pleasure wound tighter within you, threatening to snap. You rode him harder, faster, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. His hands roamed your back, caressing, encouraging, sending sparks of electricity through your veins.

"Come for me," he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

Your body obeyed, the release crashing over you like a tidal wave. You cried out, his name a prayer on your lips, your vision blurring as ecstasy consumed you. He followed soon after, his own release a powerful surge that left you both trembling.

"That's it, my love," he murmured, holding you close, his breath hot against your ear. “Let me stuff you nice and full. Think of all the cum. Make me a dad.”

He stroked your back gently, the touch tender and soothing. You melted into him, feeling safe, cherished. Even if he wasn’t your Arthur. Nothing else mattered.

“We have made such good progress, haven’t we?” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple.

“Progress?’ you asked, blearily. You felt as if your body could take no more, yet he started to gently thrust inside you again.

“One more time,” he said, but you were already shaking your head.

“No.”

“Come on, we have made such good progress,” he moved you up and down his shaft shallowly, but your pussy was oversensitive and each thrust felt like it was too much. You flinched, trying to push him away, but his hand found your cock and flicked against it. You recoiled, back arched, and let out a cry.

“Fuck, I can’t,” you gasped, still struggling in his grip. “It’s too much.”

But as Harrow gently pounded your sore cunt, the world around you seemed to crumble away until everything faded. Even the feeling of being fucked raw.

You sat up and instantly winced. Your body felt sore, pussy even sorer. As if you truly had climaxed three times.

You rubbed your head, eyes slowly getting used to the daylight that already filtered into the room. That was when you noticed him.

Arthur Harrow sat on the edge of your desk, his shoulder-length hair cascading around his face, worry etched into his features. The morning light streamed through the window, casting long shadows that danced eerily across the floor. You’d almost thought he wasn’t real, but then he moved.

"Good morning," Arthur said softly, his voice a soothing balm against your frayed nerves. He leaned forward, the creak of the desk cutting through the silence. "You missed breakfast so I came to have a look. See if you’re all right."

Your mouth felt dry as sandpaper, and you licked your lips, trying to find your voice. "I..."

"It’s all right," he interrupted gently, holding up a hand. "I brought you something." He gestured to a tray beside him, laden with fruit, toast, cheese, and a steaming cup.

The disorientation clawed at your mind, the lines between dream and reality blurring. You stared at the food, your stomach twisting in knots. "Why?"

"Because I care about you," he replied, his gaze unwavering. Those bright blue eyes bored into yours, filled with an earnest concern that made your heart ache.

"Was it... real?" you muttered, the words barely audible.

"Dreams can feel very real, can't they?" Arthur's lips curled into a small, knowing smile. He pushed the tray closer to you. "Eat. You'll feel better."

You slowly got out of bed, unperturbed about Arthur seeing you like this. He’d seen you in worse states.

You reached for the toast, your hands trembling. The memory of Doctor Harrow's touch still lingered on your skin, ghostly and persistent. You took a bite, the crunch loud in the otherwise quiet room.

"Was it another nightmare?" Arthur asked, concern etching lines across his face.

"Something like that," you admitted after swallowing, unable to meet his gaze. Instead, you focused on the tray of food, absently picking at the toast.

"Talk to me," Arthur prompted gently, his voice a soothing balm that eased some of the lingering tension within you. "What happened in the dream?"

“You were there,” you finally confessed, still confused about everything that had just happened.

"I was?" He asked, his voice low and steady. Arthur's blue eyes bore into you, steady and unwavering, as if trying to decipher the secrets hidden within your soul. Your heart pounded in your chest, the lingering effects of the dream making it difficult to distinguish between reality and fantasy.

You hesitated before speaking, the weight of the dream heavy on your tongue. "It was you," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "But not you. You were a doctor, in an asylum."

A flicker of surprise crossed Arthur's face, his brows knitting together as he processed your words. "A doctor, huh?" His voice was steady, but you could see the wheels turning behind those piercing blue eyes. "And what did this doctor do?"

You hesitated, a shiver running down your spine as you remembered the way Doctor Harrow's hands felt on you, the controlled strength in his grip. "He… he was...helping me, or at least, that's what he claimed." The words tumbled out in a rush, a confession burning your lips as you spoke. "But it didn't feel like help. It felt like control."

Arthur's hand tightened on your arm, a protective gesture that sent warmth flooding through you. "Did he touch you?”

“Oh yes,” you didn’t know why you confessed so easily, but once you looked up it was to see Arthur’s eyes darken menacingly. “Said it was this new therapy he wanted to try, Was supposed to help me with something, but it only ended with him telling me he wanted to see me carry his baby. It was really weird.”

You finally finished, taking your time to catch your breath and think. In the meanwhile, you studied him. Your Arthur.

"In the dream,” he began, eyes unfocused. “I was... obsessed with becoming a father."

He hesitated, gauging your reaction.

“You sure were. Or well, he sure was,” you clicked your tongue and picked up another piece of toast. Orgasming three times had made you hungry.

"Interesting," Arthur murmured, his expression inscrutable. "And how did that make you feel?"

"Confused," you admitted, mouth full, frowning. "I don't understand why he would tell me that."

"Perhaps there's a reason," Arthur suggested, leaning forward in his chair. "Dreams can be windows into our deepest desires and fears. Maybe this is something you need to explore further."

"Are you saying that I should try to get actual therapy?" You asked, skepticism lacing your words.

"Not quite," Arthur replied, his voice soft but firm. "Trust your instincts."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. The idea of delving deeper into Doctor Harrow's fixation unnerved you. And the way your Arthur reacted to your dream had left you puzzled. Did he know there was a dream version of him lingering around? Could he influence it? Hadn’t it just all been inside your head? Because you’d been pretty certain Ammit and the other Gods loved to use familiar faces and an asylum room to bring their messages across.

"I’m hungry now,” you said, reluctantly. "I just want to eat.”

"Good," Arthur smiled, his eyes warm and reassuring. "I will leave you be. But just remember, I'm here for you, no matter what."

"Thank you," you whispered, your throat tight with emotion.

You watched as Arthur stood and made his way to the door, the familiar crunch of glass beneath his feet a constant reminder of his devotion. His silhouette framed by the doorway, he paused and glanced back at you, his eyes filled with an emotion that you couldn't quite place. Then he was gone. ~ * ~

[jokeringcutio]

Masterlist

[Edit: MASTERLIST IN THIS POST!! New stories always appear at the top of their category. I know, it's messy, will rearrange it someday.]

