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aloesarchives · 8 months

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All That is Revealed(JJK One-shot)

TW/Warnings: Some angst but Fluff ending, minor profanity, MANGA SPOILERS FOR HIDDEN INVENTORY ARC, Possible OOC Toji/Megumi/and Satoru/ Toji and Satoru still having beef after 12 years, Reader feeling stressed, Megumi indirectly cockblocks Toji

A sequel to this headcanon

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Toji x Fem!/Mama! Reader, Megumi x Mama! Reader(platonic)

AU: Toji Lives AU

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.8k words

Summary: You finally tell your son and his friends about Satoru and Toji’s shared “history”.

It had only been a week since Megumi got cooked by his dad during their little practice sparring session, which ended with you breaking it up and reprimanding Toji for almost critically injuring his son. That is not what’s bothering Megumi, however. Well, okay, he left a little salty with a bruised pride from barely holding his own against his dad. But that’s beside the point.

What’s bothering him is what you said to him at the end of your conversations. After learning Toji was just playing with Megumi, not even using a fraction of his actual strength, Megumi asks you how truly powerful his dad is. Your only answer was, “Ask your teacher, Megumi.” You then left the school grounds without another word. What did you mean by that? Megumi had never seen his pompous teacher like this before. Satoru’s endless sweat bullets and fidgety hands looked out of character for him. He tried asking him the next day, but Satoru didn’t acknowledge the question and completely ignored it. However, Megumi noted Gojo’s increased stuttering and rapidly fluctuating curse energy. He didn’t have any luck with Geto-sensei either. Geto would give some sort of cryptic answer to Megumi’s question with a lopsided grin, but even reading between the lines was a pain for Megumi himself.

Though, Megumi couldn’t blame his teachers for avoiding his question. He is well aware that his family is not average, even by Jujutsu standards. His father, Toji, was seen as the black sheep of the entire Jujutsu society, a useless human with no trace of curse energy. But the whispers and hushed voices he heard were a different story. His notorious epithet of “Sorcerer killer” wasn’t something every sorcerer took lightly. From the reactions he’d seen about the talks of his dad, something wasn’t adding up. The disconcert and uneasiness radiated from his two special grade teachers at the mention of his father, not to mention many others having a sober expression when speaking about him. It was like an entire act missing from a volume, and Megumi needed to figure out why.

Since he couldn’t get it out of his teachers, he’ll go for the primary source itself, you. Yet, he was swamped with school and back-to-back missions every chance he had. So, he had no time to bring it up in the first place. It was gnawing at him for days, and he wasn’t the only one. Yuuji and Nobara were also curious about your vague statement and wanted answers. Seemingly more determined than Megumi himself. But it isn’t their fault since your vague answer sparked more questions than answers. Plus, on top of not knowing much about you either.

You were an enigma to the two students. They have seen you around campus but will be out of sight the next, leaving no trace other than your curse residuals behind. Yuuji and Nobara met you briefly a couple of times after the exchange event, only for Megumi to drag them away to leave you to your own devices. It also didn’t help them that Megumi was pretty reserved about personal details, especially ones involving family. Their only leads on you came from the mouths of other sorcerers and the school staff members. Their teacher, known to be a mortal deity, speaks highly of you with a pinch of fondness, which is strange since he never says that of anyone in such a manner. Not even to their other teacher, Suguru Geto, his best friend.

After constantly pestering and begging Megumi to tell more about his ethereal and alluring mother, Megumi decides it is now an excellent time to converse with you. For him, it’s killing two birds with one stone. His friends will finally stop bugging him about you, and he’ll get his answers. It was Thursday; the first years were preparing for a night mission. Gojo had told Megumi that you were coming to discuss recent curse activities and sorcerers' reports for the mouth. The students didn’t have to leave until 3:00pm, so he had time to spare. After their routine classes and training, Megumi begins seeking you out along with Yuuji and Nobara. With plenty of time before dispatching their mission, they searched the whole campus for you.

While walking through a corridor from one of the student lounges, the students hear voices from one of the nearby private rooms. Before Megumi could think, Divine Dog: Totality summoned itself and dragged Megumi to where the voices came from. Megumi didn’t know his shadows to summon themselves without his command. However, this has happened a few times, such as when you’re nearby, and they picked up your curse residuals. So, remembering that his shikigamis know your essence, he lets Totality pull him along with Yuuji and Nobara. He was proven right when your voice on the other side of the shogi door was from the other side. Totality wags its tail, pushing its master’s hand to open it before disappearing into the corridor’s shadows. Before he knocked, he could hear the different voices as well. There was Gojo-Sensei, Geto-Sensei, and— is that his dad’s voice too?

‘What the hell? Why is Dad here of all places?’ Megumi thought with his brows furrowing. He knows about the rule that Toji must always be with you on Jujutsu High grounds. He only comes to the school when he wants to tag along or you ask him to. It’s mainly the latter. Megumi snapped out of his thoughts when Nobara and Yuuji shook his shoulders to knock. He takes a deep breath before lightly tapping his knuckles on the door. There was a brief silence before your voice called out to them.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Megumi, Mom. I also brought Yuuji and Nobara, too.”

Upon hearing your son, you allowed them to come in. As the students came in, they spotted you in the room's layout. The light from the afternoon sun made the mahogany coffee table shine. Three black lounge sofas spaced to face each other, two on the opposite ends of the table while the other met the head. You sat on the head sofa with your legs crossed; Toji was on your left while Satoru and Suguru sat on the other two sofas. Satoru joins Suguru's side to make room for the kiddos to sit. You eye your son curiously, seeing his fidgeting fingers stick out his straight posture.

“What brings you three here? Something on your mind, Megumi?” You say tenderly, a soft affection for your son to feel comfortable.

“Yeah, Mom. . . It’s about–”

“Fushiguro-kun wants to know about your question from last week, (L/N)-Sensei!”

“Yeah, Fushiguro-sensei! Fushiguro has been moppy all week because of it. Would you so kindly answer his question, Fushiguro-Sensei?”

You paused from sipping your (favorite drink), looking at the trio with scrunched brows and a slight frown. Megumi reprimanded the two for speaking on his behalf before he returned to facing you, his fists unusually clenched in his lap.

“ Megumi, I’m sorry for giving you anxious thoughts and restless nights. I didn’t mean to do anything to hurt you; you know that, right? My son, what is it that you want to ask me? You said, reassuring your brooding son. You glanced at Toji, his face unchanging, but his eyes shared the same feeling. Your husband shrugged his shoulders at you, indicating he had no idea what was happening with Megumi. You direct your attention back to your son, hoping he will confide in you like always. Your son takes another deep breath to calm his nerves before speaking again.

“Last week, after Dad beat me, you said that he wasn’t even trying. So when I asked you how strong, you said ask Gojo-Sensei, and that was it. Unfortunately, Gojo-Sensei and Geto-Sensei didn’t answer me, so I wanted to ask you.”

You looked over at the two teachers who were once your students. Suguru shrugged with his hands out while Satoru whistled away with his hands behind his back, relaxing in his seat. You shook your head. You look back at your son with a soft smile.

“I see, so you had to come to the primary source. Well, don’t blame your teachers, Megumi. After all, this is a hard topic for them to discuss.”

The trio looked at each other, confused but curious in your answer. But Megumi was more confused since he had known the two teachers all his life.

“Mom, what are you implying?”

The air shifted, and tension settled in, though Nobara and Yuuji couldn’t feel it. Megumi knew what he was asking was going into a rough part of his parents' lives. Megumi may not be the brightest, but he’s far from dumb. He knows this is serious with what he knows about his father and how vague everyone has been. You were about to speak up if it weren’t for Satoru stepping in to give an answer to the young Fushiguro, albeit failing miserably as he was beating around the bush.

“Megumi-kun, how do I explain this. . . Toji-san, your father, he, erm, he actually–”

“Your father defeated Gojo-kun, Megumi.” You blatantly said, interrupting Satoru to save himself the embarrassment.

There were various reactions to your answer. Though Satoru was wearing his blindfold, you could sense his eyes widened as he refrained from talking further. Suguru and Toji choked on their own air. Yuuji and Nobara had surprised looks, mouths slightly open. But out of everyone, Megumi had the most emotional reaction. His fists clenched even harder, and his face etched in absolute flabbergast. He was completely floored by your answer. What intensified this reaction was the profound aura you gave off. Your posture was not stiff but firm, showing no sign of slack throughout your body. You set your cup down while uncrossing your legs so the heels of your shoes are flat on the ground. Megumi knew you were telling the truth. He could feel his blood start to rush throughout his body like his chest had been squeezed and forced the air out of his lungs.

“M-mom. . . In what way? And how?”

Though your eyes were severe, your soft smile never left your lips.

“I will try to explain everything to you, but there are many details that I have to give you a shortened version. I’m also speaking on behalf of your father. At the time, I was a part-time sorcerer with a full-time job in the real world. I only knew your father did freelance work with another person. I knew your father hunted curses for a check but not hits on someone. I also became a teacher at Jujutsu Tech so we could get by because my full-time job was cutting hours. Your father’s work paid well but wasn’t consistent, so we had some financial troubles. This caused your father to disappear for months at a time, leaving me to raise you and your sister alone.”

Mentioning the last part, Toji shifted in his seat to be more comfortable. It was futile because it was his attempt to respond to being reminded of one of his biggest regrets in life. Toji knew he had every right to feel shameful for his past actions. Still, it doesn’t change the fact he still gets hurt by them after 12 years. You gently reached out to place your hand on your husband’s as it was on your shoulder. Sensing his discomfort, you tried to soothe his thoughts with the gesture. He deflates slightly as your soft action gives ease, leaning his head to lay on your other shoulder. Your eyes never left Megumi’s as you resumed comforting his dad.

“The day after your Father’s disappearance, I got a significant assignment where I had to oversee and act as one of two guardians for a mission. The same one your teachers were assigned at the request of Tengan, Jujutsu society’s barrier guardian. Initially, they wanted to just have Satoru-kun and Suguru-kun do it. However, the nature of the mission needed some, let’s say, more cautious individuals, and that’s where Maho and I, a fellow sorcerer, were brought in.”

“Okay, but (L/N)-dono, we were careful and diligent if you or Maho-san didn’t come with us! Suguru and I would’ve handled it just fine!”

You raised a single eyebrow at the blindfolded fool, giving him an intense side-eye.

“Given your track record of forgetting to dematerialize veils and scooping out the perimeter beforehand, I could beg to differ. Plus, with how you were back then, your lack of self-awareness would’ve got you, AND Suguru, into situations that would have been completely avoidable.”

Everyone snickered at your comment, causing Satoru’s cheeks to be dusted over with a rosy color. Suguru even laughed at his expense when he should be backing up his best friend. Satoru whined at Suguru, and the two started to bicker with each other. You paid no mind to it as you used to it over the years.

“So what was the mission, Mom?” Megumi inquire

“Every couple of years or so, Tengen needs to merge with their chosen vessel called the star plasma vessel. The merging allows Tengen to not evolve past their humanity, maintaining a humanoid form. At the time, their chosen vessel was a girl named Riko Amanai. The mission was for Satoru and Suguru to escort her to Tengen to complete the merging. However, I was mainly assigned because a high-paying bounty was placed on Riko, so I had to help.”

“Do you know who placed it, Mom?” Megumi said, a little agitated at the person who made your mission a living hell.

Satoru and Suguru stared intently at you, wondering what you would say next. You glanced at the two and then your husband before inhaling to give you some air from the already tense room.

“The person… that placed the bounty on her, Megumi, was… was your father.”

At the mention of Toji, Megumi's face went from rage to repulsion in a matter of seconds. He looked at his father with absolute detest as Toji had regret written all over himself. Yuuji and Nobara felt like they were watching a soap opera. This is the most they have seen Megumi this reactive. They saw him as someone who kept his emotions in check, never letting too much spill out. However, seeing this version of him was unexpected but made them sympathetic since his life is more intertwined in the Jujutsu world than theirs.

“A cult member from a group that worshipped Tengen disagreed. He contacted Toji and Shui Kong, his freelance partner, to capture Riko. Dead or Alive. So Toji decided to place a bounty so others could wear us down. He didn’t, however, know I was on that mission. Nor was I even aware he was the one who placed the bounty.”

Each word you spoke carried a heaviness as you recalled the mission's events. You tried to include crucial details, having Satoru and Suguru talk occasionally. To know that it takes one mission to change everything was unbelievable. The first years, though shocked, were locked into the story. Many mixed emotions stirred within them as you retell the fable mission. Even though this happened long ago, speaking about this constantly reminded you of life’s unpredictability. It can be fulfilling, then cruel and unfair the next. As you continue, a heavy weight you haven’t felt in years creeps up as you nears the mission's climax. Getting to the fable fights that rocked the Jujutsu world forever.

The more you speak, the heavier the invisible weight becomes. The feeling of suffocation closing in. At the moment, you didn’t know why you were feeling this. But later on, you come to realize it came from the burden of having to tell your son the atrocities his own father committed, not just against the Jujutsu world, but against you as well. For as long as you can remember, you knew Megumi wasn’t always getting along with his dad. He was a mama’s boy through and through, a brother who always looked out for his older sister.

When it came to his dad, however, it was a mixed bag. Megumi does love his dad, but he doesn’t necessarily hate him. Even when Toji returned, he wasn’t forgiving of his presence like Tsumiki or open-minded like you. He was expecting his dad to vanish like before. Your heart aches to know your own son had that level of self-consciousness from a young age, meaning he and his sister were forced to grow up, all while you tried to raise them by yourself. It was clear that after 12 years, Megumi hadn’t entirely accepted his father.

Now came for you to reveal what his father had done to be so infamous. So you laid it out for them. Telling how Toji temporarily killed Gojo, fought and won against Suguru and Maho, and captured Riko. This happened when you only talked to Tengen for a few minutes, coming out of the chamber to see the chaos. Your eyes never left Megumi, watching to see how he was handling it. Oddly enough, he had an unreadable expression, but you know the rage that burned in his eyes. You can tell he was holding himself together. But if no people were around, he would have snapped at his father and lost all the patience he had accumulated over the years.

This obviously didn’t go unnoticed by the other adults in the room. Satoru and Suguru briefly observed Megumi, empathetic at his mother’s revelations. Unsurprising to them to see Megumi like this. After all, they were a part of the majority of his life, essentially seeing the boy grow up. The two knew he never wore his heart on his sleeve. The flurries of mixed emotions brewed in him like a storm. But his restraint was stronger, letting his eyes speak for themselves. Emphasizing their awareness of how much Megumi loves and respects you, he does not dare lash out because he knows it wasn’t your fault.

Toji had difficulty sparing Megumi a glance, the shame never leaving his body. The years of fatherhood have softened his hard exterior, not always bearing the cocky smirk he wore his single years. Like father like son, Toji had a blank expression, but his eyes held warmth and softness unlike any other to the blessing in his life, his son. He doesn’t blame Megumi if he gives him a spiteful look. If not for his filter, Megumi would denounce and never acknowledge Toji as his father. No matter the reassurance from you or Tsumiki, it can’t convince you to think otherwise. And he was okay with that reality.

Satoru made a backhanded remark at Toji in between your storytelling, which made Toji glare harshly at him. Suguru chided Satoru for his comment, which prompted Toji to throw one back with a smirk etched on his lips to highlight his scar. Megumi didn’t care to put up with his teacher and dad’s squabble. He was focusing on the memories you recited. He’ll leave the worrying to his classmates, who became a little on edge to see if a full-blown argument would break out. You, however, will not let any of it, considering the weight of your burden is already frustrating as it is.

“Satoru, Toji, please! Now’s not the time, and I’m not in the mood to deal with you two, so behave yourselves! Drop the pompous attitude, Satoru and Toji; this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t hung on beef with a couple of teenagers. Also, stop manspreading and sit up properly! That’s why you both have back pain from your ugly posture! Tsks,” You firmly command, staring them down individually.

