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angeldreamsoffanfic · 1 year

Text

part two of this original ficlet

It’s a couple days later when Robin Buckley is in Steve Harrington’s bedroom when it fully hits her. That this boy, not much older than she is- is her best friend. There’s a million universes out there, Robin is one of the ones who believes in that fully and completely. Every little change splitting off and dividing, creating and creating and creating.

Robin, however, can’t even begin to imagine the universes where she doesn’t know Steve. Doesn’t know him fully and completely and as absolutely wholeheartedly as she does. Can’t imagine that there are galaxies where she doesn’t know him as well if not better than herself sometimes.

But he’s hers here.

“Do you want to move in?” Steve’s question is soft spoken, and Robin is quick to turn to catch his eyes in her own. He’s leant up against his desk, a Rubik’s cube in between his fingers. His head is cocked slightly, eyebrows furrowed as his eyes and Robin’s meet. “Rob?”

“Yeah?” Robin allowed herself to grin, a shy and slow curve of her lips, even as she pushed her statistics homework off of her lap. Steve nodded once then twice, a sharp bob of his chin that was so firm it almost caused his chin to make contact with his chest. “You want me to move in with you, dingus?”

“Yeah,” Steve murmured, soft and sweet, before he tossed the Rubik’s cube toward Robin. She didn’t catch it, she never could really, but it did land in her lap- completely solved. Robin plucked it into her hands, set about messing it up again, so Steve could solve it. “I wanted to ask, since I know you’re eighteen now and-”

“And since my parents still think all of this was an earthquake?” Robin supplied knowingly, before she threw the Rubik’s cube back to Steve. He caught it from the air with his left hand and shyly nodded, before he set about solving the puzzle cube once more. Robin is quiet for a second, just before she continues on. “What about yours?”

“My parents?” Steve asked with a slight furrowed brow, his head cocked slightly to the side. Robin let out a soft hum, though nodded when she saw that Steve hadn’t heard her well. “They uh, aren’t coming back to Hawkins, Rob.”

Robin felt her heart lurch as she rubbed her palms along her jean clad thighs, brow instantly taut as she eyed Steve. He had diverted his eyes, eyes now focused on the way he moved the Rubik’s cube. She had never been good at those, really, and had doubted Steve’s ability in solving them when he first brought the thing into the back of Scoops A’hoy.

That was, of course, until she saw this.

The modes where Steve’s brain whirred by him too fast, his past of dealing with the Upside Down heavy on his shoulders. No matter the jokes the kids tended to make in Steve’s expense, he really wasn’t an idiot. Not when it came to puzzles, at the very fucking least.

Robin shook her head, wiggling further onto the carpet to be able to extend one of her legs. She hooks her ankle around Steve’s, smiling a little bit softer when he immediately eased into the touch. His shoulders stopped being tense and up by his ears, easing down to their natural resting point. Robin let’s it stay quiet for a beat, then two, before she starts to speak again.

“I love you.” Robin let herself murmur the words easily, even when Steve’s eyes are immediately glassy and soft. His brows furrow and she let her own furrow back, a mirror image to his. “Like this all-consuming aching love that I’ve never felt for anyone. Not like this.”

“Robbie-”

“No, let me get this out there.” Robin shook her head quickly as she scrambled forward, coming to kneel at Steve’s side. She cradled his cheeks in her hands, thumbs curled against his cheekbones as she tilted his chin up so his eyes would be met with her own. She knew what she must look like, like she’s on a warpath. (And in her mind, she is.) “I don’t think I have ever loved someone as much as I love you, dingus.”

“You are it for me, Steven Richard Harrington. You are my soulmate, and you-” Robin let herself sniffle, let Steve cradle her own cheeks in his palms. He mimicked the way she held him, hands gentle and thumbs cradling softly against her cheekbones. His thumbs brush even softer under her eyes, sweeping away tears Robin knew had managed to come out. “You deserve someone to tell you that every fucking day, and if it has to be me saying it to you for it to sink in… then so be it.”

“I love you, Robbie.” Steve’s own voice is wet and almost muffled sounding, brows still taut as his eyes shimmer with his own unshed tears. Robin makes sure to be gentle as she pressed her fingers harder into Steve’s face, squeezing his cheeks as she meets his eyes intently.

A beat passed. Then another. Robin let Steve stare unabashedly into her eyes, even when his own softened at whatever he had found inside of them.

“What?” Robin is almost scared to ask the question, even as Steve’s smile twitched at the very corner. Steve hummed softly, thumbs doing a final swoop up Robin’s cheeks, before he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Dingus?”

“You like Nancy.”

The statement is enough for Robin’s hands to fall off of Steve’s face, and she could feel the way her jaw slackened slightly. Steve is smug, almost, in the way he leaned further against the base of his desk as Robin scrambled backwards. He’s even quicker though, catching her ankle with his own- and causing her to land with a thud onto her butt that’s only minimally softened by his carpet.

“How did you-”

“You’ll find, that I’m one of the ones that knows what being in love with her is like.” Steve’s voice is soft, but there’s an edge on the back of it that caused Robin to swallow. Robin isn’t sure what fluttered hard in her stomach and chest, an ache of a feeling that caused her mouth to go dry and her brows to furrow. Steve licked at the corners of his mouth for a second, fingers flying faster as he turned and twisted at the Rubik’s cube. “And I just… let me say this, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Robin heard her voice croak, and she couldn’t help but feel as if she’s swimming in molasses as she watched Steve. His shoulders are up closer to his ears again, before he seemed to make the conscious decision to lower them. After a beat, the Rubik’s cube is solved, and Robin lets him toss it into her lap again.

“I don’t care that you like her at all, really.” Steve’s voice is soft and his words are spoken with a slow tilt to them, brows still furrowed as his bottom lip is pulled between his teeth. Robin watched him worry at it for a bit, before he let it go and began to speak again. “I was in love with her, I know, and she broke my heart in two-”

“Dingus-” Robin tried softly, but she let herself be cut off when Steve shook his head sharply. She instead, tossed the once more scrambled puzzle cube his way- and watched as he began to solve it again.

“If she…” Steve shook his head once, then twice, before his eyes met hers. There’s something there that’s lurking in them, a steel glimmer to them that Robin hasn’t seen before. He’s never really like this with her, not pulling on his King Steve persona like a personal shield again. “If she hurts you, Rob? Whatever friendship between her and I that’s somehow been salvaged? It’s… There is… I don’t care for a lot, not really anymore.”

Steve paused for a beat, shaking his head as he sniffled. He continued, speaking quieter and focused on his hands as he let the Rubik’s cube fall to his carpet.

“But if I ever have to chose between you and her? Rob, I’m going to pick you every time. And I want to be selfish and ask if you’d pick me too.”

Robin felt the tears then, hot and almost burning against her cheeks. Steve scrambled forward almost immediately, and Robin let out a gross even to her ears sounding sniffle as she let him cradle her to his chest. Robin reached up then, fingers searching and digging, pulling Steve closer to her. They entwine easily, and Robin can’t help but immediately think of Greek mythology.

There’s a story, one her mother used to tell her in place of fairytales. Of how the Greek philosopher, Plato, believed that humans used to have four arms and legs, and had two faces. Her mother always told it best, of how Zeus had deemed humans too prideful and split them as a form of punishment. Humans destined to walk the Earth searching for their other half, for their soulmate.

When she was little she used to think it would be romantic.

She knew better now.

She knew better because here she had Steve. And she may never get the chance or even the balls to tell Nancy Wheeler how she feels.

(That there are times where Robin looks at Nancy, and envisions a life where they are incandescently happy. Times where Robin can remember the burn and ache she felt for both Tammy and for Vickie, but that even together they don’t amount to what she feels for Nancy. That there are times where all Robin can do is just fucking wish and—)

She may never have a romantic soulmate.

Maybe it’s not in the cards for her in this reality, maybe that’s only something she can have in a different universe. Strangely, a part of her is okay with that.

Because here she has Steve. Here Steve has her.

And they’re SteveandRobin and RobinandSteve.

Two halves of a whole split by a God in a fit of rage, but somehow against all the odds they have managed to find each other and conjoin again.

Robin kept her voice soft as she pressed a soft kiss to Steve’s chest, and she left her lips there as she mumbled her next words. They’re the only words that fit, even though she wished she could bare her soul and mind completely, let him read and take his fill. Let him be comforted by her love.

As complete and unconditional as it is.

“I’d chose you in every fucking lifetime, Steve.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Robin squeezed her fingers more intently against Steve’s shoulders. Steve is quick to mimic her, giving Robin a few quick pulses of his fingers, before he spoke up after a beat.

“I think I have a crush on Eddie.”

Robin can’t help but explode into laughter.

Steve followed with his own shortly after.

—

hope you enjoyed! here’s the link for this fic if following along with it on ao3 is more your jam <3 more parts to come soon!

taglist:

@wonderland-girl143-blog @bxlthazar @estrellami-1 @plutoshelm @stevesbipanic @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @plyerice27 @justforthedead89 @nuttychaosface @princess-eddie @daydreaming-mood @anaibis @marsbars97 @messrs-weasley @beckkthewreck @he-she-steveharrington @practicallybegging @trashcanniballecter @theluckyalien @chaoticvictorianspirit @fantasyfr3ak @newtstabber @mightbeasleep @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @songbird-garden @thisisallicouldthinkof @emma-elsa-0000 @leather-and-freckles @shinekocreator @alex-whitley-187 @gay-little-bitch @pluto-pepsi @silentiumdelirium @kitchen-spoon @bossyknow-it-all

#angeldreamsoffanfic #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #platonic stobin #steve harrington and robin buckley are bffs #robin would die for steve #and steve for robin #steve harrington has bad parents #also my personal headcanon is that the Rubik’s cube from fv is steve’s can’t you tell?#steve harrington is smart #also yes sorry i do think this is how steve would act when robin told him she likes nancy #bc nancy already broke steve’s heart once #and steve forgives nancy but loves robin more #platonic stobin month #background ronance #background steddie #sorry

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xpao-bearx · 1 year

Text

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

NOTES: I literally put my whole heart and pussy into the previous part and it's just so THRILLING to see all the immense love and support!! 🥺❤️❤️❤️

I'm reeeally hoping y'all will like this part, too! Steven has an extremely special place in my heart, but this time we're shifting focus and giving our lovably murderous Moon Boy JAKE his time to shine!! \(^o^)/

Now as we all know, Jake unfortunately hasn't had a lot of screen time yet. I also watched Moon Knight for the third time and besides his confirmed appearance in the post-credits, there are some other more subtle scenes that I'm PRETTY sure Jake was in and it was a lot of fun for me to think so and obsess over!

But I digress! Anywhore, as I was saying, since Jake hasn't been on a lot the way I write him is PURELY made up. Of course, I try my best to capture the vibes I personally get from him, but until Season 2 drops (because I am NOT giving up on that) we don't know for certain what his personality's actually like (and I haven't read the comics please don't shoot me). It was a little challenging, but I really enjoyed getting to explore Jake and his perspective quite a bit! Though he ended up being a bit sadder than I intended CUZ THIS BOI JUST NEEDS AND DESERVES A WHOLE LOTTA LOVIN'❣️

Furthermore, I am not a Spanish speaker. Jake obviously is and I wanna stay as true as possible to the character by having him speak some (*cough* S E X Y *cough*) Spanish throughout, but if I made any mistakes at all then please kindly correct me as I mainly just use Google Translate and/or search up Spanish terms! For example, I was made aware that "ese" means "that" in Spanish. However, it's also Spanish slang for "dude", "man", etc. and I just find it fitting for Jake to call the boys that 😅

Also, Jake is...rough 😳 Don't worry, he loves and cares about you a LOT, but this is a fair WARNING in case you're not into that! And this part got pretty long, IDK I probs blacked out somewhere in the middle and this is le horny result~

Additionally, do y'all think the relationship between reader x Steven/the boys is going too fast? I really try to make it as natural as possible, but hey this is only fiction after all and I think Steven, for one, falls in love FAST since in the show he was already simping for Layla the first time they met 😂 But I can't judge Steven cuz I'd be the same if I ever met Oscar Isaac I mean, I'm already simping now but YOU GET IT

And a lil funny coincidoink, Like A Virgin came on the radio which I guess was your guys' universal push for me to continue this ASAP!

I truly am sorry for the wait!! Life is hard but I simp harder xD

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland @the-ginger-draws @bitchyglitterfox @readingfan @spidey-3 @minigirl87 @wandasupremacy @simba-will-live-on @wavychelle @thepowerthismanhasoverme @blackholegladiator @kittytiddywinks @literalfkinsimp @valen-yamyam16 @shaunalouie @howellatme @aleat0ri0 @bean-is-reading @indigxjunipxr

Part 4: Gonna give you all my love, boy

Your chest rose and fell with each soft, blissful snore. Your face void of any burden, open and peaceful; plump lips parted slightly, looking so kissable. And that's exactly what Steven did, lonely lips descending to meet yours--his slumbering goddess.

An insatiable part of him longed for you to awaken, to spend more time fumbling around in the sheets until sunrise. But he knew, more than anyone else, that sleep was important. And he had no doubt that after all the...unique events that progressed your relationship, you deserved all the rest you can get.

Like the proper gentleman he was, he had cleaned you up before snuggling in bed together until dreams inevitably consumed you. And now here you were, using one of his arms that he can't feel anymore as your pillow and your bodies exchanging heat.

Then his mouth lowered, down your chin, to your throat, and to the delicate dip between your neck and shoulder. Planting butterfly kisses on your skin, lips tracing and eyes memorizing every perfect imperfection that dotted your body like constellations.

He noticed your breathing slowly growing uneven, your nipples salaciously peaking through your tank top. He knew he had to stop. He had to, but...

He lifted his free hand, inching towards your breasts before freezing, clenching into a tight fist that had his nails digging into his palm.

His cheeks bloomed red, pulling away and laying on his back as he stared up blankly at the ceiling. What the fuck was he doing?

"Jake, mate... I know you're there, might as well say something, yeah?" Steven whispered.

'Your senses are improving, ese.' Jake snickered. 'Is that why you stopped? No need to be shy, it's just the same as watching porn.'

Steven turned redder, clearing his throat. "Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"

Silence greeted him. Steven waited patiently, giving his alter all the time he needed. As rough around the edges as they may be, the boys all cared about each other and Steven knew that all Jake needed--deserved--was time. Hell, he and Marc didn't even know Jake existed for a while until he finally felt comfortable enough to reveal himself.

'Nah, ese.' Jake snorted, though his voice held a certain heaviness to it. 'She's all yours. You deserve her, Steven.'

"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."

'Don't think your little cariño would appreciate it so much that you're wanting to hand her off to some other asshole.' Jake scoffed.

"I'm not 'handing her off', you git. I wanna...share." Steven mumbled the latter, gulping thickly.

'Steven...' Jake sighed, but Steven sensed intrigue in his tone. 'I don't know what the fuck you expect from this talk, ese. We only share the same body, that's it.'

"You're lying and you know it. Two months working with Y/N, I never said anything, but I knew you were always there. This damn body isn't the only thing we share, 'cause I know your feelings are just the same as mine."

It was then that you mewled softly, shifting and wrapping an arm around Steven's waist and cuddling close to his side with a content little smile on your lips as you slept.

Steven melted and he felt Jake do so, too.

"I'm not giving you an out, mate." Steven chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'm absolutely buggered and so are you."

♡•••🌙•••♡

Steven, that absolute fucking puta.

As soon as Jake opened his eyes, dread filled him. Slowly turning his head and seeing your back to him, he knew Steven gave up control at some point and forced Jake to come out from the shadows.

He's tried multiple times to drag that pendejo back out, but Steven has obviously put up a block between them. Jake sighed frustratedly, his gaze lingering on you once more.

