#anti black coat | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

artirific234-blog · 10 months

Text

Ideas for Kingdom Hearts x Disney Chills stories

(warning: very BEEG and tall wall of text and spoilers)

... I kinda once got some weird ideas about some stories of the Disney Chills storybooks with something that could be considered as well strange too, and that is: Kingdom Hearts.

Now, you may be wondering: What’s sort of thingus have you drank to think of a weird idea like that?! or, what the heck is Disney Chills or Kingdom Hearts?!

And to that i tell you: i did not drank anything except water and milk, and cola... and orange juice, i just thought of the idea because it’s cool and i kinda wanna see it, but before speaking of how, i will tell what exactly both series are about:

Disney Chills is a series of 6 books (7 in the making) made by Vera Strange that mixes the scary spooky storytelling from the Goosebumps series and the classic villainy of Disney’s Animated Villains. The stories are about a random kid (often a middle schooler) being down in the dumps for something that they lack or because they’re ostracized due to having any quirk. Then comes the Disney Villains to help them at the expense of turning their lifes for the worse in the long run, and then the villains wins at the end while the kiddos suffer the consequences for what they did, too bad~!

Kingdom Hearts is a series of videogames made by Tetsuja Nomura, who at first just started as one boy named Sora and his friends Riku and Kairi getting separated from their homeworld Destiny Islands and then Sora masters the keyblade to seek and find his friends from the claws of the Heartless and the Disney Villains who controls them (but there’s a bigger evil than they don’t know about) then became more confusing adding Nobodies, Time Travel, Replicas, and even bigger bad, a keyblade wars and various VARIOUS games that made from going from game 1-2-3 to UX-ML-DR-BBS-0.2-1-CoM-358/2D-2-RC-DDD-3-4. Aka there’s a lot of story spread over multiple games.

Soo, now that you (kinda?) know what those series are about what sort of weird ideas i kinda got into making, since these are too big (even for me) but still, i’m just gonna say what sort of ideas i thought and what sort of villains from the series would fit the best for them, and soo... Let’s dive into the Darkness.

Ansem, Seeker of Darkness:

The very first antagonist from the Kingdom Hearts series. Ansem was created after getting Terra-Xehanort’s heart out when he unlocked it with his keyblade, he then went to the past to help Young Xehanort to go towards his dark road and stayed in there, eventually manipulating Riku into joining the darkness and then eventually taking over his body to become “whole”. He also has a heartless bodyguard that is actually Terra’s Heart. He was eventually defeated by Sora, but still manage to return thanks to Riku’s darkness and eventually Xehanort’s Time Traveling shenanigans.

In a way, a story featuring Ansem would be kinda interesting persay; since the ideas about these sort of stories are about choices or wanting to get something "physical", i imagine that the kingdom hearts-related stories would be more about ourselves as people and how we threat each's others, as well understanding our emotions too. Ansem's Story would be about the Darkness in our hearts due to our own physical and emotional struggles, as well on how we affects others without not noticing at all.

In this story, we would get a protagonist that feels preety weak and sad because of how much he gets bullied, so one night, he find at some place, he finds Ansem and then he helps him to get strong, by calling to the darkness inside it’s heart and then our protagonist gets courage to be strong, so next mornign, he puts a bully on it’s place, and everything goes, but also, he felt something, like he somehow felt that there were less and less people around the school, and that there were reports of some “shadowy” beings roaming around the streets (these being being pureblood heartless like shadows, neoshadows, possesors, dark balls and dark servants), and then, he finds out that the more he looks at his reflection, he sees himself less and less of a human, and more like a dark silhoutte of what he is. (based on Antisora). So, he decides confront Ansem before things spiral out of control (but sadly, thing spiralled out of control, so now he has to run through a darkness-ized city full of heartless to follow and stop Ansem once and for all.

(bonus points if the protagonist in a way is like Riku but different, and that a sora and kairi-look a likes would be important for the story too.)

(Alternatively, Ansem’s story could also be about Dabbling in the dark arts, like how Dr. Facilier did, albeit, with a few differences since Facilier's Story was about being at the shadow of someone else though. in this idea, it would be that an occultist based character got the help of a “Master of Darkness” that managed to summon the heartless (just some shadows) to prove that the occult itself is real and then get more members for it’s club or what not, only to realise that it might had condeem the entire city to the darkness....)

I kinda thought that the final battle would be on a toy shop, and that the heartless would ended up posessing some toys that would be weirdly-reminesent from the emblem heartless from the game (mostly first and second and maybe third game too) and the near-final obstacle would be Ansem summoning a version of the Phantom Heartless as a “puppet” before being faced at the rooftops. in the end, Ansem would tell that he still has potential in his heart for a greatness and stuff, our protagonist doesn’t believe it but then, a heartless attack one (or two) of his friends, he then succumbs to the darkness and ask Ansem to help them, and Ansem replies, by “returning” our protagonist’s friends’ hearts back, but taking his own.

The idea i thought that at the end (of theses two ideas), our protagonist would then be turned into the Dark Guardian by Ansem (using it’s heartless magic), thanks to the inmerse hatred and darkness it had during the story condeming it to be Ansem’s personal servant and fighter, collecting more darkness for his master to use.

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

Xemnas

Xemnas is the main antagonist of Kingdom Hearts II, being the leader of organization XIII and the leader of the nobodies, he was born after terra-xehanort unlocked his heart, leaving him to be his nobody. He then created the organization for his nefarious needs.

Xemnas's Story would be more about the opposite of what most of the stories you made are: Popularity, while in most of the disney chills stories are about any characters trying to be popular and outshine anyone else (Part of your Nightmare and Fiends on the Other Side comes to mind), in this story the protagonist would already start as a popular person, but it would get tired of it and wanted to live a simple life (probably thanks to peer preasure and other stuff like toxic fanbases and stuff too, in a way, it would be like a “kid-friendly” version of Oshi no Ko, and how popularity (As well the internet) can be like a double-edge sword., that's went it's meets Xemnas, and stuff goes on.

I’m not sure exactly how the plot afterwards would it be but i imagine it having to be similar to Fiends on the Other Side and our protagonist at first embraces the fact he’s no longer picked up but then more and more people start to forget him and he doesn’t know what to do. I also thought of an idea that it would get a bittersweet ending that after the protagonist get’s forgotten by almost everyone, Xemnas comes and then gives him a “second” life with him, afterall, he also found other kids that were forgotten too so he brought then to be part of a “family” (in a way, it would be related to Organization XIII) and that our protagonist was number xii.

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

Master Xehanort

Master Xehanort is the antagonist of Kingdom Hearts Birth by Sleep, 3 and Dream Drop Distance, as well the overarching antagonist of the series as a whole. he wants to redo the keyblade war to get the X-Blade and unlock Kingdom Hearts, he summoned Vanitas as a copy of Ventus, he manipulated Terra to give into the darkness and took over his body turning it into Terra-Xehanort, and he sent Aqua to the realm of darkness as terra-nort. He also sent himself from the past to get to follow it’s dark road and help his future self to gather the new 13 darknesses to fight agaisnt the guardians of light.

Master Xehanort's Story would be a bit more... "tricky" (since he’s a chessmaster sort of villain sitting in the shadows while everyone else is doing their thing and help him without knowing about it), but since his motives rely on more manipulation from the shadows, he would kinda use the protagonist to help it be the best, only to end up as "the best" as Xehanort himself (Kinda mirroring what happened to Terra in BBS.) yeah, i know it’s simple but it’s kinda what i got.

(in a way, i thought that by the end of... whatver happened, Xehanort would do the same thing that Ansem did a few characters above, but instead of using it as a heartless, he would use it as a way to get a physical body since he’s technically not a live/he’s a “ghost” of somekind, and after getting to posses it, we get a time skip of Xehanort now using the protagonist’s body as it’s own, ready to relieve a second life to path it’s path to sucess and darkness.)

(in a way, when our protagonist meets Xehanort, he would see it as a cloaked figure that needed help and then, after telling about what happened, he helps the protagonist to become better at the expense of being a pawn for something the protagonist doesn’t know about until the end. his cloaked appearance would look like Ansem’s Cloaked form when he met riku and sora on destiny island, while his possesion of the portagonist at the end would make him look like the protagonst but with white hair and yellow eyes, barley looking like Young Xehanort.)

(I have a feeling that the cloaked figure would fit better with ansem on the occult-based story but changes can happen down the line, i think?)

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

The Heartless/Anti Black Coat/Dopperganger.

... Basically, an original idea, now you may be wondering: but why? well... why not? Plus, the Heartless as a whole could be an intereting as they being born from the darkness inside of out heart. In a way, what’s interesting is that they could also be the first villain our protagonist doesn’t know about, but everyone else kinda manages to see it as it’s follow the protagonist’s shadow whetver it’s goes, and then use their inscurities to power themselves more and more to become like the protagonist.

In a way it would first start out as a normal shadow at the ground (both psylosofically and literally, like the kh enemy), then it would evolve into the Neoshadow, and Finally it's become like afusion of the Anti-Black Coat and Shadow Roxas, who, went reveal it's hood out, it's turn like the dark version of our main protagonist, but all black, and after the protagonist falls to his darkness, it’s posses the protagonist to become 1, as well the main personality, erasing the original’s as a whole as he slips into the darkness, to no longer cause any problems at all...

(in a way, if there’s a final battle, i imagine the Shadow Dopperganger cummonig some sort of silhoutte barely reminesnce of the Darkside, or getting it’s hair spiked up and wavy like the darkside too.)

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

Ho boy, this ended up being far more longer than i anticipated, but yeah, what do you think of my ideas? are they good or way to far out to be considered anything at all? i may post another idea soon-ish though, but still, i have a feeling i wouldn’t work to deep since i have other projects doing on my own, but i would like to see your own ideas on these ideas i had and see what you can do about them, even if it is the covers for books or which sort of protagonsit deisgn, age, gender and maybe even nacionality could be good too, until then, if you have read up to this end, i’m happy you got time to listen to me. it’s makes me happy.

#kingdom hearts #master xehanort #ansem seeker of darkness #ansem sod #dark figure #xemnas #heartless #shadow #anti black coat nightmare #disney chills #extreme crazy ideas i have in my mind #shadow roxas

2 notes · View notes

cinnabeat · 1 year

Text

i love how riku like. instinctively knew he was soras dream eater

#im assuming anyways i got to the anti black coat fight rn #love how they showed the fucking dream eater symbols and i still didnt get it lmao #michi tag

3 notes · View notes

tyranthand · 1 month

Text

tags!

[ GORTASH'S ANTI-ANXIETY COAT. ] > ooc. [ ALL OUT OF BLESSINGS. ] > ooc answers. [ GAMES. ] > memes. [ ANNOTATIONS. ] > headcanon. [ LOOT. ] > saved. [ PROPAGANDA. ] > promo.

[ FLESH AND METAL. ] > musings. [ THE BLACK HAND OF BANE. ] > self. [ SOUND OF MACHINERY. ] > music. [ I AM THE WILLING VICTIM OF A CANNIBAL. ] bloodbaptized. [ A CORONATION. ] > answers.

[ VERSE: A SHATTERED CROWN. ] > bg3. [ VERSE: AND EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE WILL DIE SOON. ] > pre bg3. [ VERSE: WHERE I END AND YOU BEGIN. ] [ VERSE: FRESH OUTTA HELL. ] > youth. [ VERSE: TOO SMART FOR HIS AGE. ] > childhood. [ VERSE: THE MECHANICAL EYE. ] > tma.

