#SHE DESERVES THIS KIND OF ATTENTION SO MUCH

[repulsiveliquidation]

Broken || Alexia Putellas

summary : you're broken but your girlfriend knows how to hold you together. angst.

a/n : i've literally got no time to write but i've been itching so here just a teeny tiny blurb i came up with before class while listening to the song below.

Based on ‘Stay’ by Gracie Abrams

Alexia walked into your apartment to the sound of your sobs. She almost dropped the groceries she was holding, your dog startled at the sound of a wine bottle that nearly broke as it hit the marble counter a little too hard.

“Amor?” she called, standing in the doorway of your bedroom. You were a mess, curled up in a ball in the middle of the king-sized bed.

“Please make it stop,” you begged, words muffled into the pillow you were hugging, wishing it was your girlfriend. Alexia shuffled into the room with tears brimming in her eyes, her heart shattering as she watched you become a shell of yourself.  

The pain was something you learned to deal with yourself. Years and years of self-loathing from bouts of depression and suicide made you numb to love. Your parents were to blame, favoring your sister who was always smarter, better, stronger, and more deserving of their love and attention. Football was your one distraction and injury took that away from you.

The years of hiding behind a ball and suppressing all those feelings came crashing down when your ACL tore. The feelings were overwhelming, thoughts of self-destruction felt like an old friend.

You were better at football than she was. But that was not good enough for them. She had to be first. Not you.

You thought that if you could just be better at something than she was, they’d love you.

Turns out, they resented you for it.

“How dare you be better than her?”

“How dare you take her spot on the team?”

“You don’t deserve it.”

They got one thing right though. You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve their harsh words. You didn’t deserve their criticism. You didn’t deserve their wishes that you weren’t a burden.

Burden. That’s what you feel like now. On your girlfriend who had to deal with your breakdowns and tantrums.  

She was too good for you. If she saw how broken you were, or how much of a liar you were, she’d leave. Just like they did.

“Amor, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Alexia cooed, curling up beside you with her arms around you.

“Could you hold me without any talking?” you asked, a voice so soft Alexia almost missed your request.

“Of course, I can,” she said, pulling you into her arms.

They were warm. Safe. Strong. Determined to take your pain away.

She spoke after a while, certain you had fallen asleep as your choked sobs simmered down.

“I don't care if you've changed, but you are so much more than football. You are so beautiful, kind, loving, and most importantly, mine. Amor, you are so special to me and I hope we can help you see that.”

“You deserve someone who isn’t such a mess, Alexia,” you mumble; she’s a little startled that you’re awake but keeps her cool to not agitate you.  

“Everyone’s a little messy, cariño. That’s what makes us people who learn how to love.”

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #fc barca femeni #woso community #woso soccer #woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #espwnt #woso blurbs

[chilschuck]

Can i request for chilchuck react to reader who like to daydream and after he tell the reader he is married, the reader keep spacing out more often out of sadness and they also try to avoid interacting with him much so she can move on. But laios and the other think it's normal since she always avoid interacting with people ( the reader interact with chilchuck more after falling in love with him )

Do you think he will notice? (ಥ﹏ಥ) (ಡ‸ಡ)

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WAHHHH ANON this is such a good concept and made my heart hurt…… i ended up adding some comfort to it because if you’re like me, you need it after reading angst!! :”)))

— OF COURSE: chilchuck x gn!reader.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ sfw + hurt/comfort! might be a lil ooc, lol.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 941

✦ i hope this turned out okay!! i made it shorter than my other drabbles by accident but it felt good to end it where it did. i kind of changed the prompt a lil but only because i wanted to give you guys some love from chil still. (;;;w;;;) i’m honestly worried this turned out bad…. hhhhh. i’m so sorry if it’s not what you wanted. ;;; i still hope you enjoy!!! <333

He knew something was wrong.

It wasn’t difficult to see that you had started avoiding him. Even your gaze refused to meet his own for longer than it had to. Your constant spacing out and stares at the floor said all he needed to hear: you were upset.

It only seemed to get worse when you overheard his talk about reconciling with his wife, any hope you had shattering into a thousand pieces in front of you. From then on, you didn’t smile unless you felt you had to. The thick silence you left in your wake was suffocating, and Chilchuck wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

The other members in the party took it as if you were being your usual spacey self, and didn’t draw any attention to the issue. This only made Chilchuck feel worse; he definitely noticed the change.

You used to hang back with Chilchuck and talk with him constantly, sharing little tidbits about yourselves or chatting mindlessly. Things seemed to come easily when it came to you... Too bad he only realized this now.

The smiles you gave him, the eyes full of affection, the lingering touches… It stung that they were no longer a part of his everyday life. Instead, the sadness that ate at you only bled through to your face, into your actions, and into your silence. It was unfamiliar and unbearable at the same time… Especially with the way you’d closed up further.

Chilchuck wasn’t stupid; he knew you harbored some sort of feelings for him. He wasn’t sure if that made this hurt more than it would otherwise. You were obviously distancing yourself from him, further proving his point that inner party relationships were trouble. Yet, there wasn’t any anger or resentment in his chest towards you. If anything, this was a misunderstanding between the two of you.

Calling your name, he approached you almost apprehensively. The recoil you gave made that familiar sharp pain in his chest reappear. Blurting out an excuse, you made your presence scarce. And just like that, you left him alone again.

Of course he noticed. If anything, he hoped that it was all some sort of miscommunication. Sure, he wanted to reconnect with his estranged wife, but… That’s what they were: estranged childhood sweethearts that grew apart. Along with their love, their relationship changed. Things weren’t something he could fix, and his old flame knew that too. But he hoped more than anything they could sort through their differences and still be at least friends.

Of course you didn’t know. There was no way for you to know, or have known his true intentions. Like everything else he tried to bury deep down, you were fading from his life. Chilchuck couldn’t seem to let this one go, to let you go.

So he chased after you. For once in his life, he decided to not swallow these feelings down. He knew there was only so much he could bury, only so much he’d want to bury. You didn’t deserve that, and he needed you to give him those smiles again. To give him those gazes full of adoration and those tender but fleeting touches…

You didn’t pull your hand out of his immediately. Instead, when he called your name again this time, you turned. Chilchuck swallowed.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Surely there was a better thing to ask at this moment, but your lip quivered nonetheless. A deep sigh leaving you, your gaze met with the floor again.

“…So it’d stop hurting.” Was all you replied, the weight of those words knocking the air out of him. He opened his mouth to speak, but you raised a hand to silence him.

“This is for the best... I hope you understand.” Your voice used to never sound so broken. It was soft in a way that he’d never heard before. You had truly given up on this, and he can’t say he blames you. He’d have given up on himself, too.

But he can’t let himself fall into that same cycle of self-pity. Not again, he assured himself, reaching up to grab a fist full of your top and pulling you down to meet his eyes. “Let me explain this to you. Please. I… I’m not going back to her because of the reason you think.” Chilchuck hadn’t heard himself this pleading in so long. He felt pitiful, and he suddenly remembered why he doesn’t like being vulnerable.

You couldn’t stop your head from nodding a yes to his request, that spark of hope trying to ignite once again in your chest. Trying to snuff it out, you waited patiently for him to continue.

And so he did. Baring it all to you, he decided this would be another step towards being more open with himself. Maybe you’d see him as pathetic for this, but he tried to piece the words together as congruent as possible. The feelings he had for her distinguished with the years spent apart and even some of the time spent together. This whole time he’s been sure that he just wanted to right the wrongs he did, and move on. Hopefully with you, when all this was over.

Of course you said yes. You listened, and with every word that left him, the flame within you rekindled. You weren’t sure what to say for a moment, besides giving a light laugh in relief. Even Chilchuck exhaled a brisk chuckle, scratching the back of his head in nervous habit. He’s not sure he could ever get used to this whole “telling your true feelings” thing.

But for you, he’d try.

— dividers by @/cafekitsune!! <333

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿 #trying to get better at hurt/comfort #and this may be terrible bc i’m so brain fried rn gdhfjfjhj #but i thought maybe you’d want some chil loving too :’))) #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Jim from TDS gets so fuzzy brained and dumb when he’s pounding into Y/N, because he wanted her for so long and he finally has her. he feels he deserves to have what he wants, and also making sure everyone knows she belongs to him.

Y/N could be either Jim’s son’s gf/ex-gf, Jim’s daughter’s best friend, or Jim’s best friend 🫣

Btw you’re doing such a great job with your fics!!!

Warnings: Age gap (Jim is in his 40s, reader between 18-25), p in v, Jim’s a bad dad, unprotected sex, creampie, stalking social media, mentions of masturbating, taking inappropriate photos without consent, hickies

Thank you for the request I had a lot of fun with this! Hope you enjoy!❤️

Jim was reclined in his bed, his hand massaging his hardened member while he scrolled through social media photos of you. He was completely fucked ever since the day his son brought you home and may or may not have developed unhealthy coping mechanisms that his son had what he couldn’t.

Even in his dreams he could see your attractive silhouette, continuously replaying fake scenarios of you straddling him, on your knees batting those innocent lashes up at him begging for his cock.

You had him wrapped around your fucking finger without even knowing, you were completely and utterly hypnotizing.

“Fuck y/n..” He kept replaying a video on the beach, only thing covering you was a skimpy little bikini. Jim could just imagine what was underneath, reminiscing how even when he lay in the sun tanning chair, he couldn’t help but snag a few photos when you weren’t paying attention.

Position of you bent over picking up pebbles from the sand, when you came up for air from the water, specs of water droplets painting your chest, running down your cleavage.

He needed to have you, wanted to be entangled in the sheets with you, hearing you moan his name lustfully, screaming as he made you cum.

Your body was so young, hardly flawed, and had curves in all the right places. He hated to see you leave the house but loved to watch you walk away.

In the midst of coming to his high, the door slammed downstairs and he could hear yelling, what sounded to be you.

Curious, and for caution he pulled up his pants, huffing in irritation that he was interrupted from his intrusive, sexual imaginations.

“You are such an ass! Just because I enjoyed an evening with my friends doesn’t give you the right to go out with some random girls to some party and kiss them! You’re ridiculous, did you even think about me for a singular moment?!” This was the moment Jim had been waiting for, as awful as it may sound, he wanted you two to break up. He wanted the opportunity to arise for him to be there when you’re upset, knowing that there was a chance for you two to be together.

Jim wasn’t stupid, there were many times where you “accidentally” brushed past him inappropriately, there were plenty of stolen glances and obscene gestures whenever his son Caleb wasn’t around. You wanted him just as much, but due to your relationship with his son, you hadn’t gone any further. He’d constantly have to excuse himself to the restroom to deal with the repurcussions, seeking out a sweet release.

“You’re over reacting, besides I’ve been meaning to put an end to this dwindling flame. We were never going to work so figured, why not just end it the easy way.” Jim was in shock that Caleb would do such a thing to a girl, especially you. He had taught him better than that, granted he did cheat on his mother but that was besides the point.

Hearing footsteps run up the stairs followed by a door slam, Jim poked his head out hearing your sniffles from downstairs. What kind of man would he be to not check in and ensure you were okay?

“Y/N?” You were seated on the cushioned sofa, mascara flowing messly down your cheeks from weeping, but that voice…that masculine, caring, attractive voice had your glancing up from your emotional turmoil.

Jim was standing there in his pajama pants and black t-shirt, his reading glasses tucked in the hem of his shirt while his peppery hair was slightly disheveled.

“Oh I’m sorry, I was just going to head out. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, no. Stay please. My son’s an idiot and I can assure you I didn’t raise him to be that way.” He took a seat next to you, trying to act concerned when in reality his eyes kept glancing at your thighs, the way your skirt hardly covered anything. Keep it together Jim, jesus.

The close proximity and the smell of Jim’s cologne was raising the tension, and an idea popped into your head. If Caleb thought he had the right to hurt you, you would hurt him ten times worse.

