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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

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Why Couldn’t it Have Been Me?

Part 2

Paring: Wilbur Soot x reader (past), Ghostbur x reader

Disclaimer: This contains major spoilers for Tommyinnit’s 4/29 lore stream

Warnings: swearing, violence, death, near death, cheating, 4/29 lore stream, grief, blood, injury, panic attack

Word count: 6,737

(A/N): So in this, you’re Schlatt’s twin and Puffy’s your older sister. Also, sorry for any mistakes, I typed a good 2/3 of this on my phone

This was your own personal hell: being trapped within cement walls with your ex fiance, your asshole of a brother, and a Dream wannabe that seemed to never lose any energy. Your life was like a trope in a novel alive you would’ve liked, however being cursed to live in it made you absolutely loathe any and all mention of it.

Alive you would’ve killed to hang out with your brother again, not the one that turned to the bottle. Alive you would’ve craved the sweet melodies that streamed from Wilbur’s mouth. You would’ve swooned and maybe, just maybe, you would’ve forgiven him. Alive you would’ve perhaps liked this ‘Mexican Dream’ guy, you would’ve perhaps become the best of friends.

However you despised the three locked up with you with your whole heart.

Your ex fiance was someone you adored. Hell, you even idolized him when you were alive. The Wilbur you knew was sweet, loving, attentive, and just all around someone that you swooned over. You could still remember how your heart exploded when he first asked you out under the setting sun by the ocean. You remembered every song he's written for you, every word and rhythm by heart, even after all these years.

You remembered how you felt your heart completely shatter when you found the songs he had in his drafts for someone that wasn't you. Someone by the name of 'Sally'. After a heated argument you had broken up with him, taking the engagement ring off from your finger and throwing it deep into the ocean. You stayed on L'Manberg's side even after all that, too loyal and proud towards the country you helped forge to drop it. You wouldn't let some stupid boy or rabid tyrants prevent you from raising your beautiful nation up from the ashes.

That had been your downfall. You should've listened to Puffy and left the country behind when you had the chance, now you paid the ultimate price for your deep rooted loyalty and devotion towards independence. And your sacrifice didn't even matter in the end! Your deranged ex blew it all to smithereens. If you didn't despise him before, you absolutely did after your dumbass twin told you about his little 'escapades' while you were gone.

Every little thing Wilbur did, no matter how small it was, made you hate him even more. Every time he would shuffle those damned cards, it made you want to rip them to shreds and throw them across the train tracks. Every time he would sing or even breathe, you wanted to strangle him. You were absolutely certain that Schlatt felt the same.

Oh, your twin was a real card. Always boasting about how his horns were bigger than yours (who even cares anymore? Yours grew in first anyways), telling the others about your shortcomings through crude jokes, even going as far as fighting you through headbutting; you could still feel the pain of being beaten to death before respawning immediately. Schlatt hadn’t known that you respawn even in the afterlife, so you knew he was serious about killing you. You just wanted Puffy, she was far more tolerable than your twin.

The rustling of his suit jacket and his small grunts and pants resonated within the walls as he did various forms of exercising. You now knew about all of the differing variations of a pushup and you hated yourself for listening to his explanations. He would beg you, Mexican Dream, and Wilbur to stand on his back while he did his endless routines. The only one to readily take him up on that offer was Mexican Dream.

That man was arguably the only one you slightly tolerated, and you said that very lightly. He was still annoying as all hell, but he was a new face. Well, one that you didn’t know well enough to have a grudge against while you were alive. It was slightly refreshing, in a sense. When he first got here, his songs, stories, and humor gave you a nice break away from Wilbur’s depressing songs and Schlatt’s crude jokes. However when you spend eleven years trapped in a cage with one person, everything they do becomes the bane of your existence.

You were running out of things that kept you sane in this dump. You've read the same novel, counted the same ceiling and floor tiles (32 ceiling tiles and 57 floor tiles exactly), traced the same cracks in the walls, temporarily killing the same cellmates, you've done anything and everything that this cesspool had to offer. You've done everything billions of times over, a never ending cycle of monotony.

Tommy joining your group of miserable has-beens was perhaps the highlight of your fifteen, almost sixteen, years spent in this shithole. Though he finally dropped the brave facade and showed just how broken down he was after everything he’s been through, having him around was the saving grace to your sanity. He told you how your sister was, how your nephews were, and most importantly what you missed. You knew about all of the events leading up to Mexican Dream's death, but you were left in the dark with everything past that. Ender, you missed so much since you died; It baffled you how much you missed.

When the train actually stopped at your cell instead of just passing by and it's doors opened, you were just expecting another poor soul to be dropped off here. You could imagine everybody's surprise when none other than Dream stepped out of those doors. The nephew that had betrayed you without a second thought, that had murdered you, that had your severed head displayed on his mantle (you weren't sure the truth of that last statement, Tommy has a habit of over exaggerating. Though, Schlatt did say that your body was found with a missing head when you first forced him to tell you what you missed). Tommy talked to you about how he died only once, so you knew just what your nephew has been up to. It infuriated you knowing that your adult nephew was manipulating and abusing this young teenager.

While you were releasing your pent up frustrations on the masked man, he merely brushed past you and drug Tommy into the train by the arm. You could remember Wilbur banging on the doors begging for Dream to return his little brother and his angered screams echoing down the railways as the train sped off back towards the land of the living.

Lucky Tommy, he got to live out the rest of his life and actually age. You and your crew of intolerable jesters were stuck together once again.

Everybody was silent for a few months, reeling at the newly discovered fact that Dream could actually resurrect people. During those three months, they were quiet and tolerable. In a way, the talks that came out of it was like one of those family therapy sessions your older sister would hold in the living room (you remembered how she would grab you and Schlatt by the horns if either one of you refused to go). You would kill to attend one of those therapy sessions again, and this is the closest you were going to get to it.

You all talked about the things you regretted most while you were alive. Mexican Dream's was that he didn't protect his girlfriend Mamacita well enough. Schlatt's was choosing alcohol and power over his family (tears were especially shed over Tubbo, he really did regret abandoning him to be raised by you). Yours was that you were too loyal to a cause that would be absolutely decimated a short while after you sacrificed everything for it. Surprisingly, Wilbur's was that he had hurt you.

He had begged and groveled for forgiveness, telling you that he just didn't feel that special connection with you anymore. That didn't take away from the fact that he was seeing another while you two were still dating and that he blew up your life's work. He had stolen everything from you, and you would never forgive him for that.

After you made your thoughts on him completely clear, he had started treating you like you treated him in the last few months. Tension was building up between you two that had laid dormant for thirteen and a half years like a rope pulled taut about to snap.

Everybody had slowly returned to their annoying selves slowly but surely. Schlatt resumed his workout routine, Mexican Dream had started loudly singing and ranting about Mamacita's everlasting beauty again, and Wilbur eventually started up his solitaire and songwriting once again.

The three of them made you want to rip off your twisting horns and shove them in your ears in hopes of muffling them, but you knew that whomever put you here would restore your hearing and make your horns regrow. You knew that first hand after you spent a couple of years alone in this hellhole; breaking your horns off by repeatedly banging your head against the dull stone walls in a manic state was never fun. The regeneration of the keratin only slightly stung, it was like you were a kid and they were growing in for the first time again.

You felt your eye twitch as Wilbur sang about that damned train for the umpteenth time since he arrived. It’s always ‘train this' and ‘train that' and quite frankly you were sick of it. You were sick of him.

“Shut the fuck up about that damned train,” Schlatt seethed. You never once thought you would ever agree with your twin, but here you were nodding in agreement and shooting a glare at Wilbur’s direction. The brunet merely stopped his singing and reshuffled his cards, the sound making an ugly cacophony and grating at your ears.

“Not my fault you two don’t want to talk to me. I’m just making due with what I’ve been given.” He dealt the cards out in piles and started yet another game of solitaire. Seriously, how many games of solitaire can one play before they lose it? You supposed that you’d find out soon, Wilbur has been playing that monotonous card game nonstop for thirteen and a half years.

“Yeah, let the hombre chill! I like his music.” The masked man reached up to stroke his goatee, the scratching sound further penetrating your focus on your book.

Everything was quiet before Mexican Dream's voice pierced it, "hey, did I ever tell you guys how beautiful my Mamacita was?"

"You told us millions of times, fuckface. You narrate entire love letters daily, so how could we not know how 'beautiful' she was?" You complained, not once looking up from your book. Schlatt snorted to himself and returned to his workout. Mexican Dream crossed his arms in anger, cursing you out under his breath. Wilbur merely glanced at you and rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm tired of your bitchy attitude. Let him talk about Mamacita, it's not his fault every time you think you love someone it fails."

Your grip on your book tightened impossibly. If it were physically possible, the book would be crumbling to dust in your voice grip. You practically see red as you slowly dog-eared the worn page you were on and put your book down.

"Oh shit," you heard Schlatt mumble and move away from you, Mexican Dream following suit. When you both were alive, your anger was always something you knew Schlatt feared. However, you knew that he's never seen you this angry; nobody has. The majority of what you've been holding in for almost fourteen years is about to be unleashed.

"You know what I'm sick of, Wilbur?"

"Oh, do enlighten us."

"I'm sick of each and every single one of you. You three have been absolutely intolerable ever since you arrived. I was doing just fine alone and the universe just had to fuck everything up for me, just like it always does."

"There you go again," Wilbur laughed sardonically, "making everything about yourself." He gathered his cards and shuffled them repeatedly.

"I make everything about myself?! Do you even hear yourself? Mr. Oh-I'm-such-a-disappointment-to-Philza, you wallow in self pity twenty-four seven! You fucking write every single song about yourself!”

"I didn't want to come here, okay?! I didn't think it was gonna be like this! God, I might as well be in hell with you here."

"Believe me, my hell started fourteen years ago when you guys started showing up," you growled out, your ears flattening to the sides of your skull.

"Have you ever stopped to think that you're our hell? All you've done since we came here was complain and be a massive douche to all of us." He fluttered through the deck more and more as the argument escalated, the noise making you want to scream until you tasted blood.

"I'm the one that's in the wrong here? You fucked up my entire life. He," you pointed at Schlatt, "keeps beating me to death. And he," you jutted your chin towards Mexican Dream, "never shuts the hell up… Would you stop with that damn deck?! You're literally so fucking annoying."

He narrowed his eyes, "make me."

A mixture of an animalistic growl and a guttural scream left your lips as you charged at him, your head tilted downwards so he could feel the brunt of your horns. He moved out of the way just in time, the side of your horn brushing against his arm. You crashed head first into the stone wall before you stabilized yourself and looked at the brunet with seething hatred.

He was staring at you in shock, "how're you-" You used his shock to your advantage, throwing a right hook at his face. His head whipped to the side and his body followed, sending him to the ground in a heap.

"How am I still conscious? I'm a ram hybrid, dumbass. What'd you expect?" You huffed angrily before you pried the cards out of his hand and stalked over to the tracks.

He scrambled up to stop you, but before he could even reach you, you held the deck over the tracks and looked down at him. You could just imagine how your horizontal pupils were blazing with fury.

You reveled in the betrayal and animosity gleaming in his eyes as you dangled the thing he held dearest in this hell over the railroads. If you were to drop them, he'd never be able to see them again.

"We promised not to touch belongings on our first day here!" He yelled at you, his hands wrung in front of him nervously hiding the slight tremor. "Our first day here?" You scoffed, "the last time I checked, I was here for two years before any of you showed up." You gestured around the room in one angry swipe, the cards slipping slightly with how sweaty your hands were. It was then that you saw the fear in Schlatt's eyes. Good, that bastard should be scared of you. "If anything, you all are in my domain."

Wilbur flinched at the sight of the cards slowly slipping out of your hand, his breath hitching and panic stricken across his features. Mexican Dream stood up from his place and put his hands up. He was slowly approaching you like you were a cornered wild animal, making sure that you saw his every move.

He nervously chuckled, "let's just put the cards down and have a nice talk. Doesn't that sound better than this, mi amigo?"

You shook the cards once again, taking in Wilbur's silent anguish with glee. "I'm not your friend, I'm anything but. Don't tell me what to fucking do or else that picture of Mamacita is the next to go."

"...Okay, you're in charge, man. Do what you want." He reluctantly sat back down next to Schlatt. The ram was watching in fear, yet it looked like he was entertained with what was happening. You couldn't blame him, the last interesting thing that happened was three full months ago when Tommy was taken. That and you probably looked feral at the moment.

"You understand that if you drop those, they're lost forever right?"

You threw your head back and laughed, "of course I know, why do you think I only have one sock? I already tried that shit out before you came." You hummed to yourself in thought, then grinned. Wilbur was going to love this.

While you shuffled the deck, you kept a close eye on the movement happening inside the cell. Another perk to being a ram hybrid was that you had a nearly 360 degree scope of everything around you. The only movement happening was the panicked breaths from Wilbur, good. You huffed in amusement, "alright Wilbur, let's do a card trick. I'd ask you to pick a card, any card, but I don't want to risk you fucking shit up again. So, I'm just going to draw for you." You drew a card from the middle of the deck and showed it to him. "The eight of clubs, how fitting."

"(Y/n), I don't know what you're getting at, but if you don't give me those cards right now-"

"Shut it, I'm not done. I'm going to shuffle this back into the deck, watch the hands." You kept eye contact with him as you shuffled the cards rigorously, the card you pulled long since hidden with the slight of a hand. After a bit of shuffling and reshuffling, you had sneakily put the card between the two halves and bridged them until the cards were in one pile with the eight of clubs on top.

You chuckled and pulled the top card, once again showing it to him. "Is this your card?"

He nodded slightly, never once taking his eyes off from the deck. "Yes, now give it back to me!" The angry and anxious undertones were like music to your ears.

You tapped your chin in thought, "hm, I don't think I will. You've taken so much from me, it's only fair that I get some revenge." Without another word, you threw the cards behind your head and smiled widely at the sound of the fluttering down to the tracks.

Wilbur launched himself forward with a frantic yell, his hands flailing to catch all of the cards before they were lost forever. He only succeeded in catching a few.

His breath shuddered as he stared at the three cards in his hand: the five of diamonds, the four of spades, and the seven of hearts. The fate of the universe was on your side for once, perhaps preternaturally so.

"You- do you realize what you just did?!" He spun around to face you. If humans could froth at the mouth, a full waterfall would be streaming through his gritted teeth. His eyes held the rage of a man that had just lost everything in one singular instant, the resentment swirling in his dark brown orbs. Several veins were bulging in his face and neck, painting the skin in a red hue.

You walked over to your book and plopped yourself down. "Yeah," you said with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders. You opened up your book and started reading it again, leaving the man to his grief.

Everything was quiet once more much to your delight. Though you read this book from cover to cover thousands of times, enough to know most of the words by heart, you were never able to fully enjoy and immerse yourself in it with them around. You took this time to reclaim your designated corner and spend some quality time reading.

You spent hours with your nose buried deep in your book, savoring the peace. That was until it was snatched out of your hands and ripped away from you. You looked up in slight shock at the sight of Wilbur snapping it shut and walking over to the tracks.

No. No. Nononono he can’t. That was the only thing keeping you sane. He can't just get rid of it when he's done so much towards you when you were alive.

A wail left your mouth as you tackled him to the ground, your arms wrapped around his midsection. He crashed to the ground with a grunt, his forehead smacking against the painted yellow stone. You straddled his back and ripped the book away from him, throwing it across the room and away from the tracks.

You grabbed a fist full of his hair after yanking off his beanie and tossing it into oblivion with his precious cards. You pulled his head up and leaned close to his ear, "you try that shit again and your hat and cards won't be the only things lost to the void." Venom was seeping through your every word, "do you understand me?"

He merely jerked his head to the side, colliding it with your nose and mouth. You shouted in surprise and let him go in favor of holding your aching nose. You could feel the warmth of the blood pouring from it. Through teary eyes, you looked up at Wilbur as he grabbed your book and flung it against the wall of the opposite side of the tracks. You scampered to the edge and watched in horror as it disappeared into the void.