The two immediately dropped their act, listening to your demand like soldiers getting reprimanded by their commander. Your tone made it to Suguru and the students because they subconsciously sat up in their seats. You sigh to try and ease the pressure of your burden caused. Surprisingly, it did help only a little as you finished the story. Speaking of Satoru’s enlightenment and newly awakened power, the dissolving of the cult group, and the eventual aftermath.

“In the end, your teachers defeated Toji. And before you ask, Riko Amanai and Kuroi survived. I rescued her and got her back on Jujutsu High grounds. The two actually live on Jujutsu Tech grounds but don’t leave the barrier often due to their safety, unfortunately.”

“So what happened to Dad afterward?” Megumi finally spoke up after sitting on the sidelines so his classmates could answer the asking.

“Your father was imprisoned, waiting for his execution. However, I pulled some strings and made a deal with the higher-ups in exchange for your father’s life. Satoru-kun did me a huge favor and came in clutch when talking to the higher-ups. In the end, your father’s execution was halted on the conditions he and I would have to abide by. The rest was history.”

You haven’t thought much about it, but this story-telling was just a conversation between you and Megumi. You forgot Yuuji and Nobara were there listening in, too. This dawned on you when they kept looking back at each other and Megumi. As much as you wanted to continue your over-sharing experience, this was a good place to stop, considering your son might not be mentally ready for the others. ‘That’s for another time.’

Before anyone could speak up, particularly Megumi, the door to the room slid open, revealing Maho, Akari, Nanako, and Mimiko. Maho glances around the room curiously before coughing into her hand.

“I’m sorry to break up your little conversation, y’all. But the first years need to get going on their night mission. Akari is here to take you three to the location now. Also, Suguru, the girls want to check out a new pop-up dessert stand while on patrol in the Taito ward.”

Suguru chuckles, standing up and straightening out his uniform. He bid you and Satoru bye while sending good luck the first years' way. Nanako started to whine that they’d be late queuing Suguru to get going. Once Suguru leaves, the first years begin to leave the room. You got up to stretch when you noticed Megumi stopping at the doorway. You start to regret telling Megumi all this because this may not allow him to focus on the mission. Putting his friends and the mission in danger.

Just as you were about to call for him, he hastily walked over and gave you a tight hug. Startled at first, you eventually returned with the same intensity. Even though Megumi was 15 years old, a young, proper man, you can’t help but see your little baby boy who always called out Mama. You softly pat his head and kiss his forehead before your son pulls away. Megumi looks at you with a soft smile he has always given since he was a young boy.

“I’ll be safe, Mom. Don’t worry, I’ll come back home in one piece.” Megumi reassured you.

“ Sweet, soft hum I know you will. Just promise me you, Yuuji, and Nobara will try to be careful.”

“Of course, Mom. We will.”

Toji grins at Megumi and nods when his son locks his eyes with him. You look over at the other two standing behind Megumi. They replied to you with a ‘Yes, Ma’am!’ in a saluting position. You laughed at their antics before shoeing them off to Akari for their mission. As their footsteps grew quiet, you relaxed your shoulders briefly before squaring them back up. You haven’t forgotten that Satoru was still in the room with you and Toji. He was still sitting, his signature grin gone and replaced with a firm line on his lips. You know he was peering up at you through his blindfold while Toji causally threw an arm around your shoulder.

“(L/N)-dono, did you purposely leave out the conditions of your deal with the higher-ups to Megumi-kun?”

“. . .Yes. My son has every right to know about what happened. But simultaneously, this is a matter to be shared with him alone, not when his other classmates are present. The aftermath of the Star Plamsa incident created a domino effect that thrust Megumi into this world. When I tell him everything, I want it so he’s not forced to put his guard up. I wish for him to be comfortable with his vulnerability to this reality our family is in. To tell there’s the possibility he could lose his parents will weigh heavily on him, and he’s already been through so much for his age.”

You attentively gaze down at Satoru. It wasn’t unusual for him to look out for you, to show his caring, almost vulnerable side. He knows you don’t like hiding truths from people, especially your children. So, for you not to tell the other details means something else that’s made you hesitant. He was right, as you revealed the other issue.

“I also don’t want to jeopardize Megumi’s relationship with Toji. I won’t force him to feel what he already has. But I at least want him to understand that his father loves his family more than anything, even though what Toji did was inexcusable. I just don’t want to put Megumi under pressure in front of other people to be this calm, reserved Sorcerer. I want my son to be present and comfortable asking me anything when I tell him. You know how Megumi is, Satoru.”

He simply nods at your answer before he stands up at his full 190 cm height. He pulls on his goofy grin, pulling a complete 180 from how he was mere minutes ago.

“Of course, (Y/N)-dono. I understand, given what Megumi-kun is like when he’s on missions. Anyway, I gotta meet with Yaga-san, or I’ll get yelled at again. I’ll see you later, (Y/N)-dono!”

Satoru walks out of the room, leaving you and your husband alone. It was quiet, the sound of nature only resonating in the room. Then you suddenly felt Toji’s arms wrapped around you firmly, laying his forehead on your shoulder. Gently grasp Toji’s forearms and rub them soothingly.

“I know it’s hard for you to come forward to tell Megs this, Hon. I’m sorry I couldn’t say my part. I'm still terrible at saying my words. Thank you for speaking in my place, (Y/N).” Toji vocalizes, his tenderness revealing itself in the confines of the sit-in room.

“I appreciate it, Honey. You know I always have your back like you have mine. But please know Megumi does care for you, Toji. He has his own way of showing it, that’s all.” You assured him.

“Yeah, I know. He doesn’t like to do those whole words of affirmation things. I get the kid.”

“Hm, where have I seen that before? Like father like son, I guess.” You feigned your curiosity at your husband.

This evokes a burst of laughter out of Toji as he turns you around while still holding you close. Looking at you like an absolute fool too deep in love.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you, (Y/N)? Come here, you.”

Toji dips his head, going for a kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed in response. You would have kept them closed if your phone hadn’t buzzed off in your pocket three times. You pulled away just as Toji was millimeters away from your lips. Toji groans as you check your phone to see who texted you.

“Who the hell is texting you right now–?” Toji asked in annoyance.

“It’s from Megumi, Dear. Give me a second.”

Toji grumbles, shoving his face in your neck to see what his son sent. You can feel your husband pouting, making you rub his head to calm him down. You read your son's texts that interrupted you and your husband’s intimate moment.

‘We’re at the location, Mom’

‘It doesn’t look bad, but I’ll still be careful.’

‘I’ll text you when we’re done, Mom.’

‘I love you, Mama❤️’

You cooed at Megumi’s text, sending your replies to him. Toji notices the texts and smiles as well. Megumi, indeed, was a mama’s boy; there is no denying it. Your sweet smile still graces your lovely lips as you look at your husband.

“Toji, stop pouting. I’ll give you all the kisses you want when we get home. I know how you are, you fiend.”

“What do you mean, Hon? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You give Toji the stare that causes him to put his hands up in defense while scratching the back of his head. You roll your eyes as you escape your buff husband’s grasp, walking towards the door.

“If we get groceries and you cook dinner tonight, I’ll let you have your way with me, Dear~. Tsumiki said she was staying at a friend’s house because they were studying for an exam tomorrow. She won’t be home until Friday afternoon.” You said in your suggestive tone, sending a wink to your husband over your shoulder.

Toji holds a mischievous smirk as he quickly walks over to follow you closely as you leave the grounds of Jujutsu Tech.

“Of course, Doll. Anything for you~.”

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ino-takumas-baggy-sweater · 9 months

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A Second Chance, A Father's Curse - Part 1 (Ryomen Sukuna X Reader)

This is part of my Royal AU, the first I'm writing for it, there may be inconsistencies between each different fic set within the universe including but not limited to which damn clan does Sukuna belong to, but I'm sure it'll be fine :))

also i hope the family tree kinda makes sense, i can make a separate post showing the different clans and their family trees if needed

Warnings: mentions of an affair, brief mentions of abuse but nothing explicit

Word count: 3.1k

When the boy first showed up everything had been good, a new son had been born into the Itadori clan, the royal family was stronger than ever. This boy threatened to bring all of that down simply by existing. Jin Itadori was not known for his mercy, often ruthlessly leading swathes of knights into battles and leaving none alive, but this boy was no ordinary enemy. His own son, illegitimate, but still his flesh and blood. His wife said nothing when he brought the screaming baby into the nursery that was only meant for one, placing him beside Yuji in his large crib.

Kaori Itadori simply accepted what had been given to her and raised the boy as her own, despite the neglect and clear favoritism shown from Jin to his alleged twin sons. The two were almost identical despite the fact they had different mothers, which was how the lie was able to be carried so easily through their lives. Ryomen knew, he had always known, and he’d hated almost everyone for it. The only people he couldn’t truly even pretend to hate were his adopted brothers, and he let everyone know this vehemently, shirking his duties and often hiding away from elaborate dinner parties or balls he did not want to attend.

Yuji’s heart broke for his brother, and of the five Itadori boys, only the eldest Choso knew of the predicament underlying the twins. The youngest, Eso and Kechizu, were born one after the other, three years apart, with significant health complications and therefore rarely appeared in public. The elder three were fiercely protective, especially Ryomen who’d had a taste of his father’s neglect and despised that Jin had turned it on his youngest sons. None of the three wanted to burden their younger brothers, they’d been told that the pair might not live to become adults, so they had always made sure the boys were well fed and happy.

Ryomen suffered in silence. His teachers could not quell his anger, the best sorcerers warned of his growing cursed energy levels, but nothing was ever done. Nothing really could be done. By the time he turned nineteen he was undoubtedly the strongest of the Itadori boys, and his father was adamantly trying to wed him off to a different kingdom. Ryomen didn’t care, the faster he got out of Khoccadia the better in his opinion. He spent his days training in combat with the knights, including the captains of both the Shadow and Blood units, Megumi Fushiguro, and Takuma Ino.

Megumi Fushiguro interested him, the man was his age, his twin brother’s personal bodyguard, and he had the inherited cursed technique of the Zenin clan, the royal family of a neighbouring kingdom. His unit, aptly named the Shadows, were a small close knit group of Shikigami summoners, led by a wielder of the undisputed king of Shikigami techniques. This made him both an outsider and a refugee, having been forced to prove his loyalty a thousand times over, including regaining the trust of the royal family after his technique was revealed during an attack on the kingdom where he had to unleash his power to protect Yuji.

The other captain, Takuma Ino, wasn’t as interesting or close to him, but still a formidable ally and opponent, having first trained under the royal sorcerer Kento Nanami, before his technique proved to be more useful on a battlefield than overseeing curses. Ryomen often found himself sitting with the pair post-sparring, looking out over the training grounds within the castle walls, and asking himself where he would go if he decided to run. He knew he wouldn’t get far, his cursed energy was much too unique, Nanami would be able to find him with no trouble. His only way out would be this arranged marriage, and he had to be sure it was far far away from here.

This is what eventually lead to Jin Itadori hosting a ball and inviting many of the leaders of nearby nations to attend with their daughters, royal, political, and otherwise. Few invites were sent out past the neighbouring nations, but Ryomen had to be sure, so he had insisted under the cover of lies that his father’s orders had the invitations sent further. When the day of the ball arrived, Ryomen was reluctantly dolled up in a luxurious maroon suit, his hair styled with earrings and cufflinks to match. When he met up with Choso and Yuji, he saw they were dressed similarly to him, but Yuji’s suit is a deep pink and Choso’s a dark purple.

“Don’t we just look a treat,” Ryomen huffed, reaching up and adjusting Yuji’s collar slightly. “They were chosen by mother,” Choso looks away and Ryomen finds himself almost apologising. It wasn’t her fault, she was a victim of the system just as he was, but he shakes it off. “You okay?” Yuji mumbles, giving his brother the same outfit once over. The twins had always known what would make each other look the best, Ryomen let him fuss with his hair a little before swatting his hands away. “I don’t think I’ve ever been okay, I can’t wait to get the hell out of here so I never have to see him again,” He growls. Choso checks his watch as they approach the upstairs entry to the ballroom, the laughter and chatter behind it dying down as someone announces their arrival.

“I hope you find someone,” Yuji squeezes his hand for a brief moment before Ryomen can pull away or protest, dropping his hand before the door swings open and the three of them are revealed to the eyes below. Choso in the centre with his brothers flanking, there are smiles of all kinds as they descend the stairs. Some genuine, some scheming, others that don’t quite reach the eyes of their owners.

Ryomen Itadori doesn’t get nervous, but in this moment he finds his eyes searching for Kaori Itadori. She returns his gaze from her place on the ballroom throne and nods once. This party is for him, it’s his ticket out of here, and it almost feels to him like she’s lending him her strength. The strength to do what she never could. When the three of them reach the bottom of the stairs, his brothers disperse into the crowd to find dance partners, and Ryomen finds himself alone surveying what he can see. The only clan tattoos he recognises around the edges are those belonging to the Zenin clan, the Gojo clan, the Kamo clan and that of the Creyarean district, which is a political power and not run by a royal or empirical clan.

There are a few tattoos he does not recognise, he assumes from further out on the continent, and one in particular draws his gaze. A kindly looking couple, king and queen, with matching filagree tattoos over their facial features, most prominent on their jawline, cheeks, across the nose and in the centre of their foreheads. No other family has tattoos that bold, the closest in comparison is the Kamo clan with a jagged X over the right eye, and he finds himself curious as to their origins. “Brother! I’d like you to meet someone,” Yuji’s voice suddenly cuts into his wandering thoughts and he scoffs, “Leave me alone Yuji,” He grunts, but his brother barges into his space, his mouth right next to his ear as he utters the words that could be Ryomen’s salvation.

“Her family comes from miles away, three kingdoms over!” Yuji hisses. His gaze flits to the girl who stands holding Yuji’s hand, looking like she’s just been dragged at a brisk Itadori walk across half the ballroom (Which she had been). His brother drops her hand as he steps back and presents her, “Allow me to introduce Y/n L/n, of the Iqorian Empire,” Unmarried, she does not bear her parents tattoos, but there are two thick black bands around both her wrists which could be a hint at early clan tattoos that don’t decorate the face.

She curtseys and he feels his demeanour soften slightly, taking her hand which still hovers unsure before her to press a light kiss to the back of it. He keeps his face painfully neutral as he studies her features, her e/c eyes traveling back up to meet his. “Lovely to meet you, Miss L/n, Ryomen Itadori,” He introduces himself politely, though he knows that she must already know who he is, given his brother has a tendency to babble. She uses her free hand to fix her h/c hair before giving him a polite smile, “Some party your parents cooked up, is the potential marriage for diplomatic purposes?” She asks. He clenches his jaw slightly, his gaze scanning the crowd as he instinctively pulls her slightly closer.

His father’s face is dark and sinister, his eyes locked on Ryomen but his mind elsewhere, “You could say that,” He replies, “But I would say it’s freedom,” Her eyes widen and he steels himself, she must be able to sense the years of neglect and abuse on him, he knows he reeks of it, but if she does she doesn’t mention it, “I see,” She murmurs, “Well, would you like to dance?” He looks at her like she’s grown an extra head for a moment, but Yuji punches his side and he blinks, “Yes yes, of course, that would be nice,” His words drift away and he becomes eternally grateful for the dancing lessons Kaori forced him to endure as he leads the girl out into the centre of the dance floor.

The night passes by quicker than he would have liked it to, despite stepping into the ballroom like a caged wolf with the taste of freedom on his tongue. He comes to learn from the girl his brother introduced to him that the royal couple he didn’t recognise, with the outlandish filagree tattoos, are her parents, and he is hooked from that moment on. You of course know there is something he is hiding, but his sudden interest in your clan tattoos brings a soft smile to your face as you look over to your parents. They seem to be overjoyed that you’ve caught the attention of the Itadori son up for grabs, but you know there’s more to it considering the fact that he should be the second in line, and yet is being married out of his family into another.

“I am certain we will be seeing one another again, Miss Y/n,” He murmurs as he presses one last kiss to the back of your hand, his fingers tracing one of the black lines on your wrist. You grab his arm before he can turn away, “Ryomen,” You murmur in response, “Sir, are you in trouble here?” He does not reply, his gaze is hard, but you feel a lack of response is enough for you to fill in the gaps.

