#he loves Steven universe and wanted to see it again
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Can I get a Steven from Steven Universe Future yandere alphabet, please?
Sure! Here's what I came up with :)
Original Steven Concept I Did Here.
Yandere Alphabet - Steven Universe
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Fear of loss, Trauma/PTSD, Steven's a mess, Blood, Violence mention, Attachment issues, Jealousy, Anger issues, Manipulation, Stalking, Kidnapping, Dark themes, Poor mental health, Angst, Possessive behavior, General yandere themes, Delusional behavior, Unhealthy behavior, Forced relationship.
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
Steven is naturally clingy due to his past. He doesn't like leaving you so he comes off as smothering. He's used to losing others and now that he's found someone new... he doesn't want to let go.
Steven comes off as intense, even when he doesn't mean to. He just wants to cover you in hugs and kisses. He just wants to feel your warmth and not be alone again.
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
Steven has always been a person who wants to solve problems by talking them out. However, with his new unpredictability... there may be times he gets more violent than he'd like to be.
He feels conflicted and horrible the moment he sees blood on his hands. Yet he quickly hides it. After all... you shouldn't view him as a monster just yet, right?
He wants to enjoy you for a while longer before you leave him.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?
Steven would not purposefully try to mock you unless you set him off or something. He's impulsive though, which may lead to him kidnapping you without thinking things through.
Abduction would be a last ditch effort for him to not lose his darling. He cares for you the best he can all while trying to self soothe himself in your embrace. In abduction you can truly see how messed up the poor young man is.
He always asks how he can help. He denies you your freedom and quickly becomes the only thing you see. He's in denial of everything... including his toxicity.
He's been struggling to find a purpose, but when he meets you... He just knows he's needed you since he met you.
He just hopes you understand him... eventually.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
He probably doesn't mean to, but it ends up happening anyways. He's so caught up in what he wants or trying to "help" and "care" for you... only to forget you really need space, not him.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
He may try to hide it, but in the end he's very vulnerable with you. He struggles to be open but it ends up spilling out of him anyways. When he's vulnerable... it's almost upsetting when he holds you close and sobs.
However... he's still dangerous... and you know that.
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
Genuinely upset and you may set off his temper. He may fight back verbally, but even with just words... his powers can get hectic by accident.
If he ever hurt you by accident, he pauses and either isolates himself or tries to make things better again.
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
No and he hates it.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
Well, with this one there can be a lot of candidates due to how volatile Steven can be. As I said before, he'd never mean to hurt you but he may do it by accident.
Seeing his mental breakdowns... seeing him snap at others... at some point he'll take it too far.
In a fit of desperation, he may accidentally harm you or someone close to you. You're terrified once you see his hands and the floor covered in blood. The realization of what he's done may break both of you.
The thought is unnerving... as that blood can either belong to someone you know... or you.
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
In the end, somehow, Steven wants to have you two married and happy together. Yet he's so emotionally driven and plagued with trauma, that even if you tried to help him, it only hurts the both of you.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
Yes. Steven has a fear of being left behind. So when he sees you turn your attention to other people, it affects him. He'll usually try to deal with it alone, often going into a depressive state and crying about it in his room.
Honestly, him just being sad is the better option. All you have to do is comfort him afterwards. Although... he is fully capable of lashing out, which would be dangerous for anyone around him. We've seen in Future how he gets.
Left unchecked and someone may get hurt.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
Obsessive, Clingy, Affectionate, Manipulative, Controlling, Needy, Volatile, Possessive, Intimidating, Caring, Smothering.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
Pulling from my older concept, you two most likely met after he left home to have a fresh start. You offer to be his friend, to help him, and he ends up feeling attached. However... soon friendship turns into more than friendship.
He wants you to be lovers, to be married, to support him.
He's moving too fast with his feelings which causes issues for both of you. He stresses out over the fact you don't feel the same and worries you'll leave him. He doesn't want to lose you...
So it seems he must prevent that somehow.
Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?
Well, he's not really trying to mask anything. He may try to hide his darker nature... but you'll find out eventually.
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
He doesn't like hurting you, the only times he does is by accident. So your punishment may be something like... forcing you by his side or something like that. Isolation punishes him too, so he'll do the opposite.
He'll use his powers to chain you to his side until he knows you won't leave him.
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
Most of them if it meant he wouldn't be left behind.
Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
I like to think at first he's really patient... but as he gets worse and worse... he's impatient.
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?
Honestly, if anything bad happened to you, he'd snap. Like... monster Steven snap.
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
A little and maybe.
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?
Childhood trauma. One of the main things dealt with in Future.
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
Steven is used to helping. He'd do whatever he can to see you happy again. Sometimes he's even unaware that he could be the one causing it due to his delusions. He'll hold you close, kiss your head, and just stay beside you. He hates it when you're upset.
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?
SKIPPED
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?
Get this man the help he needs, put up boundaries, and probably get the poor man a therapist. He'll be much easier to manage. (Also he just really needs help.)
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?
Unintentionally, afterwards he panics and tries to fix things.
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
Steven may actually be a worship yandere at times. There's times he's just so grateful that you want to help him and he just wants to keep you forever. He'd do anything to have you. Just so he can keep your warmth all to himself.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
Anything from months to a couple years.
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?
Not on purpose.
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Is it wrong if I associate 'Love Like You' (Steven Universe) with RR! Staticapple/Appletv and/or Vox's relationship towards Charlie ?
Incidentally, Legally Blonde for Vox & Charlie - they even have Christian Borle, it's perfect!
WHEW, sorry for putting this question off for so long, I had to get the media dummies out of my head.
First off-- Like many Vox fans, I'm afflicted with Borleism, I can see a version(A lot of lyrical tuning, but the sentiment is there) of "Chip on My Shoulder" being applied to RR!AU Vox and Charlie.
But i'd love if it had a more reluctant twist to it, like Vox trying to cheer Charlie up after a huge setback in her efforts at redemption. In his own shitty way, like-- "yeah we Sinners fucking suck, what did you expect? But they're not impossible(read: gullible and easy to manipulate into doing what you want)...you could do it(not for me, duh. but you know. The OTHER Sinners.)!"
And then near the end of the song, it takes a sinister/selfish turn for Vox:
🎶First big inspection and she aced it,
She's so close, I can taste it!
I'm just *so* happy I could be there! 🎶
Now for 'Love Like You', this is a tricky one...
It's cute and works in a few regards, especially in the yearning for 'approval' sense. Unfortunately, my personal bias is to have Vox suffer, and this song is a little too...soft, hopeful, for my characterizations? I think he thinks he's beyond saving, which is why he feels very secure in his position relative to the Morningstars/at the resort.
This question did make me listen to some SU songs again, and here's what I got for RR!AU:
"Escapism" - Vox
"That Distant Shore" - Lucifer to Vox (my personal favorite association from these, I think it matches the best as-is too)
"Peace and Love on the Planet Earth" - Charlie as Steven, Peridot as Vox. Substitute Earth for Hell-- not as literal, but in the sense that just because you're in Hell, doesn't stop you from relaxing and being a good person! (EDIT: Actually, I also kind of like 'Be Wherever You Are' for them too)
More about this ^ : I think it would be very funny to imagine a scenario in which Charlie had Vox take a "Vacation day"/join the resort residents to an outing(like a beach episode or something), to which Vox was against for a myriad of reasons, but he spent the entire day being distracted and annoyed at Charlie's positivity and/or being frustrated with how patient she was with other people, that by the end of the day he was refreshed and realized that he hadn't had a single dismal/spiraling thought.
Thank you for the ask <3
EDIT 2: Adding onto this cause holy fuck, imagine that the 'chip' on Charlie's shoulder is a double intendere for Vox's association with her redemption project---
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Love that I’ve forced three people to watch the entirety of Steven universe
#my friend#my dad#and my brother#all separate watches#although the watch through with my brother kinda turned into us and our dad#he loves Steven universe and wanted to see it again#( we watched it together in like 2020 so it’d been a while)#Steven universe#su
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🌺 drift away 🌺
[Lucifer Morningstar x Reader]
[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four]
[Word Count - 1.4k]
[Tags: Angst, songfic (I can't help myself)]
[Notes: My first Hazbin Hotel one shot. Still new to Tumblr, and new to writing one shots, I'm used to writing longer form. Hope this post is up to the standard. It's like, 1 in the morning and I have work tomorrow morning, enjoy. I will hopefully get out a part that's kinda like a prequel, I wanna do Other Friends lol. Obvs inspired by Steven Universe.]
Let’s go in the garden,
You’ll find something waiting,
Right there where you left it,
Lying upside down...
Excitement shot through your system, your feet dragging along the ground as a giggle bubbled from within you. You paused every few seconds as the man before you looked back, a single brow raised at your antics. He took a few steps forward, the sounds of your feet tapping as you followed along filling the air. He sighed, turning around. His eyes, golden sclera and deep red irises, landed on your own, though unfocused. Almost as if looking straight through you.
He’d tried to keep you here, to stop you from following. He knew you were only doing what you were meant to do. You were made for him. An angel born purely to keep Lucifer in check, to keep him happy. You loved being by his side, you loved spending time with him on Earth, in the garden. You thought he loved it too. You thought he loved you.
Taking a deep breath, Lucifer forced a smile for you. His wings softly flapped behind him, lifting him off the ground, raising him to be just above your face level. His finger tapped your nose, his enchanting voice coming through. “Here in the garden, let’s play a game, I’ll show you how it’s done.”
“Here in the garden, stand very still,” His hands on your shoulders, you looked up at him with a beaming smile, happy to spend time with your love.
“This’ll be so much fun,” Your voice, soft and delicate spoke, earning a smile from him. Your heart fluttered at his smile, his cheeks crinkling slightly as his eyes closed, appearing relaxed. At least to you. But appearances weren’t all what they seemed.
“And then he smiled, that’s what I’m after,” You clenched a fist, pressing it to your chest, trying to calm your fast beating heart. You could feel the eyes of the demon behind you on you, the very demon that came from him. “The smile in his eyes, the sound of his laughter.”
You could see the scene replaying before you all over again. You could even hear the soft chuckle that had once escaped his lips, his hands softly squeezing your shoulders. You knew she could see it too, but you didn’t want to acknowledge the memories that had begun to rush back to you, memories from long ago. Memories you’d wished you could forget.
“Happy to listen, happy to play, happily watching him drift away...”
Lucifer’s grip loosened on your shoulders, his wings flapping as he pulled away, leaving you to your little game. You watched him fly into the bright sky, disappearing in the light of the sun with another. But you didn’t think anything of it, because he loved you. He was playing with you, spending time with you.
The girl behind you could only watch in silence, her throat squeezing closed as she tried to keep her inner turmoil to herself. She knew exactly where she was, exactly where you had taken her. The wilted bushes, the out-of-control bramble, the spiraling roots through the grass. This was the long-abandoned Garden of Eden. This was where it all began. Where Charlie’s father, Lucifer, had started humanity’s spiral into chaos, starting with you.
“Happily waiting, all on my own, under the endless sky...” You glanced up to the stars dotting the night sky. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. You never wanted anyone to see this, you never even wanted to see it again yourself. Yet, here you were, sharing your vulnerability with the person you’d come down to Hell to kill. The princess of Hell herself, and Lucifer’s daughter, Charlie. You had let her in, showing her your memories. “Counting the seconds, standing alone, as thousands of years go by...”
The roots had begun to cling to your still form, your body aching, your wings begging to be spread once more. Your hair, once something you had been proud of, now in shambles, grown out nearly to your feet. Deep bags had sunk into the skin under your eyes, a telling sign of your exhaustion. For how much longer must this game go on, you wondered, but never dared voice it. You were meant to make him happy, right?
“Happily wondering, night after night, is this how it works? Am I doing it right?” Your fists clenched, unable to bear looking at your old self any longer, watching as your sickened form disappeared, turning into speckles of gold in the wind. You stepped forward into the place where you had once showed Charlie your older memories, resuming the familiar stance you had been in for over ten thousand years. “Happy to listen, happy to stay, happily watching him drift away...”
A cool breeze blew through your hair, reminding you of the countless nights you took solace in the feeling, the only thing that reminded you that you were still alive, still conscious. Your eyes met Charlie’s, a faint smile on her face as you spotted the tears welling in her eyes. You turned away with the breeze, taking a step in the opposite direction of Charlie, startling her as she was quick to follow.
“You keep on turning pages, for people who don’t care, people who don’t care about you,”
You walked along the edge of a pond, legs brushing against the soft petals of the flowers surrounding the pond. The breeze pulled along the flowers, a long dead water lily being ripped from the ground. Grasping the weakened petals of the flower in your hand, you turned to Charlie with a soft smile, placing the flower in her blonde hair that felt just the same as his. Just as you pulled your hand away, turning your attention to the water, the flower crumpled in her hair, falling apart.
“And still, it takes you ages, to see that no one’s there, see that no one’s there, see that no one’s there, everyone’s gone on without you...” Your eyes drifted back to the spot you had become a part of for so long. The spot you thought would one day claim you and set you free from the pain that he’d left behind in you. Charlie’s eyes followed, her eyes widening to see more of your memories, more of what her father had caused.
“Finally, something.”
The two seraphims, Sera and Emily, stood before you, fear and sorrow written across their faces. Emily ripped roots that had grown to hold you down tightly off, while Sera ran her fingers through your broken hair, tears streaming down her face.
“Finally, news, about how the story ends.”
Sera rambled on and on about everything you had missed. About how humanity had progressed. About the angels that had replaced you in society. Everybody thought you were dead, at the hands of the Devil. You didn’t understand any of it, not until she explained just what had happened, why you were even standing here, playing this game.
“He isn’t an angel anymore, fallen long ago, leaving you for Lilith, and his brand-new daughter...”
“Isn’t that lovely?”
Tears streamed down Charlie’s face as she watched your younger self burst into tears, sobbing violently into Sera’s chest as she hugged you tightly, muttering useless apologies over and over. You cried and screamed, telling her to stop lying and to bring you to Lucifer, to end this game already. You begged and pleaded, telling her that it wasn’t like that, that he loved you, he asked you to stay and play with him. He couldn’t abandon you. You were his angel, his love.
“Isn’t that cool?”
You ignored the pain that squeezed your heart, watching as your memories faded in those familiar golden glimmers, begging that this would be the final time you’d have to see them. You ignored the hot tears that dripped down your cheeks, your emotions leaking through, escaping the tight hold you’d kept them in for so many years.
“And isn’t that cruel? And aren’t I a fool to have happily listened, happy to stay, happily watching him drift, drift...”
You squeezed a fist to your chest, your heart slowing down finally as you sighed deeply. This was the end. This garden, where everything had begun, would finally see the end of the story. Where you would finally let go of the memories that haunted you for ten thousand years, and move on with your life, putting an end to his little game.
“Drift away...”
#hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader
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Steven to the Rescue
Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader
Category: Hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff
Warnings: none
Content: Hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, kissing, making out in public, reader has a terrible horrible no good very bad week and steven is there for her, Steven’s love languages are acts of service and physical touch, reader getting princess treatment, reader is kinda corporate girlie coded, steven being smooth, steven can cook, steven might be slightly ooc bc he is my silly putty and i am bending him to my will
Steven loved his job. He loved going into work everyday to consume any and all things related to egyptology. It’s what makes him able to withstand the abuse from Donna– which is lessened now that he’s been promoted to tour guide and she technically isn’t his supervisor anymore. But today, he simply does not want to go.
He’s been watching you pace around his kitchen nervously for the past five minutes, checking your phone, watch, and laptop in quick succession. It had been… a less than stellar week for you.