#[ I AM THE WILLING VICTIM OF A CANNIBAL. ] > bloodbaptized.#[ GORTASH'S ANTI-ANXIETY COAT. ] > ooc.#[ ALL OUT OF BLESSINGS. ] > ooc answers.#[ GAMES. ] > memes.#[ ANNOTATIONS. ] > headcanon.#[ PROPAGANDA. ] > promo.#[ FLESH AND METAL. ] > musings.#[ THE BLACK HAND OF BANE. ] > self.#[ SOUND OF MACHINERY. ] > music.#[ LOOT. ] > saved.#[ VERSE: A SHATTERED CROWN. ] > bg3.#[ VERSE: AND EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE WILL DIE SOON. ] > pre bg3.#[ VERSE: FRESH OUTTA HELL. ] > youth.#[ VERSE: TOO SMART FOR HIS AGE. ] > childhood.#[ VERSE: THE MECHANICAL EYE. ] > tma.#[ A CORONATION. ] > answers.#[ VERSE: WHERE I END AND YOU BEGIN. ]

0 notes

sttoru · 8 months

Text

⟣ note. based on this panel of the veil manga :3 loved it sm i had to make a small fic out w/ toji && yes this is also ur sign to go read veil :>

⟣ tags. toji fushiguro + female reader. fluff. implied age gap (reader 20-ish, toji 30) ig..?, size difference. toji’s smoking. toji calls reader ‘little girl, kid, brat’ and is a big meanie. i’ve personally written it to be platonic but can also be read as romantic = completely up to you.

the night was a cold one; most citizens had escaped inside, searching for shelter in their houses due to the freezing temperatures and windy weather. therefore, the normally bustling streets had now transformed completely empty and quiet.

“fuckin’ hell.”

well—‘almost’ completely empty and quiet.

“what’s wrong?” you ask toji, who was standing beside you near a fence, looking down at the beautiful scenery the city lights created. you had begged him to meet up in this cold weather solely because you couldn’t sleep.

toji (reluctantly) agreed even though he was warm and cozy underneath his blankets the moment you called. he put on a random coat and went out to accompany you on your little stroll. you knew he wouldn’t do that for anyone else, though you don’t tease him about that fact; he’d probably turn around and go right back to his apartment out of spite.

“can’t light my cig up because of the damn wind.” the older man clicks his tongue, creating a small ‘tsk’ sound. he used his hand to try and block the cold breeze from blowing out the small fire from his lighter, but to no avail.

“poor you, having to deal with an anti-smoking wind.” your witty comment gains a huff and a gentle kick to the butt from toji.

“ha-ha. real funny, kid.”

you lean against the railing, hands cupping your own cheeks as you prop your elbows against the surface. the wind was strong and made you shiver just a tad bit, but the moment was still enjoyable. the distant sounds of the cars speeding across the roads, your coats rustling, the heels of your feet tapping against concrete and… the sounds of a man struggling and cursing next to you.

“still no luck?” you tease with a shit-eating grin whilst turning your face to the side, gazing at toji whose cigarette was still defeatedly dangling from between his lips.

“nah, none.” he scoffs and seemed on the verge of giving up when you clear your throat in an overly confident manner. you stepped closer to him—the faint smell of both alcohol and tobacco instantly filling your nostrils—and undid the two upper buttons of your coat.

toji’s eyes flicker from his lighter to you and he raises an eyebrow at your sudden interference. the look in your eyes seemed to hint at mischief, yet they also glimmered with pride at what you were about to do.

“c’mere.” you gesture for the older man to lower his head, hands parting your coat to both sides of your body, forming a protective shield from any winds. you stood on your tiptoes so toji could light his cigarette in the self-made cover.

toji chuckles at this; “pretty smart, ain’t ya?” he bends his head down, his hands carefully holding onto both your elbows, lifting you a bit higher up on your tiptoes so that he could reach you. toji then lowers his head a bit more until it was fully engulfed by your coat. the warmth radiating from your body almost makes him forget what he was supposed to do.

his thumb rolls against the sparkwheel, the little flame now being more stable as you try your best to keep steady on the tips of your shoes—eyes looking down at the top of toji’s head. his black hair was tickling your chin and you held yourself back from giggling, since it’d probably mess up the cover if you do.

after a second or two, toji finally gets his cigarette to burn up. he lingers there between the warmth of your coat for more than needed, but eventually pulls away and straightens his back—once again towering over your short figure.

toji stays silent as another strong gust of wind almost makes you fall back. your hair gets in your eyes and blocks most of your vision, making it unable to see if your trick helped him like intended.

“did it work?” you ask, voice slightly raised in case toji couldn’t hear you over the loud wind. there was no answer, but you could spot him holding the cigarette up to his lips, the small stick of nicotine resting between his index and middle finger.

seeing you helplessly try to wipe the locks of hair from your face was quite amusing to the man. he didn’t bother helping you like you did to him a moment ago.

besides, you’d survive without his aid—he’s just going to enjoy the view of your adorable self struggling against the wind.

toji moves closer to you after a couple seconds of just grinning at your useless fight against the weather. his free hand pushes your hair to the side, rough fingers gliding across the skin above your eyebrow and eventually coming to rest behind your ears—having tucked the loose strands away.

your obstructed view dissolves and is replaced by a sight you’ve seen many times before: toji, giving you that devilish smirk of his, the one he shows you before he does something to either tease or piss you off.

“guess it did work.” you hum as your eyes focus on the lit up cigarette. you felt proud of yourself for helping toji with that simple task and that lightly cocky expression somehow made you look even cuter to the assassin.

he really just wanted to squeeze and pinch your cheeks as hard as he could. was that called cuteness aggression?

toji takes a long drag of his cigarette before unexpectedly blowing the smoke out in your face, causing you to cough and pinch your nose, “hey! is that how you thank your saviour?”

your answer was a small snicker. toji averted his gaze from you to the city beneath your feet as you stood on a hill. he was having fun accompanying you on your late night stroll. it wasn’t every day that he got to relax like this—plus, you were the only one in his social circle who’d voluntarily hang out with him. others would solely meet up for business matters.

once you calmed down a bit, coughed the smoke out of your throat and fanned any remaining particles away from your face, you mumbled something among the lines of ‘never helping him out again’. the assassin shakes his head at your light-hearted complaints, your pouty expression only fuelling him to tease you some more.

“whadd’ya say there, little girl?” toji raises an eyebrow, one hand coming up to lightly grab your ear and tug at it, your body stumbling back towards his. you yelp and wrap your fingers around toji’s wrist—trying to release yourself from his grasp.

“ouch! let go!” a swat to his forearm did nothing; his bulky physique was easily overpowering you. your tugging and pulling was nothing but child’s play to him.

your lips formed an ever bigger pout, eyes narrowing at him as you tried to give him your meanest death glare. toji was satisfied once he got the reaction he wanted and let go of your ear, but not before rubbing the tingling area gently with his thumb and index finger—soothing the faint pain in his own way.

“seriously, toji?” you roll your eyes and give him one last smack against his bicep. you lean back against the fence and glance down at the streets, feigning your anger at him for teasing you twice in a row.

“you mad?” toji takes another long pull from his cigarette before blowing the smoke out the other way. he turns around and leans his back against the railing, granting himself the perfect opportunity to look down at your face which you tried to hide away;

“am not.”

“yeah you are.”

“am not!”

“…whatever you say, brat.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #toji x you #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #toji fluff

1K notes · View notes

lazyjellyfish300 · 1 month

Text

In Between the Bookshelves📚

AU Librarian!Miguel O'Hara x Fem grad student reader

(image isn't mine, found it on Instagram under the account @/ brokenohara and asked for their permission to post it)

Synopsis: a normal trip to the library results in a little bit more than you were expecting when you meet the new librarian on duty. Word count 4.6k

A/N: reposting this new and hopefully improved version of one of my very first Miguel fics I deleted a while back. I tried to make him more awkward and cute🖤🤓. Still not totally confident in the smut but oh well. Writing smut is so hard sometimes? Or maybe my skills have gone down, idk 😫 Hope you enjoy...

TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT TOWARDS THE END: FINGERING, ORAL SEX F receiving, Gag(he uses his shirt to muffle your moans) Public sexual activity, talk of anxiety, mention of family troubles and anti-deity/religion language

It's 7:00 pm on a rainy Tuesday night in the middle of October. You just got out of your evening Database Systems class. You can't help but feel poetic as you stroll down the grey, soaked, Manhattan streets twirling your umbrella, hot coffee in a cardboard cup in hand. Your shoulders begin to ache from the thin faux leather straps of your backpack. You're wearing your favorite brown sweater over a short sleeved black dress that hits you mid-thigh, with some holey black tights and your favorite knock-off Doc Martens. Damn, I still need to write that 2 page paper that's due tomorrow..

You decide at the last minute to spend your night at the library. You know you won't get anything done if you go back to your apartment. You spin on your heel and pick up the pace as you head hastily towards the NYIT library in Manhattan.

The library is pretty dead except for a group of three people sitting together in the middle table talking in hushed voices, one woman sitting on the floor scrolling with a laptop, and one jock looking fellow sitting at the computers, cracking his knuckles and bouncing his knee anxiously as he scans his assignment he's typing.

You sit down at the empty table right next to the librarian's desk. Since you're a regular here you recognize Polly, the librarian on duty who is a plump woman who looks to be in her 30s with short curly brown hair, wearing a mustard yellow cardigan and brown corduroy pants tonight. She's stapling papers together and gives you a small nod in acknowledgement as you sit down at the table in front of her desk.

She whispers to you, "I'm actually heading out for the evening, but the new person on duty should be here any minute now if you need any assistance."

You nod, and, speak of the devil, here he comes. You suddenly feel your chest get hot when you lay your eyes on the new librarian.

Tall, dark, and handsome would be the simplest way to define this man's appearance, but that would be a very feeble attempt at doing him justice. Sculpted bicep muscles push against the sleeves of his flannel with the cuffs rolled up halfway on his thick forearms. The flannel is unbuttoned and flaps gently away from his body as he walks, a white t-shirt underneath. He has broad, wide, shoulders and a narrow waist. He's also wearing dark wash athletic jeans and a pair of canvas slip ons. His hair has one stubborn strand in front from his small widow's peak that falls endearingly in the middle of his forehead. His most disarming quality is his eyes. A shade of brown that's earthy and natural like the sediment that decorates stream beds. He wears a stoic expression under large framed glasses.

He nods and mutters a "thank you" to the woman librarian as she shimmies into her coat and leaves. His eyes notice you and latch onto you momentarily. You feel your cheeks grow warm and you turn back to your laptop, unable to resume where you left off, wanting to start a conversation with him but not sure how. After a few painful moments of silence, and a quiet rumble outside from the ongoing rainstorm, you decide to break the ice by telling him your name. He blinks as you tell it to him, and you continue trying to make small talk to try and prod more out of him.

"Have I seen you here before? I come here a lot and I don't think I've met you yet."

"Miguel O'Hara," he answers shortly, but politely. "I'm a grad student. I started working for the university in exchange for assistance with my tuition."

You nod, feeling the heat leave your cheeks a little bit as you realize you could have a normal conversation with this man, and not just be an awkward mess around him the entire time. When he mentions he's a student, you realize you have something in common with him and try to go from there.

"These mid-terms are going to be the death of me. I have just one more paper to turn in then I can finally breathe, thank God..."

Miguel blows a short puff of air out of his nose seemingly in agreement, but doesn't say anything else.

He's quiet. Truth is you are too, and you're stepping way more out of your comfort zone than you normally would. Amazing what a pair of charming brown eyes could do to you.

"Honestly, if I had to work anywhere on campus I'd pick the library too. Seems peaceful with minimal people around, and everyone's required to be quiet by default. The ultimate dream workplace."

