#the disappearance of the sorcerer’s son

[muse-write]

Umm…here’s just a quick unedited thing I wrote today. It’s a little character study of some of the main characters of my new original WIP.

In the Imperial Academy of Magical Studies, there are many hundreds of impressive, interesting people of whom impressive, interesting stories could be told. But, dear reader, you will forgive me for directing your attention away from these prestigious magihistorians and herbal wizards to the slight, sharp-faced girl in the coffeehouse.

This is Lizaveta—Vyetta to her friends, though there are few enough of those. She sits in the coffeehouse in a way that might seem sullen to others but to those who know her is simply focused, hunched over a pile of textbooks and scribbling away in a cramped, spidery font.

Vyetta—we shall take the presumption of calling her this, for are not all characters friends of their narrators and creators?—practically glows with loneliness, though she would rather have died than admit it.

And, as her creator, I know something she has not yet realized—it is this loneliness which has driven her to Rodrikov Lamovich, the subject of her intense academic interest and the biography of whom she has made her postgraduate thesis. 200 years earlier, he was also a very lonely boy, so lonely and so looked over that when he disappeared after the death of his imminent father, no one really took any notice one way or another.

Except Vyetta, 200 years later.

For now we shall leave Vyetta—but not forever, certainly—and visit our other person of interest halfway across campus, in the hall of music. The girl fidgeting with a pen in the back row of a lecture hall is Angelina Rudrakova—Gelya to her friends, though those have all been left back in Tonland. Gelya is pretty in the way popular in Russki, the round-faced, delicate, snub-nosed way, and for this she is popular among the students at the Imperial Academy. She is also lonely, and she is very angry.

She can do nothing about either of these things, and she’s given up trying. The Imperial Academy, far from her family and her music studies in Tonland, was her last resort, and she very mildly regrets it. It has done nothing to help her anger except putting a buffer of distance between her and the cause, and it has only increased her loneliness.

And, though they know nothing of each other, these two women will become the most important people in the world to one another in about three hours.

We must leave them to their innocence for now to visit the third player in our tale, just finishing his third round of practice that week and laughing with a teammate as they head out of the soccer field and back to their dorms. This is Aleksei—Vyetta’s brother’s best friend, currently looking forward to that night, when he would slip away to a coffeehouse on campus (that same coffeehouse in which Vyetta is furiously, desperately studying) and lead the bimonthly meeting of the Union of Free Men. Because as much as he wants to get through school with his medical degree, he wants to kill the tsar more. And he will do whatever it takes—even giving up sleep, even risking his life (or, as he will discover, others’)—to achieve this goal.

[chocolilies]

─── SWEAT. ꒱

( ୨ৎ. fushiguro toji x fem!teacher!reader. . .ᐟ

toji comes to pick megumi up from his training, expecting to be met with his white-haired asshole of a teacher, only to meet gojo's newer, cuter replacement.

◟ꪆ୧ slight nsfw (toji stares at reader's tits, reader imagines getting groped by him), au where toji is alive + takes care of megumi, bold yet sneaky flirting, megumi's in middle school. wrote this on a whim bc i need toji BAD.

w.c: 1.6k

also on ao3 + jjk masterlist !

“that’s your dad?”

you’d heard mention of fushiguro toji before, whether it be from his son or from gojo as he had explained how he’d let the “sorcerer killer” live under the promise of taking care of the boy that was now standing at your side. 

“don’t you dare.”

megumi gritted his teeth as he watched you goggle at the man you were approaching, hand wrapped around your wrist as if he was pulling back a dog on a leash, and by the way you were staring at toji, he might as well have been. 

“what!?” you let out an offended gasp, turning to look at your glaring student, tiny face scrunched up in disgust at the mere thought of what was going through your brain. 

“i know what you're like.”

you froze in your place, horrified expression framing your sweaty face as the cicadas roared around you, framing the silence after that comment in an almost comedic manner. 

you watched as megumi continued to walk ahead, a bored look on his face once he turned around to wait for you to catch up at the edge of the tiny wasteland you’d both been training in, letting you wonder as you caught up to him just what gojo had told him before he’d first introduced the both of you.

you started spluttering out a mix of words in disbelief once you reached his side, but whatever you’d tried to say immediately got stuck in your throat as soon as you finally caught a better look at the man that had sparked the short lived argument.  

oh, fuck.

“who’s this?” you watched attentively as the muscles in toji’s arms bulged beneath his tight shirt at the tiniest movement, feeling your mouth water at the mere sight of them. 

god, you felt dirty just staring at him.

“my teacher.” megumi grunted, shoving his backpack off and flinging it into his dad’s chest, walking towards the bus stop further ahead without bothering to say goodbye, knowing he’d see you around sooner or later. 

“I thought that white-haired brat was his teacher,” toji grunted out, flinging the backpack over his shoulder as he turned to look down at you, quirking up a brow as he immediately noticed your nervous demeanour, a drop of sweat dripping down your temple before rolling down your neck and towards your exposed cleavage, green eyes following it’s whole journey and lingering on the spot where it disappeared.  

it’d been a while since toji had stared at someone this way. he hadn't looked twice at anyone, regardless of their attractiveness or willingness, ever since his wife died and tsumiki’s mom left. 

but that amount of time without anyone to touch or kiss or feel would have its toll on anyone, and toji was no exception. 

which is why he initially blamed it on that. 

neediness.

he doesn't feel anything for megumi’s teacher, you’re just too pretty and exposed and worked up to ignore, right? it’s not like he’d actually think of pursuing something with you. 

he snapped out of it once you spoke, expecting to meet an angered expression and an insult about his perversion once he raised his gaze, only to find you straight up ogling his arms and chest. 

the way he stares at your pretty, scrunched up face when you aren't looking, proves him wrong.

initially, you might've been able to attribute your clammy palms and sweaty skin to the blasting summer heat, or to the fact you’d just finished a four hour training session with the tiny grade two sorcerer who gojo had been training for the past few years. 

“I'm his co-worker,” you stuttered out, forcing yourself to look away from the veins that swelled in his arms and up to his green eyes, not wanting the man to see just how much he was affecting you. “satoru’s on a mission, so I'll be taking care of ‘gumi ‘till then.”

toji hummed, taking your gawking as an invitation to do his own, allowing his eyes to trail over your flustered expression and sweaty skin, lingering on the more exposed parts of your outfit, thanking whatever god was up there for the stupid heatwave that had hit their country as of late. 

“mission, huh?” toji snickered, turning his head to look at the boy who was sitting at the bus stop with one of the divine dogs at his side, resting his tired body against its black fur. “how long will y’be around?”

“well, until ‘toru comes back, I guess…” you trailed off, mouth going dry as you watched the man take a tiny step towards you, raising one of those big hands you’d been ogling before to brush against your cheek, a shiver wracking through your whole body at the light contact, his skin burning against yours, making you just how a man that ran as hot as that was able to survive in this weather, especially when he dressed like it was winter.

“y’had some dirt on y’cheek,” toji almost purred out, flicking his fingers to get rid of the grime that had probably stuck to you during the many times megumi’s divine dogs had flung you around. 

“oh, I'm probably covered in dirt,” you laughed out nervously, taking a step back to put the same distance as before between you two, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand while trying to ignore how electrifying his touch had felt. “I always seem to find myself taking an everything-shower after training with ‘gumi, he’s ruthless.”

toji fell silent, watching you as you shook your arms and head, probably trying to get rid of whatever debri that was still stuck to your body, grin pulling at the scar in the corner of his lips. “need me t’clean you up, that what you're saying?”

huh? 

you blinked stupidly as your mind attempted to process what he had just said. were you misunderstanding his words or his tone? or was he really suggesting what your mind had immediately jumped to?

that was not what you were saying, but you certainly would not be complaining if he did. 

you felt your cheeks warm as you imagined what that might look like: big, warm, calloused hands on your skin as you stood under the steady stream of the shower, hot water pouring over the both of you as he dragged a sponge over your skin, free hand resting on your tummy right above where you needed him most, groping and caressing the plus skin, body pressed tightly against his in such a way that you could just feel his growing cock pressing against your ba-

oh, what the fuck.

you imagined punching yourself in the face, snapping you out of the downright filth you were acting out in your mind with a man you had just met, not to mention, the father of your student. 

“jeez, pick your jaw up, ‘m messing with ya.” you grunted as two of his fingers landed under your chin, shoving your mouth shut with a shit-eating grin, clearly enjoying the fact that he had gotten such a reaction out of you with a mere joke. “‘s not appropriate f’me to flirt with ‘gumi’s teacher.”

“s-sorry.” you struggled to even push out that simple word, trying to figure out just what the hell had gotten into you to make you act like this, not even processing the fact that he had just admitted to flirting with you. 

were you ovulating? was it that time of the month already? or was toji’s overwhelming presence truly just enough to get you acting like a bitch in heat?

“old man,” you snapped out of it as you heard megumi shout out for his father from behind you both, “bus is coming.”

toji chuckled, raising a thumbs up to the boy in response before turning back to look at you, taking in your shaky figure with a smirk.

“which means I'll just hafta wait ‘till that blue-eyed brat comes back and you're not his teacher anymore.”

you blinked owlishly up at him, and toji could just see the cogs whirring and moving around in your mind, trying to make sense of what he'd just said. 

“give me y’number once he does. hope that offer to clean you up will still be available by then.” 

god, he was a big fat liar. if he had been telling the truth before, he would not be asking that, he would not be (for once) looking forward to seeing that white haired bastard, as it would mean he would be free to pursue you. 

toji walked away after dropping that bombshell, not having to turn to look at you to know that you were staring at him walk away, ignoring the way his son was glaring at him while he held a hand out to stop the bus. 

“what?” he grinned, pulling their transport passes out as the bus opened its doors, megumi’s divine dog curling around the boy protectively like it usually did. “your teacher's hot,”

“you disgust me,” megumi deadpanned, snatching the pass out of his father’s hand before boarding the bus, dog quickly following up the step with a wag of its tail, phone already out and ready to message tsumiki to complain about their father, leaving toji to do the same. well, not before he turned to sneak a final look at you. 

you had walked away from the field, heading towards a black car nearby he assumed had been sent by the school, phone in hand as you talked into the speakerphone, shaky voice ringing out in such a way even he could hear it. 

“ieiri, how wrong would it be for me to hook up with a future student’s father?”

[hopelessromantic5]

King Arthur happens to be traveling through Ealdor the exact day the citizens decide they’ve had enough of Merlin.

Labeling him too dangerous, they tied him up on the pyre in the center of town.

As long as Merlin had been alive, he’d never seen this pyre lit.

He would’ve just gotten himself out of this situation with his ‘gifts’ if it weren’t for his poor mother.

The villagers would never let her live in peace if he magically disappeared.

No, this was the only way she could go on living, even with a broken heart.

He didn’t fight. He didn’t really hear much of what they spit at him. But he could hear his mother wailing at him, to save himself, to do whatever he must do.

He’d resigned himself to an early death.

Tom, the town representative, started spewing some righteous words at him. New Religion words that didn’t quite make sense to him, but that’s to be expected. He is, himself, a creature of the old religion, if prophecy is to be trusted.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, serpent?”

Merlin opened his mouth to tell his mother that he loved her, but he stopped short.

In the distance, he could hear a sound.

The beating of hooves on hard, cold dirt.

Visitors were approaching.

It must be fate, he thinks.

As the horses drew closer, the villagers slowly turned their attentions away from him.

Merlin simply hung his head, letting the Earth he loved so dearly decide which way his life would swing.

“What is the meaning of this?”

A calm, steady voice came from behind him. Deep and concerned. Merlin wished he could see the man.

“My lord,” Tom bowed, as well as he could, which was strange.

Upon realization, Merlin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, were these visitors noble? They never had nobility stay long enough to make comments on anything, only ever just passing through.

“I asked you a question.” The voice said again, with all the authority of someone who’s used to using it.

“This man is a sorcerer, sire. We were just-“

“What has he done?”

“Sire?”

“What has this man done to call for these extreme measures?” When no one answered him immediately, he rephrased.

“Surely there must’ve been a crime committed?” As if it’s a question.

Merlin’s mother pulled herself out of shock and brought herself forth.

“He did nothing, sire.” She spoke firm and unmoving. She must’ve seen hope in this man that Merlin had yet to lay eyes on. “He’s only ever used it for healing wounds and helping our gardens in the winter. Please have mercy on him, my lord. He is my only son.” Tears started falling as her voice broke. She finally met Merlin’s eyes again and he smiled at her, weakly.

“So this man-“

“Sorcerer.” Corrected Tom. What a dick.

“This man, did nothing but heal you and help you survive and this is how you repay him?”

Again no answer.

The man seemed to gesture at Tom, walking towards the town elder, and bringing him finally into Merlin’s line of sight.

The doomed boy nearly gasped.

Silver and red bled together in the sun, armor and finery melded like roses in white sand.

The man-the lord…the knight? He had golden blonde hair, that shone like it’s own light.

Blue eyes made even more obvious and striking surrounded by unblemished, sun-kissed skin.

“You seem to be leading the horde. Tell me why?” No, answer. “Cut him down.” A command. The stranger’s face was a hard, blank line.

Funny how, even then, he didn’t feel like a stranger. But Merlin was in no state to remember it.

“My lord, I do not think that would be wise. Your father was the one to wage war on magic-“

“I am not my father. Cut him down.”

Merlin swallowed. Uther Pendragon was the only person in his mind that waged the war on magic, that began the purge. Which means this man could only be his son, Prince Arthur.

What a prince he was.

Well, King, now.

No wonder every person in the vicinity practically dropped to their knees upon his arrival. They’d all heard stories of ‘The Just King’ that now reigned over Camelot. Giving whatever he could to his citizens that needed it most, never turning anyone away who seeks shelter. Merlin had heard the same as everyone else. Seeing the King in person now, he was in awe.

“I will not endanger the lives of all who live here.” Tom turns back to Merlin with the lit torch.

Merlin held his breath, but the second Tom turned away from him, the King pulled his sword. It made the loveliest sound as it left the sheath.

The sound of salvation.

Tom had the tip of a majestic blade directed right at his throat, as the King spoke again.

“I said, cut him down.”

The look on the King’s face was one that could kill.

Merlin wondered momentarily why he cared so much.

Finally someone from the crowd stepped forward with a knife and began to cut away Merlin’s ties.

Hunith leapt forward and engulfed her son in a hug, while also somewhat holding his body upright.

He did not want to let go, considering he thought he would never get to hug his mother again. But the entire village was watching them.

As was-

“What is your name?”

It was phrased as a question but spoken like a command. Merlin knew it was directed at him without opening his eyes.

He did, reluctantly, release his mother and turn to the golden King, facing deep blue eyes head on. Never cowering.

“Merlin.”

The King must’ve seen something in him. Something every other person was blind to or chose to ignore, simply because he was a peasant. He took a step closer and Merlin could hear the tiny tink of metal pieces on his shining armor, as he did so.

“Well, Merlin.” He said, as if trying it out for himself. “Seeing as I’ve just given you your life, I’d like to ask a favor.”

Merlin’s curiosity was peaked, to say the least. King’s didn’t ask favors, they took whatever they wanted.

King Arthur did not wait for a reply to continue.

“I’m in need of assistance. And I could use someone with a gift like yours, specifically.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes in minuscule doubt. Doubt of intentions, doubt of his safety.

The King somehow knowing his exact thoughts said

“Of course you would be permitted to come back when you are needed. And when I have accomplished my goal, if you wish, you can leave. I will not keep anyone against their will. I am simply offering.” A small smile played on his mouth. Flush pink lips. He also held up his hands as if to say ‘I will not harm you’.

Merlin’s gut told him to follow this man.

Terrifyingly, his intuition told him to follow this man, practically a stranger, anywhere. Everywhere.

Merlin felt a pull he’s never felt before. In the moment, he assumed it was immense gratitude for saving his life.

Merlin turned to meet his mothers eyes, he already knew what she was going to tell him.

“I think it will be good for you. To get out for a while.” She smiles softly.

“Will you be alright?” He whispered, glancing at the crowd still gathered around an unlit pyre.

“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed him in a bear hug, like she always did. “And if they boot me out, I’ll come find you.”

Merlin sighed into her shoulder.

“Alright.”

When Merlin turned back, the King had turned his eyes to the ground, giving mother and son a moment of privacy.

Merlin was starting to warm to him already.

“Can I pack first?”

King Arthur met his gaze then, doing that half smile thing, again.

“I suppose.” He nodded. “But don’t dawdle we need to move if we want to make it back before sundown.”

“Yes, sire.” The title which usually held reverence and respect, was laced with sarcasm. He didn’t seem to think twice, as he strode away towards their hut to gather his things.

If Merlin had looked back, he would’ve found a fully beaming King looking after him and about six knights with faces of complete shock.

And perhaps, one knowing mother.

[luminiamore]

NEEDY.

brought back to life toji x black reader

warnings: cheating but he offs ur bf so not really?, angst in the beginning, we raised megs with toji, depression in the beginning, this is kinda sad but really cute, no prep just straight sex, reader has locs but it could be whateva u want, overstimulation, soft sex, soft toji, SPOILERS if u haven’t watched the anime.

masterlist

Twelve years.

It’s been that long. Twelve long, agonizing years have passed since you’ve seen Toji. He disappeared on you. Gone. Vanished. One day, he woke you up from a nap and told you he would be gone for a week or so for a job. You understood that his line of work is dangerous. You knew there was a possibility that he could die at any moment.

But he told you not to worry. They were kids, he said.

‘You know me, mama. I don’t die easily.’

He’s a sorcerer killer. He’s strong. It was always apparent to you that he could manage himself. Of course, that never stopped you from worrying.

You began to feel anxious after three weeks. During dinner time, you would cook him meals and fall asleep, hoping that he would come to you stumbling and embrace your body whole as he usually does.

After four weeks, you began to sleep less. The silence in your apartment would haunt you. The sound of every footstep passing by your wooden door and every creak on the floor would make you jump. Imagining that, finally, it would be him who would walk through it. He never did.

After the fifth week, you started calling his boss and friend, but he would never say it out loud. Each time it went to voicemail, you would cry uncontrollably. You may have sent him over one thousand messages, but they all went unanswered. The man probably blocked your number.