Without warning, you were forced to the ground, a hand holding you by a horn and a knee between your shoulder blades. You struggled before a dark chuckle was heard, "if you keep moving, you'll slip! Do you really want that?" You begrudgingly stopped, realizing that he had all the power in this situation. If he wanted to, he could just slide you off from the platform and toss you away like throwing a piece of paper into the trash.

"Good, you're not as stupid as you were earlier today." He slid you forward, holding your upper body over the tracks by the horn. You came face to face with the swirling abyss that was the void, small shapes appearing from your eyes adjusting to the sudden lack of visual stimulant. Your breathing picked up as he lowered you slightly, "you don't wanna do this."

"No, I do. Thirteen and a half years of having to be around you was hell, but the shit you pulled today just put the icing on the cake. Do you have any last words before you go?"

You grunted as he shook your head slightly, a slight pain coming from the base of your horn. "Fuck you."

"How appropriate, now let's see if you'll come back this time. It'll be our fun little science experiment!"

He dropped your horn without a care in the world, sending you plummeting to your demise. A terrified scream ripped it's way out of your throat and you screwed your eyes tightly shut in preparation for the void. Your body came to a jerking halt as you held your breath, preparing for… whatever awaited you. However, nothing came.

You cracked open an eye only to be met with the uncanny inkyness, the invisible mist freezing your face and its frostbitten arms opened wide for you. But you never fell into its embrace.

Instead, you were pulled back onto the platform. You laid on your stomach with your horn supporting your head staring at the wall, tracing every single nook and cranny of the bricks. Your chest heaved as you greedily gasped for air. You never thought you'd be so relieved to see the cement walls you've been trapped in for over a decade and a half.

You were once again pulled up into a now sitting position and leaned against the wall, your back touching the cool cement. Across from you, you saw Mexican Dream pinning a struggling Wilbur down to the floor. Wilbur's crazed eyes met you, piercing through your very being. However, that didn't affect you in the slightest; you almost were just wiped from existence completely, you stared into the abyss and it stared back at you.

You felt… strange, to say the least. While icy fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, you felt warmth blossoming in you at the same time. It was like the void was an actual person, politely giving you some form of relief from the hell you've been subjected to for over a decade and a half. It was so welcoming, not terrifying like you initially thought it was. When your fingertips grazed its surface it felt freezing to the touch, yet you felt the staticky power it was showing you. In that split moment of touching it, you had already accepted the power it held over you.

A hand softly slapped your cheek, "c'mon, (y/n). Talk to me." Your eyes drifted lazily to your twin. He was extremely pale, his eyes frantically searching your face for any sign of responsiveness. When you looked at him, he visibly relaxed. "It was so… so beautiful, Schlatt."

"Yeah, what the actual fuck did you just say? You almost just- just died for good dumbass." He looked at you incredulously, you could just see the cogs in his brain working hard to process what the hell he was seeing.

You looked back at Wilbur, he had stopped struggling slightly and was instead looking at you with a hint of confusion shining through the crazed daze. Mexican Dream tilted his head, the mask skewing slightly to the side of his face. "Thank you, Wilbur. You've shown me that there's… there's more to this hellhole than suffering. There's beauty in the darkness." His struggling had come to a complete halt, now staring at you with the most confusion you've ever seen from him. You also saw a very small hint of fear from deep within his irises.

A calloused hand gripped your chin and forced you to look back at your twin. "What are you on," he hissed lowly, "the stuff that's comin outta your mouth right now is actually batshit insane. He almost just permanently murked you and you're fucking thanking him."

"I haven't felt this at ease in nearly two decades. I feel ethereal, Schlatt, and it's all thanks to him." You let your eyes drift over to Wilbur. Giving him a content smile, you nodded your thanks at him.

The next few days went by tensely for the others, eyeing your every move and keeping you away from the ledge. You had only peered over the ledge once since then, it was just so alluring to you. It was nothing, yet everything at the same time. Mexican Dream had pulled you back to the opposite end of the room by your horns. The part that disturbed the three men was that you said absolutely nothing about it. You didn't even struggle against it, you just laid limp and let it happen.

With each passing second you spent away from the void, the feeling of utter peace was rapidly draining from your body; instead being replaced by icy fear, paranoia, and the realization that you were almost completely swallowed whole by the void.

After coming back to your senses, you didn't allow anybody near you. Your instincts going haywire and screaming that they were going to hurt you if they came close. The last time Schlatt tried touching you, you damn near took his finger off. They didn't bother trying to approach you anymore, instead glancing at you from the corners of their eyes. Wilbur was perhaps the one you feared the most, you knew that if he didn't hesitate to toss you away the first time, he would surely do it a second time. He spent most of his time staring at you, you didn't know if he was zoned out or not.

Everybody was against you, you knew it. You just knew it. They were plotting to toss you back into the void. That thing- or was it an entity? Whatever it was held a power over you that you didn't know was possible. That trance that it put you in, the craving you felt, was something that was repeating like a broken record in your mind. You could still feel the void calling out to you, it was terrifying.

You spent most of the time huddled in your corner staring at the fingers that had grazed the textured nothingness. You could still feel the buzzing and popping of the power on your fingertips, that inky residue staining your skin wouldn't come off. No matter how hard you scrubbed, scratched, or scraped, it would not leave your body. It was freezing.

The oncoming train screeching to a gradual stop was perhaps the only thing you fully acknowledged outside of your safety bubble in days. You watched in shock as it stopped at the platform. The doors opened with a fwoosh, fog pouring out onto the smooth stone floors.

Out stepped Dream, the smile etched into his cracked mask sent chills to your core. Next to him was… was another Wilbur? How in the name of Ender was that even possible?

This Wilbur was different though. This one was desaturated. This one didn't have an insane glint in his eyes, this one had grief shimmering in the tears that steamed on his cheeks. This one was broken compared to the well established man against the wall. This one was defenseless.

Dream shoved him to the center of the room, the man falling to his hands and knees. Sobs escaped his mouth as steam left his skin and drifted along the sides of his face before dissolving into the air.

"Got a new plaything for you guys, this one isn't as… fun as Wilbur is though." Dream's head turned towards you before it tilted. "What happened there? Did our dear little (y/n) get too close to the void?"

"They are none of your concern, pandejo," Mexican Dream seethed at his counterpart from his position next to the train. "Why are you even here, man?"

"Oh, I'm just here to make a trade. I'm afraid that I'll have to give you guys Ghostbur here in exchange for Wilbur."

Wilbur stared at him with pure hope and glee springing up in his eye for the first time in over a decade. "Really?"

Dream chuckled, "yes, really. What, do you really think I'd lie to you?"

"I don't know, ya smiley freak. You've been known to fuck people over." Schlatt scoffed, his ear flicking in annoyance.

"I'm telling the truth this time. Wilbur, come with me."

Stars shone in his eyes as he reveled in the sight of the open train doors. He followed the masked man with a skip in his step, ecstatic giggles leaving his mouth as he boarded.

Anger flooded you as you purse your lips together and you darted towards the train. The doors were closing already, if you could just-

The door shut with a clank, blocking you from freedom. Your clenched fists banged against the window, glowering at the sight of Wilbur's happiness and Dream looking at you with a wave.

"You fucking bastard! Take me, he doesn't deserve it! He threw his goddamned life away, you're wasting your time with him!" Your angry shouts were ignored by the two however as the train once again started moving with a small hiss.

A frustrated scream left your mouth as you pummeled the iron with your fists as it moved. If only you could find a train car to jump onto-

Now. You leapt from the platform towards the junction between two of the train cars. However, your leap of faith was set to a halt midair by Schlatt holding your upper arms. You thrashed against him, desperate to get back to the land of the living, desperate to leave this godforsaken hell called the afterlife, but once again, you were torn away from what you were trying to achieve.

You fell limp as you watched the last train car pass the platform and disappear down the tracks and into the void. The next possible time it would show it’s face would be in a few months if you were lucky. You let him take you back to your corner, your feet limply being drug against the floor. After you were plopped back down, you stared at the clone of your ex. You were pretty sure Dream said that his name was ‘Ghostbur’. What a strange name, yet you supposed that it was fitting for Wilbur’s apparition.

“Are ya done with your little ‘moment’, (y/n)?” Schlatt was kneeling in front of you, his hands prepared to grab you if you made a run for it. Though his tone was annoyed, you could detect the very small worried undertone of his voice.

You nodded and watched as he took a seat next to you, also staring at the newcomer. This is the closest he’s sat next to you in years.

“...What do you think of the clone over there?” You hummed to yourself, “he looks pathetic, but I think that might be the only thing he and Wilbur share.”

Mexican Dream took a seat next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders. Normally, you would’ve shrugged him off, but you were too emotionally drained to do so. “Si, he does look kinda weak. But I think our new hombre here has promise.”

“Promise for what?” Schlatt snorted. Mexican Dream hesitated, “...I don’t know. This is gonna be interesting, mis amigos.”

“The party’s just begun, boys. Buckle up, this is gonna be a wild fucking ride.” You mused to them, unsure of what the future would hold with the newcomer. Though after a couple of years, you were sure you were going to hate him; that is if he’s nothing like his clone. Ender help you if he’s anything like Wilbur.

As you stared at the broken man, you couldn’t help but wonder: why did he get to go back? As far as you were concerned, psychopaths like him do not deserve a second chance at life. If anything, it should be you boarding that train. It should be you getting a second chance. He was the one that so readily threw his life away while you had yours ripped away from you.

One continuous thought was circling in your mind: why couldn’t it have been me?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wrung your hands together as you anxiously waited for Tommy, Ghostbur, and Friend outside of Pandora’s Vault. Ranboo and Tubbo sat next to you in the grass, giving you silent comfort with their presence. You were mainly worried for your boyfriend, his worst fear was Dream using the resurrection book on him. You had calmed him down from a panic attack prior to meeting up with the teenagers, begging him to let you go in his place. Of course, Ghostbur being the caring and brave soul he was, wove you off and ensured that he’d be okay.

When you saw someone emerging from the portal, you leapt to your feet and steadied your head on your shoulders before you examined the people emerging. Except you only saw a human and a sheep, no ghost.

Tommy looked pale and on the verge of tears as he led Friend towards you. Before he spoke, he used his sleeve to wipe at his tears.

“Hey, Tommy! How did it- where’s Ghostbur?” The enderman hybrid stretched his usually slouched back to peer at the portal, keen eyes searching for any sign of movement.

“I think he’s dead… He’s dead!”

Tubbo tilted his head and looked up at the blond in confusion, “well, yeah. He’s a ghost. Of course he’s dead.” Ranboo nodded in agreement, “yeah, he can’t die again. That just isn’t possible.”

You said nothing (not like you could in the first place, your head wasn’t connected to your body), looking into Tommy’s eyes inquisitively. They were chock full of panic, grief, and fear, staring down at the lead in his clenched hands.

“No, no you don’t understand, it’s not that he’s dead… it’s that Wilbur’s back.”

“Hold on, the Wilbur that blew up L’Manberg? That Wilbur?” Ranboo peered down at him incredulously. “Yes! C’mon, he- we gotta get to L’Manberg.”

He spun around and led Friend towards L’Manberg, walking quickly with a purpose. You, Ranboo, and Tubbo followed. You hugged your head close to your chest, your eyes peeking over your arms. It was always something you’ve done whenever you were scared or worried about something. You heard stories about Wilbur from your nephew, if the stories of his insanity terrified you, you’d hate to see the man in person.

“I was about to kill Dream, and- and Ghostbur died. Dream revived Wilbur… Fuck!” Tommy walked faster, L’Manberg far off in the distance. With one hand, you grabbed the blond’s attention and finger spelled, ‘are you serious? He’s actually gone?’

“Yes! How many times do I have to explain this?! Ghostbur isn’t with us anymore and Wilbur’s back. Wilbur’s back and we’re absolutely fucked.” He turned on his heel and resumed his beeline towards the crater in the wall. No, he couldn’t be gone. This was just a cruel prank they were pulling on you, right?

Tubbo put a comforting hand on your shoulder, giving you a small sympathetic smile. You leaned into his touch slightly and carried on, stepping into the makeshift staircase behind Tommy.

You moved your arms to cover your eyes as you stepped aside to make room for the other two teenagers. You heard a voice; it sounded exactly like Ghostbur’s voice, yet it sounded... off. You however remained hopeful and uncovered your eyes.

The man that stood there certainly wasn’t your boyfriend. Everything about him was just so wrong. The emotion in his eyes, his clothing, his smile, his stance, his hair, everything. This was a completely different person. This was Wilbur Soot.

“Hello again.” His eyes flicked around your group, his gaze lingering on you for longer than the rest. You noticed that he was staring at your neck, but that was okay. You were used to it; everybody did that. What you weren’t used to was the revulsion that flashed in his eyes. The eyes that once lovingly stared at you and reassured you that he’d love you even with your… condition were now filled with disgust.

That was what broke you, the tears that you tried to hold in came streaming out like a waterfall. Stinging pain hit you as the water worked its way through the cloth of your uniform onto your arms, leaving steam floating upwards towards the cave ceiling. You phased through Ranboo’s body and made a mad dash towards your sister’s house. You needed her, you could feel a panic attack brewing inside you. Usually you would hate to be a bother to your older sister and Ghostbur would always calm you down, but now he’s…

You pushed that thought aside and focused completely on getting to Puffy’s house in the distance. You phased through the door without a thought to knock, frantically beginning your search for Puffy.

You looked everywhere, but you couldn’t find her. Unable to cope any longer, you fell to your knees in the middle of the living room and hugged your head to your chest, your face being pushed against your uniform. Your shoulders shook with silent painful sobs, the only sound in the room being the sizzling of your skin.

Why couldn’t it have been you? It should be Ghostbur standing there in that cavern, not Wilbur. This was completely your fault, you should’ve gone instead of him. You should’ve volunteered quicker than he did, you shouldn’t have let him talk you into it with his soothing words. Now because of your complete and utter cowardice, he was stuck in the afterlife once again. You were never going to see him any time soon. Your other half was ripped away from you because of your inaction.

Between sobs, your lips repeatedly formed the same phrase: why couldn’t it have been me?

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#wilbur soot x reader #ghostbur x reader #jschlatt x reader #mexican dream x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #tw: swearing #tw: death #tw: near death #tw: blood #tw: panic attack #tw: violence #tw: injury #tw: grief

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watevermelon · 4 years ago

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✧ Jealous!Atsumu x Reader; Finally returning home after traveling with the MSBY Black Jackals, Atsumu stakes his claim over you. (nsfw)

➳ A/N: TYSM!! Message received ;) ➳ Contains: jealous smut; possessive / dominant sex; semi-public; some light choking; Osamu calls during sex and Atsumu makes you answer ✧ Masterlist

-----xXxXxXxXxXx-----

“Atsumu, please.” You moaned out, “ We should go home first...”

“Don’t ya worry yer pretty little head.”

Eyes forcibly shuttered closed, you were basically begging Atsumu to stop.

The setter just continued to ignore you, his fingers settled inside you as you uttered contradictory pleas. You wanted more pressure, but you also wanted to do this at home. Your begging rotated between asking for more and attempting to persuade him to finally go to your shared apartment.

But there was one thing for sure, no matter how much the logical side of your brain screamed at you, your body was yearning for Atsumu right at this moment.

There was no doubt that your longtime lover was a near-expert when it came to your body. Any of your qualms would be easily pushed aside as you silently gave into his scandalous touches. And despite the latent fear of being caught by bystanders outside of the steamy vehicle, it was getting harder and harder to care.

The two of you had just left dinner with the rest of the old Inarizaki team. Having reunited after all these years, many of the others were catching-up over the lost time. A couple of them you had seen intermittently throughout the blank period - Suna and Aran stayed on the professional scene and you saw Osamu basically every other day.

As a professional athlete, Atsumu was always busy. Playing volleyball full-time was his dream and while he was proud to stand on the national stage, there were some drawbacks that the both of you had long conceded to. Often, he would be out traveling somewhere with the team, whether to stadiums in the far reaches of the country or dealing with PR that came with being a renowned celebrity.