Jim’s crystal blue, alluring eyes were locked on your in a transfixed state of mind, heart pumping with adrenaline when he settled his hand on your thigh in a way to “comfort” you.

He was radiant, smart, and overwhelmingly attractive for a man in his forties. When he touched you, goosebumps formed on your skin, breath hitching in your throat. Was this a bad idea, most likely, but temptation and profound desire had a hold of you both.

“I um- I always thought you were a nice girl Y/N, and beautiful, kind, sexy- fuck what the fuck am I saying.” He wanted to hit himself for his stammering of words, rolling off his tongue without even thinking, but you simply laughed, blushing from his clear embarassment. When he tried to pull away his hand, you moved it back further up just nearly underneath your skit.

“Jim, it doesn’t bother me. I’ve always thought you were quite sexy too, I mean fuck you’re a total dilf and I’ve always imagined what you looked like underneath those clothes. How fucked up is that? My own boyfriend- well ex’s dad.” You glanced down at the floor, eyes skimming the carpet trying to find a way to justify your feelings, that they weren’t morally wrong.

Brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, he slid his finger down the length of your warm neck, gaining your attention.

There was a momentous silence as you stared into one another eyes, an immense sense of crave and desire coursing through your veins.

Closing the distance, you smashed your lips against Jim’s, hands settled on his cheeks needing him desperately. At that moment the air in the room seemed to disappear, the oxygen slowly didsapating from Jim’s lungs. He was in disbelief that this was actually happening, he was kissing his son’s ex girlfriend who he’d been masturbating to all summer long.

Your lips were soft, smoothe, and you were surprisingly good at kissing for how young you were. Unable to resist, his tongue lapped inbetween your lips as he pulled you onto his lap, his hardened cock rutting against your dripping mound desperately needing you, forgetting Caleb was just upstairs.

He held you like a woman, his hands grasping at the chubby skin of your ass cheeks underneath your skirt, roaming and massaging the delicate skin roughly.

“Fuck Y/N… you don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment…” Your lips roamed down to the crook of his neck, sucking and rotating your tongue, surely leaving a mark causing him to release a disgruntled groan.

Your hands fumbled with his belt, craving to be filled with his cock while your pussy throbbed in your panties, slick merely dripping from your cunt.

Shedding yourself of your shirt, Jim’s eyes widened from the sight of your well rounded, perfect tits, they were everything he had imagined them to be and more.

His hands grasped the jiggly skin, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head in satisfaction. Hold it together Jim, what would she think if you busted just from the sight of her fucking tits, pathetic man.  

His brain seemed to turn to a puddle, any prior thoughts lost from your hypnotizing body. He had to have you right then and there.

“Well, are you going to fuck me or not, because I really…” You trailed off you sentence, running a singular finger down his lip, eyes focused on him with a lustful gaze as you grinded against his lap, needing more.

“Really, need you inside me, my pretty pussy aches for you Jim.” Within second he flipped you onto your back, shedding himself of his clothes and tearing down your skirt and panties down in a animalistic frenzy.

He had never seen such a perfect cunt in his life, so in tact, so beautiful, and dripping for him, god how his dick was felt like it was going to burst any minute. His size took you by surprise, Jim wasn’t small by any means, his cock a good eight maybe nine inches, this was going to be fun.

Your hand grazed the back of his neck, pulling him down just so your lips brushed against his ear.

“Hope your cock is better than your son’s, wouldn’t want to be dissapointed.” He took that as a challenge, one that he knew very well he was going to win.

“My son, doesn’t seem to know how to pleasure his woman and I’m going to make sure he and everyone else knows who fucked you right.” Your eyebrow quirked up in interest.

“Well go on then, fuck me like no other man could.” Jim had never been this nervous in his life to fuck a woman, but you- you he didn’t want to leave unsatisfied. 

He didn’t even need to glance down before pushing the head of his thick shaft deep inside of you, claiming you as his.

You gasped from the sudden intrusion, nail’s scraping against the muscles on Jim’s back. He smirked satisfyingly, leaning down to kiss you once more, shoving his tongue roughly into your mouth, desperately needing to explore every inch of you, craving more and more.

He pumped quickly into you, patience being non existent, the feel of your hot, indisputably tight walls clenching to his length. Your boobs bounced with each powerful thrust. His lips trailed down to the warmth of your neck, tenderly sucking lavender marks into your smoothe skin, needing people to know who you belonged to now.

“Oh Jim, more, more, please…” Oh the velvet, captivating sound of your strained moan had his horny brain whirling, eyes merely fluttering closed from the sweet descent of your exasperated tone.

Your pussy was throbbing from pleasure, being filled to the brim like no other man had fucked you before.

Your fingers intertwined in his hair, scrunching at his gray, partially wavy hair, pressing him against your body as he fucked you relentlessly. His free hand cusped at the cushiony skin of your boob, rolling the jelly like skin.

He needed to see you in another position, he need to see himself filling your cunt.

Standing up causing you to whine from the empty feeling, he picked you up with his strong arms effortlessly as if you weighed nothing before bending you over the sofa.

“Oh!” Jim slapped your ass and pulled your head back aggresively by the strands of your hair, plumetting his cock into your heated, tight walls simultaneously.

“Fuck! Fuck Jim! Ah!” He didn’t hold back, striking deep within your aching core over and over, his balls slapping against your skin with each powerful thrust. He had never seen an ass bounce back against him so poetically and perfectly, he was nearly salivating on the mouth looking down at you bent over on display for him and only him. Watching your pussy swallow his dick with each desperate rut, god you were stunning.

Hearing you man his name and take his cock so well was sending him over the edge, his dick pulsating in you before he even had the chance to think. 

As you pounded your ass back against him, your bottom lip was becoming increasingly swollen from how much your teeth had been biting at it from the immense pleasure.

“Jesus, you’re fucking amazing, fucking beautiful, taking my cock so fucking well. Tell me who you belong to.”

“You Jim. All yours, completely yours. I-I’m going to-Ah-“ He slapped your ass cheek fiercely once more, focusing on the way you moaned his name, the way your back arched as you came undone.

Your knuckes turning white from the grip they had on the cushioned surface, toes curling from your orgasm. The euphoric, alluring sensation taking over every part of your body.

That didn’t stop Jim from going to pound town. Slamming your hips down against him, rutting desperately and bottoming out deep within your dripping, aching cunt. He wad close.

“Gonna fucking cum- want me to fill you up love. Hm? Having my cum spilling out of you like a faucet for days.” You nodded desperately moaning for him to cum at the sound of his gruff voice

“Jim, Jim, please. I need your cum, need you to paint my fucking insides white, right now. Now.” At that moment you could feel his thick cock pulsate within your core, his cum shooting straight up into your cervix.

“Fuck, fuck y/n… I’m fucking cumming.” The sweat beaded at your forhead, his own dripping down from his hair onto your back.

He had never felt a high so unfathomably pleasurable, he finally felt like he had accomplished what he always wanted- needed to. You were finally his. 

Pulling out he stretched your cunt, pulling the sensitive, reddened skin apart with his large digits, seeing the art he had created with his milky white cum flowing freely out of your alluring pussy that was still twitching from your orgasm.

Caleb turned and twisted in his bed, the constant strange sounds keeping him up. Deciding to investigate, he grabbed the bat from his room before making his way downstairs only to be blindsided with his own dad intertwined with his now ex-girlfriend whom was covered with hickies on her neck

“What the fuck is this?! How did this-How could-“

“That’s how you treat a woman son. Maybe take notes because let me tell you, she’s a keeper this one.” You smirked on the couch, nuzzling your nose against his chest being fully happy with your decision to sleep with your ex’s father. He was already proving to be more of a man than Caleb ever was.

“Ready for bed love?” Jim held his hand out for you, wrapping his robe around your shoulders while Caleb stood there fuming at the actions of his own father and you, disbelief that you’d go this far, making him question if you ever really gave a shit about him or just dated him for his dad.

#Jim #jim tds #jim x reader #jim x you #Jim tds x reader #Jim tds x you #the delinquent season imagine #ranaewrites #requested

[butmakeitgayblog]

Can I flip the anon question? What are those moments where CI Lexa finds Clarke adorable? :3

Honestly when Clarke is just being entirely too much Clarke for anyone's own good lol

Because see, on the flip side, Clarke is an extremely tactile partner. Clarke is the wife who kisses and holds hands everywhere they go. Who will curl herself up into Lexa's side like a little mangy cat desperate for love. Who will just open herself up whenever Lexa feels like silently crawling into her lap and draping herself all over Clarke for no reason other than to feel close. Clarke's loving side with her is kind of their baseline, so it's when she does things that surpise Lexa that really grab her attention.

Something as stupid as Lexa being gone for a business trip and aching for that familiar touch that usually fills her days, so in a moment of weakness she texts "I'm in a meeting that's so boring I want to kill myself. Entertain me, my darling? Send a video of you pleasuring yourself. I want to watch."

It's her favorite thing to do in these stuffy meetings. The baited breath and anticipation making her antsy, crossing and uncrossing her legs because Lexa truly hates being patient when it comes to watching Clarke get off.

Only to click open the goddamn video... and find her wife sensually eating a slice of fucking pizza, making those obscene moans and biting her lips and licking her fingers like its the most erotic experience of her life.

And it's so stupid. It is so fucking stupid, and yet such a perfectly asshole-Clarke thing to do it has Lexa hiding a smile behind her fingers so that the very boring businessmen peppered around the conference table don't realize that she's not, in fact, just the emotionless cutthroat head of the Woods' Empire. That she's actually just a woman hopelessly in love with the same fucking idiot who has kept her on her toes every day since the first second they met.

That's what does it for Lexa. Because Clarke is a lot of things: ruthless, cruel, unyielding and filled the most delicious kind of ill-intent. She loves more fully and wonderfully than she gives herself credit for, and is forgiving even when Lexa's not sure if she deserves it. But what keeps Lexa falling in love over and over again, what makes Lexa's heart pound, is the brightness in her. The silliness, the funniness, how clever she truly is. It's the playfulness that she keeps hidden behind the darkest pieces of her heart that only Lexa is ever allowed to see

#anon #cruel intentions au

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #1] Purple Starfuckers

warnings: alcohol, clubbing

soundtrack: bad decisions - bts, passionfruit - drake, promiscuous - nelly furtado & timbaland

wc: 3.5k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 

"Don't think of it as a bad decision. Think of it as a lesson learned. Something to remember for next time."

The way Hoseok looks at you is borderline comical - face all scrunched up, mouth hanging ajar. He's scowling, but it isn't new. He's had a face like a slapped arse all evening. Kinda goes with the territory of a fresh break-up, mind you.

"You don't seriously believe that?" He scoffs, before swallowing his words down with the rum and coke that he's been nursing for the past fifteen minutes. It tastes like shit, and is far too strong - but he's the one who asked for a triple. No one else to blame

The bartender had raised his pierced brow, told Hoseok that he's "not allowed to do that" - but had offered to make him a double and pour a separate shot, instead. "What you do with that shot is up to you," the bartender had shrugged - and so Hoseok had poured it straight on in. 

You finish your own drink with a roll of your eyes and shake of your head. "What I believe is that she wasn't 'the one', Hobes. Was a lucky escape, if you ask me. She was fucking vile to me and Danbi."

"You guys just didn't get to know her proper-"

"Hobi, she wore white to Jungmi's wedding," Danbi interrupted. Truthfully, she could not have cared less for how badly Hoseok's ex had treated her - it was when she started behaving badly around other people, embarrassing them in the process, that she started to take offence. If there was one thing Danbi had, it was pride. "WHITE! Who does that?! Poor Jungmi. She's a better woman than me. I'd have fought that bitch on the spot, right in the aisle. Don't care if it's my wedding day, when bitches deserve a slap-"

"Dan," you laugh but try and get her to quiet down, knowing that Hoseok is still reeling from the break-up. As true as her words are, he doesn't need to hear them right now. Turning to Hoseok, you stroke up his shoulder tenderly, with a soft smile on your glossy lips. 