You honestly didn’t know what you expected.

Toji tried to keep Shiu and you apart as much as he could. You two were never close. The only thing you had Shiu’s number for was safety purposes, in case you were ever in danger while he was away on the job.

The truth took you five months to accept. To accept that Toji was never going to come back. It took you another three months to come to terms with the fact that Toji was dead.

Throughout all of this, Megumi, his son, gave you comfort. Though it was supposed to be the other way around, you had a feeling he knew what was wrong with you. At times, you couldn’t even get up to cook food and instead chose to order out so he could eat while you lay starving. At the tender age of four, Megumi was skilled in making homemade soup due to your frequent illnesses.

After a year or so, you thought -- you barely left your bed, so you lost track of time, a man came knocking at your door. White hair and bright, bright blue eyes can be seen even with glasses covering his eyes.

You should have fought him, beaten him to a fucking pulp. You’ve always had a keen sense of intuition. You knew he was the one who killed Toji, your Toji. Your gut was screaming that to you.

But what would you be able to do? You had no cursed energy. You couldn’t fight this man even though your husband had taught you some things in his free time. You had no chance against him, and the cocky bastard was aware of that.

He wasn’t here for you anyway. It was obvious to you that when he pushed past you and entered your home, he immediately started to search for Megumi. Knowing that the little boy could see curses, he suspected that his technique was starting to manifest, so he informed him that he could provide assistance.

Hearing the conversation in the kitchen, your breath paused when he mentioned that he would be going to Tokyo. You would be alone, but you refuse to be selfish and force him to watch over you in your depressed state. You urged him to go, urged him to make a change in the world even if it physically pained you.

Megumi made a promise to visit you every year and never leave you. He was truthful to you. Every year, he would spend a week with you, and you would see the boy you helped raise become a capable young man. He would occasionally show you his technique to demonstrate how much he has grown. You couldn’t have been more proud.

It took you 8 years, but you eventually moved on from Toji physically. Your heart still belongs to him emotionally.

Although you never remarried, you did have a boyfriend. He’s a kind man, has a regular corporate job, earns a livable yearly salary, and is not a killer, so there’s no danger of him being murdered. He also treats you nicely, arranging a dinner date every week and a vacation to a nice place every year.

You should’ve been happy. You should love him— why don’t you?

Why is it that every time he fucks you, all you see and think of is Toji? When you respond to his love for you, it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Because you know it’s not true. You know it would never be true.

Megumi has a liking for him and believes he is a good fit for you. After what you went through, it’s fair to say that you deserve this. Though, it’s easy for him to sense how unhappy you are, that you’re putting on a facade in front of the man you’re supposed to love. If the man really knew you, he would understand that every time you smile and kiss him, it was an effort, especially after being together for almost 3 years.

You’re not sure why you never left him. You think this is better than feeling alone. Even if it wasn’t as good as Toji, you still got fucked every other night. It could never be better than Toji. You think he’s ruined you for anyone else.

October 31st, 2018. 11 a.m.

It’s Wednesday, October 31st, and it’s the week Megumi is supposed to come to see you.

You begin your day as you usually do. Your boyfriend wakes you up with a kiss right before he leaves for work, and you groggily force your body straight to the shower. While the eggs sizzle, you make a light breakfast as you stare into space.

As you’re eating, you feel your stomach drop. There is an odd sensation in your gut, a negative one. You experienced the same feeling when Toji died. You hastily pull out your phone and dial Megumi’s number.

One ring. Two. Three rings and no response.

“..Mom?”

His tone is fatigued as if you had woken him from his sleep. At that, you breathe a sigh of relief. However, the feeling persists.

“Are you okay, Megs?”

He sounds confused, although you suspect he can sense your concern in your voice, “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? Is something wrong?”

“Do you have a mission today?”

Your frantic questioning without an answer is now causing him anxiety.

“There’s something going on in Shibuya tonight, so yeah.” You don’t answer him for a beat, just breathing as you feel your heart beating faster as his response.

“Are you okay, mo-”

“Please, don’t go. I have a bad feeling again.”

He sighs, “You know I can’t do that. It’s supposed to be something manageable, nothing too ba-”

You sternly cut him off, “Megumi. It’s not going to be manageable, I can feel it.”

“If you’re saying that, then it means I need to go and help even more, Mom.”

You’re trembling, and- Are you crying? You feel the tear slide down your cheek before you can even register it. You have always been afraid of Megumi going out to fight curses, but for some reason, your fear is growing stronger.

Your breath stutters, “What if- what if you-”

The thought of Megumi getting badly injured or even dying is so terrifying that you can’t even finish your sentence. You don’t believe you can endure that. No, you know you can’t. You’re still grieving over your husband. How could you possibly stomach his death?

This time, he cuts you off, “I can’t promise you that I won’t go. But I can promise to stay at a safe distance so I don’t die.”

“You’re so selfless, it’s infuriating.” You chuckle through your tears, using your unoccupied hand to wipe them off.

“I love you too.” You can tell he’s trying to stifle a laugh of his own.

You smile, even though he can’t see you, “I love you so much. Please, don’t die.”

“I’ll make sure to haunt you if I do.”

A gasp, “Megumi!”

“Joking.. sort of.”

He hangs up with another ‘Love you’ before you can scold him. And now you’re forced to swallow the lump in your throat. It’s okay, you remind yourself. You’re gonna be okay. Megumi is gonna be fine. He’ll come see you on Friday like he usually does. But even you’re aware that you’re just trying to console yourself.

The day is spent trying to distract yourself. You had the time to paint your nails and toes, try on some new outfits that you bought last week, and even try reading a book. But the feeling would never go away. In fact, it intensified as the darkness outside increased.

October 31st, 2018. 11 p.m.

Around 11 p.m., your boyfriend arrived and greeted you with his usual kiss on the cheek and casual discussion about both of your days. Every day, you think, today is the day. Today is the day you’ll get a tingling feeling whenever he kisses you. Today is the day you’ll feel warmth whenever he says he missed you or he loved you.

But it never came, and today was no different. You had made some food and decided to leave some for him, he had taken a liking to your cooking.

“I’m gonna head to bed. You’re gonna join me?”

“In a few, I wanna stay up a little longer.” You whisper, absentmindedly watching the plate he’s eating from. You don’t even notice. You’re entirely zoned out.

He kisses the side of your head when he stands up.

He kisses the side of your head when he stands up, “Okay, thanks for the food, babe. Let’s go out to eat tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sure.”

He pulls back hesitantly, hands still on your shoulder as he observes the lost look in your eyes, “Are you okay, babe? You seem.. out of it.”

All he gets is a slow nod and a small kiss on his knuckles. That seems to be enough for him because he hums and whispers a small “Love you.” and walks away.

The sound of the shower running after a few minutes is your cue to clean up. As you scrub the burnt parts of the pasta you made, you hear your phone ringing. When you glance over, it turns out to be Megumi.

11:38 p.m.

‘why the fuck is Dad alive? he just disappeared after helping me with some curse??’

Your hands become completely limp as the plate you are holding drops abruptly and crashes into the wet sink. Your eyes were wide and unblinking as you stood frozen. Your breath is caught in your throat, making it impossible to exhale. Your mind is overflowing with thoughts, each one more anxious than the last.

What?

You haven’t moved a single inch, but your hands are now shaking.

Toji is what?

No. He’s lying. But that’s not true either. Megumi would never deceive you, especially about his dad being alive. Your hands are trembling as you try to reach for your phone, but you’re stopped in your tracks by a loud crash.

You come out of your frozen state, and as if you’re running on autopilot, you run as fast as you can to the sound that hits the cold tile floor. But what you see next almost causes you to burst into tears because there he is, your husband.

Toji is right there, in your room, holding a sharp red wooden blade against your boyfriend’s neck. He’s in a gray sweater, but even then, you can see his muscles and just how big he is through it. He’s not looking at you, but with the way his shoulders raise and his breath hitches— he knows you’re watching.

Hearing him speak brings a tear to your cheek. It’s been a long time since you last heard his voice. The world seemed to stop moving, leaving you in a surreal moment stuck in time. You can’t believe it, you’ve lost all hope, but he is here. Sending the ugliest glare to the man on the other side of the blade in your bedroom is enough to make you shiver,

“Who the hell is this, baby?”

You say nothing, relishing in the sound of him speaking to you. Your heart pounded fiercely, echoing in your ears, while a wave of dizziness threatened to overwhelm you.

It’s when your boyfriend grunts in an angry tone, “What the fuck is happening, (❤︎)?!” You finally snap out of your stupor.

It’s not a surprise you stutter when you speak, but you don’t even say much. You pitifully let out a squeak of,

“T-Toji?”

You want him to look at you, want him to see you. You want to make sure that it’s really him you’re looking at, but he seems so focused and upset? Your eyes move away from his face briefly to take a glance at the weapon threatening to penetrate your boyfriend’s neck.

You speak so lowly, almost as if you’re ashamed to admit your following words, “My boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend.”

Despite boarding on the brink of death, he still manages to harbor a false confidence when you say that, “Exactly, man, so, who the fuck are you?”

“Her husband.”

At that, your boyfriend chokes, and now his anger is directed towards you, “Husband? You’re married?! We’ve been together for 3 years, and you-”

“He was dead!” You suddenly find your voice, a bit hysterically. You turn to Toji, who still isn’t looking at you but presses harder into his neck. You can see a trickle of blood start to drip. “You were dead- You are dead.”

His response is cold, blunt, “I’m about to kill the bastard standing half naked in my wife’s house, so, no. I’m very much alive, mama.”

“How? How are you alive?”

“Long story.” Is all he utters.

“I’ve waited 12 fucking years, I’m sure you can spare me a little more time.”

At that, he has the audacity to sigh as if you’re the one being difficult. You jump back and yelp when he suddenly plunges the weapon into your boyfriend- ex’s neck. You open your mouth, about to ask him what the hell that was for, but he answers before you can, “Unwanted company.”

When he finally turns his head to look at you, you swear he’s more beautiful than you remember. Everything looks the same, but something’s off. His eyes were blackish, or maybe it was a deep purple color in his sclera— that was supposed to be white, wasn’t it? His pupils are purple, too, or was it blue? You’re not sure, but you don’t find him any less beautiful.

“Toji.. I- how?”

He grumbles, and in one blink, he’s in front of you, hands on your waist and lips immediately logged deep in your neck, not quite sucking but just breathing you in. The action makes you shiver, and the feeling of him so close to you causes more tears to fall. “Some old hag did a seance. Wanted me to kill all sorcerers.”

Your breath hitches, but you sternly reply, “Our son is a sorcerer.”

“Obviously, I’m not going to.”

He smiles at the fact that you said ‘Our.’ He can feel the tears on your neck, and he honestly feels he might drop some of his own. Twelve years in hell—because let’s be real, there was no way someone of his caliber was making it to heaven— and he hasn’t seen you. Hasn’t touched you. He’d rather kill you than not fuck you again- he’d have to force himself to do so.

He’s not ashamed to admit he missed you. He feels guilty for putting you through this, through twelve years with him. He said he was coming back, he couldn’t imagine your despair when he didn’t. He hates himself for causing you that pain, for pushing you into the arms of another man.

He muffled out, “D’ya love him?”

It takes you a minute to answer, you feel a bit ashamed to admit this since he just died, “Never did. I only ever loved you.”

“Loved? You don’t love me anymore?”

You break out another sob, “I never stopped Toji.”

This time, he doesn’t answer, but there’s a nagging question in the back of his mind that he needs answered, “Three years, hm? You fuck him?” Your next words give him the answer he needs.

“Toji- it’s been years! You were-”

“Dead, I know. You didn’t look too sad when he died. He could never fuck you like me, huh?”

He knows he shouldn’t be upset. He knows he has no right to be angry at you. You had every right to move on. He didn’t ghost you or just disappear casually. He was dead. The thought never sat well with him, though. It made his stomach churn. He always told you that if you ever cheated on him, he would kill the man and then himself. He could never bring himself to hurt you physically.

But is it even cheating if he was dead?

A whisper breaks him out of his thoughts, “No.”

What an angel you are. Answering him even when he isn’t even speaking out loud. His mind is confused. So he does what he used to do when he needs to let out his frustrations— use your body as a stress reliever.

When his hands grope your hips, you let out a desperate moan. Fuck you are desperate, you haven’t felt your lover in years.

“Damn- I missed you, baby. Missed how soft you are, missed holding you.” His tongue starts slowly, lapping softly at your collarbone.

Your breath starts getting shaky, and the slick that’s been forming since you first laid eyes on him is dripping down your thighs, “Missed you so much more.”

He’s not in the mood to wait. He’d usually tease you before he impaled you on his dick. But it’s been too long since he felt any warmth from you- he’s not stalling any longer.

“Need to fuck you, now. You remember how to take me, right?”

He was quick with his hands, ripping the nightgown you had on to shreds. You’re bare in front of his gaze, and you can see how he was practically drooling— the man was in a trance.

If Toji is as big as you remember, then taking him would be a challenge. You could never do it without some form of prep, be it him eating you out until you cried or fingering you till your legs trembled. Sometimes it was both. But you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to do either of those right now. He just wanted to stuff you, so you’d have to suck it up and let him.

You give him a shaky nod, “Yes, please.”

He lazily rubs on your engorged bud, spreading your slick all over your fat pussy lips. He releases the most toe-curling moan when he feels how wet you are, and it’s all for him. He doesn’t keep the act up for long and dips two fingers inside. They stretch you so wide you can’t help but buck your hips against the wall he has you pressed on.

“Hnng- Toji! Just put it in, p-please.”

He grunts, but he can never argue against you. Toji forces his tip past your tight walls, and you have to hiss it out. You’re wet enough that the first inch slides in easily, but you’re so tight that he thinks you’re about to squeeze his tip right off.

He groans out, seemingly more out of breath than you are, “Relax, mama. Breathe before you break my dick off.”

“M’trying!” Is your only response. More tears are dripping down your face, both from the pain and how close you are to him.

Toji decides to distract you by rubbing tight circles on your clit, and that causes your breath to stutter and your moans to increase in volume. That does the trick because as you’re focused on the pleasure, he doesn’t hesitate to shove everything into you in one go. All nine inches- but shit, you swear it feels bigger.

“Oh god! It’s too much- I can’t-”

“God took me away from you. Made us spend twelve years apart. It’s not God making you feel this way, it’s me. Focus on me.”

You’re nodding before he can even finish his sentence because he’s right. Toji gives you a few seconds- maybe 30 before his patience runs around, and he starts slowly rutting in you. He knows how big he is. Takes pride in it, too. So, he doesn’t stop rubbing your clit to ease the feeling of him stretching you out.

As he instructs, all your focus is on him. Your hazy eyes focus on his face, his brows furrowed in pleasure, and his lips parted as he pants against you. You can’t help but kiss him, suck his chapped pink lips so hard you can feel his scar against your tongue. And he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back. It isn’t a fight for dominance, Toji easily takes all control of you, and you surrender with no regrets.

You take his cock beautifully, so well. Every time he pushes out, your pussy just pulls him back in, making a wet squelch sound when his hips slap against yours. He can feel the goosebumps on your body whenever his tip presses harshly on your g-spot, and so he keeps the same pace and stroke— determined to make you cum just like this.

You wail out as your eyes roll into the back of your head, “Oh! Right there, don’t s-stop!”

“Never. Won’t ever stop fucking you, baby. Need you to forgive me anyway.”

“For l-leaving me?”

He chuckles against your puffy lips and pulls harshly on your brown locs so your neck cranes to look directly at him, “Yes, mama. I’m sorry for leaving you, for leaving our son. So sorry. Won’t ever do it again, I promise.”

You’re crying again. Tears are flowing freely now, and Toji thinks you’re beautiful and even ethereal. He glances down, and a creamy white paste forms at the base of his cock- getting even more wet each time he pulls out of you.

“I c-cried so much, Toji. For months, for years. You- you-”

“Shh. I know, baby. I know. I’m selfish for doing that, a complete asshole. I’d hate me too.”

You’re nodding, but you could never think of him as such. You would never call Toji anything mean, anything harsh- despite what he put you through.

Your pussy is twitching against him, “Don’t hate you. Could never h-hate you.”

He kisses your lips, all over your face, really, “Yeah? Damn, I love you. You love me?”

“Yes! Yes- I love you. Only you.”

He moans and presses against your stomach, his bulge poking out. Your breaths come in ragged gasps, your body tightening as a wave of pleasure builds inside of you. Your muscles clenched, and an uncontainable rush surged through you. Fuck, you’re gonna come.

Toji can feel it, and his slow pace speeds up. He whispers in your ear, pulling at your lobe, “Cum, baby. Go ahead, I need it.”

Finally, with a shuddering cry, you tipped over the edge. Ecstasy washed over you in powerful, pulsing waves. Your body trembled a blissful release, leaving you breathless and utterly spent. Despite your haze, Toji doesn’t stop, nor do you feel his thick cum flowing past your walls.

He can sense the confusion in you, and all he does to ease your mind is, “3 years, right? How about 3 orgasms for every year I wasn’t with you, huh? Think we can reach 36, mama?”

Your eyes widen in disbelief because that doesn’t even sound possible, but you’re distracted by another toe-curling orgasm ripping through you- your clit pulsing in overstimulation. As always, he knows what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t seem to be backing down with his next words.

“Yeah, I think we can.”

[tender-rosiey]

swear on love — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I am alive!! better late than never but here’s my gojo coming back drabble (ceo gojo has been thrown into a corner)

something your son has learned is that if his dad, satoru, swears on his love for you then he will never break that promise.

like the first time he had asked his dad to take him to the amusement park he saw on the tv, satoru beamed, ruffling his son’s hair and telling him that he will.

when your son told him to promise him, satoru instead said, “I swear on my love for your pretty mama that I will take you there.”

it makes you flustered and makes your heart flutter—maybe even cringe a little, but who complains about having a man down bad for them plus he somehow makes it cute.

in addition to that, satoru never fails to look at you whenever he makes that promise and god knows that his gaze makes you feel weak in the knees.

he also goes to you right after, almost by instinct, to hug you and call you his ‘pretty wife’ and the ‘mother of his child’ — ‘and future ones’ he adds, but you’re quick to smack him when he does.

nonetheless, your son was quick to learn that it was the only type of promise his dad wouldn’t break.

it was october 31 when your husband has last made a promise to his son.

while the three of you were chilling in the living room, satoru was suddenly called for. he had to go to shibuya. your son was bummed, of course, but reluctantly let go of him.