You texted and called during your times apart, but there was nothing that could replace actually being there with someone. The physical affection that you missed from your lover could never be replaced with your own touches.

But as long as Atsumu returned back to you, that was enough to fill your heart whole.

And so you often hung around your own friends and even Osamu. He often teased you were his future sister-in-law, despite nothing being set in stone and not a single rock on your finger. You would reason that Atsumu was a handsome athlete on the world stage meeting plenty of people, but even Osamu had adamantly stated that you alone were his fated future sister.

If only the asshole was as thoughtful around his brother as he was around you.

Osamu was probably trying to push Atsumu’s buttons on purpose, but now you were the unwilling collateral damage.

It started simply, about the new dress you bought in anticipation of Atsumu returning home. You ate lunch with the onigiri twin and were walking together when you passed a boutique with a simple, red dress that flirted high above your knees in the display. You thought about getting it and, with nothing to do for the rest of the day, Osamu hung out with you as you tried it on.

It was all coincidental and you thought nothing of it as Osamu brought it up at the dinner table as you were wearing it now. But when the twin complimented your sense of style, the team seemed to egg you on.

“Ya look so nice today, (L/N)!” Ginjima added.

“Out of all of us, (L/N) has always had the most style.” Suna snidely commented as he gestured to the twins with his chin.

“(L/N)-chan has always been beautiful.” Kosaku complimented, earning a small nod in agreement from Kita.

You glanced at Atsumu in the corner of your eye. And while the smile on his face spelled peace, you knew from his hardened eyes that he was not happy.

It was one thing to accept the compliments of the others, but you were admittedly openly basking in their undivided attention. If he were in a more steady head-space, Atsumu would have frowned or pouted or even took action to put the others in the place. But you hadn’t really seen each other in weeks and he was looking forward to spending individual time with you.

Of course, nothing went his way and instead of the hot night he was looking forward to, instead you ushered him out of your shared apartment to this reunion dinner.

Osamu sat on your other side while Atsumu had to sit there and listen to the two of you chat like you were the ones dating. It was a stupid thought filled with only jealousy, but it only fostered the small pit in his stomach that seemed to grow in recent times.

Atsumu knew that the love you shared between each other was true, but it silently broke his heart every time he had to say goodbye to you knowing that the next time he would see you would be in days or maybe even weeks. You had complained a few times, but you did everything the two of you could to keep your bond. Video chats and texts were one thing, but seeing you constantly on his brother’s social media was another.

Lunches, hang-outs - what else was Atsumu missing?

And seeing the two of you openly talk about it now? Right to his face?

Atsumu wanted to claim where you sat.

And that predatory stare, that possessive claim Atsumu held over you all night as he draped an arm across the back of your chair, came to fruition the moment you two were alone.

You waved goodbye to the rest, Osamu even shooting you a smirk at what he knew his twin was eager to do. A part of you was worried about your body for the next few hours, but when Atsumu tightly squeezed the side of your hip, you knew it would be worth it.

And so he near dragged you two where you parked earlier, you were unceremoniously tossed in the back of the car, Atsumu locking the door behind him as he clamored in. His lips were on you instantly and if not for the tinted windows, you would have pushed him off.

He ravaged you with the intensity of a man starved, sucking at your neck and making his way down your body. There was no hesitation on his end, his hands eagerly pushing your shirt and bra over your breasts. The moment you felt the chill on your skin, he latched onto an already beaded nipple.

“I’ll make sure ya only remember my name by the end of tonight.” He whispered against your skin possessively.

Atsumu maneuvered you around the back seats, pushing away clothing as your skirt bunched up around your hips. Your underwear was thrown away, somewhere on the floor of the car. There were surely red splotches in his wake, kissing at your chest before making his way further down. He dipped a playful tongue in your belly button as he went, surprising you into sitting upright.

He lifted you by the hips, athletic strength more than enough to handle you. You had no firm grasp on the cushions, hand moving to one of the head-rests but having no way to move without having to ask the setter to do so. Atsumu held you completely in his grasp, back arched as his lips trailed down to your awaiting cunt.

“Who do you belong to?”

Atsumu watched as you squirmed uncomfortably. It was obvious you wanted more pressure, more anything, but he was conducting you to the beat of his drum today. He sucked at your clit and watched you cry-out his name in response, near begging him for more.

There was no denying it at this point, evidence of your want all over his face. Atsumu shoved two fingers, to the knuckles, inside you. You threw your head back at the movement, but the setter made no effort to actually move inside you. He pumped once, twice, before pulling out of you entirely.

“Please.”

Atsumu playfully scoffed and you felt the vibration against your skin. You pushed your hips up in response, which only made him back off more.

The teasing asshole.

“I asked ya a question.”

“It’s only ever been you!” You replied, almost sobbing as you looked down at Atsumu, that infamous smirk still on his face from earlier.

“Oh? Why don’t ya prove it?” Atsumu stated, placing you back down on the seat. That second of peace was followed by the setter gripping your neck and pulling you to him, not enough to make you panic, but more than enough to make you aware of the possessive hold.

Atsumu was up on his knees while you were eye level with what he was surely going to have you full with in a second.

“Do I have to do everythin’ myself?” He asked, a hint of impatience in his teasing words.

His hands were still around your throat as you reached for his belt, unclasping and then bringing down his pants. It stayed bunched around his knees and all that was left in front of you were his boxers.

“Feelin’ meek or somethin’ today?” Atsumu spit-out, “Why don’tcha put yer mouth to good use?”

He was being such an asshole and you loved every second of it.

Not that would admit it to the already big-headed setter.

You slowly peeled down the cloth, his awaiting cock springing up against his stomach as you went. Large and veiny and all yours, you admired it for a quick second before licking from the base to the tip. Atsumu groaned as his hold went from your neck to your hair, harshly carding itself in your locks.

Your playful attempts at licking his dick met an impatient scoff from the setter, until he finally gripped his dick and angled it to your mouth. While Atsumu knew your body well at this point, the second could be said about you to him. You sucked eagerly at the head, the vibration going straight to his groin as Atsumu moaned heavenward.

“Oh, playin’ dirty?” He asked, between huffs. “Yer gonna get it in a bit, don’t worry.”

A part of you was overly eager for his promise, almost making you want to act out on purpose if only to get a harder sentence later. But when Atsumu pulled at your hair again, you wanted to make him feel real good. After all, this was the first time you had his dick down your throat in weeks, you wanted to taste him fully.

You sucked at his dick eagerly, your hands going to the space your mouth had not yet reached. Slowly picking up the pace, you watched Atsumu go from a hard stare on you to getting lost in the euphoria of your greedy mouth.

And so you hollowed your cheeks, taking him in all the way to the base as his cock hit the back of your throat. You breathed in through your nose calmly, steadying your breath as you looked up at Atsumu. His eyes were fluttering to the back of his head, leaning backwards slightly as only a hand on the seat held him upright.

There was barely any room to move your tongue, but you did your best to feel against the veiny underside of the setter. His groans only got louder and louder, the grip in your hair incredibly painful as he continued to spiral under your pleasure.

It was only a slight surprise when Atsumu pushed you off. Flipping you over the seats, Atsumu leaned down to whisper against your ear, “Only ‘cause ya’ve been good so far”

You steadied one arm and leg on the cushion beneath you for you while the others stretched to the floor to keep you upright. Stomach against the car seats, you were more than ready for this moment. Atsumu wasted no time angling himself with your heat, immediately sheathing himself to the base the moment he got his bearings.

The car was filled with grotesque, wet sounds as his hips met your own. Atsumu barely gave you any time to adjust, thrusting up into you with quick, deep motions. Your own hand gripped the cushion firmly, nails almost digging into the fabric as if it would give you physical reprieve against his strong thrusts.

“Fuck.” you moaned despite yourself.

You were still in the car, plenty of opportunities for anyone to catch you two.

Not that you really cared anymore.

“Only I know what you like,” Atsumu murmured against your skin, his lips latching to the side of your neck. “Only I know how tight this pretty pussy is.”

When you didn’t respond immediately, the setter slowed down, almost taunting you that you were nothing but an eager slave for his dick. You groaned at his teasing, trying to move your hips back to him, but a steady hand on your waist kept you in place.

“Or am I wrong?” He asked against your skin, a hand trailing up your spine.

“Only you.” you groaned back, reaffirming his words.

It was not that Atsumu was not usually as dominant as this, because usually he was like this. But it usually came with some type of warning or reasoning. Last time it was from hanging around beefy boi Bokuto too much and it seemed now his twin was the new target.

No matter, you secretly loved dominant Atsumu.

“And who’s the only one who will see ya like this?” he asked, almost with an innocent twinge as his hand snaked around the back of your neck.

“You!” You out-cried in between thrusts, head angling upward as you tried your best to get even closer to him.

“Say my name.”

“Fuck me harder, Atsumu! Please!” you whimpered, losing all your faculties.

“There’s my girl,” he praised before sucking another spot on your shoulder.

You could almost feel the smirk of his lips on your skin.

At least you were getting what you wanted. And as Atsumu picked up back to his rigorous pace, you almost thanked the volleyball god’s for finally getting the much needed friction. The sounds of wet slapping and parallel groans promulgated the car, pedestrians outside innocent to the steamy happenings in Atsumu’s car.

“Fuck!” you screamed.

“That’s it.” Atsumu teased, “Let it out, princess.”

His pace was fast and hard, uncaring of the world around you as Atsumu lost himself in your tight hole. From him to be this brutal, you wondered if Atsumu had been envisioning you like this the entire meal. And now you were going to know exactly how much Atsumu had yearned for you.

His fingers curled tightly around your hips, bringing you back to meet his every thrust. There was barely anything you could do against his onslaught, gripping the seats around you as if to give you any physical reprieve.

Your brain was focused on nothing but Atsumu, not even realizing that there was suddenly another sound in the car. The heat of the euphoria covered over the sounds of something vibrating somewhere in the car hadn’t even registered in your brain.

But you surely did not miss the fact that one of Atsumu’s bruising hands had left your hips. And instead, that free hand began to feel around on the floor for the lost item.

“Ay.” Atsumu greeted into his phone, “Somethin’ wrong, ‘Samu?”

You shot a look over your shoulder, confused and wondering why on god’s earth was he saying his twin’s name at this moment. It was only when you saw his phone that you blanched, instantly trying to pull away from the setter. But Atsumu had you pinned, not stopping in his pace as he continued on the phone.

“Ah, (F/N) forgot ‘er phone?” You wanted to wipe the smirk off the setters face, but your hands were occupied in either keeping you help up or covering your mouth from letting out a peep.

This was Osamu of all people! You saw him on a daily basis and if you were caught on the phone for this you would hardly be able to look him in the eye anymore.

Atsumu took one look at your desperate face and decided to make the most of it.

“Lemme put ‘er on the phone for ya.”

The look of realization must have been obvious on your face, for Atsumu’s smirk only grew as he stared back into your eyes.

Atsumu picked up the hand that was holding you upright on the seat and instead put the phone there. You tried to make a fist instead, a silent warning for if he continued this stupid act, but the setter just ground his hips against yours. You stumbled over a moan and Atsumu shot you a conspiratory look, pressing a finger to his lips to signal you to be quiet.

“Hey, Osamu?” You attempted to greet in your usually cheerful tone.

“Hey, (F/N).” His voice sounded through the receiver, making you realize that this was well and truly happening.

“I forgot something at the restaurant?” You asked straight to the point, trying to keep your voice even as Atsumu kissed down the valley of your spine. His pace was still slow, but his small caresses were keeping you actively aware.

“Yea, I have yer phone with me since ya left early.” Osamu stated, his voice casual as you heard his loud dishwasher in the background, signalling he was already home.

“Ah, thank you! I can pick-it up next time I see YOU!” You stuttered over the last word, Atsumu pulling out completely just to fill you to the brim in one thrust.

Atsumu’s quick thrusting resumed from earlier and there was little you could do to hold in a small moan this time. Thankfully, Osamu on the other end had yet to catch onto what was truly happening, since he was recounting your next lunch a couple days from now.

“Is that safe? Goin’ a few days without yer phone?” Osamu asked.

“I - maybe?” you panted in response, not even sure what the question was.

Osamu paused, silence reining for a few seconds, enough to make you panic that he had caught on before he asked. “Ya know both ‘Tsumu and I would kill for ya if somethin’ happened cause ya didn’t have yer phone. Let’s try to stop that from happenin’ before.”

Was what he did say and also what you did not hear.

Instead, you felt your hips rocking back to meet Atsumu as he continued thrusting upward into you. One of his hands around your waist followed the arm holding the phone, pushing it back up to your ear as if to remind you of the painful phone call you were on. His other hand went around your waist, traveling to your clit between and rolling it between his fingers.

This time, there was little you could do to muffle your surprised gasp.

“Whatever, (F/N). I know you can defend yourself, but this is not somethin’ you should fight.”

That wording was odd, you thought in your mind briefly. But any additional thoughts were slammed away with Atsumu’s persistent thrusts.

“I know,” you settled on replying back between pants before stuffing your face back into the car seat.

You expect some type of response back, only continuing to push against Atsumu as the hard slap of skin filled the car. You hadn’t even realized how long Osamu was silent for, before his voice nearly pierced your skin.

“Don’t tell me yer getting dicked down right now.”

Your head shot up immediately, your grasp on the phone tightening as both you and Atsumu heard Osamu hit the nail right on the head with his observation.

There was already an excuse on the tip of your tongue when Atsumu pulled out entirely again before sheathing himself in your dripping cunt. You moaned loudly at the combination of being filled and what his fingers were doing to your lower pearl. There was nothing you could say to get you out of that one.

To your surprise, Atsumu grabbed the phone this time. “Listenin’ to that? She’s mine on every fuckin’ level.”

You heard Osamu laugh through the receiver, before he continued talking. What it was about? You had no fucking clue, the sound just a small murmur in comparison to the sounds of your bodies meeting.

“I hate you so much,” You moaned back, Atsumu still on the phone with his twin.

“Oh? Are you going to cum?” He teased you before turning to the phone, “Ight, talk to ya later.”

How the fuck the both of them could be so casual about this, you didn’t want to know.

Throwing the phone somewhere else on the floor, Atsumu lifted your knee and brought it up to his shoulder. You had very little control in this situation, grasping onto cushions simply to keep from falling. But Atsumu had full control, maintaining his almost impossible rhythm in this deeper position.

“Ahhh, stop.” You weakly protested, “Atsumu, you’re gonna make me…”

“I know exactly what’s going to happen,” he countered.

The speed of his fucking, coupled with the relentless toying of your clit, pushed you over the edge. You came with a near-scream, angling your back as your eyes rolled heavenward. Near simultaneously, you felt Atsumu unload himself within you, holding his hips against yours to make sure you received every single drop.

It was only when your shared essence dripped down to the seat that you realized you hadn’t used a condom. And while you would had usually sighed at the clean-up, especially in a public space like this, Atsumu was already at your back, kissing along your spine.

“Thanks for the creampie, asshole.” you groaned, dropping your head onto the car seat.

“Ya know ya love it, princess.” Atsumu countered, leaning over you as he flipped you onto your back, placing light kisses against the nape of your neck.

You pushed his face away when you fully realized what just happened, “Fuck, Osamu really heard that.”

“Good, now he knows who you belonged to.” Atsumu stated with a level-expression.

“Everyone knows I’m yours, you asshole.”

“It’s still good to send out reminders.” Atsumu replied, “Especially with the way everyone was openly leering at you today.”

“Fuck, you planned to do this, didn’t you?” you asked, not remembering the last time you ever lost your phone. You swore it was in your bag before you left, even taking a selfie with the old crew before.

But Atsumu just smirked and continued to place butterfly kisses on your skin, not dignifying your question with an actual verbal response was enough of an answer.

“Yer beautiful tits, yer legs… these pouty lips.” Atsumu murmured against your skin between pecks, “All mine. Right?”

Something in his voice just screamed at you that he wanted a real answer. His brown eyes bore into your own, an oddly serious expression for having teased you the pats half-hour. Was he jealous of Osamu? Of how much time you spent together? That was nonsense, he was going to be your future family and your heart only beat for Atsumu.