You didn't cover yourself head to toe in glitter just to sit in the smoking area of a shitty club all night. There's fun to be had.

"Look, Hobes, it sucks that things ended the way they did -" a screaming match over the price of asparagus in the middle of a supermarket, that was totally an argument about something more than that, but Hoseok is still in denial - "but not everything we lose is a loss. Okay? You've still got us."

Which is admittedly more than he deserves after how much of a shitbag he'd turned into during the relationship. He'd go days, weeks - hell - sometimes months, without getting back to you. You and Dan had been fine - you had each other after all - but it still sucked not having your third musketeer with you. 

"Now c'mon," you smile. "Get that drink down you, and get that pretty ass of yours on the floor. We both know you're dying for a good dance."

"I don't feel like it," he groans - but he downs his drink regardless, and is dancing to a noughties classic within five minutes. 

You think it's Nelly Furtado - it is - but you're so drunk that you can't really place it. It's the kind of song that everyone knows; the kind of song that gets everyone's hips moving just right. Bodies are hot and sweaty, the clammy dancefloor a pit of sin. To you, though, it feels like heaven at that moment. This is all you've wanted for months. You're holding Danbi's hands, Hoseok between the pair of you, unable to escape and not really wanting to, either. He's smiling, and it's the best thing you've seen all night. 

The lights of the club beam down on you, pinks and blues reflecting the satin dress you're wearing. It's short, barely covering your ass, and silver. Picked out especially for a night like this; when attention is welcome, but not necessarily encouraged. You think you look like a trophy. Maybe someone will be lucky enough to win you. Maybe not.

From the bar, Jeon Jeongguk thinks you look like a little disco ball. 

He's wiping a tumbler dry, fresh from the glass washer, making most of the lull in customers coming to the bar. There are only three of them behind it, and it always makes Friday shifts feel that little bit more hectic. 

Dionysus, a club just on the outskirts of the party district, is always busier on a Saturday, so he prefers Friday shifts. A relatively small club, it has only a single dancefloor and a bar area with a few seats. The back entrance leads to the smoking area, which is where he'd first noticed you coming from with your friends. There's nowhere to hide, really, in a club like this. If you're in Dionysus, everyone knows about it. 

Especially the bartenders. 

"What do we reckon," Yeonjun, the youngest of the crew, smirks at Jeongguk as he nods towards you and your friends. "They all going home together, or what?"

A little air squeaks through Jeongguk's lips as he purses them, trying to get a read on your little trio. The way you're moving your hips towards the dude in the middle certainly seems a little more than friendly. At least, if a girl he'd never met before was dancing with him like that, he'd take it as a good sign he was getting laid. 

What makes it interesting is the fact that there are two of you. You in silver, another girl in black. Both pretty. Both incredibly different, but both captivating nonetheless. Like a pair of shooting stars, he thinks, cracking through the crowd at a vibrancy that could blind. Is a little confused as to how the fuck you aren't being pestered by other guys - doesn't complain though. Makes for a clear line of vision.

It's nights like these which make Jeongguk wish he worked a normal job. He misses out on all the fun always being behind the bar, he thinks. Does also save him from making some bad decisions that he knows would surely haunt him. If anything, he should be thankful.

"Fuck knows," he simply says, closing the glasswasher and whipping the towel over his shoulder. "10,000 won says he's going home alone."

Yeonjun smirks. "You're on."

It's less of a bet for Jeongguk. More of a manifestation. He likes watching you dance. Doesn't like the thought of you dancing with the dude by yourself. Doesn't like the idea of you leaving with him, either. Considers the fact that maybe you're not even interested in dudes, and that it's the girl you're holding hands with who you'll be leaving with instead. He's less intimidated by that - at least your disinterest in him would be preference based - but it's still not his favourite scenario.

It's not like he knows you, nor will he ever know you. He just likes to live in the what-ifs. They're always so much safer. Can't get rejected if you don't put yourself out there.

And so he carries on with work just like he should, serving the next punters who stumble to the bar. He pours them a water with their order, because lord knows they need it, and laughs when someone tries to pay for it thinking it's a vodka lemonade. 

"On the house," he shrugs, letting their drunk minds believe it really is a vodka lemonade. Easier that way. Will get them drinking water, at least, even if just for a sip or so before they clock on.

You're laughing, a little out of breath and not entirely steady on your feet, as you head to the bar. 

He'd been so busy with the last customers that he didn't even notice until he saw you using the bar to help steady yourself. You aren't looking in his direction, but up at the row of spirits behind him, trying to sus out what you fancy. 

Your hair is dark, up in a ponytail with grown-out bangs framing your face. The makeup you've been wearing has faded, melted off from the heat of the club, but the glitter remains. You really do look like a disco ball, he thinks. It makes him smile.

"Hey, sorry," you beam towards him, eyes just as sparkling at the glitter dusted on your collarbones. He raises his brows, expression open, receptive, as he moves closer to the bar. "What's something that can get me fucked up but also tastes delicious?" 

Oh, how he loves a challenge. He licks his lips and tilts his head to the side. "What do you qualify as delicious?"

"No passionfruit," you say almost instantly. "So no pornstars." And then you gag a little, to emphasise just how much you hate passionfruit.

"No pornstars, noted," Jeongguk says as he pulls an imaginary pencil from behind his ear and pretends to jot it down on his palm. He looks back up at you, and doesn't bother fighting the way his teeth bite down on his bottom lip - why would he? You're giggling. He likes it. And he also knows you're probably drunk, so won't remember this interaction in the morning. 

"Well, I mean, none of the drinking variety," you grin, tongue in cheek. "If you happen to know any of the human variety, send them my way."

He almost chokes on his own spit. The shock in his eyes has you laughing again.

"I'm joking, you idiot."

Although you kind of totally aren't. You haven't been laid in a while. You'll take anything with a pulse who is interested at this point. 

"I knew that," he bluffs, and looks back down at his palm as if he's reading again. "Okay, so no pornstars - pornstar martinis. What else?"

"Don't like orange juice."

"Do you like anything?"

You like lots of things. So many things that your brain can't think straight, actually.

You like the way a tattoo is peaking out of his shirt sleeve. You like dancing with your friends. Being drunk. His smile. The way he's joking with you. The knowledge that Hoseok is probably doing the robot as you speak. Sunsets. The chain around the neck of the man in front of you. Those cute tiny straws he puts in some of the cocktails. Him.  

But you narrow your eyes, and ignore your brain. "Alcohol." 

He narrows his eyes right back. Purses his lips. Looks down at his fake notepad, then back up at you. "I think I have just the thing for you."

Reaching for the plastic cups which you know are reserved for water, you almost look offended. Does he not think you have eyes? Are too drunk to know he's giving you water?

He places it in front of you and smiles, lips together, eyes round - but still challenging you.

"It's water," you tell him, and he nods. No denial.

"Uh-huh. Cleanse your palette first."

"Are we fine dining?"

"We aren't doing anything," he assures you. He's on the clock. "But everything tastes like shit after a smoke, so if you wanna enjoy it, have some water."

Your brows furrow together, head tilting and then you're self-conscious. "Do I smell like smoke?"

You'd doused yourself in perfume and had been chewing on gum to hide it, but apparently not well enough.

Jeongguk shakes his head, realising how much wider your eyes are. You don't seem as confident. You're not smiling anymore. 

"No, no," he says quickly and nods toward your clutch, which is propped open on the side of the bar. A packet of cigarettes are sticking out slightly, a lighter tucked into the side. "I just guessed - sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean, no. You don't. Not at all."

You follow his gaze, and find yourself smiling. Small misunderstanding. That's all. But he seems just as panicked as you had been. It's sweet. 

"Fine," you elongate your response and let your eyes narrow again, to let him know you're ready to banter again. "I'll drink it - but whatever you're making better be good."

"If you hate it, it's on the house," he says, knowing that you won't hate it. He sets about making your drink as you sip on the water, not really watching him because you're trying to focus on not falling over. Water actually seems like a great idea. You're thankful for it. 

When Jeongguk returns to your spot by the bar, he can't stop blinking. The glass of water - an entire pint - is finished. You're smiling, lips a little wet, eyes a little hazy.

"Thirsty," you shrug. 

He checks your jaw to make sure it's not grinding, but it's perfectly still. Not a gram of MD - the drug of choice in Dionysus circles - in your system. You just really are thirsty - had been dancing all bloody night. He knows this, but he's naive to how hot it is down there. Hasn't actually been on the dancefloor himself in a while. Always working.

He accepts your defence, and holds up the shot in front of you. It's tiny, and pretty, all purple and shimmery. 

Jeongguk smiles. "Purple Starfucker."

The water you've just finished almost comes back up through your system. "Sorry?!"

"Purple Starfucker," Jeongguk simply repeats. "Amaretto, peach schnapps, a little curacao and cranberry juice. Fucking delicious."

You do love all of those. It's the ideal drink for you. You've never had it before, but you know it's gonna be good. He places it down in front of you, but that challenging look is still in your eye. 

He laughs a little. Can't figure you out. Has no idea what you're thinking. "What are you waiting for?"

"Nothing," you grin, picking the shot glass up by the rim, raising it with a nod. "To Purple Starfuckers."

Jeongguk nods back. Toys with his lip piercing, the tip of his tongue peeking out ever so slightly before he bites down on his lip. "To Purple Starfuckers."

From his peripherals, Jeongguk can see Yeonjun leaning against the countertop at the back of the bar, watching him with a curious smirk.

Un-fucking-believable, Yeonjun thinks. Reckons Jeongguk is trying to fuck with the bet. Trying to lure Disco Ball away. He doesn't hear the conversation, but he can read your lips - 'Holy shit? That's fucking delicious? How much do I owe you?' - and watches the way Jeongguk shakes his head. Hands too. Shrugs. Bloody git is giving it to you on the house. 

10,000 won ain't that much, but Yeonjun doesn't like losing. "Oi, Disco Ball. Get your friends"- he nods towards Hoseok and Danbi. -"We'll make you a round."

He ignores the way Jeongguk's eyes burn into him, knowing that his shit-eating grin is enough to wind Jeongguk up. They love each other really, but in a way you'd love a sibling. Fully capable of hating one another, too. 

You glance up to Jeongguk, almost as if you're asking his permission. You kind of are. You trust him. He's been kind. This other bartender? He's a bit louder. Far brasher. And he'd called you Disco Ball? The fuck?

Jeongguk nods. Doesn't want you to leave, but equally knows the only reason you're looking at him like that - eyes all wide and innocent - is 'cause you're drunk. Doubts it would be the same if you were sober. When he comes to think of it, he'd rather you were with your friends. Safer that way. "Hurry. Before we get really busy."

And so you scurry off, running on the balls of your feet to avoid awkward heel mishaps. There's something endearing about it and it's almost enough to distract him from Yeonjun's taunts. 

"If he doesn't take her home, I will."

"She's fucked," Jeongguk tells him, voice stern, eyes still on you. Fucking around with punters isn't against the rules, but taking advantage of drunk girls? Yeah, not on his watch. Doesn't matter who it is. He's seen enough creeps and enough girls in tears because of them to know when to step in. "You're going nowhere near her."

"I clock off in an hour," Yeonjun reminds him. Jeongguk the one who's closing the bar tonight. "Plenty of time to play catch up."

Yeonjun - brilliant, blue-haired, and with enough boyish charm to seduce almost anyone - isn't a creep. He looks up to Jeongguk. Respects him. Follows his lead. Would never take advantage of a punter. He just likes winding Jeongguk up a little too much. 