GIF van valcazaara

The Black Phone (2022) Albert Shaw / The Grabber: Stories: *~* The Chance to make a Change (Grabber x Reader) When you end up in front of the Grabber’s house, you decide to take matters into your own hands and stop Albert Shaw from kidnapping and murdering these innocent boys like he does in the movie. You have good intentions. But will you succeed? (Rating Explicit, Lots of warnings and tags such as odler man/younger woman, age difference, size difference, rape/noncon, violence, dead dove: do not eat, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, daddy kink, major character death, etc) *~* The Gift (Grabber x Reader) Your curiosity got the better of you (Mature, though not overtly explicit, kidnapping, older man/younger woman). *~* A Gift for his Gift - Albert Shaw / The Grabber x Reader Insert [ WARNINGS ] (Explicit, Dub/noncon elements/can be seen as a continuation of 'the gift'). Drabble: *~* A warm spring day in the garden with your family (implied kidnapping) * ~* You're kidnapped and have insomnia (Smut), Explicit, Non-con warning. *~* You're kidnapped and have amnesia [ Part 1 ], Mature. [ Part 2 ] *~* You're his new neighbor and meet him when Samson enters your garden. Sweet, light drabble, bit of flirting, Rating: Teen. *~* The Grabber returns for you after you escaped him. Modern AU. Mature. Imagine: *~* Albert Shaw x (Teacher afab) Reader - Search Party

Crossovers: Black Phone & Joker

Drabbles:

The Magician - Reader and Arthur go to see a show, but the Magician is getting a bit too friendly. Rating: PG13, no real warnings except jealousy and possessive men.

Moon Knight (Series 2022) Arthur Harrow: Fics: *~* Harrowing Love - Rating Explicit. Asylum Patient Harrow has to make a child with reader so Ammit's powers can escape. Excuse for loads of smut. Starts darkish with noncon, quickly transcends into consensual, fluff and romance. Strangers to Lovers. *~* HIS - Dr. Harrow x (F) Reader - Rating Mature. (You suffer from Amnesia and have forgotten that Doctor Harrow is actually your husband. Or have you? Dark twist. Warnings: Amnesia, Allusions to Smut, Mature themes, dub-con,betrayal, Jake Lockley x Reader mentioned.) * ~~ Prompt Fill: Cleopatra and the Cult Leader (Rating Teen: Arthur Harrow x Reader (You dress up for a party like Cleopatra. Arthur Harrow’s there, and he’s intrigued.) *~* Prompt Fill: Arhur Harrow x Reader | Lockley's Brilliant Plan (They thought a little student like you wouldn’t raise suspicion. They were wrong. Explicit, Smut, dubcon/noncon/reader is a spy for Lockley). Imagines: *~* Arthur Harrow x Amnesic Reader waking up (Rating T, Sweet tale ) *~* Imagine Prompt: Arthur Harrow visits his mother (Rating: T? Reader insert, mentioning of relationship, pregnancy, and other fam related things). *~* I'm the only one (Harrow x another fem. Harrow x Reader (unrequited?) Arthur Harrow wants something from you that he usually gets from another follower. You had claimed you would do anything to save his life, but you would not do that. *~* Happy Valentine's Day (Reader receives a rose. General rating, gender neutral reader) Includes edited image. *~* Imagine prompt: Arthur Harrow x Reader | Kaiserschmarrn (You visit Austria with your parents, M? Not explicit, but with a dark twist) *~*Imagine Prompt: Arthur Harrow x Reader (Reader resurrects Ammit scenario) Drabbles: *~* Arthur Harrow x Driver! Reader : Driver confesses she is in love with him. Rating: Teen, sweet drabble. *~* Arthur Harrow x Reader & Daughter: Seashells on the beach: Rating:General, Family/Fluff/Sweet Drabble *~* Arthur Harrow X Assassin Reader : Lentil Soup : Dark but decent version, Rating: Teen. *~* Arthur Harrow x Amnesic (Fem) Reader (His Wife) Sweet version *~* Arthur Harrow visits his mother (Reader insert) HeadCanons: *~*HC: Arthur Harrow & His Mom Headcannon. *~* Arthur Harrow giving Reader Pet Names

GIF van mae-martin

Enola Holmes(2020): *~*Pine Cone Child : Enola/Sherlock Holmes, Enola/Linthorn (Mature, Read Warnings on AO3, currently on hold ) Pine Cone Child is a mature rated fanfic, mostly about Enola and her brother Sherlock pretending to be a married couple (his suggestion) to save Enola’s reputation and raise her child together. With angst, mature themes (check the warnings and the tags) light-hearted banter and lots of misunderstandings.

GIF van vanveronicango

Joker (2019) Arthur Fleck/Joker: Stories: *~*The Man Who Claimed To Be Yours - JokeringCutio (Breakingthestandards) - Joker (2019) [Archive of Our Own] (Arthur Fleck x Reader : You are Sophie’s hired babysitter, taking care of Gigi the best you can, when suddenly one day, Sophie’s neighbour is standing in the apartment. Explicit! Dark Themes. See all Warnings on AO3!) *~*The Princess and the Clown - JokeringCutio (Breakingthestandards) - Joker (2019) [Archive of Our Own] → You are a princess at a charity and Arthur is a clown. When you say something kind to him, he becomes obsessed with you. [ Modern Day AU. Mature. *~* No Family Man [ Chapter 1 |  Chapter 2]  On AO3 - Finished. Summary: You met Arthur when you were just in high school, but by the time you got into university, you knew you’d fallen for him. But then, when your parents moved, you lost him. Little did you know he would return for you. And to give you that baby you once said you wanted. Warnings: Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome? Daddy Kink, Older man x younger woman. 

Ficlets: ~*~ Savior Fill: I Need You (Reader Rescues Arthur from the boys who attack him, Joker returns the favor later on). A second fill, different to the one below this. ~ * ~ Savior Fill: I can handle myself (Reader rescues Arthur from the boys who attack him, Joker returns the favor by rescuing the reader later on). Warnings: (Mature for safety due to themes) Violence, (attempted) sexual assault, Crude Language, Clown beating, Blood, Murder. Drabbles:

Pregnant with Arthur's baby, there are complications (Angst)

You Meet Arthur in London years after leaving him without a word

Arthur sees Reader interact with their child

At the Movies- Reader goes to watch Joker again in Cinema and encounters him.