Firstly, your job has been stressing you out by offloading duties onto you that weren’t in your job description because someone else had quit unexpectedly. Then, there was an error with your bank and your paycheck wasn’t deposited so you had to wait an extra 3 days to pay your bills. On top of it all, your phone service provider was having some sort of nationwide glitch so you barely had any service.
Not only did you have twice the workload but you weren’t getting any of your work emails on time. Plus, you had to be in constant contact with the bank to sort out their issue. It’s why you’d come over to Steven’s flat before work, to use his internet and hopefully get a better signal. Plus, you two wanted to see each other.
Steven had made some cranberry muffins and vegan egg bites for the two of you but your plate remained untouched while you paced around, waiting for a bar.
“Love,” Steven murmured, reaching out to grab your elbow. You looked up from the laptop you were cradling in your arms and Steven nearly sighed out loud at the sight of your eyes. Beautiful, but so so tired. The universe has been running his favorite person ragged and it hurt him to see you so downtrodden by life. “You really should eat something before work.”
You sighed and sat down your devices, trading them for a muffin. Steven cracked a smile at how your demeanor visibly changed once you took a bite. You always swore Steven put some kind of happy elixir into his food because it never failed to bring your spirits up. You gobbled up one muffin and reached for another.
“Thank you for breakfast.”
Steven leaned over and kissed the side of your forehead.
“You’re welcome, darling. Hate to see you so out of sorts.”
With you finally eating, Steven finished getting dressed. He had to go into work earlier than you did so he let you stay and finish doing what you needed to do. Before he left, he wrapped his arms around you and gave you a soft kiss.
“I’m off then, darling. You’ll be okay here?”
You gave him a reassuring nod as you swallowed a bite.
“Yeah, I’m gonna finish up in a little bit. I have a feeling today is going to be better.”
Steven beamed at you. He kissed you once, twice, three times and he knew if we went for a fourth, he’d cave and stay home with you.
“Right, I’d better get going before I lose my job again.” But Steven made no move to leave. He was staring at you with that dreamy look, the one that had been perpetually fixed on his face ever since you two started dating two months ago. Steven was the perfect boyfriend. Gentle, thoughtful, and he adored you so much.
“Go,” You told him. “I’ll be fine, really.”
Steven gave you one last squeeze before walking out the door.
—----------
Steven was finishing up a tour with a school field trip and he was buzzing from how well it went. Usually, preteens were their own unique breed of nasty– making inappropriate noises, laughing obnoxiously, and just generally being awful but a boy and girl had been asking tons of insightful questions, spurring Steven on and letting him flex his breadth of knowledge. And if there was any snark, the teacher shut it down expeditiously so Steven could continue.
It was probably the best tour he’d given since he started working there.
Plus, earlier in the morning, the curator had pulled him aside and said they were looking for someone to give virtual tours that they could record and post online. If he got it, it would mean a pay bump and more benefits.
Things were finally going his way!
The group was just starting to shuffle off for lunch when Steven spotted you, standing off to the side of the museum entrance. His whole face broke out into a grin and his heart skipped a beat, but that elation faded when he saw your eyes.
You had been crying.
As soon as everyone was gone, Steven crossed the room to you. You both reached for each other. His hands fell to your hips and you clutched his bicep.
“Love, what’s happened?”
You tried to smile but your eyes were bloodshot and puffy. You were holding back tears and you looked like you were on the precipice of a complete breakdown. Like if someone pricked you with a sewing needle, you’d pop.
When you spoke, it came out small and broken.
“I tried to call you but my phone—” Your voice died on the word and Steven’s grip tightened around you.
“Darling?”
“I came to ask for a favor. My apartment… they called me while I was at work. A pipe burst.” Your lip quivered. “All my stuff is ruined.”
Steven’s eyes widened.
“No.”
You nodded, fat tears spilling down your cheeks.
“They said it’s gonna take three weeks to fix it.” You started wringing your hands nervously and took a steadying breath before you spoke again. “I was hoping I could stay with you.”
Steven’s answer is an immediate yes.
“Absolutely, love. Anything you need.”
He couldn’t stand it anymore and he pulled you into a tight hug. Your head fell lamely against his chest and he felt your tears soaking through his shirt but he didn’t mind. Not one bit. You peered up at him, face hot and flushed with tears.
“You’re sure it won’t be a problem? We haven’t been dating that long and I don’t want it to be…” You floundered, searching for the right word but Steven knew exactly what you meant. He caught your hand with his and brought it up to kiss the back of it.
“It won’t be. It'll be like a slumber party, yeah? We’ll bake cookies and watch films. It’ll be fun.”
You nodded but Steven could tell you weren’t convinced. After the week you’d been having, what reason did you have to believe anything else was going to go right for you? You looked like you were a single moment away from shattering entirely.
“Do you want to leave now? I can take the rest of the day off. I can find someone to cover my afternoon tours.”
You shook your head and wiped your eyes.
“No. No, I have to go back to work. We have an important meeting.” You sniffed. Steven’s heart broke seeing you like this. You just looked so defeated.
Steven thought hard for a moment. How could he make this better for you? How could he lighten your load?
“How about this? I’ll pick you up after work. We’ll stop by your flat and get anything we need and then we’ll go back to mine, hm?” He brushed the falling hair out of your eyes. “We’ll get a takeaway, watch your favorite show, I’ll even let you braid my hair if you like.”
You chuckled a bit.
“Can we get dessert?”
Steven kissed your forehead.
“Anything you want, love.”
You nodded and a genuine smile returned to your face.
“Alright, well I better get back. I’m on my lunch break and it’s gonna take me 15 minutes to get back across town.”
Steven stopped you before you could leave.
“Darling, have you eaten lunch?”
You looked sheepish when you shook your head. Steven wouldn’t be having that. Wordlessly, he laced your fingertips with his and lead you down to the employee lockers. He opened up his where the only contents were a book of Egyptology, his spare glasses, a Tawaret funko pop, his lunch box, and a picture of you taped to the inside.
He pulled out his lunchbox and placed it in your arms.
“Steven, no.” You gasped. “I can’t take your lunch.”
You took his lunch.
No matter how much protesting you did, Steven insisted, waving off your concerns with a promise that he would get something from a food truck at lunch. He hailed a taxi for you before you could argue any further.
“Steven, I don’t have cab fare.” You said with wide eyes as the taxi pulled up. “Remember? My bank–”
He pulled out his own wallet and handed the driver his bank card.
“Can’t have my beautiful girlfriend going across town on public transport. Someone might steal you away from me.”
You flushed. Your stomach was doing happy flips from feeling so taken care of. Steven took his card back from the driver and tucked it away. You were full on crying now as you wrapped your arms around him and weeped into his chest.
“It’s alright, love.” He murmured in your ear.
You pulled back to kiss him. It was eager and much too sloppy to do in broad daylight on the steps of his place of work but you couldn’t help yourself.
“Thank you for going to all this trouble for me.” You mumbled as you pulled away.
“It’s no trouble at all, love.” He opened up the cab food for you and didn’t shut it until you were inside. “I’ll pick you up at your office at the end of the day, okay?”
You nodded and Steven leaned his head through the window to give you one last kiss.
“Last chance to play hooky with me for the rest of the day?”
You giggled and shook your head.
“Tempting, but no. I’ve got to go be a grownup.”
Steven smiled at you and mouthed a silent “okay.” He stepped back onto the curb and once the road was clear, your cab pulled out into the street.
Once Steven was out of view, you opened up his lunchbox. He had a habit of overpacking in case he was stuck on the bus for a while and needed a snack, which came in handry because you were starving. You ate his sandwich, chips, soda, half a bag of grapes, and a cookie.
At a red light, your driver turned back to you.
“Your boyfriend is so sweet!” She swooned.
“You don’t know the half of it.” You giggled. “This is his lunch.”
She gasped.
“Shut up! That is so cute! Oh my gosh, you’re so lucky.”
You grinned.
“Yeah. I am.”
—-----------
The rest of the afternoon went painfully slow for you.Thankfully, you got so busy with work that you temporarily forgot you were broke, without a phone, and temporarily homeless.
When it was finally time to go, you headed toward the front desk, intending to use the landline to call Steven but when you stepped into the hall, he was already there. You had to do a double take at first because you thought you might have been dreaming or seeing things. But no, this was real life.
Steven Grant, your nerdy, sweet, perfect boyfriend was chatting to your office receptionist with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
“I never realized the museum was free! I always thought it cost money, that’s why I haven’t brought my kids.” The receptionist said, embroiled in a conversation with Steven.
“Loads of people think that, actually but yeah it’s free entry. It only costs money for tours. Though, if you’re bringing your little ones, I can’t recommend the tours enough. You get loads of extra information that just reading the pamphlets won’t give you. Not to toot my own horn but I give a pretty educational tour if I do say so myself.” Steven said with a relaxed smile. Ever since he’d been promoted to tour guide, he’s been so much more sure of himself. He’s still the goofy, sweet, bumbling nerd he always has been but the constant exposure to his passion has cushioned him in a cozy little bubble of Egyptology, vegan baking, and you. How could he not feel content?
“I think I’ll take them next weekend.” The receptionist said as you arrived at the desk. “I’d like a tour with you as well.” She looked up from scribbling the museum information on a Post-It note and saw you. “Oh, here you are, darling! Does this sweet man belong to you?”
Just as she asked, Steven held out the bouquet to you. Red roses, pink tulips, white calla lilies, and some hydrangeas to fill it out.
“He does.” Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. You took the bouquet from Steven and smelled the flowers. Steven gently pulled your purse strap off of your shoulder and took his lunch box out of your hands, holding them both and holding his free hand out for you.
“Are you ready, love? The cab’s waiting.”
Do not cry. Do not cry in your place of work. Do not cry because your boyfriend is being so sweet and you’ve never felt this cared for in your life.
To avoid your voice coming out high and squeaky, you nodded and took his outstretched hand. Bidding goodbye to the receptionist, he led you out the doors and into the cab, leading you home.
*****
It feels strange.
You’re not sure why. You’ve spent the night at Steven’s flat before, had dinner, read books, spent all night in his bed, but this felt different.
You were standing in Steven’s bathroom, hair damp from your shower. The second you got back to his flat, you’d made a beeline to the shower, eager to scrub all of your misfortune off. And you felt so strange, so out of place.
It was a little more intimate knowing that you’d be here for three entire weeks, which put a decent amount of pressure on a fairly new relationship. You and Steven would be seeing each other in undesirable states, have to give each other space, and somehow maintain the dynamic of your relationship despite these new circumstances.
You unloaded the grocery bag of toiletries that you picked up from your flat on the way here. Thankfully your hygiene essentials and skincare weren’t damaged. The same couldn’t be said for your clothes, though.
At least it was the weekend and you didn’t have to worry about outfits for work. You could just lounge around in the sweater and boxers Steven had given you, or nothing if you preferred. Steven certainly wouldn’t mind.
“Love?” Steven’s voice came through the bathroom door. “The food just got here. I’ll queue up a movie for us.”
“Alright.” You called out. “Be out in a minute.”
“Take your time, darling.”
What on Earth did you do to deserve that wonderful, wonderful man?
After changing, you stepped out into the living room where Steven had arranged the takeout boxes, poured you a glass of wine, and queued up “Tangled” on the TV.
“Steven…” You plopped down on the couch next to him. “We could’ve cooked, you didn’t have to order out for me. I don’t want you going to any trouble for me.”
Steven looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes that only love could be the catalyst for. He took your chin between his fingers and angled your face to meet his lips in a sweet, slow kiss.
“Darling, why would it be any trouble to care for you?”
And just like that, as quickly as a match burns out, all of your anxieties and apprehension faded away. You didn’t feel out of place in Steven’s flat or mistreated by the universe. Here, in Steven’s arms, you only felt loved.
#steven grant#steven grant x reader#moon knight#mr. knight#marvel#steven grant x you#oscar isaac#steven grant imagine#steven grant fanfiction
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After looking at all the Narrators I got I kinda had to pick from all of them-
I'm sorry if your Narrator isn't on the list of those I've drawn ;-;
besides that, I had to make sketches for all of those I've drawn : D
Start with @bugenthusiast0 's Narrator... better have the notif to see it because your Narrator looks adorable... I want to hug him
Next, have @finnleywiththesillys 's fun Narrator.
Next, we have @jestie-bestie , they look so nice??? I want to enjoy some tea with them!
Next, it's @employee052 turn, I made him look disgusted x'D
he probably is disgusted to know I'm drawing him-
Next... probably the one that started my obsession with TSP really-
it's @squarratorsideblog Virus Narrator... I mean... can you blame me for loving this guy? Just look at him!? will probably draw him again
next is @aiberry I find his design really cool-
yes, I put something in his screen as a 'placeholder' kind of... forgive me for doing that ;-;
Next is @mariade11art . I really like the way he looks! so for me, it's a win! also... can I hug him?
Next is @lazy-b1rdy . he looks really cute~
I don't know if I'll give him back though /j
Next is @coralkrill 's Narrator. he looks adorable, I do want to hug this silly guy~
Next, we have... @ihazmunchies91 ... can I say how WONDERFUL he is? looks evil and I love that- I love him may draw him in the future again
Next is @semisocialporcupine . I can say that now that I saw how he looked in human form I can die happy.
Then it's @xandyprojects 's turn with a very interesting design I admit! it reminded me of Garnet from Steven Universe... somehow? but anyway, I like it!
and we finish with @juaneloriginal ! the fluffy Narrator that I see everywhere. he is cute though so yeah he deserves it...
and it's all I did... I kinda need a break for a bit since I have a fun headache coming hahah
but for all those who discovered a Narrator or just a new artist you like, go give these people some love! they all deserve it !!
thank you everyone for giving me your designs so I can draw them! I hope you all like it ;-;
I want to say sorry for those I wasn't able to draw... they're all really cool and if I had more motivation I would've drawn them. but hey I'll probably do that again so maybe next time!
on that note, I'll ... try to get some rest maybe... even if I feel like Walter is going to be jealous because I haven't drawn him today /j
#yeay I did it!#I feel Walter staring at me from the shadows /j#thank you everyone#narratorverse#tsp narrator#the stanley parable narrator#narrator#tsp fanart#tsp#tspud#tsp art#tsp fandom#tsp au#fan art
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With You part 6
<- prev next -> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist
Summary: Will you always have to wake up in the middle of the night just to get to know Jake? Marc and Steven notice your yearning to see Jake again.
Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader, Jake Lockley x reader. Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.
Word Count: 3k
Warnings/notables: Fluff, complicated relationship stuff, cursing, angst, sex but the language is not overly explicit and nothing gender-specific. Let me know if I missed a warning. inaccurate DID, based on the show. Not beta'd we die like arthur harrow in the back of jake's car
Dividers by saradika
PREVIOUSLY, on "With You"...
Wondering what he would ever do without you, Marc pulled you close, gently swaying with you in the silence of your flat. He had always felt so hard to love - his childhood had made sure of that. But you loved him hard.
One of the delicious advantages of being with Marc was that he liked to bury his angst, longing and inadequacies inside your body. Perhaps fucking through his feelings wasn't the healthiest coping mechanism, but it was better than drinking, and cheaper than therapy.
That's not to say Marc didn't see a therapist - he did, pretty regularly. But being inside you felt so much better than unearthing the shit from his childhood.
That's where you found yourself now, face down on the mattress, Marc's strong chest pressed to your back. Your sweat-soaked bodies writhed in tormented bliss as he thrust in and out of you - hard and almost frustratingly slow.
His thick fingers pushed their way through yours, intertwining, pressing your hands high above your head as he twisted his body deeper into yours.
You were helpless beneath him. And you loved it.
Marc was able to control so few things about his existence. The use of your body was one thing you happily and trustingly put completely in his control.