Jeongguk ignores him. Doesn't put it past him. While Yeonjun likes to think he has values, Jeongguk knows he's just as horny and desperate as the rest of the fuckers in the bar. 

That's not to say Jeongguk is discounting himself from the generalisation - he just actually does have morals. To some degree, at least.

You're on the dancefloor for no more than thirty seconds, dragging Hoseok and Danbi with you to the bar. They complain and moan - "but I love that song!" - though as soon as they're faced with a tray of shots, their moods shoot up. You go to pay Jeongguk, but he shakes his head.

"On the house."

"You're trying to get me drunk," you accuse with a knowing smile.

"You're already drunk," he smiles right back. It's not his goal. It's a fairly quiet night. If anything, this is entertainment. Not like there's much better for him to be doing. Not until his friends drop by later, at least. "I'm just a nice barman."

Part of you wants to protest. He's covered in tattoos - his hands, the ones peaking from his shirt at the wrist and the neck - and has more piercing in his ears than you do. There's a stud in his brow, and a ring on his lip. It's his eyes though, that you think scream danger the most. They're deep and they're dark, and you know better than to trust them.

And yet when he smiles like that, your tummy feels all fuzzy in the same way that your head does.

"Well thank you Mr Nice Barman," you nod and curtsey, because that somehow feels appropriate. 

"Jeongguk," he corrects, before knocking his head to the side and nodding towards the dancefloor. "Go enjoy your night, trouble."

Not too much, though, he thinks to himself, but watches as you bounce back to the dancefloor with your friends. 

The drinks were a small gesture, but one that he knows will have made a difference to their night. No skin off his back. He likes doing things like this. You're not the first, likely won't be the last - but he spends a lot longer than usual quietly observing you as you get on with your night. Doesn't notice the smile on his face.

Yeonjun does, though. Chooses not to say anything. Knows when to pick his battles.

Does warn him when he sees Jeongguk's friends bundle in through the door, though. "Watch out boss. Same as usual?"

Jeongguk nods, and Yeonjun sets about making a round of drinks for the usual suspects. Three malibu and cokes, one rum and lemonade and four purple starfuckers. Jeongguk'll make those. They're his signature. 

"Look what the cat dragged in," he grins towards his friends, all a little worse for wear. Bleary-eyed, they're smiling and joking, having come from dinner - which turned into drinks, and then more drinks and then - fuck it - clubs. Dionysus is always the final stop. They like the atmosphere; like the free drinks even more.

"You know us," Park Jimin grins at him in the sleazy way he so often does, which lets Jeongguk knows he's up to no good. "Where the pussy goes, we surely follow."

"Speak for yourself," Namjoon snorts beside him, a little more sober than the others. Taehyung and Yoongi are engaged in their own conversation - something about the Samsung Lions and baseball strategy that Jeongguk doesn't care much for. "Quiet night?"

"Fairly," Jeongguk nods - which can only mean one thing. Same thing it means every week. 

He'd always thought that by the time they hit their mid-twenties, they'd be over this lifestyle by now - but his friends like to make just as many bad decisions as he does.

"Round up boys," Jimin cheers, his voice booming above the bass of whatever noughties classic is on. "Purple Starkfucker time!"

Jeongguk laughs. Shakes his head, rolls his eyes. Unfolds his defensive arms. Glances up to the crowd - but you're lost to the night. Maybe not forever, but for now, at least. 

And so he just nods, and cheers along with them.

"Purple Starfucker time."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

#by holly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk #jungkook x reader #jeongguk fanfic #bangtan #jungkook fluff #bartender!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #jeongguk fic #bad decisions #dappleddaisies

[lightlycareless]

uuu just imagine reading manga with naoya in bed while being cuddled up together <3<3

Hello!!!

Ok so this is sweet—kind of domestic amirite? oof. I love me some domestic Naoya when he's nothing but a loving husband. akgfhaksjghkjaghjkashgjas and a nerd too ahahah awww anyways...

warnings: very tiny mentions of smut. implications really. fluff outside of that.

happy reading!!

Imagine it being a cold snowy day where Naoya doesn’t have to go out on missions, tend to clan responsibilities, or anything else.

A day where he can simply spend his time in nothing but his favorite, deserving things, such as catching up with his favorite series, enjoying a well-deserved break from all those countless missions, and of course, spend time with you—his needy wife who didn’t hold back from letting him know how much she missed him.

“What would you like to do today?” is how the days would begin, with you peppering endless kisses across his face while the two snuggled underneath the sheets.

“Hmmm, I feel like spending the whole day in bed.” He sighs, kissing the top of your head. “The new chapter of the manga I told you about came out yesterday, and I want to read it.”

“I’ll make breakfast, then.” You smile, ready to push yourself up from the futon and rush to the kitchen—though Naoya had something else in mind too.

“What’s the hurry, my love?” he murmurs, pulling you back to him. “Going away from me so soon? I just came back…”

“N—No, of course not… I could never!” you blush. “I just… just wanted to make the best of today, you know? Please you.”

“You know, there’s one thing that will immediately please me.” He breathes against your ear, you shudder.

“…I still have to get your bath ready.”

“Can’t see why we can’t do both.”

You press your lips together, heated by his words.

“Ok, but we can’t get too distracted—I still want you to enjoy your day! You rarely get to rest as of lately….” You pout, he laughs before leaning to give you a kiss.

“With you by my side, there’s no way I cannot.”

After that is done, followed by a relaxing bath and a delicious meal prepared by you—Naoya insists in only being fed by you, not the staff; you happily oblige—you’re quick to take your place by his side on the futon, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and rest your head against his chest while his free hand holds up one of his favorite magazines, the one that publishes his favorite anime of the moment.

“I read they had to reprint this issue solely because of one mistake. Nothing too big, but apparently big enough to have the whole publisher pull out the magazine…”

“Gee, that must’ve been quite the task—And to allow it too! Is the author that big or something?”

“Kind of, he’s the best seller at the moment.”

“No wonder, if he’s not happy, that means no business for them.” You sigh. “I wonder if the change is even noticeable.”

“I don’t know, but that’s what I’ll figure out now—they usually point it out anyways.” Naoya squeezes you against him, kissing the top of your head.

“Well, that’s sounds like a wonderful plan!” You grin. “And if you get hungry, or want something to snack on, just let me know and I’ll bring it to you.”

Naoya blushes.

“I love you.”

It’s your turn to blush.

“I love you too.”

The rest of the evening would go on that way, with Naoya reading his manga, eyes intently fixed on the panels while murmuring to himself whenever particularly interesting scene occurs, if not scoffing when a character does something stupid—just as he did in real life; both gestures that you found incredibly cute, how relaxed he is when doing things he loves.

And though he was very focused on that, he was still attentive enough to your presence and gestures, hands and lips looking for yours whenever you reached out to him or vice versa, as well as allowing you to feed him, careful enough to not distract him that much.

Because you just couldn’t snap him out of trance, you know? He looked so adorable!!

Although it would turn a bit… too much soon enough.

“I don’t—I don’t want anything else, Y/N—” he protests when you try to shove another piece of popcorn into his mouth, going as far as moving away, but you simply stuck to him.

“Come on, you have to eat!”

“Not to this point!” Naoya gasps, stomach full to the point of exploding! Of so it feels. “I don’t—I don’t want anything else!”

“Tough luck, Naoya—If you didn’t want me to spoil you, you shouldn’t have stayed home!” you giggle, and Naoya just relents, because he can’t do anything else when he’s putty to both your adorable charm and insistence, his beloved wife.

A side of Naoya that fortunately, is just for your eyes to see.

I just realized that Naoya was the kind of guy to say: "I want a wife that is submissive, that is only attentive to me and knows her place and yadda yadda yadda" until you came along and he was like "ok I like that but... I also want kisses...."

Idk I just keep thinking he's very desperate for affection hahaha call it ooc I DO NOT CARE I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM. 😶😶

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this small thing 🥺❤️ him getting all flustered because you're always so caring to him is AGH healing!!! We could literally change him...

Now, thank you so much for sending in this ask ❤️❤️❤️ take care and hope to see you soon!!!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

[otherworldlygate]

Once again it's Regal appreciation hour by which I mean day by which I mean year by which I mean lifetime.

I was very much prepared to not write any fanfiction this year, but I cannot divorce myself from how awesome my favorite Symphonia blorbos are and so I am writing yet another stupid fanfic. I feel feral about these characters in general but Raine gets quite a lot of attention (because she's wonderful, obviously) so I don't want to focus on her too much. Regal, on the other hand, has been underappreciated in the ToS fandom since the game's release day, so I must advocate for him.

I've been RPing as him for the last year or so, and together my RP partner and I have written about 320,000 words of a story. I'm having a blast, and a big part of that is because Regal is, despite the flaws in the storytelling of ToS as a whole surrounding him (and how all of the Tethe'alla characters kind of fall flat), a rather well-conceived and implemented character. Yeah, his clothes are dumb (I'm happy to retcon that outfit with zero regrets) and the game blows through his story at such a breakneck pace he doesn't get the space or the arc he deserves (he should have taken his shackles off as part of his 'sacrifice' to fight the angels), but he is a genuinely fascinating character who feels, just like many of the others do, as if he belongs very specifically in the world he was created for.

I know a lot of people like to write him as this sad sack of shit just absolutely lost in the grief sauce (see the part about how he didn't get the arc he deserved), but I think that's a mistake. See, the biggest bump in the road for Regal was his lack of understanding of what was happening and why. When you think about it, he was faced with having to kill Alicia seemingly out of nowhere. Like one day he's just minding his business and the next Alicia is gone and very quickly after that she's a monster trying to kill him AND HE HAS NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT IS GOING ON. He has no answers. All he knows is that he killed her, and his autistic* brain latches onto that detail because it's all he has.

You have to think, too, about the fact that the game gives him nobody. His parents are dead. George, the only person even remotely close to Regal--someone he's known his *whole life*--betrayed him. (George didn't mean for things to go Like That and he's sorry he did it, but HE STILL DID IT.) Regal doesn't have friends and the extra material makes it clear that he was literally raised, specifically by his father, to be a workaholic. Do you think anyone came to see him in prison? He fought in a coliseum for his life for YEARS. He was on friendly terms with some of the other inmates but the guy had eight years to just sit there and get stuck in the loop of knowing he killed the one person he'd let himself get even remotely close to.

Which is something else people always downplay for some reason. The shit with Alicia isn't just "guy is sad because he killed his girlfriend." It's very much, "guy was born and bred to take on the family legacy" except in this case the family legacy is a company, an island, a noble bloodline, and also the absolutely insane idea that work and profit is all that matters. Everyone else is out to get you. Keep the workers dissatisfied but keep them hooked just enough that they'll never leave. Take no time for fun or friends or merriment. Everything in your life is a business transaction. Don't ever forget it. It's us vs. them. You're alone and you have to make this your entire life or it'll all fall to pieces and it will be your fault.

The drama cd in particular really honed in on that way of being raised and it makes his entire character make complete sense. At a relatively young age his father died and he ended up on top (though it's stated he had to work as a CEO before he was elected via a board to the position of President). Having no other guidelines other than what he was taught--and what George himself adhered to--Regal followed that path...until he ended up miserable, because, despite the way he was raised, he's a goddamn empath**.

After literal YEARS of occasionally running into Alicia and talking to her, he starts forming a connection to her--which is important because he's never allowed himself to do this before. And at one point he realizes he doesn't even know her name...which comes as a surprise to him...and brings with it shame. After this, he starts living for himself. He listens to his employees--something his father never did. He starts enacting rules to protect his employees, particularly from things that would hurt them in the field, because part of what was making him so miserable was wrestling with the empathy of their terrible working conditions on top of just hearing his father's manta repeating itself in his head all the time.

I cannot stress enough how important this is. Alicia, despite being a love interest and someone he was interested in seriously dating and perhaps someday marrying (the details of their relationship are never known but it's almost more tragic if they were just starting to be serious), WAS STILL HIS EMPLOYEE.