Arthur touching Himself on the phone - While speaking to reader, based on gif. (NSFW)

Arthur finds out that you are pregnant with his child

Continuation of Arthur finding reader is pregnant

Arthur with a chubbier/curvy S/O who is really soft

Reader makes Arthur cum in his pants and he calls them mommy

Prompt Fills: *~* NSFW ALPHABET for Arthur & Joker - Mature audiences only. Christmas Visit - JokeringCutio (Breakingthestandards) - Joker (2019) [Archive of Our Own] → { THIS FIC SOMEHOW IS LOST?? } Imagines: *~* Reader's Gary's friend and Arthur's Blind Date Imagine HeadCanons: *~* Arthur/Joker Love Language *~* Arthur/Joker at seeing their s/o injured in hospital *~* Arthur/Joker Pleasure with Younger Reader *~* Arthur/Joker Headcanons with a younger reader *~*Arthur/Joker Headcanons for Kissing *~* Arthur/Joker Headcanons for when S/O has been kidnapped *~* Arthur/Joker Headcanons on Flirting. *~* Arthur asking Reader’s parents if he can marry you *~* Turn ons and offs for Arthur/Joker *~* HC about how Arthur and Joker would like to receive and express affection  *~* Jealousy HC for Arthur & Joker *~* Arthur/Joker x Reader, Age Difference. How it Affects Readers View of him, baby talk  (= First chapter of No Family Man) *~*On the Mental Instability of Arthur Fleck: Could you live happily ever after with him? [ An essay on a serious note] Prompt idea: *~*Prompt idea: reader is a student visiting Arkham Asylum  *~*Prompt idea: With 3 pictures *~*Prompt idea: Father went to get cigarettes

Once Upon A Time: Mr. Gold/Rumplestiltskin Ficlet: ~ *~ Mr. Gold/Rumplestiltskin x Reader (18+ Age difference, Older Man/Younger Woman, Dub-con, loss of virginity, jealousy, boinking your best friend’s dad.)

Peter Pan/Hook & Related Fandoms: Captain James Hook (Any version unless specified): Headcanons: ~*~ Captain Hook's reaction to a S/O being really affectionate and having anxiety?

House of a 1000 Corpses/Devil's Rejects / 3 From Hell Drabble/Ficlet:

~*~ Otis B. Driftwood x (f) Reader "Migraine", Warnings: 18+, Menstruation/Period Kink, Dub-con, Reader has migraine, smut. ~*~ Otis B. Driftwood x (f) Reader "Third Time's a Charm", Warnings 18+, breeding kink/pregnancy/murder etc., Can be read as a continuation of the drabble below this one: How reader is rescued, eventually, by the police. But not before having kids with Otis. ~*~Otis B. Driftwood x (f) Reader, Modern Au, WARNINGS: 18+ due to themes. Otis and Baby take you to the hospital. You hope to find a means to escape your captors, but you discover something more. ~*~Otis B. Driftwood x (f) Reader, Modern Au. WARNINGS: 18+/Noncon/Murder etc. You met him online in a game, and now you regret it.

GIF van hiddleston-daily

Crimson Peak (2015) Headcanons: Headcanons for Alan with a sister

GIF van clintfbarton

Game Of Thrones (TV): Arya x Jaqen Imagine/Short story A Girl Named Arya

Doctor Who (TV) 12 Doctor x Clara Oswin Oswald Pride and Prejudice Prompt Fill (discontinued)

[jokeringcutio]

Update: The Man Who Claimed To Be Yours

Now that I have finally continued, I have rewritten the outline, adjusted the estimated length of the tale from 12 chapters in total, to 20 chapters. [ For those of you who don't know what I am talking about, you can check the story here ] As those of you who have read and been following the tale online know, I have uploaded 9 chapters in the past. That was with the original outline. The tale ended with Arthur having turned into the Joker and successfully kidnapping you, dear reader, already pregnant with his child. Can't have you all left stranded there, can I? What happens next: Things become more gritty and violent. I have rewritten chapters 10 and 11, and have kept some parts of 12 aside to be used in the tale later on. I had a bit of difficulty finding the right vibe now that the location has changed (no longer in your comfortable home or at the job) and Arthur has become the Joker. I didn't want to lose the feeling of the past chapters, which were mundane and full of smut. In my first drafts, the chapters lost that feel. Not enough smut. Too much I wanted to say in one go. Didn't work. I eventually found back the vibe and the right plot bunny to keep the tale interesting. Between chapter 9 and 10, I have added an interlude (so basically, an extra chapter), describing how the reader is taken by Joker and his new followers to a secret hide-out. I am currently writing chapter 14. This means we have 10, 11, 12 and 13 all written out as a draft. These chapters contain scenes which include cunnilingus, smut, a new friend for our Reader, a rescue plan, plotting against the Joker, violence and maiming (not against our Reader), jealous Joker, visibly pregnant Reader (and Arthur/Joker being all touchy because he wants to feel the baby kick) and well, there's loads more to come! Keep following me for more progress on the tale, snippets, and tidbits about what is going to come next. I plan to write the entire story till the end before I will publish it.

In the meanwhile, if you like my writing, feel free to browse my masterlist. New tales, drabbles and headcanons appear regularly. Feel free to send in suggestions and prompts as well, though I might be slow in responding to them. Make sure to check out my account for recent updates, as I usually post in a European time frame and I notice that many of my posts are overlooked because of it (which is why I sometimes decide to post prompt fills on different sites as well such as on AO3 ). If you liked The Man Who Claimed To Be Yours and are into Dark Romance/being kidnapped by an older man (with gorgeous dark hair and mental issues rofl) I can recommend my Black Phone Fanfic The Chance to make a Change. This story is complete in draft (so you won't have to wait 2 years or more to know the ending), and is currently being uploaded. It has the same kind of vibe as TMWCTBY. If you want to stick to our Arthur Fleck/Joker then I have tons of little fills written about him, as well as plans for new longer fics. I still want to continue The Princess and The Clown, perhaps rework it. But if you want something short that is complete, can I recommend No Family Man? If you like long-haired men, villains and age gap fics, then I would like to point you at the many Arthur Harrow fills I have written (don't worry, you don't have to have seen the Moon Knight series or read the comics. I haven't either). I am currently working on an asylum patient Harrow x Reader fic as well. Now, to end this post, I have posted a gif that is fitting for The Man Who Claimed To Be Yours. It's not the gif that inspired the entire tale, but it is pretty meaningful to it. I think many readers will know why. Hope you are all having a wonderful day, Yours sincerely, JokeringCutio

[jokeringcutio]

Happy Valentine's Day [ Patient Arthur Harrow Admiring Reader ]

For my lovelies out there. <3

Fandom: Moon Knight (Series) Rating: General? Reader: No Gender specified

Today marked the fourteenth of February, famously known as Valentine’s Day among merchants who treated it like a day to celebrate. You’d seen the many teddies and hearts with chocolate for sale, and weren’t at all surprised to see a little Valentine’s day corner in the shop of the hospital.