You and Marc did make soup together for dinner, but no matzah balls were harmed in the making of the soup. It was hearty enough for Marc, but also vegan for Steven. You made a mental note ask Jake what kind of food he liked.
"I don't think Jake's a vegan," Marc spoke up, reading your mind. "I think he's the reason my sandwiches are gone half the fuckin' time."
Marc and his sandwiches. He had sworn up and down, on more than one occasion, that either you or Steven had eaten his damn roast beef sandwiches. You always denied it, preferring turkey to beef. And Steven always fired back with, "Y'know I don't eat that shite, mate."
"Oh my god, I think you just solved a mystery," you marveled. The Mystery of the Roast Beef Sandwich and its thief.
Yeah, Marc wondered what else Jake was prone to stealing. Clothes? Money? You?
Then again, Marc couldn't really say anything about money at the moment. He didn't have a job, unless he counted the occasional times he fronted during Steven's university library shift. You were the breadwinner, at least for the time being, lovingly supporting Steven in getting a degree to actually match up to his intellect.
But sharing you? Was it even sharing if it was the same body? And was it even his business if you wanted to be with Jake? He had no fucking clue. All he knew was that you were about to be his spouse. Steven's too, really. But you barely knew Jake. How could you marry someone you didn't know?
"I can hear you thinking," you teased, slathering some fresh-baked bread with butter. "Wanna talk about it? Cause I don't think I can go anymore rounds today - between you and Steven." Meaning Marc wouldn't be able to bury his worries inside you until your body got a damn break.
"Do you mean between me and Steven and Jake?" Marc pointedly asked.
You dropped the butter knife. "W-what?" You squawked. "I haven't slept with Jake."
"But...you want to." Easing beside you, Marc leaned back against the kitchen counter. "Do you?"
You reallly should have spouted off a quick 'no'. But you hesitated.
"Shit," he groaned. "I shoulda known."
"I didn't say anything!" You protested, a little too innocently.
"Exactly," Marc huffed. "You didn't deny it."
"You kind of put me on the spot," you defended, retrieving the knife and returning to your task, furiously coating a slice of bread with five times too much butter. "Besides, Jake drives me crazy. If he climbs in the damn window again, I think I might shove him right back out."
"Ah, hell, it's worse than I thought," Marc grumbled, folding his toned arms over his chest in a distinct, defiant pout.
"How is it worse?" You scoffed. "And...what is worse?"
"You... him... shit," he sighed. "He got to you."
"He didn't," you protested. "Nothing happened. N-not really..." your voice trailed off as Marc's eyes flashed with possessiveness.
"Not really? I thought you said he didn't touch you. What the hell..." He paused, glancing at his reflection in the microwave.
"Is that Steven?" You interrupted, barging in to what you usually respected as private conversation between the boys. "What is he saying?"
Fixing his eyes back on you, Marc smirked triumphantly. "He's saying you look 'a bit flustered,' which would make sense, since you wore those black satin pj's and set your alarm just to see 'that mysterious bloke'."
"Steven, you are such a traitor!" You whined. "You guys are ganging up on me! I just wanted to talk to him."
"Mm-hmm," Marc hummed, caging you in against the counter with one arm on either side of your body. "So that's all you did - talk? In black satin? In the middle of the night?"
Narrowing your eyes, you called his bluff. "You guys are really obsessed with those pj's. Maybe you would have preferred I only wore your t-shirt? Or, I could have slept the way I sleep with you half the time - in nothing."
"Sure, mm-hmm," Marc playfully nodded down at you, mockingly agreeing with every word out of your mouth.
"Besides," you added, giving his chest a playful shove, "who knows how many times Jake has come home and found me like that - then slept beside me anyway?"
Marc went dead silent.
"I'm gonna kill him," he decided, waiting just a beat before scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder, spinning you around the kitchen playfully. "First him..." you squealed as he tickled your side, feeling a mixture of giddiness and dizziness as he manhandled you, "then you. And then him again."
"Marc, put me down, put me down!" you giggled delightedly, banging your fists on his back.
After a few more twirls, and howls of laughter from you, he conceded, steadying you back against the counter. The two of you were smiling, breathless... his strong arms caged you in again as he wet his lips with his tongue.
Ducking down, he pressed his body into yours, breathing hotly against your open mouth.
"Promise me something..." he murmured, sucking on your bottom lip and swiping his tongue inside your mouth. He pulled back just a little, teasing you.
"What?" you impatiently demanded, chasing after his lips.
Sliding one hand around the back of your neck, he crushed his lips to yours, giving you what you really wanted. Gripping your jaw, he slid his tongue over yours, licking hotly as you groaned in satisfaction. You could never get tired of kissing this man.
"Promise me," he finally whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. "Promise you'll tell me if something does happen - with Jake, I mean."
Easing back, he stared down into your eyes - his own warm, brown gaze pleading. "I know you don't have to. It-it's not my business, really, but..."
Sighing reluctantly, he poured his heart out to you. He knew he was safe with you - safe to show you what he really felt inside. "It's not like Steven," he admitted. "I don't know Jake. I just...I don't want anything to happen to you."
Nodding quickly, you reached up to caress his face. "Marc, of course. You're going to be my husband - of course I would tell you that."
"Really?" His eyes sparkled with relief and love.
"Yes, really," you sweetly whispered. "And I know there's no part of you that could ever hurt me."
After all that fuss with Steven and Marc, and the damn black satin pajamas, you actually thought you might see Jake again soon - particularly since he had finally introduced himself to his alters.
You thought wrong.
Jake went back to being Jake, not interacting with you or Marc or Steven, and the three of you were none the wiser about how he spent his time.
You couldn't wreck your entire sleep schedule just to look for him every night. He clearly had no intention of interacting with you during waking hours. You tried very hard not to take it personally. After all, you barely knew one another. But Steven and Marc could tell you thought of him...worried after him.
"I think you should wait up for him one night, love," Steven suggested one evening as you sat cuddled on the couch, reading together. London was being London again. The heavens had opened, dumping cold, wet rain for hours, and creating the perfect, candlelit night in for you and Steven.
Glancing over at your fiancé, so adorable in his oversized jumper, your eyebrows knit together questioningly. "You mean, set my alarm? 'Ambush' him again?"
Reaching up to pull his reading glasses off his nose, Steven shrugged. "Don't think it's much of an ambush, really. Just lovely you wanting to talk, is all. No harm in that."
Smiling warmly, you reached for his hand. "I don't think he sees me quite the way you do, my love."
"Not very bright then, is he? Running 'round at all hours for the old bird, missing the chance to come home to a wonder like you."
"Steven," you gasped, grinning at him. "Talking like that is going to bring an end to our night of reading very quickly."
"Fine by me, darling," he chuckled, tossing his book aside without even bothering to mark the page - something Steven never did. "Because I'm not the dimwitted bloke ignoring what's right in front of me." Scooting closer, he pulled you into his arms. "His loss is my gain, I'd say. Have you all the more to m'self."
So it was decided.
You would wait up for Jake (or wake up -whichever) to see if he wanted to interact with you, and ask how he was doing. It was possible, and in your mind, likely, that he didn't want to be a part of your life. But you wanted to hear it from his own mouth, especially since he slept beside you - in your bed, in your home.
Despite your general apprehension, you decided to be your most normal self and sleep (or in this case, stay awake) in one of Marc's white undershirts - they were so soft and smelled so deliciously like him. Steven's fuzzy goldfish socks found their way to your freezing feet.
You took a long nap and drank a huge cup of coffee (made perfectly by Marc) before bed. You were determined to stay up and see how Jake typically began his nighttime routine. He always ninja'd around like some sort of Father Christmas - waiting til everyone was completely asleep before darting in and out of the flat.
It would be your luck that Jake probably wouldn't even front tonight, and your caffeinated body would stare at your sleeping fiancé for the next several hours.
At first, it was difficult to resist cuddling up with your sleepy Steven. He did manage to adorably whine that he needed you, but you quickly reminded him that this was his idea.
"Just miss you 's all," he murmured, drifting off to dreamland.
You got bored very quickly. Steven had recommended a podcast called, 'Welcome to Staying Awake.' Finding some headphones, you tried it out, following the directions it suggested - reading, solving a puzzle, and so forth.
You were just starting to doze in the comfy chair in the bedroom's corner when your fiancé stirred...only to roll over and fall back asleep.
"Ugh..." you huffed, pushing off your chair to head to the kitchen. After a quick splash of water to the face and a long drink of water, you stumbled back to your bedroom...
...where you saw Steven? pulling a pair of tailored black trousers up his legs - his cozy pj's nowhere in sight. Fastening his pants, he turned around - shirtless - nodding once to acknowledge you.
"Jake?" You tentatively greeted, breaking the late-night silence.
"Hola, mi amor," Jake's rich, deep voice greeted you smoothly - his chocolate eyes flickering down to your bare legs. "I'm sorry I woke you."
"Jake," you exhaled shakily, easing toward him slowly. "You didn't wake me up. I was waiting for you."
Warmth bloomed in his chest, but he simply reached for his white dress shirt, quickly easing his arms into the sleeves and fastening the buttons.
"Where...do you keep your clothes?" you cautiously asked, inching closer.
Nodding to the closet, he remained quiet, knotting his tie and sitting down on the edge of the bed to pull on his socks and shoes. Khonshu had awakened him. Time to get to work.
"Where are you going?" you questioned after a few quiet moments watching him getting dressed.
Finishing the lacing of his shoes, he stood, reaching for his leather jacket. Realizing your question was not rhetorical, he granted you a slight smirk. "You know where."
"Can I come with you?" You blurted, already flustered. How did he manage to do this to you?
Narrowing his eyes, he shook his head, tutting a bit condescendingly. "You're not serious."
"I am," you insisted, scurrying over to the drawer to find some joggers for your bare legs. Of course, in this state, compared to Jake, you would be way underdressed. He looked head-to-toe incredible.
The faster you moved, trying to get dressed in enough presentable clothing to go out into the frigid rain, the slower Jake moved. But each action was nonchalant, as if he barely noticed your effort.
Why was he so damn infuriating? Then again, those were the exact words he'd said about you...
Pulling a leather glove over his long fingers, one dark eyebrow shot up inquisitively.
"Almost ready," you huffed, feeling like a child asking to go to work with a parent.
Realizing you were serious, Jake yanked on the second glove, giving his knuckles a crack. "Mi corazón..." he warned, pulling his flat cap over the lustrous curls on his head, and wondering what had gotten into you. You couldn't possibly think he would let you anywhere near his night life.
You were dressed now, in a weird mixture of your clothes and Marc's, but your goldfish-clad feet still poked adorably out of your joggers. Glancing all around the room, your eyes frantically searched for the nearest pair of shoes.
Approaching you confidently, Jake reached for your elbow, bringing you to a standstill. "I have to go. You should sleep."
Yanking your arm out of his grasp, you huffed. "I told you I don't respond well to orders."
Rubbing his gloved hand over the stubble on his chin, he nodded, "Goodnight," and turned to walk out of the bedroom.
"No, I'm coming with you, Jake, wait--"
"No, mi corazón. No." He whirled around, his gaze burning into yours.
"Why not?" you shot back, your hands landing on your hips. "You're going to work, right? I need to talk to you. And I want to see what you do."
He scoffed. "No. You don't."
"Stop telling me no," you snapped, realizing this whole stay-up-and-talk-to-Jake thing was already an unprecedented disaster. You simply could not keep your cool around this man.
"Ah, I see - I can't tell you what to do, but you can give me orders." Stalking back over to the night table, he reached for Marc and Steven's phone.
"I-I'm not giving you orders...I just- why can't I come with you?" You were desperate. You realized, at that moment, that alll this was not a good look on you. What happened to cool, calm and collected you? What happened to the you who respected the hell out of Marc and Steven's autonomy and choices?
You went so far as not even trying to dictate to Marc whether or not he should drink. It was his choice, always - it had to come from him. So why couldn't you do the same with Jake? You knew the drill - people were going to do what they decided to do. Arguing the point was only arguing with reality itself.
Sure, you could explain your fears or needs, and Jake could take that information into account. But ultimately, every person in the world always chose what they were going to choose - period, the end.
"I'm not taking you out there. You know it's not safe," he explained with infuriating calmness. "I'm not exactly working a normal job here."
"You mean...you mean Moon Knight. Like...saving people. Like you did with me that night."
His eyes flashed - you couldn't decipher if it was anger or surprise. "Marc told you."
"Yes," you answered softly, taking a moment to breathe in deeply. You had to calm down and stop sounding so desperate. "I just don't understand why you can follow me - why you can watch over me and save me, but you won't just talk to me." Your lip trembled as you started to realize he just may not ever want to be in your life.
"I thought you said that I was your family," you whispered, moving close to peer up into his eyes. "But you haven't talked to me in a week. I've been worried...I've been thinking about you."
Wetting his lips, Jake swallowed hard and shifted from one foot to the other - the first inkling that you were having any effect on him whatsoever. His dark eyes flickered down to yours. "I told you I can take care of myself," he gruffly responded, his resolve beginning to crack. "So stop worrying about me."
"Stop telling me what to do," you fired back, refusing to shrink away. "You're driving me crazy. If you don't want to talk to me, or know me - if you want to sneak in and out of here every night and never see me again, then just say so."
Your chest heaved with emotion. "I won't like it and I won't ever stop worrying about you, or wanting to know you, but --"
You didn't get to finish because Jake roughly pulled you into his arms and crushed his mouth to yours.
@stormydaysxx laaundromat @kindlover @spxctorsslxt @deezisnotreal
@rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face
idk if all the tags work. I tried!
#moon knight#steven grant#marc spector#jake lockley#marc spector x reader#steven grant x reader#jake lockley x reader#mcu#marc spector x gn!reader#steven grant x gn!reader#jake lockley x gn!reader#marc spector x you#steven grant x you#jake lockley x you#moon knight fic#moon knight fanfic#moon knight fanfiction#with you fic#oscar isaac fic#moon boys#moon knight system
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Round Three Round Up!
In Round Three we were seeing double as 6 out of our 8 pairs were put against their alternative selves and we asked why not pit two bad bitches against each other ?
In the only match-up where the newer version won out we lost another one of our tournament's Mr Knightleys as you declared that riding through rain, willing to ride through worse was not enough to win your hearts - instead he must have a proper understanding of muslin! And so Mr Tilney (2007) became our first Quarter-finalist.
Mr Knightley (1996) was not alone in taking his leave of us as your votes decided that Johnny Flynn's Mr Knightley (2020) was too blonde badly done compared to Mr Knightley (2009) and must go!
Mr Elliot (2022) will be likely soon spotted in town with a Mrs Clay on his arm as though he may have proved himself the hottest of the Persuasion (2022) men he was no match for Colonel Brandon (1995). Joining him in bad-boy exile is Willoughby (2008) who could not beat the man best known as Emma Thompson's husband leaving Willoughby (1995) as the last libertine standing.
In another win for Sense and Sensibility (1995) Edward Ferrars (1995) proved that while a Wet Shirt scene written by Andrew Davies might have worked once, Dan Stevens chopping wood in the rain was too blonde not enough to prevail against Hugh Grant and the power of being married to Emma Thompson in any universe, real or imagined.
Captain Wentworth (1995) also sailed through against his 2007 counterpart as the voters told us once again that they hated blonde men if it was made in '95 that man was staying alive for another round and so Captain Wentworth (2007) becomes only a gallant Captain Wentworth, in a small paragraph at one corner of the newspapers.
In one of our tightest run polls that went back and forth several times it was Bingley Vs Bingley but in another win for the '95 contingent - the curly hair clinched it and Mr Bingley (1995) proved the victor.