His heart ached. And fuck it hurts.

He wasn't Steven.

He did not deserve you.

He was dirty--rotten. He was only good for causing pain; even the ways in which he protected the boys were brutal, inhumane.

And he loved the chaos. Thrived in it.

When Steven met you for the first time, two months ago, that was what Jake intended to cause as well. Pain. Heartbreak.

Nothing more than another pretty notch to add to his belt.

But you...surprised him. You actually cared about Steven, gave him basic human respect and the time of day when no one else did and just fucking listened. Accepted him with open arms and such a kind, blinding smile. And pretty soon, Jake yearned for that, too. From you. Just you.

You didn't even know he existed--you didn't fucking care about him--and yet you smashed his glass heart into a thousand pieces, leaving him to find the sharpest shard and continuously stab himself as punishment.

That's what he deserved. Not you.

But oh... You looked so cold. Why were you so far away? What the hell were you thinking, pulling away from him?

Like a lion stalking its prey, Jake crawled towards you until he was on top of you. His dark eyes trailed down your sleeping form, so beautiful, so vulnerable. He didn't realize his hand was shaking slightly as it reached up to caress your face, breath hitching as his thumb glided across your bottom lip before slowly slipping it inside your mouth.

He watched, completely entranced, as your saliva coated his thumb and the way in which you squirmed so that you were now laying on your back, facing him. You were still asleep, though your brows creased together and your breathing grew shallow.

What were you dreaming about, Jake wondered? Were you dreaming about last night? Steven didn't feel him then, but Jake was there and it was the best torture he's ever endured.

He can make you feel good--better. And if there was any room in your heart (and legs) for him, he'd more than happily prove it to you.

But you were so kind, so sweet... Surely you'd accept him, too, right?

Surely you'd relieve him of his huge fucking hard-on, right?

He found himself lowering, lowering, lowering--then stopped just as his lips were about to meet yours.

No...

You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve him.

As if he was just burnt, he sprang away from you and sat at the foot of the bed, keeping as much distance as possible. His head hung low, hands scrubbing his face in frustration before turning into self-loathing slaps.

He quickly got a hold of himself, lest you have a cruel awakening to him. Not Steven.

He looked over his shoulder. You really did look cold. He unchained the ankle restraint then stood up, walking over to your side and tucking the blanket over your unfairly scantily clad body.

God... How he wished he was the one keeping you warm.

He then shook his head, glancing towards the wall clock. 5:40 a.m.

He can sneak out and do some business for Khonshu. And by the time he returns, hopefully Steven does, too.

He has to.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You rolled over in bed, expecting to cuddle up next to something much more solid than a pillow. Your brows furrowed, a hand flying out to pat the bed and not finding what--who--it was seeking.

Your eyes snapped open and you bolted upright. You looked around in a frenzy, eyes still bleary with sleep and finding the apartment completely empty.

You then noticed the time on the wall clock. 7:20 a.m.

You were off work today, but you weren't sure if Steven had a shift. But even if he did, it was still too early for the museum to open.

So...

Where the hell was Steven?

He couldn't have ditched you...could he? No, that wasn't possible, this was his flat.

But wait... What if this was his subtle way of telling you to get lost? That he didn't want to see you still here when he comes back from wherever the fuck he went to?

You overstayed your welcome, didn't you? This was what it was about, isn't it? This was all your fault, right?

You were on the verge of hyperventilating when, at the corner of your eye, you spotted a bright yellow sticky note on top of the books on the bedside table. You quickly ripped it off, reading the messy, rushed handwriting.

Don't know when I'll be back. Just relax. Food for you is in the kitchen, amor.

You blinked away tears you didn't realize were forming once, twice, then bursted into laughter.

"Fuck, seriously, what is wrong with me?" You berated yourself, still laughing.

This was Steven. Of course he would never abandon you, and you would never abandon him.

He proved it to you, after all. The memories of last night terrorizing your brain once more, making you blush like a virgin (which you were--for now).

You wanted to prove yourself to him, too. And you're sure you'll think of something, but at the moment you became distracted as your eyes landed on Steven's black sweatshirt sprawled carelessly across the floor.

You put on your glasses then hopped off of the bed and picked up the sweatshirt, tugging it on and letting out a giggle as it drooped over your thighs, turning the sleeves into little hand mittens and your body and heart just feeling so warm.

You ambled over to the kitchen, seeing a plate of slightly burnt toast and scrambled eggs clumsily covered in plastic wrap on the small dining table. You chuckled softly, taking the plastic off before sitting down and having breakfast.

As you chewed, once again your brain couldn't help but wander off.

It was only a little thing. Such a stupid thing, really. But still, it just would not stop nagging you.

Amor. It was French for 'love'.

But... Steven didn't spell it with a U. It was supposed to be amour.

Amor, no U, was the Spanish spelling. And Steven, who seemed fluent in French, should know that.

But people make mistakes, and who were you to judge such a minuscule, silly mistake?

Before you could entertain yourself by ruminating over such nonsense some more, your ears perked up when you heard the lock click and the door opening and shutting close. You kept quiet, watching as Steven slowly trudged in.

He was wearing a flat cap and a trench coat, and from your spot in the kitchen he hasn't noticed you yet. But he looked...different.

You couldn't quite explain it, but he seemed...tense. On edge. An air of agitation surrounding him, stiff in his movements yet carrying a sense of confidence at the same time.

Wild.

You then swallowed, standing up from your chair and silently making your way over to Steven with his back turned to you as he busied himself with stripping off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling him jolt. But before he could react, you spoke up.

"I missed you..." You murmured, embracing him more tightly as you pressed your cheek to his back. "Don't do that again, please. At least wake me up if you're leaving."

Steven didn't say anything, completely rigid and gloved hands balled into tight fists.

Then it clicked.

"You're not Steven...are you?"

His shoulders jerked, and you pulled your face away to look up at him. But you never removed your arms, keeping them in place around his waist.

Then his shoulders drooped, hearing him take a sharp intake of breath before ever so slowly turning his head over his shoulder.

"Caught red-handed." His lips curled up into a smirk, dark eyes gleaming down at you. "You're much more observant than I thought, princesa."

Your breath hitched, mouth agape and eyes blown wide as you gawked at him. You didn't know what to feel. Well, there was definitely excitement, but you weren't sure if it was appropriate for you to feel such a way.

Regardless, you were glad Steven was open and honest with you from the get-go. You knew, at some point, it was inevitable that you'd meet the two other men he's mentioned. So, you weren't too taken aback to be experiencing this right now.

"Judging from your accent and what you called me just now... You must be Jake?" You queried, cocking your head to the side as you stared up at him. Funny, he shared the exact same body as Steven, but he was still...different. The way he held himself, the little quirk to his lips, the look in his eyes--it was all very distinct.

"Don't see why you gotta keep asking me questions, princesa. Seems like ya got it all figured out." Jake scoffed, amusement in his tone.

"Well... You certainly made an...impression when you asked me out." You spoke slowly, carefully, as if not daring to spook some wild animal. You wanted Jake to feel safe, welcomed; because it felt like Jake hasn't at all expected to be here right now, but you wanted to let him know that you didn't mind him. You were happy to be meeting him.

But Jake took it the wrong way. He read your body language as aloof, like you were just trying to be polite. And why wouldn't you be? You were naturally kind, but he knew better.

He was absolutely not supposed to be here. He was never supposed to meet you, never planned to. After all, you preferred Steven.

...Didn't you?

His jaw ticked, his hands untangling your arms around his waist before he spun on his heel to fully face you. You gasped as he did, paling at the sight of blood on his shirt.

"What happened?!" You panicked, your hands immediately touching his body, eyes frantically searching for any injuries. "Did someone hurt you?! Oh my god, who did this to you?!"

"It's not my blood."

You froze, a chill coursing through your veins. Slowly, your head tilted up, meeting his gaze. It was much darker than before, flecks of savagery brewing within. And yet, you also saw...loneliness.

Longing.

"Are you scared, Y/N?"

You held your breath, his voice cracking as he uttered your name for the first time. It was a simple question that had a painfully simple answer.

"I am."

Jake shut his eyes, inhaling deeply and letting it out in a wavering breath.

He fucking knew it.

"Jake..." His eyes snapped open at your voice, so soft, so unexpectedly calm. "Will you...hurt me?"

"I would never." He whispered--promised--holding your gaze sincerely. "I couldn't."

"I'm scared of the...things you can do, Jake." You admitted, noticing his Adam's apple bob as he gulped. His gaze fell to the floor, but you reached up, gently cupping the side of his face. "But...I'm not scared of you."

Jake met your eyes once more, his hardened expression softening as he sighed, nuzzling into your comforting hand. For the first time in a long time, he felt...safe. He was not one of Khonshu's pawns, he was not Steven or Marc's ruthless protector, he was simply...

Jake Lockley.

"I'm sorry..." He murmured, trembling hand reaching out and caressing your cheek; tenderly, fondly, lovingly. "I...was never supposed to meet you. I was fine watching you quietly. But last night, Steven said he wanted us to meet. For me to be a...part of what you have with him."

A deafening silence rang in your ears. Jake watched you with those intense, soulful eyes, brows furrowed and jaw clenched as he waited with bated breath for your reaction. Any reaction.

"Jake..." You have no idea how you even managed to speak, your volatile heartbeat replacing the silence. "Take a shower first, we'll talk after."

♡•••🌙•••♡

Water dripped from Jake's hair, his hands pressed against the wall with his head tilted down as he watched the pristine white tiles of the shower's floor stain red.

This was an all too familiar situation for him. Washing off blood that didn't belong to him, his body getting cleaned though never his damned soul. But it never bothered him before...until now.

He knew there was a chance you'd be awake when he returned, but he figured that he can just pretend to be Steven at least until that idiot takes control of the body again. Jake's done it convincingly enough a few times before back when Steven and Marc were still unaware of his existence, acting as one of them whenever something triggered them and he suddenly had to front.

But when you hugged him, he just...froze. It felt as if he was struck by lightning because this was real--you were real. Your heart-wrenching kindness and beauty were all directed towards him, and he was no longer just a pathetic fly on the wall through Steven's eyes.

But how could he be so fucking dumb? He never should've shown himself, he should've stayed away from the apartment even if it took all day and just let Steven deal with the consequences. And yet...he came back.

Because, the absolute truth is, he wanted to meet you. At his very core, he was a selfish bastard who wanted to be with you, no matter the punishment inflicted on him--he inflicts on himself.

But was he really being selfish?

As drastically different as they were, Steven and Marc managed to control their own separate lives. Steven had his job that he despised, but also the comfort of regularly getting a paycheck that provided for his daily needs. Marc was Khonshu's (main) Avatar and as draining as it was, he could still unwind after a long day with a pack of beer and a Chicago Cubs game playing on TV.

And then, of course, there were Moon Knight and Mr. Knight that ultimately tied them together.

But what about Jake? Was he nothing more than a punching bag for Marc and Steven, only seizing command and handling whatever shitshow they got themselves into that they were too weak to finish?

Jake knew that was his job--his purpose. And honestly, it was okay. He cared about the boys, and keeping them safe meant the same for him as well.

...Until you came along. And for the first fucking time, he actually wanted something. Yearned for someone. Just for himself, and not because of anyone else's expectations or demands of him.

He didn't realize it until you came crashing into Steven's--and his--life like some fucking meteorite, but he was empty. And on the extremely rare occasions that Jake was entitled to the body all for himself, he grew tired of being tired from aimlessly hopping bar to bar. Nearly wiping all his fucking memories out with heavy drinks and the need--the desperation--to forget about the problems he deliberately ignores, hides, even for one single measly night through fucking some random stranger he didn't and won't ever care about.

But you weren't a stranger, that was perfectly clear. Days bled into weeks, and weeks into months; and here you were now, looking all cute--tempting--wearing Steven's sweatshirt, eating breakfast in his home, as his girlfriend.

Steven's girlfriend. Not Jake's girlfriend.

"Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"

Steven's words from last night echoed in Jake's head, taunting him. And the ridiculous proposition that followed afterwards, of the two of them sharing you.

"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."

And maybe, just maybe...Steven's right.

Maybe Jake did deserve you.

But did you deserve him?

"What's got you looking all emo?" Jake's head abruptly whipped around, seeing you with one hand holding the shower curtain open while the other clutched onto a towel covering your body.

Your naked body.

Jake's mouth went dry, completely paralyzed. All he could do was let his eyes scan you from head to toe, undressing you in his mind. He's already seen you last night and he thought he'd be fine just basking you in from Steven's point of view, but oh...he thought dead wrong.

Because now he really wanted to touch you. Feel you. Make you come undone, all because of him. All for him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His question came out sharper than he intended it to, eyes narrowing as he watched your gaze drop, shifting on your feet uncertainly along with the tantalizing way you bit your lip.

You seemed to be engaging in a silent war with yourself before you shook your head, straightening up as you dared to meet his eyes and slowly dropped the towel to the floor.

"I told Steven this before, but I prefer to get things over with." You smiled a bit sheepishly, stepping into the shower; the warm drizzle of water helped to thaw the ice cold sensation anxiety gripped you with. "I'm a very impatient woman, Mr. Lockley."

"And you think jumping into the shower completely naked with a man you barely know is the answer to your impatience, señorita?" Jake arched a brow, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"Well, it's not like I can get into the shower with clothes on, right? That's just fucking stupid." You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. "Besides... It's because I want to get to know you that I'm here."

"This is a dangerous game you're playing, princesa." Jake murmured, his smirk instantly vanishing; that furrowed brows, clenched jaw sternness once more overtaking his striking features as he regarded you. "I'm not your sweet, sensitive little boyfriend. I'm not Steven." He practically hissed out the name, though there was more sadness to it than venom.

"This isn't a game to me, Jake." You stated firmly, standing your ground as you held your chin high and levelled your gaze with his. "None of this is. I take Steven very seriously--I take our relationship very seriously." You paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. "And I know, maybe I'm moving too fast, and I totally understand your doubts about this--about me. But I'm not a fucking dumbass. I know you're not Steven and I like you, anyway."

Jake was rarely speechless, but even as his mouth parted to say something--anything--nothing came out. He felt something fall down his cheek, and he wasn't too sure if it was water or the strange liquid that suddenly made his vision all blurry.

But he didn't have much time to ponder on it when your hand gently pressed against his cheek, your eyes kind and full of adoration, the same adoration you always bless Steven with and something Jake believed was only a far-off miracle for him.

"Y/N..." He choked out, glossy dark eyes intently set on you. "I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster, Jake." You were quick to counter, taking a step closer, now being chest to chest with Jake. "You're a part of Steven, and anything--anyone--that's a part of him is beautiful. And you sure as hell deserve to live your own life, too. And, well, if you'll have me..." You blushed, looking down. "...I would really, really like to get to know you better, Jake Lockley."

Silence smothered you, wrapping its invisible claws around your neck, and you now fully understood what people meant when they say something takes forever. You thought it would be easier and much less frightening if the ground actually opened up and swallowed you whole, but Jake finally put you out of your misery, his hand turning off the shower and a low chuckle bubbling out of him.

"Well... Damn." He smirked, cocking his head down at you, though his smug demeanour couldn't mask the rosiness that dusted his cheeks. "You really do like me and Steven, huh, querida? Or maybe it's just your boobs up against me that's convincing me."

"Well, if it's helping you to believe me, then I'm not complaining." You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck, pushing your breasts against him. Both of your breaths stuttered at the close, intimate contact, and you whimpered as his hands landed on your hips, callused fingers squeezing your soft flesh.

"Dios mío..." He growled lowly, his hands slowly, reverently travelling up the curves of your body, leaving a burning wake, before dipping once more and giving your ass a hard smack.

