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polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup · 1 year ago

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i love you expanding on the zenin’s & megumi’s dynamic because like — there had to be so much more than gojo just getting megumi. it had to involve more politics, more manipulation, etc & you added to that.

( i always like that detail about gojo teaching megumi everything from the gojo playbook. like it made me realize that megumi was more gojo than zenin, which probably pissed off the zenin )

what made you expand on the great custody battle between gojo & the zenins for megumi? like the visitation rights? did gojo know how badly megumi was going to be treated? also how would you describe megumi dynamic with each prominent zenin clan member (ex. naoya, mai, naobito, maki.)

I am sooo convinced there’s an entire child custody battle political drama lurking beneath canon but gege denies me

Visitation rights:

The decision that the Zenin clan briefly got visitation rights was a combination of where Gojo was at that point in life and what a sheer, unmitigated shitshow adopting Megumi must have caused.

The thing is that the Zenin and the Gojo clan are established in canon as rivals at best and enemies at worst. Gojo swanning in like "I have discovered the Magic of teenaged fatherhood and want to teach this spunky, angry little dude how to Throw A Baseball. Btw he's zenin and the clan already sort of “”””””purchased”””””” him, meaning they already consider him property even more than they usually do with their kids. i will be keeping him tho. xoxoxoxoxo" must have been insulting to the Zenin. It must have been even more insulting that he could legitmately do that and overpower their entire clan without having to even try. It's bad even if megumi is just like, the run of the mill sorcerer. But he had the most powerful techinque in their bloodline. I legitimately think that Gojo almost started a war when he decided that his boyfriend had dumped him and he needed to immediately adopt a child about it.

The thing is that I think gojo really must have been committing the ultimate taboo for a society he was raised within. Older, traditional mindsets tend to think of children as property, and the clans are established to be almost exclusively self governed. Gojo making a Zenin boy his business would stomp right over that standard. Add in the complication of inherited techniques being viewed as almost a highly treasured clan heirloom within the invidual families, and you have a perfect recipe for the entire world being very very angry at Gojo for doing this.

And the thing is that present-day Gojo would have absolutely told everyone to get fucked, he does what he wants.

But this isn't present-day Gojo. This is seventeen year old Gojo. And he's just coming off three of the biggest failures of his life: 1) Riko's death, 2) Haibara's death and 3) Geto's defection.

Gojo has always been extremely self-assured as a character, but teenagers tend to be a little bit more uncertain and vulnerable than their adult counterparts, and Gojo, again, had just been hit by failure after failure. If there was ever a time in his life where he would have been looking for outside guidance, it was this one.

And the number one most likely candidate to guide him in this was Yaga.

I've talked in other posts about how Principal Yaga's dynamic with Gojo suggests he's not in the inner circle of trust the way that Nanami, Shoko, or even Ijichi is. I've also discussed how I think he compromises too much with the higher ups, why that works with his character but ultimately comes to the detriment of the students, and how he ultimately fails to protect the students in his charge.

The thing is that if Yaga was making the decision, he absolutely would have compromised with the Zenin.

Yaga very consistently is shown to care about the students, but to not protect them. It's also established that the most likely cause of that is the fact that he panders to the higher ups, even if he is more progressively minded than someone like Gakuganji.

In the past arc, geto and gojo have a throwaway line in a conversation about how Yaga's busy campaigning to be principal with the higher ups. we also have him 1) excluded from the people who know about Yuuji's survival, which 2) he later punishes Gojo for, albeit partially because of the disrespect towards Gakuganji and for hiding his survival.

That being said, if I was the principal of a school where my sister school's principal set up my entire first year class to die, i would not be punishing a teacher for disrespecting that man. I would be too busy beating him to death with my bare hands. Good luck trying some shit with my fucking students again you dead fuck.

i would simply not make it as an educator in this world.

Gojo would have had the entire world up in arms at him when he took megumi and refused to give him back. The Zenin, for obvious reasons--but also the higher ups trying to preserve the status quo and the other clans, who want to maintain their ability to rear and keep their children without outside interference. He would have most likely said to give Megumi back entirely, but I don't think Gojo would go for that complete of a surrender of him, especially after Megumi asked him to keep him with Tsumiki and to keep them in a place she could be happy.

But very limited visitation would 1) at least somewhat soothe ruffled feathers, even if they are still furious, 2) give megumi access to information on his technique that he could not possibly get otherwise, and 3) supposedly cause minimal damage, since they only get him for a few days a month and are supposed to love him more than anyone. It's the sort of compromise I could see Yaga pitching in the best possible faith--and it's the sort of compromise that I see blowing up spectacularly, because the Zenin are fucking insane.

When I'm dealing with past versions of characters with very defined personalities, I sort of like to trace in the roots of their present-day selves in any backstory i make for them. Gojo of the present day is completely uncompromising when it comes to protecting his students and their youth. He is not afraid to butt heads with the higher ups and ruffle feathers to do it. So i decided to make that because he compromised when he was seventeen and doing his best, and Megumi paid the price, and he is so, so goddamn sorry for that. He doesn't let Yaga into the inner circle by the time we make it to canon because he was in the inner circle, and taking his advice directly resulted in Gojo's absolute biggest regret, which was letting the Zenin have unsupervised access to Megumi.