Miguel can't figure out why this stranger keeps talking to him, but you brought up a point he feels he needs to clarify.

"Oh, you'd be surprised. Most people that come in here are loud and inconsiderate as hell. And there's always that one person who hasn't heard of shocking headphones. Always."

The corner of your mouth raises. "God, that would drive me insane. Being a librarian isn't all it's cracked up to be, huh?"

Miguel shakes his head. "No. More like a glorified adult babysitter who knows where the historical fiction section and restrooms are located, and that's about it. That's literally the only two questions I get asked all day." He turns to look at you more fully, this conversation a slight breath of fresh air, the first chance he's gotten in a while to air out his grievances as the night librarian.

He continues, complaining about the horny couples he's had the misfortune of overhearing get busy on the beanbags in the far corner, and the people who leave random drinks and empty chips bags on the shelves and seem to have forgotten what alphabetical order means when they put books back.

You listen to all of it, nodding your head, and let out a cackle at his expressions he's making with those defined, bushy brows of his. He talks with his hands and it's a little endearing to watch him be so animated. This expressive side you've managed to crack through beneath his solemn exterior.

Miguel feels warmth rise in his body at the sound of your laugh for the first time. It's genuine and hearty, and honestly it's funnier than whatever bad quip he just made and he can't help but feel a little more attracted to you after hearing it. You were a good listener, and he appreciated that a lot about you.

You glance at the windows across the room, nodding in its direction with a remark about the weather, how rainstorms are your favorite. He tells you he loves them as well.

Soon, the others have shifted out of the library and he's now sitting in the chair across from you leaning his chin in his hand, listening to you speak as the rain gently pelts the windows outside.

He finds out you're originally from a smaller town, and you came to New York City for college and to escape your overbearing parents. You're 26 years old and trying to finish this Master's degree after taking one too many semesters off. You tell him about your mom who's a bit of a pushover, and your dad who's kind of an asshole.

He tells you he's 29 and has a younger brother who lives on the other side of the city, and his mom is similar to yours. She's kind but tends to set herself on fire to keep her kids warm. Like you, his dad is also a bit of an ass.

You're both introverted, but you can fake it when you need to, which he appreciates, otherwise he never would have been brave enough to say something to you this evening.

You two share a love of education and coffee. You discuss religion.

"I just don't get it, I'm supposed to love this guy and accept Him into my heart because He died for my sins even though I didn't ask Him to do that? But yet if I break any of His rules I get sent to the Inferno for all of eternity?"

"Sounds like a toxic relationship." Miguel quips as he spins your nearly empty coffee cup across the table absentmindedly.

"Exactly!"

You two talk about love as he shuffled some stray books back to their rightful place.

"C'mon, I know you've had to have dated at least once."

Miguel shakes his head. "Well, I did date a girl in high school. Knew her since the 7th grade. But she pretty much ripped my heart out when I saw her making out with one of my buddies on graduation night. I've had a couple dates here and there since then but that's it."

You click your pen. "Damn, so we both have exes from hell that we dated in high school?"

Miguel nods his head. "It would appear we do. I'm sorry you know the pain and annoyance of adolescent heartbreak too."

You shrug your shoulders. "It happens, y'know? It's like one of those things in life you're just meant to experience. It's like, unavoidable you know? And there's nothing you can do about it. What would you call that? Like not a trope per se, but almost like.... destiny?"

Miguel shrugs in return, "Like a canon event?"

You raise your eyebrows. "Yeah... exactly. How'd you come up with that?"

The ghost of a smirk appears on his face, "Just made sense to me, I guess."

You two sit at the table again and he asks about your childhood and you explain that you suffered from anxiety as long as you can remember and he looks at you with sympathetic eyes.

You do your best to try and ignore what feels like his knee pressing against your calf under the table. The thought of touching him sends heat waves through your body, but you remain frozen in place to send the message you're not opposed to more contact. Miguel feels it too, and deep down his leg is falling asleep with the way it's positioned but he's too nervous to move, either.

You both love the nighttime over mornings, and you show him one of your favorite playlists. He smiles at you tenderly as he holds one of the earphones to his ear.

Soon, it's 10:30 pm and he needs to do his closing duties. Luckily, there weren't any patrons who needed his assistance during his whole shift, proving his point earlier. Before he excuses himself, you two sit in silence for the longest time, both trying to gauge if now's the time to say goodbye to one another, but neither of you wanting to actually be the one who does.

Not sure if it was the absence of any light outside, the late hour, the good conversation you two shared, or a combination of all three, but the ripple of attraction you harbored for him has now washed over you completely and morphed into a formidable wave, threatening to take over your whole body, the darkness of this library and persistence of the ongoing storm outside pushing you closer to him.

He's staring at the corner of your laptop, similar feelings ebbing through him, not sure what's got into him. The art of flirting turned itself into uncharted territory for him a longggg time ago.

He finally decided to look at you but you're already looking at him and he snaps his gaze back down onto the bare table below him, silently cursing in his head as a shade of red fluster rises in his cheeks.

You realize you're going to have to be the one to be brave this time again. "Well, this has been fun...."

Miguel scoffs, starting to bounce his leg under the table. "You say that in the most sarcastic tone known to man."

You return with a scoff of your own, adding a smile, "Well I mean, technically you were working this whole time, isn't that boring?"

Miguel shrugs, the heat in his face returning. "You made it more fun..." The volume in his voice decreasing to a murmur.

You look down as well, your heart fluttering in your chest. You really wanted to kiss him. Or just be closer to him, you don't know why. Of course he was cute as hell but after talking to him for hours, there was no denying a spark had formed. You just didn't know whether one or both of you would make the first move to actually do something about it.

Miguel can't believe that he's actually going to try and attempt to ask you to stay longer with him, but he's going to. Just to hang out some more, maybe keep up that amazing conversation you two were sharing just before this. Completely innocent.

Well, if the way the glow from the desk lamp keeps on making your face look so warm and alluring, he's not sure he'll have the strength to shut down any escapades that ensue later, as long as you're completely up for it, of course.

He inhales "Um...so not sure if you have things to do later or..."

You look at him, pupils widening with anticipation at his pending question.

He goes to say, "I was wondering if you wanted to keep hanging out," but it gets combined with the phrase, "Do you want to stay here a little longer," and the word jumbo that exits his mouth is a little incoherent.

"Was wondering if you were wondering to stay and keep hanging longer out?"

You blink rapidly at his blunder, and he groans, placing his face in his hands.

You immediately feel bad for him, shaking your head and sliding a hesitant hand towards his arm. You stumble over your words too sometimes and it's always fucking humiliating when it happens, so you feel no judgement towards him whatsoever. If anything now he's even more attractive. Every little cute thing about him is just pushing you towards him closer than ever before.

Your fingertips skim across the top of the table and press gently into his forearm. He slowly rolls his head to look at you, his cheek resting in his arms as his eyes look at you from behind his glasses which are slightly askew from the way his face is positioned.

His face is still red, but his heart flutters at your sweet smile. "Sorry, my brain just...takes a dump on me when I try to be smooth sometimes..." Miguel mumbles with a weak chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

You shake your head. "I do the same thing...but to answer your question....yes please..." Your voice becomes quieter at the word "please", an trickle of lust you added on purpose, hoping he's picking up on the vibe you're putting down with the way you're gazing into his eyes, your fingers pressed against his arm, the subtle scoot closer you just made with your chair.

Miguel releases a shaky breath, oh, he's paying attention alright. Damn it all if he doesn't take the leap right now. He decides to ask one more time to be sure, slowing down so he gets it right this time.

"Will....you stay longer, with me?" his voice is low, almost a whisper even though it's only the two of you in his dark library, but it's dripping with seduction. A low rumble from the rain clouds interrupts the pause between his question and your answer.

"Yeah..." you say softly back with double affirmation, a sneaky smile forming on your lips. He flashes a dazzling smile back at you, a woozy feeling in his stomach for what's about to happen in the next few minutes.

He excuses himself and goes back to his desk, typing on his computer, the excitement of having you alone making him just type nonsense for the first few moments, wheeling away some carts to the back and stowing a stray book back where it belongs.

It's now 11 pm. Closing time. Miguel turns off all the lights except for his small desk lamp. The clouds are still rolling and rumbling outside with the wind whistling against the windows. Raindrops are still decorating the street. It's a beautifully dark, sensual scene just for the two of you.

He laces his fingers in between yours and leads you to a dark space in between two large bookshelves. His hand is clammy, and he's a little embarrassed about it on the inside but you squeeze it reassuringly. There was literally nothing he could do at this point to make your crush on him go away. The shelves tower over both of you, even Miguel, who's 6 foot 9.

He leans a hand against the shelf just above and to the right of your head. He accidentally pins a piece of your hair under his hand, making you wince a tiny bit.

"Augh.."

Miguel's eyes dart in alarm to search for what he did that caused you pain and he realizes your hair is trapped under his hand. He pulls it away, shaking his hand and flicking his fingers in an effort to free any of your strands from it. "Goddamit...."

He rolls his head backwards in exasperation at his epic failure of having zero game tonight. You hold onto the flaps of his flannel, making him look at you. "Hey, hey come on...it's okay...."

He finally looks down at you and his lips fall open at your beauty, his heart rate speeding up much more quickly now, and he brings a shaky hand to your face. In his mind, he can't help but realize he's being a huge hypocrite, committing the same sins as his horny patrons of getting busy in the library. But seriously though, at least he had the decency to make sure it was after closing when he was off the clock.

You feel your knees go weak as he brings his other hand to your face, pulling down your bottom lip with his thumb. He wets his lips and he leans in pressing his tongue gently in the space he opened in your bottom lip, begging to be let in. You oblige immediately, diving forward into his soft lips, goosebumps appearing on your arms.

Oh fuck....this kiss felt good. He forgot how nice it felt to share intimacy with someone, those feelings that laid dormant for so long rising and nearly bubbling past the surface. It's all coming back to him as he just wills himself to get lost in the warmth of your mouth, the sheer layer of your Chapstick leaving a tasty feeling on his tongue.

You considered yourself decently experienced, but the way his lips move on their own show you he's a force to be reckoned with and you'd be more than happy to sit back and let him handle things...this handsome, geeky, sweet librarian...

The noises you two make as you desperately kiss each other are little shuffles as you bump into the shelf behind you, with an occasional "oh fuck...," from Miguel. Hearing how turned on he's getting causes you to let your first moan escape your lips.

Once he hears it, he needs more. His hands make their way to your ass and hoist you up onto an empty bookshelf ladder and he sets you down on one of the rungs. You grab his shirt in your fists, not tearing your lips away from his.

"Do you care about these?" Miguel says softly, out of breath, his mind running a million miles a minute before his actions can catch up to him, gently pinching the thin material of your tights between his thumb and pointer finger as his palms grip the soft flesh of your outer thighs. You shake your head no, wanting to fuck already.

Then, his hand is in your crotch, ripping a whole right in the middle, tearing away at the fabric concealing your ripe pussy away from him as though it's the cover of a brand new novel. His cold pointer finger hooks behind your panties and pulls it to the side. You gasp loudly as you feel his finger and the cold air hit your soaked heat.

He chuckles, his breaths still coming out in rapid, succession, the baritone hum of his voice only adding to the wetness between your legs.

"Sorry, my hands are cold..." Then you can't believe what's happening when he drops to his knees, spreading you open like a book. His elbows pin your knees against the sides of the ladder, the wood pressing painfully into your kneecaps, but the sensation he gives you next makes you forget about the whole thing.