"Ah..!" You gasped, lurching forward, your face bumping against his solid chest. You felt his chest vibrate as a deep laugh rumbled out of him, one hand fisting your hair and pulling your head back.

"I ain't lying when I said I'm not your sweet, sensitive boyfriend." There was mania in his eyes, baring shiny white teeth as he grinned widely at you; like a shark who's smelled blood--your blood--from a mile away, he's set his target and can't be satisfied by anything, anyone else. "Then again, if you could see Steven's thoughts like I can, 'sweet and sensitive' aren't completely accurate for him."

You gulped, but not from fear. You squeezed your thighs together, pupils dilating as you stared up at Jake. "I-I don't mind if you or Steven aren't sweet and sensitive. I wanna be treated nice, but there are plenty of ways 'nice' can be translated to..." You placed a hand on his abs, lips parting as you traced along his taut muscles, looking like some fucking Greek sculpture--a god--with the way his wet body shimmered a divine bronze. "Don't you think so...Papi?"

With no warning, you felt the air get knocked out of you as his lips collided with yours, attacking you; tongues intertwining with a clash of teeth, the moist smack of your lips harmonizing with the vulgar moans Jake drew out of you.

You felt Jake's neediness, the desperation underlying his roughness--as if this was not just the first, but the only time he'd get to kiss you and have you for himself.

As if you'd ever allow for this to be the only time.

Your hands fell to his shoulders, nails breaking his skin and marking him with crescent indents. He groaned as you did, kissing you with even more fervour, fiery passion never ceasing as you both chased after that hellish ecstasy; seizing, bruising, suffocating you.

More, more, more. Giving and taking, taking, taking.

You just could never have enough, clueless as to where you started and Jake ended, Jake's tongue practically down your throat now. You know you needed air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but your body refused.

If this was how you died, then you'd die an elated woman.

But Jake suddenly pulled away from you, making you whine loudly. Your hands pawed at his chest, tears springing to your eyes and your ears couldn't even register the pitiful pleas that tumbled out of your mouth for more, more, more.

"You're such a fucking slut, aren't you, mi amor?" Jake snickered, one hand wrapping around your neck, thumb stroking the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to feel as if your head was floating. "Steven always saw you as this pure, innocent angel. But you're not, aren't you? You wanna be corrupted, don't you? You wanna be my pretty little devil, slut?"

"I'll be anything for you, Papi." You replied breathlessly, tears staining your scarlet cheeks. "Just be my everything."

"I'll be whatever--do whatever--for you, mi vida." His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but you heard him loud and clear, his earnesty and sweetness cloying. His other hand caressed your face before he leaned down, his tongue licking away your salty tears, a reprieve from the rapturous flames that engulfed him. "Now... What do you want Papi to do?" He purred, smirking wolfishly down at you. "You want me to fuck you? Spread your little virgin pussy, fill you up with my cock? Wanna see how much you can take, cariño. Take all my cum, don't waste a single fucking drop."

As tempting as his filthy words were, as much as you wanted to, you remembered how Steven refused to have sex with you last night. Of his promise that he'll make love to you another time, when he was better prepared with condoms. And fuck, you wanted him--them--so badly. Steven and Jake. But you respected Steven and his decision, and you did also want for your lovemaking to be special.

"Can I taste your cock, Papi?" You asked, biting your lip as you met Jake's gaze shyly. You felt like a mouse and he was the lion, yet you held the power in whatever was going to happen. "I-I promise I'll take it all... Take all your cum, like a good girl."

Jake knew that you chose not to have sex with him out of respect for Steven, and that only made him love you more. He felt a pang in his heart and a smile tugged up the corners of his lips, eyes locking with yours, full of tenderness and affection.

Right then and there, he knew that you were "the one". For him and Steven.

"Get on your knees like a good fucking girl, then." He breathed, and you didn't hesitate as you instantly dropped to your knees, breasts jiggling slightly as you did. Your eyes widened as his cock stood proudly, mere inches away from your face.

"I...I'm sorry if I'm...bad." Your voice came out as a squeak, mentally slapping yourself before clearing your throat. "I-I've never done this before!"

"You better have not or else I'll hunt down and kill all the fuckers you've ever been with." He barked out a laugh, but his eyes were dark and serious.

Murder was not something Jake Lockley ever joked about, after all.

Strangely enough, you found his possessiveness...sexy. Which only meant that Jake was already corrupting you.

But was that really such a bad thing?

You shook your head, focusing on the cock--erm, task--at hand. Your hand wrapped around his shaft, hearing Jake breathe sharply through his nose as you did. You licked your lips as you watched the pre-cum drip out of the tip, so curious, so transfixed like a moth to a flame.

Your tongue then darted out, experimentally licking the milky fluid. Jake threw his head back with a guttural groan; you've barely even started, and it made you fucking giddy that he reacted like this.

"Jake..." You murmured, giggling softly. You peered up at him through your long lashes, flashing him a dazzling smile. "You're so beautiful, Jake."

"That ain't something you should call a man, mi vida." Jake scoffed, but the crimson tint on his cheeks have spread like wildfire to the tips of his ears and neck. "Especially not when you're the beautiful one."

"Going soft on me now, Jakey?" You teased lightheartedly, slowly beginning to stroke his length.

Jake's breath hitched, brows furrowing as he watched you intently, attentively. "You really are a little devil, Y/N." He chuckled deeply, and you knew that meant trouble. "You think I'm going soft? Looks like you really have a lot you need to know about me."

Like before, his hand fisted your hair, pulling your head back and making you look up at him. "Open up, slut." And you did, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. You flinched slightly as his cock hit your tongue, his other hand grabbing his member and moving it around on your tongue, painting it white.

"Now you're gonna be a good cocksucker, got it?" He grinned down devilishly at you, eyes twinkling with sheer, wicked glee. "You're gonna make Papi cum, like the good whore that you are."

You nodded hastily, eagerly. And you just couldn't fucking take it anymore, jostling forward and burying his cock in your wet, hot mouth.

"That's. Fucking. It." Jake hissed, his grip on your hair tightening ever so slightly. Slowly, you began to bob your head, your mouth accommodating his size. You briefly wondered how anyone could ever even compare this to a banana or a popsicle stick; it was much bigger and your jaw started to hurt, which Jake quickly noticed as you tensed.

"Hey, relax." He cooed, reaching down to tenderly wipe away the tears you didn't realize were flowing down your cheeks. "Easy, Y/N. Relax your mouth, loosen up your throat... Fuck, yeah, that's it. Keep going, hermosa."

With newfound confidence and assurance, you gradually increased your pace. You hollowed your cheeks, your tongue sliding along the underside of his cock with each rhythmic bop of your head. Up, down, up, down--Jake's sinful groans bouncing off the walls of the bathroom, never breaking eye contact as you burned all of him into memory.

Then your surprised gasp was muffled as his foot pressed against your clit, only offering you a cocky smirk in return.

He began to move his foot, his toes budging your clit and stroking along your pussy. You moaned around his cock, grinding against his foot for more friction. Then his other hand grabbed onto your hair, both of his hands now pushing and pulling your head up, down, up, down--drool spilling down the sides of your mouth, resisting the urge to gag as the tip of Jake's cock pounded your throat, your hands floundering to his thighs as you clung on for dear life.

"Fuck, look at you... Una putita tan bonita solo para mí." He laughed, the thrusts of his hips growing fiercer, more rabid as he mercilessly fucked your throat. "Wanna taste me, mi vida? Think you've earned it?"

All you could do was nod, nod, nod--looking up at him pleadingly as you continued to desperately grind yourself against his foot, your own orgasm fast approaching.

Jake's jeering laughter soon stuttered into a heavy, gasping moan; his eyes squeezing shut as his head fell back, hitting the wall. You felt his cock twitch, releasing his seed, shooting down your throat and his balls slamming against your chin.

Your own release coated Jake's foot, your entire body shuddering from the intensity of it all and coughing as Jake finally withdrew his cock out of your mouth. But you didn't have time to revel in the afterglow as Jake's hand wrapped around your neck once more, dragging you up and crashing his lips with yours. You swapped spit and cum, but neither of you cared; the two of you groping, squeezing, clinging onto each other any which way your needy hands could fumble.

You didn't keep track anymore of who pulled away first, laughter ringing in your ears as you both grinned at each other; spent, happy.

The dawn of something new, exciting, promising shining between the two of you.

Wordlessly, Jake turned on the shower again. Then he grabbed the soap, his hands gliding along your smooth skin, his lips attaching to the crook of your neck where he could see the faint pinpricks of his handprint slowly materializing.

"Did I hurt you, mi vida?" As rough of a lover as Jake was, none of his pleasure mattered if you didn't enjoy yourself.

"A little bit." You admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head. "But it's okay. I...liked it." You blushed furiously.

"Fuck..." He grumbled, pulling away and looking very much like a kicked puppy, something that you thought only Steven was a pro at. "As cute as you are blushing like that, princesa, I'm so fucking sorry. I know I should know when to stop, when to be gentle...but those are not really what I'm good at." His eyes drifted down, and you can tell that he had a lot more to say. A lot more to regret. "I'm sorry, Y/N."

"I forgive you, Jake. Now please... Stop beating yourself up, okay?" You cupped his face, pecking his nose and meeting his gaze. "I'm not lying when I said I liked it, but don't blame yourself too much. I also should've done something, spoken up if it was too painful for me." Your fingers ran through his hair, smiling softly, lovingly at him. "All of this is new for me--for us. But it's okay, 'cause we can learn together, yeah? And if you'd like, we can come up with a safe word if things get too rough."

Jake hesitated, wondering if you were really telling the truth and not just trying to comfort him. But one look at your sweet, loving smile was more than enough for his worries and doubts to fade away, his own smile gracing his lips and his hands holding your own that were so gently, kindly cupping his face.

"I think that would be great. Any idea what the safe word should be?"

"I was thinking 'Khonshu'." Your answer made Jake snort before he bursted into laughter, you joining shortly after.

"Mi vida, if you say that bastardo's name while we're fucking, you really are gonna make me go soft." He chuckled, pinching your cheek and kissing your forehead.

"Fine, fine! Clearly coming up with a safe word is what I'm not good at. Let's figure it out together." You playfully rolled your eyes, giggling and kissing his cheek. "Anyway, I'll head out first. But don't take too long or else I'll jump in the shower with you again and for the sake of Steven's water expenses, you do not want that happening."

"On one condition, señorita. You have to wear my clothes when you get out, not Steven's." He hummed to which you laughed and nodded, but just as you were about to step out of the shower, Jake suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to his chest.

He leaned down to your ear, voice a low purr as he spoke; like it was a secret, a sacred oath between only the two of you.

"El amor de mi vida, mi salvavidas... Nunca te dejaré ir."

Your lips curled up into a smile, your heart swelling achingly within your chest. You turned around and leaned up on your tiptoes, your lips melting perfectly together with Jake's, becoming one.

"I love you, Jake Lockley." You whispered, sealing your oath. "Now... Don't keep me waiting. You know I'm an impatient woman."

Jake watched with a dumb, lovestruck grin as you pulled away giggling, finally stepping out of the shower and closing the bathroom door behind you. And as soon as you were gone, Jake piped up to the other occupant in the bathroom.

"Steven, ese... I know you're there, might as well say something, huh?"

'Bloody HELL, mate...' Steven's words stumbled out in a rushed, breathless breath. 'That was MENTAL.'

"You're welcome for the free show, ese." Jake chuckled, standing under the spray of the shower as he washed himself off.

Although Jake couldn't see Steven, he knew that the poor, flustered English man was having a damn heart attack at this very moment.

'That was...that was...' Steven was completely at a loss for words, making Jake smirk.

"The hottest fucking thing you've ever seen? Yeah, I know. Y/N's our sexy girlfriend, after all." Jake turned off the shower, hopping out and drying himself off with a towel. "You're right, by the way. We're both absolutely fucked."

'I'm just glad it all worked out, mate.' Steven replied, relief and happiness flooding his voice. 'You deserve her. WE deserve her. It's just...' He trailed off, sighing deeply. 'Now that I think about it, I'm worried about Marc.'

"Fuck Marc." Jake snapped, his eyes settling on the mirror, Steven's reflection staring back at him with an anxious crease between his brows and lips downturned. "We deserve to live our own lives, too, Steven. That cabrón's just gonna have to deal with it."

And deal with it, Marc will. But...

You'll have to deal with Marc, too.

913 notes · View notes

softlyspector · 2 years

Text

Deserve

Summary: Marc never stays with you after he fucks you. You are better left in the hands of Steven. This time, he doesn't leave you.

Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader (implied Steven Grant x Reader)

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: smut, some references to rough sex, angst (with a happy ending) - don't let me fool you this is just touch starved marc struggling with being loved

A/N: im fine im just really out here with nothing else to do but think about moon knight

Marc was an intense person.

He was like the patter of rain against the roof, against an open window pane. He was like the shock and flash of lightning during a storm.

The grim set of his mouth and shoulders, the unending weight of the world that made his brows dip into that hard line. Marc felt more than he let on, was affected by things people said and did, let the blows rain like ash against his skin and said nothing.

You had learned long ago that Marc did not welcome comfort, that he felt it was something he did not deserve to receive. Soft, shaded mornings were for his alter. Everything squishy and warm, hazed in the breathy glow of a sunrise, was for you and Steven, not him.

Maybe it wasn’t that Marc didn’t welcome comfort.

He craved it, wanted it, longed for it.

And he should not long for it, want it, crave it.

He’d told you as much, over and over, the weight of your gentle hands against his skin like burning embers.

He wanted it. He so badly wanted to sink into that flame, but he was worried it would burn him alive, melt him down into something unrecognizable.

It was only when something went particularly badly that he allowed some comfort.

He loves you, this you know.

You see it in the heaviness of his stare, in the intensity of his worry, in the way he hugged you, held your hand, worried after you like you had not survived for years on your own.

But if you ever dared to hold his hand, hug him, drag your fingers down the length of his spine, it was too much for him. These were things he could offer you, but that you should not give him in return. These were not things he deserved, these were things better reserved to his alter, who was deserving of everything he was not.

Marc is intense.

He’s hard and wild and something close to broken some days, when reality drifts in and out of focus, when the world is best left in the hands of Steven.

There’s always a beating heart of anxiety behind everything he does, that this time he will not be enough, that this time he will not be fast enough, that this time the universe would get the last laugh again.

So when Marc fucks you, he is intense, he is like the weight of the all consuming world poured out. Salt water in wounds.

You don’t mind.

The times he’s gentle with you, you get the sense that he’s mourning, like the act is grief, something lost that he’s stealing back from the gods. Something that is temporary and definitely not for him.

This night, he had come to you like the storm he bred inside him, the hatred of self and fear of a future he could not control, of a tentative reality of things only he could see.

Marc was rough with you.

His fingers in your mouth, his hand hard against your cunt, against your ass. He had buried himself inside you, set a punishing pace. When his mouth was on yours, his kiss had been more like an effort to consume you. When his hand wrapped around your throat, his eyes had snapped to the mirror, and you had known Steven had been cautioning him, that you were in fact breakable, no matter what you said, that he should be careful of you.

But you’d covered his hand with your own and tightened his fingers, eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in whatever bit of himself he would give you.

A last stuttering breath passes your lips, eyes screwed closed, pleasure lighting up the insides of your veins, molten, like a river of fire that never ends.

You clutch the sheets beneath your fingers and turn your face into a pillow as the last waves of your orgasam shutter through you. You bite off the moan that bubbles to the back of your throat when you feel Marc shift inside you, so full it's almost painful.

Your thighs tremble, the insistent pressure of Marc’s hand against the back of your neck keeping you in place. His other hand kneads the flesh of your hip, and you know a bruise has already formed there.