And of course I must end with the biggest poll of the week, breaching the walls of our little tournament to be voted on by 28,987 tumblr users, the poll that ended in a most well deserved 50/50 split, Mr Darcy Vs Mr Darcy. How could anyone vote for THAT Mr Darcy you yelled at each other - HAND FLEX! WET SHIRT! you cried! But when push came to shove despite 14,484 of you declaring that you loved him most ardently 14,503 of you had decided he was the last man on earth who you could ever be prevailed upon to marry and left that wet cat out in the rain. And so, though we offer him a most cordial curtsey we must say goodbye to a very worthy loser Mr Darcy (2005).
Thank you for all the excellent propaganda sent in - I will be taking a days break before putting up the Quarter-final polls, giving you until Thursday to send in any propaganda you want included on the main poll posts and me time to add it! But for now we must once again say...
Farewell Gentlemen!
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NSFW Headcanon Request: Steven Grant (Moon Knight)
Steven Grant + Professor Kink/AU: (prompt list here)
- Steven Grant thought there was no greater joy or honour in teaching young minds about ancient Egyptian history, and then he started teaching you.
- He had seen flocks of enthusiastic young people come and go from his halls over the last few years of teaching, and sure he'd had a few favourites here and there, but nothing compared to the first time his eyes locked on yours from behind his lectern. It was embarrassing how quickly he tripped up his speech as his eyes lingered on yours, unable to look away from the unique sparkle that flickered so clearly in them. He tried to remember where he got to in his introduction, blush rushing up his cheeks as his heart sped up far more than his usual presenting nerves, and when he watched you smile at the way he fumbled through his first attempt at a joke he started to think maybe this is what love at first sight must feel like.
- When you found him after class and asked one of the most creative questions he'd ever heard from a student in his years of teaching he couldn't quite believe how exhilarating it was to talk to you, butterflies stirring up inside him as if he'd made an instant old friend. He bit back his tongue as the thought of asking you to continue this conversation over dinner crossed his mind, trying to remind himself of his position as your professor despite how easy it was to view you as his true equal.
- You had been feeling more than a little frustrated that you had to take at least one history module as part of your studies, but at least Ancient Egypt had been your favourite time period when you were learning history in school. And when you noticed your adorably handsome professor stumble over his words with a sly smile when he caught your eye, you were pretty sure you'd never miss a lecture again.
- You'd find reasons to talk to him after class or during his office hours, and he'd send you articles or podcasts he thought you'd find interesting, telling you to call him any time to discuss your thoughts. He wanted to pretend that the power imbalance wasn't any part of his blatant attraction to you, but he couldn't ignore the way his pulse raced every time you called him professor. And finally as the spring turned to summer and you started wearing your favourite short dresses to his class, watching the way your legs would float down the stairs as you found a seat about halfway back, he knew he wasn't going to be able to wait until you graduated before he finally told you how he felt.
- It wasn't unusual for him to ask you to come to his office out of hours, usually just for an academic discussion over a cup of tea that inevitably turned to the two of you sharing more and more personal stories. But on this day you were greeted by a glass of wine and a bouquet of roses, rather than an academic text. He looked almost pale as he stumbled through the sweet confession that he had never felt like this before, and even though he knew it was improper, he couldn't bring himself to wait another minute to tell you how he felt.
- As he stares at you with the most hopeful eyes, you'd lunge forwards, wrapping your arms around his neck before landing your lips on his, finally giving him the sweetest relief of knowing how it feels to kiss you. He'd be so gentlemanly that first night, insisting he takes you on a real date so he can prove this isn't just a torrid love affair to him. You'd reluctantly agree to wait a little longer to rip his clothes off, surprised by the nervous giggle he'd let out in response, grabbing his keys so he can take you somewhere far enough away that you won't see anyone else from the university.
- A discussion over drinks with your fingers intertwined would feel more natural and comfortable than any interaction sweet Steven had ever had, as when you whisper in his ear that your ready for 'his private office hours, Professor' he'd be on his feet so quickly you'd have to stop him for tumbling over himself.
- That night, and every moment after, his office becomes his favourite place to be close to you. He takes so much joy in bending you over his desk and flipping up the skirt he's spent all lecture admiring. He makes sure to sink to his knees and run his tongue over your slit until he can feel your arousal dripping down his chin, wanting to treat you the way only an older man will, a tinge of insecurity running through him when he sees you talk to any of the idiot boys your own age around campus. When he starts slamming into you from behind he'll insist you call him professor, a swift palm slapping your ass if his first name leaves your lips. Sometimes he'll have you sit straddling his lap in his expensive leather armchair, instructing you to ride his thigh until he can see a glistening trail forming across his corduroy slacks, feeling both powerful and completely under your control.
- As much as he pretends there isn't something so fucking hot about being in a position of authority over you, when you come into his office asking for extra credit, you can guarantee he won't exactly have you writing an essay for him. Instead he'll take something else he wants from you, tossing all the papers off his desk and lifting you onto it, pulling off your clothes deliberately slowly so he can graze you with a dozen teasing touches before he instructs you to lie back and stay still for him. Still fully dressed he slides open a desk drawer, pulling out a small vibrator you're pretty sure he stole from your dorm room.
"Given you're already a star pupil, you're going to have to be really good for me to get some extra credit love."
"I'll do anything you want, Professor." Your voice quivers as he runs a finger slowly up your inner thigh, watching your chest rise and fall in response.
"I'll give you ten percent on the assignment for everytime you come for me." Before you can negotiate the details his fingers are rubbing over your clit ever so gently, and your body seems more than ready to give him anything he asks for. It takes almost all night, the first two coming quickly as he works his fingers over your entrance, only slipping his fingers inside for number three when your legs start twitching and trembling with every slight change in his movement.
"You're doing so well, gorgeous, already 30% through your extra credit assignment. But we've still got a long way to go." You can see the mischievous glint in his eye and swallow hard, already starting to feel overwhelmed by the way he expertly manipulates your body. Soon his tongue is nestled between your legs while his fingertips tweak your nipples, the extra sensation quickly driving you to the 50% point, starting to feel a bit unsure of how much more of this your overstimulated body can take. As you try and catch your breath, coming down from your latest high, you suddenly hear the buzz of vibrations as Steven slides the small device over your slick entrance, even the softest setting feeling overwhelming when you're already so wet and sensitive. You feel Steven start using his considerable strength to keep your hips pressed firmly against his desk, no respite or escape as the pressure inside you starts to climb again. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as you start think there's no way you can come again, and you whimper out his name so softly you almost don't think he hears you, until you feel the intensity between your legs shift up a gear, making your whole body spasm in blissful agony.
"Now now, good girls don't call their professors by their first name. You're going to have to be more careful or I'll have to start counting again from zero." You can tell from his grin that he'd do it, finding unparalleled joy in forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you and watching you struggle to hold yourself together as you leak more and more across his desk and flinch at even the gentlest touch. You bite back your tongue as he works to make you cum twice more, finally pleading with him to give you a break, to let you take 80% on the assignment.
"Come on sweetheart, you're so close to full marks, I know you can give me just a couple more. You're doing so well for me. I just want to feel how good I've made you feel." You hear him unbuckle his belt as he coos softly at you, waiting for you to tentatively nod your head before his whole body is onto top of you, keeping you exactly where he wants you as slams into you with no mercy until finally you give him everything he wants and more.
- Luckily you have a chance to get him back a couple of weeks later, when your makeout session gets cut short by another student coming in to ask a genuine question. Steven doesn't think twice about the way you hide under his desk to give him some privacy, that is until he realises his trousers are still undone and you're planning on taking full advantage of that. He keeps his eyes trained on the student in front of him as he feels your tongue lap as his tip, his fingers digging into the arms of his chair in a desperate attempt to remain composed. He manages okay as you run your tongue over the length of him, but when you give him no warning and slide him between your lips straight to the back of your throat he has to stifle an uncontrollable groan and awkwardly blame it on a stomach ache. His hips start twitching in his seat as you suck him as hard and fast as you can without making a sound, and as you start to feel his stomach muscles tense under your touch you notice Steven shooting you a startled look whenever he thinks he can. You don't pay him any notice, choking him back and running your hands over his lap and stomach until you watch his eyes clench shut and feel the taste of him spilling over your tongue, impressed by how quickly he blames his reaction on the fact that he must be coming down with something. When finally the student leaves and you two are alone once again, Steven sinks to his knees with the biggest smile on his face, telling you 'Just how brilliant you are, even if you will absolutely be the death of him.'
- With his own student days being far more tame and isolated than he would have liked, Steven feels like he's making up for lost time in the sweetest way when he sneaks into your dorm room for the night, or finds some weak excuse to attend a student party just so he can spend the night somewhere fun with you. He'll find excuses to bring you to the events in his calendar too, saying he's making a tradition of bringing his best students to events, even if it's always just you held tight by his side in a dress he genuinely forgets how to breathe around when he first sees you.
- While he may have a huge professor kink thanks to you, and gain some thrill in sneaking around with his reputation on the line, he also can't help but daydream about a time after your graduation when the two of you won't have to sneak any more and he'll be free to walk hand in hand with you everywhere to two of you want to go.
#writing#fanfiction#requests#one shot#steven grant imagines#steven grant fluff#steven grant smut#steven grant x reader#steven grant imagine#moon knight imagines#moon knight imagine#moon knight x reader#moon knight smut#moon knight headcanons#moon knight
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Little obey me headcanons (pt 5)
A/n: God it’s been a while since I put out one of these things. Apologies yall, finals are terrifying but thankfully I passed all my classes, so yay! Anyways same thing as usual, though this one is mostly world building, so enjoy!
MC has an entire kitchen in their room. Bit weird to think of yes, but I just saw the dinning table in their room and the stuff behind it and it was the first thing that came to mind, the whole room is basically like an apartment but it’s no where near as big as the other brothers rooms. Also did you know that they had an entire kettle in their room???
Okay maybes it’s not a kettle more like a tea pot but you get the point, MC kitchen in room canon./hj
Mammon is infact not above stealing your stuff, has he sold any of it? No. Will you ever be getting it back? Also no. It’s been 4 years Mammon, MC wants their hoodie back.
RAD is basically the Harvard of the Devildom, of course there are other Ivy League schools throughout the realm, all ranked high in various categories and filled with various species, but if you really want to be a high ranking deadly demon then going to RAD is practically an requirement.
If you ever watched Steven Universe, you’d know that Garnet can give kisses that let you see into the future for a brief period of time. Barbatos can basically do the same thing, and can choose the amount of time that it lasts for, ranging from 3 hours to 4 days.
However it’s been MILLIONS upon MILLIONS of years since he’s done this and he’s never told anyone about it besides Diavolo, well until you of course. Just keep it a secret between the 3 of you all, will you?
Demon possession is in fact real, it’s sort of like a fucked up version of fusion, all the abilities and talents that you have can be accessed by your possessor, the strength that the two of you have is combined since like 93% of humans have no magic and it’s deadly wether you’re a human or a demon them punches are going to hit hard. Sloth demons are mainly the ones who have this ability.
If you ever get so lucky to the point where you get to me any of the Royals you MUST kiss their hand, it’s considered extremely rude and informal not to do so, doesn’t matter if it’s a woman, man, or a being with no hands at all and just a bunch of tentacles. You better find a way to kiss that damn hand. MC finds out about this by pure accident.
“Ah- Lord Diavolo, I’m sorry I didn’t even realize you were there.”
“Haha, no worries! It’s not common for most to not recognize me when I’m in the room!”
“Here, allow me to make it up to you…” *Smooch*
“…”
Typically Diavolo is very neutral when it comes to formal greetings since he technically gets them like every week but there was something about it being you giving him kisses on his hand that make him feel “butterflies in his stomach” as humans say.
Ever since then he’s demanded that you give him hand kisses every time you swag by the the Demon King’s castle, with a blush on his face of course.
There’s a three headed version of almost everything in the Devildom, it’s not just Cerberus, there’s three headed butterflies, cats, raccoons, rats (much to Barbatos dismay), and of course demons. No one knows exactly why, but most speculate it probably has something to do with the air.
No one is letting you die, there’s too many things that they want from you, too many things they want to give you, yet so little time to do so. You can scream at them, hate them forever, never talk to them again, but please for the love of god. Just don’t die.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader#obey me!#obey me diavolo#mammon#obey me barbatos#obey me barbie#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me mc#obey me x mc#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me simeon#obey me solomon#obey me belphagor#I’ll fix mammons name later lol
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Father Mine- 3
ok so this is where canon goes out the window, ive made my own universe, this might be blasphemy against marvel comics but i dont know. Honestly i made this up as i kept going and i like how this chapter ended<3 tell me how you like it! if you want a spoiler go to the tags and see what i've tagged :) part 1
You must have passed out because you wake up in someone’s living room.
“Anyone home?” You dare to call out. The apartment is sort of open-plan and if you had the energy to turn around and move you would have been able to see the man in the white suit staring at you.
“Yep. Hello!” The man walks up to you and you flinch at his strong southern london accent and glaring white suit that makes him look like a psycho Colonel Sanders, “I hope you’re alright, Khonshu said you were from another dimension?”
You reluctantly reply, “That’s right? And by Khonshu do you mean the actual Egyptian God?”
He nods excitedly, “Yea! Right twit he is!”
You look at him worriedly, maybe he is psycho colonel sanders after all.
He looks at himself in the mirror and does a double take, “Oh bollocks! No wonder you look scared!” The suit disappears to reveal a man with wild curls in an oversize t-shirt and pajamas, “sorry, sometimes I forget I still have it on.” He smiles nervously, “Um I’m Steven. With a V.”
That causes you to smile a little, maybe he’s not so bad, “Hello Steven.” You wave from your position on the couch and tell him your name.
Behind him you see a bony pigeon looking skeleton appear and your eyes widen, “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” You point at it and scream.
Steven turns around, “That’s Khonshu, you can see him?”
“NO SHIT!” You web a wall and pull yourself up to stick to it, glaring at the offending creature.
“That’s mental.” He exclaims.
“What universe is this?” You ask him, eyes narrowed underneath your mask.
“Well, there’s no particular name for it.” Steven begins, but Khonshu intervenes, “How is it that you were able to traverse through the inter dimensional planes?”
“I knew someone who could.”
Suddenly Stevens demeanour changes and your spider sense tingles, you ready your webs against the potential threat.
The voice that comes out of Stevens mouth is not his. It’s the sound of the man who threw you here.
“Kid?” He says when you freeze and take your mask off, looking at him with wide eyes.
“You’re-You’re not Steven.” Your voice breaks at the familiar lilt.
He shakes his head, “My name is Marc.”
———————————-
“Miguel! Stop it!” Jess finally snaps and the man looks up at her.
She takes a hold of his hair and uses it to maneuver his face to look at him, “You either go and get her back, or you fucking move on. Because in this state there is no way you will be able to do anything. Get your shit together. ”
He gulps, not used to seeing her angry side often and nods.
“She thinks I’m a monster.” He looks down at his toes and breathes shakily.
“Then prove to her that you’re not. You’re her father, regardless of what she says, she still loves you. You need to apologize to her.” She looks at him pointedly and he sighs.
"What do you want me to say, 'Hey honey, I know what I did was wrong, I was wrong to chase a teenager and I was too blinded by my fear of losing my daughter again that I chased you away. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.' Thats not going to be good enough."
"It's a start."
"Jessica." he looks up
"What?"
"I should have told you, something about her."
"What?"
"She's not a normal variant, even if her universe was destroyed. That fact alone makes her a special case. There's a reason I sent her to Earth 19999. Her atoms and dna will not glitch there. And I don't know why."
"Why didn't you send her there before?"
"It was too dangerous."