I think Gojo as a character is someone who refuses to repeat old mistakes, and what happened when Megumi was a child is something that he won't ever forgive or forget. A part of him still blames Yaga for convincing him to compromise with the Zenin and iced him out by the time we hit canon as a result.

Gojo and Megumi's treatment:

He had absolutely no idea how bad it would be for Megumi.

The thing is that Gojo approached it with the severely biased mindset of someone who thought he knew exactly how Megumi would be treated when he was with the clan, because it was supposed to be how he was treated growing up. The Six Eyes/Limitless user and the Ten Shadows were supposed to be corollaries. Megumi was meant to be to the Zenin what Gojo was to his clan, and if anything, the issue with his clan was that they treasured him too much. Gojo get up as this much beloved, much revered godling who was put on a pedestal and had all the distance of it.

In my mind, the issue with his childhood was that he was indulged to the point of being deprived of actual human connection or intimacy that he didn't truly get until Geto and Shoko.

In Gojo's mind, the biggest danger was that Megumi would be treated with too much reverence and distance, but he was spending the vast majority of the month with his big sister and the teen parenting trio. He would get plenty of normal interaction and intimacy from them. He thought that there would be no one in the Zenin clan who would dare raise a finger against him, because no one would have ever done that to him as a child. He never imagined that the Zenin would be legitimately dangerous to Megumi, and there were a lot of red flags he overlooked when the worst of it was going on because he assumed he already knew what was happening. When this was happening, he was completely burnt out, overwhelmed, mourning more than one friend, and struggling to meet the burden of being the strongest alone. He thought Megumi was acting out because 1) megumi already was getting in fights at school, and he made the mistake of thinking that Megumi was just a stubborn kid going through a sort of angry phase and 2) that Megumi hated them so much because visitation days meant he couldn’t stay with his sister. He didn’t realize that Megumi was fighting so hard to not go on visits because he was legitimately afraid of what the Zenin clan would do to him when he got there. For a lot of reasons that I won’t get into now, Megumi thought that putting up with the abuse was the cost of getting to keep his sister. He asked for help, told them that he didn’t like it at the Zenin compound and didn’t want to go, but he didn’t have the words to really explain what they were doing to him and gojo didn’t understand how bad it was. Megumi read this as “knowing and not caring” and thought the teen parenting trio knew how bad it was and that he just had to suffer through it or they’d take his sister away from him. By the time they realized what was really going on, it had escalated beyond the point of repair. Gojo has a lot of regrets.

Megumi's dynamic:

Naobito: Disturbed.

Naobito was the one who initially purchased Megumi from his father. And if Gojo hadn't had intervened, he would have personally taken Megumi into his household and raised him as the Zenin clan heir. He didn't really give a shit about Megumi until he realized he was the Ten Shadows, and after that, he felt completely entitled to him.

I think Naobito was always sort of insulted by Gojo's existence. He predated Gojo, is the thing, and he's the most powerful character that we know of in the pre-Gojo era other than Yuki Tsukomo, who wasn't an active fighter for the higher ups. As far as we know, he was the strongest until Gojo and Geto came along. Gojo potentially represented an immediate and violent shift of power from the Zenin clan to the Gojo, and it definitely would sting to be upstaged by a literal child.

The Ten Shadows returning to the clan represented a chance to correct that balance again.

If we accept that the Ten Shadows is a technique that can rival the Six Eyes/Limitless user, as well as the idea that the universe introduces “balances” to the birth of beings of power, then we at least have an environment where the Zenin may believe that whoever is next born with the Ten Shadows would be Gojo Satoru’s equal. Considering they value strength above all else, that gives them major incentive to desire the assimilation of whoever has the ten shadows technique into the clan.

But this was made a lot worse by the fact that the last ten shadows died.

The timeline in this is generally:

Second to last ten shadows: the one who got in the duel with the six eyes that gojo discussed in canon (~500 years ago)

Last ten shadows: child that was killed within months of discovering his technique (~200-300 years ago)

Current ten shadows: Megumi.

So they had just come off an overwhelmingly powerful Ten Shadows user, only to hurtle into the shame and humiliation of not being able to protect the next one. I like the idea that the six eyes and the ten shadows tend to pop up at the same time, so that means that the last six eyes got to grow and gain power while the Zenin were still licking their wounds from their heir being offed at a very young age. It’s insult to injury.

In the modern age, Naobito is coming off the humiliation of having been replaced by a literal child as the strongest sorcerer. He’s still harboring the ancestral humiliation of having lost the last ten shadows. And then gojo hits the humiliation of taking the new one right out from under his nose. Naobito bears that humiliation personally, because he’s the clan leader who should have brought Megumi into the fold and didn’t.

As a result, he’s just about obsessed with Megumi. He absolutely refuses to give up on bringing him back into the clan and grooming him to be the perfect, promised heir whose idea he’s been clinging to since before Megumi was even born.