What you hadn’t expected, however, was what happened after your performance that day ended. You, along with your friends, stood in front of a small gathered crowd, smiling, making the final bows while you listened to the applause that came from the room. The performance had gone well, excellent even. It always warmed your heart to put on a little show in front of the elderly and the sick, so needless to say when they asked your group to give a show at the local hospital you had been the first to say yes.

Your friends hopped off the little make-shift stage and headed for the office that had been appointed to your group to use as a dressing room. You were all wearing costumes that allowed you to move freely, accentuating your figures and adding a bit of a wow-factor to your act. You were the last to leave the stage, when a nurse gently took you by the arm and guided you away from your group of friends.

“Excuse me,” she said, smiling almost shyly. “I have been asked to give you this,” she hesitated, holding out a red rose in her hand for you. It was a fake one, plastic with soft fabric used for the petals. A rose that would last for a very long time.

For a moment, you just stood and looked at it, confused by what was going on. Surely, this rose could not be meant for you, could it? But then the nurse saw your confusion. “It is from one of our patients, Mister Harrow.” She indicated where he sat and you turned your head.

A pale-looking man in a wheel-chair, clearly unwell by the ashen-look of his skin, was seated at a small table at the edge of the room. His clothes were all white – like the hospital walls. His long hair greying. When he saw you looking over at him, he gave you a little wave. The movement seemed to cause him a lot of effort. His lips twitched until the corner of one side curled into a sly smile – or did it just seem sly because the smile was crooked? As if one half of his mouth had been paralyzed and his lips could not be raised there.

“Thank him from me,” you said to the nurse, turning back to her. You smiled brightly, taking the rose from her hands and making a show of bringing it up to your lips. You twirled the rose between your fingers, then took a deep breath as if the rose was actually real and fragrant. Then your eyes opened and were back on the patient, mister Harrow, again.

He was looking at you, eyes intense, a certain darkness to them despite their bright blue color. His smile had gone. You quickly lowered the rose in front of your chest again, afraid he hadn’t liked your little sign of thank-you.

“I will,” the nurse happily chirped. She made to leave, but you halted her with a question of your own. “What is he in here for? He doesn’t look well.”

“Oh,” the nurse said, frowning as she followed your gaze to Harrow again. The man was eyeing you two curiously, as if he wondered what you two were talking about. “He’s one of our asylum patients, nothing much wrong with him physically apart from the injuries to his feet. In fact, I think he’s one of the easiest and nicest to have around.”

“Then why does he look so pale?” you asked.

“Must be from his medicines. He’s a sweetheart during the days, but apparently, at night, he can be a bit of a hands full. I’m just lucky I have been doing the day shifts so far,” she said.

You looked at said ‘sweetheart’ and cradled the rose close to your chest. Was it your imagination, or did the man’s eyes darken again? Was he looking at you through his lashes? Was it on purpose, or just a side-effect of the drugs?

One of your friends called your name and you remembered you had to go. “Thank you,” you said to the nurse, then turned one last time in Harrow’s direction. You smiled at him and gave a nod. His lips turned upward again. Then you were off.

-----------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed <3 I tried keeping it light and general ;D @nicktremblaywayfu & @willshipanything-blog & @ajokeformur-ray (I know, this is a different Arthur, but imagine Arthur Fleck there instead, will work the same ;D ) @angi-writes-filth (From my sideblog, we have a chat about the Grabber story I am working on currently on my main. Not sure if you're familiar with this character of Ethan but he is basically a different version of our Al). @jokerflecker (It's been way too long, but like for some of the others, just imagine our Arthur Fleck in here :) ) And to anyone else I haven't tagged but needs this <3

[jokeringcutio]

It's fun to see you deep in the Afton hole hehe

Buuuuut... I was just curious if you have any plans for your joker or Arthur harrow fics that are on hold

I didn't wanna seem rude begging for updates when you're in a fnaf fixation tho

Yes, Anon. I have (:

Sometimes I post updates about my writing process or personal life with info about these tales in it :) TLDR: In short: Joker's TMWCTBY will be completed - although I am considering only publishing the full tale in e-book form rather than posting the new chapters on AO3. Joker's Princess and the Clown is nominated to be continued. Joker's new tale is planned for when Joker 2 has aired. Harrow's Harrowing Love will be continued in the new year. A new story featuring Arthur Harrow and Albert Shaw will appear in the upcoming days. For more Details: Joker's 'The Man Who Claimed To Be Yours' was scheduled to be finished by the end of this year, or the start of next. Now unfortunately due to health issues that have me in and out of hospital and bedbound and asleep most of the time, that schedule probably won't be met. But I am still writing the tale and it's nearly done. Perhaps I will release the final chapters in an ebook adaptation of it only - as a slightly rewritten story - because I wanted to turn the story into an ebook for years now and have the cutest cover for it :3 (Yep, man in asylum clothes but I find it cute).

Arthur Harrow's 'Harrowing Love' has been on hold writing-wise for a while now. I really need to continue writing on it, but decided that some of the chapters are more fit to be uploaded near Easter, and already announced the tale will be slow in updates and take off again next year :)

Joker's 'The Princess and the Clown' is one of the Joker 2019 tales I wish to pick up again but have been struggling with the changing perspectives. Also, I have been doubting where to take it. Romantic? Or Dark Romance? I seem to be doing that latter quite well the past year, but should I pull everything into the dark? I haven't decided yet and might do a poll about it one day. I expect I will be rewriting and updating this fic in the future.

Harrow will feature again in a new fanfic that I have started on. None of the chapters have been posted online yet, but it features the Reader as a young woman living trapped in his 'community', after having fallen for his charm. She is aware that escaping the cult is difficult and tries to make the best of it, until her secret crush - Harrow, who apparently has not looked at her romantically even once - forces her to marry his brother: Albert Shaw. This is, as you can guess, a crossover with the Black Phone and will feature lots of smut. I want to upload this fic as soon as possible, so it'll probably be one of the fics you'll see appear soon that features our beloved cult leader Arthur Harrow.

Joker-wise, I have an idea for a multi-chapter fic that I desperately want to write in the future. Plans are to start that tale once TMWCTBY is finally done. But the idea should also fit whatever sequel they have been making, so if I get round to it, you'll probably see it appear only after Joker 2 is out.