“I won’t take any time buddy, don’t worry,” he said, patting your son’s head.

your son squirmed a bit before speaking up, softly, “you will come back safely, right?”

satoru simply noded with a smile.

your son, pouting –something he definitely inherited from his dad—looked up to him and stuck his pinky finger out, “you promise?”

your husband only chuckled, “I swear on my love for mama, champ.”

your son’s grin was unrivalled as he gave his dad thumbs up, “okay! I trust you!”

before departing, satoru took you in his arms and gave you one last kiss, giving you a promise of your own of coming back soon.

it has been 19 days since then.

everything has gone to chaos; everything was going wrong in all the possible ways. people you care about were dying left and right and the only thing you could do was protect your son with everything you got.

you’re often reminded of the time when your son had asked you, a week after his dad had been stuck in the prison realm, “mama, did dad break his promise?”

you could only smile sadly at him and whisper, “no, honey, he is just—going to fulfil it a bit late this time.”

now, you were with yuji, toge, shoko, and angel, along with some others, to finally get satoru of the prison realm.

yuji was a bit nervous and asked, “what if it…doesn’t work? or something happens—“

“don’t say that!”

all heads turn to your son who is barely holding his tears back, “dad said that he will be back! he promised me! he never breaks his promises!”

he looks at you, eyes pleading for assurance, “you know that, right, mama?”

tears of your own threaten to spill as you nod weakly at your son who runs and hugs you tightly, mumbling, “daddy will be back safely; I know it.”

you smile and pat his head, “I trust both of you.”

when they finally go through with the opening of the prison realm, it disappears right away.

your son’s grip on your shirt tightens as his eyes search frantically for his father everywhere around him, “where is he…?”

meanwhile, kenjaku smiles menacingly while looking at gojo, the newly freed man, “your wife and son must be pleased that you’re back, huh?”'

gojo smirks, “as am I, but I think it’s none of your business.”

both stare into each other before gojo quips, turning his back to the man, “well, I will meet you on december then!”

“oh? why is that?”

gojo stretches and walks to pick a few flowers. kenjaku is left confused as he watches the white-haired sorcerer make a bouquet.

“to put it simply, my wife and son are more important than you,” he smiles, “and I wouldn’t want to have two anniversary deaths on the same day.”

kenjaku cackles, “so you think you will win?”

satoru grins, “I will win.”

and without a word, he teleports to you.

“hey sweets!—“

you punch him in the guts and he yelps, “that’s not how you greet your husband—“

you then pull him into a very tight embrace, cutting him off once again, “I thought I lost you, asshole.”

you fist his shirt in your hand and bury your face in his chest before full on sobs escape you.

gojo’s eyes soften and he starts rubbing your back soothingly, “didn’t believe I would come back? you wound me doll.”

satoru nudges you lightly, “what do you think of the bouquet?”

you look at it and fondly roll your eyes.

he’s back.

your son runs to him screaming, “dad, you’re back! you’re back! I knew you would! i told them, but no one believed me!”

your husband picks your son up with his free arm and rests his forehead on his, “thanks for trusting me; sorry for keeping you wait.”

he’s here.

you shake your head, lightly, before nuzzling into his chest, “it’s okay…you’re here.”

“mama is right!”

satoru kisses both your foreheads before whispering, “I am here.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspenguin- @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will domain expansion yo ass

[blueblossomrose]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SATORU GOJO! 🎂

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader

Content: Fluffy, Gojo is a dad, female reader, is implied that reader is younger than Gojo,

Notes: December 7 was Gojo's birthday and I wanted to give my man a present 😩 but I was uninspired 😐 really nice, so, belated happy birthday, Gojo! 💗

Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

It was almost three-fifteen in the morning.

The soft light from the bedside lamp in the room barely illuminated the room. The low, rhythmic sound of the baby monitor, a muffled noise at first, soon became impossible to ignore for Satoru, who woke up with a frustrated groan.

He was lying in bed, where he had fallen asleep wearing only a crumpled t-shirt and sweatpants. A messy strand of his white hair fell over his eyes as he sat up, rubbing his face with his hands.

"That brat is going to kill me one of these days…" he muttered softly, his sleep-hoarse voice full of sarcasm but with a hint of genuine exhaustion.

[Name], who was lying on the right side, was also awakened from her sleep by the noise of the baby monitor. She was about to get up to go to the baby's room, but Satoru stopped her.

"Let me…"

"Are you sure?" She said, soft and worried.

"Yes, I can handle it. Go back to sleep,” he replied, giving a tired half-smile, before getting up from the bed.

He stood up with slow and somewhat clumsy steps as he walked down the dark hallway of the house to the baby’s room.

Little Kazuya was standing in his crib, holding onto the bars with his tiny fingers, his big, sleepy eyes looking straight at the door. His white hair, which he had inherited from Satoru, was all messy, and his red little face indicated that he had probably been crying for a while.

“Huh? What now?” Satoru grumbled, trying to sound serious, but failing miserably when he saw the innocent and curious look on the baby’s face.

As he approached, the boy stretched out his arms in an automatic gesture, a silent plea that Satoru could not ignore. He leaned over and picked the little one up, feeling the warmth of the trembling little body against his chest. The baby let out a soft sob, the crying finally subsiding now that he was in his father’s arms.

"Do you know what time it is?" Satoru whispered. "Three in the morning, young man. Do you have any idea how important your old man's sleep is?"

Kazuya, of course, didn't answer. Instead, he let out an adorable yawn and rested his head on Satoru's shoulder, causing the sorcerer to let out a long, resigned sigh.

"Tsk, that's what happens when you have my genetics... you can't even sleep like a normal child."

As he murmured, his tone was softer now. Satoru began to rock the baby with slow, rhythmic movements, walking in circles around the room. He ran his free hand gently over his son's back, feeling him slowly relax. Silence returned, except for the distant sound of the city sleeping outside and Kazuya's increasingly slow breathing.

Satoru looked down at the sleeping face of the baby, who was now fast asleep in his lap. The constant arrogance disappeared, replaced by a tender gaze.

"I don't know how you did it, brat... but it seems like you're starting to soften me up," he whispered, before carefully placing Kazuya back in his crib. He straightened up and stood there for a moment, watching his son sleep. A part of Satoru wondered how he, someone so used to living on the edge between strength and pride, now found himself surrendered to such a fragile and small creature.

"This world doesn't deserve you."

Walking back into the room, he saw [Name] there. She was half-awake, her face illuminated by the dim light of the lamp, her expression soft and restless.

Satoru looked at her and sighed. He lay down on the bed next to her. They stared at each other in silence for a while, before she spoke. "Did he fall asleep?"

"Yes." He mumbled. "After making me spin around with him for 7 minutes."

[Name] laughed softly. "I consider that pretty quick for his sleeping patterns."

"Oh, sure..." Satoru rolled his eyes, but soon smiled when he heard her laugh.

It wasn't just the sound itself, but the fact that she was more comfortable, more at ease than when he had known her. When their paths had crossed, [Name] had been as shy and reserved as a flower before spring. The memory of her back then — her eyes always downcast, her fear of speaking her mind — still haunted him. But there, in the dim light of the night, as she smiled softly with a light humor, he saw how much she had changed. And, perhaps, how much he had changed too.

"Tomorrow is your birthday," [Name] says, her eyes fixed on his, a warm expression lighting up her face.

"Hm? Oh, yes," Satoru answers absently, as if he had forgotten, but the slight glint in his blue eyes indicated otherwise.

"I want to make you a cake."

"A cake, huh? What flavor?" he asked, arching an eyebrow curiously, his tone slightly playful.

"It's a secret! The flavor will be a surprise."

Satoru tilted his head with a mocking smile. "If it was supposed to be a surprise, there would be no need to even talk about the cake, right?"

[Name] laughed, covering her mouth with her hand, as she did whenever she tried to be discreet. "Satoru, you are a silly!"

Satoru. The sound of his own name did something strange inside him. Not in a bad way — quite the opposite. It had been a while since anyone had called him that, by his first name, and the feeling remained funny, almost unsettling, like a distant memory of the intimacy he was no longer used to having.

He couldn't remember the last time someone had called him Satoru so naturally, without reverence, without fear or weight. It was strange. But it was good.

When he was at home, with [Name] and his son, he wasn't the strongest jujutsu sorcerer Satoru Gojo. He was just Satoru. Just Satoru.

That small realization made him smile softly, without notice it. When [Name] noticed, she laughed again, for no apparent reason, just because the lightness of the moment seemed contagious. Satoru accompanied her laughter with a muffled sound, almost a laugh, but low, careful not to wake little Kazuya in the next room.

He looked up at the ceiling, his body relaxing further against the mattress. Satoru lightly squeezed her hand, still intertwined with his.

He didn't need to be the strongest one. He didn't need to prove anything to anyone.

The house returned to silence. The only sound was the calm rhythm of their breathing. When he finally closed his eyes, still holding her hand, Satoru felt that, for the first time in a long time, he was not alone in the world.

And that was enough.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

A Royal Pain In The Ass

Yandere Male Alpha x Male Omega Reader (CW: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, INCEST, non-con, male reader, a/b/o, ass eaten like it is groceries, blowjob, marking, biting, knotting, musk, general yandere behavior, necromancy, assassination, minor character death, angst, pain, violent sex, breeding, forced feminization, size difference) Word Count: 2.9k (This is probably the worst thing I have ever written, but I think I covered all the appropriate warnings. Sorry for any mistakes I did proofread, but I did not have this beta read.)

Your father, King Esmer, had been among the wisest and most powerful kings in all the world. He had led decisive victories in war, chosen brilliant advisors, and knew when to rule kindness and when to rule with a bit of a sterner hand. Overall he had been much loved by all the classes and had truly united his kingdom, alphas, betas, and omegas alike. But as he grew older many in the royal court began to fear that your brother, Prince Vairthold, would become a tyrant of a monarch. He had always been a bit of a demanding brat, but as he grew so too did his arrogance and entitlement, and when he presented as an alpha he became an accomplished warrior, his powerful muscles and keen instinct allowing him to become a terror on the field. It did nothing to staunch the growth of his ego. Your father could not see it, as blinded as he was by denial and love for his first born, so he would not hear of it when his advisors wanted him to choose another heir. Perhaps one more malleable and temperate such as you, his younger son, an omega. “He will grow into the role,” he would always say, “I had to learn and change a lot too when I first started. Besides, most lords just would not accept an omega ruler.” And that would be the end of the discussion. But once Esmer had passed his successor wasted no time in changing how things were to be done. They were, in the grand scheme of things, very minor changes at first. Statues built, mundane orders carried out, nothing too unusual or threatening. But within months your older sibling allowed a dark sorcerer in the court in a high advisory position. Dark magic was not something that had been allowed in any capacity previously, but your brother had searched long to create someone to place in this position. When he finally had the magic user that he so desired he became not just arrogant and demanding, but colder and crueler as well. He did not go out slaughtering people, though laws did become more draconian, with several inmates disappearing in the dead quiet of night. He also revoked many of the laws and rights that omegas had previously enjoyed under his predecessors, making them basically under the ownership of their alpha or beta relatives unless they were single and had no family. You, being an omega yourself, were almost never allowed out of your brother’s sight, even being forced to stay in his bedroom. The only time you were not with him was when he was off in the darkness of night consorting with his dark advisor, and even then he left the bulkiest beta knights he could find to guard the door and make sure you had zero chance of escape. Your older sibling had always been far too possessive over you, some people, including your late father, might have mistaken his behavior as merely how a protective alpha is supposed to act around their smaller omega family members. But you knew better, you could tell there was something impure about the way you caught him leering at you, something off about how he had kept away any and all courters, something wicked in the way his expression changed when you were in heat and he caught a whiff of your scent. He had never been particularly mean to you, perhaps a bit of bullying here and there, but ever since he had changed the laws and the status of omegas he had been a lot more gruff with you. Not tolerating any dissent. If you resisted he would not hesitate to slap you across the face, but if you cooperated and did not complain he would often reward you with little gifts for your good behavior. Over time you learned never to complain, and so far nothing terrible had happened, but you did not trust his intentions at all. You dreaded to think what would happen if you had your heat now when he was always so close. He had not just forced you to sleep in his bedroom but to make a nest for yourself there too. You knew what it implied and you did not like it one bit. But a few months into his rule, as he started ignoring his court less and less, right as your heat was starting, he died. He was assassinated in his sleep. You were not involved at all in his murder, how could you be when you were constantly under the watch of him or his guards, but you did not raise a huge fuss over it either. You had been freed. Just in time. But it was only a delay of the inevitable. Soon after you had been crowned all those who had been involved with the assassination died, one by one. It was as if there had been some curse on the act of killing your brother and there was fear and dismay among the court and kingdom as a whole. You had never really been raised to rule, you mostly went by the advice of your council, they may have been using you as a puppet king to talk through, but they were good honest people who had wanted the best for the kingdom. With so few of them left you were buckling under the weight of your responsibility. But it would not be yours for long. After the last traitor of your sibling had been done away with, a few months into your reign and right as your heat was starting again, your brother and his wizard, who had gone missing after your brother’s murder, came sauntering into the castle, right in front of the throne as you were holding publicly addressing the problems of your lower-born subjects. There were whispers and murmurs among the guard and the present nobles. He looked different, blueish grey skin, dark rings around his now violet eyes, and his bright blonde hair had faded a bit, but he was still unmistakable as anyone but Vairthold. The deceased king. You, and everyone else present, were shocked and speechless. Had he faked his death? Why did he look so odd? Terror and hopelessness filled your heart as you knew immediately he had been responsible for the deaths of those involved in the plot against him and you were sure you would be next. He ordered the guards to remove everyone from the room except you. They hesitated briefly but decided that if your brother was not dead, and he seemingly had the ability to kill anyone who had tried to stand against him, then he was still their rightful king and they better be quick about following his orders. Vairthold smirked at you as they did his bidding while slowly approaching you, causing you to slink back against the throne with your arms in front of you protectively. The guards had left along with his magic using companion, so you were alone with him and he could do whatever he wanted with you. He wordlessly plucked the crown from your trembling form and placed it atop his head instead. “Awe, don’t be scared, little prince. I was mad at you for not avenging me, but I know you are just a weakling little omega doing what you were told. I am sorry I left you like I did, you must have been so terrified, but I wanted to become a lich, and I had to get rid of all those who would have stopped me.” You could not bear to meet his gaze, your lip trembled in fear, and your eyes were beginning to fill with tears. A lich was an immortal abomination made of magic that few believed in. If he truly was one then this couldn’t get any worse. Except it could, because under all the fear and anxiety there was another scent that had just graced your brother’s nostrils. Your heat. He began nuzzling his nose at your neck and underarms. In a rare act of defiance, perhaps forgetting exactly what he was for a moment, you tried to push away his head with all your might but he just chuckled and pinned your hands to the side. He had never been this brazen before. “It’s good that you’re feisty sometimes, shows that you’re strong, bet you’ll make us lots of strong heirs. I’ll forgive you for being uncooperative this time, putting you in front of subjects today when you’re in heat is bound to make your head a bit off. I should kill them all.” At his mention of heirs you redoubled your efforts to push him off, to somehow wiggle out of his grip, there was no way you could let this monster put anything inside of you. “N-no, this is my throne n-now! Y-y-you have to stop!” It was a pathetic display really, but a bit surprising coming from you. He smacked you with enough force to sting, but you knew he was not really trying to hurt you, just trying to remind you of your place. “Awe, that’s too cute, if you wanted the throne all you had to do was ask~ I will let you use it later.” He quickly disrobed and ripped off all of your clothing, leaving you bare beneath his hungry gaze. All your squirming and panicked pleas did nothing to stop him bending down and assaulting your neck with sloppy licks and kisses. You could smell the musk practically radiating off of him, it was making you dizzy, his smell had never interested you in the slightest and it still didn’t You could tell by his pheromones that he was a virile and fertile alpha, in any other alpha it may be attractive, but it only made your brother more terrifying. He did not have the same opinion of your scent, it had been driving him wild for years, but now was the first time he could freely indulge himself. He alternated between sniffing and licking your underarms and neck, he had longed for this for years and no one could stop him now. After making sure that you both utterly reeked of one another, he got between your legs on the ground in front of the throne and put your legs over his shoulder. Your mind felt distressed to the core, but your body had different plans, you could not control how it reacted. Especially when under the direct affections of such a powerful alpha during heat. You felt disgusted with yourself when you realized your cock was rock hard and felt slick start to leak out onto the throne beneath you, but your brother was thrilled. The smell emanating from your desperate little virgin hole was divine and he wasted no time at all in pulling your ass close to his face and sliding his tongue right in. The flavor was even better, so full of your pheromones, the taste was so intimately yours and he knew he was the only one that ever had or ever would get the chance to savor it. It was a royal treasure that only he and he alone was worthy enough for. A small involuntary moan escaped your attempt at stifling it and encouraged him to keep going. You really couldn’t help it, you were so grossed out, scared, and overstimulated that you were crying even as you instinctively spread your legs wider for him to get better access. You could feel his warm tongue sliding all around your entrance, stretching and warming it up. He pulled his face away from your ass and sniffed and licked at your precious little nuts, they were so tiny and delicate, unlike his big alpha balls. The scent you had there drove him wild. He started sucking on them before licking up your relatively small shaft and sucking your cock until he felt you buck into his mouth and cum all over his tongue. He moaned softly as he swallowed it all down. “I’m disgusting. That was wrong,” you muttered under your breath as you stared blankly at nothing in particular. “How could someone so sweet and perfect be disgusting? How could you think something that felt so good could possibly be wrong? Don’t worry princess, I know something that will feel so good you won’t even be able to form thoughts like that~” That was enough to jolt you from your post-orgasmic daze and revulsion, as your brother leaned over you, greedy hands busy groping and caressing up and down your sides. “I’m not a princess!!” You shrieked as you rocketed upwards from the throne and headbutt your lustful sibling as hard as you could. The unexpected impact caused even a large alpha such as himself to stumble backwards. You did not waste a fraction of a second to exploit the opening and started to get up past him. But he was no stranger to physical combat and knew how to recover quickly. He grabbed your arm and pulled you over to himself with great force. He sat on the cushioned throne and lifted you easily, forcing you to face him as you straddled his lap. When you felt the force with which he was grabbing you and saw the violence in his eyes as a small trickle of blood flowed from his nose you immediately regret assaulting him. “Let me be VERY clear, I am the king. And you ARE my princess. And when we are married you WILL be my queen. And there is nothing you can do about it.” You instinctively whimpered softly at the anger of the bristling alpha. He ignored it and focused on putting you in your place, submitting to him and impaled on his cock. Vairthold lifted you up and slammed you down on his cock. You screamed loud as it stretched and hurt in ways you had not conceived of. You knew he had stretched you. You knew there would certainly be blood. Even your slick couldn’t make this painless when he was driving into you so forcefully while you were so tense. “This could have been a lot easier on you, but you wanted to play rough!” With his hands gripping your sides painfully he lifted you up and slammed you back down on his dick repeatedly, thrusting upwards into you each time for added force. With each thrust you whimpered and yelped out in pain, your mind breaking a bit by bit. It felt like you were being stabbed. His nails began digging in, bruising your sensitive flesh as he only escalated the force he was using, you thought you were going to pass out, you even began to welcome it. “Puh-plea-ease, p-please. I’m s-s-sorry. I’ s-sorry. I-I’m sorry.” You sniffled and stammered, tears and snot running unattractively down your face, though your “partner” didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “Say... You’re... My... Princess…” He spat each word through gritted teeth, emphasizing each by painfully pulling you down on his cock. “I-i’m your p-pr-prin-ce-cessss.” You struggled to form the words but once you had the change was immediate. He began slowing down to a much more merciful pace before pulling your trembling form close to him. It was still extremely painful, given the abuse your hole had just endured, but you tried to not focus on it. You could not bear to look at him so you just buried your crying face into his chest instead. Vairthold took this as a sign that you were willingly seeking comfort from him as your alpha so he slowed down a bit more. As he slowly slid his cock in and out of you, a mixture of slick with a bit of blood leaking down his shaft, he licked, kissed, and nuzzled the sensitive scent gland on your neck to try to comfort you. You had hurt him, but you had submitted to your king, so you didn’t deserve anymore pain. “You’re being such a good girl for me, I am gonna put so many babies in that belly.” You sobbed a bit louder but made no movements against him. He stroked your back soothingly as his knot swelled up inside you, tying the both of you together right before his cock spasmed and began filling you up with seed. As he came he bit down on your neck hard, officially marking you as his mate. By the mercy of the gods you finally passed out, sparing you the pain of being conscious while tied to your alpha. King Vairthold licked your neck clean of the blood he had just drawn and cuddled you protectively, his instincts telling him to keep his mate safe at all costs. When his knot finally allowed him to, he slid out of your ass before bundling you up and carrying upstairs to your private chambers. He cleaned you off carefully and laid you in your bed, before sliding in beside you and wrapping his arms around your waist. As he lay there with his princess in his arms he could scarcely wait for the preparations to turn you into a lich to be completed. He was going to keep you with him for all eternity.