He’s not welcome in his family, and you’re determined to get him out and then find out why, even if it means ruining any diplomatic relationship Iqoria could have with Khoccadia. You omit the fears you hold close to your chest when your parents demand to know how your night went, they were watching and already knew you were the only one Ryomen Itadori spent his night with. This is a golden opportunity, he is already well known throughout the continent as the strongest Itadori son, he would be a priceless addition to any family, and nobody else seems to be questioning the fact his father doesn’t seem to want him to stay.

A foolish decision, considering the fact his cursed energy swamped the entire ball from the moment he entered the room, just barely discernible from that of your parent’s royal sorcerer, Satoru Gojo, who came to meet with other royal sorcerers in attendance. You are reunited with Suguru Geto, your personal guard and the Captain of the Iqorian Guards, after conversing with your parents. He escorts you back to the room provided to you within the Itadori’s castle for the night, “I take it the night went well, your highness?” He asks as he follows you in.

You find yourself unable to respond, chewing on your thumbnail as you sit at the dresser, leaning your head on your free hand. Lost in thought you don’t hear him approach until his hand is on your shoulder, “What ails you my lady?” “He’s tormented,” You murmur, “Prince Ryomen, he’s trapped, and something is very wrong with this family,” His face reflected in the mirror is one of soft confusion, and you find you can’t hide anything from him. He’s trained you your whole life, and you trust him sometimes more than you trust your parents, he’s like a second brother to you, “I asked if he was in trouble, and I fear a lack of response or denial is enough to ascertain the danger, I must marry him if he is to survive with his humanity intact,”

Geto frowns and grips your shoulder slightly, “I will call for your maids, this stays between us,” He announces, “Sleep well your highness,” “Where are you going?” “To let your parents know I am in full support of this marriage, he’s incredibly strong after all,” His face is sly as a fox and you find yourself speechless, “He’ll be a great asset if we give him the chance,” Once he is gone you find comfort in the knowledge of his support, thus allowing you to slumber in peace.

When the morning arrives, you find yourself swept up in preparations for the wedding, which you find after questioning the closest maid is to be held that very day. His father must be desperate to get rid of him before he becomes a problem, and you’re more than willing to let Kaori Itadori and her maids along with yours fawn over you and dress you in the finest white dress you’ve ever seen. You’re understandably nervous, your parents dropped by only once that morning to tell you what you already knew about the conversation they shared with Ryomen’s parents, but they also said once the wedding was over you’d be leaving for home almost immediately.

This was, surprisingly, not the most shocking thing you’d heard all morning. It fell just behind the fact that it would be Geto and not your father who would be walking you down the aisle, a few of your closest maids acting as bridesmaids. This is to go along with a Khoccadian custom involving the parents of both spouses, while also incorporating the ‘giving away’ portion from Iqorian marriages. Ryomen’s mother wraps her arms around you quickly outside the throne room before she pushes a bouquet of red roses into your hands, tears in her eyes, “Take care of him,” She whispers, her eyes intense and so full of sadness you think you may cry too. You nod, words escaping you as you turn to the throne room, the music floating out at you different to the wedding music back home.

It dawns on you as the doors open to reveal you to the crowd that you don’t know Ryomen Itadori. You don’t know his favourite food, you don’t know his favourite hobbies, you don’t know what he likes in a partner, you don’t even know what his relationship with his brothers is like. It’s too late to wonder, as you clutch the bouquet in your hand and link your other arm with Geto who has just appeared at your side. His presence helps to calm your nerves, but you’re still antsy as you approach the front of the room where Ryomen waits for you, looking equally antsy but for a different reason.

You know he wants out, and you’re his ticket, you just have to get through the next hour of formalities. The crowd is never truly silent during your ceremony, there’s always a low hum of chatter, but it doesn’t disturb or deter the continuance of the ceremony. You can feel Jin Itadori’s eyes on you almost the entire time and you endeavour to ignore him as best you can, focusing on the feeling of Ryomen’s hands in yours. You take the time before and during vows to study his face, the way he scrunches his nose sometimes or crosses his eyes to make you smile. It works, and he squeezes your hands to add reassurance to the moment, until finally you’re pronounced as husband and wife, and without even a second thought or hesitation he pulls you into him, pressing his lips to yours.

You’re breathless, your hands clutching his biceps, barely hanging onto the threads of your discipline before he pulls you into him for a hug, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” He mutters against your ear, kissing the side of your head as the crowd cheers and his words are lost in the cacophony of sounds. You let your eyes speak a thousand words as you meet his gaze, smiling softly before finally speaking, “You’re safe now,” His shoulders relax as the two of you turn to walk back down the aisle. Once out of the throne room, his brothers are there to greet him, and Yuji hugs him tightly, “Brother…” He murmurs, “Don’t forget us, you understand?” He grips the back of Ryomen’s head and presses his forehead to his twins, “Promise me?”

Ryomen blinks sadly, “I’ll come back for you,” He whispers. The two younger boys crowd between the twins and Ryomen holds them, the taller one seems quite physically weak, and the shorter one has not opened his eyes, but he holds them close. “How does Ryomen L/n sound?” He asks softly, “Fitting?” Yuji smiles, “For you? It’s perfect,” Just before the two of you can be whisked away by your maids, he grabs his elder brother’s hand, “Choso,” He forces the man to look him in the eyes, “Look after them, don’t let them end up like him, or me for that matter,” He growls, “Swear on your life,”

Choso nods, “I swear on my life,” Ryomen nods one final time, “I hope we’re all better people when we see each other again,” He says, words meant only for his brothers that you catch while ushering your maids away from the moment. His hand on your back is the only warning you get before he’s nudging you along the tidal wave of people who head to the main entrance.

A grand exit, the staircase long, carriages await at the bottom, and Ryomen’s freedom. A price paid a thousand times over, a dream finally allowed to come true, and a man desperately clinging to the bare threads of his humanity. The world gives him a lifeline in the form of a girl second in line to her kingdom’s throne, and he finds he remembers why he endured staying alive all those years. His real family, his only family, his brothers - and maybe even revenge.

twins sukuna/itadori lives rent free in my head because of this app so here's my royal spin on it :) I hope you enjoyed

part 2 here!

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #yuji itadori #choso kamo #satoru gojo #megumi fushiguro #kento nanami #suguru geto #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x reader

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sad-not-glad · 9 months

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Just some ramblings

I love getting to see Bucky post recovery in fics. Getting the happy slow life he deserves, pretty little housewife (you) and a tiny chubby-cheeked baby. White picket fence, holidays, Barnses family reunions, because we all know Bucky would adore that. Welcoming a cat and another one of his mini-me’s, maybe two.

But what about after that? His oldest’s graduation, his youngest’s? I want Bucky who struggles to watch his babies move out, I want Bucky who is devastated to watch them leave but even happier to see them thrive. What about when he becomes a granddad?

So here is old man Bucky becoming a granddad after getting the domestic bliss he deserves.

It’s his birthday. What number, Bucky didn’t know, he stopped keeping track too long ago. Far more important was the roudy group of his grown children, scattered around the living room with their partners and childhood friends, extended family and the like. It’s been nothing short of perfect, great food and nice weather with all his favorite people shoved into one house.

All except for one, that is.

‘Little’ Eliana, the youngest of the bunch and the only girl. Even though she’s a happy and healthy 25 years old, she was still doted on by all the men, brothers and Bucky alike. She was the princess, the baby, the littlest duck in the row- despite being married for 3 years already. So it really shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was to him, but Bucky still saw a grinning little girl with dirty hands when he looked at her. Eliana arrived with husband in tow fashionably late, her present tucked away to the back to the pile amidst the chaos of being greeted. Bucky, being the birthday Dad, got the first and longest hug naturally. One that he savored, tucking his little girl into his arms and holding her close. He still couldn’t believe where life had taken him, finding his soulmate and settling down. Getting to watch his outstanding children grow and prosper in ways he never imagined, everything he never believed he deserved. But it was his anyways, and he had no idea just how much more amazing his life was about to become.

Every year Bucky insisted he didn’t need any gifts. He was the happiest he could imagine with just his family, all safe and sound in the same house. Yet every year, he got to unwrap a mounting pile of presents that just keep getting better. So far he got a new watch from his son, which was amazing. Something he had been really needing too. A cat tree from the other son, two new mugs, the softest blanket he had even felt. Slowly the pile went from huge, to decent, until there was only one left. Eliana’s, a tiny little black box topped with a cute golden ribbon. She always had adored her father’s arm, hours of her childhood spent marveling at the metal. Now the fascination presented itself in his gift wrapping, or the black wedding band on her finger. A mimic of the engraving he had done when he married you.

She passes it over with a nervous smile, immediately curling back into her husband’s side. Bucky took the gift with a grin and a thank you, settling back and carefully peeling away the paper. You’re watching over his shoulder when he opens the lid, tossing it to the side and revealing the contents within. A little folded square of fabric. He pulled it out, confusion clear on his face as he turned it over. He unfolded it, taking a second to process just what he was looking at.

A tiny baby onesie, and written across the front was ‘I’m not spoiled, my Granddad just loves me”. He blinked, turning it over in his hands and re-reading the words, then reading them again. You had already put together the dots, leaping from your spot next to him with a surprised shriek. For Bucky, it was taking a while to really set in, eyes locked on the little outfit in his hands.

His daughter was…pregnant?

He was going to be a grandfather?

…He’s going to be a grandfather!

The tears are falling before the poor man even realizes he’s crying. Because after everything he had done, all the pain and suffering caused, Bucky was lucky enough to now be a grandfather. He looked up when legs appearing in his blurry vision, and there she was. The girl he had read stories to every night, kissed her boo-boos and held her hand. The girl who he raised into a wonderful young woman, smiling at him with giddy excitement. Excitement over having a child of her own, creating her own family to love and cherish. His chest was practically bursting with emotions, all of them pouring out with his tears and laughter as he stood to sweep her in his arms again.

And needless to say, the onesie spoke the truth. If you think this man spoiled his children, it’s a whole other ball game with his grandkids. His wallet is their atm, stealing them away for weekends with Pop-Pop, giving them memories to cherish forever. He cries holding his first granddaughter after she’s born. He cries when the second and third come, and he’s inconsolable when your eldest son reveals the name of his own firstborn. Andrew Bucky Barnes, the fifth grandchild he gets to welcome.

Pop-pop who picks up his kiddos early from school just because he missed them

Pop-pop who never misses a thing. Holidays, birthdays, graduations.

Pop-pop who always has the best stories, the warmest hugs, and the fluffiest pet cat.

Pop-pop who all his grand-babies adore just as much as he adores them.

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anyxis · 2 months

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Pomefiore Mafia

Vil is publicly known as the Fairest Queen. After all, someone with as much beauty and perfection as him doesn’t deserve any other title. What people don’t know, however, is that everything needs a balance and, for all his perfection on the outside, he is the most disgusting person on the inside. Everyone who knows him personally wouldn’t refer to him as anything other than an unfortunately Beautiful Tyrant. His behaviour comes from his father. Don’t be mistaken, Eric Schoenheit is not a monster by any means, but he is indeed rich and Vil is his only child. After his wife passed away giving birth to his son, Eric dedicated his life to give his precious boy the world. Everything he desired, he would have. This did not do him any favours as he never outgrew it. Now, Vil is nothing short of a diva and, if he doesn’t get what he wants the exact way he wants it, you’re as good as dead. Vil never had to work for anything in his life. Like I said, his father would have given him the moon had he asked for it. In the exact same manner, when Vil wanted to take his father’s place as the leader of Pomefiore, he accepted immediately. However, this doesn’t mean that Vil was an idiot. Don’t ever mistake him for an incompetent because you will face a fate worse than death. No, Vil still grew watching his father working and he learned quite easily how to manipulate people into giving him what he wants. This combination made him unstoppable. If you didn’t fall to his silver lined words, you would to his silver lined bullets.

Rook is one of the things Vil wanted. He saw him work for Leona one day and decided he just had to have him. And so, he started to flirt with him, trying to get him to reveal his current situation in order to convince him more easily. He learned that Rook was part of a very big and very rich family. That he loved the thrill of the hunt and, because of this, had very little time for himself. These informations, however, weren’t coaxed out of him, as Vil thought. What Rook didn’t tell the pretty blonde was that he also tended to become very obsessive with things he liked. Had Vil not approached him, the chances of Rook kidnapping him to do whatever he wished to the pretty boy would have been extremely high. And so, it wasn’t hard at all to get Rook to leave Leona for Vil. Not that Leona minded. He had to admit he was quite freaked out by him and believed it to be good riddance. When he joined Pomefiore, he immediately became Vil’s right hand man, but, before that could happen, he needed a makeover. Vil refused to be seen in public with what might as well had been an animal. After helping make the new Rook, he ordered him to start taking time in making himself better, to which Rook had no problem obeying. After all, anything for his Queen. Following that, they were inseparable. They were always seen together to the point people started to speculate what might be going on between these two. However, no one ever dared question it, which was very wise. Had anyone tried, they would have quickly disappeared without so much as a trace.

Epel was yet another thing Vil wanted. However, he had also caught Rook’s eye way back before he joined Pomefiore. Indeed, Epel has tried to appeal to Leona, but he had never been given his chance due to his appearance. Pretty boy like him wouldn’t survive a week in the savanna. Or so they said. So, because of his petite stature and delicate features, Rook immediately took a liking to him. He kept following him around after Leona had turned him down. When Rook and Vil met for the first time and Vil decided to speak to him, he was actually planning on kidnapping Epel. So, one day, after joining Pomefiore, Rook asked Vil if they could get him. He had done everything his Queen had ever asked of him, surely he could ask one measly thing in return. Vil, at first, wasn’t too happy about it and even thought of killing the boy. He didn’t like the idea of sharing his hunter after all. But, after Rook told him everything he knew of Epel and showed all the pictures, Vil also took a liking to him. He wanted to take the poor little boy under his wing and show him the world. But, why would Epel attract Vil’s attention, you might ask? After all, what would a diva want with poor farmer boy with a bad mouth like him? Well, Vil wanted him for the exact same reason Leona didn’t. His appearance. He had learned early that the way you looked could change everything and that boy had the potential to become a menace. His little poisoned apple. When Epel was approached by Rook, he recognised him immediately and thought Leona had changed his mind. No need to say he was quite dejected when he found out he was being asked by Pomefiore instead. The pansy fancy pants did not interest him by any means, but money was money and he needed it. His grandma had fallen sick and he was struggling to take care of the farm on his own. Because of that, he had been trying to get the necessary funds to pay for the medical bills any other way and, having learned of the offer Leona had made Jack, he had wanted in on the deal. And so, he said he would only join if he was paid big numbers. He wouldn’t tie himself down to something dead when he needed money and fast. Money was, however, no object for Vil and Rook and, when they found out that was the only objection he had, they accepted with a blank check. He just had to choose the number and they would deliver. Anything for their sweet little boy. They also took it upon themselves to cover anything else that would be necessary to take care of his grandma and hired the necessary workers to keep the farm going even without Epel or his grandma. Needless to say, it was a deal set in gold.

#twisted wonderland #twst #mafia au #twst mafia #cw: violence #cw: killing #cw: kidnapping #pomefiore

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supernaturalscribe67 · 5 months

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Destiny

Words: 7,528

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Gabriel x Male!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Fluff, Slight Angst (if you squint), Language, Brotherly Drama/Teasing, Sexual Innuendos

Summary: (Y/N) Winchester never thought he would have to play a prominent role in the fight between Michael and Lucifer, but when Gabriel's attempt at convincing Sam and Dean to accept their destiny fails, (Y/N) is left pondering the situation at hand. What happens when Gabriel reveals the truth behind his disappearance from Heaven and his own role in the fight?

Heavily Inspired by S5.8 "Changing Channels"

Request:

Hey!! I was hoping you would be able to do this request.

It could feature hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff :)

Gabriel x Winchester!Reader

He could be trans or cis, up to you.