"As opposed to Earth 1999999?" Jess raises an eyebrow.
"Very similar universes, but everything is flipped."
The woman tilts her head, "What do you mean?"
————-
You sip on the hot tea Steven had made for you, glaring at the bony god sitting opposite you.
“I cannot send you back, child.” He says and you roll your eyes,
“As if I didn’t know that. The tea’s lovely, thank you.” You smile at Steven who beams at you. He’s much nicer than the American man living inside him. The one who was Miguel in this universe.
“Marc?”
He nods, “I happen to know of someone who can help you.”
You tilt your head, “Go on.”
He went to explain how he was on call as an Avenger, who were considered the world’s mightiest heroes, and how he was acquainted with someone known as Dr Strange.
As soon as he says, the name Strange, your mind considers the possibility that you might be in the universe of idiots, as Miguel calls it. Earth-1999999.
He’s spent whole hours explaining the entire storyline that honestly came out of a movie to you and while it was such, really Captain America you ditched your best friend to go be with someone who had already moved on? You were drawn to the universe.
It reminded you very much of your home universe that was destroyed.
When you’d nodded and said you’d be on your way he’d blocked you from leaving. Saying it was too dangerous and that you were being an irresponsible person.
You tried to reason with him but he was able to block your punches with efficiency, and he reached for your web slingers. The ones Miguel had given you.
That was currently why there was a purple bruise on Stevens’s cheek that you felt bad about. This sweet man didn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of a hard punch. So you had helped him around the kitchen and he made you tea as a way of saying thank you.
“If you can’t take me away, you can atleast lead me to Strange, considering your own Knight isn’t letting me leave.”
“For good reason.”
“But it doesn’t make sense, without the watch I would be glitching every three seconds because the universe would not accept my genes. Here I haven’t glitched a single time.”
The god tilts his head and seems to contemplate your words, mimicking the man who looks at you with his head tilted, “Most interesting.”
Whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as orange sparks began to appear out of thin air, forming a circle and then a portal out of which a man with a weird beard walks through. He nods at Steven and walks over to you, “So you’re the one huh?”
“No, your mom is.” You snarl, “Yes. Doctor Strange, I’ve heard of you.”
“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, “Am I a common topic of conversation in the multiverse?”
“When we have to make fun of something yes.” You grin.
He rolls his eyes, “How did you arrive here?”
“Look I'd leave if I could, sir. But my device was taken away by the jerk who sent me here.”
His eyes narrow, “Sent you?”
Shit, you might have said the wrong thing.
------------------
"So you're not from here." The sorcerer supreme raises his eyebrow at you.
"No, sir." you're shocked at your politeness, but the man demands respect.
"And you cannot go back?"
"No."
"There is only one person now, who is capable of autonomous multiverse travel, America Chavez. And even her powers are not perfect. It is too risky to do this."
"What would you have me do then?" you ask.
"Wait here, there must be a reason you are not glitching. Maybe, you were meant to be sent here." Strange reasons.
His words make sense, honestly, maybe this universe would be your new home. Even back in Nueva York, you had to wear the watch at all times, or you'd be glitching.
But did Miguel know that? Because if he didn't know, then that would mean he'd sent you to your death.
You just nod at what Strange says, his words going in one year and out the other. You miss the way his eyes glint and flash. His shadow moving under him.
"She can stay with us at the tower." Steven puts his hand on your shoulder, looking directly at Strange, no smile on his face. After a few moments, the Doctor nods.
Your spider sense starts to tingle, and you glace at Steven, who only smiles at you. All teeth. Eyes that are blank. Devoid of emotion.
Now that you're here to stay, he looks like he's never been happier.
"You're going to enjoy yourself here, love." he pats your shoulder, "We'll all have a bit of fun."
You need to run.
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara#marc spector#atsv miguel#father mine#mini miguel<33#mandela catalogue#atsv
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Ryan: Breakups are very tough. Your life goes on, though. I was very sad after a breakup, but my life went on.
Shane: It did.
Steven: It did, and—
Ryan: But it does feel like the end of the world. That's actually one thing Shane told me, when I was going through my breakup, that I haven't really forgot. It did—it did help quite a bit. He had mentioned that when people go through breakups, in that time, it does feel like it is at the center of the universe and in re- reality, it doesn't really matter that much in the grand scheme of things.
Shane: I mean, it's one of those things where you can't—yeah—you go through those phases where you simply can't imagine ever [wheezes] not feeling horrible.
Steven: Loving again.
Ryan: Yeah.
Shane: And then eventually, uh.
Ryan: It was very helpful, 'cause I was pretty down during that time. But I, uh. We've never actually mentioned this in any media that we've done—
Steven: What?
Ryan: —but Shane has a very—it's funny to me now—and, look, it's—and we both find it funny—don't get angry at Shane—I think it's very funny. There's a photo of me [laughs]. There's a photo of me in Savannah, Georgia. We were filming an Unsolved episode. At the time I was very depressed and I was going through this breakup. You could actually see it in those Unsolved episodes. I had lost—I want to say 20 pounds.
Shane: Yeah.
Ryan: Like, 'cause I was just—I was unable to eat. I was just not—I had no appetite. And there's a photo that Shane took of me standing on the street with T.J. Marchbank.
Shane: And to be clear, when I took the photo, I was just like, 'hey guys!' [mimes holding up a cameraphone] It was just—
Ryan: 'Hey, look over here!' kind of thing.
Shane: Yeah. And then I looked at the photo and I was like, 'oh boy.'
[Ryan and Steven laugh]
Ryan: And you could see in my face I'm just not having a good time.
Steven: [to Shane] Do you have the photo?
Shane: Yeah!
Ryan: And look I get that this is, like, you know, a weird thing to think is very funny. [points to self] I think it's funny but—uh.
Shane: Well, in retrospect we can laugh.
Ryan: Yeah, in retrospect we can laugh.
Shane: Especially because, you know, it was a great time for T.J. 'cause he had just started wearing hair gel.
Ryan: That's correct.
Steven: [laughs]
Ryan: T.J. had never understood how to do his hair or use gel and so I guess we taught him how to do his hair.
Shane: So he's looking—he's like, looking like Mister Cool over there and you're looking like Mister Real—
Ryan: I—I look like a husk of a human.
Shane: Well, you're going through the—you're going through the motions of—you're smiling.
Ryan: Yeah. I remember just before this picture I had run, like, five miles.
Shane: So, to the naked eye, it's like: there's two guys. Let me zoom in on Ryan.
Ryan: [laughs]
Steven: [laughs] oh!
Ryan: Just the saddest man on Earth.
[all laugh]
Ryan: It was not a good time.
Shane: That was rough.
Ryan: But, a very funny memory.
Pod Watcher 007: Movies, Water, Magic
posted Nov 27, 2023
#pod watcher#watcher#watcher entertainment#ryan bergara#shane madej#steven lim#bfu#buzzfeed unsolved#TJ marchbank
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Oscar Isaac Characters Finding You Dead
Minors DNI
Featured Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Moon Knight System, Basil Stitt, Blue Jones, Poe Dameron, Nathan Bateman, Duke Leto Atreides, Prince John, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Anselm Vogelweide, Llewyn Davis, Abel Morales x gn!reader
Sorry if anyone is ooc!
CW: death, murder, suicide, blood/gore, break-in, various wounds, torture, etc. + pet names, untranslated Spanish, so on.
Notice! Not all of these scenarios are romantically founded, the reader is just someone who knew the character/was close with them.
These are just some short, dumb little rambles/headcannons of mine, so it’s not written the best.
Not proof read or heavily edited
Miguel O’Hara - Villain Attack
There was never a doubt in Miguel’s mind, he knew that one day he’d have to save you. But not like this…
A Green Goblin anomaly had appeared and started bombing Nueva York.
You’d think with all the Spider People so close by, there’d be no casualties. But being so focused on protecting other universes, he almost neglected his own.
The moment Miguel was aware of the anomaly, he and many other Spiders rushed in to help protect the city.
The damage was already extreme, with two buildings nearly demolished.
Spiders spread across the scene, saving and moving the bystanders as Miguel focused on the alternate Goblin.
After capturing the terrorizer, Miguel started barking orders to everyone, wanting everything cleared up asap.
He was heading back to base as the spiders cleared the rubble.
“Oh god- MIGUEL!” One of the Spiders cried out as they tried to lift a large blanket of concrete up. The urgency in their voice quickly set Miguel off.
Miguel rushed over, his heart dropping seeing your dust covered body.
How long had you been under there? Why didn’t anyone sense you sooner? Miguel’s mind raced with panic.
With his sheer strength, he threw the debris away from your body and checked your vitals, his eyes focused on your face the entire time.
Open your eyes… please… mi amor…
When didn’t feel a heartbeat, he went to start cpr, but realized your ribs were broken. The broken bones had stabbed your vital organs, he couldn’t save you, it would’ve only caused more damage.
Miguel didn’t even realize he was crying until he saw his tears hit your face, muddling the dust covering your skin.
It wasn’t often he cried, hell, it took a good few minutes for him to start crying over Gabriella’s death. But after another loss, he couldn’t hold in the pain he was already barely containing.
His arms cradled your broken body with the most care possible. It didn’t matter that you were gone, you were his, the person he swore to protect.
I failed again…
Sobs ruptured through the bombing site. The boss who everyone saw as intimidating and cold, was now hunched over, sobbing over your limp body.
I failed.
I failed.
I failed…
Moon Knight System - Steven / Marc / Jake - Break-in and Murder
Steven, once again, had a late night of work at the gift shop. He was exhausted when he came home, but was more than happy to be back home after stocking shelves for hours.
He was almost tempted to let Marc or Jake front instead, but Steven wanted to see you before Jake took off to do Konshu’s bidding later in the night.
“Love, I'm back!” He says, keeping up his cheerfulness. It had been a long day, he just wants to see you.
Looking around the house, Steven felt confused. You normally rushed to meet him, to welcome him back.
Where were you?
Walking into the bedroom, Steven saw your form under the blankets.
“Love? Are you not feeling well?” He asked quietly, worried he might wake you.
You looked at peace, your hair tousled as it lays on the pillow. Your skin was a bit pale, but Steven smiled softly, assuming you were just tired, he knew he sure was.
His hand fell on your covered stomach as he sat beside you. But a warmth quickly spread over where he had applied pressure to the blanket.
Looking over, Steven nearly had a heart attack. His hand was tacky from blood that now soaked the thick comforter that’s covering you.
With fear rushing through his veins, he ripped off the covers to reveal the stab wounds littered across your torso.
A scream ripped through his chest as he quickly tried to see if you were still alive. His heart dropped when he felt your cold skin and lack of a heart beat.
Despite Jake and Marc trying to desperately front, Steven wouldn’t let them or listen to their pleads.
Instead, he grabbed your body and sobbed. His hand clasped yours, wishing yours would squeeze his, that you’d wake up and kiss his worries away.
No, no, no— what happened— love… oh god…
It took a good while for Steven to let one of the others front, but Marc took over when he got the chance.
Both had been confined to the mirrors in the bedroom, wishing they could hold you like Steven had. Instead, for over an hour, they were stuck in the mirrors, cursed to grieve from a distance.
Steven faded back into the subconscious, too drained to watch Marc from the mirror.
Jake, on the other hand, took a step back into the subconscious because he had his own plans.
Marc didn’t sob as much as Steven did, but his pain was just as bad.
He had lost so much in life, he was almost confused on how to express his grief for you.
His fingers run along your face, tracing every detail he loves so much. Marc wished you would open your eyes, but your body was long since cold.
Marc wished he complimented you more. Sure, he praised you often, but did you know how much he loved you?
His heart ached with guilt. Marc wanted to make you blush once more from his compliments and soft kisses.
He didn’t know who did this. But he would. They’d find out who did this.
They all would get justice for you.
By Konshu’s word, he swore they would.
It was Marc who called the police and watched as you were dragged away to the hospital morgue.
It was Marc who watched the security footage that showed your killer breaking into the apartment and leaving an hour later.
It was Marc who found out the explicit details that came with your murder.
Marc was the one who told Steven and Jake the details.
This shouldn’t have ever happened… but now we know. What do we do next?
Jake was the protector, or so he’s supposed to be.
Standing over your body in the freezing morgue, Jake stared at your expressionless face.
He could remember the last time you two had a date night. The night was warm as he drove the two of you around town. He could remember the beautifully warm smile that broke across your face as the date came to a close.
Jake would do anything to see that smile again.
The others had already fronted to say their final goodbyes, Jake wanted to be the last one. He wanted to talk to you one last time.
“We found out who did this, amor.” He whispered, trying to contain his wavering voice.
“They won’t get away with this…” His lips brushed your forehead.
”I’m sorry I couldn’t save you…” His tears finally fell down as he reluctantly pulled away.
As he left the hospital, Jake dawned the suit and slipped into the night, ready to enact revenge for you.
Your murderer will regret ever laying a finger on you…
Basil Stitt - Suicide
Basil hadn’t seen you in a while. Yes, part of it was because he had locked himself in his apartment, but he also just hadn’t seen you pass by his door.
He always had his eye to the peephole when you should be leaving or getting home from work.
Is that weird? Of course, but it made him feel less alone. He wanted to talk to you, but his scars contained him to his room.
Where were you? He wondered after spending an entire day looking out into the hallway.
Basil’s heart dropped when he saw movers taking garbage bags out of your apartment.
What are they doing to your things?
Despite his fear, Basil dawned his paper bag and poked his head out.
“What are you guys doing?” Basil questioned nervously.
“There was a suicide. The family wanted us to collect the person’s belongings.” The confused and hesitant workers answered.
Basil slammed his door and collapsed to the ground instantly. The paper bag tumbling to the floor as he clutched and pulled his hair.
His body trembled with grief and hatred as tears pooled on the floor.
He never was good at reacting to bad information, but this was worse.
Why did you leave him too? What did he do wrong?
First it was his face, then his job, then his family and girlfriend, but now you too?
His tears turned to screams and Basil went on a destructive rampage in his apartment, the agony overwhelming him.
He blamed himself for your death, despite barely knowing anything about it.
Maybe if he hadn’t gone into hiding, you would’ve lived. Maybe you two could’ve been lonely together.
But he was also angry.
How could you leave him after everything that happened to him? When he needed you the most?
You didn’t know though. How could you? Your neighbor, the only person you saw everyday, had disappeared for weeks without a word.
Basil knew that, but nothing could stop the emotions flooding and pouring out of him.
Why did you leave me? Why? Why?! Why?!?
Blue Jones - Murdered by a Client
Working for Blue always had its risks, and everyone knew that, including him.
But Blue didn’t expect this.
You had been bought out for the night by a rich newcomer. Nothing bad was supposed to happen.
Blue gave them permission to use you as you saw fit. As long as the merchandise didn’t get damaged, anything went.
Blue stood over your strangled body, his face neutral and flat.
Your glossed over eyes stared back at him, lips hung open loosely.
He didn’t expect his toy to be destroyed, let alone strangled to death.
Your costume was still on, but your makeup was out of place. Blue’s doll was a beautiful, broken mess.
Blue exhaled a puff of smoke as he turned to the killer, the man a sobbing mess.
“I didn’t mean to- they wouldn’t listen to me- please let me go, I’ll compensate you-“ He tried to ramble out, shutting up when the barrel of Blue’s gun pressed against his forehead.
The shot rang through the entire building. The girls and clients quickly rushed out of the other rooms to see what happened.
Screams and tears broke out from the girls as Blue pushed past everyone going to his office.
But it was once he was alone that Blue had the chance to process what happened.
Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw your dead ones. It hurt seeing something he owned in such a state.