Marc pulls back, and thrusts into you one last time, a pleasant satisfied ache beginning between your legs.

The firm fingers at your waist finally let you drop your hips to the mattress.

You feel weightless and warm, content, like you’re floating through a cloud. Marc presses a kiss to the space between your shoulder blades, before the heavy bulk of his body surrounds yours.

Disappointment darts through you in a brief little flash, because this is Marc’s parting gift to you always.

The kiss between your shoulders, the all consuming fire of the warmth of him against you, before he hands the reigns to Steven.

Marc never stays with you, after. The kiss against your spine is all you get from him. Whether because he can’t be bothered with taking care of you or because he feels he doesn’t deserve to, you aren’t sure.

Steven is always there though, to kiss you back to life, to smile at you, make love to you so slowly and sweetly it was like a dream you never wanted to wake up from.

His fingers slide up your arms, massaging as he goes, until he reaches your clenched hands, gently uncurling them from the fabric of the sheets until he can twist his fingers with yours.

You feel him squeeze carefully, his nose dipping to the crook of your neck.

A stillness falls over you both, silence, peace, creating a warm little bubble.

You don’t mind his weight against you, it settles the frantic beating of your heart, drenches you in warmth.

Normally, Steven would say something to you when he fronted, a kiss against your cheek and a softly spoken hello, love.

Today, he’s silent, arms tight and grounding around you.

But it's Steven, you know it must be.

Because Marc never stays.

You turn your head, nuzzling your nose against his arm, feeling his damp skin against your cheek. You want to open your eyes, reach up and touch the little black curl of hair you know must be stuck to his forehead at that moment.

You’re content to stay like that with him, content to feel the gentle drift of his nose along the curve of your jaw. So you keep your eyes closed and let your mushy, sex-addled brain drift, as lips press along your jaw, behind the curve of your ear.

And you’re happy to stay in the gentle warmth being offered to you, the glow of being loved so well.

But then, he does something inexplicable.

Steven pulls away from you.

He gets up.

And he leaves.

An empty feeling that you don’t like crawls up from the pit of your belly. A feeling that’s suspiciously like abandonment, that you know is not grounded in reality.

Steven never left the bed, not without saying something to you first, not before checking in with you to ask what you needed or wanted. Especially not when Marc had been so rough with you.

It was a routine that was being broken, a sacred step you didn’t know needed spoken out loud.

You swallow thickly, peeling your eyes open.

You don’t like the dirty, used feeling that’s overwhelming you, like you did not matter.

Pushing yourself up is a monumental task, the ache of your bones like the grinding of cinder blocks against your flesh. You glance over your shoulder at the door.

Then there’s a clatter from the bathroom and the door swings open, Steven emerging in only a pair of briefs. He still doesn’t say anything as he approaches and encourages you with gentle hands to roll over, the brief warmth of a washcloth between your legs.

Which is odd.

Because Steven would normally lie with you and talk with you, until you were coherent again, until you were secure enough for him to move away without feeling the sting of abandonment.

Steven also talked almost non-stop to you, never without something to say.

Normally, you would throw on a shirt and play cards in bed, watch something on your laptop. Sometimes, Steven would just hold you and talk. Sometimes, he would make love to you again.

But none of that happened until you were ready.

Steven still doesn’t speak to you as he climbs back into bed, handing you Marc’s discarded shirt, which he gingerly helps you sit up and slip on.

Steven’s head twitches toward the mirror, and you watch him watch his reflection for a moment. You frown, wondering what Marc could be saying to him. Marc, who always and without fail disappeared and walled himself off from both of you.

And then it dawns on you.

In your post-orgasm haze, and without the sound of his voice, you hadn’t noticed the signs that this was very clearly Marc still fronting, not Steven.

Marc never stayed with you, never.

Your throat is tight when he doesn’t say anything, his head is still swiveled toward the mirror, brows drawing tighter together with each passing minute.

“Hey,” you clear your throat, “c’mere.”

You snuggle down and hold out your arms.

You half expect him to huff out an exasperated breath and lay back but avoid your touch.

But he doesn’t.

He curls into your arms, nudging his nose into the hollow at the base of your throat. He cradles you close, inhaling gently.

But to your utter surprise, he lets you smooth your hands over his shoulders, through his unruly curls. The motion of it soothes you, comforts you.

You glance toward the mirror and wish that you could see Steven there too, so you could ask what was going on in Marc’s head, why he was pretending to be Steven.

“You okay?” You say as he lets you run a hand down his face, over the ridge of scar above his brow.

It takes Marc a long time to respond, buried in your skin as he is, breathing you in, tracing rough hands along your hips and over your thighs, massaging where he knows you must be sore.

You kiss the top of his head, blearily giving him all the love he was usually too prickly to receive.

He nods against you, so you slip hands down his back, over his hair. You aren’t sure why he’s pretending, but you find you don’t mind. It’s the kind of love you always want to shower Marc with but that he rarely allows.

You want to ask him why, why he didn’t let Steven front. But you worry he might think you’re asking to see Steven, that you don’t want him there with you.

Emotionally, Marc was a fortress, impenetrable and soldily quiet. Things simmered down in his gut, pushed away and down down down, until they overwhelmed him, until they burst to the surface in a violent torrent.

Most often, it was when someone he loved was in danger, when the past became something he could no longer stare down, when the things he avoided were impossible to ignore.

And you’re terribly afraid that if you say anything now, he’ll clam up, shut down, pull away from you, leave the flat and take your heart with him.

Gently, you slide down, until you’re eyelevel with him, one hand against his neck, thumb tracing the line of his jaw carefully.

You feel Marc’s hands go to the small of your back, big hands gingerly tugging you closer, until your nose is touching his, until you share the same air.

And you can hardly believe that the man who had smacked your pussy, held you down and fucked you until you felt like you couldn’t breathe, whispered filthy things in your ear that you can hardly remember, that your brain fuzzes out when you think about too much - is now holding you so gently you may as well be made of delicate glass, is now allowing you to stroke your hands through his hair, pet his broad shoulders. His eyes are closed, trust you didn’t think Marc possessed pouring over you in waves.

You know why.

You know why he’s doing this.

Marc would rather accept love in the guise of his alter than ever believe he was worthy of it himself.

You think about the hatred that lives inside Marc, about the self-hatred that loomed always at the back of his mind. The hatred that ran so deep, that he felt so potently, that even his alter had thought the worst of him at first.

Killer, mercenary, cold-blooded.

Things that Marc accepted into the folds of who he was without question.

Marc never let you hold him like this, and so you do so for as long as you can bear, tilting your chin into his so you can kiss him softly, feeling the slow drift of his hands down your sides to the curve of your ass, over the bruised skin of your hips and thighs. He hooks his fingers behind your knee and tugs your leg over his hip.

You finger a curl at the back of his neck, the glow of brown skin molten in the low light of the flat.

You swallow and hope that you don’t drive him away, but you can’t stand it any longer - his thinking that this is softness you would only grace Steven with.

“Marc,” you whisper. “I know it's you.”

Even the way they hold you is different. Of course, you can always tell. You did not need their voices to tell you who was fronting.

Marc’s eyes flash open and you’re surprised to see fear there.

You hold fast to him, though he doesn’t try to pull away. You raise a questioning brow and resume your gentle ministrations, trying to show him without words that you did not treat him carefully because you thought he was Steven.

“How’d you know?”

You shake your head and press your thumb against the center of his chin, “I can always tell. It’s not something you can really hide.”

He tries to tug his face away from your hand but you don’t let him, stubbornly making him look into your eyes.

“Baby,” you say, “You know that you are just as deserving-,”

“Don’t,” he says sharply. “Don’t do that.”

“But you are, Marc. I always want to do this but you always leave me,” you stoke a hand through his hair. “I know Steven has talked to you about it, too. Told you that you don’t have to go.”

Marc is stiff against you and you consider for a moment letting him go.

But you don’t.

You hold on, and murmur, “It’s okay to want this. It’s okay.” You keep feathering your hand through his hair, your touch as gentle as you can make it. “I love you, you know.” You touch the gold chain around his neck and finally glance away from his eyes, staring at the hollow of his throat instead as you say, “You don’t always have to have your walls up. I’m not - I won’t -,” you stop and consider your next words. “I love you exactly as you are.”

There’s a long moment of silence after that, one in which your heart beats painfully fast and you wait for Marc to push you away.

But it doesn’t come, his body slowly relaxes against yours again, your fingers continuing their careful press against his skin.

His head tips toward the mirror on the wall, and he nods after a few long minutes, carefully plucking up one of your hands, to kiss each of your fingers, the flat of your palm, and then to curl them closed again, hold your hand against his chest.

You can feel the steady thrum of his heart, and Marc doesn’t look at you when he says. “I want it too.”

You wait a moment but he doesn’t say more.

“I’m happy to give it to you, Marc.”

“You - you give too much as it is.” He pauses for a long moment, before pushing you onto your back, hovering over you, his eyes darting over your face.

And you’re amazed, wondering, at the love struck expression he wears, like you were the pinnacle of a universe that barely made sense, that was barely held together.

“Steven deserves this,” he nods down at you. “He’s never-,”

You hear the unspoken words - that is why Steven was born after all, to be all the things Marc thought he wasn’t, to shield himself.

“Stop it. Marc, you are not your past. You are not bad. You carry around the weight of the world and these sins you think are yours alone. They aren’t.” You tip your head up to nudge your nose against his, Marc’s hands pinning both of yours to the space beside your shoulders.

Marc is looking at you in that intense way of his, brows furrowed, mouth tilted in that overly-serious line.

“And what if I don’t think I deserve it, huh? To get you like this?”

“Don’t listen to you, then. Listen to me.” You hitch your knees up to frame his hips, holding him against you, levering pressure into the backs of his thighs until he drops down fully against you. “You deserve it. More than most.”

You know everything he’s ever done is flashing through his mind. His brother’s death and his mother’s wrath. His time as a mercenary, his time in the military. The way he thinks he breaks and folds and isn’t strong enough, never strong enough, not enough. The mistake of Khonshu. The way he thinks he failed Layla and Steven, and that he will do it all over again.

“Hey,” you nudge his jaw again. “Quit that.”

Marc nods slowly, intense stare pinning you down. “I deserve it.” He says it like he expects you to disagree with him, to laugh.

“Yes,” you breathe. “I’ll remind you of that.” He releases your wrists, burying his nose in your neck, the breath he sucks in is shaky and wild, the drum beat of a storm he stored inside the stoic stone that surrounded his heart.

You cup a hand against the back of his neck, your other hand sliding down his side, tracing the violent scars that dot his ribs. Carefully, you slide his boxers down his thighs. Your touch is soft against him, your body already welcoming to him, and he slides into you with a quiet groan.

It’s not like making love with Steven, who was sillier and goofier than Marc would ever be.

It’s different to how Marc normally fucks you, when the mood strikes him to give it to you slow.

This time, it's sweet, it's like the smoky burn of incense, like the homecoming he’d been waiting for for years. Marc kisses you softly, groans into your mouth when he was normally quiet aside to talk to you, demand things from you.

You tighten your legs around him, encourage him to move slower, push deeper.

“Fuck,” he whispers against the delicate skin of your neck.

Sweat beads on his forehead, the glow of him against you like the sun. When you push the curls back from his forehead to look into his eyes, you catch something vulnerable in your heart, like the knife of everything Marc was storming into you.

“Fuck,” he murmurs again.

He ducks his head to kiss a path along your throat, where earlier his palm had circled the flesh.

You drag your nails along his back, rub a hand through his hair, rock the cradle of your hips along with his.

Marc reaches for one of your hands, kisses your fingers before guiding your hand to your cunt, “Sorry baby, I’m not gonna last. Need you to touch yourself for me.”

You’re only a little bit shocked, but you tip his chin up to kiss him. Marc normally had a stamina that could win awards.

Not now, it seemed. Not when you had given him permission to be slow and gentle and soft.

Your breath is squeezed from your lungs, the heavy drag of him inside you almost enough to make you come.

Marc doesn’t let you breathe, his mouth an insistent press against yours until you pull away with a gasp and you hear the sound of a quiet laugh against your throat, teeth digging into your jaw.

You come unexpectedly, hips jerking up to meet him as Marc gives a harder thrust, looping an arm beneath one of your knees to open you up more, to slide that much deeper.

The spot he hits within you makes your toes curl, makes it hard to catch a breath.

“I can destroy you like this too, huh?” Marc asks, grinding against you, hips swirling as you groan from the breathless pleasure darting up your spine.

“Don’t ruin this, Spector,” you huff, nipping at his jaw, only laughing a little.

“Keep touching yourself. I didn’t say to stop,” he answers.

Your eyes roll back when his tongue curls against the hollow of your throat. “I want you to come again,” his voice is a husky rasp in your ear.

You’re still wearing Marc’s shirt, but when he releases your leg to palm your breasts through the fabric, you regret ever letting him partially dress you.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs, “You’re so tense. Come for me again, hm? Come for me.” When he pinches your nipple and rolls it between his fingers, you do. White hot pleasure courses up your spine, makes your mind go blank. “Fuck, are you coming?”

“Yes,” you moan, “I’m coming for you.”

“For me,” he repeats. “For me.”

“Marc,” you whisper, pleasure making your vision go fuzzy, your exhausted body trembling. “Marc, I love you.”

His hand goes to your ass, angles your hips, before he thrusts so deep you see stars and he spills inside you.

You make sure to wrap your arms around his head, tightening your grip until he wiggles. “Can’t breathe, baby.” But you don’t want him to go anywhere, you don’t want the idea to even occur to him.

You loosen your grip but say, “Don’t leave.”

Marc’s jaw tightens, “Sorry about that.”

“S’ok. Just don’t go.”

“Not going anywhere tonight, honey.”

You nod, nuzzling your nose against his cheek when Marc takes your hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing your fingers and wrist, your forearm, the crease of your elbow.

“Stop that,” you grouse, a giggle at the tip of your tongue.

“I’m obsessed with you. I can’t.”

You do laugh then, and he rolls you onto your side. He slips free from you and you feel the emptiness immediately, but then Marc is kissing you again, insistent and demanding, and it's forgotten. His fingers dance up the column of your spine, tracing the delicate vertebrae of bone with soft fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he whispers. It's so rare to see him without that stoic facade, the burned in self-hatred, that your heart gives a painful thump.

You kiss his sweaty brow and think to remind him of something. “You’re so good, Marc. You deserve good things. You deserve kindness.”

He doesn’t answer and you know he’s fighting down that automatic response, so ingrained into him it was almost a part of his DNA.

“I deserve it,” he murmurs eventually and you figure it's as close as you’ll get to agreement.

Marc lets you hold him, and he doesn’t try to move once.

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader smut #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #moon knight

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peachesofteal · 3 months

Note

i would love a book recommendation list from you whenever you have the time to write one up :-)

Hi! I put together a list of everything I've personally read and enjoyed. Please remember these are my personal recs. To each their own. These are fantasy/high fantasy recs only, and one science fiction because I cannot resist talking about Dune.

Mistborn (7 books split into two eras) and The Stormlight Archive (4 books) - Brandon Sanderson - Just read them. I can't even begin to cover the way I have consumed the Cosmere (his multiverse). Complex magical systems that make sense. These are my number one recommendation.

The Poppy War (and it's two subsequent books)- R. F. Kuang - technically it's military-ish fantasy. The magic blends really well and I didn't put these down. I loved how Rin was more morally grey. It teaches, too.

Wheel of Time (sixteen ish books) - Robert Jordan with an assist from Brandon Sanderson at the end - one of my favs. Typical hero stuff but I love the world and the magic system. I watch the show too, and would recommend if you want to get a little excited about reading them. This series ruined me for a while, it was really hard to get into anything else.