There’s just something about how, in canon, Naobito had a clause in his will locked and loaded to make Megumi heir if anything happened to take gojo out of commission. I think that losing Megumi to gojo was personal to him, and that he’s almost fixated on Megumi as a result.

For his part, Megumi hates him and is a little afraid of him, though he’d never admit it. All of his interactions with the Zenin clan are skewed through the lens of “he was fucking six and just thought they were crazy motherfuckers who were weird about blood.” Megumi legitimately does not understand how important his technique is to them—he thinks they’d be possessive with any inherited technique, and he has sort of explained away any weirdness particular to him as it being because of what went down with gojo.

The Zenin view what they do to him as love. He’s the inheritor of their most treasured technique, and the only good thing toji did was name him blessing. It’s like Maki said—any resistance he has to them is attributed to Gojo’s influence, and they’re banking on overcoming it one day and returning him to the clan. Things like wearing the kimono and being called the ten shadows is a sign of genuine honor for them.

Megumi views it as a constant, persistent humiliation that’s probably just meant to spite gojo. They bought him because they’d buy any kid who inherited a technique, and then gojo saved him, which embarrassed the clan, so they’ve been getting back at him for it ever since. They can’t actually hurt gojo, so they hurt the kid he saved.

He’s dressed up like a doll in the kimono to mock him. Being called the ten shadows isn’t an honor to him—it’s dehumanizing. He has a name and they refuse to call him anything but his technique, which is why they bought him to begin with. From his perspective, it’d be like if you were hired for being Microsoft proficient and your boss refused to call you anything but “excel spreadsheet” because that’s all you were to them.

Naobito is the one who had “custody” of him as a kid in the clan, and he’s the one who called a lot of the shots with how he was treated. Megumi remembers him as the source of some of his most painful moments in childhood, and it’s undercut with this growing fear that Naobito won’t let him go. He’s sort of picked up on how obsessed Naobito is with him, and it scares him even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

Naoya: about as bad as can be.

Megumi really hits all of naoya’s inferiority/superiority complex hard. The thing is that Naoya kind of is sour he didn’t get the ten shadows. He was born right after gojo satoru, to the heir of the clan. He wants to be strong more than anything, and the ten shadows is supposed to be one of the strongest things in the world. Megumi is toji’s son, who he’s got that weird obsession with. And everyone sort of presumes Megumi would be heir if gojo hadn’t stolen him, which is a position Naoya would kill for.

In my mind, Naoya was one of megumis biggest abusers as a child. It made him feel strong to be able to hurt him. It made him feel strong to be able to make Megumi feel weak. His father was obsessed with Megumi, but Naoya was just cruel to him.

Megumi is legitimately terrified of Naoya. There was a time in his life where he genuinely thought Naoya would kill him one day.

Mai: A missed opportunity.

Megumi does remember Maki and Mai. Playing with them was the only good memory he has from that part of his life. He thinks of them as fondly as he can think of anything that happened in that place, and occasionally hopes they're okay, but he doesn’t really think of having a relationship with her ever. That would require going back to the Zenin, and he won’t ever willingly do that.

I’ve talked about how Mai thinks of Megumi in other posts, but he really does occupy a slightly less bitter version of the space Maki occupies in her mind. He was kind to her when no one else was, and it really was something that meant the world to her. There was a time in her life where she wished desperately he would come back and be her friend again. He was the ten shadows and the presumed heir to the clan, and he didn’t let anyone hurt her or Maki and agreed that they could all be friends. He sort of fueled her hope that things would get better one day, and when he went no contact, it sort of crashed her into a realization that it never would.

Maki: potential for growth

Maki turned her back on her entire family so she wouldn’t be crushed down, and that’s not something that didn’t hurt her. She convinced herself she would be absolutely alone for the rest of her life, but it would be fine because she would be strong enough to stand alone. It wouldn’t hurt.

(It did hurt.)

The other first years actually started to pull her back from that. It’s that moment after her talk with Yuuta, where she tells herself that she shouldn’t fall for it and go thinking she’s actually been accepted. She thought she would be alone and suddenly, for the first time, she’s not.

Megumi was a half remembered child she played with one time growing up. He didn’t mean the same to her that he did to Mai, because she didn't consider him a source of hope that things would get better the way that Mai did.

At the beginning of the fic, he was a bit of a sore spot, but not because of anything about him. I tried to very lightly hint that she had a bit of a sore spot around the Ten Shadows because there was a time in her life that people used to think that maybe she'd get it.

From birth, people knew Gojo would be the six eyes and limitless user. I like to think the Ten Shadows is the antithesis of the Six Eyes in almost every possible way, so in my mind, the ten shadows is notoriously hard to spot.

And i think that there is some canon to suggest this. Namely, the fact that they didn't know Megumi would have the ten shadows (or they wouldn't have been waiting to see what technique he had), the fact that megumi's cursed energy aura canonically changes with the shikigami summoned (re: his entire cursed energy output changing when he summoned mahoraga for the first time), and the fact that a huge part of his technique is stealth. With Gojo, you feel him from the other side of the block, but Megumi can be hiding in your own goddamn shadow and you don't know it.