Only one tear falls down his cheek as he reviews the footage of what happened. He always kept cameras in the rooms, it was a security measure, but he didn’t think he’d actually ever watch the footage for something like this.
Blue already knew the man was lying about why he killed you, but it hurt to watch you get choked and beg to be let go of.
The man was just angry, he only wanted to kill. You had done nothing wrong. Which made Blue mad.
He leaned back in his seat as the hot, silent tears fell down his cheeks, hidden by the cigar smoke flooding the front of his face.
Blue decided that, from the forward, he was going to be far more strict with who could touch his toys…
My poor bunny…
Poe Dameron - Spaceship Crash
You and Poe had agreed to stay safe, to meet one another after the fight concluded.
Together, you were going to celebrate the victory.
Poe knew you were an intelligent flier, that you were going to do great things for the universe.
There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that everything went well, until he joined the celebrations…
Everyone was celebrating over the successful stop to the First Order. But as Poe searched the crowds, he realized you were missing.
Fearing the worst, he darted to the medical tents, desperately looking for you. His fears were met when he saw your barely breathing body.
Poe fell to his knees besides the cot you rested on, analyzing the damage you had taken.
He called out your name, to no response.
“Their ship was shot and crashed. There were some malfunctions and the safety’s didn’t trigger. They don’t have much longer, there’s nothing we can do on such short notice.” A nurse sadly explained.
“So you're just leaving them to die out!?” Poe exclaimed in horror, his tears falling fast and hard.
Despite wanting to reprimand the nurse, he knew it would do nothing. Instead, he held your hand to his lips as he watched you until your final breath.
In your final moments, Poe had been whispering soft and loving words to you, hoping you could hear him.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner, that any of this happened. You deserve the world, the galaxy. You helped save us. You’re a hero… you’re my galaxy…”
Poe couldn’t stop crying, and he could barely hear himself over the cheering outside.
He should’ve been celebrating with you, this shouldn’t have happened.
No one knew where Poe had gone, and hours later, Finn had to pull Poe away from your body.
Despite all reluctance, Poe eventually left your side for the night, but he didn’t stop mourning you.
That night, he spent his time in your room holding your belongings close, not wanting to lose the last bits of you he does have.
My galaxy, I’m so so sorry…
Nathan Bateman - Killed by a Prototype
You had been one of the few people Nathan trusted enough to come around the house.
Not that he ever let you go downstairs, no.
He didn’t need you to.
When first developing Ava and her predecessors, he had chosen to try and study a real person. Not through the cameras like he did later on, no.
He thought it’d be better to model the AI after someone he liked.
But he was wrong. One of the few times he had let his emotions make his decision, and it was the worst one.
While trying to work out the kinks of the AI, it had escaped. It had knocked him unconscious for long enough that it made its way upstairs.
The girl stared at you in horror as you stood in the kitchen, knife in hand from making dinner.
You looked just as shocked to see a nude woman coming up from the basement, wires hanging from her broken arm.
She even looked oddly similar to you.
Before you could even react, she tackled you, the knife going flying.
Nathan, having heard the crash, awoke and ran upstairs.
He came up from behind and broke the AI’s skull, the body falling on top of you.
“For fucks sake. That was awf…” he trailed off once he shoved the AI’s body to the side and saw you.
Nathan didn’t know how to react seeing your bleeding body, knife sticking out from where your heart is.
There was no hospital nearby, and with how glassy your eyes looked, he knew you were doomed.
Silently, Nathan sat back on his knees and feet, just staring down at your lifeless body.
He wasn’t an emotional person, but he didn’t like how he felt at that moment.
His eyes searched yours before shifting to the dead AI woman, his creation, your killer.
Nathan’s fists reacted quicker than his brain had, and before he knew it, his hands were bloody from breaking the AI down to nothing but shards.
His feet moved to the bar, and before he knew it, he had drunk a full bottle of vodka.
His knuckles, caked in dried blood, chucked the bottle at the wall. The shatters go flying, some even hitting you…
Nathan stood over your body, once again, staring down at you. His expression unclear.
After your death, Nathan was far more careful. Adding keycards to open doors, not just simple locks.
He even kept the prototypes locked up no matter what.
And who knows, maybe your death is what got him to start drinking so much…
How idiotic…
Duke Leto Atreides - Poisoning
Leto knew the dangers of loving you, yet he still did it.
He always made his love clear, practically worshiping you in private.
Leto would risk his life and title as Duke just to care for you for forever.
He wanted to propose eventually.
But your life was taken long before he had the chance.
The Duke looked down at your slumped body, your poisoned drink spilt from where your head had fallen.
In that moment, Leto regretted never marrying you.
He loved you, but in theory, it was better to stay unmarried, open to alliances with the other Great Houses.
But this wasn’t worth it.
Your life wasn’t worth it.
Leto had to keep his composure in front of his men, but in the comfort of his room, he cried. He weeped.
His sobs shook his body as remorse and grief overwhelmed his senses.
Seeing your body in such a way, it shook him to the core.
Sure, he had experienced death before, but this was different.
He loved you, and he saw where you died, he saw you dead.
Choked sobs escaped his lips as he recounted all the moments you two shared.
He wished he could’ve kept you safe, stopped you from drinking the poison.
You were in the House of Atreides, you should have been safe.
That’s what ate at him. That you died where he swore you were protected.
You died under his care.
Why you were killed, he wasn’t sure. But he swore to find out, to avenge you.
If nothing else, he’d make sure to get you justice.
He loved you, and he messed up never marrying you.
I wish I had made you mine, my dear…
Prince John - Assassination
John, the prideful idiot, should’ve never put a bounty on Robin Hood’s head.
It only made his reputation worse.
John should’ve lowered the taxes, but he didn’t.
And now all the citizens hate him, rightfully so.
But John always had you to go back to, you to love and receive love back.
You tried to reason with John, to show him he was being unreasonable and bleeding his kingdom dry.
Yet he never listened, and he now knows the danger of not listening to the advice he gets.
You had just been going about your business, crossing through the towns when you were attacked.
What was supposed to be a simple robbery, turned to an assassination. One of Robin’s troupe mates had gone rogue; they wanted to send Prince John a message.
The message was received.
John had gotten word of what happened.
He found out about how you begged for your life.
How you cried before your body was abandoned on a wooded path.
It made him angry. It made John furious.
You didn’t deserve this. You advocated for the citizens, yet you were the one killed.
John had destroyed everything in sight upon hearing of your murder.
His guards and mother had barely been able to calm him down. But once he had come down from the rage, John broke out into sobs.
He was barely consolable, all he wanted was to fall into your arms and be comforted by you.
Just one more time, John wanted to feel you caress his scalp as you reassured your love for him.
He couldn’t believe he lost you, the only person who loved him.
In spite and pure hatred, John raised the bounty on Robin Hood and his gaggle of followers.
John wanted them alive so he could execute them on your behalf, but he’d take their dead bodies as well.
As long as they were dead, he would be content.
Robin Hood… you’ll regret this… hurting my beloved…
Santiago “Pope” Garcia - Car Accident
Santi had been through so much in life, and it made him extremely overprotective of those he loved.
He always was worried and tried to protect you.
He didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, especially in the dangerous world we live in.
So why did the world still take you from him?
Santi didn’t know how to react when he got the call from the hospital.
He initially had ignored the call, thinking it was a reminder to set up an appointment or something. But when they called again a few minutes after, the blood in his face drained.
“… died… car crash…” those were the only words his brain registered the operator saying.
His heart broke into a million pieces and he felt like he was hyperventilating.
You died..? How could you die in a crash? After everything tried to do to protect you?
The call had ended and Santi sat hunched over, crying into the palms of his hands. His breathing was erratic and uncontrollable.
If he had picked up the first time, maybe he could have made it to the hospital. Maybe he could’ve said goodbye. At least, that’s what he thought.
“I’m so sorry- oh god, no…” He murmured over and over, desperately wishing it wasn’t true.
He almost wished he was at the crash, that way he could’ve seen you one last time. But now, he’s stuck waiting for the morgue to call, waiting to confirm that it’s your body on the table.
Santi’s sobs only stopped when he passed out from exhaustion.
Why did this happen to you? Why you…
Anselm Vogelweide - Shot on Accident
Anselm was known for his erratic and random behavior. That included when he’d change his mind on a whim.
Despite his absurd actions, you cared for him, as he did you.
Anselm always kept you nearby, and everyone knew that. Even people just passing through his office knew that.
He treated you differently, he treated you better than most of his other employees.
Where he’d change his mind as he saw fit with his clients, he was very firm with his decisions regarding you.
And it didn’t go unnoticed.
So when Anselm decided to raise the price out of the blue on a client, the client was pissed.
It wasn’t unexpected that a gun was going to be pulled, but the gunshot that rang out- that was a surprise.
His men had already detained the perpetrator before Anselm realized that you’d been shot.
Your hands clutched at your bleeding heart, and your eyes quickly fell shut, your body following suit.
Disregarding his squeaking leg brace, Anselm dove to collect your body in his arms.
His eyes were wide with horror and disbelief at the sight of you dying in his arms.
The world was practically silent for him as he watched you breath your last breath.
Anselm sat there for a moment, pulling your body close to his chest in an attempt to preserve your warmth. He felt an ache in his chest when you gave no response, your body limp and spilling blood.
Anselm didn’t give himself the time to mourn or cry, instead he went cold, his heart stilling for a moment as his attention turned to the shooter.
Looking through the fogged glass lens, Anselm ordered to have your killer chained up in the basement as he carried your body to another room.
For months after your death, Anselm tortured the person who killed you.
The basement became a crime scene of horrific activities. Teeth and nail pulling, breaking bones, slicing skin, it was all incomparable to what Anselm felt the murderer deserved.
They killed his dear dove. This was the least he could do.
His disappointment was immeasurable when he found the murderer dead one morning, Anselm felt far from done torturing them.
The body was disposed of swiftly, and afterwards, Anselm visited the extravagant grave he made special for you.
It was only then, after everything, that he let himself cry over your passing.
My dove…
Llewyn Davis - Suicide
Llewyn was your friend, and the two of you always helped one another out.
He needed a couch to sleep on, you were open. You needed a drinking buddy, he was there.
You both couldn’t offer much monetarily, both just trudging through life and old habits.
But you always left the window unlocked, just for him.
Llewyn hadn’t heard from you in a while, and it had just so happened, he needed a place to stay and was in the area.
Throwing open the fire escape window, he hopped through, entering your apartment.
He called your name as he wandered around, confused where you could be so late in the day.
Yet, when he arrived at the bathroom door he paused, knocking before entering.
He instantly wished he never opened the door.
In the tub, surrounded by bloodied water, he saw you. Your face was towards the window, like you were watching the sky before you died.
The sight made him nearly hurl, but the tears made it out first.
What have you done…
Just when Llewyn thought his life couldn’t get worse, you decided to leave him just like Mike did…
Of course, he knew it wasn’t actually a choice to go against him, but it still felt like he was part of why you took your life.
And that broke his heart.
If he had just visited you or bummed at your place more often, would you still have gone through with it?
He called the police after a bit of a breakdown, and a few days later, he was alerted that your only goodbye was a note scrawled with “I’m sorry.”
Maybe the note was for him, but boy, he wished there was more.
A simple “fuck you Llewyn” would’ve been better than this…
You had always asked him to play a song, but he alway said no. He always said he was too tired, that music was his work, not something he wanted to do all the time.
You never pushed him to play for you, not like other people did. So, he never played for you.
But now, in front of your grave, Llewyn played his heart out to you. His tears bouncing off his guitar, onto the frozen ground where you’d been buried.
‘If I had wings, like Norah’s dove,
I’d fly up the river to the one I love…’
Abel Morales - Accidentally Killed During Work
Abel knew the dangers of letting his employees continue their oil deliveries and solo inspections.
So many of his employees had already been attacked, yet he still took the risk.
He just didn’t expect the attacks to get worse.
Sure, some had been threatened with a gun, hell, one was kidnapped and beaten.
But this was the first time someone actually died…
Upon hearing about your death, Abel stopped in his tracks and demanded to know what happened.
He felt like his life was falling apart the moment his wife explained what happened.
After so many troubles and hoops he’s had to go through for his company, he didn’t think he’d be losing one of his best employees as well.
You were doing a simple house call and sales pitch.
That’s all it was supposed to be.
If he had known your colleague wasn’t feeling well, he wouldn’t have sent you out to the call at all.
He never would’ve guessed you’d decide to go alone…
Abel felt guilty over your death. You died because the competition was trying to send a message, or at least that’s what he assumed.
Abel held his head high as he found out about the circumstances of your death.
Apparently, the murderers were only meant to rough you up a bit and dump you just outside city limits, in a particularly snowy area.
But as you tried to run away, one of the goons tried to shoot a warning shot to get you to stop.
The bullet hit you in the Achilles tendon.
You collapsed into the dense snow instantly, crying out in pain.
In fear of getting arrested, the shooters fled, leaving you to bleed in the snow.
You died of hypothermia. You could’ve been saved.
That’s what hurt Abel the worst.
If your killers had just tried, they could’ve brought you to the hospital. But instead, they’re now awaiting a trial and eventual imprisonment.
But because they confessed, and it was an accidental death, they would be able to have parole, they could walk free one day.
To Abel, they deserved to rot in prison forever. But he didn’t have the right to oppose the judge, not when your family had already accepted the punishment.
Abel paid for the funeral, and there he saw you for the last time.
I’m sorry this happened… I’ll take care of your family from now on. I promise…
—————————————————
Brb sobbing in the club rn…
For real though, thank you for reading!
Feel free to send over any requests/suggestions
#miguel o’hara angst#moon knight angst#steven grant angst#marc spector angst#jake lockley angst#basil stitt#blue jones#poe dameron angst#Nathan Bateman#duke leto atreides#Prince John#santiago pope garcia#Anselm Vogelweide#llewyn davis#abel morales#angst#miguel ohara#moon knight#steven grant#marc spector#jake lockley#Poe dameron
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Hazbin Hotel character thoughts / impressions (Episodes 1 & 2)
1/12/24
UM. what a weird first actual post for my blog for this year... this is long, and i miss making ACTUAL blog posts instead of small threads... And i've explained on my twitter my thoughts on Hazbin / Helluva from a critical standpoint and artist from art separation, yadda yadda yadda---
ANYWAY... Episodes 1 and 2 of Hazbin are (Officially) out now, and i have some thoughts on the characters i wrote down after watching (In bullet points, because most of these are fresh-from-the-brain thoughts i wrote on my tablet from my bed)
(Spoiler alert, Sir Pentious isn't ruined and I AM SO GLAD. my snake babygirl... ilu)
Read on, if you wanna, spoiler warning btw!!!!!
CHARLIE NOTES
-Charlie is good., Charlie is cute, but i fear for her safety, not everyone can new redeemed. she's like steven universe at points i stg 😭 (not a jab but i think it's funny)
-i like how they gave Charlie bags under her eyes a lot, she is a tired princess just like all of us
-She gives off elementary school teacher vibes but in a wholesome way
-Charlie's hair is SO CUTE MESSY..
-PERFECT voice /gen
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VAGGIE NOTES
-GIRLBOSS (still, but more)
-Vaggie is still cool, she just loves her gf and is sick of everyone's bs but is still supportive...
-If she doesn't get into a bloody death match with Alastor (and win) i will be disappointed /hj
She doesn't seem to have as much of a temper as she did in the pilot, but seems more dead inside
-Good voice!
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ANGEL DUST NOTES
-Angel... hm. Angel. he's Angel, for sure. Hi, Angel!
Insecure about a lot, but also YOU CAN BE THE CHANGE YOU WANT!!!!! if vox doesn't kill val angel should. please and thank u.