He was supposed to protect his employees. He was doing so much to ensure his employees would be safe. And then he killed Alicia.

Alicia, the one person he allowed himself to get close to.

Now, consider the fact that he was raised as a tool and not a beloved son; he was not allowed to have friends and not allowed to make merry. He was under his father's thumb until his father's untimely death--a death, by the way, that only surprised him with its suddenness; he did not grieve that man!! Regal, as a 25-year-old man, had ZERO coping mechanisms. All he had was the truth he was raised under and the fact that he went against that truth AND WAS NOW BEING PUNISHED FOR IT. How can someone like this think of anything except that they are the reason George was put in a position where he had to get rid of Alicia? That the only reason Alicia was experimented on and turned into a monster was because of her connection to Regal?

IT MAKES ME FEEL SO FERAL!!!

The events of the game open his eyes to the ACTUAL truth, to what actually happened AND WHY IT HAPPENED TO ALICIA. In the end he learns he had NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. If he had not befriended and started falling for Alicia, she still would have died--it's just, if she hadn't had a more direct connection to Regal, who knows where she might have met her end. Alone, forgotten? At least someone knew her as she was; at least someone can tell Presea the kind of person her sister was.

The ToS fandom has always loved joking about how Regal's just into punishment as a kink or whatever (and I'll never forgive the shitty non-canon-in-my-heart sequel for leaning so hard into that angle, fuck you fuck you fuck you) but let's be serious about it for a hot second. Yes, I think learning this information puts him on a better path, but you can't erase 8 years of self-loathing and fear instantly. Did you guys really think this man would just forget about the darkest years of his life and start frolicking in fields of flowers?

The trauma he's endured goes so much deeper than "I killed the person I loved," and boiling it down to that really does the character a disservice. The "born for a specific purpose, not allowed to exist outside of that purpose" bit is also given to Colette and Zelos, but while their role is being a sacrifice whose only use is dying or procreating to continue the line to have more sacrifices (absolutely also traumatizing btw), Regal's situation feels a lot more like indoctrinated religion and, very specifically (and no I am not kidding), religious trauma. Again, he endured that very controlled lifestyle complete with a mantra from birth into his early 20s, and the MOMENT he broke away from it too far, his life came crashing down around him in a very painful and traumatizing way.

Now, you might think the religious trauma parallel is unfounded, if not also the indoctrinated religion aspect of it, it could just as easily be a parallel for an abusive and controlling relationship, right down to the betrayal from someone who is supposed to have your best interests at heart the moment you step outside of that control to the feelings of shame and self-loathing and "you did this to yourself."

So whenever I see people joking about what a sad sack of shit he is or whatever, I'm just astounded, especially if it's coming from someone who loves literally any other character in the game. Like, you'll definitely have your blorbos, and I totally understand if Regal just ain't it for you, but I find it really disconcerting that someone might find (for example) Yuan's trauma deeply meaningful but see Regal's as stupid or silly.

I'm pretty sure I started this post to talk about how easy it is for me to RP as Regal because he's just such a great character to sink into and write about, particularly because I like to imagine that, starting in the post-game, he deeply regrets some of the choices he's made in his life, and, rather than lean into the things that have already transpired, he seeks to do what he can to better the world around him with the resources and power that he has.

It's like the ultimate fuck-you to the way his father raised him. He's not wasting the skills he's developed, but he's also not using them to hurt people or for personal or Lezareno profit.

I think most of us love writing about characters who have to work through their trauma, but there's an extra layer here that I particularly enjoy with Regal. With Raine I'm all about her inability to trust easily and her struggle to feel truly comfortable around other people, but with Regal I think it's maybe specifically related to the fact that he has had a lot handed to him that he didn't necessarily want, and his self-sacrificing nature lends itself to him feeling obligated to take it. I fully believe Regal would be happier and better off stepping away from Lezareno and from his family's toxic ass legacy*** (or at least not working it full-time as the acting President) but I can't ignore the fact that...these things are all he has and all he knows. So writing about him attempting to get back into the swing of things, maybe struggling to find time for himself, falling into workaholic patterns by mistake, learning to set boundaries between his private life and his job...all while not being fully satisfied and finding more fulfillment in charity work and other pursuits, just makes him feel like a very well-rounded character. Like...it's believable that he would continue to work a job he didn't particularly love specifically because not only does he not know anything else, but he knows with this position of power he can make a lot of things happen that would be impossible if he just twiddled his thumbs on the sidelines--like financial assistance going to Palmacosta, or his duties as a nobleman to try to get better laws passed in Tethe'alla, etc.

This was a pretty clumsily-written post and for that I am truly sorry. I've just been absolutely insane lately thinking about Regal and I had to get some of why I think he's such a wonderful character out into the world.

:)

*this is just my headcanon but a lot about Regal screams autism to me.

**this is canon as far as I'm concerned. I wrote him this way far before I ever heard the drama cd, and the drama cd just solidified it for me tenfold.

***there's a scene in the hotel with Lloyd I think where Regal says his family's legacy on Altamira started when Tethe'alla flipped over to being a flourishing world last, which means they were in a position of power great enough to build an empire on Altamira already at that time (800+ years ago). I don't want to get into how awful this probably was or how evil the family was because I think you can all imagine that for yourselves. Also, nobody ever mentions the fact that Regal is the last of his family line, but it's a very convenient built-in control tactic to guilt someone into doing as they're told or risk bringing shame to a family that's been going strong and unbroken for over 1,000 years.

#regal bryant #tales of symphonia meta #tales of symphonia

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Bloody Beetle | Part Ten

Summary: buckle up folks, it's the final showdown

Pairing: Steven x reader, Marc x reader, Harrow x reader, Layla x reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: fighting, deaths...

A/N: as always spelling and grammar are not my strongest skills so please be kind :)

Part Nine | Series Masterlist

- - - - -

Layla’s POV 

She wants to stop you from surrendering yourself, she knows it’s dangerous. 

But she also knows neither of you have time to think of another plan. 

As soon as you step out from behind the wall she wastes no time in sneaking over to where Osiris’ avatar is and pulls him to safety. 

“Hey! hey, hey…” She says as she tries to keep him upright and conscious. “How do we stop Ammit?!”

“This chamber is our most powerful place.” He wheezes. “From here we need to imprision Ammit in a mortal form.”

“A body instead of a statue. She’d be vulnerable… okay, how do we do it?” 

“We need more avatars than we have left…” he says before collapsing to the ground. 

“No, no no!” Layla tries to wake him, but when she checks his pulse she realises he’s gone. She thinks for a moment, pondering her options. Reluctantly she summons Taweret and agrees to be her temporary avatar. 

“I am so thrilled! We are gonna have so much fun together.” Taweret says excitedly. “I have a fabulous costume in mind.”

The sound of Harrow’s shout bounces off the walls, getting Layla’s attention. She peers around to watch. 

Harrow is stood in front of you protectively, talking to Ammit. Almost pleading with her. 

“What could she possibly do in the future that is so bad that she deserves this?”  

“She will be the one to kill you.”

Ammit’s reply sends the room silent. A few disciples spare glances at each other but no one dares make a sound. Layla notices the heartbreak on Harrow’s face. 

She watches as you try to stand, try to reason with Harrow, convince him Ammit is lying. 

She watches as Harrow turns to you, and reaches out to help you up from the floor.

She watches as he drives a dagger deep into your stomach and she has to fight with herself not to run over and kill Harrow herself. She knows with Ammit behind him he is too powerful for her to fight alone. 

She watches as everyone just steps over you, leaving you to die. Not a single one of them even pausing for a moment to consider helping you. 

As soon as they’re out she runs to you, calling your name. You manage to roll over and look at her and she sees the moment the last bit of life leaves you. Your body going still, eyes glassing over as you lay limp on the ground. She crouches next to you, checking and double checking for a pulse. Begging you to wake up, to not leave her alone. 

But that’s what she is now… Alone…

Marc is dead. You are dead. Without anyone to help her, she’s sure she will be next.

— — — — 

Y/N’s POV 

“Where am I?” You ask aloud, glancing at the bright white nothingness around you. “Steven? Marc? Anyone?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” A voice calls from everywhere at once.

“Hello?” You respond. 

“I am Osiris, god of the underworld.”

“…okay…” 

“I have granted you resurrection but I ask something of you in return… Become my avatar.”

“Uh, look I don't think I'm really the person to be asking. I don't know how to be an avatar, I don't even really know what it means… I just know that Marc said it’s bad. Like being a slave? And I really don't want that-”

“You won’t be a slave, you will be powerful.”

“I’m sorry, but my answer is no. And if that means you have to send me back to the Duat then… I accept my fate.” 

“I admire your honesty and bravery Y/N. But we need more avatars than we have left if we are to defeat Ammit.” Osiris speaks calm but firm. “Take the powers that come with being my avatar, use them to defeat Ammit and when the job is done I will take them back from you. I will expect nothing more from you. You may continue to live your life free from any burden.”

“So just like, a temporary deal? Right?”

“Yes.”

“And once Ammit is dealt with, I can just be normal again?” 

“Yes.” Osiris pauses. “Do you accept?” 

“I do.”

— — — — 

You gasp as you sit bolt upright on the cold stone floor of the pyramid, making Layla jump. 

“Y/N?!” She says, grabbing your arms to ground you as you flail around in a panic. “I got, I got you.”

You take deep breaths, clutching your hands to your stomach. You lift your shirt and watch in shock as the wound from the dagger closes itself, leaving you fully healed. Any weakness left from Harrow’s staff is gone too. You feel amazing.

“What… what just happened?” Layla says, wiping tears from her face and staring at your stomach. She helps you up off the floor. “You were dead!” 

“Osiris healed me.” You say, in shock yourself. Then you notice Layla’s outfit. Her mundane clothes from before gone, replaced with a gold and white Egyptian armour. “What are you wearing?” 

“Taweret chose it.” She says before explaining how she agreed to be her temporary avatar. You in turn explained the deal Osiris offered you. 

“Well, you look badass.” You say and she laughs. “Wait, if I’m an avatar too now, does that mean I get a costume too?” 

A bright light swirls around you and when it disappears you’ve changed. No more blood soaked clothes. Instead you're wearing green armour, similar to Layla’s, with white and gold fabric wrapped around your body. Attached to your back is a long golden staff with a hooked end. 

You look down at your clothes in amazement, then up at Layla. The two of you look at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. You don't really know why you're laughing, but after the stress of the last few days it feels like a welcome break. 

“So, what do we do now?” You says once you composed yourself. Layla sighs, shaking her head. 

“I guess, we try to save the world.”

— — — — 

The two of you head outside. To your surprise the sky is as dark as night, even though you're pretty sure it’s still daytime. The sky is filled with purple lights, flying up from across the city and towards the other side of the pyramid where Ammit is. 

“She’s consuming souls.” Layla says as you watch horrified. The more lights she swallows the bigger she grows. She’s already almost the same size as the pyramid.

“How are we supposed to stop her?!” You ask, looking around frantically. You look up at the top of the pyramid. Harrow is up there, a purple glowing light surrounds him as he chants in a language you don't recognise. 

Before you can say anything, someone flies up to the pyramid and begins to fight Harrow. You recognise the person to be the same as the action figure you found in the museum, dressed head toe in white.  

“Who is that?” You ask Layla, turning her attention to the scene on the pyramid. 

“Marc?” She gasps before turning to you. “Did Osiris resurrect him too?” 

“I- I don't know. Maybe? I didn’t see him after we made it through the gates-”

You stop talking suddenly when you notice Khonshu appear next to Ammit. He goes to hit her with his staff but she reaches out a scaly hand and stops him. They begin to fight as Harrow and Marc fly though the air toward the town, still fighting each other. Khonshu manages to knock Ammit over and she comes crashing down near near you. The force of her slamming into the pyramid sends a cloud of dust and sand over you and Layla. 