I also like the idea that the Six Eyes and Ten Shadows tend to show up within the same lifetime. So from the second that Gojo Satoru was born, the zenin had an eye on the ten shadows finally returning to the clan once more.

Maki is from a branch of the clan that appears to be pretty high in the zenin clan hierarchy. By the time that she would have been developing a technique, if any, Naoya would have been confirmed as having not gotten it. Maki and Mai were the only other kids in that upper hierarchy that we know of. Canonically, it's implied you don't see curses from birth (if i have the right translation, Gojo at one point asks Megumi if he's started to see them, implying it doesn't happen right away, and when the Zenin buy megumi, they talk about how they think he has potential, implying there's an uncertain period where you don't know if a kid will be able to see curses). The clan probably had a lot of hope for them.

At one point, Kamo mentions that it would have been better if maki or mai had inherited Megumi's techinque, and I like to think that was a shared sentiment. Gojo was seventeen and had already usurped their clan as the strongest. They were getting desperate for the ten shadows to return, and a lot of people looked to maki and Mai for potentially inheriting it. And out of the two of them, Maki is the one that came off as having power (because she did--it was just a heavenly pact). Maki was certain, and confident, and moved like someone strong. People really, really wanted it to be her for a while. When she talks about how her dad used to take her to see the kimono a lot, it's because he was hoping she would wear it one day.

Maki was never jealous of Megumi. She's better off without her family anyway, and she's confident in who she is. But at the start, he was a little bit of a reminder of the sort of fall she had from the Zenin clan's greatest hope to their biggest disappointment. She never held any of it against him, but he reminded her of bad memories and set her on edge.

That turned on a dime while talking with Tsumiki in chapter 5, when she started piecing everything together. And megumi sort of became this chance to heal from old regrets.

Megumi will never be what Mai was to her, but a part of Maki still hasn't healed from leaving mai behind and losing her. Her sister hates her, and probably always will, and maki doesn't regret what she did but she does regret that it blew back on mai. She couldn't stay for mai, but she doesn't have to stay to help Megumi. She's sort of been ushered into a perfect opportunity to protect him from her family the way she could never protect mai, and he already means more to her than she really wants to admit out loud. She genuinely wants to protect him from her family, and a bit part of that is so that way she can finally protect someone from them, instead of just... failing and losing them.

For megumi's part, it's the same as mai--he barely remembers Maki, but he did think of her as the source of the only good memory he had in the clan.

He ran off with Mai, and Maki tracked them both down. He stomped his stupid clan clothes into the mud, and they didn't hurt him for it, not even a little bit. They played together, and playing is something he never had time to do anymore. Mai was the damsel, and Maki was the brave warrior coming to save her, and megumi's dogs played the part of the terrible monsters who had stolen mai away. Maki bullied Megumi into carrying her "swords" for her, and megumi honestly didn't mind, because all people did was make him fight at that stupid compound, and he just was relieved no one was hitting him for once. it was one of the greatest days he can remember from that phase of his life, and Maki has since been one of the only two zenin he missed. He hasn't thought of her in a while. He'd be glad to hear she got out.

#i have this entire prequel lore thing about megumis childhood with the Zenin but I don’t know how much I want to get into just because #I sort of want to write it but also probably don’t have the time #I will say what made them go no contact is what pushed Nanami over the edge and made him leave the jujutsu world entirely #he had been on the brink for ages and that was what broke him #Nanami had the line talking about how he promised Megumi he’d never have to go back to the Zenin compound again because he was the one who #first found out about what the Zenin had done to him and just couldn’t forgive himself after #all he could see was haibara #all of the teen parenting trio were messes when tsumiki and Megumi were young but Nanami really truly loved them so much and he has never #ever forgiven himself for not finding out and putting a stop to it sooner #sea glass gardens

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hag-lad · 8 months ago

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Imma keep it real with you chief. I can’t even imagine still liking or caring about star wars in the year of our lord 2024.

#it’s just so oversaturated and soulless now #the Disney star wars products really have done the impossible:#they ruined even the original trilogy for me #not REALLY cuz I do still love those movies and they’ll always be important to me #but I literally never want to talk about them ever again #and I could probably quite happily go the rest of my life never watching them again #and that’s the THREE GOOD ONES #as for the six hundred thousand billion trillion shite ones?! lmao burn in hell #that goes for the damn prequel trilogy too omg I can’t stand the apologia for those turds just cuz the sequels suck more #they’re all bad! it’s okay. they can all be bad!

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reneesbooks · 10 months ago

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snippet saturday

still not a thing but this is my blog and i make the rules and i'm THINKING about birdie and fabin. i swear i'll get back to jack and arthur in a second just let me scream about birdie and fabin for a minute

Emilia tucks her wings against her back, settling in the grass next to Birdie. “When do you think we’ll have to return to Morbhard?”

Birdie stares out over the fields, her pulse quickening. Emilia senses that she’s asked a question that Birdie doesn’t want to answer. Birdie lets out a long breath. “I’m not sure.”