Also his voice is alright, just need to get used to it a little more
Also i hope he's not too bratty jealous of sirpent / whoever else charlie praises because again, it's ON HIM TO COOPERATE WITH HER CAUSE MORE??? ignoring his other stress sources (Val)
-Waiting for him and Husk to kiss. I know it's coming
-Just fucking block Val's number and rip up the contract (YES i know it goes deeper than that...)
-NUGGS. I SCREECHED IRL /POS
THEY GAVE HIM A HEART ON HIS BUTT!!!!! S TIER REDESIGN
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ALASTOR NOTES
-At first i was kinda Eh about his voice but it's grown on me, the radio filter is a little more subtle than the pilot but it's still there which i'm glad for
Delightfully passive aggressive
-Weird magic still, there doesn't seem to be any limits to it... we need to know what his weakness is...!!!!! please (maybe that will come later??) ....... i theorize he has underworld contact (Shadow-world, because of the shadow imagery?) , the underworld might be different from Hell maybe? (Where do those fucking tentacles come from, also weird monochrome demons)
-Interesting he was gone for 7 years. 7 is an angelic number. HMMMMMM (sealed away by angels somehow??)
-Punchable (Vaggie please)
-Weirdly enjoyable and not genuinely hateable like some of the other characters, but i also want to see his demise, maybe his sadism is rubbing off on me, but i want to see it badly...
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SIR PENTIOUS NOTES
-Sir Pentious... u are so good.. probably has some of the best writing so far, maybe... he's my favorite so. hhHHmm
his voice is different but at the same time it's what you'd expect, i like it a lot... so silly, i pat him and his silly hat
-Pathetic old man. You win my heart (50x as much)
-Only one egg spoke so far, i wonder if they'll all have unique voices this time (the Japanese dub of the pilot did that lol)
-Genuinely a joy every moment he was onscreen (Too fucking cute... GRRRR)
-How did he get into contact with Vox? Why would Vox want anything to do with him if he thinks he's a loser? (I guess easy access into the Hotel) ...Fuck em either way (DON'T BE MEAN TO SNAKE MAN)
-Cool temporary stunning hypnosis, maybe we'll see him coil and bite next, the snake attack traits are fun
-His autism vibes grow stronger and it's canon in my heart
-We LOVE a redemption song. please stay in the hotel with everyone, don't fuck it up!!! you're a good noodle.... 😭 The song was genuinely so cute... it's probably going to be the highlight of EVERYTHING for me, besides Nuggs..
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HUSK NOTES
-i luv u kitty
-His voice is different but captures "Grumpy old alcoholic" perfectly
-His heart needs to be melted...
-Him holding the script in front of the camera was great
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NIFFTY NOTES
-Niffty is a BIG COWARD. you can still love a "Bad boy" who's a redeemed bad boy!!!! just because he's not morally bad doesn't Not make him a Bad Boy. fuck u (i still like you)
-Her voice is really cute, also her nightgown.. though finding out she doesn't have dark bug limbs but is just wearing gloves and stockings surprised me more than it should've... put them back
-Also autism vibes, love it
-She still frightens me a bit
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V TRIO NOTES
VOX
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-Seems to carry the team, voice has grown on me
-I can't stop looking at his weird finger claws, they almost look like
he's just wearing things over his fingers, i dig it
-Interesting hypnosis power, i assume Alastor is immune
-Why can't Alastor and Vox just compromise and create a podcast?
-Hates Val (sorry shippers) ,,... kind of expected it since in old official sources it's been shown that he's been abused by Val too
-This isn't a note but everytime Alastor said "THE TV IS BUFFERING~" in their duet, the player kept fucking up 😭
-Decent song, I like seeing him and Al argue
-I surprisingly don't hate him! i'm glad. i wanted to like him (though, it's only been 2 episodes so far...)
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VALENTINO
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-More manchild vibes than i expected tbh
-Voice is alright but his accent is weirdly inconsistent for some reason???? interesting direction
-His manipulation is shown well in the voicemail scene with Angel, he's literally got the "Nice Guy" energy
-Surprisingly didn't order Vox around as much as i thought he would
-Why does he have girl Fizzy bots...
-Die?
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VELVETTE
-Fashion design isn't something i expected, but then again i didn't know that much about her prior other than she's obsessed with social media
-British is also not what i expected but cool
-Uh. she didn't really stick out to me that much...sorry..... she's fine tho
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ADAM & LUTE NOTES
-Personally do not like how these angels look so menacing, i get that they're technically bad, but... make them look more angelic besides halos and wings??? they could easily be mistaken for hell residents. Also again, i feel like angels should swear less and drop swears in critical / good timed moments, it would be funnier... subtlety is not a thing i guess
-Adam's guitar solo was good tho, not really feeling his character tho, he's just an asshole but that's the point
-Adam looks like the fucking dress meme. I can't unsee it
-Lute is pretty...
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KATIE KILLJOY & TOM TRENCH NOTES
-Brandon Rodgers
-They sure were there for a second!
-i luv tom
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All in all...
Episode 1: 6-7/10
Episode 2: 8.5/10
#this here is a hammy post#Hazbin Hotel#Angel Dust#Sir Pentious#Alastor#Charlie Morningstar#Vaggie#Niffty#Vox#Valentino#Velvette#Katie Killjoy#Tom Trench#Adam#Lute#Fat Nuggets#SO MANY TAAAGS#review#i guess?#hazbin hotel spoilers
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🏵️ independent together 🏵️
[Lucifer Morningstar x Reader]
[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four]
[Word Count - 5.5k]
[Tags: Fluff, bit of angst sprinkled in, bit of Adam x Reader sprinkled in too, songfic, two songs this time!!]
[Notes: This is the last part, I don't wanna milk it lol. I put two songs in this part, mostly because I really wanted to give Adam a song. Also, yes, this part is, like, triple the size of the others, sorry to those who don't like long one shots. I got way more love for these than I thought I would, so thank you to everyone, it was so much fun. I literally was getting at least a hundred notifications a day lol, thanks again for all the love]
[Additional note: take a shot every time you read "independent together". I love the song, but HOLY SHIT are the lyrics repetitive, it was so hard to write in a way that flowed easily]
“Hey, bitch, you alright in there?”
You ignored the voice on the other side of the door. You didn’t dare crawl out of the safe space that was your blankets. The thought that he might be standing on the other side made your gut twist in fear, even if you knew that wasn’t the case. You didn’t dare risk it, even if you knew there was no way Adam and Lucifer would be standing side by side outside your room.
Adam grumbled in annoyance at the lack of a response. Charlie had begged him to come check on you after you disappeared into your room days ago. You refused to open the door for anyone, not even Charlie, and the only person she thought could convince you to open up was Adam. He didn’t see the point in bothering, saying that they should just leave you be to mope, but Charlie insisted. So, here he was, against his will, checking on you.
As the silence drawled on, Adam rolled his eyes, grabbing your door handle and giving it a twist. It was locked, but locked doors meant little in Hell, applying just a tad bit more strength to twist it open. The door gave in, opening to reveal your bedroom.
You heard the door creaking open, shooting up out of your blankets. Glaring at your intruder, you're curled into the blankets, completely wrapped up in the only thing keeping you safe from Adam. Even though you knew he was completely harmless, you still didn’t feel comfortable being in the presence of anybody at all, not right now. Not after what you’d witnessed in Lucifer’s room.
“So, the fuck is up?” Adam asked as he threw himself down onto your bed, the bed creaking loudly from the sudden addition. He laid on his side, leaning his cheek on the palm of his hand, his masked eyes looking over at you curiously. He couldn’t deny that he too wondered what had suddenly got into you. You were fine the night they drank together. “You’ve been holed up in here for days, the bitch is starting to get worried.”
By “bitch”, you knew he meant Charlie. You knew she was worried; she had been coming up to check on you the last four days you had been isolated in your room. You would give her a short reply, saying you just weren’t feeling well, but you’d never open the door for her. Well, she’d certainly be able to come in now that Adam had broken the lock on your door. You’d have to ask Alastor to fix it, which you were not excited about.
“I’m fine,” You rolled your eyes in annoyance, turning to lay on your side and hide your face from Adam’s view. “I told Charlie I just wasn’t feeling well. Tell her not to worry, I’ll get over it soon.”
“Tell her yourself, bitch, get out of bed,” Adam said, laying on his back as he casually examined his nails, which had now turned into claws since his second death. You growled in annoyance, kicking him in the side, earning a pained cry from him. “What the fuck is your problem!? Being a little fuckin’ rude, aren’t ya? Even after I came up here to check on your ungrateful ass!”
“Maybe don’t break into people’s rooms, Adam!” You shouted, sitting up and glaring down at him. Adam huffed, crossing his arms as he sat up. He practically eclipsed you in size, especially as his wings ruffled in annoyance.
“What’s your deal? You were fine the other night, are you just pissy with me? Did I do something to piss you off?” He asked. You looked at him in surprise, eyes wide.
You didn’t think about it until now, but that’s probably how it appeared to Adam and the others. You had spent another long night of drinking with Adam, only to suddenly close off the entire world, including Adam, with no explanation. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you shook your head. “No, it wasn’t you, you didn’t do anything. It was...”
You paused, unsure if it was the right idea to tell Adam of all people what had happened. When Adam leaned in curiously, a brow raised, you decided it was too late to back out of telling him now. “It was Lucifer. He was... I found him singing, about me, about us...”
Adam looked down at you, confusion written across his face. “Singing about you? That’s fucking weird. He sounds totally into you, fucking gross.”
You winced at his harsh words, though you didn’t disagree. Lucifer was missing you; he had sung all about how much he missed you, how much it hurt him to see you again. You found it somewhat pathetic that he was hurting, when he was the one who abandoned you. It was his fault he was missing you.
Your anger revitalized, you clenched your fists as you huffed. “I know. It’s honestly pathetic; he’s the one who cheated! He shouldn’t be surprised I’m not going back to him.”
“Woah, wait, what?” Adam grabbed your shoulders, looking down at you in pure shock. It took you a minute to process why he was so surprised, when it occurred to you that Adam didn’t know. It had completely slipped your mind that you hadn’t told anyone the actual connection you had with Lucifer. As far as everyone else knew, you two just used to be close friends. Nobody knew you were actually married.
Your throat dried at the realization, tripping over words as you tried to come up with an explanation. Adam immediately saw through your lies, gripping your shoulders tighter, demanding the truth. You chuckled nervously, leaning away from him, although unable to escape his grip.
“We, ah... Lucifer and I were actually married before everything happened. He cheated on me and left me for Lilith...” You spoke, hoping and praying to anyone that would listen that this didn’t get back to Charlie. You should have known Adam better though. He was going to make this a huge deal.
“No fucking way,” Adam released you, placing a hand on his head as he came to terms with the bombshell information. “No fucking way. This is perfect.”
You raised a brow in confusion, wanting to question him, but you had no time to voice your thoughts as you were ripped out of your bed. You yelped in surprise as Adam squeezed your wrists, bending over to have his face directly in front of yours.
“Let’s make him super fucking jealous,” Adam grinned from ear to ear, his mask visibly glitching with excitement. He could finally get back at Lucifer, take his revenge for stealing both of his wives. “Come on, it’s fucking genius. Little man stole both our lives from each other! He stole my wives, and cheated on you with them! So, wouldn’t it just be so perfect that we just happen to get a little too close, fuck around, and make him super jealous? It’d be the perfect revenge, and hey, you’ll get to dick around a little too with the Dickmaster.”
You cringed at the title he chose for himself, pulling back from him, but not strong enough to escape his grip. “I don’t know, Adam. I’m not into you like that. And I don’t want to catch Lucifer’s attention any more than I already have.”
“Come on, babe, everyone’s into me like that,” Adam scoffed, pulling you to him by the waist. “Let’s just give it a try! He likes to sing about you, huh? I wonder how much he’d like it if I sung about you.”
“W-Wait, Adam—”
Before you could resist any harder, Adam whisked you away, throwing you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes as he flew back to the main hall, where everyone sat about in the lobby. You went limp against him, knowing there was little use in fighting the stubborn demon, a small chuckle escaping your lips. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a little fun with the situation, as messed up as it was.
“Oh! Adam!”
You heard Charlie’s voice as Adam came to a stop in the center of the lobby. He set you down on your feet, turning to Charlie with a smirk. “Got the bitch out, no need to thank me, I know I’m the best.”
“Right...” Charlie gave him a forced smile. She turned her eyes onto you, about to ask you a question, when Adam spoke back up, ripping Charlie’s attention away and back onto him.
“So, listen, CharChar,” Adam smirked as his particular use of the nickname caught a certain Devil’s attention. “I just came up with a sick ass way to thank you for letting me freeload off you while I’m down here. Seeing as how you guys all love a sappy fucking song, I decided, why not have the First Man put on a little show? I’ve got the voice, I’m the best at what I do, it’d be the fucking best.”
Charlie’s eyes visibly lit up with excitement, Adam’s words surprising the other residents as well. The entire time Adam had been staying at the hotel, he refused to do anything for anyone, and especially refused to thank Charlie for allowing him to stay. Charlie had assumed his sudden change had occurred because of you, giggling excitedly at the thought. Finally, she was seeing some progress. Or so she thought.
“That’d be great! When would you like to do it?” Charlie asked, beaming up at him.
“Right fuckin’ now,” Adam smirked, grabbing her wrist. Charlie yelped in surprise as Adam dragged her toward the lobby steps, leading her toward the roof of the hotel.
With that, Adam had set up a very impromptu concert. You had tried to tell him that it was too much for a little bit of messing with Lucifer, but Adam was dead set on doing it. You didn’t even understand what a concert had to do with making Lucifer jealous because, as far as you knew, you weren’t even joining Adam in his little surprise concert. Adam didn’t tell you anything, just that he was going to have a little fun with the song.
Charlie had materialized a small stage on the roof of the hotel, the hotel’s bright lights lighting up the stage brilliantly. She was nearly bursting at the seams with excitement, so much so that Vaggie was having to calm her down somewhat. You looked at Charlie with a brow slightly raised, almost concerned for the woman, before your gaze drifted onto a person standing in the back. Lucifer.
You knew he was only up here because Adam had led Charlie up here. Lucifer didn’t trust Adam a single bit, barely letting the demon out of his sight sometimes. In fact, the only times where Lucifer wasn’t watching Adam like a hawk was when Adam was with you. The thought made you frown, huffing as you walked up to the stage where Adam stood, tuning his angelic guitar.
“Hey, Adam,” You called out, trying to get his attention without earning others’ unwanted attention. Adam looked down at you, before smirking and walking up to the edge of stage you leaned against.
“Wassup, babe?” He asked, sitting down. You hummed, your finger pressing into the wood of the makeshift stage, pulling at one of the jagged chips.
“Are you sure this is a good idea? It’s going a little far just to make Lucifer jealous...” You muttered. Adam scoffed, his eyes rolling heavily enough to be seen even through his digital mask.
“Come on, this is our revenge! This is our way of getting back at that midget for fucking our relationships up. He’s a little cheater and a wife stealing asshole. Let’s just have fun with this!” Adam exclaimed, grinning widely, baring his fangs.
Before you could reply, Adam stood up, pulling his guitar up to rest on his shoulder. His movements as he walked to the center of the stage caught the attention of the little audience, everyone’s eyes landing on him. You huffed, stepping back to stand next to Charlie as Adam spoke up.
“You guys ready to have your fuckin’ panties blown off by my sick skills!?” Adam yelled, getting excited himself. Not only had it been a long time since he got to play any music, but it was all to fuck with Lucifer. This was the best kind of music. “Let’s do this shit!”