His tongue glosses over your wet pussy like a finger stroking the edge of a page. His nose tickles the tiny hairs sprouting from it as he takes a deep breath in, the smell of you going straight to his cock. He teases the lips of your pussy for a moment, an agonizing back and forth along the slit...

....back....and..... forth

"God....you're so wet..."

Back.....

"Miguel..." you whimper..

and forth...

"Fuck...." your fingers shake as you ball them into a fist...

before his tongue dips into your wet hole. Your back arches on instinct, making your body lurch forward, accidentally pushing his tongue further into you which he welcomes eagerly by gripping low on your ass to hold you in place.

You shudder and twitch violently, throwing your head back at the insanely divine attention he's injecting between your thighs. Miguel pauses for a moment, tenderly licking the inside of your thigh before sealing it with a kiss as his eyes flicker up to you.

"You okay?...." he whispers.

You release a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding, a slightly empty feeling as the mind numbing pleasure was abruptly switched off.

"Yeah, yeah...I'm okay."

Miguel reassumes his position, tongue fucking you. The soft pad of his tongue fondling the plush walls inside you. He lets out a low groan and he feels you turn to putty in his grasp, his head gently bobbing as his tongue completes lap after lap eating you, enjoying you, savoring you....every drop from that pretty pussy soon seeping out of his mouth and dribbling down his chin.

Your moans grow louder than they ever have, plucking him from his pussy-drunk state. He stands up in a panic and rips off his flannel, bunching it up as his eyes do a quick scan to make sure you're both still all alone.

"Shhhh.....baby, we need to be quiet.....bite this for me."

His angelic face comes up to look at you, his forehead pressing tenderly against yours and your eyes go half lidded at the sight of your arousal glistening down his chin, shiny on his thick neck from the thin flickers of moonlight that have managed to leak through the darkened windows of the library.

You do as you're told, biting his flannel and he stuffed it hastily in your mouth, making a makeshift gag as your eyes water. His elbows assume their position pinning your thighs back and he's back between them again.

You understand why he made you a gag as he goes directly for your clit this time. You yelp, your sound muffled by the fabric. Your nails dig into his shoulders, two perfect handles while you ride his face. The material of his shirt is thin and you feel every muscle ripple under your palms as he moves to keep fucking you with his mouth.

Your clit throbs to near overstimulation but Miguel doesn't relent. He swirls his tongue with low sighs of appreciation, unable to tear himself away from the wet heaven in front of his face.

His saliva and your slick mix together until it's all the same. The love you're dripping onto him and the love he's licking into you becoming a lewd stream of passion. He groans into your pussy as his bulging cock begs to relieve itself of all the cum built up with tormenting ache.

He decides he wants to watch you cum. He gets up, replacing his tongue with his thumb and his first two fingers, pumping into you with a circular rhythm and easing your clit at a torturous pace.

"On me, baby...." he whispers.

Your eyes struggle to stay open as you look at him, a little unsure of what he said. "Mmmm?...." You ask with a high pitched sigh.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me..." he repeats, his own eyes going half-lidded from the lure of your mouth hanging open. "Fuck...."

He abandons his plan momentarily as he rips his flannel from your mouth to kiss you again. You invade his mouth with your tongue and he mumbles your name again in response. You start to taste yourself and then whimper when you realize the pleasure is beginning to become too much.

"Miguel," you pant. "Baby, it's so much...." your breaths begin to hyperventilate.

Miguel gives a low sigh when you say his name, his cock straining once more when he realized he drew you to say it. He tilts his head at you, his jaw open and curls into a smile when he sees how crazy he's driving you.

"Cum f'me, baby. Wanna watch you while you do..."

You try to look at a spot on the ceiling but Miguel interrupts your concentration when he moves his head to keep himself in your vision. The spiciness of this sexy encounter banishing all fears he had before. No, he won't let you look at anything else when you cum.

He gives a loud grunt and clasps a hand over your mouth, fingers turning white, muffling your cry of sweet release as you squirt all over his flannel, your passion causing a few books to collapse from the shelf.

You shake and start to shiver all over as the sweat you produced during all the action starts to cool. Your hands are tingly and numb. Miguel gives a soft chuckle and presses a soft kiss into your temple with his wet lips and another one on your mouth before he returns his tongue to your thighs, collecting any remaining arousal left behind.

You rest your head back on the ladder rung behind your head, reeling in your come down. He smiles and plants a kiss into your thigh before bidding it farewell, then comes up and hugs you, nestling you in his tantalizing embrace, as he rests his cheek in your hair.

"Thank you..." you murmur, only barely sobering up from your high, his musk and cologne delivering you to a whole new state of intoxication.

He smiles down at you in response and holds your face in both hands, running his thumbs along your cheeks.

"See me tomorrow?"

You practically melt at those big brown eyes of his, glasses still slightly askew and the neck of his wrinkled shirt dampened with his sweat, silently hoping you will.

You beam up at him and nod enthusiastically and he chuckles and plants a line of kisses on your neck as you giggle underneath him. After a few soft hugs and another round of delicate kisses, he walks you to the door. Making you promise you'll call him as soon as you get home as a reluctant compromise at his uneasiness of you walking alone in the dark.

He watches you walk away into the night and doesn't stop until he sees you safely board the bus. He turns around and goes back inside the library, shutting off his desk light with a small click.

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #spotify #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #Spotify

391 notes · View notes

ereardon · 2 months

Text

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Six

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child?

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Ducky goes to her first doctor's appointment; Bob and Jake fight it out; Jake makes a staggering proposal

WC: 2K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

You caught the bus a few blocks from the library and rode it across town to the doctor’s office. Waited in the front area with all the other women in various stages of pregnancy. Your heart sank as you watched woman after woman file in with a partner at her side or a friend.

You felt utterly alone as they called your name and you stood up alone.

The sonographer pushed off of her stool and smiled. “The doctor will be in soon.”

You nodded, laying back against the paper-coated exam table. When the doctor entered, she smiled softly. “Hi there, I’m Dr. Whitman.” She took a seat on the stool. “Let’s take a look here.” She pulled up the sonogram charts. “Everything looks good. You’re measuring at eight weeks and three days. How do you feel?”

“Nauseous,” you replied. “Tired.”

She smiled. “That’s par for the course, unfortunately. The second trimester gets better for most patients.”

“Thank God.”

The doctor clicked off the screen and folded her hands in her lap. “Y/N,” she said softly. “A core part of a pregnancy is a support system. Are you married?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“Do you have a boyfriend or family to lean on?”

“It’s complicated,” you whispered.

“I understand.” There was something so soothing about her. “But I also know that what many people don’t realize is that a core part of a healthy pregnancy is having people to lean on. Stress is not good for the baby.”

“I barely know the father,” you replied. “And I’ve been staying with my brother. But he’s not happy about all of this.”

The doctor nodded. “No pregnancy is easy to plan for,” she replied. “But keeping your stress levels low is critical, especially during this first trimester. Do you have any friends who can help support you?”

You thought of Phoenix. So far she was the only one who seemed to want to help. You nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good.” The doctor scribbled on a pad. “I’m going to write you a prescription for an anti-nausea medication. Take it once a day for at least a week to see if it helps.” She ripped it off and then handed you the sonogram. “And here’s a photo of your baby.”

You held the black and white photo in both hands, choking on air. For perhaps the first time, it dawned on you.

You were going to be a mother.

***

“Fucking shit, Floyd, what the hell was that?” Jake whipped off his helmet the moment they stepped foot on the tarmac.

Bob grunted and turned to storm away. Phoenix put one hand on his arm and he shrugged her off. She looked at Jake and raised her eyebrows. “Above my pay grade.”

“He’s your back seater, Natasha,” Jake said and Phoenix’s lips pressed into a fine line. Jake only called her by her first name when things were serious.

“He has his own mind,” she hissed back. “I can’t help it that you knocked up his sister.”

Jake’s green eyes went wide with anger. Bradley stepped between them, trying to diffuse the attention. “Alright, hold on. Let’s just take a step back here before we say things we don’t mean.”

“I meant it when I said you only think about yourself,” Phoenix said. Her words landed on Jake with a solid delivery. It had been three years, but their last fight still stung.

Jake shook his head, heading toward the locker room where Bob had disappeared. Behind him, Bradley held both of Phoenix’s arms, keeping her back, his whispers blending into the whirring background noise of jets landing on the tarmac. “Floyd!” Jake’s voice rang out in the empty changing room. He was quiet for a moment before a clang caught his attention, the sound of a locker door slamming. He moved further down the halfway, rounding the corner where Bob stood wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans, a frown laced over his delicate face. “Floyd, listen–”

“I pretty much raised her,” Bob interrupted. Jake frowned, but stayed silent as Bob laced his shoes, refusing to make eye contact. “Our dad left. Our mom worked all the time to put food on the table. So that left taking care of Y/N to me. And I did it, because I loved her. I did it because I wanted what was best for her.” He looked up, blue eyes hollow against sullen skin. “And now you’ve shown up and ruined everything.”

“I didn’t know she was your sister,” Jake said. “And we didn’t mean for her to get pregnant. It just happened.”

“But it happened to her!” Bob shouted and Jake took a step back. There was something unhinged about angry Bob. So different from the wallflower that he had always been. You were the one thing that he cared enough about to pick fights over. “You happened to her. You ruined her fucking life, Hangman.”

“But that’s just it, isn’t it?” Jake said. “It’s her life, Floyd. Not yours. It’s hers. You’re acting like I did this to you as a personal attack.”

“She was just starting to get her footing,” Bob said quietly. “And you took that away from her. You took away her future. Everything she worked so hard for. Everything we both worked so hard for. To get out of Chattanooga. To not end up like the rest of them.”

Jake sighed. “So that’s what this is about, isn’t it,” he said. “It’s not about me. And it’s not even really about Y/N. It’s about you.”

Bob squinted. “What?”

“You’re mad because you think this foils all of your plans, all of your work, everything you did to get the two of you out of that small town life.”

“She deserves better.”

“I agree.” Jake shook his head. “Listen, man, I’m not going anywhere. This might not have been what I expected. Hell, it might not even be what I want. But it’s where we are. I’m not going to leave her alone in all of this.”

“She isn’t alone,” Bob said. “She has me.”

“Does she?”

***

A little girl set a pile of library books on the counter in front of you. She was barely tall enough to reach, her thin arms struggling beneath the weight of the books. “Hi,” she chirped.

You turned and smiled. She had big ears and a wide, uneven grin. “Hi there,” you said, scanning the first book. “Wow, you scored big.”

“I like bugs,” she explained and you slowly noticed every single book was about snakes or bugs. You could feel bile creep up your throat as you nodded.

“That’s nice.”

“Do you like bugs?”

“Not really.”

She frowned. “That’s too bad. Do you like puppies?”

“Yeah, puppies are better.” You finished scanning her books. “Do you need a bag?”

She shook her head. “No, my mommy is over there.” She pointed at a pregnant woman standing next to the door looking at her phone. The little girl cocked her head to the side. “You look like her.”

“Really?” You squinted. The woman by the door was taller, with different hair. “How so?”

“You’re going to be a mommy,” the little girl said. “All mommys look like that.” And then she grabbed her books and jogged off toward the door. You had to practically pick your jaw up from the ground, hands dropping to your barely visible bump. How had she known? Then again, kids were like animals. Sometimes they knew things. You watched the little girl hand the books to her mom, who slid them into a tote bag before grabbing her hand tightly.

Something stirred inside of you. It was too soon to be the baby, realistically you knew that. But somewhere, deep down, you knew it was the baby making their presence known.

“Hi there,” you whispered, one hand over your belly button.

***

It was late. You were asleep on the couch when the door opened. You opened your eyes wide, watching as Jake and Bradley dragged a barely coherent Bob through the door. You stood up, wiping at your eyes. “What the hell?”