As to other projects, there are some more up and running. Of course, there are my other favorite slasher men, and I might write about one of my favorite ladies if I have the chance. I still have tales I need to finish for friends, and I am attempting to write something in a different language for a competition currently. But most of all, I am asleep in my bed, missing a lot of my life currently and having not nearly enough time to do everything I want. I am a mom with two young kids, who had to quit her job due to long covid. The long covid has given me Asthma. I was already a Migraine patient thanks to a benign tumor in my youth. And let's just say I am receptible to them. I am facing abdominal surgery soon and hopefully stop the pains, aches and goddamn bleeding (to everyone who has a blood fetish, you may keep it. I am not into it). I'll be in the hospital again tomorrow for a medical exam, so any updates in the upcoming days will probably be scheduled posts. But I love you all and will keep writing for as long as I can and whenever I can.

[jokeringcutio]

Snippet 18+ content underneath the cut. You've been warned:

“Excuse me, but what is going on?” you asked, eyes wide in disbelief. What did they want from you?

But then Arthur flipped the covers open, the blanket aside, to reveal that he was wearing a shirt with nothing underneath. Naked flesh, bare thighs. A proud and leaking shaft protruded out of a bush of greying dark hair. His cock, you thought alarmed.

“Will you help me willingly?” he then asked, voice smooth and gentle, his eyes finally upon you.

~ I have yet to find the plot / and a title. It'll come. Like the reader and Arthur come in nearly all four chapters now. It is insane. Like:

[jokeringcutio]

Send me Requests for imagines/Drabbles:

The Grabber (Black Phone) or Arthur Fleck (Joker) I'll accept them for Arthur Harrow (Moon Knight) as well Author Note: I still have a few prompts pending that need to be written, but my inspiration is waaaaay too much for small tales for them. Perhaps they still will become drabbles in the end...But I have different plans for them right now.

but I am currently making VERY SLOW progress with the Asylum Patient Arthur Harrow fic which is turning from noncon/dubcon into a fluffly romance. I didn't know I could do write that but here we are.... Slow, but I am making progress. Need a title, then I will post the first chapter. The Black Phone Grabber x Reader Fic is still being updated on a weekly basis on AO3. Usually on a Monday or Friday. I haven't posted all chapter update notifications on Tumblr. Sorry :P

Why else are you this slow atm? Health-wise: THEY FINALLY FOUND SOMETHING OMGOSH!!!! So that means I will get an inhaler and I am thrilled! Because if this works perhaps I won't be out of breath so soon, won't be tired all the time, will be able to dance and sing again. I AM OVER THE MOON. Otherwise: I have a deadline for next weekend and I try to finish Gaga's Harley Quinn costume for it (well, something that looks remotely like it, so wish me luck. )

[jokeringcutio]

Tumblr keeps crashing so I had to cut the list in parts: Moon Knight (Series 2022) Arthur Harrow: Fics: *~* Blessing -  Arthur Harrow x Reader (BDSM play, smut) Rating explicit.*~* Harrowing Love - Rating Explicit. Asylum Patient Harrow has to make a child with reader so Ammit’s powers can escape. Excuse for loads of smut. Starts darkish with noncon, quickly transcends into consensual, fluff and romance. Strangers to Lovers.

*~* HIS - Dr. Harrow x (F) Reader - Rating Mature. (You suffer from Amnesia and have forgotten that Doctor Harrow is actually your husband. Or have you? Dark twist. Warnings: Amnesia, Allusions to Smut, Mature themes, dub-con,betrayal, Jake Lockley x Reader mentioned.) * ~~ Prompt Fill: Cleopatra and the Cult Leader (Rating Teen: Arthur Harrow x Reader (You dress up for a party like Cleopatra. Arthur Harrow’s there, and he’s intrigued.) *~* Prompt Fill: Arhur Harrow x Reader | Lockley’s Brilliant Plan (They thought a little student like you wouldn’t raise suspicion. They were wrong. Explicit, Smut, dubcon/noncon/reader is a spy for Lockley). Imagines: *~* Arthur Harrow x Amnesic Reader waking up (Rating T, Sweet tale ) *~* Imagine Prompt: Arthur Harrow visits his mother (Rating: T? Reader insert, mentioning of relationship, pregnancy, and other fam related things). *~* I’m the only one (Harrow x another fem. Harrow x Reader (unrequited?) Arthur Harrow wants something from you that he usually gets from another follower. You had claimed you would do anything to save his life, but you would not do that. *~* Happy Valentine’s Day (Reader receives a rose. General rating, gender neutral reader) Includes edited image. *~* Imagine prompt: Arthur Harrow x Reader | Kaiserschmarrn (You visit Austria with your parents, M? Not explicit, but with a dark twist) *~*Imagine Prompt: Arthur Harrow x Reader (Reader resurrects Ammit scenario) Drabbles: *~*  Harrow comforts his sad girlfriend with gentle love making Rating: Mature/crisp of Explicit.*~* Arthur Harrow x Driver! Reader : Driver confesses she is in love with him. Rating: Teen, sweet drabble. *~* Arthur Harrow x Reader & Daughter: Seashells on the beach: Rating:General, Family/Fluff/Sweet Drabble *~* Arthur Harrow X Assassin Reader : Lentil Soup : Dark but decent version, Rating: Teen. *~* Arthur Harrow x Amnesic (Fem) Reader (His Wife) Sweet version *~* Arthur Harrow visits his mother (Reader insert) HeadCanons:*~*HC: Arthur Harrow & His Mom Headcannon.*~* Arthur Harrow giving Reader Pet Names

Crossovers: Black Phone & Moon Knight ~*~  Albert Shaw x Reader x Arthur Harrow “ His Brother“ : When his brother Albert joins the cult, Arthur orders you to marry him. You’re a tool to keep Albert in check. Or could there be more to it? Rating: Explicit. Warnings: Explicit sexual content, strangers to lovers, forced marriage, pining, dubcon-to-con, older men/younger woman, age difference, belt/choking

Blue Eye Samurai

Abijah Fowler x (f) Reader Finding out Reader is Pregnant | Mature | Warnings: Angst, Drama, language, mature themes, Abijah is referred to as European Monster, Reader is referred to as half-breed, Reader is a maid at Abijah’s castle. Abijah might have feelings in this. Pokémon *~*  Female Reader x Jessie [ Part 1 ]

Enola Holmes(2020):

*~*Pine Cone Child : Enola/Sherlock Holmes, Enola/Linthorn (Mature, Read Warnings on AO3, currently on hold ) Pine Cone Child is a mature rated fanfic, mostly about Enola and her brother Sherlock pretending to be a married couple (his suggestion) to save Enola’s reputation and raise her child together. With angst, mature themes (check the warnings and the tags) light-hearted banter and lots of misunderstandings.