[wisecura]

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1

p.6  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.8

p.7

AN: Oh babe, this thing was a real bitch 'n a half to crank out. Sorry for the delay. I was right in the thick of editing when Google Chrome had the audacity to update itself. I will never edit on my ao3 text box ever again. lesson fucking learned, yeah? get ready for somethin

warnings: this story may cover sensitive and uncomfortable topics. please read at your own risk, yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.

Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside his moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.

the bitch n' a half

Megumi’s decision to enroll at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech caught you completely off guard.

For as long as you’d known him, he’d shown little interest in becoming a sorcerer, dismissing the world of cursed spirits and exorcisms as something he didn’t want to be a part of.

You’d never pestered him about his cursed technique either, sensing early on that it wasn’t a topic of interest to him. You figured if he ever wanted to talk about it, he would.

So when he announced his plans at the dinner table, the words felt like they’d come out of nowhere, leaving you blindsided.

“You’re…serious about this?” you asked, trying to keep your tone steady, though the surprise was clear in your voice.

Megumi gave a small nod, his expression as stoic as ever, but there was a fierce determination in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Yeah,” he said simply, his voice firm. Just where the hell—

You were supportive, of course—you’d never hold him back from a choice like this—but his sudden decision, combined with the way he’d been acting over the summer, left you feeling....unsettled. Something about it just didn’t add up.

The change in Megumi had been slow and subtle, but impossible to miss.

Over the past three months, he’d grown distant, retreating into himself and spending more time in his room than with you.

The boy who used to trail after you, helping with chores or lingering in the kitchen just to chat, now seemed intent on keeping his distance. It was as if an invisible wall had sprung up between you—a large, impenetrable barrier that left you feeling helpless and unsure of how to reach him. You're relationship regressing to something that felt a little more than just indifference. And the ache of his absence settled heavily in your chest, a familiar weight that was all too similar to the isolation you’d endured within your clan.

Whenever you tried to ask gently if something was wrong, his responses were curt and dismissive.

“I’m fine,” he’d mutter. His tone sharp enough to discourage any further questions. If you pressed, he’d retreat entirely, shutting down any chance of meaningful conversation.

It wasn’t just his words that had changed—his entire demeanor was different.

He’d grown skittish, almost wary. A casual touch on his shoulder or a playful ruffle of his hair—gestures he once accepted without hesitation—would now make him flinch, his cheeks flushing an uncharacteristic red. Not meeting your eyes.

Hugs, something he’d finally grown comfortable with over time, had disappeared altogether, replaced by a deliberate and careful distance.

Even when you knocked on his door to call him for meals, he’d answer from behind it. His voice clipped and muffled rather than coming out like he used to. Like he was afraid of you.

You couldn’t pinpoint what had caused the shift, but it left you anxious, as if something important was slipping through your fingers.

You’d tried bringing up Megumi’s decision to become a sorcerer with Toji, hoping for some clarity or even reassurance. Instead, he’d brushed you off with his trademark nonchalance.

“Well, it’s the kid’s death wish. What do I have to do with it?” he’d muttered, though his irritation was poorly hidden. Toji’s avoidance of the topic didn’t help.

When Megumi did emerge from his room, he seemed different each time you saw him, the changes more noticeable as the weeks passed. Over the summer, he’d shot up in height, now towering a head or two above you by the break’s end.

His lean frame had started to fill out, and his once-soft features had taken on a subtle sharpness, hinting at the man he was growing into.

But it wasn’t just his appearance.

Megumi carried himself differently now, with a quiet restraint that felt intentional, as though he were holding something back. Even his interactions with Toji had shifted. The explosive arguments that once echoed through the house had become less frequent, replaced by a tense silence that felt all the more suffocating.

And with each passing day, you heard less and less from Megumi altogether.

Maybe it’s just hormones. Was I this moody at his age?

Adding to your unease was the unsettling shift in Toji’s presence. He’d been around more lately, taking up the spaces Megumi left vacant, though his company wasn’t exactly comforting.

His sharp taunts and teasing demeanor made every interaction feel strained and somewhat awkward. And then there were those quiet dinners—the ones where it was just the two of you sitting across the table.

Still, you exchanged a few sentences here and there, yet the silences always seemed heavier than the words.

Toji had noticed the change in Megumi, too, though his reaction was far from helpful. Instead of offering advice or insight, he leaned into his usual brand of provocation.

He spent more time loitering in the kitchen, leaning lazily against the counter with that infuriating smirk that seemed to suggest he knew far more than he let on.

“Looks like the kid’s growing up,” Toji drawled one evening, his sharp eyes flicking toward you as you worked at the stove. “Getting pretty tall now, too. Bet he doesn’t need you hovering over him anymore.”

You frowned, sparing him a glance. “I wasn’t hovering,” you said, turning back to the pot. Still, your tone carried a note of defensiveness you couldn’t entirely hide. Always when it came to Megumi.

“Sure you weren’t,” Toji said, his smirk ever-widening. “Though I gotta admit, it’s funny, you know. Watching him get all flustered around you. Kid blushes like a lovesick fool.”

Your grip on the spoon tightened, and you sighed, shaking your head in exasperation. “What are you even on about now?”

Toji’s teasing tone dropped slightly, a sharper edge creeping into his teasing voice as he stepped closer.

“Come on, it’s obvious. You really don’t see it? The way he stumbles over himself? Turns bright red every time you so much as pat his shoulder? The kid’s got it bad.”

Your hand froze mid-stir, Toji’s words hitting you like a bucket of ice water. Slowly, you turned to glare at him, heat creeping up your neck despite your best efforts to stay composed.

“That’s ridiculous,” your voice low and tight, attempting to dismiss the insinuation.

Toji, ever the perceptive fucker, didn’t miss a thing. His smirk deepening, his amusement clear.

“Is it, though?”  he drawled, his tone thick with mockery. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. His eyes zoning in on you. “You sure about that?”

“Cut it out,” you snapped, your irritation bubbling over. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, sure, sure,” he said lazily, clearly enjoying himself. “But you gotta admit, it’s a little weird. Him acting that way around his mom. And with you being so… sweet with him? You’re what—eighteen? You wanna play mommy that bad?”

The taunt made you flinch slightly.

“What? Don’t like the title? Cause Megs sure seems to love calling you that when he thinks I’m not around. "Mom this, Mom that." Real cute, honestly.”

Your stomach twisted at his words, a mix of embarrassment and frustration rising in your chest.

“He calls me that because I’m his stepmother,” you shot back, trying to sound firm, though the conviction in your voice wavered.

Toji leaned in, his breath ghosting over your neck, his tone dipping into something darker and deliberately provocative. “Oh, yeah? Swear I’ve heard him at night,” he said, his words slow and venomous. “‘Mommy—Mommy,’” he mocked, dragging the word out sinfully, savoring each syllable as his grin twisted into something wicked.

He watched your face carefully, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as your expression froze in shock. “Not exactly what you’d expect to hear coming from your kid’s room, huh?”

His words hit you like a slap, sending a shiver up your spine. Heat surged to your cheeks as you angled yourself away, gripping the spoon tighter.

“Toji,” you snapped, your voice sharp, teetering between embarrassment and frustration. “That’s disgusting.”

“What?” he replied with a feigned look of innocence, shrugging lazily, though the malicious glint in his eyes didn’t waver. He finally leaned back.

“I’m just pointing out what I’ve noticed. Kid’s got a lot on his mind these days, doesn’t he? He may not be talking to you, but trust me—he’s thinking about you. A lot.”

“That’s enough,” you bit out, your voice firm. But Toji’s continued on.

“Hear me out,” his voice thick with mockery, and far too laid back for the topic at hand.

“Before all this sorcerer crap, he was glued to your hip. Don’t act like you didn’t notice. Always trailing after you like you hung the damn moon. And you? You let him. No—you didn’t just let him—you encouraged it.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you stirred the pot, refusing to meet his gaze. “He’s just a kid,” you said tightly, your voice low. “He needed someone to lean on.”

Toji barked out a laugh, the sound cold and condescending. “Yeah, lean on. That’s what you wanna call it. Kid doesn’t just lean on you, sweetheart. He worships you. You can’t tell me you haven’t seen the way he looks at you, like you’re the only person on Earth who gives a damn about him.”

“He’s figuring things out,” you retorted, trying to inject some finality into your words—end this shitty conversation with him, though even you could feel the weakness in them. “It’s just a phase.”

“A phase,” Toji repeated with a snort. “Right. A phase that’s got him locking himself in his room and avoiding you like the plague. You think that’s normal? You think he’s just ‘figuring things out’? Sweetheart, I’ll give him six months before he grows a pair and spills his guts. Don’t come crying to me when the kid drops a confession on you.”

The spoon clattered against the edge of the pot as your hands stilled, and you turned to glare at him, your heart pounding. Why were his words effecting you so much?

“Megumi’s not like that,” you said firmly, though the quiver in your voice betrayed your conviction.

He tilted his head as if considering you.

“Maybe yes, maybe no. But don’t kid yourself, sweetheart. The way he’s acting? He doesn’t just see you as his stepmom. When he finally figures it out…” He trailed off, his grin widening, flashing his canines. “Oh, It’s gonna get real messy—for the both of you.”

Your fists clenched, heat flooding your face as frustration and unease warred within you.

“Are you done?” you hissed. “Can you stop now?”

Ignoring you, he chuckled, a low, grating sound that made your skin crawl. “Don’t be surprised if I kick the bucket and you end up with a marriage proposal on your hands. Kid’s already been giving me those killer glares. It'll be any day now, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, desperate to shake the knot tightening in your chest. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, turning your back on him and focusing intently on stirring the pot.

“Maybe,” Toji said with a crooked grin, tossing a wink your way that only made your irritation spike. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And with that, he strolled out, leaving the room in a silence that felt heavy and suffocating. His words shouldn’t have gotten to you—absurd, cruel, teasing for the sake of his own amusement—but they lingered, scratching at the corners of your mind like an itch you couldn’t ignore.

The way Megumi had been acting lately—so distant, so evasive—came rushing back to you.

Was it really just growing pains? A harmless, fleeting crush? It was normal for boys his age to feel that way, wasn’t it? But Toji’s pointed remarks, for all their venom, planted a seed of doubt that you couldn’t easily dismiss.

Even so, you couldn’t ignore the ache in your chest that came from missing him.

The day before Megumi was set to leave for Jujutsu Tech, you made a quiet vow to yourself. His growing distance, the walls he’d carefully built between you—it all weighed heavily on your heart. You couldn’t let him go without at least trying to understand what had caused the rift.

Despite the silence between you and the lingering sting of Toji’s teasing remarks, you couldn’t deny the soft spot you had for him. No matter how far he went or what path he chose, you wanted him to leave knowing one thing—he would always have a home with you. Always.

Softly, you knocked on Megumi’s door, the sound echoing in the stillness of the hallway. From inside, there was a creak of the bed, then his low, detached, "Yeah?"

"Can I come in for a minute?" you asked gently, your voice betraying the uncertainty you felt.

After a moment’s pause, his footsteps approached, the door creaking open.

Megumi stood there, towering over you, his sharp gaze locking onto yours with an unreadable expression that made your chest tighten. His recent distance, the coldness in his demeanor, still left you feeling somewhat awkward.

"I just wanted to talk," you said softly, breaking the tension. His eyes flickered away, thinking for a moment, before returning to meet yours. With a small nod, he stepped aside, allowing you to enter.

You hesitated, nerves prickling under his impassive stare, but forced yourself to step inside. This was Megumi—the same boy who used to shadow your every step, who helped with chores and sat with you on quiet evenings.

But now, the room felt heavier, the air charged with something unsettling. Unfamiliar. You perched on the edge of his bed, your hands nervously smoothing over your knees, while he leaned casually against his desk. The distance he maintained felt purposeful, deliberate.

He looked so different. His posture was composed, his arms crossed as he regarded you with an air of quiet authority that felt nearly foreign. His once-boyish features were sharper now—defined cheekbones, a strong jawline, and piercing eyes that seemed far older than they should.

He looked uncannily like Toji.

Handsome. The word slipped unbidden into your thoughts, and your stomach twisted with discomfort. You immediately pushed it aside. This was Megumi—your stepchild. You were the adult here, a maternal figure. There was no room for such thoughts, no excuse for the nervous energy buzzing under your skin.

“What’re you doing here?” His voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, startling you. It was sharp, direct, his gaze cool as it swept over you. The weight of his attention made you squirm, a sensation you couldn’t quite place.

“I—” You faltered, suddenly unsure of how to bridge the gap that had grown between you. “I just… I wanted to talk. You’re leaving tomorrow, and you’ve been avoiding me.”

His expression didn’t shift, but his head tilted slightly, as if considering your words. His eyes, however, lingered. They moved deliberately, tracing the curve of your neck, the nervous way your hands fidgeted in your lap. There was something in his gaze—quiet, intense, and unsettlingly focused.

You looked away, heat rushing to your cheeks. There was no reason to feel this nervous, no reason for the air to feel so charged. It’s Megumi. And yet, the way he was watching you, the sheer presence he carried now, made you feel small, vulnerable, like you were suddenly under scrutiny.

It reminded you too much of Toji—the quiet confidence, the unnerving calm, the way he seemed to peel back your layers without a word. You felt desperate to ease the silent tension.

“I just…” you stammered again, your voice weaker now. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. We haven’t… we haven’t talked much lately.”

Megumi didn’t reply, yet his stare remained, and for a moment, you swore there was something almost predatory in his expression—an intensity that made your chest tighten.

When he finally moved, it was slow, deliberate, like he didn’t want to spook you.

Pushing off the desk, he crossed the short distance between you, his steps measured and quiet. You stiffened, your breath catching as he loomed closer, his shadow falling over you. Your instincts screamed to move, to retreat, but you stayed frozen, your pulse pounding in your ears.

“Megumi,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. His name sounded more like a plea than you intended. He didn’t answer, his towering presence swallowing the small space between you.

The sharpness in his eyes softened, just slightly, but the tension in the air remained, coiling tighter with every passing second. Whatever words you’d intended to say were gone now, lost under the weight of his presence. And for the first time, you weren’t sure if you were speaking to the boy you’d once known—or someone else entirely.

For Megumi, this was agony—pure, unrelenting torture. Watching you sat on his bed. Your wide, uncertain eyes—meeting his with such sincerity, was unraveling him bit by bit.

You looked so natural in his space, so right, like you belonged there.

But it wasn’t enough. Not like this.

His heart thundered in his chest, erratic and deafening, and it took everything he had to keep his expression impassive. He couldn’t let you see just how much he wanted—needed—you to stay.

But deep down, he didn’t know if you even saw him that way. Maybe you never had. Maybe to you, he was just a kid—someone to care for, to look after, not someone to lean on or depend on. The thought stung, even as he tried to push it down.