“He’s wasted,” Bradley said. “We tried but we couldn’t stop him.”

You put your hands on your hips, turning to Jake. “Did you do this?”

“I’m so tired of everyone blaming me,” he replied.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Bradley cocked his head. “Here, let me take him.” Easily, he slung Bob over one of his shoulders, carrying him straight into the bedroom. You dragged your hand over your face, turning to Jake.

“What’s going on with him?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Jake replied, looking at his feet. “He and I, we uh, we had a fight.”

“About what?”

He lifted his gaze to yours. “You know what.”

“Oh. That.”

Jake nodded as Bradley stepped back into the living room. He looked at you, and then Jake. “I'm going to head out.”

“Thanks for bringing him back.”

“Any time.” Bradley paused by the door. “Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Be patient with him. He’s still processing.” The door shut softly.

“He heard me say that I hate him,” you whispered, moving back onto the couch, curling into a ball. Jake followed, sitting on the other end of the couch, a safe distance away. “Maybe he hates me, too.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Jake replied. “He wouldn’t act like this if he didn’t love you.”

“Then why is he hurting me?” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“Because he’s hurt, too,” Jake said. “And it’s easier to be mad.”

You tipped your head to one side. “That night we met. You had no idea I was Bob’s sister?”

“Fuck no,” Jake replied and you smirked. He shook his head. “You’re gorgeous, but I never would have looked at you, let alone did what we did if I had known.”

“So it wasn’t some ploy to get back at him for whatever the hell you two have beef about?”

“This has become a lot bigger than I ever imagined.”

You sighed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a cool girl you met in a bar and had sex with and never saw again. I’m sorry I’m ruining your whole life.”

“Maybe it’s not so bad,” Jake whispered and you looked up, surprised. “Maybe I needed something to change.”

“So you’re not upset?”

“I’m upset,” Jake clarified. “This isn’t at all what I expected. But it’s done, right?” he asked. “We just have to deal with the consequences.”

“How romantic.”

“Fuck.” He leaned back. “Shit, I, I didn’t mean it like that.”

You shook your head. “It’s OK, it was a joke.”

“But is that what you want?” he said quietly. “Something romantic?”

“No. I don’t know.” You pulled your hair back into a loose bun, fighting for words. “I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know anything.”

“Are you happy here?”

You frowned. “What do you mean here?”

“Staying with Bob.”

“He’s my brother.”

“I know, Y/N.” Jake rolled his eyes. “That’s why we’re in this lovely predicament. I’m asking if you feel safe here.”

“Bob would never hurt me.”

“I think he already has.” Jake’s words stung and you realized for the first time that hurt was much more than just physical. “I was thinking. There’s an apartment across the hall from mine. It’s two bedrooms.”

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” You practically scoffed.

Jake shrugged. “Why not? At least for now. Until he cools down.”

“That’ll only make him angrier.”

“I don’t give a shit about what makes Floyd happy,” Jake said. “I care about what’s best for you.”

“Do you actually?” you pressed. “Or is that just what you think you’re supposed to say and feel and do? Take away all of the outside voices and opinions. What do you, Jake Seresin, want?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then, in the smallest voice you had ever heard, he replied, “To be a good dad. To do the right thing.”

You nodded. “OK. I’ll move in with you.” You looked up into his clear green eyes. For the first time in weeks, you felt hopeful.

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @mandylove1000 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @shanimallina87 @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @yanna-banana @bbyvanessaa @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @joaquinwhorres @boiolay @sometimesanalice @spinning-away @mycobrakai1972 @xomrsalliej4787xo @na-ta-sh-aa

199 notes · View notes

sxtaep · 2 years

Text

ANTI ROMANTIC - PJM

you could come across as the number one hater of the male species, but not when it came to jimin.

pairing — jimin x female reader

genre — fluff, smut

word count — 3.4k+

warnings/tags — friends2lovers, fwb!au, dom!jimin, sub!reader, teasing, reader is an anti-romantic, lots of ranting, reader confesses, making out, swearing, explicit smut, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, exhbitionism, pillow riding, dirty talk, orgasm denial, reader is very put on the spot, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys) crying, creampie +more

a/n: what to do when the nation is in mourning? write jimin smut 💀 rest up queen elizabeth though, i remember when she came to my school and shook my hand after i gave her a bouquet of flowers 😭

You just wrapped up what you could only call the worst blind date known to mankind. The guy was smug and cocky: you could tell he probably had a thing for being better than women, and that right there was an immediate red flag for you.

Now sitting behind the wheel of your car, pure irritation evident on your face, all you could think about was how the fuck you could face Jimin after another failed blind date. That and the fact that you slept with Jimin a couple times but neither of you had the guts to really put a label on yourselves.

It was agreed your relationship with Jimin was strictly ‘no strings attached’, merely using each other as an output to deal with the stress of work. The two of you must’ve been stressed everyday since it seemed that was how often you both went at it.

“I’ve got a blind date tonight,” you tell him, entering his office to bother him as you usually did.

A blind date?

Jimin wasn’t expecting you to start dating people whilst sleeping with him on the down low. Was that how these things worked?

“You’re going on a date? Why?” He looks up from his desk, clearly confused about it since you always preached about how much you hated men and relationships.

You shrug, “I can’t keep sleeping with you for the rest of my life, eventually you’ll fall in love with someone else and want to get married and have kids.”

You weren’t wrong, Jimin did have all this planned for his future, but he never really saw some other girl with him. All these plans were made with the intention of doing them with you.

“Plus, it’s not like we’re together or anything, so I don’t see what’s stopping me.”

“Well…” he didn’t really know what to say. Does he suddenly confess now or never? If this blind date of yours was a success, he’ll never have the chance to tell you how he really felt, but you seemed really excited about it, he shouldn’t ruin that for you.

“I mean, are you sure you wanna go on a blind date? Kind of a big step for someone who hates relationships,” he says, cocking a brow at you sat opposite his desk.

You didn’t seem as concerned as he was, but then again, why did he care so much?

“Do you want me to give you hourly updates or something? Seems a bit much, Park,” you chuckle softly, failing to notice the inner conflict he was having. “Are you worried about me?”

“No, I’m just looking out for you,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes at your silly teasing. In all honesty, it felt like he was being replaced. “Whatever though, don’t come crying to me late at night when the date doesn’t go to plan.”

When you get home, you you contemplate on updating Jimin. A part of you wanted to send him a message but the other didn’t wanna hear him say ‘I told you so’ as he did many times before.

But fuck it.

you: are you at home?

jimin: yeah, why? you coming over? or you wanna meet somewhere else?

you: no, just make sure you’re home

With that final message sent, you change out of your date night clothes, opting for something more comfortable, but once you’re out of your dress, you look down at your bare body in nothing but intricate black lace (yes, you wore a set with the intention of getting laid tonight) and figured you’d keep it on.

For Jimin.

You throw on a long trench coat to cover up, shivering a little once the material is wrapped securely around your naked body. It was a risky game going out like this, but for some reason, you felt obligated to do this.

If he wanted to make you feel bad, you may as well look good whilst he did it.

The very moment you had texted Jimin, he had just come out the shower, clean and fresh. He re-read your message a couple times, trying to figure out why you were coming over all of a sudden. Was the date so great you wanted to gush about it to him? Or did it go so terribly you were about to rant as soon as you stepped in? Or possibly, were you coming over to fuck?

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it and continued about his night, dressing loosely with a pair of sweatpants and no shirt.

Why wear so much if it was gonna come off anyway?

With that thought, three knocks were had at his door, and he had no doubt that it was you.

You were left waiting for a couple seconds, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor continuously until you were met with a very bare Jimin, forcing your incessant tapping to come to a halt and your breath to catch in your throat.

You eyed every inch of him; his perfectly sculpted v-line, the crevices of his abs, the simple, yet impacting ‘never mind’ tattoo adorning his ribs, and finally his face, which was slightly moist due to the droplets of water falling from the ends of his hair.

“Hi..” you say breathlessly, “Can I come in?”

Jimin caught you eyeing him up, but chose not to comment on it. Instead, he moves aside to let you in, “By all means.”

As you step inside, his eyes follow your form taking notice of the unusual outfit you were wearing. Heels with your legs bare, you must’ve been wearing a dress underneath the coat, but he couldn’t be certain, the damn coat was shielding away his curiosity.

“I’m guessing your date didn’t go well,” Jimin chuckles softly, closing the front door and turning to look at you, “Wanna talk about it over a drink?” Though it sounded like an open ended question, he didn’t wait for you to respond, already making his way into the kitchen to pull out two wine glasses.

“Listen…” you start, your voice low, yet loud enough for Jimin to hear. You’re stuck standing by the door, watching, him set the two glasses down on the marble counter. “I.. am a good girl,” you begin, trying not to sound stupid. “In school, I always followed the rules to the point where a lot of people actually hated me for it.”

The confusion on Jimin’s face was clear as day, and you knew he was about to interrupt you, but you continue to talk, raising your hand up towards him, “Let me finish,” you exhale, “I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 17, probably because I hated the idea of it.”

What the hell were you talking about?

Jimin cocks a brow, leaving his position behind the counter to approach you, “Did I do something wrong?”

The man never hated you, nor did he think you were crazy to have such outlandish opinions on relationships (he understood where you were coming from) and sometimes it was annoying, but not annoying enough to push you away from him. At the end of the day, you were close friend to him.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassure him, stopping Jimin in his tracks. “I shouldn’t have gone on that blind date. It went horribly.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you, and Jimin remained as he was in case you were still speaking.

“This failed blind date, along with everything we’ve done together, made me realise I’m only ever genuinely happy when I’m with you. It’s pretty fun not having to fuck my pillow every night,” you say, your cheeks growing beet red at the confession. “And I think it’s safe to say that I don’t not want be in a relationship..”

Your eyes meet his and for the first time tonight, Jimin was speechless. He hadn’t said a word and at this moment, you were glad. “So…” your hands travel down to the belt tied around your waist, pulling on one end to loosen the knot and have the coat comfortably slip free down your shoulders, revealing the black strap of you bra draped over your shoulders.

Jimin knew what was coming. He was bracing himself for what you were about to do.

The trench coat finally hit the floor, pooling around your feet and his breath hitches. He raked his eyes up and down your body, drinking in the sight of you. Flawless skin, perfect curves and a face so radiant, you were the only thing glowing under the dim light of his apartment.

“Woah,” is all he says, having no shame displaying the grin on his face. “You sure know how to flatter a man, Y/N,” Jimin shakes his head, as if disapproving your outfit, but really, the man was losing it inside.

He’s quick on his feet, steadily approaching your form and stopping in front of you, his eyes solemnly kept on you, “I’m glad you finally came to your senses,” he says, reaching his hand up to cup your cheek, gently smoothing his thumb across your skin. “How about we do something a little more fitting for your attire tonight?”

You didn’t bother processing his words, wasting no time in crashing your lips against his in an aggressive kiss, Jimin undoubtedly reciprocating and automatically wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to his chest.

His embrace wasn’t long lasting, hands moving down the small of your back to briefly graze the curve of your ass before settling behind your upper thighs, hoisting you up, “Jump,” Jimin mumbles against your lips, eliciting a short hum from you and you immediately oblige, wrapping your legs around your waist and he held onto you securely.

Not once did either of you break the kiss as he carried you towards his bedroom, but once in his bedroom, you pulled away to catch your breath. “I bet you do this with every girl you hook up with, huh?”

“Just you, sweetheart,” he smirks, responding with zero hesitation, gently laying you lie body on his mattress so he could cherish the sight of you.