A lie, but Emilia doesn’t question it.

Birdie glances at the sky. “The sun will go down soon. I should make preparations. It’s the full silver moon tonight.”

Emilia shrinks into her human form and sets her hand on Birdie’s shoulder. “I can make the tea if you’d like.”

Birdie smiles. “Thank you. That would be nice.”

Emilia returns to the cottage and puts the kettle on the fire, digging her toe into the floor as she mixes the herbs. As much as she trusts them, as much as they’ve all grown closer over the weeks and months at the cottage, Birdie is still hiding things.

The kettle finally starts to whistle and Emilia pours a cup of tea. She heads back out to the garden. Birdie is standing next to Fabin, clearly just arrived from the forest, smiling up at him as he complains that the deer are getting better at hiding. Her laughter dies abruptly as the silver moon’s light hits her, her preparations forgotten in the grass a few steps away.

Fabin backs away as Birdie’s silver light explodes outward, a pulse of magic flattening the grass in a circle around her. Her tripled voice shrieks, her hair lifting off her shoulders. The entire whites of her eyes burn silver.

Blood starts to run from her nose. Fabin shrinks and tries to step closer, shouting her name. Emilia grabs a washcloth and grips it tightly behind her back, the fabric straining as she twists it nervously.

Birdie’s eyes begin to bleed as well, silver light pulsing from her. Fabin grits his teeth and takes three more shaking steps through the waves to reach Birdie. He grabs her shoulders and Emilia hears him shout her name.

Blood is streaming from her eyes and ears now, the third recitation barely begun. Fabin winces as silver magic lashes out at him, cuts opening on his cheeks. He keeps hold of Birdie, shaking her shoulders, trying to wake her up.

The silver light fades and Birdie’s eyes roll back. She collapses and Fabin catches her, lowering her slowly to the grass.

“Shit.” Jack and Arthur freeze in the doorway of the cottage. “Is she okay?”

“Does she fucking look okay?” Fabin growls, glaring at them. He snatches Birdie’s handkerchief from where she’d left it in the grass and starts to gently wipe the blood from her face. Emilia picks up the cup of tea again and moves cautiously. Birdie’s eyelids are fluttering, though she is limp in Fabin’s arms.

“The tea for her throat,” Emilia says quietly, when Fabin looks up at her with another growl. “I’ll look at those cuts.”

“I’m fine.” He holds the teacup to Birdie’s lips and Emilia flinches at the audibly painful gulps. “Birdie, can you hear me?”

Her silver eyes flick up to his face before fluttering closed again. She tucks her face into his chest.

Fabin leans down to murmur something to her that Emilia doesn’t hear. He presses his cheek to the side of Birdie’s head and Emilia stifles a gasp, averting her eyes.

Fabin stands with Birdie in his arms. “She needs to rest,” he says, not looking at any of them. He winces as he adjust his hold on her and Emilia wonders what other damage Birdie’s backlash did.

He says nothing else as he carries her into the house. Emilia bites her lip as Jack and Arthur turn to her with wide eyes. “I’ll make some more tea.”

#idk who to tag in this i just wanted y'all to know about Them #yeah last time most of you saw birdie she was like seven. now she's 19 and she's a monsterfucker. fabin is the monster obv.#and her godlike power is killing her btw. every time she puts off figuring out the prophecy her trances get worse. if u cared #writeblr #writeblr community #dark fantasy #fantasy novel #original fiction #i'm gonna finally post that wip intro for the raedoran cycle and then i'm just going to start posting out of context snippets #i don't work on this monster linearly. y'all got spoiled w lacuna #the rest of the RC? a hot mess. still deciding on the ending. lacuna went so smoothly bc i already knew what was going to happen #bc it was supposed to be a prequel short story!! curse u muse!!#anyway i'm SO normal about birdie and fabin. this is the least unhinged you will ever see me about them. just wait until he meets maura :))#fabin the most unfriendly motherfucker in the world is soft for one (1) person. will rip your throat out if you even look at her wrong #not like keelan tho. keelan has attack dog vibes but he can be controlled. nobody controls fabin #what are his goals? :)))))))#rb original #the witch #the raedoran cycle #birdie #fabin #emilia #jack #arthur

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lacewise · 1 year ago

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We don’t talk enough about how good the lace adorning Amidala’s wedding outfit was. Like… that’s good lace (each type conveying something different), and the way it was used completely succeeds in instantly scrambling my “when/where is that from” radar, as intended.