“I’m all yours.” You answered, putting a hand beneath his chin and lifting it to you. He met you halfway, pulling you into another bruising kiss.

One of his hands went back around your waist to pull you close to him, your skin felt lighting aflame for the second time as it touched. You felt Atsumu harden within you again, athletic stamina already preparing him for another round it seemed.

“I love you, Atsumu.”

“I love you, too.”

✧ Masterlist

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booksofkingdomsandcourts · 3 years ago

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Nessian Modern AU: Proposal

A “sequel” to the drabble here that I posted for Nessian Week. As always, what started as a drabble spawned a full-length oneshot. Anyway, writing Nessian was a joy and I look forward to writing more for them in the future. Enjoy!

Warning: Gets a little NSFW near the end because, you know. Them.

Cassian could feel the little velvet box burning a hole in his suit jacket pocket. Were his hands shaking? He was sure they were shaking. Oh god, what if he dropped it? It probably wouldn’t go anywhere, they were pretty far from the edge of the balcony, but it would certainly be embarrassing.

His smart watch buzzed and he looked down at it to see a text from Azriel that said Dude, you’re practically sweating through your suit. Chill the fuck out. Cassian looked up and glared over the table at him. Azriel made a little “calm down” motion with his hands, and Cassian was so wired that if they’d been sitting closer he would have decked him. Luckily, Nesta was engrossed in a conversation with Emerie and Mor and wasn’t paying attention. The way everyone kept glancing at Cassian he was sure that she would have noticed something was going on by now, but she seemed unaware.

Of course, the party was already all about her, she just hadn’t seemed to realize that they were (hopefully) going to be celebrating more than one thing. When she had gotten accepted into law school Cassian had promised her a celebration for the ages, knowing it could double as the perfect chance to pop the question. He had tried to keep it on the down-low, but his brothers had seen right through him. As soon as he had said, “So I’m thinking about planning a trip to Vegas to celebrate Nesta getting into law school. I just want to do something really special for her, you know?” they had turned to him with matching grins and said,

“Oh yeah? Just a casual trip to one of the most spectacular cities in the country?”

“Any special shopping you need to do first?”

Cassian had swung at them while they dodged and laughed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want them to know, it was just that he worried that someone would let something slip to Nesta and ruin the surprise. But then he realized there was no keeping everyone from knowing, because he had to ask Feyre and Elain for their blessing (they gave it readily, with squeals and big hugs), and then he had to ask Emerie and Gwyn to help him find out about rings. Now he sat with what he hoped was the perfect ring in his pocket, showy but classy, with two black diamonds set on either side of a shining two carat white diamond. Shiny and noticeable but…tastefully so, he hoped. That was what Emerie and Gwyn had reported, and really, he should have guessed that, because Nesta liked to be noticed, but only in a way where she was respected, or at least revered.

Now they sat on a private balcony for a dinner service Rhys had helped Cassian book overlooking the Vegas strip, lights and fountains glittering around them, the noise of the strip a pleasant background hum. They had all the usual suspects—Azriel, Rhys and Feyre, Mor and Amren and Varian, Elain and Lucien, and of course, Gwyn and Emerie. Everyone Cassian thought Nesta would want to be here, and the usual plus ones that had to be invited either way. He knew Nesta wouldn’t want a true Jumbotron-style public proposal, but surely this was okay, right? Just their friends? He didn’t think she’d want no one to see it, and yet—

“Hey,” she said, putting her hand on his knee. He started, almost jumping out of his skin. She laughed. “What, did I startle you, sitting here exactly where I’ve been the whole time? Where are those judo reflexes now?”

They all had a nice buzz going, though they were refraining from getting really messy until after dinner. Nesta was maybe the most openly happy Cassian had ever seen her, smiling and laughing and shining in a way that he had never seen before. He knew she was really proud to finally be going to law school after all this time. He could only hope that after this dinner her good mood would be doubled, not dampened.

“Anyway,” Nesta continued, scooting her chair closer to his and sliding her hand dangerously up his thigh. “Could I steal you for a minute after dessert?”

She looked fucking stunning tonight. Not that she didn’t always, but in that little black dress with her perfect tits tastefully on display, her lithe legs in those heels, and her hair swept up and away from her neck, Cassian might have asked to marry her even if she wasn’t his girlfriend. The only thing keeping his libido in check were his nerves, and if she said yes, it wasn’t going to be much of a competition between the two anymore. But until then….

Cassian put his arm around her shoulders, trying to act natural. “I think we’re going to have cocktails then head out and hit the Strip again.”

Nesta raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes. So it’ll be a while before we’re back in our room for the night. I was thinking we could just take a minute.” She moved her fingers on his leg again and with her other hand tilted his head to hers for a kiss. “You look so fucking good in that suit baby,” she whispered against his mouth.

God, he couldn’t wait to marry her. He lost himself for a second, drinking in the feeling of her lips on his, her warm hand against his thigh. She had to say yes. She had to, or Cassian wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

“Get a room!” Lucien called from the other side of the balcony. Cassian heard Elain chide him.

Nesta pulled away and whipped back, “You are here on courtesy invite only, asshole.”

“Nesta!” Elain complained.

If there was anything that would put a damper on Cassian’s marriage plans it was that if he married Nesta and Lucien married Elain, he’d be stuck with the little shithead for the rest of his life. Then Cassian looked at Nesta, already laughing with Emerie again, her hand still resting on his leg, and knew that he couldn’t even pretend. Nothing could cause him to hesitate.

That had to include his nerves. Now that they were finishing with dessert, the servers would be waiting for his speech before bringing out the cocktails and champagne. If he waited too much longer, Nesta would begin to wonder what the holdup was. Fuck his nerves. The last thing he was going to let keep him from marrying Nesta was himself.

So Cassian stood, taking Nesta’s hand and standing her up. Her face brightened, and she gave him a look through her eyelashes. Then it turned to confusion as he started leading her out onto the balcony, in front of everyone.

“Um, I was thinking we’d go inside,” she whispered to him, but he could hear the question in her playful tone. What the hell are you doing?

What he came here to do.

“Everyone?” he said, just loud enough to beat the ambient noise of Vegas below them. They all turned to him from their scattered little tables, and he hoped Nesta wouldn’t read into the eagerness on their faces. Here it was: the main event.

He didn’t let go of Nesta’s hand as he continued, “I want to thank you all so much for coming this weekend to celebrate the most incredible woman any of us have ever been blessed to have in their presence, soon to be the best attorney this nation has ever seen.”

Everyone clapped as Nesta rolled her eyes and said, “Cassian, stop.” But she was smiling.

He didn’t stop, but instead continued, “It has been such an honor to get to be the one by her side through all she has accomplished these past few years. ‘Now Cassian,’ you might be thinking, ‘surely some of that can be attributed to her incredible fitness coach.’ And you would be right,” he said, and as everyone laughed good-naturedly, he heard Nesta mutter, “Nevermind I fucking hate you.” He wasn’t facing her, but he could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

“But in all seriousness, Nesta is the most amazing woman I have ever met. If you all could see her behind the scenes, how hard she works, how much she cares about her family and her friends,” Cassian paused to take Nesta’s other hand, turning her to face him. There were a hundred specific little things he could list, but knowing how easily she was embarrassed, he would leave it at that until they were alone. “I think you’d be pretty in love with her too.”

There were a couple of “aw”s from the crowd, and Cassian was pretty sure Lucien’s was genuine. Nesta was blushing, but Cassian was glad to see she was still smiling. “Cassian, how drunk are you?" she laughed.

“Just enough to fight my nerves,” he replied honestly.

Her smile froze, and a crease appeared between her eyebrows. “What are you nervous about?”

He gave her a grin that he was sure looked nervous as hell. “Would you be mad if I told you I might have had an additional motive for planning this trip?”

He watched as her face changed, putting the clues together just as Cassian sank down onto one knee. She pulled her hands out of his, putting them both over her mouth as Cassian fished the little box out of the inside of his jacket and popped it open. He looked up into her eyes, wide as saucers now, and said, “Nesta Archeron. You are the strongest, sexiest, most capable, most remarkable woman I have ever been fortunate enough to cross the path of. I love everything about you, and I love everything about us. Marry me, Ness. I think we both know this is forever—let’s make it official.”

She made a slight keening sound. Her face had turned very red, and Cassian could see that she was trembling. But at his question she started nodding frantically, and she choked out a, “Yes. Yes, yes.”

Their little audience erupted into cheers as Cassian slid the ring onto her finger and stood. Before he could even kiss her, she pulled herself against him with crushing force, burying her face in his shoulder. He could feel her shuddering as she pulled in big, heaving breaths. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. Then, after a moment without her breaths settling, Cassian said, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yes,” Nesta said, pulling away just enough to talk. Her face was red and streaked with heavy tears. Her breaths were still labored, and Cassian suddenly realized she was genuinely hyperventilating. “Yes, I just, oh god, I can’t—” The words came out choppy as she tried to catch her breath, still crying. She buried herself back in his chest and he realized she was trying to hide her hysterics.

“Okay, okay,” Cassian said quietly, hoping to calm her down before she made herself light headed and passed out. “Let’s step inside, okay? Are you okay to move?”

She nodded, gasping. He gently put his hand on her waist and guided her past the tables. The rest of the party watched with concern, but he mouthed we’ll be right back as he led Nesta inside.

The space inside was mostly just a hall to the balcony, so Cassian pulled Nesta aside to the little alcove by the bathrooms so they would be hidden from the big glass windows. As soon as they were out of sight he pulled her back close to him.

“Just tell me this is happy crying,” he said.

“It is,” Nesta said thickly with a choked laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, slowly stroking his fingers down her back to calm her. “If I had known this would be your reaction, I would have planned something private for you.”

“No! It was perfect,” she said. “Everything was perfect. I—I didn’t know I’d react like this.” She was still sniffling. “I’ve never really imagined my own engagement. I—I never thought I’d love someone this much. That someone would love me this much.”

“I love you that much and more,” Cassian said, meaning it with everything he had. “I would marry you tonight if you wanted. We’re in Vegas—pick any venue and we can make it official.”

She laughed. Her throat still sounded thick but her breathing had returned to normal. “Oh no. We’re having the most grandiose wedding anyone has ever seen. If I’m getting married, everyone is going to know. And I want a ten thousand dollar dress.”

“Deal,” Cassian said without hesitation. Nesta’s heels already brought her much closer to Cassian’s face than usual, but she still had to press herself up an extra inch on her toes to kiss him. Cassian leaned down obligingly, and now feeling the warmth of her body, the cold press of her ring against his jaw as she cupped his face, sent heat settling at the front of his pelvis.

“Now what would you say if I told you to drop your panties,” he growled against her mouth.

She smirked. “I’d say I would.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and tipped her head to whisper in his ear, “But I’d have to be wearing some.”

Cassian groaned, sliding his hands up under the hem of her dress and indeed finding only bare skin. “Fuck, Ness.”

“I was hoping you’d get handsy and find out during dinner,” she said. “But you had other things on your mind, apparently.”

“From now on I promise to always put my hands up your skirt at dinner to check if you’re commando,” Cassian said.

“At every dinner,” Nesta said, kissing him again. “For the rest of our lives. That better be in your wedding vows.”

“For the rest of our lives,” he repeated.

“For the rest of our lives,” she echoed again. Then she kissed him again, passionately, slipping her tongue over his lips.

He pulled his hands out from her dress and opened the door to the bathroom beside them. “Get in,” he commanded, voice a tight snarl. Nesta took her time, sending him a sultry look through ruined makeup as she swayed her hips and made her way into the single-person room. Cassian followed, locking the door. She stayed with her back to him, watching in the mirror as he slid his suit jacket off and hung it on the hook on the door. She licked her bottom lip as he rolled his sleeves up just a little, to try and make sure he wouldn’t soil them. He met her eyes in the mirror, and he read her intention in the look on her face. She leaned forward and braced herself on the sink.

“Alright then,” he chuckled, undoing his belt and unfastening his pants to slide them down just over his rapidly hardening cock. He shoved the hem of her dress up to expose her bare ass and said, “Better make sure you’ve got a good grip on that sink, sweetheart. You’re going to need it.”

*~*~*

Cassian made his way back out onto the balcony, put back together on the outside but with his head still swimming with the look on Nesta’s face in the mirror as she finished around him. Evidently someone had made the wise call to start cocktail hour without waiting for them, and the laughter he heard around him sounded a lot louder and messier than it had when he’d left. Gwyn and Emerie quickly departed for inside, makeup bags in hand, to help clean Nesta up for the rest of the night. Cassian was swarmed with congratulations, and he ordered a scotch on the rocks to keep him busy while he waited for his fiancée to reemerge.

When Nesta reentered the party she was almost knocked to the ground by her sisters, and she begged them not to make her cry again. Rhys motioned to a server who brought out a bottle of champagne Rhysand had specially reserved for Nesta and Cassian (Cassian didn’t even want to know how much it cost), and Nesta popped the cork to raucous applause. Elain slapped them both with Just Engaged! sashes to wear for the rest of the night, and through it all, there was never a moment that Nesta and Cassian didn’t have some form of physical contact, be it holding hands or hips against each other or an arm around the shoulder. Cassian caught the way Nesta kept looking at her ring, tilting her hand to make it glitter in the lights. Then she would look at him, and she would smile, and as they headed out the Strip to celebrate, Cassian felt happier than he ever had in his entire life.

#nessian #nessian fanfic #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #my writing

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secondhand-trash · 4 years ago

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Lost in Blues

A/N: this is a rewrite of the Oikawa drabble I posted last year. To me, it was one of the things I written that I had a lot of ideas for but ruined because I was rushing it so I really want to give the idea another chance. This does not have nearly the same vibe as the old one and I think I am glad that I decided to rewrite it. I’m still debating whether I would private the old one or not but I’m definitely way happier with how this turns out than the last time round.

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x reader

Description: You gave him the most reckless, carefree days of your life and you did not expect to meet him again at a wedding of all occasions after those days were long over.

Word count: 2140

(more lines I like from things I like as prompts for people I like)

“Is it ‘running through the airport’ kind of love?”

“The only person I’d run through an airport for is you.”

Season 2, ep6, Fleabag

There was nothing you could think of that was possibly worse than sitting next to your ex at a wedding.

The nicely-tailored jacket on your shoulders felt more restrictive than it had been before you looked up when you heard someone asking if it was alright to sit next to you and it was him. Your eyes widened (just slightly, very slightly and you hoped he didn’t catch it) when you saw him, giving a curt nod before shifting farther away from the empty seat so that there would be a bit of distance between the two of you after he sat down.

You were dressed to the nines, putting in way more effort than you normally would into your appearance which turned out to be a brilliant decision on your part. He looked great, as he used to be and probably always would be, with his dress shirt and polished leather shoes. You would hate to admit that you stole a quick glance at the person you knew so well when the string quartet started playing, losing to your curiosity to know how much he had changed and how much was the same. His hair got shorted, the bangs he had cared for so meticulously before now gone and pushed to the side in a way that finally stopped screaming ‘teen idol’. His jaw grew stronger, the boyish roundness of his cheeks gone without a trace. But he was still loud, even as he sat there in silence and listened to the band. The first two buttons of his shirt were undone, which was already too flamboyant as a wedding guest for your taste. The golden buckle of his belt shined far too bright with each shift of his body and you could not ignore the ring of a matching tone on his thumb as you turned your focus away when you realised you probably shouldn’t be staring at your ex’s belt of all places.

You knew you probably wouldn’t look better or even as good as he was, but you sure was glad that you were at least looking like you had a good life after exiting out of his.

You hoped he would pretend that he does not know you for the rest of the ceremony, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t.

“It’s been a while,” you had to bite back the sigh that nearly slipped from your lips when you heard him, “how have you been?”

See, spot on.

You tried to not make your exasperation too obvious as you turned to his side slightly, putting on a smile that was friendly enough to be polite but also enough distant for him to know that you were not particularly thrilled for this conversation.

It wasn’t that you two ended on bad terms, but the way you slowly drifted apart was nowhere near satisfactory either.