A gorgeous, stunning, goddess.

“I bet your pillow’s gonna get bored now, huh?”

Your jaw drops, cheeks turning a slight hue of red from embarrassment. Maybe you shouldn’t have told him about that, now he’d be able to use it against you at any given opportunity. You prop yourself up on your elbows, tilting your head at the partly-naked man before you, “I bet my pillow can make me feel a lot better than you can.”

“You wanna test that theory out?” Jimin challenges, leaning over you to grab one of the many pillows on his bed, leaving it beside you. “Can your pillow make you cry? Can your pillow fuck you as good as I can?” He continues to list out all the things you both done together over the last few months, knowing full well the answer to all his questions were no.

He shifts his position to climb onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard with his legs spread far and wide to show you the tent straining against his sweatpants. “If it can, then show me,” he gestures towards the pillow and your almost at a loss for words.

He was gonna watch you get off, and you felt so belittled liking the idea of it.

You grab ahold of the pillow, fluffing it up a bit for your own comfort. “Fine, but you’re not allowed to touch me and you have to sit on the other side of your room,” you instruct him, pointing to the chair tucked under his desk.

Gosh, you were so bossy, but Jimin would do anything to make a princess happy.

“And you’re not allowed to come,” he warns you, pushing himself off the bed and towards his desk, pulling the chair out to face you before taking a seat, adjusting the boner in his pants before gesturing his chin towards you, encouraging you to make a start. “Go ahead, I’ll tell you when to stop.”

You take his previous position and lean back against the headboard, making yourself comfortable before spreading your legs before him, giving him the perfect view of your soaked panties firmly pressing against you. You took your time, hovering your fingers over the damp material and briskly brushing over your clothed clit, triggering your body to shudder.

Knowing that wasn’t enough for you, you slipped your hand past the band of your panties, the pad of your fingers reaching to rub slow, drawn out circles over your sensitive clit. You didn’t need to do much, the mere sight of Jimin turning you on beyond measures.

Jimin was sat far across from you, his chin slightly raised as he watched you and his hand unknowingly palming the erection trapped between his legs and groaning. It hurt so bad he just pushed his sweatpants halfway down his thighs along with his boxers to free the painful erection. He couldn’t bring himself to take his eyes off you as his fingers simultaneously wrapped around his hardening cock.

“Don’t work yourself up too much, you still have that pillow to attend to,” Jimin’s voice echoed through the room, almost missing your attention. You were getting carried away with your own fingers, you completely forgot about the pillow.

You groan and reach out for the pillow, now sitting up on your knees, and spreading your legs apart to make room for the pillow. The pillow was thick enough for you to have a firm hold on it, and as soon as you sunk down on it, the knock on effect of the material brushing over your heat left you whimpering.

Your reactions had Jimin squeezing on the base of his cock, revelling over how sensitive you were.

He loved it.

All you had to do was imagine the pillow was Jimin and you’d be good to go. It seemed effective once you started rocking your hips back and forth against the pillow, failing to contain your short, but sweet whimpers. Your hips would slow down every now and again, taking long, deep strokes to delay your orgasm as much as possible but it didn’t seem to work.

You looked up at Jimin who’s position was now slouched on the chair, steadily pumping his cock between his fists as he watched you.

“Don’t look at me..” you mumble shyly, shaking your head and looking down at the pillow that had already picked up your arousal, darkening the material slightly.

“Why not?” he chuckles breathlessly, repeatedly swiping his thumb over the head of his cock and smearing any and all the precum down the base. His eyes came to a shut in pure bliss as he picked up the pace of his wrist, his groans becoming low moans. All he could think about were your perfect pouty lips wrapping around his cock and sucking him off just right.

“Take the bra off, lemme’ see your tits.”

You don’t hesitate to oblige, flipping your hair to the side and reaching your hands back to unclasp your bra and let the straps fall seamlessly down your shoulders. Your nipples had hardened within seconds being exposed but you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough, too busy rutting against the pillow.

“I can’t believe you let me go on a blind date,” you seethe, projecting your anger towards him and the pace of your hips, now struggling to keep yourself stable.

“We weren’t exactly together, I couldn’t stop you,” Jimin tries to reason with you, aggravation evident in his tone as he mercilessly fucked his fist. He was close, and from the way your body was jerking, he knew you were close too.

It took the man everything and more to still his hand along his member and stand up from his chair, walking over to you with a sly smirk on his face.

“On your stomach, raise your hips. And tell me, what do you think about when you fuck your pillow?”

You whine and force yourself to pull the pillow from between your legs, leaving it elsewhere as you positioned yourself like he’d asked.

“I think about you..” you whisper, “I think about your tongue— your hands all over me.” You hesitate to say more, but you knew that if you really wanted that orgasm, you had to spill. “I think about milking your cock every night, even before we started fucking,” you cry, pushing yourself back against him. The lack of attention to your weeping cunt was playing up with you, “And I love when you tease me— God, I fucking love it.”

Jimin grins, grabbing ahold of your hips and firmly rutting against you from behind, “Mhm, I’ll give you all that and more,” he smiles contently, positioning the head of his cock at your slick hole, teasing you a little before finally pushing into you and eliciting a low ‘fuck’ from his end.

The air is knocked out of lungs much quicker than you expected, the stretch catching you off guard, even though it wasn’t the first time you’d taken him like this; a clear indication you were yet to get used to his size.

“Been thinking about keeping you all to myself,” he admits, short of breath as he looked down between where your body’s met, “Just had to take my time with you. huh?”

Jimin’s words were going through one ear and out the other. All you could hear was his low grunts and your strained moans. “Oh my God— Jimin,” you force out, your half lidded eyes rolling to the back of your head as your poor cunt took him whole.

“No other man can make you feel as good as I can,” he retorts cockily, digging his nails into your hips once he feels your walls greedily squeeze around him. The action makes the pace of his hips falter, but he’s quick to get back on top of it, “Make sure you fucking remember that.”

You nod diligently. You already knew that his words were the truth and the way he was putting it into practice was taking over your being, almost brainwashing you.

You do him the favour of arching your back a little more, giving Jimin all the more room to hold onto you, but it seemed like he had other plans, using this opportunity to pull out and forcing you turn around to lie on your back. You couldn’t say anything, his arms hooking under your knees to push them up towards your chest before swiftly pushing into you again, thrusting at a pace so ungodly, you were sure you couldn’t handle it.

“Too much, Jimin!” you gasp, turning your head away from him to shield your embarrassing state.

He was quick to notice and grabbed ahold of your cheeks, forcing you to look back at him and he continued to fuck you at his torturous pace, rolling his heels deeper into you, “Look at me when I’m fucking you.”

You couldn’t imagine what you looked like right now, but Jimin could safely say you looked like every man’s wet dream. Your fucked out state had his cock twitching between your soft walls, and you couldn’t help but clench around him, giving him that final push to reach his high.

“I’m close..” you breathe out, shaking your head in a bid to ease yourself of your coming orgasm, but Jimin was adamant on having your full, undivided attention.

“Don’t you dare look away from me,” he says, releasing your knees from its contraption only to have your legs dangle over his shoulders as he brought his thumb down to circle over your clit and using it as leverage to push you towards your orgasm.

And that seemed to do the job. A string of curses fell from your lips as you completely broke down on him, a sheen layer of white making an appearance between your legs which only became more prominent once Jimin slowed down. A visible mix of white had coated his cock as he continued to slowly fuck you in a bid to help you calm down.

Jimin’s jaw fell slack once he decided to pull out of you, leaving a trail of white behind him as he fell to lie beside you,

You both finally established this was more than just a mutual fuck; it was an open-ended gateway for the pair of you to become something more.

perm taglist: @aliceaflor5-blog - @kookiecrumb - @jjkeverlast - @prettyghost - @kooliv - @koobsessed - @gimmethatagustd - @pb-n-juju - @aslias17 - @ririlovesangst - @kootonins - @taehyungseggs - @dewamused - @jungshook7 - @jiminsneckkisses - @moonfaery - @jkluvrrs

Please do not repost my works onto any platforms.

#sxtaep #park jimin #jimin #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts x reader #bts smut #bts imagine #bts oneshot #jimin x oc #bts x oc #bts fluff #kpop #kpop smut #kpop imagines #park jimin imagine #jimin imagine

4K notes · View notes

the-ferocious-kittyrose · 3 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel Ep1 Rewrite

Okay, let’s get the shit I like first out of the way. Animation? Beautiful. Art style? Iconic. Music? Pops off.

Okay, now the fun part…

First let me just say, I adore biblical lore. So when I see something changed from the og lore, where I think the og was more interesting, I cannot let it go.

(I’m gonna focus on the Charlie storyline in the episode)

1. The Backstory

Let’s start with the first scene, the backstory of Lucifer and Lilith. In the show, they got some of the timeline and motivations wrong. I understand that the story is sugar coated, but hear me out.

“Once upon a time, there was a dazzling kingdom protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. Home to beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and lived in peace and harmony under the rule of God. The most beautiful of the Angels was Lucifer. He was a dreamer, with fantastical ideas for all creation. But he was restricted by God and the elders of Heaven, for they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world.

Outraged by this injustice, Lucifer gathered an army of Angels, and declared war on the kingdom of Heaven. The battle raged on for centuries, but in the end, Heaven reigned victorious. As punishment for their betrayal, Lucifer and his army were cast out of Heaven. Banished to a crumbling wasteland, where the light of God could not reach. But Lucifer would not wallow in failure. From the barren landscape he rose a beautiful golden palace, crowned himself king and crafted a plan to share his freedom with God’s newest creation. Humanity.”

(I like to imagine that when Lucifer and his army fell, their wings burned up, leaving scattered feathers everywhere. In order to fly to Eden, Lucifer gathered these burned feathers and turned them into a new pair of wings for himself. They were black, messy, and trailed billowing smoke, but they could fly.)

Now for the Lilith part of the story. The more popular interpretation of her is that she is the first wife of Adam, but there is another version too, one where she is Adam’s second Wife after Eve. I personally prefer the latter because I can’t see anyone sinning or getting cast out of Edan before Eve eats the apple.

“He approached the garden of Edan in disguise, and offered the forbidden fruit of knowledge to the mother of humanity, Eve, who gladly accepted. But with the gift of knowledge and freedom, came a terrible curse. Evil bleed into the earth, and humanity was infected by darkness and sin.

For her disobedience Eve was cast out of Edan, to the dismay of her love, Adam. To appease him, the Angels crafted him a new bride, Lilith. Lilith was beautiful, with a voice so enchanting even Lucifer was mesmerized, but she was strong willed and refused to be subservient to her new husband. She fled from the garden, and rather than chase her, Adam found the tree of knowledge and bit into the forbidden fruit, so he could follow his true love, and be with her once more.

Lilith wandered, lost and alone, until she was found by Lucifer. Enamored by her beauty and iron will, he gave her his heart and made her his queen.”

Then you have the bit about Lucifer becoming depressed while Lilith thrived in Hell. I hate this! I was looking forward to a demonic Mortica and Gomez, not another Stolas and Stella. Plus, I’ve never been a fan of uwu sad misunderstood Lucifer. He is a complex character, but too often he’s over simplified by people who read Paradise Lost in high school and misinterpreted Lucifer as a tragic anti hero who was treated unfairly by the evil Angels. Lucifer can be tragic, even sympathetic. He can be fun and a caring father. But don’t forget that he is king of Hell. He is the prince of pride. He has an ego the size of east Texas and waged war against God himself.

And let’s not forget that in the show he is the head honcho over a strict cast system that encourages violence, allows the worst of the worst to take power, and leaves the hellborn races at the bottom at a severe disadvantage.