There was a younger Winchester brother, and with 3 full blooded Winchesters meant of course, a 3rd vessel. Gabriel's vessle. You both aren't keen on the idea of possession and end up falling for each other? Destiny had brought them together for battle but their hearts yearned for something else.

(something along those lines atleast)

@genekies

A/N: I've sat here for the last ten minutes staring at the Summary because my brain is non-existent right now. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this! Sorry it's so late! I also hope you don't mind that I changed the 'younger' Winchester to a middle Winchester~ I enjoyed writing something cute and fluffy after that heavy story I posted! Feedback is appreciated!

~ Much Love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

“Son of a bitch.”

“It’s him. It’s Doctor Sexy.”

“Nutcracker!”

“I’ve got genital herpes.”

(Y/N) blamed himself for this. Why he thought any hunt he and his brothers did would be normal was beyond him. When was anything the Winchesters did ever normal?

He could count on one hand the number of times he’d encountered tricksters, none of them pleasant. Still, something about this trickster was different. Slight abnormalities in the realm of possibilities, Sam, Dean, and Castiel all agreed, Castiel seeming to know more than them, but unable to voice his thoughts before being whisked away by said ‘trickster’. From there, the Winchester brothers were tossed from TV show to TV show, enduring humiliation and awkward conversation. It wasn’t until Sam was transformed into the Impala that it clicked.

It wasn’t a trickster. It was an angel.

That was how they ended up in an abandoned warehouse, the angel stood in the center of a ring of Holy Fire. (Y/N) tried to hide the exhaustion on his face that resulted from their hectic escapades. What he would kill to go back to their motel, crawl under the scratchy covers, and go to sleep.

“Where’s you get the Holy Oil?” The angel asked, a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

“Well, I guess you could say we pulled it out of Sam’s ass,” Dean replied, straight-faced.

Sam clenched his jaw and sent a death glare towards him. (Y/N) snickered, earning him the same glare. He pressed his lips together, mumbled a faint ‘sorry’ under his breath, and turned his attention back towards the wannabe trickster.

The smirk he had vanished. “Where’d I screw up?” He asked.

“You didn’t,” Sam shook his head. “Nobody gets a jump on Cas like you did.”

“It was the way you talked about Armageddon,” Dean explained.

“Meaning?” The angel furrowed his brows.

“Well, call it personal experience, but nobody gets that angry unless they’re talking about their own family.”

The angel looked away and lowered his head, a silent confirmation of their suspicions.

“So, which one are you?” Sam cocked his head to the side. “Grumpy, Sneezy, or Douchey?”

(Y/N) bit the inside of his cheeks, lowering his head to hide the small smile that appeared. Despite the gravity of the situation, he had to admit that Sam’s question was a little funny. He blamed it on him being tired. He was quick to erase the expression off his face before lifting his head. The angel’s gaze shifted over to Sam, and he hesitated for a moment.

“Gabriel, okay? They call me Gabriel.”

“The archangel?” Sam asked.

“Guilty.”

“Okay, Gabriel. How does an archangel become a trickster?” Dean questioned.

Gabriel shifted. “I consider it my own, private Witness Protection. I skipped out of Heaven, got a face transplant, and carved out my own little corner of the world. Until you three screwed it up,” his tone was full of irritation.

(Y/N), Sam, and Dean shared a glance, almost as if communicating telepathically with one another - something they had become accustomed to growing up. While they knew significant details about the conflict between the archangels Michael and Lucifer, it seemed, to them, that the situation ran a lot deeper than it originally appeared.

“So, boys, now what?” Gabriel’s voice broke them out of their trance. “Are we just going to stare at each other for the rest of eternity?”

Dean licked his lips. ‘Well, first of all, you’re going to bring Cas back from wherever you stashed him.”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yeah, or we’re going to dunk you in some Holy Oil and deep-fry ourselves an archangel.”

Gabriel clenched his jaw, looking over at Sam, then at (Y/N). All of them shared the same serious expression. Poking his tongue into his cheek, he raised a hand and snapped his fingers. Shuffling could be heard behind the trio as they turned their heads to see a disheveled Castiel. His hair was more ruffled than usual, and a small cut ran across the bridge of his nose. Blood was splattered on the collar of his trenchcoat. He stumbled slightly.

“Cas, you okay?” (Y/N) asked.

“I’m fine,” Castiel replied, his icy gaze locked on Gabriel. “Hello, Gabriel.”

Gabriel lowered his hand, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled tightly. “Hey, bro. How’s the search for Daddy going? Let me guess. Awful,” Gabriel’s tone was harsh.

The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. It was obvious that there was more going on in Heaven than the Winchesters were led to believe. Multiple sides mean multiple stories. Who knows what really happened?

“Alright, let’s get out of here. Sam, (Y/N)?” Dean slowly started to step towards the exit.

Sam was the first to move, while (Y/N) seemed hesitant. In the end, he, too, turned his back on Gabriel and made his way towards his brothers. Castiel soon followed.

“No,” Gabriel muttered. “Okay…hey, guys, so…” he stumbled over his words. “So what, huh? You’re just, you’re just gonna leave me here forever?”

When the group reached the door, they all turned back to him.

“No,” Dean began. “We’re not, because we don’t screw with people the way you do. And, for the record, this isn’t about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can’t be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family.”

Gabriel opened his mouth, as if to object, but stopped himself. He lowered his head in shame, turning his back to them. Wordlessly, Dean looked back, spotting a fire alarm on the wall. He easily broke the glass surrounding the alarm and pulled the handle. A shrill, faded sound echoed within the broken building. As Gabriel looked up, the aged sprinkler system burst open, showering him with cold water. Gabriel gazed at them, his face filled with defeat.

“Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you,” Dean called out over the sound of the alarm.

With that, Sam, Dean, and Castiel turned their backs one last time on Gabriel, walking out of the building. (Y/N), however, stayed put, his eyes locked onto Gabriel’s. He studied the look of hurt on his face, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt. A part of him wanted to say something, to turn around and provide him with some type of comfort. They didn’t know what Gabriel was going through, nor what had caused him to leave Heaven in the first place. Perhaps, all he needed was someone to be there. To allow him to be heard. (Y/N) could relate to that feeling. Alas, as the ring of Holy Fire began to dissipate, over the blaring sound of the alarm, he could hear the faint shout of his older brother calling out his name. (Y/N) looked at the warehouse door, the breeze from the early morning shifting his wetting hair, then back to Gabriel. For a moment, he cast an apologetic look his way before he, swiftly, left the building.

*~*

A couple of weeks after the incident with Gabriel, (Y/N) couldn’t seem to keep his thoughts at bay. Although his brothers had all since left the interaction behind them, refocusing their attention on their odd hunting jobs, (Y/N) couldn’t shake the reminder of the expression on Gabriel’s face. He had taken the time to carefully consider what Gabriel had been going through, or what he had been through before he had left Heaven. Sure, he wasn’t aware of the extent of it all, but he could sure sympathize with how it felt to be stuck between his brothers during their spats. Sam and Dean never threatened the sanctity of Heaven over their problems, but still.

(Y/N) had taken many walks since then, because sleep had been so easily unobtainable. On nights when Sam and Dean slept soundly on their motel room beds - or couch, depending on who lost in the coin toss - (Y/N) would slink out of the room into the night. Alternatively, in the morning, if sleep didn’t come after the first walk, he would go on another, ultimately stopping for breakfast on his way back to the motel to appease his brothers.

Sam and Dean were none the wiser.

On those walks, his mind would always shift to Gabriel and the predicament he was in. In a way, he disagreed with what Dean had said to Gabriel. But, with everything that was said by Gabriel, himself, he partially agreed with it as well. Why was Gabriel so adamant about Sam and Dean allowing Lucifer and Michael to take possession of them for a fight that he wasn’t even willing to fight himself? He felt so in the dark about the whole debacle. Although he wasn’t directly involved in it, he was still interested to know what the fate of his brothers could be. It was thoughts and questions like those that kept his mind racing in the early hours of the morning, making him unable to get an adequate amount of sleep.

That night was no different. The three of them had traveled to a town along the East Coast, following the clues of a possible Wendigo. The case had just started, and the interviews and clues left much to be desired. They weren’t even close to pinpointing the approximate area in the nearby woodland where it could reside. Sam and Dean were running thin, and (Y/N) was no help. Not with the way his mind had been racing lately. It wasn’t like he could help it, though. He tried, he did, and a part of him couldn’t see how Sam and Dean were able to concentrate whilst everything was going on in Heaven. He had always envied them for their sense of focus, something he lacked greatly at times. When he started the walks, clearing his mind was his initial goal, but going out on his own, in the dead of night, only seemed to make his thoughts louder.

The town was small, and barely had much of a park, just some cheap playground equipment that looked as if it needed to be updated and a small trail. (Y/N) was thankful for the benches that were laid along the path. Despite the park’s size, it had a beautiful view; a full panoramic of the deep, dark ocean past craggy cliffs, cut off by a steel fence. The ocean was loud and, despite the distance from the land to the sea, mist sprayed (Y/N)’s face faintly, painting his features with minuscule water droplets. He had worn a jacket that night. Even though it was surprisingly hot during the day, as soon as the sun dropped, the temperatures did as well.

(Y/N) had been sat on the bench for close to an hour. If he had to guess, it was nearly midnight. Not once had he been able to keep Gabriel out of his mind. Gabriel, the fight, Sam, and Dean, all took turns at the forefront of his brain, but Gabriel won most of the time. He always drifted to the sad, kicked puppy-dog look he had before he left. He couldn’t imagine what Gabriel had to go through. (Y/N) thought Sam and Dean were impossible to be with all the time, but he couldn’t fathom being near Michael and Lucifer as much as Gabriel must have. He must have been quite burnt out.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” A voice jerked (Y/N) from his train of thought.

(Y/N) jumped, eyes wide as he looked towards the direction of the voice. Stood, about a foot away from the bench, was Gabriel. His expression was soft, his brown hair partially damp, the locks illuminated slightly by the nearby street lamp. Once his heart rate began to return to normal, (Y/N) nodded and gestured towards the empty seat next to him.

“Sure,” he mumbled.

With a short nod, Gabriel shuffled over and sat down, leaning against the back of the bench. His legs were slightly spread and his hands were clasped together in his lap. For a moment, the two of them sat in silence, listening to the sound of the crashing waves from below. Even though Gabriel had done so much to the Winchesters as a part of his trickster ‘Witness Protection’, (Y/N) didn’t feel any resentment towards him, nor did he feel agitation, even with his proximity. A part of him thought he should be, that was how Dean would react, at least. Shouldn’t he be at least a little bit pissed? Perhaps it was the weeks of thinking, working the idea into his head that he and Gabriel could, potentially, have more in common than he originally thought. It could be that he was more forgiving than his brother. In the end, (Y/N) chalked it up to him being a great judge of character.

“How did you find me?” (Y/N) broke the silence.

“What?” Gabriel asked.

“How did you find me? These symbols, or whatever, Cas put on my ribs were supposed to stop angels from being able to find me. Or did he just tattoo my ribs for nothing?”

Gabriel let out a faint chuckle and shook his head. “I admit, you were hard to find. All I did, though, was follow the sound of your prayers. They were quieter than most, but they were still noticeable.”

(Y/N) looked over at Gabriel, confused. “Prayers? I didn’t pray to you.”

“I guess not technically. I know that wasn’t your intention half the time, but, every time you thought of me, asked those questions, made those statements, it was as if you did.”

(Y/N) pursed his lips and gave a faint nod. “I see…”

They were, once again, engulfed in silence as they stared out onto the water. No one said anything. Surprisingly, it was peaceful.

“I guess I should be asking why you found me. Why are you here, Gabriel?” (Y/N) asked.

Gabriel hesitated for a moment, fumbling with his fingers. “Look, I’m not good at this sort of thing, but…” he trailed. “I thought I should come here and apologize. For everything.”

(Y/N) looked over at Gabriel as he placed his hands into his jacket pockets and leaned back against the bench. “Shouldn’t you be apologizing to Sam and Dean, too?”

Gabriel snorted. “Are you kidding? Those two would probably stab me before I even had the chance to say anything.”

(Y/N) smirked. “I guess you’re right. The fact that you were practically hounding them to accept being Michael and Lucifer’s vessels doesn’t help your case either.”

“Yeah, I realized that I probably went about it the wrong way.”

“Probably?”

“Okay, I definitely went about it the wrong way.”

“That’s putting it lightly.” (Y/N) mumbled. “Why the fight, Gabriel? I mean, why now?”

Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. “Michael and Luci have been going at it for centuries. Even before this fight, they were at each other’s throats half the time.” he began to rub his fingers together. “But, this fight…it wasn’t originally supposed to only be those two.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Gabriel stuttered before he stood up. Slowly, he began to pace back and forth in front of (Y/N), looking between the ground and his hands. “You know what it’s like, right? Your brothers are arguing about the dumbest things and they’ve been going at it for a while, getting a little carried away, so you have to step in and, um,”

“Be the mediator?”

“Yeah! You have to try and calm them down so they don’t kill each other?”

“Well, yeah, I’ve had to do that plenty of times with Sam and Dean.”

“Right. Back then, I had to do the same thing with Michael and Luci. Sometimes it worked, and other times, not so much. With this fight, that’s what I was supposed to do.”

“Wait, this fight that they want to use Sam and Dean for? How’re you supposed to mediate that?”

“I was just supposed to make sure they didn’t actually kill each other. Try to get them to talk it out. I’ve always been good at that, so it would only make sense that I would take a crack at it this go around. However, since they would be at their full power in their vessels, the last thing that needed to happen was for them to turn on me, kill me, and then each other. So, to make sure I had enough power, I, also, have to have a vessel.”

Gabriel stopped pacing in front of him and finally faced him, his hands together in front of him. (Y/N) stared at him intently, eyes narrowed in concentration. It was as if Gabriel could see the gears working in his mind. If Michael needed a vessel, which was Dean, and Lucifer needed a vessel, which was Sam, then, that meant…

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Am I your vessel?” He breathed.

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” Gabriel smirked, although it wasn’t as confident as the one he had when he was covered by his trickster persona.

(Y/N)’s mouth sat agape. He was gobsmacked. His lips moved up and down as he tried to form words, but his mind nor mouth would work. It all made sense, though. Why would Sam and Dean be the only vessels? Why had he never considered that he, too, was destined to be one? It was clear as glass, yet, the thought never crossed his mind.

“You know, when you think about it, it kind of makes sense that you’re my vessel. I mean, you’re the mediator, I’m the mediator. You’re the middle child, I’m practically the middle child. There are, actually, a lot of similarities between you and me. So, it was a great pick,” Gabriel rambled, placing his hands on his hips.

(Y/N) help his hand up. “Gabriel, just…stop.”

Gabriel looked down and cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he pursed his lips.

(Y/N) sat there and attempted to wrap his head around the whole situation. His thoughts were foggy and the front of his head was starting to pound. He reached his hands up and began to massage his temples.

“So, what you’re saying,” (Y/N) let out a breathy chuckle. “Is that you, the archangel Gabriel, are supposed to use me as a mediator for your two power-hungry brothers who, may I remind you, are also archangels?”

Slowly, Gabriel nodded. “Basically.”

“And you think this is a good idea?”

“Absolutely not.”

“What?”

Gabriel sighed. “Look,” He returned to his spot on the bench next to (Y/N), his body now facing him. “The times when my mediation did work was when they had their smaller fights. Little bickers here and there. When Michael and Luci are really, really mad at each other, nothing can get between them. So, most likely, what would happen is I would need to get involved in the fight to stop them.”

“Oh, God,” (Y/N) grumbled and placed his face into his hands.

“But, believe me, that is the last thing I want to do. I mean, Michael and Luci, they’re both strong on their own, but, if they were to team up against me for trying to stop them, even with you as my vessel, I don’t stand a chance. It would be two against one.”

(Y/N) just nodded, running his hands down his face, his gaze returning to the cool, pounding waves. A chill ran down his spine. He hadn’t realized how cold he had gotten, what with the mix of wind and misty air.