Malazan - ten books - Steven Erickson. I read these a while ago but they’re very engrossing.

The Priory of the Orange Tree (and A Day of Fallen Night) - Samantha Shannon - I devoured these! Really liked them. Sometimes the pacing is a little weird but… would recommend.

All Souls Trilogy - Deborah Harkness - okay it’s historical fantasy but definitely check these out. Witches, vampires, demons… dark haired love interest and Deborah Harkness really weaves the history so well, I loved them. She has an additional book in this universe that I didn’t like so much BUT she has a new one coming out soon and I’m excited.

And finally... Dune - Frank Herbert (only, NOT the books his kids wrote. So six titles, ending with Chapterhouse: Dune) - Science Fiction. If you’ve seen the first movie you more or less than know the premise but I promise you there is so much more. I am aware that some interpretations of this story reduce it to a white savior narrative but that’s simply NOT the case and you would have no idea unless you actually read the full six books.

Last thing: I don’t recommend jumping from series to series. Take a break or read a romcom. These stories are deeply detailed and very engulfing. Learning new worlds, magical systems, religions, races, etc when you change books can be confusing and do a disservice to the book and yourself. “The first book” in a lot these can be hard to chew or digest because you’re learning so much, so keep that in mind! 🩵

#peaches asks #book recommendations #book recs

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tiredwitchplant · 7 months

Text

Everything You Need to Know About Crystals: Peridot

Peridot (The Tears of Pele)

*Yes Peridot from Steven Universe is here. She demanded to be added okay!?

Color: Olive Green to Yellow-Green

Rarity: Easy to Obtain, Harder to higher quality

Hardiness: 6.5 – 7

Type: Orthorhombic (Gem form of Olivine)

Chakra Association: Heart and Solar Plexus

Angels: Achaiah or Raphael

Deities: Pele and Isis

Birthstone: August

Astrological Signs: Leo, Libra, Gemini, and Capricorn

Element: Earth

Planet: Venus and the Sun

Origin: Brazil, Hawaii, Myanmar, Egypt, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, USA

Powers: Purification, Cleansing, Wealth, Happiness, Prosperity, Protection

Crystals It Works Well With: Rutilated Quartz, Rose Quartz, Sunstone, Carnelian, Tourmaline, and Citrine

How It is Created: Peridot is the gemstone variety of olivine, a mineral made up of magnesium, iron and silicate compound. The higher proportions of magnesium and iron are used to identifying the key features in the gem, while the chromium and nickel impurities contribute to its beautiful green color. Some specimens of peridot can even appear in meteorites called pallisites and found during volcanic activity on the island of Oahu in Hawaii.

History: The Egyptians mined peridot on the island of Zebirget, which is located in the Red Sea. Egyptians used the gem for over 4,000 years and was even said to be Cleopatra’s favorite. It is regarded as a sacred stone during Medieval times and was even used in the design of the Shrine of the Three Kings in Germany. Peridot crystals found in the black volcanic sands of Hawaii are said to be the tears of the Goddess, Pele. Now most of the world’s peridot comes from Arizona or Pakistan.

What It Can Do:

Keep away evil spirits and great for protecting aura

Releases and neutralizes toxins on all levels

Purifies the subtle and physical body and mind

Opens, cleanses, and activates the heart and solar plexus chakra to release “old baggage”

Clears the feelings of burden, guilt, and obsession

Guides you to better influences

Alleviates jealousy, resentment, spite, anger and stress.

Enhances confidence and assertion without aggression

Sharpens the minds and opens it to new levels of awareness

Banishes lethargy, bringing to your attention all things you have neglected

Is said to heal and regenerate tissues and strengthen the metabolism

How to Get the Best Out Of: Peridot works best near the throat area and heart area of your body so a peridot pendant or necklace would be best.

How to Cleanse and Charge: Cleanse using smoke or running it over water. Charge it by placing it under a windowsill during a full moon.

Talisman:

Social Media Talisman

Peridot ring, worn on the hand you scroll with

Chalice

Moon water

1 small piece fresh or dried valerian root

1 fresh lemon slice

Cleanse and empower your ring with the ability to dispel feelings of envy and inadequacy.

Gather your materials in a sunny area during a waning moon.

Fill the chalice with moon water.

Take the valerian root in your hand and hold it in the direct sunlight.

Say, “Valerian root that calm sting, add self-assurance to my ring.” Visualize it absorbing the sun and pulsing with a gentle, light. Place it in the chalice.

Hold the lemon slice up to the sun, feeling the illumination and bright energy coming from it.

Say, “Bright yellow lemon with a bite, filter that which befalls my sight.”

Squeeze the lemon slice so the juice goes into the chalice.

Now the chalice holds a soothing brew imbued with calm from the valerian, confidence from sunlight, and optimistic realism from the lemon.

Put the peridot ring in the chalice and let it sit in the sun for about an hour.

Retrieve your peridot ring from the chalice and wear it. Pour the water into the earth.

The ring help ground you in reality while filtering your impressions of what you consume on social me protecting your self-confidence and dispelling any feelings of jealousy or inadequacy.

Perform this spell in direct sunlight, if possible, to illuminate the truth and soothe uncertainty. If you don’t have a chalice, use a bowl, or any kind of cup. Moon water is water that has been left outdoors under the full moon to absorb its power.

Sources

#witchblr #witch community #witchcraft #occulltism #crystals #crystal witch #paganblr #witch #witch blog #nature #rocks #peridot #olivine #minerals #uncut gems #geology #gemstones

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scekrex · 1 month

Note

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙

Request 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Pearl from Steven Universe like male reader x Adam, when Adam first joined the exorcis Adam had y/n on his side loyal to Adam did anything and everything for Adam just like pearl and so ever since y/n stuck with Adam until he died womp womp but y/n trust to help Adam fight with Lucifer but Adam won't lesson ( you can pick one or both I can't decide 🙃 ) so he cut of his wings to stay with Adam, Charlie asked y/n if he can stay in the hazbin hotel with no place to go he accepts the request then after a few days y/n finds Adam or he goes back to heaven and griefs and has to be the next leader of the exorcist. 🙂👍

"WHY WON'T YOU LET ME DO THIS FOR YOU ADAM!?"

"I need someone to tell me what to do."

"He made me feel like I was everything."

"Everything I ever did, I did for him but now he's gone and I am still here."

"YOU CAN UNDERSTAND HOW I FEEL! NONE OF YOU HAD WHAT WE HAD!"

If you can thank you pookie 💕💕💕

So I went with the 'reader tears of his own wings and stays in hell' situation. If you want me to write reader as the next exorcist leader and the struggles that come w that position, lemme know!

With broken wings we're fallin'

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, self harm, low-key canon typical violence

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

Your soul felt empty, just a big void that consumed you from the inside, that swallowed all your feelings and emotions until all that was left was cold, lonely emptiness.

Adam has died.

The person that you had sworn to protect, that you had loved - fuck that, you still love him - more than anyone. He was dead, stabbed brutally by that little demon bitch. There had been blood everywhere, for Christ's sake, his blood had been on your hands too as you had held him. Everything had been coated in golden liquid, it had made you feel dizzy.

You remembered it so clearly, the day you two had first met. He had just been announced leader of the exorcists and Sera had assigned you and Lute to assist him. You quickly bonded with Adam, he was a pretty chill guy once you got to know him and despite him claiming otherwise, he had a soft side for those he cared about. That mainly included you and Lute.

And then the flirting had started, the ‘babes’, the touching, the ‘shit you look hot today’. It had been wonderful, to love and be loved. Now that was gone, brutally torn from your hands by the sinners you had sworn to kill.

After Adam's death, you had stayed in hell, not because they weren't letting you go back to heaven, but because you chose to. You had failed Adam, you had failed yourself. You didn't deserve heaven. You deserved damnation for the rest of your existence.

The exorcists had already left heaven as you kneeled next to Adam's corpse and prayed, prayed to the all nightly lord above that Adam would find peace. Your wings were spread, shielded you and your dead boyfriend from whatever was going on behind you. The devil's daughter, her father and her friends stood there in silence, their eyes on you, confused by your reaction. They didn't know Adam had someone special, someone who actually cared about him. Lucifer wanted to interrupt the scene but Charlie held him back, “Dad. Let him have this moment. His boyfriend passed.” So the devil relaxed, not pleased with the order his daughter had placed, but he accepted it. At least for now.

You looked down at the first man's face, it was as white as a ghost, his eyes stared up at you lifelessly and it killed you inside. Your hands reached for your wings, nails dug into them and you started to pull. It hurt but the physical pain was bearable, it was survivable compared to the emotional pain you went through. “What is he doing?” Charlie asked and Lucifer just watched in silence. He knew, Vaggie knew too. And then the sound of tearing echoed through the air and a shocked gasp followed the painful scream that escaped your lips.

The wings fell out of your hand and onto the ground, blood tickled down your back but you couldn't bring yourself to care, not when the physical pain numbed your emotions so well. The blood felt warm against your skin and for a moment it reminded you of Adam's warmth, of the warmth you felt whenever he had wrapped his arms around you, the warmth that had filled you with every kiss he had gifted to you.

But numbness was temporary and your emotions caught up quicker than you liked them to. So the next thing that provided warmth were the tears that started to stream down your reddened cheeks. You were alone again. All alone in hell, the only person you ever cared about was gone.

The weeks had passed and nothing had changed. Well, that wasn't true. A lot had changed, actually, life in hell was different from life in heaven, but you've known that before you had lived here. Charlie had offered you a room at the hotel. You weren't truly a sinner, your fate wasn't forced onto you, yet she saw the good. And you had accepted because where the fuck were you supposed to go anyways? The only thing left was the ring Adam had given to you a couple thousands years ago. That was it. His body had disappeared, Lucifer had said something along the lines of 'Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.' Whatever that had to do with Adam.

You sat on the floor of the lobby as the others were chatting. It was some kind of board game evening but you weren't feeling like it, just sat there and stared against the blank wall. “I need someone to tell me what to do,” you whispered and Charlie immediately shifted her attention from the game to you. With questioning eyes and a soft voice she asked, “What do you mean?” Without looking at her you sighed as you pulled your knees against your chest and slowly rocked back and forth. It gave you some sort of comfort. “Everything I ever did, I did for him but now he's gone,” your nails dug into your shins, leaving angry red marks as tears welled up in your eyes, “And I'm still here.”

Angel rolled his eyes at that, “He just wants fucking attention, why's he here anyway? It's not like he's forced to be here, he chose that shit.” You only heard him say these words and angry replied, “You can't fucking understand how I feel. None of you fuck-ups had what Adam and I had.” Husk huffed at that, “Yeah and we're fucking greatful for that.”

But Charlie shook her head, clearly disagreeing with the porn demon, “This hotel is not only about redemption Angel, it's about changing in general. Y/N is lost in the dark, we can guide him back to the light.” You huffed but didn't comment on it, why was she so fucking damn right?

The princess of hell got up to sit down next to you, pausing the game officially. “Do you wanna talk about it? About him?” you wouldn't have imagined that Charlie would ever offer you such a thing, she hated Adam, fuck, she probably hated you too. Yet she tried her best to comfort you. “He made me feel like I was everything,” you started and the others turned towards you at that.

Adam? Making someone else feel special? Not in their universe.

“He always acted all rough and badass in public but when we were alone he was… soft. He cared, more than he would've admitted but he cared. And he loved, he always made sure I feel loved because-” you were interrupted by the front door swinging open. And there he stood. “Sup bitches, what did-” he stopped as soon as his eyes landed on you. The golden eyes widened in shock. “What the fuck are you doing here?” the both of you spoke at the same time. You got up from the floor quickly, pushing Charlie out of the way in order to get to Adam.

“How?” you whispered once you had reached him, your hands roamed over his face. The feeling of his familiar features on your skin was unbelievable, it made a new will to live spark up in you. “No fucking idea, but why are you still here?” he hummed, his eyes were looking straight into yours, oh how he had missed your pretty eyes. They were just as golden as his own, yet so different, so unique. “I-” you wanted to explain as Adam interrupted you yet again, “And where the fuck are your wings?” His hands traced over the wounds, the wounds were still healing, touching them made you flinch away. The first man's eyes darkened as he looked at the other hotel residents, “Who did that?” You were quick to force his attention back onto you, “I did that, they have nothing to do with that.”

“But why? Your wings were so perfect so-” he stopped himself this time. You continued for him, “They had been holy Adam. I'm not holy, not after failing you.” His big hands softly cupped your cheeks as a tiny smile appeared on his lips, how you had missed this smile, so subtle yet it meant everything. “You fucking idiot.” You knew it meant ‘You didn't fail me’ and ‘Stop that fucking bullshit right now’. But you couldn't help but feel like you did. He had died, he had been reborn a sinner.

All because of you, all because you hadn't been quick enough to stop Niffty.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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novamirmirsblog · 2 years

Text

Steven's Mom

Genre: fluff/angst/smut +18

Pairing: Natasha x reader

Word count: 3874

Request: no

Warnings: poorly written smut, cheating

A/n: This literally took me a good month to write, so I think it's safe to say this may be a little bit shit. If the punctuation seems off, it's cause Grammarly keeps being weird and making suggestions -_- BUT ENJOY! Cause I'm not sure when the next fic will be finished XD Yes, smoking is bad but holy shit is it hot when the right people do it.

Masterlist Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Relationships.

That word has always scared you.

Your friends would talk about their recent boyfriends and how they were going on cute group dates and where was your boyfriend Y/n?

Your answer was always that there was no point in settling down with one person when you were yet to try them all. Especially seeing as you had only just reached your 23rd birthday.

Sure, some may have seen that as 'flighty behaviour' and yes, perhaps you should have gotten a therapist when you were a lot younger - but you were always told you were going to be a heartbreaker and the long trail of flings you left in your wake was testimony to this.

Perhaps heartbreaker was a strong word. You were sure that only going on a few dates with a guy hardly led to their hearts being broken but you were pretty and could accentuate your almost forgotten accent which made all the boys fall into a line.

You had moved to America with your family when you were 16 but due to your desire to fit in, you had worked extremely hard on switching your native accent for an American one. It felt as if you were betraying your family but it was too late to break that habit 7 years on.

Using people as a means to an end is never a good plan. Especially when that person was a friend but when Steven had asked you out, you couldn't help but see a goldmine of opportunities.

Steven was sweet. He was the kind of all-American guy that was shoved down the western media consumer's throats. He played baseball throughout his school career and taught the little leagues on weekends. He had the body of a god and the heart of a saint.

For all intended purposes, Steven was perfect.

Steven would be your salvation.

~~~~~

After 3 weeks of non-stop dating, your university friends wanted to see the boy who had managed to keep the notorious serial dater interested for more than one date. You decided to introduce them all, telling your university friends that Steven was a friend from high school.

Obviously they all swooned.

You truly were living the 'American dream'. However your American dream all came crashing down one Tuesday night.

It had been two months since the first date and Steven had invited you over to his house after seeing a movie. You took your shoes off and hung up your jackets before you both made your way to the kitchen. Steven backed you up to the kitchen counter, kissing along your neck using too much tongue. You were a strong believer that neck kisses should be mostly teeth. The tongue was reserved for other acts. The sound of heels filled you with relief. You liked Steven but he needed to work on his game. It seemed that Steven was too engrossed to realise his mother was standing in the doorway.

You locked eyes with her and let out a soft gasp. You thought you saw her left eyebrow twitch but you couldn't be sure because as she took a step towards you, the trance broke and you pushed Steven away.

"Babe?"

She cleared her throat and Steven spun on the spot, his jaw dropping in a comical way before closing again as his face went red. "I can explain..."

"No need to explain Stevie, just don't do it in my kitchen please."

"T-this is Y/n, Y/n, this is my mom."

"Natasha." She extended her hand for you to shake.

"It's nice to meet you Mrs Romanoff." You shook her hand.

"Please dear, I've been divorced for years. It's Ms now."

"Of course. Sorry." You apologised, the urge to wipe your boyfriend's saliva from your neck was growing the longer this conversation went on.

"No need to apologise lyubov."

"Well, we're just gonna go up to my room now..." Steven gave his mother a kiss on her cheek before leading you out of the kitchen.