In this rewrite, Lucifer and Lilith essentially switch places, except Lilith isn’t a pathetic push over, she’s an incredibly famous rockstar, who’s always busy and not around often, but still has a bigger role in her daughter’s life than her husband, who’s been mia doing king shit.

And the last thing we hear about in the intro monologue is that the exterminations happens to prevent Hell from rising against them, which while that may be the case, don’t have Charlie say it!!! That realization for her would make the entire hotel superfluous! Charlie has to think that the problem truly is overpopulation.

2. Meeting with Adam

Let’s start with Adam himself. I hate this character. Especially as an adaptation of Adam. Yes, Adam is misogynistic. He expected Lilith to be subservient to him, but he wouldn’t be the frat boy type of misogynist, he’d be the old school chivalrous type. Grandpa style sexism. And shouldn’t the father of humanity care about his descendants? It doesn’t make any sense for him to be an executioner. He should be the leader of the guardian Angels or something.

In this rewrite, Adam is not the leader of the executioners, instead it’s the Angel Dumah. Dumah is the angel over the wicked dead, and he was appointed by God to torment sinners in Hell.

I want him to be an actual intimidating antagonist. He rarely speaks (his name means “silence”) and has many eyes (is described as having a thousand eyes)

As for the exorcists, they are Angels, but not actual dead humans wearing mask. They just look like that. Dumah is described as having tens of thousands of Angels of Destruction at his disposal. That’s what the exorcists are going to be, but instead of thousands, I’ll give him five. They don’t speak and are hardly sentient. They stand on top of the tower like gargoyles, until they “come to life” for the execution.

“But it’s a comedy! Shouldn’t they be funny?” No. It’s all about how characters react to them. The Litch in Adventure Time is a good example of this.

So obviously the meeting goes a lot differently.

Charlie gets a call, looks at the number, and excitedly tells everyone to, “shooooosh!” She takes the call nervously, saying, “yeah! Okay! Yes! Of course! I’ll be right there! Thank you SOOO much!!!” She hangs up and happily tells Vaggie that Dumah requested a meeting with her. Vaggie is nervous and says she should probably go with her, but Charlie says that she’ll be fine and tells her to stay and work on the commercial. She leaves excited that the Angels may finally be taking her seriously.

She makes it to the clock tower’s board room, where Dumah sits silently at the end of the table. Charlie nervously starts to greet him before she realizes they’re not alone. The Angels, Gabriel and Uriel have come from Heaven, for a meeting with Hell’s princess.

Uriel remains professional, politely bowing her head as she greeted Charlie. Gabriel on the other hand, threw his arms out, happily yelling, “Charlotte!!!” He wrapped her in an uncomfortably tight and awkward hug, saying how much she’s grown since he last saw her. He’s like a chill but estranged uncle meeting his now adult niece who he hasn’t seen since she was a baby and has no memory of him whatsoever.

Uriel watches the whole thing in embarrassment. She tells Charlie that Dumah had contacted them, regarding some, “interesting,” ideas about the extermination.

Charlie starts with her pitch, but Gabriel insists that they should take some time to catch up first. He claps his hands and summons plates of food for everyone. When we cut back to them, Gabriel is in the middle of telling the story about almost getting his ass kicked by Joseph when he told him his virgin wife was pregnant.

Uriel cuts him off, saying she doesn’t need to hear this story for the eighth millionth time. She turns to Charlie, exasperated, and tells her to get on with the pitch.

Charlie says that she has a potential solution for the over population problem in Hell. Uriel, Gabriel, and Dumah look at her blankly. Gabriel asks, “overpopulation?”

Charlie goes on to explain that she knows overpopulation is a big problem, but 275 sinners were executed this year alone and she just can’t stand to watch her people be slaughtered anymore.

Uriel asks if she’s suggesting an alternative, and Charlie very excitedly pitches her idea for the hotel. Uriel and Gabriel wear a matching “wtf” face and look back and forth at eachother like, “does this girl know what she’s suggesting?”

As Charlie is finishing, Uriel is visibly annoyed. She interrupts Charlie, complaining that this is ridiculous and has all been a massive waste of time as she stands up to leave. Charlie tries to stop her, saying, “please, you don’t understand.”

Uriel snaps back, “no, you don’t understand! They had their chance in life and they earned damnation.”

Charlie responds, “you're wrong. Sinners made mistakes, sure, but everyone makes mistakes.”

Uriel pinches the bridge of her nose (or where a nose would be on a person) “a mistake happens once. It’s an accident, an error in judgment due to naivety. Of course mistakes can be forgiven, but we’re not talking about mistakes, are we? These sinners had a choice, and they chose to live in sin.”

“A choice they now regret!” Charlie defends.

“It takes a lot more than regret to be forgiven.” Uriel says coldly. “It takes remorse.”

Gabriel chimes in, “she has a point, Charlie. It’s easy to make someone regret their actions, but to have them feel true selfless remorse, that is much more difficult.”

Charlie furrows her brow and starts to look defeated.

“But perhaps not impossible.”

Charlie beams with excitement. Gabriel explains that this is a big decision, too big to be made right now, but if she can successfully redeem one demon, they will allow her to come to heaven and pitch her idea to the entire Angelic court. Uriel tries to argue, but Gabriel just says they’ll discuss it later. Charlie gives him a tight hug before he and Uriel disappear.

As she turns to leave, Dumah puts his hand on her shoulder. This is the first time he’s moved in the entire scene. He stares at her coldly and says, “the only reason you’re here is your father has spared you from the executioner’s blade. If I had my way. Each and every one of you would be slaughtered.”

Charlie stares up at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

For context, part of the reason Gabriel and Uriel were initially confused by Charlie’s proposal is because they know that Lucifer is trying to keep Hell’s population as high as possible, in preparation for the second war with heaven. That’s why he and the other princes of hell work to manipulate humanity and temp them towards sin (i.e. succubi and incubi). That’s why he arranges marriages between powerful demons to make powerful demon children (i.e. Stolas and Stella). He needs as many demons possible for his army if he’s gonna have a chance at winning. So obviously, sending sinners to heaven, aka the opposing force, is the LAST thing Lucifer would want.

#Hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel rewrite #charlie morningstar #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin lilith #lucifer morningstar #lilith hazbin hotel #vaggie hazbin hotel

253 notes · View notes

andr0nap · 9 months

Text

cowboy au worldbuilding with the thoma

as you can see im taking some creative liberties with the giant emu by making them more diverse bc canon isnt enough for me and i have the brainworms

extra notes below the cut

standard thoma:

the original thoma and most common type available

perfect for travel, can pull wagons or carry light cargo

fast with good stamina, fastest over short distances

friendly, intelligent, energetic and quick to learn

the most diverse in terms of colors, patterns and extra traits

well rounded in all departments (theyre like the AQ horses of trigun)

draft thoma:

uncommon outside of major cities (kept by specialized breeders)

used for construction work and long haul heavy cargo transport

gentle, patient and eager to work

not built for speed but can walk for days at a steady pace without rest

dense feather coat protects them from the heat and sand

expensive to maintain and keep due to their size

theyre a relatively new type that came from selective breeding

"wild" thoma:

actually feral (aka. previously domesticated), not wild

originating from lost/runaways that have not been in contact with humans for generations

rare and elusive with a small population, sometimes spotted living near shipwrecks

people will pay top $$ for their capture

begin to exhibit adaptive mutations that help them survive the wastelands

smaller and less fluffy than their standard counterparts

dont come in many colors, mostly bays, chestnuts and blacks

hardy with incredible endurance

very stubborn, temperamental and intelligent, cant be forced to do something they dont want (like donkeys)

rarely ridden, mostly kept for crossbreeding

cattle-type thoma:

related to the standard thoma but NOT the same species

common pack animal in caravans, sometimes ridden as a cheaper alternative to the standard thoma

mainly bred for meat, hide and eggs

kept in huge open range herds that travel along worm swarms for feeding

sometimes kept as a form for anti-worm pest control

keratin crests are lightweight and used for protection and display

ranchers will paint patterns on their crests as a form of identification

not the sharpest tools in the shed, tend to bite and trample people

#trigun #trigun stampede #cowboy au #worldbuilding #andr0art #i like speculative biology idk what to tell you #its the brainworms #sorry for the horrible handwriting btw #also ik that significant adaptive mutations take longer to appear than a 100 years #but lets say they adapt fast due to genetic modification #the implications of what seeds did after the fall to adapt to the wastelands fascinates me #since thoma arent native to no mans land iirc #did they just have them on board?#what ab other animals?#what kind of non-native wildlife is there #i know there are birds and like... a cat #<- still hasnt read trimax #everything i know has been obtained via tristamp and osmosis #also yes im bringing in the og thoma #diversity win!#i needed a substitute for cows so vash and wolfwood have something to herd for cash #living the cowboy dream baby!

473 notes · View notes

morningstaravatar · 2 years

Text

MC, excited: Ooh! I heard Lucifer’s going to be on TV today!

Luke: I wonder what he’s going to say?

MC, flicking on TV: Let’s find out!

Lucifer, in interview on TV: Hello, My name is Lucifer, the first born brother of 7, the very Avatar of Pride and here on behalf of the Devildom.

Interviewer: Such a huge title! It’s nice to meet you Lucifer so let’s just get right in :) *flips page* So, what can you tell us about this exchange program?

Lucifer: Well for starters it’s a possibility for students of all races, backgrounds, and colors to come together an—

*TV suddenly changes to two people on the screen*

Mammon: Yo! what happened to the show?!

Satan in commercial: Are you tired of self absorbed obnoxious asses?

Belphie: Know it alls who lock you in attics? try to tell you what to do?

Luke: Some of these sound personal.

Satan: Brothers who wear stupid black gloves, a stupid vampire coat like modern day Dracula?

Solomon: Okay yeah — definitely personal.

Belphie and Satan: Then come join the Anti- Lucifer club today!

Everyone in the room:

MC, holding up cookies nervously: Uh.. cookie anyone?

1K notes · View notes

ntaras · 7 months

Text

Father.

spoilers for the newest mk game

i’m very upset at the way they treated bi-han as a one note villain, and hate how they made out his father to be a good man. so, here’s a fic aka some anti sub-zero father propaganda.

the fic is centered around bi-han's relationship with his father

warnings for abuse, implied murder of an infant, and implied death during childbirth

if you see any typos don’t mention it to save me from embarrassment please

word count: 2.5k +

1. Sister

There’s a hand on Bi-Han’s throat. It’s not choking him, but it could if it wanted to. He could thrash and flail in the hand’s grip, but every time he whips his head in order to get away, the grip tightens. It’s mocking him, telling him how his last breath is in its palms. Eventually, Bi-Han learned it would never kill him. It would just make fun of him. It wasn’t any better for him.

But he’s lucky, isn’t he? The very hand that could kill him, also protecting him from death. Evidence of its power to take away life lies in the corpse of Bi-Han’s mother. He can’t see her, and he can’t feel her hands anymore. Even if the hand of his father left an awful pit deep in Bi-Han’s soul, his mother could show her son her hands, and that warmth exists even in the coldest parts.

The hand clasps his shoulder, cold skin- bitter.

“Oh, my son, what will we tell your brother?”

Bitter. Bi-Han hates bitterness. Not the taste, but what he is. It’s a taste too close to the hand around his neck. It’s a taste possessing him, a black tar attacking his soul.

“Bi-Han, did you hear me?”

Hear? What did Bi-Han hear? Just hours ago, when he walked towards the room where he heard his mother screaming and abruptly fell silent, he heard more crying. Though as loud as the screams his mother let out, they were still smaller. He was ushered out by two men standing guard by the door. He didn’t hear the crying again.