Adam strummed the strings of his guitar, making an almost bursting sound, before easing into a slow tune. You looked up at him in surprise, not aware that he could make any music that wasn’t just loud noise and screaming. It sounded shockingly good, almost like he planned this, and you knew he hadn’t.
“Nothing is holding you back now,” Adam began, his voice soft, and lacking any of the curses he usually threw around. He looked down at you, winking and blowing a kiss, causing your face to warm up as you chuckled nervously. “No one can push you around.”
“What do you wanna do? You’re the master of you,” Adam stepped closer to the edge of the stage, his eyes trained completely on you. He reached his hand out to you, surprising you as you hesitantly took it. “And isn’t the thought enough to lift you off of the ground?”
Adam yanked you up off the ground, pulling a squeal out of you as he threw you into the air. A pair of wings sprouted from your back, the lights of the hotel and the city shining all around as you floated high above everything. Looking down at Adam, he gave you a large grin and a thumbs up, making you giggle.
“Nothing,” You sang along, a grin spreading across your face. “Is holding me back now. No one can push me around.”
Landing next to Adam, you looked up to the taller demon with a beam, your lips tugged upward into a smile. “What do I wanna be? I’m the master of me, and isn’t the thought enough to lift me off of the ground?”
Your wings flapped in sync with Adam’s as you both lifted off the stage, mimicking each other’s smiles. Adam took the lead, leaning into you as he sang.
“We could be independent together, independent together, we can fly,” Adam leaned his back against yours, your wings pressed together, moving together as one. “Independent together, independent together,”
You looked up to Adam with wide, awestruck eyes, your genuine smile a sight to see. Adam had been the only one to make you smile like that in a long, long time, and he knew it. It made something within him flutter to life, something he hadn’t felt in a just as long time. Genuine happiness. He truly enjoyed singing with you.
“Independent together, you and I,” Adam shot you a smile, making you giggle as you pulled away from his back.
Adam looked back to you in surprise, his eyes widening as two more pairs of wings sprouted from your back. A halo formed above your head, its form in the shape of a crown on your head. Its white coloration immediately drew attention as your hair fluffed out, much like that of a seraphim. Your bright blue eyes shone brightly, matching the new pairs of eyes that dotted your body and wings, your clawed hand reaching out to Adam.
Adam looked up at you in shock, no doubt unaware of what status you had been as an angel. You giggled as he hesitantly took your hand, momentarily awestruck by your transformation. He quickly recovered though as he pulled you to him, holding your angelic form against his own demonic body.
“High above an endless sea,” Adam’s face leaned in closer, his breath fanning your face. You smiled up at him, leaning into his hold, letting him guide you. “No one brought us here but me. Every step and every choice...”
His body turned, squeezing your hand as he pulled you along. Backs pressed together; you fell downward back to the stage. “It’s my fault, it’s my thought, it’s my words, it’s my voice,”
Landing on the stage with an explosion of light, you let out a giggle as you used your own angelic magic to summon a matching bass to play along with Adam. Adam’s face visibly lit up as you began singing and playing along, your voice taking on a more angelic sound.
“Independent together, independent together, if we try,”
You and Adam leaned in, your smiles lighting up the stage as you sang together, perfectly in sync. “Independent together, independent together, independent together, you and I,”
You had completely forgotten the whole point of this impromptu concert at this point. You forgot that there was an audience, that the rest of the world surrounded you. In the bright lights of the city and hotel, you could only see Adam before you, his face progressively getting closer.
“Independent together, independent together, we can fly,” Your six wings spread out, your eyes glowing with exhilaration. You didn’t notice just how few inches apart your face was from Adam’s, nor did you see just how that affected the Devil that caused this whole concert to begin with.
“Independent together, independent together,” Your hand reached out to Adam, your palm pressing against his masked face as you looked into his eyes. He could have sworn you were looking straight through his mask and into his eyes with how you were holding eye contact, getting lost in each other’s eyes. “Independent together, you and I,”
Your wings slowed to a stop as you and Adam landed. You leaned your forehead against his, surprised as he returned the gesture full heartedly, nearly leaning into you as the song slowed to a stop.
“Independent together, you and I...”
You looked up to Adam in both surprise and excitement. Adam held the same exact expression, as if surprised by how carried away they had gotten. Laughter bubbled from within you as the bass you held disappeared, jumping into Adam’s arms with a squeal. Adam chuckled as he held you up, spinning around, before setting you down.
“That was fucking awesome, babe!” Adam exclaimed, throwing his arms up in exaggeration. You chuckled at his reaction, before remembering that you had an audience. You turned your attention to see their reactions, your eyes widening.
Tears streamed down Lucifer’s face as he stood in the very front of the small crowd. He looked up to you with a desperate, almost pleading look. Charlie called out to him with a worried tone, snapping him out of his daze as he roughly rubbed his sleeve across his face, whipping around and storming off without a single word.
“Dad, wait! What’s wrong!?” Charlie yelled, watching as he slammed the door behind him, disappearing into the hotel. A loud burst of laughter caught her attention as she turned around to see Adam completely doubled over, struggling to contain himself and breathe.
“D-Did you see his fucking face? We broke him,” Adam stuttered through his laughter, wiping away a fake tear from his mask. He stood up straight, turning to see your reaction, his laughter coming to an abrupt halt as he saw the distraught look on your face.
“Wait a minute,” Charlie held her hands up, shaking her head in disbelief as she approached the stage you and Adam stood atop. “You mean you did that on purpose? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Come on,” Adam groaned in annoyance, jumping down onto the floor before Charlie. “We were just messing around. We wanted to get a little revenge for Luci ruining our relationships.”
“What?” Charlie’s brows furrowed in confusion, turning her attention to you as you stepped down from the stage, your angelic form disappearing in a flash of gold. “What is he talking about? What relationship?”
You stilled at Charlie’s words. It seemed your hesitation caught the others’ attention, Charlie leaning in closer as she glared down at you. You growled in annoyance, turning your irritation on Adam. “Come on! They weren’t supposed to know!”
“Oh, shit, my bad,” Adam held up his hands defensively, stepping back from you. Your attention was shifted back to Charlie as she urged an explanation from you, making you sigh in frustration.
“Ch-Charlie, there was a reason I never said anything. I didn’t want to get in between you and your family, even if Lucifer and Lilith are split up. I didn’t want you to be mad at Lucifer, I—”
“What are you saying?” Charlie cut you off, confusion written across her face. She didn’t understand. She didn’t want to understand, but she was already beginning to get somewhat of an idea. She knew what Lucifer did to you, abandoning you in the garden and running away with Lilith. But she didn’t even imagine that there was a whole other layer to it. She didn’t want it to be.
“Charlie... Your dad and I were married,” You spoke softly, as if scared your words might harm her, scar her. She loved her father deeply and held him up on a high pedestal. She would often talk about how her parents met, and how she loved their love story, even if they were split up. You couldn’t bear to ruin that image, even if you were mad at Lucifer.
Charlie’s eyes widened as she froze up. It almost felt as though her heart came to a halt in her chest, stilling the blood in her body. “Wh-What?”
“I kept it a secret because I didn’t want to ruin the image of Lucifer that you have. Please don’t be mad at him, I—”
“How could I not be mad!?” Charlie exclaimed. You looked up at her in surprise, your eyes going wide. You didn’t think you’d ever heard Charlie yell in the time you had spent in Hell. You almost didn’t think she was capable of getting genuinely angry.
“All my life, I thought mom and dad had a perfect relationship,” Charlie paced back and forth, pulling her hair by the roots, something that had become a habit in times of stress. “Even when mom left, dad still stayed loyal, he wore her ring, he didn’t try to move on. I-I can’t believe he would do that! He’s such a fucking asshole!”
“Babe, calm down...” Vaggie tried to plant Charlie in place, placing her hands on Charlie’s chest to keep her from pacing. Charlie growled in annoyance, sidestepping Vaggie as she continued to walk her anger off.
“And you! How could you stay quiet about this?” Charlie looked down at you with a pleading look. “I deserved to know what kind of a man my dad is. I should have known what he did to you, what he...”
Charlie trailed off, hiding her face in her hands. Her body shook slightly, the telling sign of the turmoil that lay just beneath the surface. Your heart broke at the sight of Charlie struggling to keep herself together, stepping toward her as you gently grabbed her wrists.
Pulling her hands away to reveal her sorrowful face that had been soaked in tears, you gave her a soft smile, your thumbs caressing the palms of her hands to try and calm her. Charlie had been the only person aside from Adam to be friendly to you, the only demon down here that truly cared for you. You couldn’t stand to see her breaking down, not over something that was between you and Lucifer.
“Charlie, despite what Lucifer did to me, he’s still a good person. He’s spent the last ten thousand years trying to make up for what he’s done, to make up for his past mistakes. I don’t want you to be mad at him, not when he’s putting so much effort into making a change,” You dropped Charlie’s hands to move to her shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Besides, isn’t the whole point of the hotel to atone and become a better person?”
Charlie’s eyes seemed to widen at that, as if remembering her whole mission with the hotel. A soft chuckle bubbled within her, lifting her hand to wipe away the stray tears that remained. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Charlie pulled you into a hug, momentarily surprising you before you returned it in full, holding her tightly. You felt her sigh shakily against you, releasing the remainders of her stress, before pulling away with a renewed smile.
“You know, if you keep making progress like this, you’ll be redeemed in no time,” She said, making you chuckle. But your laughter died down as you turned your attention back to the door that Lucifer had stormed through not too long ago.
“Maybe you should go check on him,” You said, gesturing toward the door. Charlie’s eyes followed your own, a soft hum on her lips as she mulled over it. She couldn’t help but still be slightly upset over the reveal of her father’s infidelity, having to remind herself that the whole point of her mission was to forgive those who did wrong.
She looked down at you with a smile, holding her hand out for you to take. “Could you come with me?”
You looked up to her, bright blue eyes going wide. You weren’t entirely sure you were ready to talk yet, still afraid that you might give in to your emotions and give him another chance. You were still afraid that he would take advantage of your weak emotional state and hurt you again.
But the look Charlie gave you promised that she wouldn’t allow her father to hurt you, never again. So, despite your better judgement, you trusted her, placing your hand, and your emotional security, in her own.
Leading you back into the hotel, you and Charlie went out to search for Lucifer. Finding his bedroom to be empty, the two of you made your way down into the lobby, surprised to find him just about to leave. Charlie called out to him, surprising him as he whipped around, a forced smile on his face.
“Ah, Charlie! I was just about to head out, I—”
Lucifer cut himself off upon seeing you beside Charlie. The forced smile immediately dipped into a frown, but he stayed in place as you and Charlie approached. He wanted more than anything to disappear from the world and never been seen again, especially as he felt your cold blue eyes meet his own.
“Dad, there’s something we should talk about,” Charlie began, before taking a deep breath and looking at you. “Something you should talk about.”
You looked up to her nervously, your heart thundering in your chest, especially as Charlie released your hand and stepped back, leaving you to stand alone before Lucifer. Your gaze landed on his eyes, bright red irises that you had always found alluring. You opened your mouth to say something, Lucifer doing the same, but nothing came out, no words were spoken. You could only look away, casting your stare onto the floor.
Charlie seemed to notice the thick, tense air between you two, sighing deeply. A small smile pulled at her lips as her soft voice filled the lobby, catching the attention of you both. “Why don’t you talk to each other?”
Charlie stepped toward you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and back, pushing you toward Lucifer. Both yours and Lucifer’s eyes widened at the sudden close proximity as Charlie continued. “Why don’t you talk to each other? Just give it a try,”
Charlie grabbed her father’s hand, Lucifer’s eyes stuck glued to yours, giving you an almost fearful look. He jumped in his skin as he felt Charlie place his hand in yours, the touch of your corrupted angelic skin the exact same as he always remembered. “Why don’t you talk about what happened? I know you’re trying to avoid it, but I don’t know why,”
“You might not believe it,” Charlie gave you a reassuring smile as she stepped back, leaving you in the presence of Lucifer. You glanced at the hand where you were connected with him, unable to help the heat that rushed to your cheeks, or the tears that began to well in your eyes. “You might not believe it, but you got a lot in common, you really do,”
“You both love me, and I love both of you...”
Lucifer sighed, his hand squeezing yours gently, taking in the way your soft palm felt under his thumb. He looked away, taking in a shaky breath as he forced his voice to work for him. “Look, if I were you, I’d hate me too.”
“I don’t hate you...” You muttered, keeping your gaze on the floor as you held back your tears. Your throat squeezed tightly, trying to keep everything tightly wound up inside you, trying to hold yourself together.
“Why not?” Lucifer looked up to you with wide eyes, as if begging you to hate him. Because it’d be easier for him to come to terms with you hating him, than for him to accept that you’ve moved on and don’t care anymore. “Y-You should hate me, you should want me dead,”
You looked up to him in surprise, a stray tear escaping your eyes as you chuckled, your cheeks crinkling slightly. “I guess this place is just rubbing off on me. I got so tired of being mad, I just couldn’t bring myself to fight you anymore. I would rather just forgive you and move on.”
“B-But—” Lucifer cut himself off, tears brimming in his eyes. He deserved to be hated, he was the most hated being in existence. It simply wasn’t fair, he hated that you forgave him before he forgave himself. He couldn’t forgive himself. He would never be able to.
His eyes widened as he felt your hand on his cheek, wiping away the tears that he hadn’t realized escaped. He looked up to you in shock, trying to understand what was going through your head, why you were doing the things you did, the things that made him miss you even more.
“If you wanted to, we could move on together. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust you again, but I trust Charlie, and I know she won’t let me get hurt here,” You chuckled softly, looking over at Charlie with a smile, before turning your attention back to Lucifer as you stepped closer to him. “You’ve raised a wonderful person, Lucifer. She’s the entire reason why I can forgive you. She’s the reason why I want to move on with you.”
Lucifer stared up into your angelic eyes, his body shaking as tears streamed down his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, crashing into your arms as he held you like his life depended on it. “More than anything,”
He looked up to you, his eyes glimmering in the lights of the hotel, his lips pulling into a soft smile. “I’d love it more than anything.”
You giggled, grabbing hold of his hands, pulling him to a slow dance. Lucifer was practically beaming at you now, his tears streaming freely down his face as he chuckled, following along.
Charlie couldn’t help the smile that graced her face, watching the scene before her unfold as she continued to sing, wiping away the tears that had fallen from her eyes as well. “I know you both need it, I know you both need it,”
“Someone who knows what you’re going through,”
Your laughter filled the room as Lucifer spun you around, the sound making his heart flutter. A chuckle escaped his lips, before he too was laughing, getting lost in the sounds of your joy. A sound he’d missed for far longer than he realized.
“You might not believe it, you might not believe it, but you got a lot in common, you really do,”
Your feet slowed to a stop as you looked down into Lucifer’s eyes, your hands moving to cup his cheeks. You leaned in, resting your forehead against his own, strands of your hair tickling his face. You felt him wrap his arms around your neck, his breath fanning your face as he sighed.
“You both love me, and I love both of you...”
“You have no idea how much I missed this,” Lucifer said, looking into your bright blue eyes. You smiled, moving to pull him into a hug.
“You have no idea how much I missed you,” You muttered against his shoulder, basking in his presence. Perhaps this was the happy ending you had waited so long to get. It wasn’t perfect, but nothing was. Not even angels were perfect, as you had found out. But now, you wouldn’t have things any other way. Because now, you were finally happy. You could start anew, with the new friends you’ve made, with Lucifer. You were finally ready to let him back in.
“You both love me, and I love both of you...”
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
@christineblood, @jellyedkazoo, @sirenetheblogger, @charliesicedcoffee
#charlie morningstar#hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer morningstar#lucifer#Spotify
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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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