And the worst part? He hadn’t given you much reason to think otherwise. That was why he was leaving. That was why he needed to change.

“What do you want?” he asked again, his tone flat, though his piercing gaze swept over you, making you feel small, trapped under its weight.

“I…I told you, I just… I wanted to talk. You’re leaving tomorrow, and you’ve been avoiding me,” you said, your voice hesitant but steady, searching for his eyes.

His jaw tightened as his arms crossed over his chest, his posture tense and defensive. “I’ve been busy,” he said simply, though the lie didn't move past you.

“Busy avoiding me,” you countered softly, your words gentle but probing. You didn't want him retreating again, couldn't let him pull back. You leaned forward slightly, trying to catch his gaze, but, now, he stubbornly refused to meet your eyes.

“Why does it matter?” he muttered, sharper now, his tone dismissive, almost annoyed. “It’s not like I’m gone forever. I’ll be back next summer.” He was going on the defensive again.

“It matters because I care about you,” you said, holding your ground. “You’ve been distant, Megumi. I just want to understand what’s going on.”

He scoffed softly, shaking his head, his gaze set on you. “There’s nothing to talk about,” though the way his voice dipped, betrayed him. His fists clenched at his sides, the tension in his body visible.

“That’s not true,” you replied gently. “I know something’s wrong. I can see it. Please, just.....talk to me.”

His expression flickered then, a crack in his armor, letting something raw and vulnerable slip through. “You wouldn’t get it,” he finally says, his voice even quieter now, almost hesitant.

“Try me,”

The silence stretched, taut and suffocating, before he finally spoke. His voice was low, deliberate, and heavy with meaning.

“I’ll protect you.”

His words completely caught you off guard, and you blinked, unsure how to respond. “Megumi, what are you—?”

“I mean it,” he interrupted, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I’ll get stronger. Strong enough that you’ll never have to worry about them. About anything. I’ll keep you safe.”

There was something unyielding in his tone, a quiet desperation that left you reeling. “Megumi…” you began, unsure of how to navigate this sudden shift in conversation, but he shook his head sharply.

“You don’t understand, I’m not letting them take you away. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you here.”

Those words hung in the air. Heavy and final, leaving no room for argument.

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. You really hadn't expected...this. Toji’s teasing, his warnings—it all clicked into place, and your stomach twisted with unease. “Megumi, did someone tell you—?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he cut you off, his voice sharp. “All that matters is that you’re safe. That you stay here. With me.”

“Megumi…” you tried again, but his silence was impenetrable. The tension in the room was unbearable, and you felt your resolve faltering. He was already shutting down, retreating further into himself, and you didn’t have a damn clue how to reach him. So much for being a good mother. Then again, you thought bitterly, your role model wasn’t exactly the best to begin with.

You hesitated, torn between the urge to comfort him and the gnawing voice in the back of your mind telling you to leave quickly. “I don’t need you to protect me, Megumi,” you said softly, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay calm. “I’m here to protect you. That’s what family does.”

“Family,” he repeated the word bitterly, as if it personally offended him. He straightened, turning halfway to glance at you over his shoulder. “Is that what this is to you? Just… family?”

“Of course it is,” you replied. “That’s what we are, Megumi.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tightening as a low, humorless laugh—almost a scoff—escaped him. “That’s all I am to you, isn’t it?” he said, his voice sharp and cutting. “Just the kid you have to look after. The one you’re stuck with.”

“Megumi, that’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped, his voice sharper, meaner than you’d ever heard it directed at you. His eyes locked onto yours, unrelenting, and something stirred behind them—something dark, layered, tangled with emotions you wouldn't even begin to name. His voice came out desperate, rushed and

“You don’t get it. You don’t understand how much I—”The words broke off, his jaw clenching as if the very thought of finishing the sentence physically hurt. The silence that followed was suffocating, the unfinished confession hanging between you like a live wire, charged and volatile, threatening to ignite everything you thought you knew about him.

“How much you what?” you asked softly, your voice breaking through the thick, suffocating silence. You took a cautious step forward, your chest tight with uncertainty but unable to let the moment go unresolved.

He didn’t answer immediately, the tension in the air thickening with every passing second. Then, finally, a quiet, almost guttural confession slipped from his lips, as though being dragged out against his will.

“How much I care about you,” he said, his voice low and raw, trembling with suppressed emotion. His eyes flicked to yours, burning with an intensity that made your breath catch. “You’re all I think about. Every day. And the thought of them taking you away, of losing you…”

His voice faltered, breaking as he trailed off, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides, his whole body trembling with barely contained emotion.

Your chest tightened painfully as you struggled to find the right words. “Megumi… I care about you too,” you began cautiously, your voice soft, like treading on fragile ice. “But this—what you’re saying—it’s not…”

“Don’t.” His voice cut through yours, sharp and raw, almost desperate. His fists clenched tighter, his gaze burning into you with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. “Don’t brush this off,” he said, his tone walking the line between a demand and a plea. “Don’t tell me it’s just some… phase, or whatever excuse you’re going to use to push me away.”

Your conversation with Toji replayed in your mind like a broken record as you stepped back slightly, the weight of Megumi’s words pressing down on you like a physical force. But it wasn't enough. His intensity was suffocating, his desperate gaze pinning you in place. You couldn’t ignore the vulnerable and raw emotion in his voice, the way his words seemed to carve themselves into the air between you.

“Megumi, you’re leaving tomorrow,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “You’re starting a new chapter of your life. This—whatever this is—it’s not something we can just… talk about right now.”

“So when?” he shot back, his voice rising, trembling with an edge of anger that felt dangerously close to breaking. “When I come back? When it’s too late? Tell me—when am I supposed to say it? When am I supposed to matter enough for you to see me the way I see you?”

His words struck you like a hammer.. You opened your mouth, searching for a response, but nothing came out at first. His eyes were on you, demanding answers. Finally, you managed,

“You do matter, Megumi,” your voice breaking despite your best efforts to hold steady. You could feel the sting of tears threatening, your composure slipping with every second under his intense scrutiny. “But this… I don’t know how to—”

“Just don’t leave,” he whispered, his voice breaking, raw, needy. “I’ll get stronger. I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just… please. Don't leave.”

His vulnerability clawed at your chest, each word heavy with a weight you didn’t know how to carry. The silence that followed was unbearable. Suffocating. Guilt scrapped along you conscious.

He turned away, his shoulders slumping under the burden of what he couldn’t say—and what you couldn’t answer. You opened your mouth, wanting to comfort him, to offer anything—but the words wouldn’t come.

The moment stretched too long, aching and unresolved, before you finally stepped out, the door clicking softly behind you.

“Goodnight,” he murmured, barely audible, his voice laced with defeat.

But you were already gone.

And the next day, Megumi left for Jujutsu Tech.

p.1

p.8

AN: To be continued soon. please give a follow and reblog if you want to stay updated - or follow along on my ao3

I will also be posting updates here:

https://www.tumblr.com/communities/obsessedjjk

come home

[fafnir19]

Prince

Prince Lyrand sighed as he gazed out the window of his chambers, watching the sun set over the kingdom of Towria.

As the youngest son of King Kerwyn and Queen Elspe of Towria, a medieval fantasy kingdom, Lyrand held a unique position. Magic was strictly prohibited in Towria, and witches and sorcerers were persecuted and punished cruelly. The king feared the power that magic wielded, and this fear had shaped the kingdom's laws.

The golden light bathed the medieval fantasy landscape in a warm glow, but Lyrand's thoughts were far from peaceful. He was furious due he came from an argument with his parents. And on top he felt a twinge of self-doubt as he thought of his older brother, Woldrand, who was destined to rule this land one day. Unlike Woldrand, Lyrand had always felt like an outsider, more interested in books and knowledge than in swordfighting and political intrigue. On top he had a rebellious streak that often got him into trouble.

"There you are, Lyrand," came a deep voice from behind him. Lyrand turned to see his older brother, Crown Prince Woldrand, striding into the chamber.

“I won’t do it, Woldrand!” he exclaimed, running a hand through his unkempt blond hair. “I refuse to join the witch-guards!” Woldrand entered the room, closing the door behind him. His expression was calm but serious. “Lyrand, you need to think this through. Our parents are set on this decision. If you refuse, it will only make things worse.” “Worse?” Lyrand shot back, his blue eyes flashing. “They want to send me to hunt magic users! I fear magic!” “Think about it,” Woldrand replied, stepping closer, his voice steady. “If you join the witch-guards, you’ll show them you’re willing to fulfill your duties. It might even calm their fears about your future.” Lyrand’s expression softened, uncertainty creeping in. “But they don’t understand me. I’m not a warrior; I’m a scholar. They want a brute, not someone who thinks critically!” “Exactly,” Woldrand said, a hint of a smile on his lips. “That’s why you need to go. You can bring your intellect to the witch-guards. You can help them strategize, understand the magic they’re up against. You have the chance to change their approach.” Lyrand hesitated, his mind racing.  “Are you sure?” Lyrand asked, his voice wavering. “What if I fail?” “Then you’ll learn,” Woldrand said, placing a reassuring hand on Lyrand’s shoulder. “But if you refuse, you’ll only disappoint our parents and be sent off to the colonies, where you’ll have no chance to prove yourself at all.” Lyrand took a deep breath, weighing his options. “Show them that you can face your fears and take responsibility. You’re stronger than you know.” With a reluctant sigh, Lyrand nodded. “Alright. I’ll join the witch-guards.” Woldrand smiled, pride evident in his gaze. “That’s the spirit, Lyrand. Together, we’ll protect our kingdom from the threat of magic, and you’ll show everyone that your mind is just as powerful as any sword.”

With a heavy heart, he began his training, but his heart was never truly in it. However, his time with the witch-guards was disapointing. He struggled to keep up with the physical demands, and his lack of prowess was noticed. "You're a disappointment, Prince Lyrand," his instructor sneered. "One more failure, and you'll be sent back to the castle in shame." One afternoon, while patrolling the forest on the outskirts of the kingdom, Lyrand spotted a figure that sparked his curiosity. It was a witch, her dark robes blending with the shadows. She moved with grace and purpose, and Lyrand recognized her as someone he had encountered several times in the town, always slipping away just out of reach. Lyrand recognized his chance to prove himself. "Not this time," Lyrand muttered under his breath as he quickened his pace, determined to apprehend her. The witch led him on a winding chase through the forest, until she suddenly disappeared into a cave. Lyrand hesitated for only a moment before entering, his curiosity getting the better of him. As he stepped inside, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The cave was eerie and quiet, the only sound the soft pad of his boots on the damp ground.

Suddenly, he found himself entangled in a giant spider web, the sticky threads trapping him tightly. "What—?" Lyrand began, but his words died in his throat as a tall figure stepped out of the shadows. "What have we here?" a deep voice rumbled. Lyrand's eyes widened as he beheld Tarabas, the most powerful sorcerer in the land.

Fear gripped him as the sorcerer strode forward, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Please, let me go," Lyrand pleaded, struggling futilely against the web. "I mean you no harm." Tarabas smirked, his green eyes flashing. "Oh, but you and your kind mean harm to me and mine. It's time you learned a lesson, young prince." The sorcerer raised his hand, and Lyrand felt himself lifted into the air, still bound by the sticky web. Tarabas whisked him through the cave, which served as a hidden entrance to his tower. Lyrand's heart sank as he took in his surroundings: magical runes adorned the walls, and the air crackled with power. "Let's see what we have here," Tarabas purred, unchaining Lyrand from the web and chaining him instead by the wrists and ankles, suspending him in mid-air. Lyrand struggled, but the chains held firm.

Lyrand's eyes widened as Tarabas slowly began to undress him, layer by layer, until he was completely naked and exposed. The cool air raised goosebumps on his skin, making him even more aware of his vulnerable state. "Please... stop," he gritted out, his voice strained. "You can't do this to me!" Paying no heed to Lyrand's protests, Tarabas stepped closer, his fingers trailing lightly over the prince's nipples, circling and teasing until Lyrand's breath hitched despite his efforts to remain unaffected. "You have a beautiful body, Lyrand," the sorcerer murmured, his touch sending shivers down the captive prince's spine. "Stop it!" Lyrand tried to twist away, his face flushed with embarrassment and anger. "I am a prince of Towria! You will pay for this indignity!" Tarabas's eyes sparkled with amusement, and he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over Lyrand's ear. "Oh, but your body betrays you, doesn't it? You can't deny the pleasure you're feeling." His fingers continued their torment, teasing and caressing until Lyrand's breath quickened and a faint moan escaped his lips. "That's it... let go of your inhibitions." Lyrand's protests turned to whimpers as he felt his body responding against his will. His cock throbbed, betraying his growing arousal, and he felt his muscles tightening, becoming more defined and his frame filling out with lean strength. "Wh-what are you doing to me?" he gasped, his eyes widening in shock as he felt his body hair vanishing, his skin becoming smoother. "Merely unlocking your true potential, my dear prince," Tarabas whispered, his hands now roaming freely over Lyrand's body. "Surrender to the pleasure, and embrace your new self." His fingers traced the contours of Lyrand's now lean muscles, his touch possessive and intimate. "No... this can't be..." Lyrand moaned, his voice hoarse with desire. He felt his body arching into Tarabas's touch, his nipples hardening further as the sorcerer's fingers teased them relentlessly. "Please... I... oh!" he gasped. Tarabas stepped behind Lyrand and his hands moved to Lyrand's lips, silencing his protests, while his other hand wrapped around Lyrand's throbbing cock, "Just relax and let it happen." As Tarabas began to stroke, Lyrand's body’s transformation continued. His soft features became more chiseled and handsome. Even his manhood transformed, becoming straighter slimmer and more prominent while his balls drew up to his shaft and shrunk. Lyrand’s breath coming in short gasps. "Oh... gods..." he moaned. He was helpless to stop the changes, his protests reduced to incoherent murmurs. "That's it... let it wash over you," Tarabas whispered. Lyrand tried to resist, but his body was now responding eagerly to Tarabas's touch. Lyrand's eyes rolled back as pleasure unlike anything he'd ever known before overwhelmed him. His hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of the sorcerer's touch.

Suddenly, Tarabas stepped away, leaving Lyrand hanging in his chains, breathless and spent. "Look at yourself, Lyrand," the sorcerer said, his voice carrying a note of satisfaction. Lyrand's eyes widened as he realized the truth. He craned his neck, catching a glimpse of his transformed self in a nearby mirror. His once scrawny frame now boasted lean, powerful muscles, and his face had transformed into a vision of masculine beauty.

"No...it can't be..." Lyrand whispered, his voice a mixture of awe and dread. "What have you done to me?" Tarabas' laughter echoed through the tower as he disappeared, leaving Lyrand alone with his thoughts and his dramatically altered body. The young prince's mind raced as he realized the full extent of the sorcerer's power and his own uncertain future.

The sun had set, casting the chamber in darkness. Lyrand, still chained and vulnerable, awaited his fate. The door creaked open, and the soft glow of candlelight illuminated the room as Tarabas entered. But he was not alone. Lyrand's breath caught in his throat as he recognized his brother, Woldrand, standing beside the sorcerer. A mixture of emotions crossed his face—puzzlement, shock and hope. Woldrand's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he took in Lyrand's transformed appearance. "You've done an excellent job, Tarabas. My brother now embodies the image of a true prince."

Slowly a growing realization of the conspiracy before him dripped into Lyrand’s mind. "Woldrand, what is the meaning of this?" Lyrand demanded, his voice shaking. "Why am I here? What have you done to me?" Woldrand stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and cruelty. "Father is a fool to shun magic, Lyrand. It is a force to be reckoned with, and we must embrace it if we are to rule effectively. We cannot fight it; we must collaborate. And you, my brother, are the key to our success." Lyrand's heart sank as he realized the depth of their conspiracy and betrayal. "What are you planning, Woldrand? What do you want from me?" Tarabas, his eyes glittering with dark intent, spoke up. "Prince Woldrand, shall we proceed as discussed?" Woldrand nodded, his gaze never leaving Lyrand. "Yes, Tarabas. Do as we've planned." Lyrand struggled against his chains as Tarabas approached.

With a slow and deliberate movement, Tarabas ran his finger along the prince's bare back, tracing the path from his shoulder blade down to the curve of his buttock. Lyrand shivered, his breath quickening as he felt the sorcerer's touch inch closer to his most intimate place. "Relax, Lyrand. This will be pleasurable, I assure you." Lyrand knew he should resist, but the sensation of Tarabas' finger tracing circles on his skin was overwhelming. His finger gently probed, finding the tight ring of muscle and slowly pushing inside. Lyrand gasped, his eyes widening as he felt the intrusion. "W-what are you doing? Stop!" "Shhh," Tarabas whispered, his breath hot against Lyrand's ear. "You'll enjoy this, I promise." His finger worked its way deeper, massaging Lyrand's prostate. It was an unfamiliar sensation, and yet it sent sparks of pleasure through his body. He tried to pull away, but the chains held him fast, leaving him at the mercy of the sorcerer's touch. "Relax, Lyrand," Tarabas murmured, his breath hot against the prince's ear. "Surrender to me." His finger moved slowly at first, gently working its way inside, then with more purpose as he sensed Lyrand's growing need. Woldrand watched, his eyes gleaming. "Tarabas will keep you here, teaching you the ways of magic. When I ascend the throne, you will be by my side, a powerful sorcerer in service to the kingdom." Lyrand tried to protest, but his words turned to moans as Tarabas worked his magic. His body betrayed him, responding to the sorcerer's touch with growing need. "You see, Lyrand?" Woldrand continued. "This is your destiny. You will be my obedient sorcerer, and together, we will rule." Lyrand's struggles weakened as Tarabas' finger moved within him, sparking sensations that clouded his mind. His body relaxed, surrendering to the pleasure that built with each stroke. "That's it, Lyrand," Tarabas murmured. "Give in to the pleasure. It's useless to resist." The sorcerer worked his magic, stoking the fire in Lyrand's loins until he was begging for more. With a satisfied smirk, Tarabas unchained Lyrand, now pliant and willing, and led him to the nearby bed, its silk sheets inviting and sinister.