#I have read several articles on it #BUT I NEED MORE #it is so infinitely cool!!!#and well-made!!!#it’s one of the best lace costume designs I’ve ever seen #plus real needle lace!!!#in a movie #that was repurposed!#from antiques!!!! sooooo coool #I want to see it in person so I can drool over it better #the entire ensemble is magical #and the prequel costumes were all really good and interesting #I look at them all the time #despite not being a huge star wars fan

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ibijau · 1 year ago

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regrettably, my library doesn't have any of the riders of pern books, which is really too bad since I'm reaching the end of the darkover books I had borrowed and I wanted something else to read

They do have the locked tomb books (in french) so that was tempting, but I am just not sure I'm emotionally ready to either get into this or find out I don't like it and start being annoyed at 15% of my tumblr dashboard

I guess I need to check what other old school fantasy/sf books they have

#I realise that as much as I love fantasy I mostly just read what my dad had lying around #and our tastes didn't always align #I distinctly remember reading the entire Lyonesse trilogy by Jack Vance just because it was there and hating 85% of it with burning passion #(though the other 15% I really really loved a lot)#(unlike Darkover I absolutely refuse to subject myself to Lyonesse ever again and I doubt Ill want to read anything else of Jack Vance ever #I also have vague memory of other books I'd picked up and dropped #one I think was about those d&d novel dark elves with the spider cult?#another about a prince with a cursed sword that has super powers but pushes him to kill #and one prequel of like a mouse-themed clever guy and his big brawn buddy?#at the times I found these boring but I was young and also I skip fight scenes in novels so that didn't help lol #jau rants #and boy did I rant in the tags this time lol

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anjumstar · 2 years ago

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behind the scenes preview

I just wanna share a scene that I wrote in November 2021. The fic is years away, if it ever comes, but I like this scene a lot, so its worth posting even if the fic never comes to be.

Straight ahead: bkdk, fluff, rated g, talk of babies, an unexpected ship.

***

Twenty-eight was too young to have a baby.

Maybe the rest of society didn’t agree with that, but Katsuki could feel its truth in the way his heart thrummed against the plexiglass, the way his palms were sweating straight through his cotton sweatpants pockets. It was slick and slippery around the ring he pressed into his skin with his thumb. But Round Face had done it. Round Face and fucking Shitty Hair, of all people. And now a baby with the chubbiest cheeks Katsuki had ever seen was sleeping in the little well-baby nursery in the hospital. Cheeks for weeks, that kid had.

The new parents were resting, had been for nearly an hour now. Uraraka by doctor’s request, Kirishima by accident, though Katsuki supposed they’d both earned it. One more than the other, of course.

All their other idiot friends—the ones who’d been able to get off work, at least—were there, milling about the hospital as they were whenever any member of their gang landed themselves in there. Most had planted themselves in the same hallway as Katsuki, cooing at both the new Kirishima baby as well as all the other freshly baked spawn, sleeping or gazing unfocused up at the world with their innocent, googly eyes. This occasion, however, did go against precedent, as it was the first time someone was in the hospital for a good reason.

A good reason. Katsuki’s eyes tracked again to the chunkiest cheeks in the room. Thin wisps of black hair did little to cover his soft little skull, and, from what Katsuki had seen earlier, his eyes were still murky, not yet decided between brown or red or another color altogether. Still sleeping, so calm while all the occupants on Katsuki’s side of the plexiglass would be back to patrolling the streets in five to thirteen hours.

Izuku’s hair had been nearly black one time as a kid. Auntie Inko had been a little overly enthusiastic with the scissors and left most of Izuku’s green curls on the kitchen floor. For the next couple weeks, he’d been all eyes, eyes that were too big for his face without that ridiculously untamable hair. Not so different from the babies, whose eyes were glimmering with artificial light, trying to blink some understanding into it.

Katsuki’s mother had cut Izuku’s hair in the years after. His hair had remained green, green, green.

There was a baby in the corner, many bassinets over from Uraraka’s and Kirishima’s with yellow-green hair. Not the dew-soaked grass green of Izuku’s, but the overgrown grass of a dry field. A rice farm gone long without flooding. Green with an overtone of blond.

The thumping in his chest grew, he felt it all the way down to his clenched fists. Twenty-eight was so young for a hero. Still in their prime. No one from their class had retired yet, none, nor in Class B. What a ridiculous step it was for a hero to take. Truly, truly crazy—Katsuki had always known that Kirishima had hair for brains.

A rude word came to Katsuki’s tongue. An unnecessary announcement that he was out of there, that he was going to go for a damn walk, or something. But no one’s attention was on him. Why would it be, at a time like this? So, quietly, he backed away from the glass, and through the unfamiliar wing of the hospital.

It was Katsuki’s first time in the maternity ward, but he’d been in other wings of the hospital enough to have a general compass in him, guiding his feet in the vague directions of out and away.

He made it to a lounge that had a hanging TV that was muted with chunky subtitles taking up half of the screen. Beyond it was a large set of windows with a view of the city. Calm, as far as Katsuki could see—which wasn’t far, what with all the buildings. But there was no sign of agitation, anything a hero should be taking care of. He cracked his knuckles and kept his hands at chest level as he continued to eye the pedestrians from his vantage a couple floors above

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?”

Katsuki didn’t bother looking away from the cityscape. He’d know that voice ears plugged and body thrown underwater—but a phantasmic reflection of him was barely visible in the glass anyway. He should have known that there was always someone whose attention was on him.

Izuku took Katsuki’s left hand and spread his fingers, giving the wedding band a little twist. “Hmm, from the way you were fiddling with it, I thought there was something wrong with it.”