~~~~~

You stayed the night with Steven but when you awoke, you were in an empty bed. To say you were disappointed would be a lie but you were a little offended that Steven had left you to wake up on your own. Just because you weren't utterly infatuated with him didn't mean he could leave you in his house without so much as a goodbye.

You debated whether or not you should wear the clothes you had from yesterday or steal one of Steven's many, many hoodies. You decided on the latter. One benefit Steven bought was the fact his hoodies absolutely engulfed you, the bottom of the jumper comfortably resting just above mid-thigh.

You crept out of the house, not realising a pair of eyes followed you the entire way down the drive, cigarette smoke obscuring her view.

~~~~~

You didn't see Steven till the following weekend. Personally, you felt it was too soon to be seeing him again, but you had put him off for longer than he would have liked, so you indulged him. The two of you decided to get milkshakes before going on a walk about the local park. It was a predictably mediocre date, and your mind drifted from Steven's blonde hair to a deep auburn. You weren't sure why you were thinking of red hair till you remembered that was the colour of Steven's mum's hair. You hadn't even realised Steven was talking to you till you saw him looking at you expectantly.

"Sorry babe, what was that?"

Steven laughed "Are you ever here Y/n? I was asking if you wanted to come back to my place?" He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in.

"Sure. I wanna drive though." You smirked at him, knowing there was no way he would let you behind the wheel of his precious baby.

"Ha ha." Steven mocked "Get your pretty ass in the car."

~~~~~

The first crack in your perfect American dream life happened when Steven left you alone.

Steven had forgotten he was supposed to be at baseball practice. You were flicking through Netflix, Amazon and Disney+, unable to choose anything, when you heard the front door open and close. You assumed it was Steven coming back, but the slender fingers that slid down your shoulders made you tense and turn around. You strained your neck, looking up at Natasha, her hands still resting on your shoulders.

"No Steven?" She asked, her eyebrow gently raised.

"He" You cleared your throat before continuing, hoping to focus on something other than her hands.

"He..." Natasha prompted you to continue, her thumbs gently creeping up to where your top exposed your neck.

"Had to do something with the little leagues." You rushed out, trying to stop the heat in your cheeks.

"And he left you all on your own, poor thing." Natasha said, drawing shapes along your shoulders as you tried to suppress a shiver.

You weren't sure who the 'poor thing' was. Whether it was you, or Steven.

"You know, I hide my accent too." Natasha said, her lips felt dangerously close to your ear as she let her Russian accent coat her words. "How about you let me hear your real accent too?"

You watched as she moved around the sofa, coming to stand in front of you.

"Um, I mean, I don't know what to say..." You said, your own voice sounding foreign to you as you spoke in your native accent for the first time in years. Not even Steven had heard your true accent.

Yet here you were, showing it to a woman you had met twice.

"krasivaya" Natasha reached under your chin, tilting your head up at her.

"W-what?"

"It means beautiful."

You swallowed, unable to move as she let her fingertips run down the front of your neck.

"Natasha..."

"Yes, sweets?" She responded, her eyes held a gleam that her words did not reflect.

"I don't think this is appropriate."

"What isn't appropriate?"

That made you pause. You weren't sure what made this interaction inappropriate, but you were certain it wasn't. The way your heart pounded in your chest in a way it never did with Steven confirmed that idea. Although your words said that this was wrong, your body didn't want this to stop. With every movement Natasha's nails made against your throat, more goosebumps erupted.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"...no"

"What was that?"

"No." You said with more confidence than before.

"That's what I thought." Natasha bought her fingers back up to your chin as she leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you till your lips crashed. She moved to sit on the sofa next to you, and you put your leg over hers, moving closer to her. You sat on her lap, fiddling with the top of her mom jeans as she ran her hands through your hair, getting lipstick all over your lips. You rested your arms around her neck as she ran her hands under your top, making you moan into her mouth. She shuffled under you, making your hips bump against each other. You bit her lower lip, and it was her turn to moan, the sound travelling down your throat. She pulled away after that, resting her forehead against yours, her eyes still closed as you opened yours.

You weren't sure how long you sat there with Natasha underneath you, but it was long enough for the sun to dip below the horizon. The two of you didn't say anything, but you didn't need to. It was a kind of peaceful silence you never had with Steven.

Your phone buzzed, breaking you out of your peaceful bubble.

It was your brother.

"Fuck. I've gotta go." You stood up, instantly noticing the lack of warmth you suddenly craved. You grabbed your coat and left the house, shouting a hurried goodbye to Natasha.

~~~~~

You received a text later that night from an unknown number. The only thing that gave the identity away was the sign-off, 'сладких снов'. You looked it up.

It was Russian.

Natasha had wished you sweet dreams.

~~~~~

There was something off with you, and Steven was beginning to notice. Steven usually hated his name; he was named after his mother's close friend. A close friend that had led to the breakdown of his parent's marriage. He hated it until he heard you say it. It sounded like peaceful autumn afternoons. In fact, you often reminded him of autumn. To begin with, it was your sweet laugh that reminded him of warm autumn colours, but as time went on, he realised while you were like autumn, he was summer. As often as he wished it wasn't true, Steven knew the thing he had with you could never last.

Steven knew something was wrong. He just couldn't quite put his finger on it.

~~~~~

Natasha came to your student accommodation on a chilly night in October. The two of you had been texting non-stop in a way you had never experienced with anyone else you had met. She was like an addiction you didn't want to quit.

The two of you wasted little time undressing, and you found yourself hitting the bed with the back of your legs as Natasha ran her hands through your hair, kissing you fervently. She placed her hands on your lower back, easing you onto the bed as she climbed on top of you, legs slotted between yours comfortably. Your neck burned as she kissed her way down it, letting her teeth graze against the soft skin.

"No marks." You panted out, pushing your chin to the ceiling so she could get better access to you.

Natasha made an almost growling sound, the frustration clear as she shoved two fingers into your wet core with little warning.

"Just wait till you're completely mine, printsessa. Everyone will know who gets to leave marks on you."

All you could do was moan, the sound brushing over Natasha's ear.

"Shhh, printsessa" She took the fingers that weren't currently pumping in and out of you to your lips, "we don't want your roommates hearing. They'll wonder why you're enjoying it so much." Natasha scoffs before adding, "There's no way you sound like this with Steven."

The sound of your boyfriend's name leaving her mouth felt wrong, but you didn't have time to feel guilty when you felt Natasha's tongue licking long stripes along your clit. You fell into bliss as you bit your lip hard to stop Natasha's name from escaping. The tinge of metal that spilled onto your tongue made you almost cum again. Natasha looked up at you, her hair beginning to stick to her forehead as she winked.

You panted as she kissed her way up your body.

"How about you make me feel good, darling."

It was your turn to slide down the length of her body till you got to her hot core. Your limbs were heavy, and while you wanted to lie peacefully, you wanted to make Natasha cum more. You had a feeling it wouldn't take long, judging from the way her hips bucked ever so slightly as your breath tickled over her. You grazed your teeth gently over her clit, making her moan before leaving a hickey on her inner thigh.

"Hey!" She let out breathlessly, digging her nails into your scalp and pulling you away by your hair. "What makes you think you can leave marks on me."

"But you look so pretty with them." You pouted for a beat, seeing her expression stay stoikly unimpressed, before adding "Mommy." Her pupils blew even more, and you could have sworn she let out a whimper. Her grip tightened momentarily at the title and you took it as a sign to continue.

You continued to lick and suck, putting two, then three fingers in. You watched as she arched her back and moaned out your name. When she was finished, You took your fingers out, licking them clean as the two of you refused to break eye contact.

You lay there in her arms as she drew patterns across your back and gently scratched your neck. "It's late."

Natasha hummed in agreement.

"You should probably stay the night, right?"

You craned your neck to try to see her expression. Natasha put a finger under your chin and leaned down. "That's probably a good idea." She said, her cocky grin stayed on her face till she gently captured your lips.

That night the two of you slept more peacefully than you had in years.

~~~~~

You lay stomach down on the bed, Steven's voice echoed through your room. He smiled through the screen.

"Baby, I'll pick you up tomorrow at 7:30 for dinner." he grinned. He knew something was off but wanted to hold on to the dream for a little longer.

"Yay! I can't wait!" You were lucky the American accent made just about anything sound enthusiastic

Natasha stirred, turning in her sleep, rustling the sheets gently as she re-adjusted.

"Who was that?" Your boyfriend asked.

"Oh, just one of my friends staying over." You rolled onto your back, accidentally giving Steven a glimpse of silky hair. The movement gently jostled her, disturbing her sleep, causing her nose to scrunch up as she began to wake.

"Okay baby, I've got to go now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Love you, see you tomorrow." You hang up the FaceTime just as you felt a gaze burn into your skin.

"Morning." She grumbled out, sleep making her voice husky.

"Good Morning." You smiled at her as she rubbed her eyes, waking up fully. "We have to tell him."

"Hmm." She closed her eyes again, you were half convinced she had gone back to asleep.

"Not tomorrow though." Her plump lips seemed even fuller from both last night's activities and sleep. "Tomorrow, you have your date." Her mocking tone did not go over your head. She searched the nightstand for the pack of cigarettes she had left there. However, she quickly gave up, settling back down in bed and closing her eyes again.

"Are you jealous?" You asked, a smirk twinging your lips as her eyes snapped open to look at you.

"Of course not. I just didn't think my son was the romantic type, that's all." She said, before kissing you softly.

These early morning kisses were your favourite.

~~~~~

Date night arrived. Or at least it was supposed to. The booking Steven had made got cancelled, so he drove you back to his house, much to your dismay.

You looked hot. Your hair was up, accentuating your long neck and your red lips contrasted beautifully with the black dress that hung lightly off your figure. You were underdressed for autumn, but the previous night with Natasha made you feel beautiful and powerful, and that dress was begging to be worn.

You were confident when you chose that dress but going to Steven's and the thought of having to see Natasha in said dress filled you with dread.

It wasn't that you didn't want Natasha to see the dress; you just didn't want her to see the way Steven looked at you.

You were right to be worried.

It was Natasha who answered the door just as Steven was about to put his key in. The gasp was audible but she played it off as shock that the two of you were back rather than how she felt about you looking like that with him.

"Hi mom. The booking got cancelled." Steven said, his shoulders hung low.

"That is a shame sweetie." She said, rubbing his arm and ushering him into the kitchen. "Good job I just finished cooking."

You and Steven sat opposite each other as Natasha bought the plates of food out. Once everyone had a plate in front of them, she sat next to you. You bit your lip and refused to look up from the plate.

You bit into what looked like a little square pasty and suppressed a moan. Letting out the sound you wanted would only cause more problems than needed. "Wow, this is delicious."

"Thank you krasivaya. They're Pirozhki." Natasha said, her accent bleeding through in a way you knew was deliberate.

You tried to cover up the growing heat in your face by shoving more food in your mouth. Your leg jumped as you felt Natasha's hand on your thigh. You glanced up from your plate, your eyes meeting Steven's as regret punched you in the gut. He was so sweet and didn't deserve what you were doing to him.

This was wrong.

You wanted to move your leg, not wanting to be a cheater. Not in front of the man you were supposed to love. The only thing that stopped you was the wet patch growing in your panties from the way manicured nails traced along your skin.

You let out a sharp sigh, disappointed in yourself and feeling incredibly guilty about how you found out you liked girls. You were hurting an innocent man.

"You okay babe?" Steven asked, his voice full of concern.

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you couldn't take it anymore. You looked at Natasha, and the concern in her eyes was as clear as day. You just hoped she wouldn't hate you for this.

"Stevie, I can't do this anymore." You looked at his beautiful eyes. Eyes that should have been the ones you felt giddy about.

Steven smiled gently "I know."

A sob got caught in your throat. You weren't sure why you were about to cry; whether it was from relief or sadness that you couldn't be what Steven needed, you couldn't tell.

"How..." You trailed off, not sure what you wanted to ask or even how to ask it.

"You've been acting off Y/n. You have been for a few months now. Someone else has caught your attention and that's okay. I just hope they make you happy in a way I couldn't." Steven stood, most likely getting ready to go for a drive.

Tears rolled down your face freely now. The incredible guilt was ten times worse now. He truly was the sweetest man you knew.

"I just need to know, who is it?"

You froze, not wanting to tell him it was his own mother who stole your gaze.

For the first time throughout this entire conversation, Natasha spoke. "Do you really want to know?"

Steven pulled his eyes away from you, his expression turning steely. His jaw clenched, and fear flashed through you briefly. "I can't believe you."

Natasha's nails dug into your leg slightly, the only indication that she was nervous.

"Steven," You desperately let out. You weren't sure how to make this better. It wasn't like you were fucking his friend. This was his literal mother.

"No. No. I, I need to go. I can't stand to look at either of you right now."

Just like that, Steven left your life.

~~~~~

"Well, that went just about as well as could be expected." You sighed, glad that everything was out in the open, but a heaviness still weighed in your chest.

Natasha was standing on the back porch, leaning over the rail, looking into the darkness of the back garden. You had gone out to join her after you had collected yourself.

"Yeah." Natasha said quietly.

"I'm sorry." You weren't sure which bit you were apologising for. Was it the way you strung them both along for so long? Or was it the fact that you had broken a mother and son bond? There were countless crimes you had committed and not enough time in the world to apologise for them all.

Natasha sighed. "It's not your fault. I knew this would happen eventually."

There was a pause before you spoke, you weren't sure if you wanted to hear the answer to your question. "Do you regret it?"

She opened up her cigarette pack, lighting it and taking a drag before she answered. "No." She blew the smoke out from her nose.

"Those things will kill you." You said, watching as her plump lips crawled up into a smirk before blowing a particularly large smoke ring at you.

"Not if you kill me first sweetheart." She closed her eyes and allowed the moonlight to ease away any stress she was holding.

"Do you want to stop this? Before I kill you?" You knew the answer to this question before Natasha even began to speak. Her thoughts hadn't been a mystery to you for a long time now.

"Don't even ask that Y/n." She said, the panic slipping into her words. "I adore you."

"I adore you too."

With one last drag, Natasha snuffed out her cigarette, closing the box and throwing them over the railing into the bin below. She stepped towards you, trapping you between her and the railings. She kissed you harder than she had ever kissed you before, with more desperation than you had ever known.

"Why did you throw your cigarettes?" You asked, shocked that she would throw away the thing that had always been with her.

"I don't need them anymore. You're my new addiction."

#natahsa romanoff #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x you #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #black widow x you #black widow imagine #black widow angst

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olderthannetfic · 10 months

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Re: (721666474305011712): This kind of reminds me of something I've been thinking about for a while, and this ask helped me put it into words. I think part of the problem with the shounen, shoujo, childrens cartoon stans, and YA "fans" the anon describes is the same thing: Adults who have functionally outgrown genre/demographics aimed at kids who then attempt to reimagine the stories as things meant for adults, but when the text falls apart under this premise (because it's still for kids!) they get upset. It's a weird state of arrested Development.