Gently, he laid the prince down, running his hands along Lyrand's thighs, causing them to fall open in invitation. Lyrand's eyes closed as he surrendered to the sensations. He felt Tarabas' hands on his inner thighs, gently caressing, and then the slight pressure of the sorcerer's body as he positioned himself between Lyrand's legs. There was a moment of hesitation before— "Ah!" Lyrand cried out as he felt Tarabas' hardness enter him. It was a sharp pain, quickly replaced by a fullness that was both foreign and intriguing.

He felt Tarabas' weight on top of him, the sorcerer's muscles rippling with power as he began to move. The pace was slow at first, Tarabas taking his time to savor the moment. Lyrand could feel every inch of the sorcerer's length, and despite the initial discomfort, he found himself wanting more. He gripped the sheets, his knuckles turning white as he tried to adjust to the sensation. Tarabas leaned down, his lips brushing Lyrand's ear. "Feel my strength, my prince," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Let me show you the true power of magic." Lyrand moaned as Tarabas began to move with more purpose, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder. The prince could feel the sorcerer's power in every fiber of his being, and it excited him. He reached out, grabbing hold of Tarabas' arm, feeling the corded muscles there. "Yes... more," Lyrand begged, his voice hoarse and desperate. He had never felt this way before, so completely at the mercy of another, and yet he craved it. He wanted to submit, to be dominated by this powerful man. Tarabas growled, his own desire building. He gripped Lyrand's hips, holding him in place as he thrust deeper, his breath coming in sharp pants. "You like that, my prince? You like being under my control?" "Yes!" Lyrand cried out, his head thrown back in abandon. "Don't stop! Please, I need more!"

In the corner of the room, Woldrand watched the scene unfold with his eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and cruelty.

He licked his lips, his eyes glittering with satisfaction as he saw his brother now reduced to a pleading wanton mess. *He's truly lost himself to pleasure*, Woldrand thought, a widening smirk spreading across his face. But it was the knowledge of what this meant for Lyrand's future that truly delighted him. "Please... I need it... more..." Lyrand's voice was hoarse, his words punctuated by gasps and moans. His once shy but rebellious nature had been completely transformed, and he now displayed his desire openly, his body yearning for the touch of another man. Woldrand's satisfaction grew as he witnessed his brother's degradation. *He's being made gay before my very eyes*. The thought sent a thrill through him, and he felt a twisted sense of pleasure. *A gay brother will never challenge my legacy or produce heirs to threaten my rule*.

He knew that this was a calculated move on Tarabas' part, but he welcomed it nonetheless.

Lyrand's hips bucked uncontrollably as he begged for release, his voice high and desperate. "Please... fuck me... harder..." The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed off the walls, along with Lyrand's cries and moans. "You were made for this, Lyrand," Tarabas growled. "Made to be dominated, to submit to a strong men's will." "Yes... yes, I was..." Lyrand panted, his body on fire with desire. "I'm yours... do with me as you please." His once stubborn and defiant nature had been overwritten, and he now craved the dominant touch of Tarabas, the feeling of being completely overpowered.

Woldrand's eyes narrowed as he observed the changes in his brother's behavior. *He's becoming docile, obedient*. The thought pleased him immensely. *A docile Lyrand will be the perfect companion, loyal and subservient*. He imagined Lyrand by his side, a living testament to his power and control. Tarabas, his eyes glinting with satisfaction, leaned over Lyrand, his fingers trailing down his chest. "You want this, Lyrand? You want me to take you?" Lyrand whimpered, his eyes pleading. "Yes... please... use me..." His body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release, and he would agree to anything to satisfy that craving. Woldrand's cruel smile deepened as he saw the desperation in Lyrand's eyes. *He's mine now. My gay, docile brother*. The thought excited him, and he felt a sense of power and control like never before. *With Lyrand under my thumb, I can shape the future of Towria to my liking*. As Tarabas moved to fulfill Lyrand's pleas, his thrusts powerful and relentless, Woldrand watched with growing arousal. *This is better than I imagined*. The sight of his brother, once so innocent, now completely corrupted and transformed, sent a rush of pleasure through him.

Tarabas' thrusts became frantic, and with a final, powerful cry, he climaxed, his release shooting deep into Lyrand. The prince cried out as well, his body convulsing in pleasure, his own release coating their stomachs despite never having touched himself. Panting, Tarabas slowly withdrew, his eyes never leaving Lyrand's face. He dressed, his movements casual, as if he hadn't just taken the prince's innocence and transformed him into something new.

Woldrand enjoyed the expression in his brother's face, taking in the look of pure ecstasy and devotion. *He's truly mine now*. The thought brought him immense satisfaction, and he knew that this moment would forever change their relationship. Lyrand would be his loyal companion, obedient to his every whim.

Lyrand's body was exhausted, spent from the intense experience. He lay still, his eyes closed, as he felt Tarabas move away from him. The silk sheets were cool against his sweat-dampened skin, and he could hear the soft rustle of fabric as Tarabas dressed him. Tight pants were pulled up his legs, and a feather-adorned jerkin was slipped over his transformed body. The feathers were a clear sign, a declaration to the world that he was now a sorcerer. Lyrand should have felt ashamed, but instead, he found himself aroused by the possessive act of being dressed by another man. It was a dominant display, and he couldn't deny the thrill it sent through him.

"There," Tarabas said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "Now you look the part, young sorcerer." Lyrand sat up, his new clothes hugging his transformed body.

He felt a rush of pleasure at the compliment and the realization of his newfound power. "I've shared my magic with you, Lyrand," Tarabas continued, his voice deep and commanding. "You're one of us now. I will train you to become a powerful sorcerer." Lyrand's eyes widened at the prospect, and he felt a rush of loyalty and gratitude toward Tarabas. "I... I will do my best, Master," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. Tarabas smiled, his eyes glinting with a mixture of pride and possession. He lifted Lyrand's chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. "You will be extraordinary, my pupil. I can sense the magic coursing through your veins." Tarabas felt a mix of satisfaction and revenge. He knew the king would be furious to see his son transformed, a sorcerer now, and he relished the thought.

 "How cute he is now!" Woldrand exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with cruel satisfaction. "I never thought my brother could be so adorable. The body of a warrior and the docile spirit we desired." He approached the bed, running a hand through Lyrand's sweat-dampened hair. "You've done well, Tarabas. My brother is truly transformed." Lyrand, his eyes still locked on Tarabas, whispered, "Master." Tarabas smirked, his finger trailing down Lyrand's cheek. "Yes, my obedient prince." Woldrand's smirk widened, his eyes flicking between the two. "It seems our plan has succeeded beyond our expectations. Lyrand is now a powerful sorcerer and, more importantly, loyal to us." Lyrand's cheeks flushed at his brother's words, but he found he couldn't deny the pleasure he felt at being admired and desired in this new form. "I'm glad I meet your approval, brother," he said, his voice meek and obedient. Woldrand smiled broadly, his eyes never leaving Lyrand's transformed body. "Oh, you do, little brother. You most certainly do."

The sound of the door closing snapped Lyrand back to the present, and he looked up to see Tarabas and Woldrand leaving the chamber, their faces illuminated by the flickering torchlight. As the door closed, leaving him alone, Lyrand's gaze fell on his reflection in a nearby mirror. He saw a stranger—a powerful sorcerer with a body honed for pleasure and a mind that now held secrets and magic.

A small smile curved his lips as he realized that he enjoyed his new identity, even if it was forced upon him.

[overlyspecific]

Part 6 of Merlin Hood

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

Still in the past at Merlin’s magic trial, next part will be back to the present!

The first thing Merlin notices when he wakes up is that it’s daylight. He should have waken Arthur up hours ago, but somethings not right. Merlin knows he didnt need to wake Arthur up today for some reason, but what was the reason?

Uther: Merlin of Ealdor, you stand accused of using magic and treason to the crown. What do you have to say for yourself?

Oh, that’s right, its because Merlin is to be put to death today.

Uther: Well, do you have anything to say?

Merlin: *mumbles under his breath*

Uther: *angry* What was that?

Merlin: I said, ‘What makes me any different?’

Uther: 😡 What?

Merlin: Its just that you’ve murdered thousands of sorcerers and magical beings and never listened to them. What makes me any different?

Arthur: Merlin!

Merlin: No, Arthur, I’m already going to die, no thanks to you. I’d like to finally get the answers to questions I’ve been silent about my whole life.

Arthur looks at Merlin with a look on his face between apologetic and confused. Merlin has always found that look adorable, but under the current circumstances he has to look away. Arthur cant save him now.

Uther: You said you have your questions. I am willing to hear your last remarks. Ask away but do not expect any answers.

Merlin: Great! First question, when you decided to keep the last great dragon under the castle, did you do that just so he could torture me with half truths and vague prophecies or did he decide to do that on his own?

Uther: The great dragon?

Merlin: From the look on your face, I’m going to take that as a no and that you maybe didnt even know he could talk. Next question: the law says its illegal to ‘study and practice magic’ if I didnt study it, but just practiced it, would it still be a death sentence or could I be let off with a time served kind of deal?

Gauis: Merlin!

Merlin: What! I’m gonna die anyway, might as well see if there is any leniency.

Uther: So, you admit to practicing magic, then? Guards, take the prisoner to the pyre! I dont want to hear another word.

Merlin: *smiling a little too wide to be friendly* …And here I thought you actually wanted to hear me out. *Merlin shakes his head* Oh, Uther, you see, I don’t just practice magic. I am magic.

As the guards approach Merlin from all sides, he snaps his fingers and disappears.

Uther: Find him!

Merlin: *appears right behind Arthur* Arthur.

Arthur: *spins around too quickly in fright and tumbles into Merlin, who catches him* Ahh!

Merlin: *smiling while trying to keep Arthur upright* I don’t have much time.

Uther: There! *points at Merlin* Get away from my son!

Merlin: *takes off his neckerchief* If you ever need me for any reason, *starts to hand the neckerchief to Arthur, but Arthur doesn’t take it* seriously, Arthur, I’m trying to have a heartfelt moment here, you utter prat.

Arthur: *starts to smile at the insult, but quickly hides it with his blank princely expression* Merlin, you have to leave.

Merlin: That’s what I’m trying to do! *hastily ties the neckerchief around Arthurs wrist* If you need me, leave that in the darkling woods and I’ll be there as soon as I can.

Merlin jumps onto the throne that Uther vacated when Merlin vanished.

Merlin: People of Camelot! I will not die at the hands of King Uther in his unjust war on magic. I am Emrys, the most powerful warlock to ever walk the Earth. The Once and Future king is the only one I serve. I will be back when he reigns. Until then, however… *Merlin looks directly at Uther* …I’m going to make your life a very difficult. *turns to Gwen and Morgana* If anyone needs me I’m only a call away. *Merlin snaps his fingers and disappears again*

In Merlin’s absence, flowers fill the room and nobody says a word just staring at the flowers around them completely covering the floor.

Morgana: *picks up a flower and puts it in Gwen’s hair* Beautiful.

Gwen: *smiles, before creasing her eyes in worry* Do you think he’ll be alright?

Morgana: *looking over at Arthur who is staring solemnly at the neckerchief tied around his wrist* I’ll think he’ll be just fine.

[muse-write]

Another random scene I came up for my original WIP with no context:

Gelya peered at her insightfully, even through the haze of wine. “Why are you so fixed on this? Why is this such a mystery you have to solve?”

Vyetta didn’t meet her eyes, instead staring down into her empty glass. “It shouldn’t mean as much to me as it does,” she began, tongue feeling a bit thick. “I’m too emotionally attached to it. It disrupts my judgment.”

“I’d say so,” murmured Gelya, pointedly glancing around them at the broken glass. “I don’t associate you with extravagant acts of emotion, Vyetta.”

“You have to know the end of the story before you can begin. My life and his are intertwined. If I don’t solve this…if I don’t learn what happened to him…if I don’t find some amount of hope, of…of resolution in this narrative I’m crafting…what hope is there for me?”

Gelya’s eyes flashed. “Hope for what?”

“For anything, for…for glory and success.”

“No. Glory and success aren’t what you want, not anymore. Not really. What else is it?”

Vyetta’s grip tightened on her glass. “I want…knowledge.”

Gelya leaned forward. “That’s not it, either. I know you, Vyetta. You’re an academic, of course you want knowledge. This is more than that.”

“If he…” Vyetta squeezed her eyes closed. “If he never found anywhere to belong, if he disappeared forever from the world, how could I ever belong? Where would I belong?”

[metranart]

My one and only wants you, so he’ll have you (Part 2)

ft. Sensei! Gojo Satoru, sensei! Suguru Geto, reader insert.

Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto happily married, you, their lovely student and the cause of their ragging temptation. The problem: their son, Megumi, your best friend.

- 𖦹 Warning tags: Gojo x Reader x Geto, threesome, married couple, Suguru and Gojo happy married couple, polyamory, Teacher-Student Relationship, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, oral sex, vaginal sex, breeding, obsessive behavior, horny sorcerers, idiots in love, being the willing pet of your senseis, best friend! Megumi, Jealous! Megumi, anal plug, Secret Relationship, Domestic Fluff, falling in love, Pregnancy Kink, Hurt/Comfort, smut, rough sex, shameless smut, creampie, explicit sexual consent, sexual tension, shameless flirting, scratching.

-

Most of the time it was just you and Satoru Gojo, as he was still the same self-centered egoist who accidentally forgot to call Suguru, ups! 

On several, many occasions, he was vigorously scolded by his accomplice and husband for his lack of empathy. 

"Send me a text, an email, a damn carrier pigeon...make me stupid smoke signals, you selfish idiot." Suguru Geto complained in chilling calm, "...you're terrible at sharing." 

Satoru Gojo just smiled apologetically and did it again.

Dragging you to the building's gym so he could fuck you in the basketball storage room, or taking you to the bathrooms between classes and eating your pussy but not allowing you to come, keeping you on that thin edge between overwhelming and unbearable until you were shaking like a leaf against the wind, the low, hoarse noise of your poorly concealed gasps in the cubicle indescribably sweet.

“G-Gojo-san…someone might come in-”

“Gojo-sensei.” He was prone to correct, almost eager to do it.

It was fun, watching you fight the frustration and desperation of wanting to come, clinging to the orgasm with nails and fists and teeth, and sometimes, if Satoru was feeling in an especially naughty mood, he would wait until the bathroom was completely empty to lean you over the sink, locking the door and fucking you in front of the mirror, the thick tears rolling down the sides of your burning face, a thousand times more charming under the fluorescent lamp than in the battered dim-darkness of the cubicle.

“(Y/N), I’m so happy that you chose to be mine.” He beamed too gone into his own pleasure to measure his brain correctly.

“… Yours and Suguru’s?” your feeble voice asked with a hint of curious cynicism, and he hurried to comply.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant, pretty.” 

The smug grin on his face and the mischief glittering in his eyes made haste to a confident swagger on his hips while ramming his fat cock deeper inside you, making sure to kiss your cervix with each pump. Oh! how low Satoru could go sometimes; how desperate he was to pump you full of his own pups. He would certainly love and spoil any child of your being his or Suguru’s… but deep, very deeply hidden inside he wanted it to be HIS. At least the first one, and maybe the next one… and perhaps, the third one…. 

“Stop g-grinning like-e a maniac, Gojo-san.” You shared between ragged breaths, too little air in your lungs to waste it.

“Gojo-sensei.” He merely replied with the same maniac grin.

That was the usual, the regular thing since he had easier access to you. Nevertheless, Suguru Geto managed to show up without warning, watching him fuck you mercilessly until your ass was probably sore and Satoru's dick was bare. Still, he made an effort to be part of the activity. 

“Such a lovely sight you two make.” He teased all too pleased, his previous annoyance disappearing at the way his heart throbbed like a drum at the mere sight of your sweaty face and flushed cheeks.  

Sometimes he would come up to Satoru and hug him from behind, dropping his hands casually on his hips and guiding the movement with which he fucked you, deeper thrusts, bolder movements, precise and raw to make you scream your lungs out, rubbing his own erection against his husband's ass—

“Do you want me to put it in you, my love?" Suguru asked and Satoru's affirmative words melted with his moans. "My sweet boy wants me to stuff him with this fat cock?" the pulsing, warm meat glued to his naked asscheeks, teasing and prodding his tight ring with insistent pokes.

The white-haired professor convulsed with every vulgar tease of his beloved husband, the black-haired sorcerer knowing exactly what buttons to press to make him come indiscriminately fast... so he could have you to himself.

“Baby, I don´t want to come yet.” But they knew each other too well and Suguru’s tricks were easily discovered by his lover. "Sugu let me have her a little more...pleeeease, pretty, please."

The head of his husband’s cock nestled subtly inside his tight ring of flesh, which throbbed with studied excitement to the prospect of wrap around him. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Toru, I just want you to come hard and yummy inside our puppy," each word was tattooed on the sweaty skin of the prodigy while his husband kissed his neck. "Come on Satoru, I know you are eager to be the contact for my, fat and throbbing, plug-" 

Suguru snickered when felt him shudder under him, for some reason, Satoru really enjoyed that kind of suggestive metaphors.

“Don’t-” Satoru growled lowly.

His narrow hips colliding with your bare, bruised ass cheeks all while he refrained himself from burst his heavy load. 

"Baby." He sounded like a wounded animal, even so, the thrusts he delivered to your poor, defenseless cunt were without an inch of restraint or mercy, almost forcing the thick, vulgar cock between his thick thighs automatically inside you. There was no falter in his pumping motion, as if were way too natural for him to be nested inside you.

"Sensei!" you mewled brokenly aiming to aid him burst, fingers white from grabbing so hard to the bathroom sink, "...I’m almost praying for someone t-to happen u-upon us to finally take m-me away from you," you grunted severe and could see their perplexed expressions in the mirror before a smirk grazed your mouth making them realize you were teasing, "-you, feral mass of hormones masqueraded as the strongest sorcerers." You ended up sharing with a cute giggle, “how is it even possible for you to be even hornier than Megumi or Yuuji-"

“Oh, pup if you knew how many times a day, our dear Megumi beats his meat, you wouldn’t say that.” 

You made a pitiful sound, shaking your head. “Megumi d-doesn’t do that, he’s such a g-good boy.”