It was a stupid fucking habit, was what it was. The ring was finally starting to lose some of its newlywed shine after five years of marriage. Almost five. And half of that tarnish was from Katsuki twisting and tugging it like a cliché housewife, waiting for her husband to return from war. But his husband was right here, for once very much not at war or in battle of any kind.

He then stepped further into Katsuki’s line of sight, a big smile on his face behind the disposable mask. Different from his hero smile, mostly in the raise of his eyebrows, and not just because that was the part that Katsuki could see. There was mirth and teasing, an effort to draw a smile out of Katsuki. He didn’t, but he did twist his wrist so that Izuku’s hand was now in his, both falling by their sides.

“It’s fucking weird is what it is,” Katsuki said, his voice quiet enough that it wouldn’t reach any of the other people who’d been drawn to this place for whatever unfortunate reason. “Heroes don’t have kids.”

“Some do,” Izuku replied immediately, even after all these years, wholly unable to hold back precise hero knowledge. “Remember babysitting Rock Lock’s son?”

Did Katsuki ever. After Toogota’s class graduated, the newly minted 2-A had become the go-to class for brat corralling, what with Eri continuing to hang off of Aizawa’s remaining leg like a goddamn insect baby. The kid’s quirk had just manifested and was freezing anything he touched in place. Apparently it was a good opportunity for the heroes-in-training to work on basic quirk counseling, another tool needed in their metaphorical toolkit.

It hadn’t been fun. The critter was so needy and so bad at saying what he needed and using his goddamn words. Nothing Katsuki could imagine anyone in their right mind ever choosing. But here someone from their group finally had, two someones.

“It was hyperbole, dumbass.”

Izuku’s hand wrapped tighter around Katsuki’s, their wrists twisting so there was contact all the way up their arms. “Talk to me, Kacchan. Are you worried for them?”

Finally, Katsuki looked at his husband. His eyes took up less of his face now, despite the fact that his cheeks had slimmed down over the years. But when Katsuki blinked, he could still see a boy of all ages beneath Izuku’s civvies.

“They’ll be fine,” Katsuki said gruffly, turning back to the window again.

For a moment, there was silence, Izuku waiting, giving Katsuki the chance to say more. Katsuki never used to feel any pressure to fill silences, pointed or otherwise, but he didn’t like keeping things from Izuku. Never had, not really. Of all their problems, that had never been a root one.

Finally, quietly: “Is it something you think about?”

Izuku’s eyes were still on Katsuki—they were bright and shiny in his periphery. “Babies?”

“Children.”

“Hmm,” Izuku hummed, looking out the window with Katsuki. Their shoulders, though, drew ever closer, knocking deltoid against meaty deltoid. “I’m not sure. Maybe not so much. Just kind of vaguely. I don’t know, it seemed unlikely. Do you, Kacchan?”

“No,” he said, curt, clipped. “Maybe. Maybe now. I don’t know.”

“Together?”

Izuku’s voice was nearly a whisper, a sound he’d taken years to learn. Not his usual loud pronouncements or accidental mutterings, but a purposeful bit of privacy. Like all of their other forms of intimacy, it had grown over time.

Katsuki’s lip twitched and he hissed out a puff of air. “Dumbass.”

“There are ways people like us can do that now,” he murmured. “If that’s something we would want?”

Yes, they could, but should they? Already, at twenty-eight, Izuku was the most sought-out hero in Japan, and Katsuki was just behind him—they came as a matching set most of the time anyway. Their schedules didn’t always fit in sleep as it was and Katsuki had experienced nine months already of Kirishima fretting over every little thing that could go wrong with a hero having a child. The danger that a kid could be in just for that. Or the kind of parent a hero could turn out to be. Katsuki didn’t have to look farther than Endeavor or Shimura Nana for a front row seat to that shit show.

The signs pointed very clearly toward the logical answer, the empirically correct answer.

But Katsuki and Izuku had home videos of the two of them as soft little toddlers at their house. Katsuki had flipped through Auntie Inko’s photo albums and had the image of Izuku as a baby no bigger than Kouda’s pet rabbits emblazoned in his mind. The image of the brief period of Izuku holding Uraraka’s baby was fresh and squishable in his mind, tactile with how real that moment had been.

No one had more love in their heart than Izuku, and he would make the best dad. Katsuki wanted to see that, wanted the magic want to wave to make that happen.

Not now, God, not now. Not when it had only just begun to occur to him.

“Kacchan?”

Katsuki was clenching Izuku’s hands. Izuku was clenching right back.

“Yes,” he said, quietly, like it was barely true. But growing every second. “It is.”

#anjum writes #bkdk #honestly after writing all the way home i'm not sure i can write another bkdk baby fic #it was so hard to write since i really don't think they'd go for having kids #even in a fic where i made it their choice and sought after i don't think i'd buy it #but i'm so in love with the fic idea?#luckily them having kids wouldn't be till the sequel #so maybe i could still write the prequel #literally y'all if this fic ever comes out its YEARS away hahahaha #so maybe y'all can convince me that they'd want kids before that. please.#i already know that there are things in this scene that are wrong #there IS 1 class a student who's retired. guess who?#and the ages are super wrong lol bkdk have been married for a year-ish #but the rest...hopefully we'll find out one day 😅

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starpros-sunshine · 22 days ago

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"You just need to lower your expectations" No you don't, actually. Don't let them hand you mediocrity under the excuse that your standards are just too high. Demand more.