“Good,” you said, “you?”

His throat tightened at your clear disinterested. The more logical thing he should have done when he walked through the door and saw you at the end of the row all by yourself was to sit at the other end of the room, one that made sure you two would not be in each other’s view until the whole ceremony was over. But it had been so long, and his legs were moving before his mind could stop him until he was standing right next to you.

“Doing good too,” he replied, trying his best to keep the conversation going, “are you here with anyone?”

“No,” you swallowed the lump at the back of your throat and kept your smile on, “I’m on my own.”

“Oh?” his voice slightly sharpened, tilting his head in both interest and in shock,

You shrugged, “My boyfriend doesn’t work here so he couldn’t make it.”

There was a brief pause.

“Oh,” he said, feeling a slight bitterness well up at the back of his throat at how ironically similar it sounded like.

He gulped, debating in his head whether it was worth risking it to say what he wanted to say.

The side that wanted to know how it was different this time won.

“Did you run through an airport for him too?” he said, trying to put on the most charming, non-offensive smile he could manage.

He was relieved that the gambling paid off when you actually let out a snort.

“No,” your shoulder pulled back slightly as you shook your head, your eyes dropping when you felt a hint of fondness welling up at the recall of the piece of memory that had been tugged at the back of your head, “I don’t run through airports anymore.”

You ran through an airport for the man who was now sitting next to you and even though it was an utterly stupid decision on your part, the reminiscence of your naïve romance brought a bitter-sweet sore to your chest. It was 8 years ago but almost felt longer, when he was about to leave the country to go to the other end of the globe. He did not tell you, that asshole who always decided everything for himself and just ran straight ahead for it. You wouldn’t even know he was leaving if you did not get your phone bombed by frantic calls from his best friend who yelled at you when you finally picked up.

“That shithead is leaving for Argentine in a few hours,” Iwaizumi sucked in a breath, sounding out of breath as he spitted words out of his mouth before you could ask him why he was telling you that, “and I know both of you are too fucking proud to say anything but if you come now, you can still make it in time before he needs to board his flight.”

“So just come, just-” you barely heard the last of his call and the sound of boys hollering from behind him when you threw your phone down onto your bag and grab the nearest shirt you could reach, “come.”

You barely made it in time to the airport and almost got lost because, hell, why was Sendai Airport so god damn big for no good reason at all. You had to run just to get there when he was about to walk past the glass walls of the departure hall, his friends holding him back by the arms when his mouth hung open in shock when he heard you call out his name from the far end of the hall.

You almost knocked him down when you crashed into him, his arms waving around aimlessly before he realised he should be holding you back instead.

"Why are you-”

“You’re an asshole and I hate that I’m doing this,” you muttered, fighting back the tears that were welling up at the corner of your eyes.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he let out a soft gasped, but allowing the burst of warmth in his chest to take over when you let out a laugh through the sob that broke through.

It was reckless, it was embarrassing and people were probably staring but you honestly didn’t care less. You were so in love with him and for reasons you could not believe, he was so in love with you.

And at that moment when he ignored how ugly you probably looked with tear and snot running down your chin and kissed you like he had been waiting for this, it seemed like every piece of the puzzle had clicked into the right place at last.

But the fairytale ended right after the climax, when the story had to continue past the point when the prince finally kissed the princess and everyone rejoiced.

At first, the distance didn’t bother you at all. You were okay with calling him every evening to say “good morning” to him, and he gladly did the same when he was walking home to his empty one-room apartment after another rough day at practice. He told you he was tired but he felt energised again when he got to hear your voice and you made fun of him for being cheesy on the tongue while smiling ear to ear. You believed that your love could win against time and distance, he believed that you two could definitely find a way.

The question of what would happen if this lasted and who should make sacrifices for who hung over the air, but you didn’t care. You were still so young, you had time.

Until waiting for the call to come only to get nothing but a text many hours later saying that practice held him up started to make you feel frustrated and you were tired of being expected to be the considerate one because he was the one with big dreams you should support. The insecurities he thought he could push down turned ugly when you started to have more and more friends that he wouldn’t be notified of until they appear in your pictures, some standing far too close to you that his bitterness seeped through when he couldn’t stop himself from talking about how happy you seemed to be when he finally had time to sit down and take your call.

“And what is wrong with that?” you gritted, and felt even more aggravated when you remembered seeing his teammate tagged him in a picture where they were out clubbing only moments after he finally texted you saying he was too tired and needed to rest instead of having your weekly video call, “Why am I not allowed to be happy with people who are around me?”

And you also had your insecurities, and he was young and in a place where everything was new to him, and you knew he could be having a much more reckless time if he didn’t have to think about whether it would upset you when you found out, and he knew he could not give you a good enough reason to not feel unsafe, and he already made a choice on where way he wanted to head towards when he boarded that plane.

A way that you felt would be better for the both of you if you turn back while you could still think back on the times you did love him with a fond smile.

Running through the airport was so much easier than the rest that came after.

You were still smiling but quiet until you slowly parted your lips and looked up.

“The only person I’d run through an airport for is you.”

He shared the most reckless, the most carefree days of your life but you grew up now, and now you wanted someone who you did not need to run after.

He seemed like he wanted to say something, but the stop of the strings also put a stop to the moment.

“Dearly beloved…”

“It’s starting.”

You did not talk again for the rest of the ceremony.

“Are you free?”

You paused your hand that was shoving your phone back into your bag after pulling it out to check what time it was when Oikawa turned to your side. The ceremony ended and it was almost 6, not too early and not too late. The sun was sinking outside and the golden rays shined through the stained glass windows of the ceremony hall.

You blinked, “After this, you mean?”

“Yeah,” he toyed with the thick gold band on his thumb, “do you have time?”

He regretted it the moment he asked. It had been seven years since you last talked and if he had never once wanted to contact you again then he sure shouldn’t have done it now. You also had someone else, to add to it, someone who you could do long-distance with and not looked distressed when you bring it up, what type of person would he looked like now after he asked his ex if they were free after a wedding?

To his relief, you did not seem too taken aback. You only looked down, pulled your phone out again to unlock your screen and look at the time before locking your eyebrows together, putting it away when you finished calculating.

“Nah,” you shook your head with a tiny smile, “I have a call with someone later.”

You said ‘someone’ but he caught the hint from the way the corner of your lips lifted up just a little higher.

Oikawa Tooru laughed, something he did not expect himself to do.

You were doing well, like him, even though in separate places and with separate people.

That was good.

So he said it, smiling without knowing that he was, “That’s good.”

He meant it.

“Yeah,” you nodded and smiled back, this time at him and with ease, “it is.”

And so did you.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #oikawa imagine #oikawa imagines #oikawa x reader

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years ago

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I've heard of Snape/Hermione and Snape/Harry. What's your opinion about them? Why do people ship this? How did it even get in their heads? Not HATING, per se, just really really REALLY confused.

Personally, like I do with all things, I hate it.

But why I hate it and the reason other people like it are two entirely different things. Well, three entirely different things, maybe four.

So, with that, let’s begin.

Why Do People Ship Snape With Anybody?

So, what’s the deal with Snape? In the books he’s a petty man-child who spends his days tormenting children, acting as Dumbledore’s janitor, and lives a meaningless life with a nearly meaningless death.

However, remember, this isn’t quite who he’s supposed to be.

JKR presents him as a tormented and complicated man. Yes, he’s an asshole unreasonably bitter against the existence of a child, who when turning traitor to Dumbledore made it very clear he hoped James and Harry would die and Lily alone would be spared. However, ultimately Harry not only forgives him, but decides that Snape was secretly the bravest man he knows.

This is ingredient one: Snape is a complicated and tragic man who lived a miserable life.

Ingredient two: Snape is played by Alan Rickman in the film franchise.

Sure, they gave Alan Rickman the worst hair in the world, it’s not young Alan Rickman, and he acts like Snape. But he’s still Alan Rickman and he oozes charisma. He can’t help it. And while the Snape of the books was this gangly, greasy, bat like figure the movie version is not. When he speaks, you can’t help but listen to that voice. What I mean is you take Snape seriously in every moment. Even when he’s... Snape.

Ingredient three: Snape is one of the smartest characters in the series.

Harry Potter is a series filled with idiots, each one dumber than the last. Ask me to list powerful characters, I can only come up with eight, and really only three (one that I made up).

Snape, however, is a smart guy and is one of the only competent people in the country. This is why both Dumbledore and Voldemort rely on the same man exclusively who they know is a double agent. There is no one else.

It’s either him or you have to turn to Molly Weasley and Bellatrix.

Ingredient four: He was tragically dumped and angsts over this until he dies

Lily drops Snape like it’s hot. Personally, I agree with her, given what he said she absolutely had to cut ties. Many don’t and are very sympathetic to Snape. Or else they believe Snape has learned from his mistakes later (which.... probably not).

Regardless, Lily Evans moving on to greener pastures makes Snape sad and miserable. He was dumped by the hot chick, IF I DATED THIS MAN I WOULD NEVER DUMP HIM AND MAKE HIM SAD!

All of this combines into making Snape into the same tragic figure we see in Tyrion from “A Song of Ice and Fire”.

He’s very intelligent but utterly miserable, a true blue cynic, who (when fans put their mind to it) has a heart of gold underneath and all he needs is someone who can see how wonderful he is.

The difference being that fans make Snape sexy. No, seriously, I have read Hermione/Snape fics where she gushes about how amazing his hair is. I guess Hermione likes that grease (this is the sound of me shuddering).

Why Do People Ship Hermione and Snape?

This is a very common pairing archetype. It’s our strong, smart, female lead protagonist getting with the older, bitter, intellectual. They appreciate each other’s brilliance and have a Mature and Adult Relationship (TM) and remind the audience at every turn how they’re far more intellectual than the likes of Harry, Ron, and us readers.

They get together inventing some spell or some potion.

Snape discovers that Hermione actually is brilliant and not just a know-it-all brat. Hermione discovers that Snape has unfound depths because he was once dumped by Harry’s mother.

... I just explained why I hate it.

RIGHT.

People like it because it’s very.. Well, it’s Pride and Prejudice. This is very Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. She’s prejudiced, he’s proud, they circle around each other for a long time until they finally wind up together.

When it’s not that usually there’s some political mind games, the sort of thing you see in Dramione, The difference being usually this author thinks that Draco is what he actually is the books: a racist Richie Rich who goes around whining about his father. So, Snape becomes an older, more cynical, more complicated, and more sophisticated male lead instead.

The author usually makes some excuse about how it’s okay for Snape to have sex with his student. Either Hermione’s older now and it’s no longer an issue or... magic demands he marry a sixteen-year-old girl (seriously, I’ve seen this too).

Why Do People Ship Harry and Snape?

Rather than the two intellectuals getting together this is instead the Goodness of Harry (TM). Harry makes up for his mother’s flaws, he forgives and dates Snape and surpasses his shallow parents. Snape is awed and amazed by this boy he had brushed off as his father’s son, realizes Harry is his own person, and is desperately in love with him.

It’s a... sweet story. It’s about love, the goodness of Harry, and Snape learning how not to be a miserable bastard.

Of course, given my opinions on Harry, you know where I stand. Harry in canon is more likely to have murdered Snape himself in any given year of Hogwarts and asked Hermione to help him hide the body. They probably feed the dismembered limbs to Fang.

As for Snape, he loathes Harry’s entire existence. Harry being a douchebag like his father certainly doesn’t help, but just for having survived in Lily Evans’ place Snape would have loathed him entirely.

That, and Snape/Harry fics usually get weird with the surreal fluff and mpreg. So much mpreg.

#ask #anon #severus snape #harry potter #hermione granger

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cristalconnors · 4 years ago

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TOP 20 SONGS OF 2020

20. “BELOW THE CLAVICLE”- EARTHEATER

“The meaning hasn’t come up yet. It’s still under the surface below the clavicle.”

It isn’t just Alexandra Drewchin’s ear splitting soprano when she hits that impossibly high B, practically shrieking out the “cle” syllable of clavicle, though that’s undoubtedly when I first knew that Eartheater’s avant folk was for me- it’s also the cinematic, lush strings, both bowed and plucked (is that acoustic guitar or harp? I genuinely can’t tell), deepening and complicating the sonic texture of Drewchin’s study of parsing through emotions you aren’t ready to make sense of yet.

19. “PUSSY TALK”- CITY GIRLS, FT. DOJA CAT

“This pussy so ghetto, this pussy speak ebonics”

“WAP”’s funnier, classless Irish twin, though it’s important to note “Pussy Talk” came first. Yung Miami and JT enlist Doja Cat to expound on everything their pussies deserve and will absolutely settle for nothing less than. And why should they when they’re spitting out verses this inspiredly hilarious with such confidence and flow?

18. “LICK IN HEAVEN”- JESSY LANZA

“Once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning...”

Jessy Lanza is talking about losing your cool, letting your emotions get the best of you and lashing out instead of letting cooler heads prevail, but when that earworm of a chorus hits- “once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning” - I can’t stop spinning. I’m that woman on the single art, a wine mom lost in the delirium of the dance floor and in Lanza’s hypnotic, fragmented rhythms.

17. “GASLIGHTER”- THE CHICKS

“Boy, you know exactly what you did on my boat!”

“Gaslighter” finds Natalie Ames and her Chicks at their most simultaneously ruthless and ebullient, ripping Ames’s ex-husband Adrian Pasdar a new asshole and ratcheting up the righteous anger of “Goodbye Earl” tenfold, channeling it into a glorious wall of sound in what might be their most rousing, emotionally resonant chorus in their storied career.

16. “HANNAH SUN”- LOMELDA

“Hannah do no harm...”

While “Hannah Sun” begins as an exquisitely observed rumination on grappling with long-distance, pining for someone who’s a continent away, it gradually becomes clear that Hannah Read blames herself for putting the distance between her and the subject of her longing, and that the distance isn’t strictly literal. Skittering synths (or is that distorted flute?) complicate and enrich the texture of the song, allowing it to build organically and stunningly towards a heartbreaking plea to herself- “Hannah, do no harm.”

15. “FIRE”- WAXAHATCHEE

“And when I turn back around will you drain me back out? Will you let me believe that I broke through?”

When I’d drive back and forth between Dallas and Austin over and over again when I was in college, I’d often get off I-35 past Waco and take the back roads through towns I’d never heard of, the sun setting spectacularly behind the titular hills of Hill Country that were beginning to roll out in earnest. I think about that a lot when listening to “Fire,” a song dripping in rural Americana that was, unsurprisingly, inspired by a road trip. We’ve probably all been Katie Crutchfield as she crossed the bridge into West Memphis- alone in the car, awed by the simple beauty of the American countryside, making speeches to ourselves about our past mistakes and figuring out a way forward.

14. “3AM”- HAIM

“On the screen and in my jeans, just make me feel good.”

On an album full of genre departures and decidedly darker themes than we’ve typically heard from Haim in their near decade of syncopated bubblegum pop rock, “3AM” stands out not only as their most effective stab at pastiche, slipping into the trappings of contemporary R&B with shocking ease and gusto, but also as their most unabashedly fun track in their entire oeuvre. “I think you can hear the amount of joy and laughs we had making this song” Alana Haim tells Apple Music, and you absolutely can.

13. “QADIR”- NICK HAKIM

“We’re sinking down a hole without thinking about our loved ones who might be shrinking...”

I often wonder if I’m putting enough effort into maintaining my relationships with friends I don’t see regularly, who live several time zones away, living their own lives while I live mine. When the thought of sustaining simple correspondence becomes overwhelming, it’s easy for months to go by before you realize you haven’t spoken to one of your closest friends. “QADIR” plays less like a eulogy for a friend gone too soon (though of course it is that) than a plea to the listener to put in the work. It’s worth it. You never know when it’ll be too late.

12. “LEVITATING”- DUA LIPA

“Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes shining just the way we are.”