But he’s lucky, isn’t he?

“Your mother’s gone, and a sister- you would have had a little sister.”

The very hand that could kill him, also protecting him from death. Lucky, blessed boy, to not be a daughter.

“She’s not dead,” Bi-Han whispered.

“Bi-Han-”

He shoved his father’s hand off his shoulder. “She’s not dead!”

“She is dead- both of them. You mother and sister-”

“I heard her crying!”

Though many of the Lin Kuei men knew the Grandmaster for far longer than Bi-Han had been alive, they didn’t grow up with that man as a father. Bi-Han could see how his eyes held the contempt, scorn, disgust, and hate he had hidden away. They were eyes that watched Bi-Han like he was an animal, and his father the hunter. Though his father never took the shot to kill him, he would graze him enough for blood to spill.

His father’s eyes unveiled themself to Bi-Han.

“Who? No one was crying. Your sister was already dead before she could take her first breath.”

“She’s still alive! I heard her-”

The way his father struck him did sting, but it didn’t hurt. Even if blood began coating his tongue, it’s not as bad as the bitterness.

His father gripped both of his shoulders, dragging Bi-Han close to him and unable to escape his hold. Bi-Han kept his face turned away, looking down at the floor. He could feel the tears forming, and he couldn’t face his father with those tears on display.

“No one is crying except you, Bi-Han.”

Bi-Han’s lips wobbled, the question begging to be released from his mouth.

How’d he do it?

2. Tomas

There’s no love in Bi-Han’s father. He can laugh like any other man, his smiles are like any other man, but kindness doesn’t come from simulated laughs and smiles.

But he loves to feign kindness.

Even if killing Tomas’s family was an accident, sparing him from that same fate wasn’t an accident. Taking in a new son wasn’t an accident. Giving him the tools to be a useful son wasn’t an accident.

Tomas was allowed to keep his mother’s knife- he didn’t want anything else from the bodies of his dead family. The Grandmaster had removed the knife from the mother’s hand, grabbed the knife’s sheath, and handed the bloodstained weapon to Tomas.

Night came, and when Tomas fell asleep, Bi-Han snuck into his room and took the knife. For hours, he washed away the blood from the silver metal and cleaned the sheath. Bi-Han couldn’t wash away the blood that still stained Tomas’s fingers without waking him up.

As Tomas became his and Kuai Liang’s brother, Bi-Han couldn’t bring himself to call Tomas his brother. He was sure he didn’t care much for him, the cleaning of the knife was simply because his father didn’t clean it. It was a good deed that no one knew about- so it didn’t matter if Bi-Han did it.

Besides, Tomas was sure Bi-Han hated him. Bi-Han yelled at him once during a sparring session. Tomas clumsily slipped on the mat, and almost stabbed Bi-Han in the arm. Bi-Han screamed the word “idiot” so loudly, it echoed through the halls of the temple. The eleven year old ran away embarrassed, and Bi-Han was scolded by his father, that a future Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei has to keep his cool, even if others are being idiots.

Bi-Han’s way to his room was past Tomas’s room, but hearing his name leave Tomas’s lips, Bi-Han paused and listened to what was being said about him.

“Why doesn’t Bi-Han like me? I’ve been here for a year and all he does is call me stupid.”

“Bi-Han calls me stupid sometimes.”

Of course, Kuai Liang and Tomas quickly became close. Kuai Liang inherited all the kindness of his mother, the bitterness unable to possess him.

“But Bi-Han means it when he calls me that.”

“He also means it when he calls me that.”

“But you’re his brother! I’m not anything to him.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“What?”

“I think if Bi-Han really hated you, he wouldn’t have let you have the last egg roll yesterday.”

The moment he heard the two giggling, he made his presence known. “Can the two of you shut up? I want to go to sleep.”

Kuai Liang and Tomas sheepishly glanced at their older brother, Kuai Liang trying to stifle his giggles behind his hand, and Tomas completely red in the face. Bi-Han was ready to continue his way to his room, but once again stopped himself when he noticed Tomas staring at him. He locked eyes with the boy, who quickly looked down to the ground. Despite just laughing with Kuai Liang about Bi-Han, once Tomas met Bi-Han’s eyes for the first time since almost harming him, the tears began to slowly work their way down his face.

Had it been Bi-Han’s choice, Tomas wouldn’t be his brother. Instead, Tomas would still be running around in the woods with his family. He’d still have his mother to teach him how to track animals, how to stitch his own clothes, and she’d be the one to give him her knife.

Would it have been a mercy to kill Tomas also, to die in the embrace of his mother, rather than grow up to be another weapon for the man who claims the name “father?”

Bi-Han swallows his bitterness, and forces himself to find his mother’s kindness. “It was only a scratch. It won’t even scar me.”

He leaves before he can see how Tomas reacts.

Bi-Han almost wants to turn around and march towards his father’s room. In that split second of vulnerability, he yearned for his father to convey that same feeling. It’d never happen, it’s a farfetched fantasy.

But the question once again begged to be released into the open.

How’d he do it?

3. Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang is ignorant to his father’s truth. The truth being that all the fondness he has for Kuai Liang isn’t because he loves him. In fact, Kuai Liang is the son that doesn’t matter. It’s Bi-Han that matters. As his father once told Bi-Han, it’s why he’s so harsh with his darling eldest son. Because his claim to the Lin Kuei matters.

The bloody noses, the scars, and the occasional broken bones Kuai Liang received weren’t ever by his father. It was always by Bi-Han whenever they’d train together- almost pitted against each other by their father. As Kuai Liang would be ushered to the infirmary, eager to heal so he can continue training, his father would approach Bi-Han and chastise him for being “too harsh” with his little brother.

He doesn’t care if Bi-Han’s being too harsh with Kuai Liang, just as long as he doesn't kill him.

Bi-Han isn’t scared of hurting Kuai Liang, but he fears his father’s hand hovering around his younger brother’s neck. The gentlest push could snap Kuai Liang’s neck, and then maybe Bi-Han would also die alongside him. Maybe he’d become something worse.

Of course his father is aware that the reason he has such a hold on Bi-Han is because of Kuai Liang, and eventually even because of Tomas. Bi-Han is the only one who lives knowing the capabilities of their father’s violence, the other two boys blessed with being the youngest.

What is it like to be ignorant? As Kuai Liang inherited their mother’s goodness, Bi-Han inherited her knowledge of the truth. She lived a life aware of the terror that was her husband, and was unable to save her children from him. Would Bi-Han be able to save his brothers? What would his mother think of him if he failed?

If she became angry with him, that would be fine. She could lock him out the gates of Heaven if it meant she could embrace Kuai Liang again. Bi-Han would enter hell, and become trapped with his father for eternity, but hopefully he would become the one to torture his father.

He’s never felt the urge to torture his father as much as he did right now.

It’s been ten years since his mother died, today is the “anniversary” of her death. His father always held a dinner in memory of his wife’s and daughter’s untimely demise. Everyone had retired to bed after eating, leaving only Bi-Han and his father facing each other on the opposite sides of the table.

They watched each other in silence as the servants cleaned the table as fast as they could, wanting to escape the awful tension in the air.

As quickly as they finished cleaning, they left the room.

“I was disappointed with the food this year. In all honesty, my appetite was ruined when the rice arrived late. How does plain, white rice arrive late?”

Bi-Han doesn’t respond. His father continues.

“Though it seems you also agree. You barely had anything, but then again, you never eat whenever this day arrives.”

Bi-Han doesn’t respond. His father sighs.

“I waited for everyone else to leave because you clearly have something to say, so what is it? Spit it out, son.”

Bi-Han still doesn’t respond. His father rolls his eyes.

“Even Kuai Liang doesn’t throw a tantrum about this- and you’ve been throwing one for the last ten years. Once a year, you decide to throw this little scene with me. He was eight and practically still glued to that woman’s hip, and yet you’re the one still acting like a child.”

“Don’t.”

His father raised an eyebrow at the one-word response Bi-Han gave him. “What? I could at least understand Kuai Liang if he acted the way you’re acting right now, but you don’t have an excuse. Besides, what if Kuai Liang or Tomas were to die? If you behaved like this, that would simply be embarrassing.”

Bi-Han digs his nails into his palm, his shoulders tensing up. This only urges his father to continue antagonizing his son.

“You are aware that either of them could possibly die? I thought you would have come to peace with that considering our profession. Do you remember your uncle, my own younger brother? Did you see me weep when his body was delivered to me? No, you didn’t. Even if Kuai Liang’s body was delivered to me, I wouldn’t-”

“I’ll kill you someday.”

His father almost misses what he said, the words almost hiding themselves from him. But he heard them, and intrigued, his eyes began to gleam with a wicked glint.

“Will you now?”

Bi-Han still can’t look at that man in the eyes, but his body urges the words out of him anyways.

“The day will come when you’re begging me to save you- when you’re finally at my mercy. And I won’t give you any.”

His father laughs- the most genuine laugh Bi-Han has heard come out of him. If he was Kuai Liang, he would be grinning at the old man’s bellowing laugh.

“I’ll look forward to that day, Bi-Han.”

His father leaves Bi-Han alone at the dinner table. Bi-Han’s throat is dry, sweat pooling at his forehead. That wasn’t torture, that was amusement for his father. It was a circus show his father watched for free. And despite it all, Bi-Han still couldn’t ask the question he’s kept in him for the last ten years.

How’d he do it?

4. Bi-Han

His father is dying.

Bi-Han doesn’t care how his father is dying, he only cares about the fact that he is dying.

The snow has never looked as white as it did with his father’s blood dyeing it. The woods have never been as quiet as it did with his father’s labored breathing. The cold has never touched Bi-Han as much as it did now, with the bitterness leaving his father and the desperation sinking in.

A hand reached out towards Bi-Han, struggling to keep itself supported it collapsed back onto the snow.

“He-help me, son.”

Bi-Han remembers this spot in the woods as the same place Kuai Liang and Tomas began throwing snowballs at him, and in response, Bi-Han kicked the unfinished snowman they built. The woods, at the very least, can offer Bi-Han the memories of fonder parts of his childhood.

“Bi-Han, please.”

The woods can offer melancholic memories also. If he went further into the woods, he would stumble upon the trees Kuai Liang and Tomas planted- gravestones for the family Tomas lost. Though it’s not as sorrowful as it sounds, as it was the same spot Tomas hugged him for the first time.

“I need you to help me, Bi-Han, please.”

If Bi-Han went even further into the woods, he would stumble upon a cave where a bear and her family took shelter in. The first time he saw the mother bear and her cubs, he rushed back home to show Kuai Liang. For hours, they watched the mother catching fish in the river next to the cave, and the cubs annoying each other. They didn’t return back to the temple until the sun began to set. Those bears probably don’t live there anymore, but a new family has probably moved in.

“Son!”

How’d he do it?

There’s a hand on their throat.

How’d he do it?

It doesn’t take much to snap their neck.

How’d he do it?

There’s no blood to spill, so he won’t have to look at himself in the red mirror.

How’d he do it?

No guilt. No relief.

All love.

Bi-Han’s a liar. He doesn’t get a chance to kill his father. He watches his father, instead. He watches his father choke on his own begging and pleading for his eldest son’s love.

It’s all love.

It’s how Bi-Han did it- all love.

The woods have never been more alive, as Bi-Han finally looked his father in his dead, unblinking eyes, and cried.

#mortal kombat #bi-han #sub-zero #mk leaks #mk spoilers #mortal kombat leaks #mortal kombat spoilers #writing;#written with love for the characters and with hatred for the studio that owns them

171 notes · View notes