“Why are you telling me this now?” He asked quietly. “Why wasn’t I told any of this before?”

“Well, when I went off the grid, everyone just assumed that it was my way of backing out of the fight. In a way, I guess they were right.”

“And back at the warehouse? Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Because I still had no intention of joining the fight. However, after what Dean had said to me…” Gabriel shook his head. “I realized that he was right. I am a coward. I tried to push your brothers into accepting their roles as vessels because I want this fight to be done and over with. I just wish the fight didn’t have to happen. I figured it would be wrong if I didn’t tell you now. You deserve to know.”

“Well, I appreciate that. And, for the record, I don’t want this fight to happen either. The last thing I want is my brothers to get involved in something that has nothing to do with them.”

“The fight’s gonna happen one way or another, and I thought getting your brothers to go along would be the best way to go about it. Once I listened to your prayers, though, I realized how it would affect you. I know you wouldn’t want to lose either one of your brothers, even though they can be assholes sometimes.”

(Y/N) snorted. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, unlike your brothers, mine can be caring and nice when they want to be.”

“Believe it or not, Michael and Luci both have the capability of being nice! I witnessed it firsthand.”

“Bullshit!”

“It’s not! Granted, they were a whole lot nicer when they were fledglings, kind of got a little rocky as they got older, but they could still be nice!”

“Wait, wait, wait, fledglings?”

“Yeah.”

“What’re fledglings?”

“Newborn angels.”

“So…baby angels?”

“In a sense,” Gabriel shrugged. A mischievous smirk then appeared at the corner of his lips. “Do you want to hear some embarrassing stories about when Michael and Luci were younger?”

“Of course I do,” (Y/N) sat back, turning his body to face Gabriel as well.

“Okay, but, in return, you have to tell me some embarrassing stories about your brothers.”

(Y/N) bit his lip as he contemplated the offer. Finally, he smirked. “Deal.”

For the next while, Gabriel and (Y/N) went back and forth, sharing their embarrassing stories from their abnormal families. They joked, laughed, and, overall, had a good time. Not only did it lighten the mood from the bombshell Gabriel had dropped, but it allowed them to grasp a basic understanding of their past and present lives.

There were a few things (Y/N) learned throughout their conversation. One; Gabriel and his brothers shared some scary similarities with the Winchesters in regards to mannerisms and attitudes. Two; Gabriel could talk for a millenia if he was given the opportunity. And three; (Y/N) felt oddly calm around Gabriel. It hadn’t even struck him how easily Gabriel was able to shift the conversation as smoothly as he did. (Y/N) wasn’t too sure how he could feel that way around him. As they sat there and talked, after everything that was said, and after everything that happened with the warehouse incident - he’ll never forget the nutcracker - he couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of comfort around him. There was something about Gabriel that filled (Y/N) with a sense of peace and belonging, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it as to why that was.

It wasn’t like he was complaining, though.

They talked until the moon sat near the far end of the sky. Unbeknownst to them, the two had begun to scoot closer to one another as the conversation continued, getting to the point where their knees and shoulders were touching. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward. Neither of them pulled away out of instinct. It felt right. It felt natural.

Gabriel droned on and on about, yet, another story when Lucifer was a young angel. He seemed to have more stories about him than he did of Michael. (Y/N) was quite the opposite. He had more stories about Dean than he did with Sam. Both of them laughed as Gabriel tried his best to continue.

“So - so Dad got angry because Lucifer kept letting the bugs out of their sanctuary, and -” Gabriel looked over at (Y/N), and his smile vanished.

(Y/N) glanced up at him, noticing the change of demeanor instantly. His smile, too, disappeared. “Is something wrong?”

As he kept his eye on him, Gabriel reached up and gently brushed his thumb against (Y/N)’s bottom lip. (Y/N) felt his cheeks heat up and his brows furrow in confusion.

“Your lips are blue,” Gabriel stated. He glanced up at the sky and his brows shot up. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize we had been out here so long.” Gabriel sat up.

“How long how we been out here?” (Y/N) dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

3:27 AM

“Oh shit,” he mumbled as he quickly stood up.

His legs and ass were completely numb, causing him to sway at the rapid movement. Gabriel was by his side in an instant, hands on his shoulders to steady him. They had been out together for, close to, four hours. No wonder (Y/N)’s lips were blue. He shivered, teeth chattering lightly. Once (Y/N) was able to stand on his own, Gabriel took off his jacket and draped it over (Y/N)’s shoulders. (Y/N) shook his head.

“Oh, no, Gabriel, it’s okay. I just need to get back to the motel.” He stuttered tiredly.

“I’m the reason you were out here for so long. Consider it a, um, token of my appreciation for talking to me,” Gabriel smiled sweetly.

(Y/N) returned the smile. “Well, thank you for keeping me company.”

“Let me take you back to the motel.”

“No. If Sam and Dean see you, they’ll kill you and then me.”

“Then I won’t let them see me.”

Without another word, Gabriel reached up and pressed his index and middle fingers against (Y/N)’s forehead. (Y/N) inhaled shakily and closed his eyes. One second, he was standing in the park, then, the next, he and Gabriel were standing in front of the Winchester’s motel room. He breathed a sigh of relief once he saw the faded numbers etched onto the door.

“Thank you,” he smiled and retrieved the key from his pocket.

“Anytime. And, uh, if you ever feel the need to talk again under better weather conditions, feel free to pray. When the prayers are sent directly to me, it’s a lot easier for me to hear.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Now go warm up.”

(Y/N) flashed Gabriel one last smile as he turned the key to the room and opened the door. Gabriel vanished.

Moonlight pooled in through the cracked door as (Y/N) crept into the room. He felt the warmth flood his face and hands as he entered. Despite the heavy jacket he had gone out with, having spent hours in the windy, misty park, he was bound to get cold eventually. He didn’t think he would get that cold, though.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see Sam sleeping soundly on his stomach, face nuzzled against the cheap pillow, and Dean sprawled out on the couch, legs and arms spread in uncomfortable positions that he would undoubtedly complain about the next day, mouth slightly open, and drool coating his chin and pillow. (Y/N) was thankful for his stealth ability.

Slowly, he made his way over to the unoccupied bed and crawled underneath the covers. Not bothering to change his clothes or take off his shoes, he nestled into the thick - yet somehow extremely thin - comforter. His eyes closed as soon as his head hit the pillow.

*~*

That was the best night’s sleep he had gotten in ages.

Well, it would have been, had he not been awoken by a flying pillow to the face.

(Y/N) groaned as he opened his eyes ever so slightly. The sunlight beamed in through the window, caressing his skin, and he hated it. He glanced tiredly in the direction that the pillow came from and found Dean with an amused grin spread across his lips.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Dean greeted.

“Fuck off,” (Y/N) grunted as he grabbed the pillow and chucked it lazily back at him. He missed terribly.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Sam teased as he sat a cup of steaming coffee on the nightstand next to (Y/N).

“Thanks,” he mumbled and sat up. “And I just got a pillow thrown at my face, am I supposed to jump for joy and sing Kumbaya?”

“Are you sure it’s the pillow and has nothing to do with you getting back so late?” Dean quirked a brow.

(Y/N) went to reach for the coffee cup, but stopped himself. He glanced at Dean, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that?”

“Well, one, you’re wearing the exact same thing you were wearing yesterday, plus you wore your shoes to bed. Two, I heard you getting back last night,”

“Bullshit. You were passed out.”

“Do you realize how loud you stumbled in? I’m surprised Sammy didn’t wake up because of it. My third point, though,” Dean pointed down to his brother’s chest. “That’s not your jacket. So…did you get lucky?”

(Y/N) looked down at himself and his brows raised. He was still wearing Gabriel’s jacket. He had been so tired and cold last night that he had completely forgotten to take it off or even give it back. He reached up and played with the collar gently. He had to remember to thank Gabriel for giving it to him.

Oh, wait, prayers! Thank you for the jacket, Gabriel!

“Well?” Dean pressed.

“Huh?” (Y/N) looked over at him.

“Did you get lucky?”

(Y/N) snorted. “If I got lucky, do you think I would be here right now?”

“Not unless it was bad.”

“Would that mean I still got ‘lucky’ if it was bad? What kind of luck is that?”

“You’re dodging the question.”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “No, Dean, I didn’t get lucky.”

“Then who’d you meet?” Sam asked.

“Why does it matter?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Because you’re smiling,” Dean pointed out, taking a sip of his coffee. “And you don’t smile like that normally. It’s kind of freaky.”

“Oh, fuck off, Dean,”

(Y/N) hadn’t even realized he had been smiling, but he could hear it in his voice. Dean was right, it had been ages since he had smiled like that. His cheeks were starting to hurt. He reached over, took a sip of his coffee, then put it down. He stood up from his spot on the bed and stretched his aching muscles.

“So,” Dean pursed his lips. “Who was it?”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you, Dean?”

“Nope,” Dean popped.

(Y/N) shook his head. “It was just this guy that I met at the bar. He bought me a drink, we sat and talked and, when the bar closed, we went to the nearest park and continued our talk.”

Dean’s smirk faltered and was replaced with a frown. “That’s it? You just…talked?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) shrugged.

“You’re more boring than Sam,”

“Hey!” Sam exclaimed.

“What do you want me to say, Dean? ‘I found this guy at the bar, we went to the park, I gave him head, he gave me a twenty, said ‘no homo’, and walked away’?” (Y/N) asked.

“Well, that would have been a hell of a lot more entertaining than ‘we just talked’.”

(Y/N) waved him off. “Whatever,” he mumbled, then kicked his shoes off.

Sam took a sip of his coffee and cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable. We’re gonna go look for that Wendigo.”

“I’m taking a shower before we go, so…” (Y/N) stuck his tongue out at Sam.

Sam smirked and shook his head as (Y/N) gathered some of his clothes from his duffel bag. Without another word, he vanished into the bathroom.

*~*

(Y/N) was sick for a week after that. As it turns out, cold air and wet hair don’t necessarily mix well. At first, he tried to push through it, but fatigue and a sore throat caught up to him and left him on research duty for the duration of the Wendigo hunt. During that time, whenever Sam and Dean were out looking for clues, leaving him alone in the stuffy motel room, he would pray to Gabriel. Gabriel would be quick to respond.

The two would sit and talk for hours, idle chit-chat here and there, and would always seem to dance around the topic of the fight one way or another. Those talks continued well after (Y/N) felt better and the Wendigo hunt concluded. (Y/N) resumed his nightly walks, and Gabriel would accompany him. In the mornings, when Sam and Dean would occasionally catch onto (Y/N)’s disappearing acts, he would play it off as a spontaneous trip to the local bar scene, fabricating stories about meeting a dreamy man he would talk to or go back to his place. It wasn’t a complete lie, so he didn’t feel as bad when he told them.

As the months went on, (Y/N) could feel himself growing fonder of Gabriel. It was a strong feeling. Is that what love felt like? He could only assume. Yet, the feeling was more than that. He felt connected to him in a much stronger sense of the word. A spiritual sense, perhaps? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the cause of those feelings, but the last thing he was going to do was fight himself on them, despite how obvious it was that his brothers would disapprove of his relationship with Gabriel. That’s what secrets were for. He had gone long enough without telling them, what’s a couple more months or years?

Whenever they were together, (Y/N) felt whole, as if a lost piece of a puzzle he didn’t even know he had found its way to him. When he was with his brothers, or by himself, he found his mind constantly shifting to thoughts of Gabriel. Of what they would talk about, of Gabriel’s smile, of the way his stomach would turn whenever they stood or sat close to one another. He would crave his presence, desperate to hear the sound of his voice. It was killing him, slowly, from the inside out, and he knew if he didn’t say anything soon, he would combust. He had to tell Gabriel his feelings.

One thing he loved about small towns was the lack of artificial lights. Sure, there were dull street lamps scattered around that looked as if they needed to be changed years ago, but the absence of skyscrapers and people, overall, meant not much was needed to illuminate the roads. Locals knew them like the back of their hand anyway. With the minimal light, almost anywhere in town, you could see the stars that decorated the night sky. If you wanted, you could pick out each constellation. Orion’s Belt and the Big Dipper were rather prominent that night.

There were several smaller parks in town, but the biggest sat in the middle of downtown. It wasn’t used as a children’s area as much as a casual gathering ground. (Y/N) could imagine dogs in the grass and elderly couples walking arm-in-arm during the daylight hours. By night, it was abandoned, the distant sound of country music playing from the only local bar. It was the perfect place for him and Gabriel to meet.

They sat on a bench in the middle of the park, heads tilted back as they stared at the stars. Their sides and legs were pressed together, and, for the first time in a while, they said nothing. Normally, their meetings were filled with lively conversation from the moment they saw each other to the moment they parted. (Y/N) had to wonder if Gabriel could tell that he wanted to have a serious discussion. Perhaps he had a lot on his mind. Or, perhaps, Gabriel was too busy reading (Y/N)’s to say anything. Regardless, they had been sat there for close to half an hour without as much as a single word to each other. (Y/N) knew just sitting there wasn’t going to do any good. He had to bite the bullet and say something.

“Gabriel?” He started, his voice coming out small and quiet.

Gabriel hummed. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,”

(Y/N) hesitated. “Well, first of all, I just wanted to say that I like spending time with you.” He began to fiddle with his fingers. “And I don’t want what I’m about to ask to make our meetings stop.”

“Honestly, I think, at this point, the only thing that you can ask to make our meetings stop is ‘Hey, can our meetings stop?’.”

(Y/N) chuckled lightly. “Gabe, I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he smirked.

“Well, um…” he paused. “Do you ever feel like we’re connected in other ways?”

Gabriel furrowed his brows. He turned his body to face (Y/N), rested his elbow on the back of the bench, and placed his cheek into his hand. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. I mean, it feels like…more.”

Gabriel studied (Y/N)’s face, noticing his lack of eye contact. He stayed quiet for a moment, and (Y/N) could feel the anxiety building inside of him. He knew he did a piss poor job at explaining what he meant, but it was the best he could come up with. Slowly, Gabriel smirked.

“You have a crush on me, don’t you?” He teased.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened and the heat rose to his cheeks. He glanced over at Gabriel, then back down at his lap.

“I, well…I’m not…I- that’s not the point, okay!?” (Y/N) shook his head. “The point is that it doesn’t feel like just a crush to me. It feels like an even deeper connection than that. Like something about our souls and- nevermind, this just sounds stupid,” his shoulders deflated in defeat.

Gabriel waved his hands and shook his head. “Hey, hey, it’s not stupid, alright? I get what you’re saying. You feel as if we’re connected by something other than you just being my vessel.”

(Y/N) nodded and let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, exactly.”

“I feel it, too.”

“You do?”

“I mean, yeah,” Gabriel folded his hands in his lap. “I felt that when we first saw each other, even before the warehouse. Then, everything with your brothers happened, and we met again, and, still, I felt that connection.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought I was looking too hard into it. I started thinking that, maybe, the connection was all in my head. That it was, truly, just our connection by you being my vessel. When Dean said what he did about me being too afraid to face my family, I thought no one would understand my point of view on the fight. What I’ve had to go through being related to Michael and Lucifer. Then, you started to pray to me, and I knew that you understood me. That’s what made me come find you in the first place. Once we were alone, I felt this sense of…peace. I hate to admit it, but I feel like I can barely go a single day without wanting to see you. Without needing to see you. I knew it was more at that point.”

(Y/N)’s eyes were on Gabriel as he listened intently to what he was saying. He shook his head. “I feel the same way. It’s almost as if, I don’t know, I can’t breathe when you’re not around.”

“Well, please don’t stop on my account.”

“Stop it, we’re having a serious moment,” (Y/N) slapped his arm.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gabriel smirked. “I mean, as cliche as it sounds, it feels, almost as if we were meant for each other, right? Like we were meant to be together? Almost as if it was more than you being my vessel that bought us together.”