Just a few bars of that delightfully bouncy, extra-terrestrial beat is enough to launch me into space. It’s so refreshing to hear a song that remembers that pop is supposed to be joyful and is best when it’s a bit silly. When discussing this track with Apple Music, Dua Lipa cites Austin Powers as inspiration, elaborating that “if I do a video for this, Mike Meyers has to be in it.” Can’t you just see them together, performing a farcical pas de deux of seduction like the spiritual successor to “Beautiful Stranger?”

11. “RIQUIQUI”- ARCA

“Love in the face of fear! Fear in the face of God!”

Arca’s made a career of harnessing chaos and somehow making sense of it. On an album that finds her embracing more traditional, accessible song structures, “Riquiqui” is a reminder that even when working within an AB structure, she’s still breaking rules left and right and having a blast doing it. She’s also never sounded so ferociously empowered in either her femininity or in her Venezuelan identity, rattling off local colloquialisms with affection and verve without a second thought as to who’s going to understand it.

10. “FANTASY”- AGAINST ALL LOGIC

“I think about you all the time...”

Or, the musical embodiment of this gif:

When Nicolas Jaar’s tormented synths and crunching beats give way to Beyoncé’s unmistakable alto, it is indeed quite the shock. But should it be? Even if 2017-2019 finds him ditching the dancefloor in favor of more severe, unforgiving soundscapes, his already varied career has shown us nothing’s off limits to him. So why not reinvent Beyoncé’s iconic “Baby Boy” into an industrial, vaguely sinister certified bop that arguably surpasses the original?

9. “PEOPLE, I’VE BEEN SAD”- CHRISTINE AND THE QUEENS

“If you disappear, then I’m disappearing, too.”

“People, I’ve been sad” plays out with the vulnerability and intimacy of a tumblr text post you put out in the middle of the night, only to hastily delete later when it gets no notes. It forgoes flowery language in favor of just getting to the point. “I’ve been sad.” Héloïse Adelaïde Letissier blows up this deceptively simple sentiment with richly layered textures and a big screen gloss not to offer any remedies but instead to offer solidarity. We’re all in this hell together.

8. “DESCRIBE”- PERFUME GENIUS

“Can you just find him for me?”

Mike Hadreas has never sounded so hopeless. Utilizing harsh, rattling guitar that would make Kevin Shields swoon, he conveys the experience of being so estranged from happiness and joy that you need to rely on others to describe the sensation to you. But how, when exploring darker textures than he ever has before, does he make despondency sound so divine?

7. “4 AMERICAN DOLLARS”- U.S. GIRLS

“No matter how much you get to have, you will still die and that’s the only thing.”

Meg Remy picks up where she left off on “4 American Dollars,” reviving the subversive pastiche she mastered on In a Poem Unlimited, this time harnessing the power of funk to dismantle the fallacies we’re taught about the virtues of capitalism. Heavy stuff, but Remy makes it less didactic than joyous, ensuring the listener will be singing “I don’t believe in pennies and nickels and dimes and dollars and pesos and pounds and rupees and yen and rubles” until they start to wonder if maybe they shouldn’t, either.

6. “STUPID LOVE”- LADY GAGA

“I freak out, I freak out, I freak out, I freak out!”

Due to a healthy spirit of contrarianism mixed with a touch of internalized homophobia and genuine bafflement at her universal appeal and praise, I was a proud Lady Gaga hater for as long as she’d been a cultural entity. I just didn’t get her at all and loved that about myself. Annoying, I know. 2020 was the year I was finally ready to let that all go. Just before the world fell apart in March, I was out at Flaming Saddles (RIP) with friends the night this song came out and by the sixteenth time it played, I understood why it was inducing such hysteria. This was a cultural shift. After a frustrating near-decade of Gaga subverting expectations so thoroughly that she was actively working against her strengths and sabotaging her cultural ubiquity in the process, coupled with the most frightening era of political upheaval in our lifetimes, she was finally ready to save us and be Lady Gaga again. Booming synth, drag sensibilities, absurd thematic conceits- all was right in the world. For the first time in a long time, people had something to be hopeful about, and as I danced that night, I felt that hope, too.

5. “SHELLFISH MADEMOISELLE”- RÓISÍN MURPHY

“How dare you sentence me to a lifetime without dancing?”

As soon as that bass starts (the funkiest bassline in the history of music?) it’s like Róisín Murphy’s snake charming oboe, coaxing even the most stalwart curmudgeon onto the dancefloor and keeping them there, dancing frantically and involuntarily like the citizens of Strasbourg in 1518, trying their best to keep up with Murphy who isn’t even breaking a sweat, commanding the masses with a sultry remove, beckoning you closer, pulling you inexorably deeper into the mass of gyrating bodies and whispering in your ear “come and have a dance with yer mum.”

4. “PARTY 4 U”- CHARLI XCX

“I only threw this party for you...”

As PC Music / Bubblegum Bass / whatever you want to call it enters its second decade, Charli XCX proves not only that there’s still new textures to explore within it, but also that no one can exploit its artifice to get down to emotional truths like she can. How can she make something this slick sound so vulnerable? “I only threw this party for you” she croons over and over again over glorious syncopated synths that build exquisitely, reaching their climax only to immediately fall away, until it’s just her and her trusty autotune, pleading with the subject of the song to just come to the damn party. But they won’t, of course. They never do, do they?

3. “WAP”- CARDI B, FT. MEGAN THEE STALLION

“I want you to touch that lil’ dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat!”

Sometimes you just immediately know you’re living through a significant cultural moment. No, not COVID. I’m talking about the experience of hearing Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s instant classic “WAP” for the first time, a titanic meeting of the minds that finds both of them at the apex of their cultural influence and at their most undeniable. Can the argument be made that these two aren’t the two best rappers in the game right now? How could you hear this inspiredly filthy sex positive juggernaut, where Cardi and Megan are trading the sickest verses of their careers, and not think these two deserve the world?

2. “KEROSENE!”- YVES TUMOR

“I can be your baby in real life, sugar. I can live in your dreams.”

If the 2010′s were all about the pop-ification of all music, trading in live instrumentation in favor of polished synths, 2020 forcefully announced the return of the electric guitar when Yves Tumor and Diana Gordon’s back and forth lustfully submissive declarations of desire suddenly gave way to that nasty guitar rip lifted from Uriah Heep’s “Weep in Silence” to announce yet another cultural shift in a year chock full of them- rock and roll was, indeed, here to stay.

1. “I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME”- FIONA APPLE

“I move with the trees in the breeze, I know that time is elastic.”

We live and we learn. Years spent soul searching and on self-discovery shape us into better, smarter people, progressively knowing and understanding ourselves and the world around us more and more clearly, but Fiona Apple knows that none of that can quell the ferocious desire to be loved by someone. By anyone. By you, whoever that is. We can know that time is elastic and that when we’re gone all our particles will disband and disperse and then we’ll be back in the pulse, and we can know that none of this stuff actually matters, but still- we want, we want, we want.

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a-pretty-nerd · 4 years ago

Text

SO THERES THIS SCENARIO I CAN'T GET OUT OF MY HEAD:

Father!Tomura Shigaraki x Mother!reader

SFW, Wholesome content, Shigaraki being a family man!

Place: A high security prison somewhere. Time: I dont know, probably like 2 in the afternoon.

The heroes won, Shigaraki was thrown away to rot in prison for the hundreth-something time after years and years of cat and mouse.

Once again, the now aging man sits alone in the dark. His body held in place, sitting in a chair, by several machines intended to keep him at bay and unaware of his surroundings.

Outside his heavily guarded cell, security goes about their business, blissfully unaware.

Suddenly sirens begin to go off. Theres been a breach within the prison. Guards and other staff run around, trying to make sense in the panic.

Shigaraki smiles as he becomes aware of the mayhem.

The thick metal door of his cell opens with a loud thud and two figures stand in the doorway.

One a tall and muscular figure of a teenage boy.

The other, a smaller figure of a teenage girl.

"I'll get Dad, you be the lookout." The boy orders as he rushes into the cell.

"Why do I have to be the lookout? Why can't you do it!?" The girl objects as she follows him inside.

The two continue to loudly bicker as they work to set Shigaraki free.

"Hey you! Stop right there!" A man's voice calls from the doorway as he reaches for his gun.

Before the man can pull the trigger, he's met with a hard punch to the face. He's out within seconds.

"Hurry, there'll be more!" The boy turns and shouts.

"Don't rush me!" The girl yells back and she plants her palms on the machine holding her father captive.

The metal begins to warp and crumble under her. Slowly but surley setting Shigaraki free.

Eventually he wrenches his way free from the rotting mechanism and stretches with a loud grunt.

"You're late." He scolds them with a calm tone.

"We would have been on time if SOMEONE had woken up on time!" The boy yells at his sister.

"Shut up! My alarm didn't go off!"

"Quit fighting you two." Shigaraki comands as he garbs ahold of their wrists and pulls them into the cell before he places his palms just inches above the concrete floor below him.

"Get ready." He warns.

Later, that evening:

The hero, Deku, frustrated by the news that his mortal enemy has escaped from prison once again, looks over the paperwork in his hands.

"Are you sure this is right?" He asks the detective, again.

"We're certain. She's here. And by the looks of it, home alone."

"I just can't belive it. How have we never known of her before this?" Deku looks over the house sitting before them. The detective shrugs.

The house is placed discreetly in the suburbs. A well kept garden stretches out from behind a fence and gate. The whole thing makes Deku sick. Everything about it is just so, normal.

"Are you sure we can't bring her in?" He asks the detective. The man shakes his head.

"We don't have any evidence to suggest she has anything to do with it."

"But-"

"It's not a crime to be married to a criminal, Deku." He knocks politley on the door. When it finally opens, Midoriya's jaw goes slack.

There you stand, a kind smile stretched across your features as you wipe your hands with a rag. They stare at you for a moment in disbelief.

You're just so beautiful and so unassumingly wholesome. How could you be married to the world's most dangerous criminal?

When they don't say anything, you place your hands on your hip and give a smug look.

"That bastard slip through the cracks again?" You huff with a smile.

You let them in and sit them down at the kitchen table. You serve tea and snacks. Deku's heart races faster with every movement you make.

"You're welcome to search the place. I assure you I don't know where he is or what he's planning." You reassure as you sit down across the table from them. You watch the detective takes notes as you answer question after question.

"How long have you been married?"

"Twenty years."

"When was the last you saw your husband?"

"A few days before he was last caught."

"Has he contacted you before or since?"

"No. I never know when or where he's going to show up. He never calls. Sometimes he writes."

"He writes?"

"Yeah, I get letters from him occasionally."

"May we take a look at this letters?"

You pause and think about your answer. A blush forms on your cheeks as you answer.

"You're welcome to, but I think you'll find more than you bargained for." You chuckle.

Their attention is taken away from you when they hear a car pull up and the back door open and shut.

In walks a young man sharing a stricking resemblance to Shigaraki. He meets their gaze and freezes.

"Mom? Whats going on?" He asks as he approaches you. Standing tall behind your seat as his appearance grows more and more menacing towards Deku.

"This is our eldest." You tell the men.

"Is he out again?" Your son seems annoyed.

"He is. We were just wondering if you may have heard from him."

"No. We haven't. Now leave." He grips the back of the chair you sit in and grinds his teeth.

"Don't be rude." You tell him.

"You guys can't just barge in here and harass our family. We don't know, anything. We're not in on his shit." He growls behind you.

"Honey, please."

"No. They need to leave. NOW." Deku couldn't get out fast enough. The whole idea made him sick. Not only was Shigaraki on the loose again, but he had children, a whole family.

At this point Deku had children of his own to worry about. To think, Shigaraki wasn't so different from him in so many ways.

Weeks later, Shigaraki is still on the loose:

"I can't believe that idiot let them find you." Your eldest muttered in the passanger seat beside you.

"I'm surprised they hadn't found us sooner." You said as you glanced from the road to the gps.

"He's going to get you killed."

"You sound like my Dad. Grandpa would be proud."

"Why don't you leave him? He puts you in so much danger, he's never around, he's an asshole, a murderer-"

You slammed on the breaks, sending your unknowing son's head to gently slam against the glove compartment.

"Thats jackass! He's on his phone! Watch where you're going asshole!" You shouted at the car in front of you before you started driving again.

Your eldest son was always looking out for you. He was a momma's boy. He was smart, and caring, and protective. He was so much like his father, but you'd never tell him that. It'd only make him upset.

"Where exactly are we going anyways?" He finally pipped up after an hour of driving out of the city.

"The house isn't safe anymore. Now that the heroes know about us, we have to stay away for a little while."

"What? But they don't have any evidence-"

"That's not the point. It doesn't take evidence. I'm sure a warrant to search the property has already been approved. And if they don't find anything at the house, they'd take us in for further questioning and believe me, you don't want that." You warned him.

"But we don't know anything...right?" You fell silent. "Mom!"

"What!? You honestly think, even if I was uninvolved, they'd let us go? You think they'd let you, the son of Japan's most dangerous criminal, walk free?" You sighed. "Look, honey, I'm sorry. I know you never asked for this. This isn't your fight, I know. We've never expected you to be involved and I promise, as soon as everything blows over, we'll send you to that school."

His eyes lit up. He's always wanted to go away to school. Ever since his first year of high school, he's been interested in studying Science at this prestigious school across country.

"You mean it?" You nodded and held a hand out to pat his knee and give it a reassuring squeeze.

"Just be patient with us, alright?" A little farther and you had arrived at the destination. Middle of the woods, somewhere in the mountains. You checked and doubled checked the information in the letter he'd sent again.

Deep in the woods, there was a bunker hidden in the brush. You knocked on the bunker door, only to be greeted by a familiar face.

Well, a mask to be more specific.

"Mrs. Shigaraki." Mr. Compress smiled behind his mask.

"Hey old-timer." You smiled back and gave him a warm hug. It'd been so long since you'd seen the league.

"My goodness, how time flies. I don't suppose you remember me, do you?" He asked your son.

"Vaguely." He answered as they shared a firm hand shake.

"Are they here?" You asked.

"They're waiting for you in the parlour." You quickly made your way in the bunker, revealing itself to be a mansion in disguise as you made your way through.

Finally, you found them. Shigaraki stood tall, washed and dressed in a black turtle neck sweater and slacks. His hair, still long, framed his handsome face. He looked away from the twins, and turned to you. His heart leaped in his chest.

"Y/N." He whispered as you rant to him. He held his arms up to accept you as you threw yourself into his embrace He held you tight and rested his cheek on your head.

"I missed you." You told him with a smile that was so big it hurt.

"I missed you, love." He agreed and ran his hand up and down your back. You remember the days when this kind of affection was impossible for him.

Soon you felt two other hands on your back. The twins joined in to hug you both as your eldest wandered into the room. He paused at the sight and watched.

Tomura looked up at his son and gave a knowing look. He knew his oldest son, the one that was so much like him, had always had issues with him. He knew his absence was hard on him, and he knew no matter what he did, his son was still ashamed and embarrassed by him.

Regardless, he had always tried.

You remember the day when Tomura sent you away when he found out about the pregnancy. You remember how horrified and deeply afraid he was of becoming a parent. Hell, your relationship was a rollercoaster for him as it was. But by the time his son was born, he was determined to be better.

He was determined to be better for his family.

He reached out a hand to his son. He looked at his father, and thought for a moment. Without warning, a smaller hand, previously planted on your back, grabbed him and pulled him in. Your daughter had always found her older brother's resistance to be thoroughly annoying.

So there you are, reunited as a family for the first time in a long time. But definitely not the last time.

#mha #bnha #Tomura Shigaraki #Tomura Shigaraki x reader #Shigaraki #LoV #Father!Shigaraki x Mother!Reader #Wholesome Shigaraki

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utterlyhopeful-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Nightmare

Request from Anon: I’ve been suffering really bad dreams and nightmares that are leaving me shaken the next day and all. And basically, I would really like and appreciate Ezekiel comfort post these dreams. He doesn’t know what the dreams are, so possibly he feels angry and sad on behalf of the s/o when she reveals the truth. The dream topic is quite triggering (bluntly, it’s sexual assault).

If I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or you’d like to be tagged; please let me know!

MASTERLIST

Translations:

Eres mia y yo soy tuya -- You are mine & I am yours.