“Little bugs.” Khonshu says when he notices he almost flattened the two of you. “Go! Help Marc.”

Layla rolls her eyes at him as she wipes dust from her clothes before turning to you and nodding. You run away from the pyramid in the direction that Marc and Harrow had gone. 

The streets are chaos. Everywhere you look Ammit’s disciples are grabbing people, judging their scales. You watch as Bobbi grabs someone. They begin to shake then fall to the floor as a purple light emerges from them and flies up into the sky. Those who aren’t distracted staring at the dark sky are running, screaming, from the disciples. As you begin fighting off disciples you notice Marc laying on the ground on the other side of the town square, Harrow stood over him with his cane pointed down at him. It starts to glow purple. 

Layla swoops in just in time and knocks Harrow away. He fires purple light from his cane at Layla, but she reflects it with the golden armoured wings attached to her arms and it bounces back at Harrow. It sends him flying backwards into a crowd of people. 

You knock out the guy you're fighting and run over to Marc. His face now uncovered and he spots you over Layla’s shoulder as he’s hugging her. As you get closer his clothes change to a white three piece suit.

“Y/N!” Steven’s voice calls happily as he hugs you tightly. His hand finds the crook attached to your back. “Oh my God, that- that’s Osiris’ crook! Oh that’s bloody brilliant that! Wow!”

“Steven I know this is a massive deal for you but we have to stop Harrow.” You say, smiling at him.

“Right yeah, sorry you just- you look amazing!” He smiles, turning to Layla. “You both do.” 

You hear a scream and turn to see a woman with two young children being cornered by a group of disciples. 

“I’ll go. You two get Harrow.” You say and Steven places a kiss on your cheek before he and Layla run into the crowd and begin fighting. 

You run the other way, grabbing the crook and using it to pull the first bad guy away. You swing him round and send him crashing into the side of a nearby building. The others turn on you, but you effortlessly manage to dodge their attacks and one by one knock them all out. You help the mother and her children find somewhere safe to hide before turning your attention back to the others just in time to see Harrow fighting Marc. 

“You need only remove one weed from the garden. You!” He says, purple light blasting from his cane at Marc.

Marc grabs one of his crescent moon shaped blades but Harrow uses the power from his cane to control Marc’s hand. Layla runs toward them but Harrow sends the blade flying at her and it pins her arm to the side of the truck, before sending a huge blast of power at Marc, forcing him down on his back. On a building above them you see Ammit has also overpowered Khonshu, pinning him down with his own staff. 

Harrow advances towards Marc and you run, throwing yourself in between them.

“STOP!” You shout and Harrow looks at you like he’s just seen a ghost.

“Y/N..?” He says breathlessly. “You’re-”

“Alive? Yeah, I was surprised too.” You say sarcastically. “Why are you doing this? You told me you wanted to stop her!”

“That was before…”

“Before what?”

“Before I knew you would betray me!” He shouts, hitting you with a flash of power from his cane. It knocks you flying out of the way, rolling across the dusty ground. You feel like the wind has been knocked from you as you lay on the ground trying to get your breath back. Harrow advances on Marc again, raising his cane and slamming it into his chest. Purple light streams up through the cane, killing him slowly. 

“NO!” You scream, scrambling to try to get up but a heavy boot comes down on your back. Bobbi stands over you, keeping you down, forcing you to watch. You look over at Layla, she’s surrounded by disciples, using her golden armoured wings to deflect the bullets being fired at her. 

Marc turns his head to look at you before his eyes turn white. 

You can’t really describe what happened next. Something takes over Marc and sends him into a killing frenzy. He’s unstoppable as he takes on multiple disciples at once, slaughtering each one without breaking a sweat. He turns to you and you feel Bobbi remove her foot from your back. She backs away but Marc throws a blade at her and it lodges itself in her forehead, killing her instantly. He locks eyes with you and you don't recognise him at all. That’s not Marc anymore, and it definitely isn’t Steven. He winks at you before taking on Harrow. It doesn’t take long for him to overpower him. Its only as he’s about to kill him that he freezes, his posture changing. He drops Harrow’s unconscious body and looks around in horror at the war zone around him. 

“That wasn’t you, was it Steven?” He says and his suit changes. “Not a chance mate.” 

He looks at you and you get up, dusting yourself down as you make your way over to him.

“Are you alright?” He asks, placing his hands on your face and checking you over. 

“I’m fine, I’m more worried about you.” You reply.

“Marc?” Layla calls, freeing herself from where Harrow had trapped her. Steven changes back to Marc. “What the hell was that?”

“I blacked out.” He says. He looks genuinely worried. 

A rumbling from the building next to you draws your attention to Ammit dragging Khonshu away. 

“Get Harrow!” Layla says “I know how to stop Ammit.” 

— — — — 

Marc carries Harrow and you both follow Layla back to the tomb in the pyramid. Once inside Marc throws Harrow down on one of the stones.

“The power of the room will help us bind Ammit to Harrow’s body.” Layla explains. “Quick grab my hand so we can start the spell.” 

Marc takes Layla’s hand and you take Marc’s. The three of you start chanting the spell in an ancient language, the words must be given to you by the gods because you have no idea what you're actually saying. A circle of light fills the tomb, surrounding the three of you and Harrow. Purple light descends down into Harrow’s body as the spell works. Harrow gasps awake, his wild eyes looking at the three of you. 

“You can never contain me!” Ammit speaks through him. “I’ll never stop!”

“Do the honours, little bug.” Khonshu appears next to you and hands you the same dagger Harrow had earlier used to kill you. “Finish it! Leave neither of them alive.”

You look at the dagger, still stained with your own blood and feel anger boil inside you. You step up to Harrow, grabbing him by his collar and pulling him up to face you. His bright blue eyes stare into your own. 

“Do it.” He croaks. He looks utterly defeated, ready to accept his fate. 

You lift the dagger high, ready to plunge. Then you hear Ammit’s words from earlier.

‘She will be the one to kill you.’

You hesitate, thinking over those words. If you kill him now that means she was right about you. 

“While he lives, so does she.” Khonshu’s words ring in your ears. 

While Harrow lives, so does Ammit. Trapped in a mortal body.

“I said I wouldn’t kill you and I meant it.” You drop Harrow back down on the stone and throw the dagger to the floor. “There are worse fates than death.” 

You turn your back and walk away.

“Weak little bug.” Khonshu mocks but you ignore him. 

Layla takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“I have to finish this.” Marc says suddenly, taking one of his blades and readying himself to stab Harrow. “If not I’ll never be free.”

“Marc!” Layla shouts. “You have a choice. You are free!”

“The choice is vengeance! We cannot take the chance that Ammit finds a way out. She will kill again.”

“Now you sound just like her.” Marc says, throwing his blade away. “You want them dead, do it yourself. Now release us!”

“As you wish.” Khonshu says before disappearing. 

Marc’s suit starts to disappear, a bright white light shines out of his chest and fills the room. For a moment you’re blinded, and when the light fades you find Marc on his knees. His normal clothes have returned. You and Layla go to him, crouching beside him.

“Marc? Are you okay?” Layla asks, full of concern. He looks at her and nods.

“He’s gone.” He smiles. “Thank you for stopping me.”

“What do we with him?” You ask, looking over at Harrow still laying on the stone.

“Lock him up.” Marc replies. “He’s killed so many people there’s no chance he’ll never ever be released. He’ll be locked away until the day he dies. And then Ammit will be gone too.”

You can hear Harrow incoherently babbling away to himself, and you feel a sort of sadness creep in.

“You did the right thing Y/N.” Layla says, noticing the frown on your face. 

“Then why do I feel so… weird?” 

“Love…” Steven’s voice instantly makes you feel a bit calmer and he places his hands gently on your face, forcing you to look away from Harrow. “Hey, look at me… You died today. And then you came back. And then you helped save the world from a giant crocodile lady.” He says making you laugh. “That’s a lot to take in. You're allowed to feel weird. In fact I’d be worried if you felt normal after all that.” 

“I know he did some really awful things but I- I almost kind of feel sorry for him. Is that wrong?” You admit and Steven smiles lovingly. 

“That just proves even more that Ammit’s scales were wrong about you. You are a good person with a kind heart. It’s one of the many things I love about you.” 

He moves his hands to hold yours and you give him a small smile. 

“Thank you.” You share a kiss, before remembering Layla is currently watching you kiss her ex husband. You pull away, giving her an awkward smile. “We should probably get going.” 

“Yeah…” Steven laughs, picking up on the awkwardness of the situation. “Back to good old London town. Get this guy put away… behind bars… where he belongs…”

“Guys it’s fine.” Layla says, laughing at Steven’s awkward rambling. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Are you sure?” Marc’s voice again. He walks closer to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I know I wasn’t the best husband. You deserved so much more.”

“It’s okay Marc, honestly. We’re better as friends.” She smiles a genuine smile at him. “Besides, I’ve decided I’m staying here in Egypt.”

“What?” You say, moving to join them. “You’re not coming with us?” 

“While we were fighting out there, a young girl asked me if I was an Egyptian superhero and it made me realise, we didn’t have anything like that. But now we do. I’m going to stay here and work with Taweret to give more young Egyptian girls someone to look up to.” She smiles. “Plus, England is too cold anyway.”

“You got that right.” You laugh as you give her a tight hug. “you are gonna be the most badass superhero ever. But I’m gonna miss you.” 

“You too.” She says and turns to Marc. “Look after her, or you’ll have me to deal with.” 

“Yes ma’am.”

— — — — 

Some Time Later

You headed back to England with Marc and Steven taking turns to take the body. Though you knew Steven best, the more time you spent with Marc the more you enjoyed his company too. 

Ammit’s presence in Harrow’s body meant he became more and more mentally unstable. He spent a lot of time rambling incoherently and occasionally Ammit would takeover, shouting about how she would escape and make everyone pay. Because of this, Harrow was admitted to Sienkiewicz Psychiatric Hospital in London. 

A few days after Harrow was committed, you went to visit him. You don't know why, you just felt like you needed to be sure he was safely locked away. When the nurses first brought you to him, you almost didn’t recognise him. He was sat in a wheelchair, his ankles restrained to it. He looked lost, vulnerable. It made a part of you feel quite sad. 

“Hi Arthur.” You say quietly. He looks up at you blankly. 

“He’s on quite strong medication, so he may not talk very much.” The nurse explains and you nod. “I’ll just be on the other side of the room, shout if you need me.”

“Thanks.” You reply, watching her as she goes to sit with another patient on the far side of the room. You sit down at the table opposite Arthur. “How are you doing? Have you settled in here?” You ask but get no response. You start to feel awkward. You look around the room, trying to think of something to say. You glance down at the table and see paper with some lines painted randomly on it. “Did you paint that?” Harrow looks down at it and nods. “You enjoy painting?” He nods again. “How about we do some together.”

You grab two more pieces of paper, putting one in front go Harrow and the other in front of yourself, and you start to paint. Harrow joins in and the two of you sit quietly together making your own little pictures. 

When your picture is done you show Harrow and he smiles at the simple flower you have painted. He shows you his, just a triangle. 

“It’s good.” You smile. 

“It’s a pyramid. Like the ones they have in Egypt.” He says, slowly sounding more like himself. “Have you ever been?” 

“To Egypt?” You ask and he nods. “Yeah I’ve been, with you. You took me there, remember?”

He stares at you for a long moment, a flicker of something like hurt flashes on his face, and then he goes blank again. You try to make more conversation, but he doesn’t say much after that. 

Not long after the nurse comes back and tells you visiting time is over. You slide your flower painting across the table to Harrow. 

“You can keep this.” You say smiling. “Goodbye Arthur.” 

You get up and start to walk away. 

“Y/N!” He calls, making you stop and turn back. “I’m really sorry I killed you.” 