Once Upon A Time: Mr. Gold/Rumplestiltskin Ficlet: ~ *~ Mr. Gold/Rumplestiltskin x Reader (18+ Age difference, Older Man/Younger Woman, Dub-con, loss of virginity, jealousy, boinking your best friend’s dad.)

Peter Pan/Hook & Related Fandoms: Captain James Hook (Any version unless specified): Headcanons: ~*~ Captain Hook’s reaction to a S/O being really affectionate and having anxiety? Crimson Peak (2015) Headcanons: Headcanons for Alan with a sister Male Reader x Thomas Sharpe: Meeting at the Ball: MxM, Explciit, Fluff, SMUT.

Game Of Thrones (TV): Arya x Jaqen Imagine/Short story A Girl Named Arya

Doctor Who (TV) 12 Doctor x Clara Oswin Oswald Pride and Prejudice Prompt Fill (discontinued)

HALLOWEEN PROMPT FILLS MASTERLIST 2023 [ READER INSERTS ]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

AN: Follow me for more Reader-Inserts.

NON-EXPLICIT TALES:

Reader accidentally enters Neverland and meets Hook Fandom: Hook / Peter Pan Pairing: Reader x Captain James Hook Rating: Teen Warnings: Halloween Party, Pirates, Kiss.

Reader is an Au Pair trick and treating at the Grabber’s door Fandom: The Black Phone 2022 Pairing: Albert Shaw (The Grabber) x Reader (Au Pair from abroad) Rating: Teen Warnings: Au Pair Reader is from Abroad, Mention of Age Gap, Dark Undertones. Overall quite sweet.

Summary: You are an Au Pair stopping at the Grabber’s House. Romantic (with perhaps the tiniest hint of darkness underneath).

Reader meets Thomas Sharpe at the Halloween BallFandom: Crimson Peak Pairing: Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader Rating: Teen Warnings: None Really. Romance. Talk about marriage and kids. Drama. Tiny bit of Angst? Sorry it was written in a rush. Possible Cameo for Albert Shaw. Summary:  AU in which Sir Thomas Sharpe never had his sister corrupt him and meets Reader at a Halloween masquerade.

EXPLICIT TALES BELOW:

(DON’T READ IF YOU’RE UNDER 18)

Reader in Hogwarts outfit visits Snape during Halloween Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: Professor Snape x Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: A grown-up dressed as a Hogwarts student on Halloween… Snape has his own thoughts about it.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual content, spanking, blowjob.

Reader Mistakes Arthur Fleck (as Carnival) for a friend Fandom: Joker 2019 Pairing: Arthur Fleck (as Carnival) x Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: You mistake him for somebody else, but that might be the best thing that happened to the both of you, for you end up losing your virginity to each other.

Warnings: Sexual content, Virginity/First time.

Reader ends up being bred by Otis in a Halloween Ritual Please read ALL warnings. Fandom: House of a 1000 corpses, devil’s rejects, 3 from hell. Pairing: Otis B. Driftwood x Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: When you and your friends ask for help, you end up as part of a horrific ritual. Warnings: Killer Family, murder, death of a friend, Sexual content, Non-con, Breeding.

Reader Bumps into a Clown at Halloween who comes to visit her house Please read ALL warnings. Fandom: Terrifier (2), All Hallows Eve (2) Pairing: Art the Clown x Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: It is Halloween when you bump into a clown and, embarrassed, apologize. Later that evening, your roommate Meri seems to have invited that very same clown into your house for a bit of fun. But that fun turns quickly into a nightmare. Warnings: Mention of Murder, Cannibalism, death of a friend, Sexual content, dub-con. Reader is scared of clowns. Implied Virginity/First Time. Mention of Blood. Coulrophobia.

Reader (witch!) ties Ernst to his chair and has her way with him Fandom: First Reformed Pairing: Ernst Toller x (Witch!) Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: Ernst is home alone at Halloween when a Witch comes at his door. Warnings: Mention of inner conflict, Pastor x Witch, Explicit Sexual Content, Slight Bondage: Ernst is tied down, Reader on top.

Reader is putting on decorations with coworker Albert Shaw Fandom: The Black Phone 2022 Pairing: Albert Shaw (The Grabber) x Reader (coworker) Rating: Explicit Summary: You’re putting the decorations up in the hardware store where you work, when your coworker lingers behind to help you.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual content, Reader wearing a skirt, Fingering.

Reader finds a handsome wounded stranger at her door Fandom: Stranger Things Pairing: Henry Creel (001) x Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: It’s Halloween when a young, wounded man appears at your door. How can you refuse him.. anything?

Warnings: Explicit Sexual content, mention of blood, orderly Henry Creel.

Reader dresses up as a Vampire after catching Arthur as Dracula Fandom: Joker (2019) Pairing: Arthur Fleck x Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: Arthur thinks dressing up as Dracula will help him seduce his neighbor: you.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual content, smoking (Arthur), laughing during sex.

If you like my work you can: [ Show support and buy me a ko-fi) ] [ Follow my Tumblr for more updates and new fics ] I currently have 90+ requests pending ♡

Fics Listed (Feb 6 '24 )

I've got new updates folks. As Tumblr pages aren't that easily clickable on the app, here's a current up to date list with some of my writing.(Tumblr kept crashing so this is list is without pics)

IN THIS ENORMOUS POST YOU"LL FIND: Black Phone | Joker (2019) | Five Night's at Freddy's (William Afton & Stepdad AU) | Scream (Stu Macher & Stepbrother AU) | House of a 1000 Corpses/Devil’s Rejects / 3 From Hell | Terrifier | Moon Knight (2022) | Blue Eye Samurai | Pokémon | Enola Holmes(2020) | Once Upon A Time | Peter Pan/Hook | Crimson Peak | (Halloween2023 list including Crimson Peak & Stranger Things & Harry Potter & First Reformed ) Click below to unfold the list and browse. There's more to come lovelies <3

The Black Phone (2022) Albert Shaw / The Grabber:

Stories: *~* The Chance to make a Change (Grabber x Reader) When you end up in front of the Grabber’s house, you decide to take matters into your own hands and stop Albert Shaw from kidnapping and murdering these innocent boys like he does in the movie. You have good intentions. But will you succeed? (Rating Explicit, Lots of warnings and tags such as older man/younger woman, age difference, size difference, rape/noncon, violence, dead dove: do not eat, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, daddy kink, major character death, etc) *~* The Gift (Grabber x Reader) Your curiosity got the better of you (Mature, though not overtly explicit, kidnapping, older man/younger woman). *~* A Gift for his Gift - Albert Shaw / The Grabber x Reader Insert [ WARNINGS ] (Explicit, Dub/noncon elements/can be seen as a continuation of ‘the gift’). *~* TEARS - Albert Shaw/The Grabber x Kidnapped!Reader (Explicit, lots of warnings, Dacryphilia, Daddy Kink, Non-con elements). Reader hasn’t succumbed to Stockholm Syndrome yet. *~* HALLOWEEN DECORATION – SWEET GRABBER X READER VERSION (Explicit) Reader is Albert’s coworker. *~* TRICK OR TREAT – SWEET GRABBER X READER VERSION (Teen, No Warnings except perhaps dark undertones? But overall quite innocent). Reader rings Albert’s doorbell to trick-or-treat. *~*  Menstruation Kink - Grabber x Reader (NSFW, lots of Warnings) *~* Just as Dangerous Grabber x (f) Reader  Explicit. Warnings. Smut. Consensual Rough play, belt choking, daddy-kink and much more. Reader has been taken by the Grabber but he discovers she has her own agenda (killer Reader). 

Drabble:

*~* What if Reader got pregnant of the Grabber and he discovered her pregnancy, Mature themes *~* Reader is Albert Shaw’s younger girlfriend and helps him unwind. Explicit, Age Difference. *~* Reader has a nightmare but is comforted by the Grabber Explicit, Stockholm Syndrome, dubcon smut. *~* Reader scratches their own arms when Albert Shaw stops them, T, but self-harm (scratching), swearing (by reader), genneutral Reader. *~* Grabber Finds a Plushie, Yellow Bunny in your backpack, NC-17 due to themes. *~* A warm spring day in the garden with your family (implied kidnapping) * ~* You’re kidnapped and have insomnia (Smut), Explicit, Non-con warning. *~* You’re kidnapped and have amnesia [ Part 1 ], Mature. [ Part 2 ] *~* You’re his new neighbor and meet him when Samson enters your garden. Sweet, light drabble, bit of flirting, Rating: Teen. *~* The Grabber returns for you after you escaped him. Modern AU. Mature. Imagine: *~* Albert Shaw x (Teacher afab) Reader - Search Party

Headcannons: *~* Grabber x Male Cop Reader

Crossovers: Black Phone & Moon Knight ~*~  Albert Shaw x Reader x Arthur Harrow “ His Brother” : When his brother Albert joins the cult, Arthur orders you to marry him. You’re a tool to keep Albert in check. Or could there be more to it? Rating: Explicit. Warnings: Explicit sexual content, strangers to lovers, forced marriage, pining, dubcon-to-con, older men/younger woman, age difference, belt/choking

Crossovers: Black Phone & Joker Ficlets: ~*~ Reader is Joker’s girlfriend trying on a new costume, J swears to take revenge on her ex-boyfriend the Grabber, Warnings 18+, sexual content, references to Badass!Reader

Drabbles:

~*~The Magician - Reader and Arthur go to see a show, but the Magician is getting a bit too friendly. Rating: PG13, no real warnings except jealousy and possessive men.  ~*~ Bumping into Albert on way to date with Arthur, Rating: Teen.

Joker (2019) Arthur Fleck/Joker: Stories: *~*The Man Who Claimed To Be Yours - JokeringCutio (Breakingthestandards) - Joker (2019) [Archive of Our Own] (Arthur Fleck x Reader : You are Sophie’s hired babysitter, taking care of Gigi the best you can, when suddenly one day, Sophie’s neighbour is standing in the apartment. Explicit! Dark Themes. See all Warnings on AO3!) *~*The Princess and the Clown - JokeringCutio (Breakingthestandards) - Joker (2019) [Archive of Our Own] → You are a princess at a charity and Arthur is a clown. When you say something kind to him, he becomes obsessed with you. [ Modern Day AU. Mature. *~* No Family Man [ Chapter 1|  Chapter 2]  On AO3 - Finished. Summary: You met Arthur when you were just in high school, but by the time you got into university, you knew you’d fallen for him. But then, when your parents moved, you lost him. Little did you know he would return for you. And to give you that baby you once said you wanted. Warnings: Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome? Daddy Kink, Older man x younger woman. 

Ficlets: ~*~ Ficlet: The Librarian and the Clown (Rating Teen) You notice the man as he comes in and asks your help using the computer. You’d never imagined he would come ask for your help in an entirely different matter.   ~*~ Savior Fill: I Need You (Reader Rescues Arthur from the boys who attack him, Joker returns the favor later on). A second fill, different to the one below this. ~ * ~ Savior Fill: I can handle myself(Reader rescues Arthur from the boys who attack him, Joker returns the favor by rescuing the reader later on). Warnings: (Mature for safety due to themes) Violence, (attempted) sexual assault, Crude Language, Clown beating, Blood, Murder. Drabbles:

The Rescue (Reader being Rescued by Joker) 

Pregnant with Arthur’s baby, there are complications (Angst)

You Meet Arthur in London years after leaving him without a word

Arthur sees Reader interact with their child

At the Movies- Reader goes to watch Joker again in Cinema and encounters him.

Arthur touching Himself on the phone - While speaking to reader, based on gif. (NSFW)

Arthur finds out that you are pregnant with his child

Continuation of Arthur finding reader is pregnant

Arthur with a chubbier/curvy S/O who is really soft

Reader makes Arthur cum in his pants and he calls them mommy

Prompt Fills: *~* NSFW ALPHABET for Arthur & Joker - Mature audiences only. Christmas Visit - JokeringCutio (Breakingthestandards) - Joker (2019) [Archive of Our Own] → { THIS FIC SOMEHOW IS LOST?? } Imagines: *~* Reader’s Gary’s friend and Arthur’s Blind Date Imagine HeadCanons: *~* Arthur/Joker Love Language *~* Arthur/Joker at seeing their s/o injured in hospital *~* Arthur/Joker Pleasure with Younger Reader *~* Arthur/Joker Headcanons with a younger reader *~*Arthur/Joker Headcanons for Kissing *~* Arthur/Joker Headcanons for when S/O has been kidnapped *~* Arthur/Joker Headcanons on Flirting. *~* Arthur asking Reader’s parents if he can marry you *~* Turn ons and offs for Arthur/Joker *~* HC about how Arthur and Joker would like to receive and express affection  *~* Jealousy HC for Arthur & Joker *~* Arthur/Joker x Reader, Age Difference. How it Affects Readers View of him, baby talk  (= First chapter of No Family Man) *~*On the Mental Instability of Arthur Fleck: Could you live happily ever after with him? [ An essay on a serious note] Prompt idea: *~*Prompt idea: reader is a student visiting Arkham Asylum  *~*Prompt idea: With 3 pictures *~*Prompt idea: Father went to get cigarettes

Crossovers: Black Phone & Joker Ficlets: ~*~ Reader is Joker’s girlfriend trying on a new costume, J swears to take revenge on her ex-boyfriend the Grabber, Warnings 18+, sexual content, references to Badass!Reader

Drabbles:

~*~The Magician - Reader and Arthur go to see a show, but the Magician is getting a bit too friendly. Rating: PG13, no real warnings except jealousy and possessive men.  ~*~ Bumping into Albert on way to date with Arthur, Rating: Teen.