#I am SO fed up with todays movie industry #I haven't watched a single good film from this decade or actually one that was made within...ever since the success of bohemian rhapsody #and those egregious disney live action remakes #and every single thing that gets announced these days is a spin-off or a reboot or a remake or a prequel or a sequel #i wouldn't even complain if it was adaptations because those still bring some artistic value to the table #they can at least #but the standards have to be Really high because a bad adaptation is no better than a soulless cash grab #I'm not saying they didn't have a lot of bad films in the 60s either but at least those were bad because they were just badly written #they weren't badly made and a blatant nostalgia cash grab #except the elvis films. those were also cash grabs. BUT THOSE WERE AT LEAST ORIGINAL #"oh but everythings been done already'' Not an excuse.#reduce reuse recycle is not a principle that applies to art #there's still books being written there's still tv shows being made some of them good even #and most of them don't need to tie themselves to a big name #I heard they were planning on making a fred astaire biopic #the thing he explicitly asked not to be done HE EXPLICITLY SAID THAT HE DIDNT WANT THAT IN HIS WILL HE STATED THAT HE DID NOT WANT THAT #IN HIS LITERAL WILL. AS IN THE THING YOU WRITE YOUR FINAL WISHES IN WHEN YOU DIE #AND THEY STILL DIDN'T RESPECT IT #THATS WHAT BEING A LARGELY INFLUENTIAL FIGURE OF THE GOLDEN AGE GETS YOU #I'm fuming I'm so mad #I have a very personal grudge against the genre of the biopic (the only exception being ''Weird: The Al Yankovic Story''#because that one's funny) and I blame this one You Bohemian Rhapsody #that sodding inaccuracy riddled piece of chliché rot #and I will admit that watching it in school was a bit of a formative experience #I don't know if I would be the way I am now if it wasn't for that film because Queens music did a LOT in terms of.#you know. questures. forming my general personality and vibe.#BUT GOD DO I HATE THAT FILM AND EVERYTHING IT STANDS FOR #I'm just very passionate about my motion pictures and my silver screens and all don't mind me don't mind me #sigh

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crowshapedvoid · 11 months ago

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[ID: a post by @/triviallytrue that says:

every day star wars fans come on this site and say some version of "star wars would be so good if it was good"

/end ID]

man. the star wars sequel trilogy could have been so good if they hadn't fucked it up

#okay but part of why the sequel trilogy failed so much is bc of unoriginal many parts of it were #like the first one was a rehash of a new hope and while the second one tried a lot of new things #it didn't have much to build on #and ofc the third reversed all those decisions and went back to PALPATINE #motherfucking palpatine #like.#not only was it so clear that everything our original trio had tried to accomplish had failed #but also the way everything in sequels backslide into the same vague setting of the originals just made feel like nothing would ever be #accomplished within the star wars universe #like the acting and new characters were good but so much of much needed experimentation and world building was thrown to the wayside so they #could retred the same ground #and it sucks!!#(this is why ill always defend the prequels btw - even if the execution wasn't always good #at least they were trying and clearly had smth they wanted to say)#anyway yeah. star wars /would/ be so good if it were good #star wars

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halflingkima · 8 months ago

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evil evil evil WHAT is the point of writing a retelling if you're just gonna RETELL it

#me when the retelling of the tempest ends like the tempest: 😠#i am poking fun at myself but also the only reason i made it thru the book is that i convinced myself it'd be a happy ending #idk why. there was nothing to indicate it so. i just ASSUMED like an ASS #anyway if you ever wanted a painstaking prequel to the tempest. it's about as good as one could be i think #it's not fun to read #currently reading tag

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gojorgeous · 1 year ago

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"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.”

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong.

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.”

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.”

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.”

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–”

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.”

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–”

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry.

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm?

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer.

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach.

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope.

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road.

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.”

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.”

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.”

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.”

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare.

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to.

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto.

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck.

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed.

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home.

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.

“Yes you can. I know you can.”

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.”

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.”

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.”

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.”

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–”

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.”

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours.

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly.

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs.

“Feel anything?” he asks.

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter.

“Sleep, baby.”

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot.

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs.

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.”

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint.

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-”

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.”

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.”

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place.

“No, baby.”

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully.

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin.

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.”

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight.

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants.

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead.

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit.

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives.

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled.

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him.

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need.

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled.

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away.

“Gonna knot you good, princess.”

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes.

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk.

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.”

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss.

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything.

“Sugu–”

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling.

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens.

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness.

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that.

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…”

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much.

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine.

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.”

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams.

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.”

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it.

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…”

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl.

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised.

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

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