You didn’t say anything back, you just nod at him as the nurse leads you out. 

As you sign yourself out the nurse speaks to you. 

“That is the most alert and talkative we’ve seen him since he arrived. You must be someone important to him.”

Her words replayed through your head for the rest of the day and that night as you sat down to eat dinner with Steven you told him about it. 

“I’ve been thinking, I might go back and see him again.” 

“Really?” Steven asks. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

“You didn’t see him today Steven, he’s different. The dangerous man that we knew is gone. Now he just seems so… lost. I guess a part of me feels responsible for that.” 

“Love…” Steven sighs, putting down his food to fully concentrate on you. “Harrow is where he is now because of the things HE did. The choices HE made. You gave him plenty of chances, even after he murdered you!” He reaches across the table to hold your hands. “Listen, Marc wants me to tell you not to go but I know that will make you want to do it even more.” He says and you laugh, nodding. “If this is something you really want to do, if it makes you feel better, then I think you should do it. Just, please be careful.” 

“I will.”

The following week you head back to the hospital and do some more painting with Arthur. It soon became a regular thing. The more you visited the more chatty he became. He started to tell you about life in hospital, sharing stories about the other patients and in turn you told him about your life. Although he initially looked hurt to find out you and Steven were now dating, ultimately he said he was happy to see you happy. 

If you hadn’t known him before, you wouldn’t guess this was once the leader of a cult intent on releasing a dangerous Egyptian goddess into the world. You’d never guess how much damage he had caused just weeks ago. And you’d certainly never guess that dangerous Egyptian goddess was now trapped inside him. There were hints occasionally that Ammit was trying to take over, to shout abuse at you, but Harrow always made sure she couldn’t hurt you. 

You didn’t talk about what happened in Egypt, you didn’t want to drag it all up again. He wasn’t the same person now anyway. And at least he’d apologised to you. Instead you chose to give him a fresh start, and just enjoy your weekly visits talking and painting with Arthur Harrow. 

—

—

—

—

—

Epilogue

One morning you woke up to a voice in your head. 

Osiris’ voice. 

“The deal is done. I release you from your duty.” 

“What?” 

“Ammit had been defeated.” 

“Yeah, but that was weeks ago.” You say, not understanding why he’s waited till now to talk to you. “We imprisoned her in Arthur Harrow’s body and they’re both locked up.” 

“I release you from your duty.” He repeats and you feel a strange sensation move through your body. Then nothing. 

“Osiris?” You call out, but no reply. “Well that was weird…” 

“You alright love?” Steven asks as he comes into the bedroom and hands you a cup of coffee.

“Osiris just released me.” You say confused as Steven sits on the bed next to you. 

“Well that’s a good thing innit?” He replies with a smile.

“Yeah, definitely. It’s just… why now? Why this exact moment instead of when we bound Ammit or when her and Harrow were first locked away? What’s so special about this morning?” 

“Osiris is a busy guy, maybe he didn’t have time until now. Or maybe you're just thinking into it too much…” 

“I just think it’s a bit odd that’s all.”

“That’s the gods for ya, all a bit odd. I don't think us humans are supposed to understand ‘em.” 

“You’re probably right.” You say before taking a sip of your coffee. “Anyway, where did you disappear to this morning?” 

“What do you mean?” Steven asks blankly. 

“I woke up in the early hours and you were gone.”

“I don't remember going anywhere… Marc?” He shifts and Marc speaks “Don't look at me. I thought we were sleeping all night.”

“Do you need the restraints back on the bed?” 

“Only if you want them back” Marc says flirtatiously, flashing you a mischievous grin. He shifts again and Steven comes back. “Oy, back off you.” He says to Marc before focusing on you. "I probably just went to get water and don't remember. Don't worry about it.” He kisses you on the forehead. “Right, I’ve gotta get to work, laters gators.” 

“Laters.” You laugh, and blow him a kiss. He mimes catching it and putting it in his pocket before leaving. 

You decide to put the Osiris thing out of your head. Steven’s right, there’s no point trying to understand the mind of a god. You finish your coffee before you get out of bed and get ready for the day. 

In the afternoon you head to the hospital as usual, and are surprised to see police cars parked outside the building. As soon as you step inside the nurse you’ve become used to seeing comes over to you.

“Y/N, please come with me.” She says, leading you into a small side room with a police officer inside. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Please take a seat.” The officer says and gestures to the chairs. You sit down in one, the nurse sits next to you. 

“What’s going on?” You ask, getting nervous.

“Miss Y/L/N, earlier this morning someone came into the hospital, murdered three members of staff and left with Arthur Harrow.” 

“What?! Who?” 

“We don't know yet. The CCTV cameras were damaged. All we have is a few eye witnesses who say they saw a smartly dressed man wearing a flat cap wheeling Harrow out of the building.” The officer explains, and you feel your heart start to race. If Harrow is out then Ammit could escape. The nurse notices your breathing has picked up and reached over to hold your hand. “I’m sorry, I understand this must be distressing. Harrow is your friend, correct?”

“Uh… yeah…” you reply, trying to focus on what the officer is saying and not the panic running around your head.

“According to the sign in sheets you’re the only regular visitor he has. Do you have any idea of who could have done this? Or why they would have done this?”

You search your brain for any options. The only people who really know who he is are yourself, Marc, Steven and Layla. You definitely didn’t do it. Marc and Steven wouldn’t have done it, and you can’t imagine Layla would have. You realise the officer is still looking at you for an answer. 

“No, no sorry. I- I don't think he has anyone else.”

“Here, take my card. If you think of anything give me a call.” The officer hands you a small business card and the nurse leads you back out the room. 

“Are you going to be okay? I know you’re quite close to him.” She asks, noticing how shook up you are she places a gentle hand on your arm. “Do you want me to call someone to pick you up?” 

“I’ll be fine, thank you though.” You smile at her as you reach the door out the building. “You have my number, will you please let me know if there’s any news?”

“Of course. Take care Y/N.” 

You head outside, and cross the street to where there’s a small park. You find an empty bench and sit for a moment to process the news and what that could mean. Who could have known Harrow was there? Who could have wanted him out? Maybe there’s another Ammit fanatic out there who wants her released? 

A shudder goes down your spine at the thought of her getting out. 

You take your phone from your pocket and phone Steven. It rings out. You roll your eyes and try Marc’s number instead, incase he’s got the body right now. They have separate phones and refuse to answer each other’s if it rings. His goes straight to voicemail. That’s unusual. You check the time, 4pm. Steven will probably be getting ready to leave work. 

Needing to talk to someone you FaceTime Layla, she picks up almost straight away. 

“Y/N! Hey!” She says happily, her smile drops when she see’s your face. “What’s wrong?” 

“Hey, uh… sorry to call I just, I need to talk to someone and Steven and Marc aren’t answering and no one else will understand-”

“Y/N, you don't need to apologise. What’s happened?”

“Harrow’s gone.” You blurt out and she stares through the phone at you. “Someone took him from the hospital this morning, they don't know who did it and they have no idea where he is. I’m scared, Layla.”

“Hey, alright, it’s going to be alright.” She says, though her voice has a hint of panic. “And you can’t get through to Marc?” 

“His phone is off. I think Steven will be leaving work soon.”

“Okay, you head over to find him. I’ll keep trying his phone.” She says and you nod. “Y/N?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It’s gonna be okay.” She says and you get the feeling she’s trying reassure herself as much as she is you. You nod and she hangs up the phone before you start walking toward the road, looking for a taxi. 

In the distance you see a white limo heading towards you. Usually you’d think nothing of it. You see a lot of different vehicles in London. But something about this one got your attention. The personalised number plate. 

‘SPKTR’

You can’t help but stare at it as it gets closer to you. Something in your gut telling you to run. 

The car slows down as it gets closer to you and you can just about make out though the windows that the driver is wearing a flat cap. The limo pulls over and stops next to you. The driver gets out and you stare at him confused. 

“Marc…?” It’s definitely Marc’s body, but the expression isn’t Marc or Steven. It’s the same one you recognise from Egypt. The one who so easily fought and killed all Harrow’s disciples. Another alter?

“Hola, mi amor.” 

He winks at you as he walks around the front of the car, past you and opens the door at the back of the limo for you. He gestures for you to get in. You hesitantly walk to where the door is and peer in. You have to slam your hand over your mouth to stop a scream from escaping. 

There on the back seat is Harrow, a bullet hole in his forehead. 

You back away but the driver pushes you inside and slams the door closed. You scramble to get out, to get away from the corpse, but the door is locked. You bang against the door, screaming for someone to let you out and then you hear a voice from inside the limo. 

“Hello little bug.” 

A/N: Thank you so so so much for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed this series as much as I loved writing it. please feel free to comment or send me an ask, I would love to hear your thoughts :)

Taglist :  @sleepylunarwolf / @ahookedheroespureheart / @sleepyamaya / @spicydonut25 / @kult6 / @uncle-eggy / @malaanii/ @toracainz / @pinkiestwinkie / @galacticstxrdust / @mateihavenoidea / @xmariakx / @oscarissac2099 / @whycantwebefriendz / @parkeepingparker / @scoliobean

#moon knight #Steven Grant x reader #Marc Spector x reader #moon knight x reader #layla el faouly x reader #layla el faouly #Steven grant #marc spector #khonshu x reader #osiris #Arthur Harrow #arthur harrow x reader #ammit

[xxchromies]

Toxic Tumblr Communities

Tumblr is a very interesting place. I feel like women have always dominated this website. While it's a great place for women to express themselves, it's obviously created a lot of really toxic communities that in all honestly could probably only be created by women. You know exactly what the fuck I'm talking about. You've got communities that normalize harmful behavior (self-harm, anorexia, drug taking) and communities that normalize harmful relationship dynamics (the teacher crush and true crime communities, the ddlg community, the kink community in general, etc.), all kinds of different shit. I won't deny that these are all really harmful in their own ways. BUT I can't stand the way many people talk about them.

It's not uncommon for people to make YouTube videos talking about these communities, and totally eviscerating the posters without showing a single shred of empathy, despite most of the posters being depressed, isolated, and traumatized teen girls.

When it comes to the communities that revolve around toxic behavior, I kind of hate how the posters are treated as if it is their fault and their fault alone for other people picking up on the behaviors. If someone looks at thinspo or a SH picture and is like "YES I want that!" did the post directly create those feelings? Or maybe JUST MAYBE the person viewing the post was already mentally ill and now they just become encouraged to be a part of a community with people they relate to? Also I kinda hate how people accuse these posters of "romanticizing" the things that they do, I really don't think it's true most of the time. I think what happens is that women are conditioned into always wanting to appear beautiful, and so they want even their pain to be beautiful. Which is why they then write "sadgirl" poetry about cutting or whatever. I also think it's a coping mechanism. If you're going through something difficult, the least you can do is be poetic about it. I also think that a lot of the times it's a cry for help. It's common to make fun of the emo girl who cuts for attention but even if it's for attention she's still hurting herself.

There are also communities that "romanticize" bad relationship dynamics. When it comes to the teacher crush community, I honestly don't think it deserves the hatred it gets. 99% of the posters have no plans to actually get with their teachers. In YouTube videos about this community, they often respond to the rare posts where underage girls gush about how their high school teacher reciprocates their love. The YouTubers blame the girl for posting about the situation and "romanticizing" it, rather than blaming the fucking adult male for taking advantage of a high schooler. It's abhorrent and I can't stand it.

The true crime community is less defensible, but even then, most of the girls do not support violence, it's more so a fantasy of being able to fix a evil man. And I honestly think it's reflective of the way society tells women and girls that they are responsible for men's feelings and actions, even the very worst of them. And pretty much all the posters are either depressed and isolated teen girls or 30-something year old women who have a history of dating violent and abusive men. When people criticize this community, there's something about the way they do it that's almost victim-blamey, idk. I won't act like what they're doing isn't harmful to the victims, but people act as if drawing the Columbine dudes being yaoi boyfriends or whatever is just as bad as the fucking shooting itself.