Gabriel reached over and grabbed (Y/N)’s hand, rubbing the side of it gently with his thumb. (Y/N) looked into Gabriel’s eyes, and he felt his heart soar. He reached up and caressed his cheek before they both leaned in, their lips fitting together perfectly in a sweet, loving kiss. Their eyes closed, and they both melted into a deep, sensual embrace. Almost immediately, all of the stress and worry seemingly melted away, replaced with a sense of belonging. A sense of closeness.

When they pulled back, they looked into each other’s eyes once more. A small smile creased the corner of (Y/N)’s lips.

“You’re right, it is pretty cheesy.” He whispered, his thumb tracing circles around Gabriel’s cheekbone.

Gabriel cocked a brow. “I thought we were having a serious conversation. Why do you get to make quips?”

“It’s kind of hard not to when I’m around you.” (Y/N) pressed his forehead against Gabriel’s.

Gabriel chuckled. “I guess I’m rubbing off on you, aren’t I?” He moved his hands to (Y/N)’s hips.

“I don’t see that as a bad thing.”

They sat together and enjoyed the peaceful quiet of their embrace. (Y/N) never felt more relaxed in his entire life, and he wanted to savor every moment he had with Gabriel.

Then, his mind started to drift. Drift to the fight, the battle between Michael and Lucifer, and to Sam and Dean. Gabriel had done such a good job at keeping him distracted from all the chaos that surrounded him that he hadn’t even had a chance to consider what could happen with the fight now that he and Gabriel were involved. Neither of them wanted to participate in the fight, but what would happen if they didn’t? Who would win? Would he lose one, or possibly both, of his brothers? If they did get involved in the fight, was there a possibility that he and Gabriel would lose each other? Did they even stand a chance to win against Michael and Lucifer if things were to turn ugly? Was there a chance that he could lose Gabriel even without being in the fight itself?

Gabriel reached a hand up and ran his fingers through (Y/N)’s hair soothingly. He pressed a small kiss to the corner of his lips. “Your thoughts are being really loud, Sugarplum.” He whispered.

(Y/N) broke from his trance and shook his head lightly. “I’m sorry, it’s just…with the fight,” (Y/N) looked away briefly. “I don’t want to lose Sam and Dean, but now that I have you, I don’t want to lose you either.”

Gabriel gave him a sympathetic look as he pulled him close. “I know. This whole thing is one giant mess. I wish none of it had to happen. But I’m going to be with you every step of the way, I promise.”

(Y/N) shook his head. “You can’t promise me that. Knock on wood.”

“What?” Gabriel chuckled.

“I don’t want you to have just jinxed yourself, now knock on wood.”

Gabriel smirked as he rasped his knuckles against the wooden bench three times. “Better?”

“A little,” (Y/N) mumbled and nuzzled his cheek against Gabriel’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll feel better until this fight is over.”

Gabriel wrapped his arms tightly around him. “How about this? I promise to do everything in my power to keep you distracted. That way, you’re not too stressed out.”

(Y/N) pursed his lips in thought. “Not too distracted, though. I had practically forgotten about the fight until now, and I still need to stay on my toes.”

“How about I distract you just enough to keep your mind off of it?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Well then, Sugarplum, how do you propose I keep you distracted?”

“You can start by kissing me again,”

“Oh, I can do more than kissing,” Gabriel mused in a suggestive tone and wiggled his brows.

(Y/N) slapped his chest. “Perv,” he grumbled. “Let’s just start with kissing.”

“Taking it slow, I like your style,” Gabriel nuzzled his nose against (Y/N)’s.

(Y/N) smiled widely. “Then shut up and kiss me already.”

Without another word, Gabriel leaned down, capturing (Y/N)’s lips in a deep kiss. Just like that, all of his problems dissipated, and it felt as if he was floating. The park didn’t exist anymore, nor the stumbling locals who left the bar periodically. There were no stars, no more beautiful night sky. The only two things that existed were Gabriel and (Y/N). They were complete. They were strong. They were one. It felt as if nothing in Heaven, Hell, or in between could tear them apart.

And everything was as it should be.

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serialadoptersbracket · 5 months

Text

Round 3, Match 16: Satoru Gojo vs. Xie Lian

Submitted kids:

Saruto Gojo: Tsumiki Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro, Yuuji Itadori, Nobara Kugisaki, Yuuta Okkotsu, the other second year students to some extent

Xie Lian: Ban Yue, Pei Xiu, Lang Ying, Lian Quianqiu, Gu Zi, Lang Ying

Propaganda under the cut!

Satoru Gojo:

“became a single father of 2 at the age of 19. Helped Yuuji fake his death and hid him in his basement for months”

Xie Lian:

1. “a several centuries old disgraced god who keeps somehow getting mixed up in things that have nothing to do with him and taking in random kids in the process. Got dragged into being a soldier in a war between kingdoms he's not even from? suddenly single dad to these two random kids caught up in between. dealing with a malicious ghost who has been killing brides? boom, now he has a ghost son whose previous guardian was killed by the malicious ghost. psychotic ghost cousin posses the body of a man with a young son and continues being a piece of shit? well i guess your taking care of that kid too now (i know guzi is technically qi rong's kid since he's the one possessing his actual dad but if it weren't for xie lian intervening when he did the kid would be dead so he kinda counts too)”

2. “Xie Lian saves a young LQQ from being kidnapped, returns him home and end up becoming the/his grand tutor(which was NOT his original plan at all). He literally teaches the boy everything for years, raising him to become the best ruler he could ever be. The XL ends up accused for killing his family (because of a lot of different things) what is important is that he was not the perpetrator but he did kill LQQ’s father in an act to save the boy from making a horrible decision/outcome and also dealt with the actual perpetrators but kept it a secret cause he knew it would break LQQ’s heart to learn his dear friend planned to kill him and his entire family. LQQ took this betrayal by XL so hard he buried him after staking him through the heart when he was still alive. 300 years later when XL returns/is revealed LQQ is still not over it to the point he wants a FAIR duel to settle the score. FAIR with the man he still thinks killed his entire family!

Banyue and Pei Su are connected. XL took BY under his wing while he was a soldier in the army. He did his best to protect her and get her fed as she had pretty much no one. He also talked with her about his younger selfs dreams for the future which was so inspiring to her that not only did she remember it over a century later when they meet again in very different circumstances but she also apologized for essentially not being able to live up to the ideals he had accidentally passed on to her. While he didn’t have as much direct contact with Pei Su, the boy was BY’s only friend and so while XL was around he did also interact with the boy. However this all came to an end when in an attempt to save BY (which succeeded) he through himself in between two armies and was trampled when they began to fight. When they meet again (as I previously mentioned) XL takes BY under his safety until he is not safe and then sends her off to a safe place where she reunites with PS, who for all XL doesn’t give the same amount of attention to, XL does actually approve of some of him (not all his actions) and seems to find it cute that PS is courting BY.

XL meets Lang Ying first when he helps the boy burry his proxy sister, LY ends up running off after XL reacted with shock to LY’s uncovered face, but XL keeps a constant search for him. XL next saves him from getting beat up by ghosts and ends up taking him to live with him in the shrine he lives in. He does his best to take care of both LY and Gu Zi at the shrine and keeps his good treatment up even knowing LY’s a ghost it only ends when (spoilers for non book people, feel free to look up if you want to know).

XL takes in GZ mostly as his ghost cousin (whom he arrested) has taken over the body of the boy’s father. While I’m not sure how much this one counts, especially since by the end his cousin ends up caring for GZ, but he still does the best he can to feed and care for the boy as his entire life changes.”

#gojo satoru #xie lian #jjk gojo #tgcf #jjk #heaven official's blessing #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #tian guan ci fu #serial adopters bracket #round 3 #tumblr polls #tumblr tournament

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royal-confessions · 2 months

Text

“The grand reveal of Hussein of Jordan newborn daughter excluding the baby mama has to be the biggest royal faux pas of the year.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“King Abdullah’s family not waiting for Rajwa to be in the mood to take a public pic before posting the new baby Princess is the royal version of my family placing boyfriends and girlfriends at the very end of the family portrait in case they need to crop them out later.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“Why Is the first look of baby Iman just her and her dad? At least show a hand or the back of the woman who carried her for 9 months and birthed her 🙁 I apologize if it’s a cultural thing and maybe they will soon release a family picture but that’s the first peek at the baby and Princess Rajwa is absent.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“Lovely to know Hussein and Rajwa had a healthy baby girl!!!!!!!!! But come on now, the family photoshoot should have been postponed for when the mother was camera ready, we are used to Rajwa making us wait for her appearances lol so the video of Hussein and her baby girl was more than enough for a good while, and this are not any pics BUT her daughters first pics and she is not there.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“The reluctance Rania and Abdullah display against factoring Rajwa and Jameel into the public equation of the JRF is unorthodox, do they want to keep their club exclusive only for those born with a title? It could be they want their privacy but to leave them out of the first published pictures of Princess Iman is rather disheartening, Rajwa is the babies mom and Jameel is her uncle.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“The coverage from the Hashemites of the birth of Hussein & Rajwa’s baby leaves me feeling bad for her. So many photos of the family with the baby, zero of her. I understand that perhaps she didn’t want to be photographed but there’s very little reference to her either. As though she’s birthed the child and put to one side. Queen Rania’s instagram feed puts her in prime position. There are a lot of reasons to side eye Rajwa (probably not all of them are her fault either) but becoming a mother is no small thing. In this moment she should have more respect shown to her than this.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“If I wasn't a royal fan, I would assume Hussein had a baby sister and not a newborn daughter. What was that photoshoot of Rania, Abdullah and all their sons and daughters with Rajwa and Hussein's baby without the mother there?Not even a blurry pic of Rajwa, who is the mother of Princess Iman. And DO NOT say its cultural because there are PLENTY of pics of Hashemite princesses with their newborns at the hospital.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“You guys WTH! There are photos of baby Princess Iman and no Rajwa in sight!! I can’t believe it, how rude of Hussein, I feel bad for Rajwa who clearly doesn’t want to be photographed because by marrying to that dork her baby now has to be exposed into the public without her mother. Honestly what a gross royal family, I’ve never seen this happening with any other house. They have no respect for Rajwa I really feel bad for calling her lazy all this time.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“My heart breaks for Princess Rajwa because in which universe would a Royal Family, or ANY Family disregard the new mother by posting photos of the baby without a trace of her. Heck there is a photo of Rania holding Princess Iman before one of Rajwa and her Baby. If there is someone that still wants to buy into the fairy tale wedding and ignore this disrespect for Rajwa? I truly feel sad for her.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“I’m torn at the photos released by the RHC to celebrate the birth of Princess Iman bint Hussein because is great they gave Princess Rajwa space to recover but also out of the ordinary not to see the mother at the first official portraits of a newborn royal baby, since she won’t be the heir I believe they had juggle opportunity to wait for Rajwa to feel herself again instead of rushing the images with no mommy in sight 🥺” - Submitted by Anonymous

“Okay so we don't know what's going on behind the close doors but when CP Hussain was born their were picture of him and Queen Rania and mind you King Abdullah wasn't even in the race of becoming king so Hussain wasn't the heir , there are pics of Queen Noor holding her baby Hamza but no pic of Rajwa with her baby daughter is VERY telling” - Submitted by queenempath007

#crown prince hussein #Princess Rajwa #jordanian royal family #Queen Rania #princess iman bint hussein bin abdullah ii #popular

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months

Note

Hello! In one of your previous posts you mentioned the game purposefully hiding the faces of figures who play a significant role in each OB boy’s trauma. So do you think this applies to Idia's parents as well (they have masks to cover their faces and they don't even have separate sprites but the default STYX members' sprites)?

[Referencing this post!]

There’s a lot to unpack here, so I’ve put my thoughts under the cut!! I hope you enjoy reading ^^

***Note: Many spoilers for books 6 + 7 of the main story!!***

I definitely wouldn’t put the Shroud parents into the same category as like… Mrs. Rosehearts, who was basically the origin from which other issues stemmed. The Shroud parents themselves were not the “root cause” for Idia’s trauma, the “cause” was Ortho’s death and Idia feeling immense guilt and shame about it. Not once has Idia blamed his parents or implicated them for this misfortune (not counting the Shroud curse, which is really the fault of their ancestors and not the Shroud parents in particular). I guess where some fans feel there is an issue is the implication that the Shroud parents did not seem to be there emotionally for Idia or offer him healthy coping mechanisms for his issue??

Before I give my thoughts on why the Shroud mom and dad obscure their faces (and how this does or doesn’t fit into the “purposefully obscuring the faces of those significantly related to each boy’s trauma), allow me to offer a different perspective to those who find fault with Idia’s parents. Firstly, consider that we know very little about the period of time between Ortho’s death leading up to Idia enrolling at NRC. Even then, most of what we know of this period comes directly from Idia, which provides us with a biased and limited perspective. Idia views most things negatively and does not seem close with his parents, so it makes sense that he would describe them in an inflated and unflattering way.

I think where a lot of the initial thoughts about the Shrouds being bad parents (a sentiment I myself had prior to their book 7 reveals) predominantly comes from them not being present in Idia’s post-OB flashback and Idia stating that his parents care more about results than their son’s feelings. We also learn from later that the family used to go out a lot as a group, but those trips stopped after Ortho died. These heavily imply his mom and dad were not there for Idia after the… incident. But let’s back up for a moment; where does the flashback pick up after Ortho died? Over two years later. That’s a large gap to not be knowing what the Shroud parents were doing during it. The STYX employees present also state that Idia has “completely withdrawn” ever losing Ortho, and this could be inclusive of the parents. So… we don’t really know for sure if, during this expanse of 2 years, the parents never made an effort to reach out. Even if they did, it seems highly likely that Idia rejected them. It’s possible that the flashback didn’t feature the parents because Idia largely shut them out of his life or did not deem them to be deeply linked to his trauma; he laments only the general family curse and the loss of Ortho, he does not direct hate at either parent in the flashback.

What we also have to remember is that it wasn’t just Idia that lost a brother that terrible day. Mr. and Mrs. Shroud their sons; Ortho literally (he passed away) and Idia figuratively (as he started to emotionally distance and isolate himself). That’s tough for any parent, but the world cannot stop for them just because they experienced a tragedy. Unfortunately, life moves on and the Shroud parents are in such important positions that they need to work. This is especially true of Mr. Shroud, who oversees all of STYX operations and is burdened with a curse that demands he constantly be surrounded by blot or else the curse will start to chip away at his own magical energy. They need to do this while juggling their own sadness over losing Ortho. There’s only so much time the Shroud parents can try to comfort Idia when they have work, their own emotional trauma to work through, and their surviving son who doesn’t seem to welcome any efforts they put in. You could even theorize that the Shroud parents (particularly the dad) threw themselves into work to try and bury their own feelings. The Shrouds do obviously have a responsibility to Idia as his parents, but parenting is not so easy of a task. They’re still individuals who have other things to balance alongside parenting and they realistically cannot dedicate 100% of their time or energy to Idia.

Now, please do not misunderstand me. I don’t want my words to come off like I’m pointing fingers or victim blaming. What I’m trying to say here is that it isn’t Idia OR his parents’ fault that they grew distant; to me, both parties were busy dealing with their own complicated emotions and their coping methods didn’t seem to align (because different people can have very different trauma responses) and ended up hurting Idia even more in the end. Making mistakes is human and normal. We've seen other characters also falter with their past actions and what they were or were not able to do at the time (Trey not standing up for or to Riddle, Lilia acting callously towards his children, etc.). This by itself is NOT necessarily a bad thing or something to hate on them for; I'd argue that what matters much more is how those matters were dealt with and what the results of those efforts have been. In the case of the Shroud parents, they do not appear to have bad blood with Idia or Ortho in modern day and the game has really done little to indicate that the Shroud parents should be viewed in a morally grey light. They've welcomed Ortho as a part of their family, openly refer to him like a third son, supported his official enrollment as a NRC student, and worry about his safety when Ortho tries to rush headfirst into danger. As for Idia, though he sometimes grumbles about his parents and tends to their actions as coming from a place of not caring, his peers have pointed out that being scolded is proof of his parents’ love for him. For example, Idia complains that his parents have sent him back to NRC so they don’t have to deal with a “nuisance” like him. He also says that there has been public interest in STYX and demand for accountability, which has specifically put his father under fire. We could view the situation like Idia has—that has parents wanted him out of their way. However, as Rook so tactfully pointed out, Idia’s parents must hold deep affection for him. This implies that the Shrouds chose to send Idia back to school for his own safety, and Mr. Shroud was willing to take the full brunt of the heat himself rather than let people suspect his son, whom Mr. Shroud must know is socially anxious. Idia has plenty of other stories about how his parents punished him for dangerous tech modifications he made, and how they’d take away his gadgets as punishment. Again, because they care about their children and their safety, even if they (especially his more stern and work-oriented father) may not show it in conventionally affectionate ways. Idia has pessimistic views that color his parents as annoying and isn’t as close to them anymore as he used to be, but this doesn’t condemn the Shrouds to the eternal hall of bad parents who never ever learn or refuse to change their ways.