At this, both teachers burst out laughing because of how little you knew the real Megumi, no doubt their boy had tried hard to hide his true intentions from everyone, but it was transparent to them who had raised him since he was a puppy. Megumi had a wild and voracious side, which he would undoubtedly love to share with you. And right there lay their biggest concern.

"If you only knew, pretty,” Satoru chuckled breathlessly, rutting into your honeyed softness with frenzied exhilaration, he was getting close.

"That's your cumming face, Toru." Suguru scoffed, his smile showing all his teeth, one stab would be enough to break him. His girthy cock trespassed Satoru's tight ring in one blow and the prodigy screeched scream was muffled against your sweaty neck as he came, vast and plenty.

"Take it all in, my sweet girl. Let me live inside you." Gojo kept repeating like a mantra as he splashed your insides in ribbons of his musky essence. Sharp fingers keeping you effectively anchored to his groin as he emptied his balls.

"Fuck," Suguru laughed merrily in response to his husband's pathetic expression as he continued to sloppily gush away into your resistless, utterly conquered pussy. "That's my good boy, my husband really knows how to-"

"(Y/N)! are you in there?" You heard Nobara call, and everyone stilled. "Are you okay, it's been more than thirty minutes."

Quick as lighting Satoru slipped out of you, his precious cum slipping freely down your thighs as he hurried to pull your panties up. Poor Suguru, blue balled into frustration also help you look presentable, ignoring his throbbing erection and how uncomfortable it felt inside his own suffocating pants.

“She looks presentable-” Satoru stated questionably.

“Presentable enough, can you walk on your own, baby?” The raven-haired asked conversationally as he had you wrapped in his arms, too worried by your trembling legs which refused to carry your weight completely. “Toru, you idiot, you need to be gentler with her-”

“I’m fine, Suguru-san,” You defended, “it’s just a minute of weakness before I’m back to normal.” You said all smiles and Bambi legs. 

“So eager to defend me, I adore you so much, my pretty pup-” Satoru almost jumped you, disturbingly stretched grin and unfaltering baby-blue gaze betraying his jovial tone and innocently cocked head. “Makes me wanna dismiss Suguru and rammed you against the wa-”

“Knock it off, Toru.” Suguru pushed him back irritated, “do you feel better?” 

You nodded your head, and a sweet, syrupy kiss landed on your flushed cheek. “Soon.” Was all he said before almost drag Satoru out through the window to avoid been seen.

That same day, the unsatiated couple ended up fucking like crazy when they got home, teeth and fingers and lips covering every bit of skin they could find, bruises the color of Satoru's eyes blooming over the ridge of his pelvis the next day after Suguru pushed him face first into the floor, fucking him so hard that the neighbors would surely have noticed by now.

But those times always felt like something was missing, like your mere absence made their balls produce less cum and their cocks stay erect for less time. It was a meager relief that forced them to look for you almost immediately since you have already kidnapped their every thought.

Their eyes lit up like streetlights when your beautiful voice echoed through their home, and soon their joy turned to confusion when realized why you were there.

"Hello, I'm home." They heard their adopted son shout from the floor below, both clean up as best they could, pulling a t-shirt over their heads and adjusting their pants so they could go down. "I brought (Y/N) for dinner, I hope you don't mind."

Megumi continued saying to his parents, or as he tagged them, guardians. A little taken aback by their unusually, stunned faces.

"...Is there a problem?" Megumi asked them, airily. The young sorcerer almost looked radiant, besides his usual stoic expression. Yes! There was a fuckin’ problem, even so, they numbly shook their heads until Suguru found his voice again.

"N-No problem, Megumi. You're always welcome, (Y/N)."

You looked just as bewildered as them if not more. The only one unaware of the tense discomfort, Megumi, who actually looked quite satisfied. Both professors just couldn't stop following you with their astonished gazes while their set the table and prepare dinner, growing something beyond confused and why not, jealous… since what was driving them internally crazy was the infuriating fact that from the moment you set foot inside the house and until that moment: Megumi and you were holding hands.

COMING SOON PART 3....

⭕️ In my PATREON you will find scenes from this chapter and NSFW art of the story and lots of content from JJK, exclusive smut fanfiction and animation like THIS ONE . Plus! voting poll privilege for the exclusive Patreon one-shot stories where you can choose the anime, couple pairing and kinky mood for the story, and of course, my eternal and immense gratitude for your support!!!

[solar-wing]

⚣ Idiots In Love 🤦‍♂️

⚣🤦‍♂️ A/N → This is a request that I got from my previous account. It's not a re-post though. This is freshly written and done. Here you are @alexanderstarhero! I hope you like it! Not one of my best, but I did get a similar request to this one, and I wanted to get it out. Warnings: Omegaverse | Oblivious Friends to Lovers | Jealousy | Canon-Typical Violence | Kissing and marking | etc.

⚣🤦‍♂️ Summary → Nothing is more frustrating than watching two people who are clearly in love with each other be completely oblivious and ignorant of each other's feelings. It's so obvious, like come on, how could they not see it? Wait, did Conner just protectively wrap his arm around Y/N when Wally got too close? And they're supposed to be "friends?" I can't take this anymore. I'm DONE! I'M OVER IT!

⚣🤦‍♂️ Words → 5.0k

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

Also, vote in my Omegaverse/Yandere poll here!

⚣ ENJOY 🤦‍♂️

It was so sweet, yet also so painful to watch. How could you two be that affectionate and cute with each other, and still have no clue of the feelings you both held? It had to be a screw loose in the brain or something because this was just getting ridiculous.

Shortly after Zatara became the new Dr. Fate, Zatanna, his daughter, reached out to his son and her adoptive brother, Y/N Zatara to come join her at Mount Justice and join the Team. He was more than thrilled at the offer and immediately packed up his things from his boarding school and joined his sister in Happy Harbor.

Y/N had always wanted to join the Justice League’s newest stealth and covert team when it was first formed, but Zatara would not allow it. He didn’t want either of his children to join the Team for various reasons. Specifically, he didn’t want to create any chance or risk of losing Zatanna, his only connection to his deceased wife, Sindella.

For Y/N, he knew the life of a superhero and its sometimes cruel and unfair conditions. The magician knew the already hard life the young omega was given early on and didn’t want to add to it.

When Y/N was very young, he’d become an orphan, his parents disappearing under mysterious circumstances. So, he was placed in foster care and moved between many different foster homes. As the story typically goes, he felt out of place and never really accepted in any of the homes his CPS agent would place him in.

Not just for his magical abilities, but sometimes also for his daily obvious submissive nature. Even if he hadn’t presented yet, Y/N always showed early traits of an Omega dynamic. And, just as many places in the world that had yet to move forward in modern times, there was an inherent bias in the foster care system that favored Alpha or Beta children over Omegas.

It wasn’t until his 5th or 6th foster home that he ran away, and happened to come across a battle between Zatara and Wotan. The magician’s curiosity had been piqued when this random child helped him in taking down the sorcerer. After hearing a bit of the young child’s story, he decided to take him under his wing and adopt him as his son.

Many jokes were made by different leaguers about how he needed to be careful or he’d turn into Batman 2.0.

The Dark Knight did not find the joke amusing.

When Zatara had brought Zatanna to the Team’s new base shortly after their creation as a stealth unit for the Justice League, Y/N wanted to join along, but Zatara insisted he stay at his school and focus on his studies. That’s why he was absent for the first adventures his sister got to join in.

Things changed though when Zatanna decided to use the Helmet of Fate in the battle against Klarion after he split the world into two dimensions with one only full of adults and the other only full of children. As fate would have it (pun unintended), Nabu, the spirit possessing the helmet refused to give up her body as he felt it necessary he establish himself permanently on Earth to prevent the world from falling into chaos.

A deal was made between Zatara and Nabu that he would trade places with his daughter, becoming the new Dr. Fate.

After that, Zatanna’s life was moved from New York to Mount Justice where she lived alongside Miss Martian and Superboy. M’Gann did her best to help her new comrade and roommate feel welcomed, excited at having another girl living at Mount Justice and being able to do all sorts of Earth girly stuff as she saw on TV, but it wasn’t enough.

Zatanna craved familiarity. She missed her home and her dad, and though nothing would ever be able to replace those feelings, she figured having her brother around would help her feel less alone after just a few months of living at the Cave

Yes, was it a bit selfish? Kind of, but, in her defense, Y/N had already wanted to join the Team the second he found out about it. It was their dad who wouldn’t let him, so of course, when he got the call from his sister, he wanted to immediately pack up his things and move himself to Happy Harbor.

But, of course, adults had to intervene. Their leaders suggested Y/N wait till he finished the semester at his current school and then transfer over in the new year after winter break was over. Not what they initially wanted, but knowing they would eventually be together in a few months was enough to hold them over.

After the entire mess with Vandal Savage and his scheme of taking the Justice League was over, Batman and Black Canary began the official process of transferring Y/N over to Happy Harbor. They handled all of the paperwork and administrative details on Zatara’s behalf, and soon, both the Zatara siblings became full-time members of the Team.

The day Y/N arrived was one to be remembered. His future teammates couldn’t think of a time they had seen Zatanna so anxious and excited. When the Zeta Tube machines began whirring up and the automated voice announced his arrival, she almost left skid marks on the floor from how fast she sprinted to the opening.

The very first moment Y/N came through, she immediately ran forward and tackled him into a hug with him returning the gesture as well, happy to see his sister. The other team members watched in silent awe, some a bit emotional than others (*cough* Wally *cough*).

After their tearful reunion, Zatanna introduced her brother to the rest of the team. Everything went smoothly until she got to Superboy, who Y/N immediately became nervous and flushed around the second he laid eyes on the Kryptonian.

Zatanna and Y/N always kept in contact through phone calls, emails, and letters while he was away, and that didn’t change when she met the Young Justice team. 

In her messages, she described the Team and its different members, the missions they went on, and all the different stuff about the Cave. She also went into very specific details about one particular member of the group, even going as far as to send pictures sometimes whenever the group took photos together.

Knowing her sweet, Omega brother, and his overly romantic way of thinking, she knew if he and Superboy had ever met, he’d more than likely fall head over heels. Zatanna herself was a Beta, so she wasn’t easily swooned by the sight and smell of Alphas and Omegas like her brother or other certain members of the team (*cough* Wally *cough*).

However, she didn’t expect the surprising (at least to her) relationship between Conner and M’Gann. That truthfully was the plot twist of the season. She was no relationship expert, but if you asked her, those two just didn’t make sense.

There was no chemistry, no connection or spark that even the strongest telescope could see between them. The most you could see was physical attraction if even that. So when it came down to their eventual split a few months later, Zatanta, out of everybody else on the team, was not even the slightest bit surprised.

M’Gann swore they were just on a small break and would be back together in no time, but the sorceress was almost positive it wasn’t happening. Conner showed no interest in wanting to get back with her, which was the entire reason she even started poking at the idea of him and Y/N together in the first place.

They would look so good together, and oh god, could you imagine their children? Cutest kids ever. She wasn’t biased at all, but seriously? Take one look at Y/N, then look at Conner who’s basically the standard of the attractive himbo– ahem, male. 

She could even remember her and her dad doing all the thinking of the world of who Y/N’s parents could be.

You didn’t get looks like those by wishing for it or casting a spell…

Hold up?

…

Nah.

Yet, the only issue getting in the way was their inability to confess their obvious feelings for each other. It was like that feeling you get when watching a Dora episode and the twitch but replacing it with a b kept asking for something that was literally RIGHT THERE.

Like, girl, ARE YOU BLIND?!

That had to be the case, considering both reactions from Y/N and Conner when they were introduced.

As mentioned before, Y/N became flustered and nervous, almost stuttering over his words when he went to shake hands with Superboy. He’d been smooth and charismatic with everyone else on the team, but, as Zatanna predicted, the Omega immediately grew a crush on the young superhero. And it definitely wasn’t one-sided.

You know in those cheesy romance novels and movies (Disney we’re looking at you), when the two lovebirds or soulmates first make contact, and there’s that ‘spark’ between them. Like long-lost lovers or some shit like that?

Let’s just say, this was a bit more, extra if you will.

Conner had only been out of his pod for a few months, and what he had yet to discover was that the human part of his DNA meant his genes were also subjected to Alpha/Beta/Omega biology, unlike M’Gann and her Uncle or even Clark. Not much study had been done yet on Kryptonian biology and if they were affected by a similar biological dynamic system like most homo-sapiens were. 

Martians were never known to have such a thing in their biology according to Martian Manhunter.

Therefore, it never occurred to anyone the possibility that Conner could very well end up presenting a dynamic at some point if he hadn’t already. When he met Y/N and shook hands with him, you could say his reaction was surprising, bordering on terrifying or hot. Your choice.

The Kryptonian’s nose had flared and he ended up yanking Y/N into his arms, aggressively sniffing at his neck. He also uttered the word ‘Mine’ while glaring and growling at anyone who dared take a step too close.

Hmm, does anyone else have the weirdest sense of Déjà Vu? Weird.

It became clear to everyone right there Conner’s biological dynamic; Alpha. And, considering meeting Y/N was his first time meeting an Omega ever, he reacted quite better than many before they’d seen, which was a bit shocking when you think about it.

The man literally came out of his pod swinging and punching, not to mention his less-than-tactical way of dealing with confrontational situations. Everyone chalked it up to his Kryptonian DNA and his isolation from society for his aggressive ways.

Nope, it was just regular Alpha-like temper tantrums. Typical.

Plus, most of the guys were either Alphas, except for Dick who had yet to present. Artemis and Zatanna were both betas, making Y/N the first and only Omega on the team.

The others managed to separate the two, and when Conner got himself back under control, he apologized embarrassingly before excusing himself. Everyone had brushed it off and wouldn’t hang it over his head, knowing from experience how bad those situations can get when you experience your first ‘hormonal instinct takeover’, or H.I.T. as most would call it.

Whoever thought of that must have considered themselves quite clever. Getting hit with H.I.T.? So corny.

That interaction all but confirmed Zatanna’s predictions that Conner and Y/N would end up together. Though, he didn’t score high in M’Gann’s favor at all.

She wasn’t pleased with that interaction at all and wanted to avoid the possibility of having any repeat mistakes in the future. Things would not go her way. In truth, they would go the opposite.

After they showed him the Cave, they let him get set up in his room which was conveniently right next to Conner’s room. Something else the Martian girl was 100% not happy about.

She tried to point out the fact that maybe if Conner was getting used to his new Alpha dynamic, having an Omega room right next to him wouldn’t be the best idea since it could be a trigger for the Kryptonian. It almost worked too, but once again, things did not go her way.

Surprisingly (not for Zatanna), it was Conner who shot down the idea, saying that he could control himself and didn’t think it necessary for Y/N to move rooms. Besides, the Omega had already started unpacking and getting comfortable, and he didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Which was half the truth…

Little did he or anyone else realize, Conner was already falling in sync with his natural Alpha instincts. And the most urgent of those at the moment was keeping the Omega he desired in a close enough place where he could protect and watch over him.

The thought of having Y/N in a room farther away where he couldn’t immediately get to him if something were to happen left a very sour feeling in the Alpha’s stomach. Thankfully, Batman and Black Canary agreed to let him keep the room. But, Conner would be working with the Dark Knight on controlling and understanding his new biological nature since that was something the G-Gnomes couldn’t telepathically teach him.

M’Gann was not happy.

Zatanna was ecstatic.

Y/N was nervous but also giddy. The Kryptonian was not alone in his feelings or instincts taking over as the second anyone suggested a room change, the Omega was prepared to fight (metaphorically speaking) to stay exactly where he was.

He wasn’t blind at all. Y/N caught on to M’Gann’s motives the second she opened her mouth, and he wasn’t going to let her win if he had anything to say about it. The more time Conner and Y/N spent around each other, the more protective and jealous each other became when it came to anyone else coming around them. Specifically, anyone they saw as a threat.

For Y/N, that was obviously M’Gann.

As time passed by and he got more acclimated into the team, he was not oblivious to the many attempts M’Gann would make to flirt and get back with Conner, even going as far as one day just blatantly asking him if he ever thought about her.

The Kryptonian was kind enough not to embarrass her in front of everyone and pulled her out of the room to explain his platonic feelings for her. Y/N heard everything though, thanks to a spying spell he secretly cast.

And Y/N is not shy about staking his claim on the Alpha, even though they’re only friends. He finds subtle ways to leave his scent on Conner, whether that’s giving him subtle touches where he knows his scent glands are, asking to wear his jacket when he pretends to get cold, or finding an excuse to hug or touch the boy.

Also, if the Alpha ever needs anything, Y/N is the first to grab and provide what it may be. Not only did it please his nature to know he was taking care of an Alpha, but it also satisfied his territorial side whenever M’Gann saw or heard Conner praising him for his assistance.

His biggest success though may have been after an incident where M’Gann tried to read his mind only to have her thoughts scattered by his defensive spell. Y/N was never a big fan of the telepathic link of communication they used on missions, giving M’Gann unlimited access to all of their thoughts.

He placed a protective spell over his and Zatanna’s minds with her permission that would only allow M’Gann access to communicating thoughts and nothing else. If she went searching for more, the spell would activate and deflect her signal right back to her mind, scrambling her head. Imagine a brain freeze or your worst headache, and then put it on steroids. Served her well.

He discreetly put one on Conner as well, but knew he would take it off eventually as he didn’t want to overstep boundaries.

Of course, this caught the attention of others when the Martian girl was more or less screaming in pain for a solid minute. The effect didn’t last long, so she wasn’t being tortured for an extended period, only long enough to teach her a lesson. 

When Aqualad asked what happened, Y/N simply explained his discomfort with having an open link into each of their minds and his protective measures in case someone decided to get a little nosy. M’Gann’s little reaction proved his concerns were justified.

The mage suggested that he could use the same spell which would allow them to communicate telepathically still, but just that. No reading one’s thoughts and mind.

Everyone readily agreed to this, of course, the only one protesting it was M’Gann, but considering she was outnumbered, she had no choice but to go along. Aqualad also requested he place that defensive spell on each one of their minds, just in case any of them were to have run-ins with a mind-reading villain like that time in Bialya.