And the ddlg community on here mainly seems to be fronted by "littles" who roleplay as underage children having sex with their parents. Again, this is a baddd thing to be encouraging, even if it's through role-play. But I HATE how people act like pretending to be the little is the same as pretending to be the adult. All these girls are fantasizing about roleplaying sexual abuse and idk about you but they really do seem like victims to me. This is not a pass for them to promote harmful behavior but again I just hate the double standards. These people are turned on by being victimized and people somehow don't feel any sympathy for them. They act as if it's the EXACT SAME as being turned on by victimizing others.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I HATE how the standards for women are so much higher than they are for men. Women will post about the pain they are causing themselves, and society gets angry with them for daring to be upfront about it and/or trying to make it seem "beautiful". Women will post about how they want to be victimized, and society gets angry at them for promoting toxic relationships, while not offering them a shred of empathy and asking WHY they want that.

Idk I have a lot of thoughts on this. I'm not saying these girls are completely blameless and I really don't want it to be interpreted that way, but it's crazy to me the way people act like they are heinous and evil (and not like, victims of patriarchal conditioning) for romanticizing situations where they would be victimized.

#radblr #radical feminism #radical feminists do interact #am i being clear lol #just yapping

[wren-kitchens]

there’s not enough lizzie ldshadowlady appreciation in this fandom and frankly I think we need to rectify this

she acts terrified of absolutely everyone except her husband, whom she is increasingly exasperated by. she and ren were rivalling dogwarts with their interactions. she was boogeyman twice in two different seasons and essentially did the exact same trap, that failed in essentially the exact same way, and somehow she still managed to get the kill because the person was too confused to process the fact they were being stabbed. she’s a fairy. she’s the shadow queen. she’s totally definitely pearl, she just has an amnesia cold. she spends half her time complaining about her husband, and the other half flirting with him in front of people. her dogs were named dragon, ogre and taxes so they’d be intimidating. ‘and so I left this world how I entered it: confused.’ she griefed the server. jimmy killed her.

#i’m bad at this kind of post but idc #I love her #yes she was only in one and a bit seasons so what #mumbo was only in one season and he gets more love #lizzie deserves so much more attention than I see on here #not traffic life related but she mADE A WHOLE MUSICAL #I FEEL LIKE THATS IMPORTANT TO NOTE HERE #she’s an icon #I love her and I need her in the next season and I need her to team up with pearl because I think they’d be incredible together #lizzie ldshadowlady #ldshadowlady #trafficblr #traffic smp #traffic series #last life

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#its so weird. i feel like march 5th went on for more than a day somehow. i guess that's just bc we were awake for just abt all of it #my dad wanted to start doing things immediately so he was calling and scheduling all day. we went to the funeral home we went to the store #and it was weird bc as we were moving around it was like wow we r a 4 person family now. this is it. and theres so much to do after a person #dies. or at least there is when they were loved so much and jesus christ my mom was one of the best ppl a LOT of ppl knew. she did so much #for so so many ppl. and with her childhood she had every reason to b a fuck up but no she was kind and selfless and amazing. her mother is #trying to bask in the attention of her death when its like: truely go fuck urself. her being such a good person has nothing to do with u. u #treated her appallingly. fuck off. and fucking everyone knows it. god. she is a product of her grandparents kindness. and it sounds like her #dad was amazing like her. but he tragically died in a car wreck when she was 3. she was in the car. no one in my mums family believes in a #god now. too many bad things happened to the shining gems in a collection of wild alcoholics. but its not all bad. my family's staying close #my dad is taking it hard bc this means hes alone now and my mum took care of so many things bc she was so smart and he feels so dumb. he #feels he didnt deserve her. hes working on giving more hugs now. and hes using us to anxiously talk things out the way he did with mom #which is good. i cant imagine if this happened when we werent 3 adults and he was windowed with 3 kids to raise himself. and its funny. were #saying things we never would have told her. we looked thru pictures of her and she was so so beautiful. a total smoke show. my parents were #a cute couple who produced cute kids. and my mom had trouble communicating and being affectionate tho we knew she loved us there was #distance. theres a pic of my dad pulling her close and shes being tippef towarf her while standing away and thats indicitive of their #relationship. they were 2 partners who lived together independently and that worked but its sad bc my mum couldnt b vulnerable in her #expression. ppl r being so kind tho. ill be in ohio now for like 2.5 more weeks as the funeral stuff shakes out. we have to have 2 bc she #grew up away from her and so many ppl loved her in both locations. she was a popular lady. its so weird to b here on pause. but i feel clear #in my head. i think this will change a lot of my outlook on life. its nice to focus on the person she was and not the horrible 12hrs where i #saw her half dead. i cant imagine how awful it was for my sisters and dad to see her downslide into death. she didnt expect this to b The #Fever that killed her but it did and now she'll never finish a million things. and the house is full of pill bottles and all her junk and #unopened amazon packages and a truck with the fuel left on empty. bc she was an absent minded goofball. ay. well miss her so much #unrelated

[astro-b-o-y-d]

I also said it before but I cannot find the post, but there's probably a very specific reason people are quicker to sympathize with Pacifica over Gideon and/or focus more on giving her redemption than him and it starts with an f and ends with a phobia 🫤

#Hayley Speaks #'I just don't like him because of how he treated Mabel' Pacifica also treated Mabel like shit #Just because it wasn't the same kind of terrible doesn't mean it's not terrible #I'm sure people do have legitimate reasons for favoring one over the other #And in all honestly they are both very interesting and flawed characters #But it's like. Hmm. #Why is so much attention given to redeeming Pacifica over Gideon #This is also not a jab at Pacifica herself; she deserves more attention for sure after the narrative didn't do her justice #But you know #We can spread our efforts out methinks #Also at the end of the day Gideon is like nine and does have the potential to change #The hatred for him is. Understandable in places but Odd in others. If that makes sense

[meviesdust]

#she deserved so much better #i hate how d2 ended #“omg he made me eyes green he loves the real me !!!!” #she needed someone to be patient kind and accepting of her #someone who paid attention to her and didnt show her off like a show pony #anyway #jigsaw by conan gray #mal bertha #descendants

[god-of-a-thousand-demons]

Ann really held the torch for brain cells in the first half of the game she was the one who paid attention to madarame’s name and did research on him and yusuke and she has a lot of moments where she notices something no one else sees or makes a connection the rest haven’t come to yet it’s like wow she’s so smart and capable without her this group would’ve collapsed she’s really the spearhead for them at first because ryuji joker and yusuke don’t care and Morgana often gets distracted and doesn’t have the willpower for follow through like she does

#og #destiny p5 replay #I love ann so much she’s the glue honestly she’s friends with Al of them really well like obviously they’re all friends but if they were to #come to members of the group for help it would be Makoto and joker for technical stuff futaba for a different perspective and haru for #emotional support but ann would be the one they felt comfortable bringing up stuff in front of the group because she’s so supportive and #kind she honestly breaks the ice and all of them are really really close to her she is all of theirs best friends tbh she’s their princess #as thehre her knights I love imagining ann as the center of the group she deserves all the attention and devotion she’s the best ❣️

[the-busy-ghost]

Benefits of audiobooks- I can listen to them while I work, and I am forced to hear and consider every word, rather than read at my usual flying pace, which means I don’t miss things as much and get a deeper and more sustained enjoyment from a really good book

Disadvantages of audiobooks- When there are emotional details they aren’t blunted by the fact that my uncontrolled eye is already skimming the next passages and there are some Emotions that are not appropriate for working hours

#The Woman in White #Because Mrs Clements saying 'I made her first short frocks' broke me #And yet if I'd been reading a physical copy of that passage I'd probably have flown through it without remembering that sentence at all #Also the bit where Hartright says that Anne is buried in a place that Mrs Clements would have chosen for her herself #Was very upsetting #AND to top it all off I've just gone back an dlooked up the passage again and there's a sentence about how #Hartright 'is certain that she was not neglected in her last moments' #WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT WALTER #Ok so she had medical attention and all the kindness that strangers could give her #But she died in a strange place confused as to why she was there surrounded by people who only wanted to use her #and the one person in the world who loved her not only didn't know where she was but never heard of her death until Walter told her #At least I suppose when he says that he means it as a comfort to Mrs Clements and that's totally fair and valid but still #Honestly I quite enjoyed the book but Anne Catherick deserved so much better than a single line on a tombstone #Maybe I'm just susceptible to statements about people who died without their loved ones near them for personal reasons #And I know it's a very common occurrence and even in the Victorian era when many people died at home it was common then #But poor Anne deserved better #Anyway also proof that audiobooks count as 'real books' #Because even though I don't always count them towards reading challenges I actually find that I pay more attention #and get a lot more out of fiction books at least than if I'd been reading them in a physical copy #Non-fiction is a different matter but I learnt to race through novels at an early age and just eat them up without much mulling over them #And it's hard to control my eye even when I'm trying to savour a book #So audiobooks actually make me read more carefully and sensibly #Perhaps the main disadvantage is I never know how the names of people and places are spelt #Especially if the narrator has an accent #reading log

[cantofworms]

.

#should I write a drblr manifesto ahaha I promise it’ll be super #reminiscent and thoughtful and praise filled ahaha #not at all bitter and angry and overwhelmed and #fucking disgusted at some the weird ass people ahahahahaha #hmmmmmmm should I do that should I should I bc it was an epic time right !!! so epic so fun !!!! sosooooooo girly blogger parasocial girl #girl love everyone’s so nice and kind and we’re all a big happy family pls guys we’re the best !!!! #we deserve to take back the tags we’re all soooooooo normal ahahahaa right !! #we should all definitely live blog and bring hundreds of people to attention of this fucking criminal accusation that has nothing to do w #us bc we know nothing at all like what do we have to lose we’re all secretly aware of eveything pertaining to American law and how libel #work and and and and and and OH you know what we should DEFINITELY DO is ask BLOGS what our moral stand point should be !!!!!!!!!!!! #pack it up guys hari said dream bad and she knows him so much she’s basically his pr manager ahahaha #so silly but actually this random Girl behind a screen w a blog dedicated to mcyt should for sure be giving us constant updates of shit that #can’t be proven with thousands of other forces at play that !! we have no control over !! and never did !! and never wil !!!!!! #ahahaha also VERYONE needs be talking about this and doom posting and throwing around serious terms cause it’s not a big deal ahahaha !!! #dtblr is only three girl bloggers in a trench coat nothing matters and while not influence OTHERS on their opinion in the matter !!! #who also don’t know Jack fucking shit !!!!!!! same as us !!!!!!!!!!!!!! #surely this will have no remaining impact at least not on myself which is all that matters :( #I miss the community sm :( I can’t believe literally everyone is still here just w slightly altered blogs :( #but at this was a wake up call for me ahahaha I’m stepping back I was soooooooo crazy back then ahaha #so happy I realized #my evil ways and I can only better from this situation now god bless #anyway now I will go on and continue to post sad memes on my Beand New Blog and missing and mourning things…… #hashtag sad hashtag girl #OH and also maybe repent my sins a little thro reblgoging someone’s else’s manifesto woopsy !!! ahaha #I don’t agree w %100 of op but this is how I’ve been feeling !!! #I definitely over reacted and contributed to a mass echo chameber of extreme anxiety and toxicity which will forever stain a large majority #of an alresdy massive fandom that’s constantly under hate !!!! oh well ahaha #at the end of the day things will never be the same….. did you hear me I SAID the community while NEVER come back #people are SMARTER now and wil CONTINIE to post their THOUGHTS because what we need more of is GIRL BLOGGERS OPINIONS because there’s NOT #enough to go around tag limit these r my thots if anyone cared ahaha ^_^