Now, about their outfits! Mr. and Mrs. Shroud wear the same robes as NPC staff at STYX. This much is true!! … But I don’t think there is any deep meaning in this, seeing as Idia too wears the same robes?? I believe this is just the default work uniform for STYX researchers, regardless of the position they’re in (so this uniform detail does not technically contribute to the “intentional obscuring” of the Shroud parents’ designs).

We don’t really know what the reason for them wearing the helmets is, and nor is there very strong implication as to why. There have been plenty of fan speculations and theories including but not limited to: special personal protective equipment, magical enhancement gear, general Shroud family shyness, cost/time saving measure for the devs, etc. I can’t really say one way or another which is the “most correct” idea 🤷‍♂️

What I will say is that I do not think there was an intent to hide the Shroud parents’ faces for the same reasons that Mrs. Rosehearts’ face was. Why? Well:

Their faces are not censored in the same way as Mrs. Rosehearts was in the manga; she has her face shaded out by black, but we can still see the details of her outfit. The Shrouds, meanwhile are making the conscious decision to wear helmets—and highly personalized helmets at that. (Mr. Shroud’s helmet is different in colors and design than Mrs. Shroud’s.) This indicates individuality and wanting to make the Shroud parents stand out, not to homogenize them as anonymous black blots at which the OB boys’ trauma finds its roots.

To build off of my previous point, the comment about purposefully obscuring the face of the "source" of Riddle's trauma was ONLY said in the context of the manga, NOT the game. Therefore, in-game assets cannot be considered reliable for "the Shroud parents wear helmets to hise their faces; hidden faces = source of an OB boy's trauma" theory. If you doubt this, then please refer to each boy’s post-OB flashback. In the game, it is not just the sources of their trauma that are blotted out in black, it is literally every character (even the ones with positive memories or experiences associated with them). This includes Trey and Che’nya, whose younger form faces ARE openly depicted in the manga. So again, the “obscuring the faces of characters who are major trauma sources” thing only applies to the manga and the game does not follow this.

The Shrouds are largely depicted in a positive light. The negative aspects of them tend to come from Idia, who tends to have a pessimistic slant to his perception of the world and other people.

Idia’s personal accounts and even his post-OB flashbacks do not attribute or credit his parents for any aspect of his trauma. Much of the guilt and shame he feels is self-imposed and directed at himself.

As I’ve pointed out earlier in this post, we are assuming a lot of things about what happened in Idia’s life following Ortho’s death. The downside to this is that it doesn’t grant the parents any grace and takes everything we see (as little as it is) at face value without considering alternatives or how the parents could have changed in recent years.

Again, we don’t have a lot of information on why the Shrouds wear the helmets. I don’t think it’s wise to assume it’s for a bad reason when most of the canon has indicated we are supposed to “like” the Shrouds (or, at the very least, they’re supposed to be “redeemed” compared to the initially negative comment we were given of them).

In conclusion: no, I don’t think Idia’s parents are wearing their helmets because they’re associated with their son’s trauma. To me, the helmets feel like something they must wear for some in-universe purpose such as additional protection or to indicate their role within the organization.

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 2 years

Text

Glow

Pairing: Daenerys Targaryen x Meereen!Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 2313

Summary: Why she had taken a liking to you among all the others she had freed, you would never know. You had been a personal whore for one of the masters and had gotten pregnant. There were many others like you. Your story was nothing special, but Dany had found you worthy enough to be her close companion. There were even times when you thought that maybe you could be more than her companion.

Blinking your eyes awake, your vision clears to reveal the window outlooking the city of Meereen. You nuzzle your face into your pillow as a hand lays protectively over your swollen abdomen. Smiling to yourself you do your best to shift onto your back and lay on your other side so you could face Daenerys Targaryen, your queen and the Mother of Dragons. She still had her eyes closed, a content smile on her full pink lips. You didn’t think it was possible for someone to be so beautiful. The Targaryens of old Valyria all had the characteristics that made Daenerys beautiful though, as she had told you. You couldn’t imagine an entire family filled with gorgeous people like her. Yet her beauty could not compare to her incredibly soft and kind heart. Like so many others she had saved you from Slaver’s Bay. Why she had taken a liking to you among all the others she had freed, you would never know. You had been a personal whore for one of the masters and had gotten pregnant. There were many others like you. Your story was nothing special, but Dany had found you worthy enough to be her close companion. There were even times when you thought that maybe you could be more than her companion. The roundness of your belly reminded you of how impure you were.

Daenerys scoots closer to you so that her flat stomach is pressed against your rounded one. “Good morning.”

You smile. You should’ve known she would be awake. “Good morning.” You feel her hand caress your stomach again. She was always touching it, perhaps remembering of the time she had been pregnant. She had told you everything of her past and of the witch who had killed her husband and unborn son. The very same who had cursed her womb so that she would never be able to bare children. Joke was on Mirri Maz Duur. Daenerys not only had one child, but three. They were stronger than any human child and much more special. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion continued to grow larger, especially Drogon. Daenerys had already run into trouble though, they proved to be incredibly willful and had killed many livestock which their mother had to reimburse.

“Shall I call for someone to get you breakfast?” You murmur, still a little drowsy. Being pregnant had you constantly tired no matter how much you slept.

Daenerys shakes her head and lifts up one of her hands. As always, she gently touches your face and brings her lips upon your’s sweetly. Your heart races and the child inside of you begins to kick. Dany’s eyes light up at the feeling. She pulls away with a grin. “It always kicks when I kiss you.”

You blush and internally scold your unborn child for revealing your feelings for your queen. Instead you tried to play it off with a nervous giggle. “My child already loves it’s queen.”

Laughing, she slips out of bed and you quickly avert your eyes. Your beautiful queen always preferred to sleep in the nude. She grabs a robe and helps you out of bed. You wouldn’t mind sleeping nude beside her but you feared that your figure was not as beautiful as Daenerys’.

Missandei and other serving girls came in to help their silver haired queen get ready for the day. By command of the queen, they helped you too. Truthfully it was difficult for you to get ready by yourself. You grew weary just walking a few steps.

Queen Daenerys grabs hold of your hand and escorts you over to a small table that Daenerys had set up in her room. It was specifically for you considering that you had a hard time making it down the stairs to the dining hall. Since you were nearing the end of your pregnancy, Daenerys had been joining you at your small table for every meal. Several plates of fruit, meat, bread, and cheeses were brought in as well as a small bowl of olives. Not only were you always tired but you were always hungry too. You knew it was polite to chow down in front of your regal queen, but you couldn’t help but tear into a chunk of bread and start stuffing cheese into your mouth.

Missandei joined you as well, eating more politely than you could ever manage. She went over with Daenerys the schedule for the day. They spoke of those who had requested audience with her grace and how many there were planned for the day. You wished you could attend them with her, but until you popped out your child, you would be sequestered to the queen’s quarters.

As you finished up, Daenerys’ guards showed up to escort her to the audience chambers.

Patting her mouth clean, Dany leans over to kiss you. You blush once again but return the gesture, noticing how Daario and Jorah had looks of jealousy (although Daario did look more aroused than jealous).

Finding yourself alone you sigh and waddle out to the balcony patio. The sun beat down on the yellow city and made you sweat a little bit. Over the tops of buildings you look out to the sea. Even though you didn’t accompany Dany in her queenly duties, you knew that there was chaos in Meereen. People who were against her and wanted her dead. Of course, that might always be the case. The city was dying slowly with no trade going in or out of the ports and with most of their harvest having been burned by the masters.

Overhead you hear a familiar shriek. The first time you saw them you were understandably awestruck. . . that was until they had got too close to you then did you begin to fear them. But over time you grew accustomed to Dany’s dragon children. And much to even Daenerys’ surprise, the dragons seemed to dote on you. If that was even possible for a enormous fire breathing creature. While Drogon chose to travel further and further away from his mother, Viserion and Rhaegal still preferred to stay close. At the sight of you on the patio, both dragons swoop low until you can feel the breeze that they beat up with their wings. They land in front of you and Rhaegal instantly hobbles over to you. It was still alarming when they charged at you. Viserion follows his sibling over to you as Rhaegal lowers his head for you to pet him. They were hot to the touch but considering you were already warm from the temperature outside it didn’t phase you. His scales are coarse and rough as you run your palm up his head before giving his dark, green, scales a scratch. Wanting attention too, Viserion pushes Rhaegal out of the way causing the other to hiss and start a small fight as they snapped at each other and flew into the sky once again. You chuckle and watch them for a bit until the sun started to bother your eyes. Hesitantly you rub your hands over your stomach. You really didn’t know how to feel about being a mom. Considering your child wasn’t conceived out of love rather than lust and obligation. The master who had enslaved and impregnated you was now dead thanks to Daenerys. You couldn’t help but have mixed feelings about your child.

You sigh. Could you love this child?

“Queen Daenerys wanted me to let you know that she will unfortunately be late for dinner this evening and to eat without her.” Daario informed you later that day.

You frown, hoping that Daenerys wasn’t overworking herself. “Please make sure she has a snack at least.”

He smirks. “Of course.” Your dinner is brought in but he doesn’t leave.

Before eating, you set your fork down. Unnerved by the way he was looking at you. “Is there something else I can do for you Daario?”

“I couldn’t help but notice how you and Daenerys interact with each other. She seems to love you very much.”

“As I do her.”

Daario shakes his head. “The two of you are in love, that much is obvious. I’m just wondering what will happen once she has to take a husband.”

You knew where this was going. “If you haven’t noticed there’s already something preventing anything between Queen Daenerys and I.” You gesture to your stomach. “I doubt she really wants someone as tainted as me.”

Daario loses his playful smirk and sits down across from you. “She’s never seen you as tainted, I hope you know that. And you’re not. You had no choice in the matter of things before Daenerys took this city.”

“I do believe you’re being sincere.” You smirk and take a bite out of your dinner. “It’s quite shocking, but nice.”

His smile returns and Daario raises a glass to you. “Then let me continue to be sincere by saying you do look awfully radiant with your round belly. Glowing even.”

You laugh and he keeps you company until Daenerys wanders up with a shocked expression at the two of you talking and laughing. She raises her eyebrows up in confusion.

“What are you still doing here Daario?”

Leisurely he stands up. “Forgive me your grace, I was just keeping (y/n) company considering that you would be late to supper. I will be going now.” He bows and winks at you before leaving.

Daenerys’ violet eyes turn to you. “Did he say anything inappropriate to you?”

You shake your head. “No. He was an utter gentleman.”

That made her even more suspicious. “Gentleman? Daario?” Daenerys takes up Daario’s old seat. “Next time I’ll be sure to send Jorah. . . That Daario cannot be trusted.” Was that a hint of jealousy you detected?

Changing the subject you told her how you had seen Viserion and Rhaegal earlier. She timidly asked if you had spotted Drogon, to which you tell her you didn’t. Of course she wilted a little bit. It had been a few days since she had last seen her biggest dragon.

“He’ll turn up soon. I’m sure he’s just busy exploring the neighboring lands and finding more food so that he doesn’t have to keep eating cattle that belongs to your people.”

“That’s one way of seeing it I suppose.” She murmurs against her cup as she takes a long sip.

“Have faith in your children as they have faith in you.” You offer her a small smile.

Her face that had been so somber brightens and makes you clam up immediately from shyness. Warmth spread in your chest and you could feel your baby kick inside of you. To know that you were able to put such a smile on her face made you undeniably happy. A lowly creature such as yourself didn’t deserve to feel so happy.

“Your Grace-” Pain pierces into your abdomen and you gasp sharply, fingers squeezing your cloth napkin.

Her eyes widen in panic and she quickly rises to her feet. “(y/n)?”

Breathing harshly you try and tell her that you’re fine, but another stab makes you cry. Daenerys immediately calls for help and somehow manages to get you onto her bed. Weakly you complain about how her sheets will be ruined by the end of it, but it falls on deaf ears. She’s 100% focused on delivering your baby. A flock of women and Missandei rush in with water and cloth. Daenerys refuses to leave your side, holding your hand the entire time.

Even with your little girl in her arms, Daenerys continues to cry. You yourself had wept when Missandei put her in your arms; a pink, screaming, little thing. In Daenerys’ arms though she had quieted down.

“She’s beautiful.” Dany whispers, truly in awe of the infant in her arms. You let her have her moment, knowing that she had been unable to have such a tender moment with her own child. Then you heard her whisper “Three heads. . .”

“What?”

“There’s three heads of the dragon. . .” She continues to murmur more so to herself.

“Of your sigil?” As a gift she had given you a piece of cloth that had the sigil of House Targaryen stitched into it. A red three-headed dragon amidst black.

“My ancestor Aegon the Conqueror flew to Westeros alongside his two sisters. That’s why our house has a three headed dragon to represent the three dragons that conquered Westeros. My own dragons adore you, (y/n).”

You still weren’t following. What did dragons have to do with your baby?

Eyes like that of amethyst turn back to you. Realizing what she had said out loud she blushes and hands you back your daughter. “Nevermind. I should leave mother and child to rest.” She gives you a weak smile and turns to leave.

“Dany wait.”

You shock even yourself when you use her nickname.

“W-Won’t you lay with us? You’ve already seen how much my daughter loves you already. . . Just like I do. . .”

Daenerys draws closer. Her violet eyes regarding you with complete love and adoration. She didn’t have to say it out loud, you could finally see it in her eyes. Her lips part then close, thinking better not to speak. Both of you knew there would be complications in your relationship. You’d work it out though when the time came. Right now though, you just wanted to be a happy family.

She cuddles against you, her head comfortably against your’s as she gazed at your daughter. “What will you name her?”

“I thought you could name her. It would be a great honor.”

Daenerys smiles, her fingers brushing against your daughter’s cheek tilting her head so that her lips grazed the shell of your ear. “Rhaella.”

You turn your head, lips mere inches away from her’s. “A lovely name.”

She smiles and closes the gap, kissing you.

#daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen fanfiction #daenerys targaryen fanfic #daenerys targaryen x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #Game of Thrones fandom #asoiaf fandom #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf reader insert #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction

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gaysindistress · 4 months

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This is definitely not canon at all but yall are gonna let me have this😭

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

Astarion x gn!reader

masterlist

So Star Boy, our sweet Astarion, was a magistrate and grew up wealthy, if not nobility in some way. Based on how sarcastic and cunning he can be in the game, I’d bet my left big toe that he used a little shit when he was younger. I’m talking switching the side of the road he’s walking on if he saw a beggar and turning his nose up if they talked to him. We also know that this is somewhat true given how he ended up becoming a vampire. I’m imagining him being very similar to Cressida from Bridgerton; just someone who is miserable and craves feeling important/valued. He needs to make others feel small because he felt worthless growing up and doesn’t know how to cope with the weight of his family’s expectations.

Which leads to me my impossible canon; what if he had a betrothed before he was turned?

What if he was awful to them because he didn’t know how to be kind?