Five Nights at Freddy 

Index: 

FNAF General Fics

Stepdad! William Afton x Reader

~*~William Afton x (f) Reader “Best Friend’s Dad”, Warnings, 18+, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Older man x younger woman, Friend’s dad x Reader. ~*~ William Afton x (f) Reader “Swimming Pool”, Warnings 18+, Explicit Sexual Content, Vag, fingering, hint of adultery, married older man x younger woman. You’re swimming at the local pool when you bump into a married man. If he is deliberately touching you, then why does he introduce his family to you? Surely you are imagining things, right?~*~William Afton/Steve Raglan x (f) Reader “Explore”, Warnings 18+, Explicit Sexual content, non-con/dub-con, loss of virginity, breeding kink. Reader is exploring an abandoned building when she finds a wounded man. She should not have helped him. [ Continuation MULTI-CHAPTER on AO3 ]

Stepdad! William Afton:

~*~ William Afton x (f) Reader “Accidental Picture”, WARNINGS: 18+, Smut, Non-con/Dub-con, Dark!William, First time (reader),  Stepdad teaches his daughter a lesson after she accidentally sends him a nude.  ~*~ William Afton x (f) Reader “Boyfriend”, Warnings, 18+, smut, older man x younger woman, Stepdad!WilliamAfton, William is not a nice man, fingering, jealousy, creampie. ~*~ William Afton x (f) Reader “Christmas Present”, Warnings: Explicit, Sexual content, fingering, creampie, keeping it a secret from mom, smut. ~*~ William Afton x (f) Reader “Telephone Cable”, Warnings: Explicit, Sexual Content, Light choking, cock warming.

Drabbles: ~*~ William Afton x (f) Reader “Caught In the Act”, You catch your stepdad on the toilet. Warnings: Mature, Accidental Nakedness, Confusion, Tension. ~*~ William Afton x (f) Reader, Mom brings up a paternity test during dinner, William is, of course, your son’s father, and no one is to know. Mature due to themes. ~*~ William Afton x (f) Reader Drabble, [4] Mom suggests a paternity tests while you’re eating dinner.~*~ William Afton x (f) Reader “Newborn”, [3]You are on your way home after giving birth to your stepdad’s child - but no one may know. Warnings: Mature. talk about dub-con/taboo relationship, keeping it a secret, name-calling, William being mean, William calling you a slut, but also: William being emotional about his baby. ~*~ William Afton x (f) Reader “Discovered”, [2] Your pregnancy is discovered by your mom. Warnings: Explicit. talk about dub-con/taboo relationship, keeping it a secret, angst, drama, William being evil/Manipulative William ~*~ William Afton x (f) Reader “Pregnant”,  [1]Your mom has news to share. Warnings: Mature, talk about dub-con/taboo relationship, keeping it a secret, angst, drama, William being mean. ~*~ William Afton x (f) Reader “New Year”, Explicit, SMUT. ~*~ William Afton x (f) Reader “Cinema”, Warnings: Mature, older man x younger woman, Stepdad!WilliamAfton, Family Gathering, Secret touching. ~*~ William Afton x (f) Reader “Barbecue, Warnings: Mature, older man x younger woman, Stepdad!WilliamAfton, jealousy.

STEPDAD X Male Reader Quick Drabble of M Reader discovering something’s missing from his room, Mature due to themes and implications.

Stepdad William Afton & Stepbrother Stu Macher: *Stepdad Afton is sometimes mentioned as the dad/present as a father figure/ sometimes romantically or sexually involved. Check story description/warnings for this.

Stu Macher (Scream)

~*~ Meeting Stu, Rating: Teen, Tension. Mention of Stepdad William and Stepsister Vanessa. ~*~ First Evening Meal (Footsie) Rating Mature due to themes. Mention of Stepdad Afton (getting involved under the table) ~*~ Baking Cookies with Stu, Rating: Mature due to themes. ~*~ First Time having your Period, Rating Mature due ot themes and remarks made by Stu. ~*~ First Time Bumping into Stu in the Hallway on your way to bed. Rating Mature due to themes and amibiuos comments by Stu.  ~*~ Watching Stu and his girlfriend Casey, Rating: Teen. Jealousy. Mention of Stepdad William Afton. ~*~ Stu Playing FNAF Rating: Mature. Mention of Stepdad Afton.

House of a 1000 Corpses/Devil’s Rejects / 3 From Hell Drabble/Ficlet:

~*~ Otis F*cks Reader into labor, Explicit! Smut, labor, Can be seen as a continuation of the Halloween Ritual AND Reader is pregnant as found below. ~*~ Otis discovers Reader is pregnant Mature, Can be seen as a continuation drabble of the Halloween Ritual. ~*~ Reader ends up being bred by Otis in a Halloween Ritual Explicit, Smut, Murder. ~*~ Otis B. Driftwood x (f) Reader Artful Pictures, Warnings 18+, Reader takes pictures of Otis’s art. ~*~ Otis B. Driftwood x (f) Reader “Migraine”, Warnings: 18+, Menstruation/Period Kink, Dub-con, Reader has migraine, smut. ~*~ Otis B. Driftwood x (f) Reader “Third Time’s a Charm”, Warnings 18+, breeding kink/pregnancy/murder etc., Can be read as a continuation of the drabble below this one: How reader is rescued, eventually, by the police. But not before having kids with Otis. ~*~Otis B. Driftwood x (f) Reader, Modern Au, WARNINGS: 18+ due to themes. Otis and Baby take you to the hospital. You hope to find a means to escape your captors, but you discover something more. ~*~Otis B. Driftwood x (f) Reader, Modern Au. WARNINGS: 18+/Noncon/Murder etc. You met him online in a game, and now you regret it.

Terrifier Drabble/Ficlet: ~*~ “Giving Birth to Art’s Baby” - Art the Clown x Reader, Explicit for Gore, Blood, Murder, Graphic Birth, Cannibalism. ~*~ Reader Bumps into a Clown at Halloween who comes to visit her house Explicit, Smut.