Siempre.Yo también mi amor. Yo también. -- Always, me too my love. Me too.

Ezekiel Reyes (Ez) x Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: TRIGGERING TOPIC, extensive mention of sexual assault, language, angst, mention of self-hatred. PLEASE don’t read any further if this is upsetting in any manner or form to you!!

******************************************************

---FLASHBACK---

It was always the same nightmare, the same abandoned alleyway, and the exact same strange man following her for the last ten minutes. She’d just left Lettie’s surprise birthday. Nothing could’ve wiped the smile off her face that day, unbeknownst to Y/N. Her heart accelerated uncertain of what to do next as her feet sprinted a second faster. Her skin tinged with heat; her eyes dilated in trepidation. She remembered that disturbing night like the back of her hand, never forgetting a spare detail. Nausea trounced through Y/N as she turned the next street corner.

Her vision soon blurred into shapeless blobs the nearer Y/N traveled home but the pitter patter of blatant footsteps haunted her. It was the world’s fucked adaptation of Groundhog’s Day dooming Y/N to repeat her horrid deliriums. Of course, details change a time or two but never enough to ease her panicked heart. Her own screams troubled her subconscious.

With her body aching for rest and her mind preoccupied elsewhere, Y/N begged for one peaceful night of sleep. But when her eyelids shut, another tale came to life lurking beneath the shadows. She never knew his name; the asshole who so vehemently manhandled her in a very public and humiliating tactic.

Her purple nails slashed ferociously at his skin imprinting shallow cuts against his shaggy suntanned skin. His grotesquely bulky hand gripped her neck temporarily blocking her airways, lifting Y/N momentary levitating. Fuck, fuck, fuck, Nooo. Rapid sobs clawed at her throat in a forceful manner. She gawked in horror as he devoured her every inch by creepy inch.

A predator claiming his kill. She’d loathed the sickening grin playing on his edge of his lips until he smashed the back of her head against the red-bricked wall. An unwillingly imprint stamped in her disturbing memory.

This time her vision embarked into dusky darkness similar to that of a curtain collapsing. Black spots prickled her advantageous points of her sight. Goosebumps trickled down her arms in response to the howling wind hitching her dress dangerously high. His callused fingers rubbed harshly stroking the outside of her lace underwear. Once the shock deteriorated, Y/N glowered blankly at the devilish black irises. A burst of energy tingled the tip of her fingers migrating within her muscles and bones protesting a final shout of defiance. Her ears resonated tortuously, her voice reverberated from her windpipe, and her knee left the ground in haste connecting perfectly with his groin.

“Ooof, you fuck---ing bitch.” The man coughed violently falling to the paved cement.

She planted her hands trivially atop his chest pushing with every ounce of strength thrusting him away from her.

Y/N gritted in pure fury. “Fucking asshole!”

Without a second glance Y/N ran, she sprinted until approaching Lindo’s ice cream parlor two three away. She’d never been so thankful for high school cross country in her entire life. Replaying her phone call to Ez overwhelmed her countless times a day, listening to the spooked man on the other end. The only man she’d grown to trust since the incident. It was also a call Ez couldn’t erase from his head listening to the dead tone. Never in a million years did Ez conjure hearing her disconnected tone. He found her easily enough sitting on the plastic chair near the window.

Her back hunched sitting far from human contact. Still, the moonlight reflected off her in the most radiant of ways. Effortlessly magnificent. The bell hummed as the door closed behind Ez. Y/N didn’t look up until two brown boots met her penetrating stare. The rest was history. Ezekiel was more committed and in love with her than ever. He placed a kiss on her forehead resting his chin on her head. There was no hiding the flinching shudder that overtook her before Y/N leaned into his touch.; calming and familiar. He brought her into his tattooed arms, his comforting fingers ran along her spine. He’d never hated silence so much than in that very moment.

---PRESENT---

Ez awoke from his slumber when Y/N started to mumble incoherently, her body whipped back and forth riddled with unreleased anxiety. Perspiration glistened along her exposed skin falling into droplets on their indigo/cobalt sheets. Her eyeballs bounced around her shut lids further worrying Ez. His left hand gently shook her arm hoping to stir, to throw him a damn sign, anything to know she was okay. Her nightmares were becoming a nightly occurrence. Just like lightening, Y/N bolted up chest heaving for fresh air. Her eyes scanned their room grasping she was home, with Ez. She whimpered burying her face into his neck. Wet streaks shot down his neck as tears specked her cheeks.

“Baby, Y/N; can you hear me?”

Y/N continued to glare straight refusing to glance at the angel by her side. Her room shifted into familiarity exhaling boisterously. Blood pressure returned to normal levels allowing her a moment of vital clarity.

A meek ‘Yes’ stumbled from her quiet lips.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? What’s eating at you baby girl?”

To this day, Y/N never mentioned what happened that night, the assault. Whether it was shame or humility, Y/N was still working through the motions. Past experiences taught her to maintain an open heart to healing but the impenetrable wall inside stopped her. obviously so, he knew something was up when he picked her up, but he never asked any questions. Shortly after they became lovers, their friendship strengthened far greater than either prepared for.

Soon, they became inseparable entangled in each other’s lives, and they were simply happy. Y/N was a hard book to crack, keeping her emotions in check, embracing rational thinking for any and all decisions. She was the only other woman to beat his GPA, challenge his testimonies, and explode into contagious laughter at the drop of a hat. Falling in love with Y/N was the easiest decision Ez made in the last ten years.

“I’m here. I’m here” chanted repeatedly, a whisper in the calm of night.

“Almost a year and a half ago…. I—” Y/N shuttered as her courage began to waver.

Ez cupped her face bringing them to eye level. His amber orbs calmed her, oozing protection and unconditional love.

“Go on…or well, don’t? The choice is completely yours.” Internally, his blood boiled with concern. Y/N was the bravest girl he’d ever encountered, it wasn’t like her to stay hush hush. Ezekiel swore he’d kill whoever scared the living shit out of her, to the bastard who rattled her bones. And, he definitely wasn’t a man to fall back on his promises.

Y/N’s rolled her eyes at his cuteness, Ez was the ying to her to yang. She’d never trusted someone the way she treated Ezekiel.

“I was aa-a-attacked. After Lettie’s 18th bday.”

Ez ripped the sheet from his body standing up, quickly pacing. How the fuck did he let this happen? Why hadn’t she opened up to him earlier? Question after question poked at his fragile ego breaking him all the while enraging him. Y/N scooted to his side engulfing into his fading heat. She remained quiet sulking in the suffocating silence of the room. Ezekiel stayed speechless.

“Don’t blame yourself, E.” Y/N quipped. “I know that look Ezekiel Reyes…” a hint of a smirk came out of the darkness.

“Blame myself? Of course, I do! I’m fucking furious!” His voice broke into heart shredding quakes; “I wasn’t there to protect you. The one thing I promised to fucking do. I’m so sorry, so sorry querida.”

“He didn’t—he almost raped me but didn’t. I kicked him in the balls and he dropped. If it hadn’t been for those few additional seconds, I’d be a goner. And that’s terrifying.”

Ez sat on the mattress, his knees brushing hers, his hand guided to the outskirts of her thigh squeezing lightly.

“If anything were to happen to you…I—I refuse to think about a life that doesn’t involve you. That fucking prick had the audacity to disrespect the Mayans unknowing of his repercussions. Did you recognize him? Any distinguishing features?”

“Not really… Caucasian with hideous gelled tips? Breath reeked of barbecue and he smelt of pleather and whiskey. Hideous snake tattoo draped on his forearm. He followed me from the restaurant. He was watching, waiting to get me alone. I’m just ...dealing with it. Finally getting around to the processing bit and it’s scary. This shit’s complicated and I didn’t want you think I was this weakling. So, I buried it so deep within me that it’s beginning to eat away at me edging closer to the surface.”

Ez leaned in finding her lips with ease kissing her with fervor. They stayed like that a few kisses longer before faintly parting. The space between them was minimal but enough to be grateful for.

“You are the opposite of weak. In fact, you’re the most determined and brilliant person I’ve ever laid eyes on. There is only one Y/N for me and I will stand diligently alongside her for as long as she’ll have me.”

“I love you, Reyes. Eres mia y yo soy tuya. Siempre.”

“Yo también mi amor. Yo también”

Ez and Y/N understood the difficult road ahead of them, Y/N’s agonizing memories, but he was proud of her. Proud of the woman who took a stand and fought like hell, choosing to share the comfortable pieces of her past life.

Her tone excluded downhearted sadness; “I’m sorry for coming in and fucking up your life.”

“Stop that. Stop right there. Goodness can be found sometimes in the middle of hell.”