Yes, that YA novel about teenagers destabilizing a corrupt regime has young characters in war settings being taught by adults. It's aimed at kids! Read Dune or The Things They Carried. Yes, in SnK the Eldians thank Eren at the end for trying to help them, not because they approve of genocide (obviously because they kill him and his followers for it) but because of course there's going to be some acknowledgment of "the power of nakama." It's aimed at kids! It's a battle shounen, so it's still bound to some conventions of the genre/demographic like friendship, as sloppy/misplaced as it may be. There's even the power of friendship in Kingdom even though it's also a shounen manga about war that's well-written. Read The Ravages of Time instead. Yes, they're nice to the other oppressive gems in Steven Universe at the end. They're teaching kids about forgiveness.It's not the Iliad or Night. It's for children! Doesn't necessarily mean all things for children are poorly written, but they have to be understood as what they are.

At some point as an adult, you have to learn how to meet stories where they are in order to engage which them properly. Yes, we can read, interpret, and analyze the text as it presents itself, but you also have to place the text in its proper contexts to understand it, as well. When was it created? What is the target audience? What are other works within the same parameters, and what are the genre conventions? There's not really any childrens media that will completely hold up when you interpret it as something for adults with the maturity of adult stories (And this goes doubly for AtLA, not because it's any better or worse as a war story, but it's definitely For Children and doesn't hold a candle to other war stories for adults, despite how many of its fans loudly, annoyingly claim otherwise). We're adults! Enjoy things for adults if you want stories with the maturity for adults! It's time to grow up!

I think much of the issue is that people feel bad for not actually wanting to consume media aimed at adults, and then, sometimes, resentful of other adults who do.

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cartoonrankings · 2 years

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10 Best Serialized Cartoons

This day and age is amazing for cartoon fans because we have many different types of cartoons to enjoy! Whether we prefer serialized or episodic, there is a bunch from both worlds for us! Many typically lead to one side, and while I love episodic cartoons, serialized ones are my favorite! In this blog, I will highlight my 10 best serialized cartoons!

10. Sym-Bionic Titan

I am opening this list up by discussing an underrated gem that deserved way better! Sym-Bionic Titan is a series that ran from 2010 to 2011 for only 20 episodes. The series revolved around Lance, Ilana and Octus who all left their planet Galuna due to these creatures called the Mutraddi consuming it. They arrived on Earth, and blended in as normal. The series gets the name from when the three combine. When this occurs, they form the Sym-Bionic Titan. Now, this series is truly amazing - we get amazing writing along with amazing characters and the artstyle is beautiful! Sadly, Sym-Bionic Titan has not been treated fairly, and due to this, it has a pretty short runtime, but it is still awesome! You can watch Sym-Bionic Titan on iTunes!

9. Motorcity

Motorcity is one of the few shows that I love, but I can’t help but feel upset every time I watch it. The reason for it is because of how badly it was treated (see my other blogs for what I mean by that). Motorcity was a series which ran from 2012 to 2013 for a season. Motorcity revolves around a group of six who call themself the Burners. The Burners share the goal of stopping the evil billionaire and ruler of Detroit named Abraham from taking over Motorcity, a small part of Detroit which he is trying to take over. The Burners have six members - Mike (the leader), Julie (an insider trying to get information from Abraham), Texas (the muscle), Chuck (the tech guy), Dutch (the smart one) and Jacob (the older member who mentors them). This series had lots to enjoy - the characters, the plot and the series sometimes got introspective which added a lot to it for me. Motorcity was a great series that deserved better, and I am sure that if it got promoted properly by the network, it would be featured on more people’s 10 best serialized cartoons lists! You can watch Motorcity on iTunes!

8. Ducktales

This is another one of the many Disney cartoons that had made me into a huge fan. Ducktales was a series that ran for 3 seasons and 69 episodes from 2017 to 2021. It was about Donald Duck, his uncle Scrouge and his three nephews, Huey, Louie and Dewey who essentially go on treasure hunting related adventures. Each season has a different arc, with each providing a different sort of adventure to the series. The series has much to love - we are introduced to great characters, a great story and fantastically written humor. While many reboots fall flat, Ducktales was one of the reboots that hit the nail and exceeded my expectations! You can watch Ducktales on Disney Plus!

7. Steven Universe

I am sure many will agree with me when I introduce one of the cartoons of the 2010s that pushed boundaries and helped increase representation - Steven Universe! Steven Universe ran for 5 seasons from 2013 to 2019, and had a total of 160 episodes. The series revolved around Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl and Steven - The Crystal Gems. They were essentially alien warriors who protected the world from any sort of peril. One catch to them was that Steven was a half human who got the Gem side from his mother and the human side from his father. Steven Universe’s plot would continue to progress as the series went on. There was a lot to love about the series - the color choice was beautiful, the characters were amazingly done and the series helped increase representation by pushing boundaries. Steven Universe is definitely a strong series and one that was impactful! You can watch Steven Universe on Hulu!

6. Teen Titans

This is a classic from many of our childhoods…I had to include it on here for sure! Teen Titans ran for a total of 5 seasons and 65 episodes, and the series ran for 3 years from 2003 to 2006. The series centered around five superheroes calling themselves the Teen Titans. The group consists of Robin (the leader), Beast Boy (has the power to morph into an animal), Starfire (an alien princess), Cyborg (a cyborg) and Raven (a goth girl with telekinesis). The series has many different arcs, with each arc focusing on a different character. The series had so much that I took away from it: we had awesome characters who are all iconic and unique in their own ways, great voice acting to back up these characters and an amazing soundtrack. Teen Titans is truly amazing, and it is still iconic up to this day. You can watch Teen Titans on iTunes, Google Play or Amazon!

5. Avatar: The Last Airbender

Now, I am moving back to a cartoon that was definitely a bit older than the previous entries, and one that was clearly a standout from its time! Avatar the Last Airbender was a series which ran from 2005 to 2008 for a total of 3 seasons and 61 episodes. The series revolves around the Avatar, Aang who is supposedly the only person who can master all four elements and restore peace after the fire nation attacked. The avatar was found by two siblings from the water tribe, Katara and Sokka, who travel with him to different nations so that he can master all four elements and defeat the fire lord, Ozai. This series had much to love - my favorite aspect was the story. Despite having an intense story, the humor also made the series for me. Finally, the artstyle won me over. I loved the anime-esque artstyle this series provided! Avatar: The Last Airbender was definitely an amazing series, and it’s no secret why it’s so loved today! You can watch Avatar: The Last Airbender on Netflix!

4. Detentionaire

Ah yes, now I move back to the 2010s…to a series that blew my mind when I had first seen it with it’s very intricate mystery! Detentionaire was an animated series which ran from 2011 to 2015 and had 4 seasons of 53 episodes. Detentionaire was about a high schooler named Lee Ping who gets framed for a huge prank on the first day of high school, and gets detention for a whole year. He sneaks out every day to figure out who set him up, and while the series starts off with him interacting with different groups at school to see who set him up, he eventually finds out that there are secrets hidden deep beneath the school that could put the entire world in harm. He also finds out that he and his bloodline are connected to everything that is going on. This series is amazing - my favorite thing about this series is definitely the progression that we go through with each episode. Furthermore, the characters are all enjoyable and the overall mystery is just so fun to try solving! Not only is the mystery fun to try solving during the first watch, but the writers also put in little hints regarding what’s to come later on, making rewatching the series very satisfying! Detentionaire is truly one of my favorite cartoons of all time, and while it is definitely underrated, I am happy it still has a fandom! You can watch Detentionaire on the YouTube channel Retro Rerun, or on Tubi!

3. Gravity Falls

As I mentioned earlier, I am a huge Disney fan! At this point of the blog, don’t expect any non-Disney shows. Anyways, to start this Disney run off, I would like to give attention to Gravity Falls! Gravity Falls was a series which ran from 2012 to 2016 for a total of 2 seasons and 40 episodes. Gravity Falls was about two twins named Dipper and Mabel who visit their grunkle, Stan, at a town full of mysteries known as Gravity Falls. In this town, Stan owns a tourist trap known as the Mystery Shack, but aside from the “mysteries” in the Mystery Shack, Dipper hopes to uncover the true mysteries of Gravity Falls as he finds out that Gravity Falls us not what it appears to be. With the help of Mabel and two Mystery Shack employees named Soos and Wendy, Dipper aims to uncover the big underlying mystery behind Gravity Falls. Gravity Falls was definitely a well thought out and unique show. Like Detentionaire, it had a great mystery and was fun to rewatch as there are lots of hints sprinkled in the earlier episodes. Furthermore, the characters were all really entertaining and the pacing was really fluid and made sure every episode was engaging without running into the plot too fast. Gravity Falls was truly an amazing show, and despite seeing so many awesome cartoons after it ended, Gravity Falls has remained in my top 3 since. You can watch Gravity Falls on Disney Plus!

2. The Owl House

Now, this is a show that really continued pushing the boundaries like how Steven Universe did. The Owl House is a series running from 2020 and still running. It currently has 2 seasons of 40 episodes, and is expected to get one more season containing three specials. The Owl House is about a girl named Luz who unexpectedly ends up in a new world by the name of Boiling AIsles after finding a portal. In this island, she meets a witch named Eda who helps train her to become a witch. Now, I love The Owl House. The series has awesome animation, and awesome characters to back these characters up. Furthermore, the LGBTQ representation in this series is a huge plus for the series. It truly is awesome, and it definitely deserved better. You can watch The Owl House on Disney+ or Disney Now!

1. Amphibia

Anyone who has been following me for a while probably knows this…Amphibia is not only my favorite serialized cartoon, but my favorite cartoon of all time! Amphibia ran from 2019 to 2022 for a total of 3 seasons and 58 episodes. Amphibia is about a girl named Anne Boonchuy who, along with her friends, Marcy Wu and Sasha Waybright steal a magic box. This box ends up transporting the three friends to the magical world of Amphibia, which is a world full of frogs. In this series, Anne has the goal of finding her two friends and getting back home. However, along the way, she faces many different challenges both in the forms of monsters and her own inner struggles, and she finds out that not everyone is who she really thinks they are. Now, I love Amphibia. We have a bunch of loveable characters, we have some huge twists and we have a very unique and interesting concept. Amphibia is such an amazing series, and I am so happy that it became a part of my life! You can watch Amphibia on Disney Plus or Disney Now!

Well, these were my 10 best serialized cartoons! Which ones do you agree with? Which ones do you disagree with? Are there any you would add? Feel free to like and comment your thoughts and follow me for more as I post regular cartoon blogs!

#cartoon #cartoons #cartoon network #nickelodeon #disney #teletoon #amphibia #the owl house #gravity falls #detentionaire #avatar the last airbender #teen titans #steven universe #ducktales #motorcity #sym-bionic titan #radarplz

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foreverinadais · 2 years

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when their insecure: m.k hc

WOAH LEMME START BY SAYING THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWERS I'm in shock, thank you everyone for the lovely comments/requests/interactions, it makes me so happy and i’m unbelievably grateful! ❤️

also i got an anon request similar to this so thank you for the inspiration!

warnings: angst, fluff, themes of insecurities, implied smut, you x moon boys

STEVEN:

It isn’t a foreign feeling to him

he’s felt insecure many times

whether that be his fighting, or his talking, or the fact he’s subconsciously scared your comparing him to his alters

he feels the gnawing of insecurity more often than not.

today is particularly bad

he felt it when he woke up, thought he must’ve had some kind of nightmare

and it didn’t help you were nowhere to be seen

not beside him like you usually where when he woke up

he felt needy

he needs you

so, he paces the entirety of the flat twice

talking to himself, trying to reason with his brain

but nothing works

it’s all blurred, tainted with the negative feelings plaguing his brain.

he’s about to give up when he hears the door click open

and you there, bustling with a few bags, two coffees from the café

you notice his presence and sigh, putting the items down

“Sorry, love, thought I'd get a head start and beat the queues, I was going to leave a note but I thought I’d be back before- oh.”

He was practically falling into your arms, hands grabbing at your back to bring you closer to him

head burying itself in your shoulder

“hey, darling, what’s wrong?”

he didn’t reply, tears pricking his eyes, relishing in the feeling of you

your smell, your touch, your embrace

you.

so, you stroke his back, kissing the top of his head, his forehead, anywhere you can access with his body practically engulfing yours

eventually, you pry him off you, just to look into his eyes

hands cupping his cheeks, wiping any stray tears

no because i’ll cry thinking about him crying

“What’s wrong, my love, hmm? ‘s okay, you can talk to me, whatever you need.”

and he nods, allowing you to drag him to the sofa, your hands taking both of his, smoothing the skin with your own

and he begins talking

it helps him when he’s insecure, just to talk, to see you listening

he consumes your advice and comfort like it’s the last thing he’ll ever hear, like it will give him the secrets of the universe

“I don’t want to burden you, lovie, i-i’m sorry if i did, i’m probably just being silly.”

“No, you aren’t, Steven. You never could, not ever.”

You offer him words of comfort, kissing the entirety of his face between praises, as he melts into your touch

before he’s asking you ‘can you hold me?’ with the softest voice you’ve ever heard

and of course you nod because you’d like nothing more

and that’s where you stay for the rest of the morning, wrapped in each other’s embrace

not worried about the coffee going cold

but most importantly, Steven slowly forgives his insecurities.

MARC:

You didn’t realise it hurt him.

but your head was surrounded by white heat, anger taking rationality hostage

it was an argument, one that been building up for the past week

tension’s were running high and everyone could feel it.

at one point, it snapped

Marc had said stuff he didn’t mean

and you had, too

venom spitting at venom

but it was when you asked for Steven, voice low, cracked, followed by, “I can’t bear to be around you anymore,”, it hit.

it felt like a blow of extreme wind had hit him in the gut and blew him through the wall, all throughout London before dropping him back off

I can’t bear to be around you anymore.

When he was next fronting, he didn’t quite know how to act around you

you had come to him straight away, voice small, apologies leaving your lips and arms open

he had reciprocated this, not wanting to continue the conflict longer, not after everything had already been said

but it followed him.

the heavy feeling in his chest from those words you had said

the harsh tugging on his stomach, kind of like nausea, but more like... fear

the screaming in his brain that wasn’t Jake, nor Steven, but him, his own thoughts, his own...

insecurities.

he felt the urge to pull away

to be where you weren’t

in fear of causing you pain, or that you didn’t want him anymore

that you wanted Steven, or Jake, but not him.

you could feel him distancing himself, could feel the lack of his presence in the recent part of your life, and you wanted to know why

the icing on the cake came one night.

you were in bed, nearly asleep, when the door opened

the boys had been away on a mission the past day and in your disoriented state, you mumbled a, ‘steven?’

it was not, in fact, Steven, but Marc, who felt an overwhelming sense of sadness

when their was no reply, you rubbed your eyes, sitting up

his figure was turned away from you, expression hidden

so you turn on the lamp, get up, walk over to where one of your boyfriend’s is slightly hunched over

“hi, baby,” you whisper, wrapping your arms round his waist, but pulling away when he tenses

“ ‘m not Steven.”

“I know, i’m sorry, it was dark and i was confused-”

“I’m a monster.”

oh.

it took you off guard, made you step back in shock

where was this coming from?

“Baby-”

“Steven isn’t. He’s so sweet and nice and perfect for you.”