When it came time for him to put the spell on Conner, Y/N decided to come clean and admitted he already placed a spell on him. He claimed it was because he heard how the G-Gnomes used to control him telepathically and figured he wanted to erase any chance of that, which was true, but not the only reason. 

Thankfully, the Kryptonian didn’t question him, finding comfort and admiration in the fact that he would go out of his way for him like that. His Alpha side was very happy.

Zatanna, of course, knew better and was very happy watching this entire thing unfold.

Now, on Superboy’s end, his threat was basically anyone who was not either a female, another Omega, or himself. Meaning he sees not just his enemies as a threat to claim over Y/N, but even some of his allies as well.

If he and Y/N were in the same room together and Kal, Wally, or Dick entered, Conner immediately would be on edge. He’d watch their every move like a hawk, especially if they came too close toward the mage for his liking. 

If any of them were to be talking to the Omega, they’d turn to find a very aggravated and tense Kryptonian glaring at them with a very clear message. One wrong move and their mentors would be looking for new mentees.

It was something he had to work hard on in his training with Batman and now Superman as well, taming his jealous and possessive instincts. He learned that while Kryptonians don’t share the same biological dynamics as humans do, they do still have stronger instincts and urges, which can amplify his already strong Alpha nature.

It proved easier said than done.

It was so easy for him to let his protective nature take over, even when Y/N was perfectly safe or in total control of a situation.

Many times on missions, Conner would all but demand that Y/N be paired with him if they were to split up. Even if it sometimes made sense for the mage to be paired off with a different person, he’d barely budge. With Artemis or Zatanna, he was lenient. M’Gann was just an automatic no. And any of the other guys, it’d be easier to ask Batman to not brood for one day.

That wasn’t even the worst part, though. Many times on missions or in battles, the Kryptonian would demand Y/N stay back and let him handle the fight, even if the mage was winning.

At one point, Wotan sought revenge against Zatara, Dr. Fate, and the Omega who defeated him so many years ago and had once again combined forces with Klarion to put many heroes in the Justice League under a spell. Similar to when that mind control thing happened with Vandal Savage, but this time, they were instructed to just destroy those three.

Of course, as Fate would have it (no pun intended), Superboy and Y/N ended up facing off against Superman. Now, given the last time the two Kryptonians faced off, you’d think Conner would have taken the back-pedal, considering they both shared a similar weakness to magic.

Nope.

Conner insisted that Y/N stay behind him and that he would take care of Superman himself. He held out for as long as he could, but, at some point, the mage just couldn’t continue to sit by and watch.

They won the battle, and Zatanna and Y/N were able to break the spell over the heroes, but Conner was not happy with the Omega at all. However, he couldn’t figure out if he was more upset about the fact he disobeyed him or that he put his life in danger for him. 

And, truthfully, he had to wonder if he was only upset and not also appreciative and grateful for the knowledge of knowing that if he truly was ever in trouble, he could count on Y/N to be there to help him when he couldn’t help himself.

Again, Zatanna was fully enjoying herself watching this play out.

Yet, the longer it went on, the more she and the others got tired of waiting. Even M’Gann was getting restless wondering when those two were going to man up and admit their feelings.

In the beginning, Y/N and Conner were both very awkward around each other, considering how they first met. The Kryptonian felt as if he didn’t know how to approach the Omega without humiliating himself again. And, the mage felt like he didn’t know how to talk to the Alpha without getting flustered and nervous and saying something embarrassing.

Truly, two peas in a pod.

But, their mutual affection and painfully obvious feelings for each other would bring them closer over time, and they soon became almost virtually inseparable. There weren’t many instances where anyone could say they saw one without the other. Especially Conner who always made it a point to be in the same vicinity as Y/N.

Zatanna and the others eventually got tired of waiting and cooked up a plan to get the two together so they could finally end this drawn-out torture. Since they were both so oblivious, they decided the best way to get them to admit their feelings was for lack of a better phrase, ‘forcing them in a corner.’

Some legitimate concerns did come up considering their plan consisted of Wally flirting with Y/N to irritate and make Conner jealous. The main one came from the speedster himself in how they would keep the Kryptonian from trying to essentially murder him.

Don’t get him wrong; Wally was no coward. But, he knew when he was outmatched in a fight, and considering how territorial and aggressive Alphas could get when they felt challenged since he was one himself, the possibilities were all too real in his mind.

Zatanna, Dick, and the others promised they wouldn’t let that happen, but it didn’t do much to alleviate the concerns in his mind. But, in a surprising twist of events, it turned out Conner wasn’t the one they had to worry about.

They put their plan into action early in the mornings, with Wally giving subtle one-liners and suggestive looks in Y/N’s direction. As predicted, Conner immediately became disgruntled, growing irritated and frustrated with every flirty line and look out of the speedster’s mouth toward his Omega (at least in his mind).

Y/N was surprised by this as well and did his best to ignore Wally’s advances, but not good enough in a certain Martain’s eye. 

M’Gann was not in on Zatanna’s plans for obvious reasons, and when she saw Wally’s attempts at flirting with the Omega took that as her golden opportunity to win Conner back. She found the Alpha in the training room by himself, a rare occurrence where Y/N was nowhere in sight.

He was busy sparring with the reinforced punching bag Batman created for him, doing his best to control and tame his anger like Superman and Batman taught him. But, his super hearing wouldn’t allow much of that since he could still hear every flirty line out of Wally’s mouth which just increased the intensity of his punches.

M’Gann took advantage of his angry state, trying to paint a false, negative image of Y/N that if he really cared about the Kryptonian, he wouldn’t entertain any of Wally’s behavior at all. She was laying hands on his hard, shirtless body doing her best to give her most alluring eyes while looking at his sweaty and angered face.

Conner was so in his head with his anger and frustration that he barely reacted or moved when M’Gann pushed herself closer, looking as if she was going in for a kiss. Of course, as fate would have it, that was the moment Y/N chose to walk in on them with Wally and the others in tow.

It was almost as if time had paused and then skipped a few seconds because before anyone could react, Y/N had cast a spell that blasted M’Gann to the other side of the room. No one had seen the Omega that angry before (besides Zatanna) didn’t know how to react when he stomped toward the Martian who was just getting herself off the floor.

When it looked like no one was going to do anything, Zatanna was about to step in until Conner intervened, grabbing Y/N, and holding him against his body while instructing the others to check on the Martian to make sure she was okay. He dragged the furious Omega out of the room, Zatanna subtly smirking as she watched before going to help M’Gann.

Conner marched them both toward his bedroom, shutting the door forcibly behind him before pushing Y/N against the surface, smashing his lips against him to silence the Omega’s angry shouts. Shocked, surprised, bewildered, all words you could use to describe Y/N's reaction to the sudden kiss, but resistant? Not in this universe or the next however many.

He immediately gave in to the Kryptonian’s demanding and rough lips, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his hands squeezing and pulling his waist against his. They became a tangled mess of limbs as Conner moved them from the door over to his bed, carefully laying the Omega’s body onto the mattress while positioning himself on top.

Eventually, they broke their lips apart, but the Alpha wasn’t done yet. He greedily ran his lips up and down the Omega’s jaw and neck, giving into his possessive nature and leaving as many bites and hickeys as the eye could see. 

At that point, Y/N was begging for the Kryptonian to knot and mark him, seeing as how Conner wasn’t shy this time about letting the smaller male know who’s Omega he was. His Alpha nature and instincts were very satisfied seeing the mage so desperate and needy for him, wishing suddenly he could take a picture to capture this moment.

And while tempted to give in to the Omega’s cries and pleas, he opted to resist, wanting to save that moment for a more special occasion.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Y/N pouted.

Conner grew a smug look at the bratty Omega before running his nose down his neck toward his scent gland. “That’s fine. Besides, why should I reward you after letting another Alpha flirt with you all day?” Conner asked, a crossed expression passing over his face.

“I wasn’t letting him flirt with me. I was trying to get him to stop and avoid him all day since I knew it would make you upset.” Y/N said in reply.

“How did you know I would be upset?”

“Dude, anytime one of the guys even breathed at me, you got angry. You were ready to break Dick’s arm that time he caught me falling from that stairway.” Y/N laughed.

“He shouldn’t have his hands that low on your waist. You can easily catch someone using their armpits.” Conner said, a childish ‘hmph’ leaving his lips.

“Yeah, okay Mr. I can lift a car with my pinky.”

Conner rolled his eyes, before using his hands to tickle the Omega’s sides, “You think you’re so funny.”

Y/N tried to fight against the laughs coming up his chest and push Conner away, but the Alpha was obviously stronger than him and easily held him down while continuing to tickle him mercilessly. Eventually, he released him and they both calmed down.

The Alpha continued to lay gently on top of the Omega, burying his face in the smaller male’s neck to breathe in his scent while Y/N rubbed his hands up and down the larger male’s back and through his dark hair. It was intimate and peaceful, the two lovebirds finally enjoying what they both had secretly been craving for so long.

Eventually, their friends came to check on them, interrupting the special moment. Wally apologized to Conner after he and Zatanna explained their plan, to which the Alpha and Omega gave unamused looks to their friends, though they both appreciated the gesture since it did help them finally get together.

Y/N also apologized to M’Gann for his behavior but did warn her that if ever tried something like that with his Alpha again, she’d realize just how creatively violent he could get with his magic. Surprisingly, she also apologized, but the Omega could tell that his friends probably forced her to do so.

Either way, he was happy.

He and his idiot Alpha were finally together.

☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[gaelic-holiday]

New fic idea: Merlin tells everyone he has magic right from the start, but no one believes him.

Arthur: How did you manage to bring me rolls that are still warm, Merlin?

Merlin: Magic, sire. (with a teasing grin)

Arthur: Haha, very funny, Merlin

Gwen: How did the poultice you gave me heal my father?

Merlin: Magic.

Gwen: You can tell me me the truth, Merlin. I know you're not foolish enough to use magic in Camelot.

Merlin: I really, really am.

Gwain: How do you keep not dying when we run into bandits?

Merlin: I use my magic to protect myself.

Gwaine: Lol, nice one, Merlin.

Leon: Hey Merlin, why are you reading from a book that looks like a book of sorcery?

Merlin: Oh, because I have magic and am studying spells so I can use it better.

Leon, laughing: If you say so, Merlin.

Percival: Hey Merlin, how do you get the fire started so quickly?

Merlin: Magic. Forbearn is a really easy spell.

Percival, laughing: Alright, fine. Keep your secrets, 'oh mystical sorcerer'.

Elyan: And where do you keep disappearing to, Merlin?

Merlin: Oh, just saving Arthur from whatever assasin or magical threat crops up this week!

Elyan, playing along: Oh really? And which was it when you missed going to the tavern with us?

Merlin, completely serious: Morgause sent a swarm of enchanted birds to try and rip out Arthur's heart.

Elyan: You have a strange sense of humour, Merlin.

Uther: And how, precisely, did you survive the encounter you've just described?

Merlin: I used magic.

Uther:...I have no idea why my son seems to like you so much. You're an idiot.

Arthur: Hey, he's my idiot. And my idiot is just the kind of person to joke about having magic to the king of Camelot.

Merlin: Why do you assume I'm joking?

Arthur: See what I mean?

Lancelot, the only person besides Gaiuss that actually knows about Merlin's magic: How on earth do you keep that a secret?

Merlin: I don't. I use magic in front of literally everyone, and no one believes me.

Lancelot: You're joking.

Merlin: I literally use magic to fill Arthur's tub in front of him every day, and he assumes I'm joking about having it.

Gaius, very distressed: Merlin, you really should be more careful with your magic.

Merlin, calls Arthur over: watch this trick!

Merlin, summons a glowing, clearly magic butterfly in front of Arthur: Isn't magic neat?

Arthur, patting Merlin on the shoulder: Like you could ever learn magic, Merlin. Make sure you polish my armor again, will you?

Merlin: Why, do you intend to use it as a mirror?

Arthur: *flips Merlin off and walks away*

Merlin: See Gaius? Perfectly safe.

Gaius:...

Merlin: If it wasn't so convenient for me, I'd be very worried about how unobservant our future king is.

[daenerys-stormborn]

TARGARYEN WEEK Day 6: Favorite Family Dynamic - THE GREAT BASTARDS

While on his deathbed, Aegon legitimized his bastards and placed them in his line of succession after his firstborn, Daeron II.

Daemon Blackfyre  

Daemon I Blackfyre, born Daemon Waters, was the bastard son of Princess Daena Targaryen and King Aegon IV Targaryen. Daemon when denied Princess Daenerys he rose up and  swayed half the kingdom to support his claim to the Iron Throne against King Daeron II in a war called the Blackfyre Rebellion. He was the first and greatest of the Blackfyre Pretenders.   

Aegor 'Bittersteel' Rivers  

Ser Aegor Rivers, often called Bittersteel, was a renowned knight. In the First Blackfyre Rebellion, Aegor sided with Daemon against King Daeron II.  Bittersteel fled Westeros after Daemon’s death at the end of the rebellion to the Free City of Tyrosh.  Aegor founded the Golden Company, a famous mercenary organization, to stop the loss of support for the Blackfyres.  

Brynden 'Bloodraven' Rivers  

Lord Brynden Rivers, called “Lord Bloodraven”. Brynden was a Targaryen loyalist during the Blackfyre Rebellions, the Hand of Aerys I and Maekar I Targaryen, and Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. Shiera Seastar, another bastard of Aegon IV, was his mistress. His half-brother Aegor “Bittersteel” Rivers desired Shiera also, which served in increasing the enmity between the two. Bloodraven was thought to be a sorcerer. He disappeared while ranging beyond the Wall in 252 AC. He is discovered to be The Three-Eyed Raven by Bran Stark.  

Shiera Seastar  

Shiera Seastar was the last of the Great Bastards of King Aegon IV Targaryen.  Shiera never married, but took many lovers, and numerous duels were fought for her favor. Her half-brother Brynden Rivers repeatedly proposed marriage to her. Although she refused to marry him, she did share her bed with him.Her other half-brother Bittersteel, was said to have also desired her, which only served to increase the hatred between Bloodraven and Bittersteel. There were rumors that she bathed in the blood of maidens to retain her beauty.  

[merlingenrecs]

Peace reigns, Arthur is King, magic roams free, and Merlin is finally able to embrace his destiny in the open. Whether it’s stories set in an idyllic Camelot where old prejudices have been overcome, or simply quiet moments of happiness shared between friends, this category is all about the Golden Age being truly golden.

Today's gen fic rec theme: Happy Golden Age

↓ Find the list of fanfic recs under the cut! ↓

⚬ Freedom by reelin_writer, 1k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/35368405 summary: "The first few days after magic was legalized, Merlin passed out four times." The new Court Sorcerer is collapsing right and left. After the initial panic, the populace is unfazed. Even Gaius acts like it's normal. By the third time, Arthur's the only one that doesn't seem to think Merlin's behavior is natural. Well, if no one else will, Arthur's going to get to the bottom of it.

⚬ Other Duties as Assigned by N16, 5k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/33804967 summary: Tess finds many things about Camelot strange, but nothing quite as strange as Merlin, the king’s… Well. That’s the strange thing. Try as she may, Tess can’t figure out quite what Merlin is.

⚬  In the Light of Day by N16, 3k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/48470635 summary: It’s not a big deal. Arthur and Merlin get attacked in the forest and they successfully defend themselves. It has happened a hundred times before. And yet this time, it’s entirely different.

⚬ Magic Wanders Free by N16, 3k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/38988387 summary: Merlin has magic. Arthur knows that now. He can do all kinds of dramatic, extraordinary things. Perhaps even more miraculously, he can also do a million little things. And he doesn’t even realize it.

⚬ The Royal Pet by N16, 1k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/39395520 summary: It’s very convenient having a sorcerer as Arthur’s manservant. Unless, of course, Arthur gets on said sorcerer’s nerves. Then things get… decidedly less convenient.

⚬ When the Inevitable Comes by N16, 3k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/49949851 summary: It was inevitable that one day, one of them would be left behind. Someone had to die first. They both knew that. They did not, however, agree on who that someone would be.

⚬ Coming Home by N16, 7k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/50026903 summary: When a simple errand turns into something dark and violent, Merlin returns to Camelot with wounds both inside and out. And he’s in no condition to take care of himself, whether he realizes it or not.

⚬ Lucky Roll by N16, 1k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/29379705 summary: Months after Arthur learns about Merlin’s magic, he suddenly realizes the truth about all of those games of dice. He is not happy.

⚬ The Great Tavern Conspiracy by N16, 5k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/34503646 summary: Arthur knows that Merlin isn't at the tavern. That's just a lie Merlin used to tell, back before Arthur knew he had magic. So if Merlin isn't at the tavern all those times he disappears, where the hell is he?

⚬ Speak (With) Your Mind by s0mmerspr0ssen, 7k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/43308666 summary: When Merlin sets out to teach mindspeech to Arthur, he couldn't have known just how much it would affect the friendship between King and Court Mage.

⚬ With this I Protect (For this is My Oath) by salted_popcorn, 1k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/52629106 summary: Yule is the time of year to reflect on the past year and look forward to the year ahead. But with the guilt that lingers and the people they lost? How does one look forward? This is a story of love, protection and promises.And fluff, of course of Merlin and his best friend's son.

⚬ Like Father, Like Son by salted_popcorn, 1k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/40868550 summary: "Shut up, idiot. I didn't ask him to break into the vaults. It was his own idea." Merlin chuckled. "Doesn’t surprise me. You both have terrible ideas. Like father, like son." Really, the Prince need to stop following his father's advice on certain things.

⚬ Grumblings of the Head Knight by salted_popcorn, 1k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/40868700 summary: Council sessions were tedious, boring and repetitive. Everyone hated them. But no one had figured out it was Sir Leon's revenge plan. Oh, and Merlin had burned down half of the castle. Leon did not want to deal with things anymore.

⚬ Greet The Dawn by Flight_of_Fantasy, 6k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/43201323 summary: Merlin is terribly nervous about the transition from servant to court sorcerer, and Gwen knows a thing or two about transitioning from a servant to a member of the court. Luckily, she has a remedy. She began it when she became Queen, and she's more than happy to share her secret with Merlin.