I don’t think he has the ability to be truly awful but I do think he would ignore them, keep a distance, and probably be very short with the poor soul. He’d be dismissive and constantly give them looks because he’s just so angry to be engaged to them. It’s not that they’ve done anything; it’s the fact that he’s being forced to marry someone he didn’t pick himself. Once more his family has taken away his freedom and has forced him to play the part of a noble son.

This betrothal has been in the works for years, maybe even since birth but they haven’t been allowed interact until recently. Sure he’s known that it was some second born of a distant family ally and he’s seen a handful of paintings but that’s all. He’s never spoken to them or truly ever seen them.

It feels like the sky is crumbling around him when he does finally meet his betrothed. Sun breaks through the stained glass windows of the church as astarion stares at the mocking portraits around him. They seem to mock his situation with their out stretched arms that promise freedom and salvation. His boots make sharp and impatient noises as he taps his foot out of frustration. His parents, ever the stunning and elegant figures that they are, whisper as they critique every aspect of their son. Just when he’s about to huff and demand that they leave, the doors swing open and a small crowd of people waltz in. A man and a woman who foil Astarion’s parents stride up to them, murmuring half hearted apologies and excuses. Behind them trails a few servants and the other half of this unwilling couple.

Astarion rolls his eyes at the shy demeanor of his betrothed, cursing any god listening for this entire thing. His mom snaps her fingers and beckons him to her side to make the official introduction.

“Astarion darling, this is your betrothed,” she tells him as the servants fall away and reveal the single most beautiful creature that Astarion has ever laid eyes upon.

“Oh what a pretty little thing,” his father says before Astarion can speak and adds, “it’s shame they’re rather dull minded.”

The look that flashes across his betrothed’s face is one of immense disgust but it’s schooled into one of cool collection. They settle their warm eyes on Astarion and give him a gentile smile as they murmur their greeting.

“What a pretty little thing indeed.” Astarion finds himself saying without realizing it.

When this small spark of admiration bursts into distain is yet to be revealed but rather quickly it does and even the mention of his upcoming wedding makes him ill. Astarion avoids it at all costs and morphs into a bitter husk of himself as it draws closer.

That is until he’s turned.

A part of him is grateful that he’s dead to the world but there’s also a part that feels guilty. The sweet smile didn’t deserve his cruel and cold behavior but then again he didn’t deserve to lose his freedom like that.

Over the years, I’d think he would forget about that part of his life or rather he would lock that memory away. It’s useless to dwell on a ‘what if’ like that when Caz-cunt is alive.

So his pretty little betrothed is scrubbed from his mind and whatever he felt for them is forgotten as well.

Fast forward to when he’s adventuring with Tav. They’ve started what it appears to be a budding relationship (more like a few artfully crafted seductions but that’s not the point). Astartion finds himself falling for Tav and caring for them in a way he never thought possible. There’s a sting in his chest whenever he looks at them but it feels deeper, older than their relationship. It nags at him to remember but to remember what? It feels like it’s always on the tip of his tongue, just out of reach.

His fingers grasp at the tracers of a memory so forbidden that he doesn’t think he could even touch it. At night after hunting, Astarion finds himself staring up at the moon, trying to pick apart his own mind to figure it all out. By morning he’s exhausted and starving again.

During one of his many fruitless nights, he drifts to sleep and wakes up to someone pressing a dagger to his throat.

“Where is your camp?” The shadowy figure demands in a low voice as they gently press the blade against his neck.

“I don’t have one,” he replies, confused by his own quickness to protect his unfortunate companions.

“Lies, where is it?” The blade kisses and lavishes his neck as a prick of blood beads out.

“If you want to keep that hand, I suggest you get off of him and back way,” Tav’s authoritative voice calls out. Astarion can’t see much around the mass that looms over him but he can see that every one of his companions is there with weapons drawn.

The figure makes a disgruntled noise before quickly getting up and backing away with raised hands. They give some bullshit excuse that no one truly believes but Tav is more focused on Astarion to further question them.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the figure lets slip and earns the full attention of everyone, Tav especially. They position themselves between their lover and this thief, leveling them with a harsh look of judgment.

“Who are you?” Tav demands.

The figure chuckles to themselves as they push their hood off to reveal themselves. A collective shock rings through the group when they finally see the person that got the under hand on Astarion.

“Who I am is unimportant. Why I am here is the question you should be asking.”

Tav shifts from foot to foot, ready to attack as they pose the ‘correct’ question.

The newcomer’s face breaks in an eerily familiar smile as they inform the group that Raphael sent them. They survey the band of ragtag adventurers before them, their eyes quickly scanning over each person but settle on one pale elf.

Chaos seems to erupt in the form of hushed conversations and sharp words but it all falls on deaf ears for Astarion.

All he sees is that perfect facade of a smile and warm eyes that he’s been searching for the 200 years.

“What a pretty little thing you are,” his formerly betrothed murmurs to him and him alone.

#astarion x gn reader #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion imagine #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion #astarion x you #astarion x female reader #astarion x male reader

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kurogxrix · 1 year

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Boys Don’t Cry

Dad!Ao’nung x Sully!reader

IN WHICH Ao’nung cries for the first time in his life after the death of your son, but you’re here to help him through it.

Warnings: ANGST, death, grief of a son, our bby crying :(.

READ Fire Drill first to understand, this is Ao’nung’s side of the story.

Ao’nung had never cried in his entire life, other than the moment where he had been stripped from his mother’s womb and into the lands of Pandora. He had always been a quiet baby, always the type to cause trouble that would make him laugh rather than wail.

Growing up in a strict household had only strengthened Ao’nung’s lack of emotional display as he grew up, always feeling like the future Olo’eyktan should not shed any tears. He remembers the times where he would make fun of his more sensible friends for crying over the smallest things, making them feel small for being able to express their feelings. He thought that crying was something boys were not supposed to do, that they were supposed to appear strong for their families when bad things happened.

Sure he had been reprimanded by Ronal and Tonowari countless of times for his behaviour and recklessness, and he would often come back from hunts with a couple of gashes and wounds littering his skin, but never a single tear to graze his cheeks. He would grit his teeth until pressing down on them would hurt, trying to swallow back his pain so he didn’t cry.

His sister, Tsireya was very fragile of nature as she inherited their mother’s more hidden side. She was sensible to things around her, and she was never scared to show how she felt. Sometimes during their youth, Ao’nung would tease her and call her a crybaby whenever she’d cry about the smallest things, causing her to sob even harder and getting reprimanded by his father.

Soon you would get to know that the boy was emotionally constipated. It had taken it a while for you both to confess, yet alone for you to comprehend that he had feelings for you. Those same feelings that you had accidently revealed to him one night, and he was glad, because that had allowed him to act out on his own. Soon, your love had developed into more than just being mates and sharing a bond through tsaheylu. You had both created a baby through that said love, and Ao’nung was elated at the news.

He hadn’t cried when your son was born, unlike you that was spent and just happy that he was finally here. In some way, he felt prideful of not being soft-hearted like his family. He felt strong because to Ao’nung, boys don’t cry.

Ao’nung had never cried in his entire life, not when his son was born, not when he laid wailing excruciatingly in your tired arms. Crying does not always represent happiness or sadness, he didn’t need to cry to show that he felt joyful of the welcoming of your new baby. The warm smile on his face was enough to tell you that he was more than happy that his son was finally here, and he had vowed to himself on that day that he would be strong for the both of you.

Though when the humans and recoms came to claim your father in their death grip, he didn’t know what would happen. Ao’nung watched as you poured your heart out for the unfortunate death of the oldest Sully son, your brother Neteyam. His death gripped your heart like it had never been held before, crushing it in its cruel hold. His lips turned into a frown as he held you in his arms, your shoulders shaking as you trembled from the aftermath of your sobs.

The humans were cruel people, claiming what is not theirs and destroying whoever and whatever is in their way. He had sworn to himself on that day that he would kill every single one of them for making you suffer in such a way and that your tears would not be in vain. But as he watched as his forever home vanished in the midst of the flames, his heart could only pick up the place.

You were frozen beside him as you watched the marui that you both shared being engulfed by the fire. Ao’nung remembers not thinking straight as he gripped your arm in a tight grip as he dragged your frozen state into your home. He remembers the blood curdling screams that you let out as you cradled your deceased son, unpitied by the Great-Mother.

He couldn’t remember exactly when his eyes had started tearing up, the burning feeling of arriving tears rising in his throat. The sight of your mutilated son was more than what his heart could take, and soon the fresh tears began pouring down his cheeks freely. There wasn't much that he could let out, no more than 3 tears rolled down his grimy cheeks, but they were 3 too much.

His tattoos burnt his skin as he felt undeserving of them. The ones marking his arms up to his chin were the ones that he had acquired after passing his rights of passage, deeming him a strong and valuable adult, but how could a strong man fail to protect his own family? How could he have let his own son’s life slip out of his fingers when he knew that he could’ve protected him.

The guilt was overbearing, shifting him out of reality as he thought of the little amount of time that he had been able to spend with his son. It ate him up from in to out, leaving him feeling like an empty shell void of any emotions. The feeling of his mother’s warm palm over his arm was enough to snap him out of his derivative dreaming, the harsh sounds of your wailing reaching his tense ears. He was so distraught, pupils blown and without knowing where to look anymore.

He didn’t want to look at your poor son as he laid unmoving in your arms, but the guilt of not looking would soon catch up to him if he didn’t. Ronal’s hands cupped her son’s cheeks, ripping him out of his trance once more. He could make out a few distinct words that his mother was talking to him, but the ringing in his head was far too overwhelming for him to even concentrate. His lips wobbled and his ears were flat against his skull.

Ronal’s own distraught state was far too much for him to comprehend, so he gently peeled her hands off of him.

She had never fully accepted you like her own daughter, not even when you had publicly announced that you were mated to her son. But whether she liked it or not, you were family now just like your son was to her, and family doesn’t like seeing family suffer. She couldn’t even imagine the pain that you and Ao’nung currently felt, as she placed a hand on her swelling stomach.

Later that night, things were dead silent in his family’s marui. He had come for a simple thing, and it was to fetch fish for you to eat tonight, because he needed to take care of you no matter how he felt. It didn’t matter if he felt emotionally destroyed, he had made it his duty to take care of you while you grieved.

Tsireya’s frown seemed permanent ever since the events had happened, not knowing how to comfort her usually stoic brother. She had never seen him like this, so distant and quiet because he was unable to express his own feelings, and it hurt her more than anything to see her only brother suffer in silence.

Hell, the silence of their marui was suffocating on its own. Tonowari couldn’t even approach his grieving son, because damn was he also emotionally constipated. He cursed himself for his inability of expressing himself freely, that if he wasn’t then maybe his son would’ve been confiding the thoughts that were bothering him so much to them. He knew that it weighed him down, so much that he could not even stand the pressure even if he sat on his knees.

Ronal’s guilt as she rethought of 2 years ago when she had agreed with Tonowari to let you seek Uturu

in their village. Maybe if she had been stronger and had strictly denied her mate, Ao’nung would be happy off with someone else right now. There would’ve never been a war upon the lands of Awa’atlu and her son would be smiling amongst his own little family. Though she knew it was wrong for her to think of this at such a time, because she knew that the love that Ao’nung held for you and your son is great, and he wouldn’t exchange the both of you for anything in this world.

For, she had a close connection to her children unlike anyone else on this planet did. A mother does tsaheylu right after birth with their babies, and the emotional bond that they share is like no other. She knows when her children are hurting, she can sense it, she can see it. Ronal can’t help herself but to treat Ao’nung as though he was the fragile kid that he had never been, but nothing seemed to break through that shell of his. Maybe, she believed that it was better off to let him sort out his feelings with you, that he would feel better to confine in you for now, that he would eventually open himself to them.

The violent images of his son’s scorched body and the vile smell of demise was still fresh in his mind, the events replaying like a broken video.

So they watch as Ao’nung walks away, a plate full of fish held tightly in his unrelenting grip. Ronal knew that there was always a light in darkness, he just needed to look through the right path, and she was sure that soon enough you both would.

When you awoke to the cold feeling of emptiness beside you, there was a nagging feeling that tugged at your chest. Despite that the pain of losing your son was still swirling raw in your chest, you knew that Ao’nung getting up before you meant that something was wrong. It wasn’t that you usually woke up late, no, further than that even. It was that Ao’nung usually waited for you to get up before starting his chores. Those were the little things that you had caught onto in your relationship, and it was damn time that they came in use.

You raised a hand to rub the grogginess out of your freshly opened eyes, fingers digging oddly pleasurably into your eyes. Then, when the grogginess had disappeared, you could see your husband’s back turned away from you. Ao’nung was cutting up a few fruits as he dropped the pieces into a large bowl before him, his ears were flattened upon his head and his tail laid flat against the material of your temporary marui. Given that the one where you previously lived on was now in shambles.

Plus the both of you wouldn’t have been able to live in the home in which your son had passed away in, it would always be a dark spot on your hearts.

Painfully, you stood up from your previous spot as you approached your husband. You kneeled down behind him and he visibly flinched when you brought a hand down to rest upon his shoulders. Though you didn’t take it to heart. Slowly by slowly, you began creeping your hands around his torso as though not to scare him and you embraced him warmly from the back. It was silent, but for once the silence was not comfortable. It was stuffy and suffocating, full of unsaid words that were waiting for clarity.

“I’m so sorry yawne, I never intended for things to be like this.” you excused yourself like any of this was your fault. Like the recoms following your father and unabling you from having a good life was any of your fault. Ao’nung was silent, more than he had been yesterday and your chest quivered as you started crying again. You were tired of it, tired of feeling like all you could do was cry for this nasty feeling of emptiness to leave your body.

You watched from the corners of your eyes as his lips wobbled at your words, despite the tears blurring your vision. Ao’nung turned his head away from you as he hid his vulnerability, and your heart ached at the sight of your husband. You didn’t want him to feel like he had to hide how he felt around you, or feel like he had to be embarrassed or scared that you would somewhat judge him if he came true to how he really felt.

“Hey,” you gently called out for him, unravelling your hands from his torso as you moved to sit in front of him. The dish of fruits was long forgotten as you moved it to the side to take its place. Ao’nung’s lips were sealed in a tight line and you could now see the tears that gathered in his eyes, unable to escape his waterline. You felt your heart drop down to your feet as it was only the second time that you had seen your mate cry, but now you were in a mental state where you could help him.

You took his face into your hands like his mother had done the past night, and it felt all too comforting to him. His cheeks burnt with discomfort but you were not about to let him cry his sorrows alone, you were his wife after all. Your thumbs ran soothing circles upon his cheeks as you waited for him to turn his head to you, leaving him the time to feel comfortable enough so that you wouldn’t have to force him upon it.

“It’s okay to feel gloomy after what's happened, you don’t have to hide yourself from me,” you whispered out the last part, your throat burning as you felt more tears rising up in your eyes. You blinked them away as they fell graceful down your darker skin. “I’m not going to judge you, I'm not going to tell anyone.” you pleaded through tears and soon enough he turned his face towards you.

You watched as he completely crumbled, his lips dropping impossibly further down into a bigger frown before he pushed himself further into your embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist as he hugged you. Ao’nung felt embarrassed when you didn’t berate him for crying, feeling ashamed that he even felt the need to hold back whitin your presence.

His face was buried in your neck as he sobbed his sorrows away, your arms intertwining behind his neck as you swayed him back and forth. He knew that you were loyal and that he trusted you with his entire life, he knew that you would keep your promise of zipping it. He felt so much relief as he sobbed into your arms, your body warm and close to him.

For, boys do cry, and so do men. Men who have lost their families, their homes, the ones that they loved. Men who are mature enough to understand that crying does not render you as weak, and soon Ao’nung would learn to open his heart to that thought. He felt safe sharing his burdens and sorrows to you, and you always listened to him with open ears just like he did with you.

hey y’all concerning the requests, i’ll be posting them within 3 day intervals (if i’m done with them fast enough to do so).

#aonung x reader #ao’nung x reader #atwow #avatar #avatar 2 #sully!reader #aonung #ao’nung #ronal x reader #aonung angst #avatar angst #angst #atwow oneshot #dad!aonung #dad!ao’nung

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