“No, Marc, honey, where is-”

“You can’t bare me, don’t even need me around anymore.”

the words hit you like a truck, the sickly sense of deja vu spreading across you like a disease

“Marc...”

but you were at a loss for words.

he was still turned away from you, refusing to look at your face when you tell him he’s right, that he should leave.

but then you were there, in front of him, tears welling in your eyes

“baby, i’m so sorry. so sorry, oh Marc, this is all my fault. I was just mad, I didn’t mean it. I need you. I always will, fuck, i need you now and always, ‘m so sorry.”

he was crying. more tears flowing at every word.

he didn’t realise how his insecurities had been weighing him down until they were coming out as tears from his eyes, sobs from his body

and you were there as he fell on his knees, letting out everything he had been building up for a while.

you fell with him

where he went, you vowed to go.

you opened your arms and he reluctantly went into them, afraid a part of you was telling the truth when you said those unutterable words

but not even a grain of you meant it

you kept repeating the words ‘i’m sorry’ and ‘your not a monster’ and ‘your perfect, baby,’

eventually, his sobbing subsides, and he’s laying still in your arms

your hands stroking through his hair as tears threaten to fall

“marc?” you whisper after a moment of silence

he is silent but looks up at you, eyes puffy

“I love you. okay? I love you. And i’ll never forgive myself for making you feel like that, but I will do everything in my power for the rest of my life to show you how much I need you, how perfect you are, ‘kay?”

he doesn’t react for a moment, afraid if he speaks, he’ll cry again

instead, he nods, moving into your body further, wanting to feel every inch of warmth your body has to offer

gently, you place a kiss to his head, asking if he would like to go to bed, which he agrees too

when you get up, he follows, practically clung to your body, and you make it to the bed

pressing a soft kiss to his lips

both of you falling asleep, as you tell him just how much you need him in your life

and always will.

JAKE:

it is rare that Jake Lockley would be insecure

but sometimes, a brief moment enters him, particularly when he reminds himself you found him last

it took you longer to fall in love with Jake, primarily because you knew Marc and Steven first, longer

there was an adjustment period

but then all the pieces fit together like one of Steven's puzzles.

today was yours and Jake’s 1 year anniversary

he had planned a fancy meal in some fancy restaurant that neither of you could pronounce and was pretty excited

but that excitement diminished when he realised you had already been out for dinner twice recently with the other 2

for their 1 year

it heightened when he confused your complaining about something you saw on the news with complaining about your plans together

it was rare that Jake Lockley was insecure

so when he was, he didn’t quite know how to handle it.

but seeing you come out, dressed for your date, looking quite literally perfect, he felt an overwhelming urge to have you

his lips were on yours instantly, hands cupping your face, bringing you as close as humanly possible

“Jake! My lipstick-” but you were already shutting up as he kissed you with so much passion, you felt dizzy

he walked the two of you back so that you were against the wall, trapped between his body in a way which made you melt

and his hands were there, running up your leg, wrapping one of them around his waist

“what a-about dinner?”

he was kissing your neck, desperate to feel you under him

“Fuck it. I would rather have you instead, mi amor.”

you gasped as his touch made you dizzy

holy shit he’s so hot ahh

but felt something was off

sure, he was dominant, and most interactions went like this

but he felt like he was holding something back

so, veryyyy reluctantly, you lightly pushed him away

so he was looking at you

and when he chased your lips, you smiled, muttering a ‘wait’

“hmm? what’s wrong?”

“was gonna ask you the same question, Jake.”

he looked confused- how could you read him better than he could read himself?

“Nothing.” he lied, going to kiss you again when you offered him a look and put your arm between the two of you

“hey... we can talk about it if you want?”

“No. I think it’s pretty clear what I want right now.”

in true jake style, his words were punctuated by a squeeze to your waist

you refrained from rolling your eyes

and straight-up giving in

because let’s face it: he’s very tempting

“Okayyy. But if you tell me what’s wrong, maybe I can help fix it. and the quicker we do that, the quicker we can do,” you bite your lip teasingly, “other things.”

“Fuck, Cariño. Fine, gonna be the death of me, I swear.”

you peck his lips lovingly, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the edge of the bed to sit down

before waiting expectantly

he rose his eyebrow as if to say ‘this is stupid do i really have to do this’

but he sighed, giving in to your comforting gaze

“I just feel, how do I put this... I don’t know. Just, reminded how you loved me last.”

“Last?”

“Just... Out of us, I was last. Last to have you, last to kiss you, last to... this is fucking stupid.”

“No, Jake, it isn’t.” you said, taking his hand in yours. “It isn’t stupid. Honestly, I understand. I wish I knew about you sooner as well, because then we would’ve had longer together. But now that we have each other, we can spend the rest of our lives finding new firsts, and new lasts. Together, all of us, okay?”

Jake grinned, nodding, chuckling even

“So lucky, mi amor, so lucky to have you.”

he peppered kisses all over your exposed skin, making you laugh as he repeated the words ‘i love you’, sometimes in Spanish

and then he was pulling you to straddle him

“What about dinner?”

“What about it? I’m ready for the ‘other things’ now. Are you?”

you nodded, smiling at him

“Glad we sorted that out.”

“Hmm. Now I’m going to show you much I appreciate it.”

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockely x reader #Steven Grant #marc spector #marc spector angst #jake lockely #jake lockley fluff #moon knight imagine #moon knight headcanon #moon knight angst #moon knight ff

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violet-moonstone · 3 months

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there's an interesting genre of person who puts more effort into showing how good of a person they are through the fiction and media they consume than they put into actually being kind to real human beings

reminds me of an afterschool club at my high school where we used to organize events and raise money for organizations that helped lgbtq youth. then after a while it became a space for people to accuse their peers of being problematic because of their steven universe ships and tell their other queer friends that there's something wrong with them for still loving their homophobic relatives. oh and the club stopped being helpful for anyone outside of it. they really should have just created a fandom club imo but no one would be allowed to say anything interesting :/

like listen...i am someone who is deeply immersed in fiction...like stare at a wall and daydream for 2 hours levels of immersed. but fictional morality does not supersede actual real life morality! like imagine caring more about policing who people ship than showing kindness towards a fellow human being!

btw this also counts for online interractions too. people who think its ok to harass someone for problematic fandom interests is absolutely wild

#fandom #fandom culture

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stillness-in-green · 7 months

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On Directionality of Movement in BNHA (and the Neat Reversals)

(Take 2 on this post, which gave me fits trying to post it. Fingers crossed it works this time, and sorry for any vanishing posts, people who reblogged the original.)

This post was initially conceived back in December, when I first saw the home release covers for HeroAca’s Season 6. They look like pretty standard stuff at first glance, but there was something about them that was very, very interesting: the direction the characters were moving.

(Hit the jump for an explanation spiced up with lots and lots of images from first American and then Japanese media.)

So, this is something that’s absolutely ubiquitous in visual media that a reader/viewer is probably never going to consciously register (at least without being told about it, as in, for example, film class or art school) because the emotional cues in play are intrinsically tied to a culture’s written language.[1] To wit, because written English progresses from the left to the right, the subconscious association with rightward movement is forward progress. Thus, in American media, be it stage, screen, or graphic panel when a character is moving from the left to the right, that directionality expresses forward movement, progress, agency, empowerment, righteousness, clear-mindedness, healthy ambition, heroism, and so forth. Progress is towards the unturned page.

[1] The broader term to use to research this further is “linguistic relativity.”

The chase Furiosa initiates in Mad Max Fury Road spends most of the movie heading to the right, before Max convinces Furiosa to return to the Citadel, at which point, naturally enough, the chase reverses directions, spending the rest of the film heading left.

Heroically smashing up cars in a rightward-facing direction, while people with less agency flee leftward.

Elsa spends most of this number moving to the left, the same direction she fled out of Arendelle, but as her resolve grows, the choreography stars reversing, moving her on the z-axis more, and when she declares her resolve to never go back, donning her ice queen dress, her directionality immediately shifts to right-facing. Even her turn at the end of the sequence, as she spins to walk back inside, is to the audience’s right.

Conversely, when a character is moving from the right to the left—against the flow of written English—that expresses return, backsliding, a lack of agency, powerlessness, wickedness, unhealthy ambition, difficulty, turmoil, and a generally dark or conflicted mentality. Regression and turmoil lie in the direction of the page that’s already been turned.

Nina’s grasp on reality is beginning to fracture due to the multifaceted stresses she’s facing.

Jean Grey is classically a heroic character, but you don’t get hero layouts when you’re giving in to dark urges and consuming suns.

Scar will start trending rightward when Be Prepared really gets underway, that song being all about his future plans and proactive evil, but for the introductory bits, he’s firmly left-facing—as is also the case when he hurls Mufasa to his death.

Of course, this doesn’t have to be a huge production! Even something as simple as Charlie Brown walking rightward out to the doghouse to feed Snoopy then leftward to go back inside fits this idea of forward vs. backward motion. (Compare this to, say, Dagwood, who runs leftward out his door to crash into the mailman every time he’s late for work.)

Naturally, you see this idea of directionality in confrontations as well.

In Hamilton, the title character is reflecting back on his past, the loved ones lost, his actions and the sort of legacy he will leave behind; he "throws away his shot" and dies. Burr, conversely, is thinking of his living daughter, of his determination to survive; he fires, bullet moving from left to right, and will go on to survive the duel.

Steven Q. Universe, facing the future despite the embodied wall of stasis and indifference standing in his way.

The Wicked Witch, facing leftward, attempts to scare the Tin Woodsman and Scarecrow from progressing any further with Dorothy towards her destination, which they would do by following the yellow brick road extending rightward off the screen.

You can see the reverse positioning—hero facing left, villain facing right—in cases like this, where the hero is making a dramatic defense against a villain in an attempt to stop their progression.

This isn’t a hard and fast rule, obviously—visual dynamism alone will mean characters move around and change position! It also doesn’t address movement on the y- and z-axes, nor does it necessarily account for e.g. mixed group compositions or romance scenes. Also, more intangible things like power dynamics, command of the scene, and shifting character motivations can change who’s moving/facing what direction. It’s not as basic as good-right, bad-left. Nonetheless, it’s an interesting thing to watch for.

However, all of the above is reversed in Japanese media. Written Japanese moves from the right to the left,[2] and therefore the mental association with forward progress/positivity versus regression/negativity is likewise with leftward versus rightward movement. Following are some obvious examples from works other than BNHA (no live action films because I don’t have the familiarity to be comfortable picking individual shots from them):

[2] In its normal vertical orientation, which is what you’ll find in books and manga. When arranged horizontally, as in scrolling marquees or banners or the like, usually it reads left-to-right, though this was not the case historically.

Anthy leaves her allegorical coffin, Ohtori Academy, in the final episode of Revolutionary Girl Utena.

A twist on Sena’s signature move, the Devil Bat Ghost, in Eyeshield 21. Check any sports manga you read and I would bet you good money that the protagonist team’s goal is on the left in most instances.

Mima, pictured here Really Going Through It. Note that Perfect Blue is the inspiration (to say the least) for Black Swan, above, but the psychological break is facing the other direction.

Cure Dream shows us the mixed feelings of being the leader of the last PreCure team that regularly killed their enemies.

So, that all laid out, let’s talk about how that looks in BNHA!

Like my other examples, the series is chock-full of examples, both of the usual forward-leftward, regression-rightward directionality, as well as a number of interesting plays against type. Below, have a pile of examples!

BNHA, manga and anime both, gets piles of face-off shots like this, and in every one of them that I’ve seen, it’s the same general layout: heroes moving leftward, villains rightward.

Deku attacks towards the turning page, while Muscular attacks against it. Tokoyami, mired in turmoil and a dangerous loss of control over his power, also faces rightward.

The specter of the past and the emblem of the future facing in the expected directions.

Here’s a telling group composition: the Stoplight trio working hard for their futures, ditto the man who moves too fast, while Endeavor and Fuyumi face forward, still somewhat unsure of their current situation, while Natsuo is actively going against the flow.

Of course, it holds in the single character images as well, like so:

Likewise, you can see the contrast even between images, like these two, announcing the anime adaptation of the Joint Training Arc and My Villain Academia, respectively:

Notice Shinsou, who's a major character in the arc but not quite a Hero Course classmate just yet, has his face turned away, back in the rightward direction.

You can see it more generally in the action itself, as well, not just the promo art. Think of moments like Shigaraki emerging from the warp at USJ, the race during the Sports Festival, the direction of All Might’s final punch—as well as Shouto’s later victory over Dabi—at Kamino, the direction Gentle Criminal (and thus Deku following him) is heading when trying to reach UA, and so forth.

And then there are the interesting subversions.

Usually, in the days of their most pitched rivalry, the forward-moving Deku is moving left, while the tumultuous, stuck in the past Bakugou is moving right, but he drifts more leftward-facing as he gradually begins to get his head on straight, as in their fight post-Kamino.

Shigaraki would be on the left if he were facing down Deku, but against All Might? Not so much. That makes this less a good versus evil stare-down and more a past versus future one.

This incredibly fucking telling composition, which I’ll let speak for itself:

Shigaraki, having the protagonist slot on loan for the duration of My Villain Academia, spends most of the Deika fight facing in the direction of the future, though Re-Destro interrupts this to take the left-facing when he’s challenging Shigaraki about having no vision. Shigaraki’s pseudo-apotheosis has his facing right as he destroys everything around him (Re-Destro facing left as he sees his future rewritten and his burden removed), but by the time we come to the aftermath in the crater, Shigaraki is moving forward again.

Interestingly, that does not necessarily follow for the rest of the League! Dabi and Geten trade off facings through the whole arc, while Toga is mostly rightward facing against Curious, only getting the leftward advancement at the very tail end, once she transforms into Uraraka. Twice’s doubles are often fairly leftward-aimed, as they’re driving the action forward, but Jin himself spends his big confrontation mostly facing outward, towards the reader, only getting much leftward-facing when he’s helping the unconscious Toga afterward. Mr. Compress, not having a dedicated match-up, is all over the place.

Spinner, though? Spinner is following Shigaraki both literally and in the sense that he spends the arc coming into his own. Thus, even when Shigaraki’s gotten ahead of him, Spinner maintains the leftward aim.

This can get more complicated than simple inversion, too!

For example, Gigantomachia is leftward moving in, really, virtually every scene he’s in. It really adds to how much he feels like a complete force of nature that, all throughout his earliest introduction, Kirishima’s flashback, MVA, and both war arcs, there are literally two (2) sequences in which he’s anything other than leftward-oriented for the bulk of his appearances, and both of them occur when he’s significantly struggling to make forward progress.

The first comes when he’s trying to leave the Gunga Villa and facing steep resistance; this conveniently lets the kids facing him (+Mount Lady, when she can get out ahead of him) heroically face left, like they usually do. Once Machia clears the Villa battleground, however, the rest of his route to Jakku is smooth, even sailing, and shows him returned to his usual leftward orientation.

The second is once he’s actually reached Jakku and the sedative has started kicking in. While he still gets a good number of leftward orientations, he’s tied down in a lot of them, and they’re mixed with more rightward and a considerable number of outward facings.

And that’s it, really. Even escaping from the holding facility built around him and confronting AFO, he gets leftward facing, with that only reversing in the moment AFO strikes him down.

Unlike Machia, Deku facing stiff opposition gets to keep a leftward progression when he comes up against heroic opposition in his fight against his classmates.

Shigaraki and Overhaul, appropriately for their vying for control of the villainous future, are constantly vying for the leftward facing position in their scenes/art spreads.

And then there’s the example that prompted this whole post—the home release covers of Season 6:

In other circumstances, I might chalk this up to the heroes being in the defending position—like Gandalf against the Balrog—but BNHA has not tended to do much with that visual; the heroes usually get to keep their heroic leftward facing even when they’re on the defense, as indeed is the case for all of Jakku that comes to mind! Yet just this once, for the anime art, we can see the futility the heroes are up against, trying to stop, as Dabi so aptly put it, the future coming down the pipeline, where all the heroes’ lip service will be blown away by chaos.

Thanks for reading through this, all, and my apologies if I mixed up my right and my left anywhere! I hope you enjoyed the pictures, and that you have fun spotting the patterns in your future media intake!

#bnha #my writing #image heavy #what makes them heroes and villains #going to become a villain if this doesn't post correctly

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