Discreet snores told Ez she’d long fallen asleep. He laid them down holding her determinedly. Y/N cuddled into his warmth nuzzling his shoulder sheepishly sighing. His mahogany eyes grew heavy joining Y/N in a serene slumber. The crickets chirped at the summer’s heat worshiping the moon. The fire blazing in her dark and injured heart seemingly glowed around them like a moth a flame. To be alive at all is to have scars. But to love openly regardless of said scars; now that, that was life’s truest miracle.

~~~~~~~~

Tags: @ifoundmyhappythought @angelreyesgirl89 @carlaangel86 @imagineredwood @mayans-mc @reaperwalking @prospectfandom @emmaveale123 @peaky-marvel @kind-wolf @scorpio4dayzzz @starrynite7114 @breanime @whyisgmora @thegirlwhowritesfics @star017 @threeminutesoflife @gemini0410 @ly-canthrope

#mayans mc #mayans #my writing #ez x reader #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel x reader #ezekiel reyes x reader #fx #mayans imagine #mayans drabble #request #anon #mayans x reader #mayans mc x reader #angst #fanfiction #fanfic #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes

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comfy-whumpee · 5 years ago

Text

His Name Was Jax

TW: drugging.

His skin buzzes. It’s deeper than the aches and pains, deeper than the bruises, deeper than the bloody welts the batons leave on him. It buzzes with electric energy that he’s hardly ever able to get out. It buzzes in a way that fuels him, keeps him on his toes and creates friction to spark his anger. The anger is what’s keeping him alive.

The pasty asshole who’s holding him here comes by early in the morning. The others are curled into their little balls or stretched out on the floor, staring into space, weeping, sleeping, but not Jax. He’s up all night pacing, kicking the bars and generally being a nuisance. They’re treating him like the teachers at school used to treat him, ignoring him and waiting for him to tire himself out, but joke’s on them. He never does.

“Morning, fuckwaffle,” Jax says, leaning against the bars. “Got anything to eat?”

He doesn’t know why he bothers asking. Hoping against hope, maybe, that the fucker will give up trying to starve him. Predictably, he just shakes his head, glasses catching the light. He looks so fucking normal, like an unassuming, slightly overweight middle-aged man. Nothing like a literal fucking slave driver.

“You get what you earn, 392,” he says.

His mouth moves to correct on instinct, at this point. “My name is Jax.”

“Do you think you earned any food with your behaviour yesterday?”

Jax rolls a shoulder, feeling the pull on a beaten muscle. “Yeah, I did. Busted that fuckstick’s nose, didn’t I? I’d say that’s worth at least a granola bar.”

The granola bar thing is a bit of a joke, to be honest. He’s watched the Teacher hand fucking feed some of the others. Jax refuses to learn the numbers, so he thinks of them by their appearance mostly. Ginger cried hysterically for a week when they first came, and then the Teacher had gone into his cell one morning, and since then, silence. Fuzzy stare. Hand feeding. Jax knows there’s something in the water, he’s not an idiot, and it makes it hard to think at his normal speeds, but that’s never been a problem for Jax. He’s been on stuff to make him slow down for most of his life.

“You work for your food,” the Teacher says. He’s so fucking predictable, giving Jax the same lines over and over as if they’ll have a different outcome. “You didn’t work. It’s very simple.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jax walks away from the bars, flopping down into the corner. The others mostly have junk like blankets and even pillows, but not him. Just a bricked box with a barred door. “How about some water, then?”

“You earn your water, too.”

Jax snorts. “Even though it’s drugged?”

He hopes to get a reaction to that, but the Teacher doesn’t miss a beat. “Even though it’s drugged.”

Fuck. He does need the water though. “What do I have to do, then?”

“Kneel.”

Is that it? That’s not so bad. Jax can do that without losing any pride. He sits down, and then pulls his legs under him.

“Stay there.”

The door opens. Jax knows already that trying to get out only brings him directly into the reach of the guard waiting out of view, and he doesn’t fancy another run-in with that fucking sadist with the ponytail, so he stays put, arms crossed.

The Teacher takes the water bottle from his pocket. He’s always got one or two of those tiny can-sized bottles on him, conspicuously unsealed if you have eyes sharp enough to spot it. Whatever they use here, he can’t taste it, but it’s definitely there, dragging on his thoughts.

From a different pocket, a little pouch on that fucking utility belt he’s always wearing, the Teacher takes a little orange bottle. It’s so clearly, stereotypically a bottle of pills. They must be imported too, because pills don’t look like that in this country, but Jax doesn’t really care about the details. It’s some illegal shit packaged up as focus pills or whatever.

“I’m not taking that,” he says.

The Teacher ignores him. He opens the cap on the water and drops the pill in, reseals it, and then shakes it methodically. It looks really practised, like he probably does this every morning to twelve different bottles for each one of the poor fuckers he’s got captive. Under the Teacher’s hand, Jax watches the water cloud and then fade again as the pill disappears to almost nothing, just a faint drift of particles through the water that don’t look quite right. Easy to ignore, again, if you don’t have the sharp eye, and the mistrust, and instead the desperation to make you drink fucking anything, even from this dickweed’s hand.

Still, it won’t hurt, really, will it? It’s only one and he’s pretty sure Ginger across the hall is on at least three a day, and clearly they don’t realise how little it’s affecting Jax, so he might as well take at least half of the water. Half a pill, that’s basically nothing. It’s probably less than they normally put in the food.

The Teacher offers the bottle, and Jax snatches it.

Then the fucker gives a condescending smile, the kind of smile that says I knew you’d come around, you’re doing what I want now, and the anger comes back strong and hot and Jax launches the bottle at the opposite wall as hard as he can, hard enough that the cap explodes off and the contents, both water and unknowing fucking substance, spray and splash across the floor and wall in a great whoosh, and Jax laughs, a sharp, bitter sound, and then whoops. “Fuck you!” he shouts, jumping back to his feet, “Fuck you and this whole fucking place!”

The Teacher barely has time to brace himself before Jax is socking him in the stomach, and then he brings a knee to the groin, ducks an arm, and goes for a grapple. The Teacher is bigger and heavier than him, but he is nimble and he’s practised this kind of thing for years and this fucker doesn’t stand a chance. Jax pulls back again and punches, fist crashing into his jaw, and he’s rewarded with a choked groan of pain. The Teacher reaches out, swiping with one fist, but Jax is dancing now, and he dodges, backtracks towards the door, and then throws himself at the bastard boss of this place and begins pummelling hard fists into soft cheeks, feeling them slide and crush and screaming his rage out—

Hard hands lock around his upper arms, and Jax feels himself being pulled away – he struggles, twisting and trying to lock his legs around the Teacher, but he is dragged backwards through the air by someone stronger than him, much stronger, by that fucking guard with the little black ponytail and the blue eyes, and he is slammed against the wall with a force that smacks the air from his lungs and jars the fractures in his hips from the shitfucking baton lady, who is an even bigger sadist than the bastard holding him now.

“Get off me!” his mouth runs without his control, but he’s proud of that, that’s the anger coming out unfiltered by any fear or restraint the fuckers might beat into him. “Fuck you, jump in the fucking ocean you shitgobbling fuckbucket.”

“It was a sugar pill.”

The Teacher’s voice is calm and level and smug, so fucking smug, like he’s just won the national championship of being a smarmy bastard. Jax bares his teeth and doesn’t give a shit what kind of pill it was, it was worth it for the chance to knock out this guy’s teeth even if he didn’t make it.

“You had a chance to comply, 392—”

“Jax.”

“—But that time has passed.”

The guard’s hand goes into his hair and yanks his head back. Jax’s vision is taken over by a wash of painful stars and the grey ceiling and then another bottle, this time definitely cloudy and with a sports cap, and the pull on his hair yanks pain across his scalp as he tries to turn away, as another hand clamps over his nose.

He’s fucked. He knows he’s fucked at this point but that doesn’t stop him kicking his body away from the wall and searching for yield in the guard before him, to no avail – the grip stays, the body doesn’t respond to the beating of his feet, and when his lungs are fit to burst he gasps in air and the bottle is there, the Teacher’s fist crushing the water out into his mouth and down his throat and into his airway and spilling over his teeth and he coughs, chokes, swallows, swallows, swallows, and he’s fucked. He’s fucked.

#whump #defiant whumpee #manhandling #angry whumpee #my fic #jax #the teacher #arden #drugging #drugs tw #enslavement #beating #anger #manipulation

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greatneedtotakeanap · 4 years ago

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i binge read

the finale, episode 15 - the tower of nero

!!!SPOILER ALERT FOR THE TOWER OF NERO!!! this post under the cut will be completely riddled with spoilers, as it is a personal account of my views on the book as a whole.

it will be spoiled!!

(obviously.)

I’m almost too heartsick to write this omg. It’s been such a long, heartwarming journey, and it came to such an electrifying ending.

I’m quite proud of Apollo. I knew I was going to be, but the way he realized it, the way he realized everything... how Nero’s abuse mirrored Zeus’ and affected him just the same, how much of an asshole he’d been because of it. He made the conscious choice to change, and he decided he could love. He was capable of true love, he was capable of moving forward and being better. And he was. I was just,,, I was so proud of him. Seeing him mature was a really eye-opening experience, especially in this book, when he talked so much about the small complexities of Nero’s abuse, how every move was calculated and how it affected Meg. We’d seen wisps of discussions of abuse before, mostly in the lightning thief (smelly gabe) but we’ve never before gone into the complexities of emotional abuse. The way it was described was fantastically clear, in a way that undoubtedly painted Nero as the true villain, but also gave us the chance to see him try and convince his children that he was good. Apollo breaking down his every move was good for the audience to distinguish the meaning behind his words. Fantastically portrayed. The way it helped him realize his own abuse, too, was good.

And Meg. My sweet darling Meg. What an absolute baddie, I swear. She made the same decision - she went back to Nero to fight him, to test her own strength and power of will. Her decision to drop her rings and refuse to dual wield anymore was strange to me at the very beginning, but I understood it later. It was her refusing to use the weapons he forced her to use, to even defend herself against him. It was her turning her back on the methods he’d armed her with and deciding to take her own path. “The Beast is dead” is the rawest f-ing line in this entire novel, the Beast representing Nero’s psychological abuse. “I killed him” - she liberated herself by believing she was better. I’m so insanely proud of that girl, too. She’s come a long way as well.

Okay. After that analysis, let me just say:

THE GAYS WON.

I spent this entire book terrified that Will Solace was doomed. There was a line in the prophecy about the terrible ending of ‘Apollo’s flesh and blood’, and I figured that meant his offspring - his son, rather than his human form. I kept muttering to myself ‘Will’s gonna die Will’s gonna die and it’s gonna BREAK Nico’. I was just so worried. I didn’t think anyone, even William Andrew Solace, could survive Rick Riordan’s patented Blond Boy Curse.

But he was fine in the end! As fine as you can be. Solangelo boyfriends lived to fight another day. And their development as a couple was also quite nice. I loved their dynamic. We only saw a little of it in the hidden oracle. Though it was great there too, we were able to go more in depth and explore how they truly function. Nico’s dry sense of humor combined with his whole lord-of-the-darkness aesthetic x Will’s genuine compassion and joking nature combined with his glow-in-the-dark-ness was fantastic to see.

Speaking of Solangelo - they not only got stronger as a couple, but as individual people as well. To be completely honest, we really haven’t seen much in the way of Will Solace. He healed, he was nice, yeah, sure, but what about him? What was his personality like outside from other people? In this book we find out. He’s kind, compassionate, easily flustered, overly protective. He craves parental approval, hence him repeatedly referring to Apollo as ‘dad’ and being so watchful over him. He gets embarrassed when asked to glow on command and upset when people mistake him for a lamp. He’s impulsive and a little hypocritical - he follows his instincts (being led off into the tunnels by a random voice) but gets very worried when Nico pulls the same thing. He’s a fantastic character, and his contrasts to Nico and the rest of the ton crew were great.

Nico - he seriously was the hero of this book. Or at least the secondary hero. He saved them all so many times over - he took everyone through shadow travel away from the bulls, he met the troglodytes, saw an opportunity, prepared an offering to said troglodytes because he saw an opportunity, became an underground ambassador, later saved Apollo’s life again by turning a germanus into a skeleton. He led this quest, and you can pry that from my cold dead hands. And that one paragraph about him enduring all this shit?? MASTERFUL. He’s had such a boatload of trauma and still he stands. One of my very favorite consistent Nico traits is this: no matter where he is or what he’s doing or how he feels, he ALWAYS takes the chance to talk with those who feel alone, because he knows what it’s like to be truly fighting one’s battles alone and he’d never wish that on anyone. It’s consistent, too: him being the only one to talk to Hestia at the hearth in Camp Half Blood, him talking to and befriending Bob the Titan, him talking to the troglodytes. And I have really gotten to see his progression firsthand, sped up - I read the Titan’s Curse in my binge read series maybe two weeks ago, back when he was this hyperactive ten-year-old with a Mythomagic obsession and now he’s this prince of darkness saving people with an adorable glowstick boyfriend and man. I love this kid. If he wasn’t my favorite character in this universe, he is now.

Also, even though with this book Rick has closed the gateway to this world (sad), the end alluded to a possible journey through Tartarus again to look for what’s been calling him, but this time he’ll have Will. Rachel Dare even whispered a prophecy at the end, probably pointing to it (but we’ll never know for sure). Will and Nico through the depths of Tartarus - now that’s a series I’d want to read for sure. It’s really too bad we’ll never get to see it in canon. Sigh.

SPEAKING OF CANON.

Another way the gays have won: Piper Mclean.

She has a canon girlfriend!! We really struck gold. I figured she was aro//ace when reading the Burning Maze - her whole monologue about being forced into love - but it turns out she’s just wlw!! I love this, I love this. We seriously won with this book.

Other noteworthy thoughts I had while reading below:

- The scene with Apollo defeating Python and hanging on the edge of Chaos was great. Especially when the goddess Styx came out. I was wondering how all of his broken oaths would serve him and come back to haunt him. It was quite well portrayed. A serious rip to the Arrow of Dodona though. I always loved it,,, a lot. It made me laugh and sometimes grind my teeth in frustration, but it was always a nice presence.

- Apollo’s return to Olympus was better than anything I ever could have hoped for. I was really hoping that returning would give him a new insight, not just of being mortal, but of Zeus as well. And it did. It did! I’ve said it before but I am quite proud of him. His new perspective on the Olympians was refreshing. You can really see the change in narrative if you go back to the Hidden Oracle.

- It is always always always nice to see Sally Jackson. Woman of many talents, including novel writing, blue chocolate chip cookies, and excellent seven-layer dip. She was my favorite character at the beginning of this binge-reading frenzy (as stated in the first post). Now she is still very up there. Definitely top 5.

- Why does Estelle have Percy’s green eyes?? I thought Percy had his father’s eyes????

- Grover knew about Jason dying. If Grover was on the cross-country field trip with Percy and Annabeth, and they didn’t realize Jason was dead until they got to New Rome, then was he just sitting on Jason’s death this whole time??? Rip to Grover, he must have been seriously traumatized for THAT to have happened.

- The last two chapters were basically just Apollo making his rounds and wrapping everything up, so Percabeth isn’t just in a perpetual cross-country ride and Piper doesn’t live out her life forever in a grief-stricken taxi. I’m glad those chapters were there, though. Nice to see everybody again in their element.

Okay but you don’t understand the fear in my heart. I seriously thought Will Solace was a goner. I cried out of relief because he DIDN’T die. It just makes me love the two of them all the more.

This post has been way too long already, but I gotta add an obligatory outro - I read these books once as a little kid, and the past two weeks has been amazing getting back into them. It’s been magical and wonderful, falling in love with these characters, and I’m so sad to leave it.

#tower of nero #the tower of nero #ton spoilers #toa spoilers #tower of nero spoilers #nap binge reads #(the final episode)#wow #what a ride the past two weeks have been

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kirrtash · 5 years ago

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It’s only after their mother dies and they get in contact with the first, unfriendly, demons that Inuyasha finds out that the human’s obsession over fitting everyone in one gender it’s weird for them too. They have already learned to keep quiet about what they think about themselves. What their body is, and isn’t, to them, they don’t tell the humans in the castle. Inuyasha doesn’t even tell their mother.

It has been a few years since they stopped living in the castle, when they have again the occasion to meet an human, on a moonless night. That particular one, as every other, is immediately concerned with their appearance, assuming their gender without even letting them speak.

Inuyasha doesn’t feel particularly attached to one nor the other, on a good day doesn’t even think about it.

(On a bad day somebody just has to remind them, usually while trying to kill them, and aren’t they lucky?)

They don’t go near another human settling for years after that night. Those are safer than the forests and fields, at least when they are weak, but they don’t have it in themselves to deal with stupid humans and their stupid way of thinking.

In a way this hurts more than being half breed. Their mixed heritage is on plain sight for everyone to see, and there is no mistake to be made (with the exception of one night per month): one look at their ears and the story of their birth is on plain sight for everyone to deduce.

But the way humans expect them to adapt to their roles, to dance to this tune they don’t fit in, just after one look at their body, that’s worst. Humans and demons alike hate them for their blood, but both of them just ignore how they feel about their body. It’s just irrelevant.

So Inuyasha makes sure that it’s irrelevant for themselves too. In any case they don’t even have the words to explain it, so why bother? It’s not like they have someone to tell, and the most important thing right now it’s to survive.

They never get around telling Kikyo about this too. She barely accepted their mixed blood, Inuyasha is not sure she can take more. They don’t want to take the risk of another rejection. As for the sacrifice they are willing to face, it’s not that different from the other one they already accepted to make when she asked, just another part of their identity they will have to renounce to.

Kagome is strange. She doesn’t question them and the way they present themselves, doesn’t even seem to notice. The girl has bigger problems anyways, it’s her fault if them both are on this quest. But she always looks at them with a bit more intention when they slip, in the way they refer to themselves, when the hyper masculine terms they use out of habit, to comply with the image others have of them, to not raise questions, get stuck in their throat. She always notices.

She asks one night, when everyone else it’s sleeping. They have just met Sesshomaru again and Inuyasha is quite proud of their victory, even if in reality the bastard run away just before Tessaiga could break definitively. Inuyasha still counts it as victory.

“It’s something that I have noticed before, but why did he refer to you with neutral terms?”

The asshole has never had anything to say about their gender obviously, as it’s normal for a demon, but Inuyasha doesn’t really want to explain to her. They huff and try to dismiss the question with a vague gesture and a “whatever” but she just keeps waiting patiently, peering at them from under her eyelashes. They both know that the answer it’s not simple, and the question is bigger than it could look to a mere bystander.

Inuyasha takes a breath. She has been on their side for a while now, and they don’t want to lose her. But at the same time she has already told them how irrelevant their mixed blood is for her. No. Not irrelevant. A part of them. Just a part of who they are, as normal as their hands and eyes, something that makes them THEM. If she could accept that, then maybe, just maybe…

Inuyasha doesn’t know how to explain, but Kagome is patient. It’s like a flood. When dawn comes, and, how? When? She stops them, shakes Sango awake and quietly informs her that she and Inuyasha are going back to her time. She then calls for Inuyasha and they start walking away from the camp. As soon as they are out of ears’ reach, she resumes the conversation.

She looks among books and books in the public library. Inuyasha just stands aside, the hat flattening their ears, trying not to draw attention and not to be in her way. They didn’t even stop to her house to say hi to her family, she knew she didn’t have anything of what she was looking for there.

“There must be something! I have read a couple of things but I cannot remember where I found them again!” she looks possessed, and Inuyasha is not going to bother her.

She comes up with a few books and articles from magazines, and is eyeing critically the huge computer in the backroom, pondering if to search on that too, since the Higurashi family doesn’t have one.

Inuyasha is not really listening to her. They are scrolling through the written text, trying to make good use of what little reading abilities they have, and to interpret the futuristic language and culture. Their worldview is being thrown off right now.

If for demons gender (and now they know the difference between gender and sex, and gender expression too, isn’t that neat?) is inconsequential, humans 500 years in the future keep spending a lot of time thinking and talking about it. Still, the revelation is another one. Demons don’t care about gender, you can’t use it against them. Humans don’t care too, they know where they fit and it comes natural to them to abide the unwritten rules that concern the sociality. Despite this, here Inuyasha gets a glimpse of another world. These books give them a place, among others, give their struggle a name and a reason and companionship. They are not the only one. There are humans too, here, going through something that might, with a stretch of imagination, be considered similar to their experience.

Kagome takes some books back home, essays and narrative ones, and some vhs to see on the television. Her family is nowhere to be seen and they are back to her room. Inuyasha feels safe there, the day has already been a mess, and their head is still spinning. “I don’t know where to look for more, but we need to understand better, honestly Inuyasha, why didn’t you speak sooner?”

They know her temper is without fire, that she is just worried, but it hurts the same. She must see their look, the flattened ears, because she backtracks immediately. “I’m sorry, I can understand why, it was a stupid thing to say. It’s just… I want to help. I would like for you to tell to the others too, but it’s your call. I’m sure they will want to understand though. That’s why I need to find more…” she is off again, checking on the list she compiled while looking for materials, and Inuyasha watches her go in the direction of the stairs and the living room, still shell-shocked.

“I didn’t even ask you!” She seems to have realized something, her voice still audible from the other room “I’m so bad at this, I’m sorry! Which pronouns should I use?”

Inuyasha can’t help the laugh that escapes their lips, they don’t know what to answer. But they will find out. There are words out there for them, just waiting to be discovered. Their experience can be told, and damn them if they are not going to.

—

A disclaimer: I am a cisgender woman, so my knowledge and undersanding of genderqueer identities can only be a secondhand one. This to say that I hope that I have not offended anyone with this depiction of this identity, and if I have I am deeply sorry, since it was not my intention.

For something so short I really had trouble writing this. First my native language doesn’t have the option of singular them, and I never had any occasion for using it before, so I’m sorry if I made mistakes. Second, Inuyasha the character, in the anime, while referring to themselves, uses Ore, an highly masculine way of saying me, and I didn’t want ignore canon completely even if I played fast and lose with the timeline, since I don’t remember what happened when. Additionally, and I never looked into the language so I’m not sure, I suspect that there are A LOT of pronouns whit different nuances in the spectrum between masculine and feminine in the Japanese language. So I had to take in account three language shifts while writing this tiny little thing. I’d like to add that while il like to think that my personal knowledge on transgender and genderqueer identities is not that bad, I haven’t the faintest idea of what 199something Japan might knew about it, so I kept on the conservative side (considering they are still a really closed off country about LGBT+ issues, I feel that it’s the most realistic portrait)

I cannot help but think about Inuyasha and a nonbinary or genderqueer identity. Assuming that for demons gender is something much less regulated by social norms than for humans, and that because of their upbringing Inuyasha didn’t get to receive a positive and validating explanation of gender and sexuality by none of the two cultures, I suppose that (in the feudal era!) it would have created in them an even higher sense of isolation and oddness. That’s probably why I love the idea of Inuyasha going to the pride for the first time (first gay pride in Tokyo was in 1994…) and in general realize that they are not alone.

It is a deeply difficult and isolating situation, not having the words to describe, even to ourselves, our identity, and I am happy that the modern ways of connecting with each other are lessening this kind of isolation.

this was written for day 5 of @inuyashapridemonth2020

#inuyasha #inuyashapride2020 #my art #my writing #ops #I wrote something again #inuyasha pride month #nonbinary inuyasha

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