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fettuccinealfred0 · 9 months

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Til Death Do Us Part | Part 3

Masterlist

Astarion x f!reader, Arranged Marriage AU

Word Count: 8.4k

(CW: general vampirism, period typical sexism, forced marriage)

Summary:

“How dare you?” You shoot back at him, stepping to the side to move around him. He mirrors you, stepping to the side as well, and continuing to block you. Growing frustrated with his antics, you narrow your eyes, “I have been nothing but polite and civilized since-”

“Ah yes, polite and civilized, the first two adjectives anyone would use to describe you.” Astarion interrupts. “Certainly not obstinate and combative.”

His face is stern as he looks down at you and while the words themselves are a bit insulting, he says them with a hint of fondness that makes you think he might enjoy ‘obstinate and combative.’

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For as desperately as you tried to escape your room when you were first locked in, you spend most of your first week as Lady Ancunin holed up in your room (sans locked door). The estate was just too big and too foreign and your room felt like the only place that was exclusively yours, the only place where you could sort through all your confusing thoughts about Astarion without constant reminders of him that only served to muddle your mind further.

Early on in your life, you had decided that you would only bind yourself in marriage to someone you could love, someone who you could trust to understand you. You were unwilling to compromise your morals for just anyone- to trade the servitude of a daughter for the servitude of a wife. As skeptical and strong-willed as you may be, you were not completely immune to the charms of love. A young, romantic heart raised and nourished on happily ever afters had led you to believe that it was possible for you, too- for the idea of a life forever trapped under your father’s influence seemed unbearable.

And at the ball, you had grown careless, had been so charmed by Astarion’s shiny veneer that you didn’t think to dig into the rot hidden underneath. No, Astarion had offered you the hope of love and laughed as he tore it away from you.

You let yourself be mad at Astarion- he was everything you wanted, everything you could see yourself growing to love in a person. Of course his good looks and charms endeared him to you instantly, but that was all decoration which held no real substance. No, you had liked him because he had listened to you, he had respected you, and most of all, he had matched you. In a world where women were always looked down upon, you thought you had found someone who viewed you as an equal.

But, you remind yourself, a vampire could never truly view a human as an equal. There was a predatory dynamic inherent to that relationship which could never be escaped. For as much as Astarion might claim to respect you, he still sees you as something beneath him, something to be devoured. And for as much as you might have initially admired Astarion, you would never be able to forget the danger that surrounds him.

With your trust already broken by him, you were unwilling to believe he could be entrusted with something as sacred as your life. Already, so much of your life has been controlled by men- you deserve to be in charge of your own fate for once. And hadn’t Astarion been the first to offer you that choice?

With a sigh, you force yourself to clear your mind and focus on the task at hand. Shadowheart, the miracle worker that she is, managed to convince your father to send over all of your belongings. Since the chests had arrived this morning, you were spending the day sorting through everything and organizing your books on a bookshelf that Shadowheart had somehow procured for you.

Nestled carefully in the middle of a hollowed out book is the entire reason you had asked for your belongings- the necklace from your mother. Your idiot of a father must have been so pleased to be rid of you that he hadn’t even bothered to go through your things before he shipped them off.

The dark green gem shines as it catches the sunlight that streams through your windows and reminds you of sunshine filtered through the canopy of the forest. As you look at the gem, you think of the happy afternoons as a young girl where your mother had taken you and your brothers out to play in the lake, how you used to chase after the older boys on your much shorter legs before they grew tired of your whining and took turns carrying you on their backs. Your mother used to tease you that you would always be chasing after your brothers, for better or worse, and your brothers had laughed at that, back before your father’s displeasure at having to raise a daughter had poisoned their minds, too.

You clasp the necklace around your neck and press your hand to where the gem sits over your heart. For a moment, you can almost feel your mother’s heartbeat alongside your own- a lovely, warm flutter deep beneath the aching of your chest.

But it feels wrong. Like some hidden weakness was on display for the world to judge. And of course Astarion would be the type to judge. Pretentious asshole.

As you glance around the room, your gaze catches on the golden wedding band that had been sitting on your bedside since you had pulled it off after the wedding. It felt too tight where it had wrapped around your finger- a noose that threatened to strangle you. But you felt too naked without it, as if this momentous upheaval in your life needed to be marked on your body by a silly gold band.

Finally, it seems as if you have found a compromise. Carefully, you slide the green gem off the chain of the necklace and place the gemstone back inside the hollowed out book. Taking great care, you arrange the book on the shelf as inconspicuously as possible, hoping that no one else will find your little hiding spot.

You slip the wedding ring through the necklace chain, letting the cold circle of metal settle over your heart.

—-------

It doesn’t take long for you to get bored of your room- your curiosity urging you to explore the rest of the manner and overriding the dread of running into Astarion.

You last about three hours exploring before you catch sight of Astarion walking toward you in a hallway. When you see him, you debate turning around or ducking into a room to avoid him, but he’s already locked eyes with you, grinning like a cat that just found a new mouse to play with.

“What? No vicious insults to hurl at me this morning? I was almost looking forward to it,” he mocks as he blocks your path.

“Ah yes, polite and civilized, the first two adjectives anyone would use to describe you.” Astarion interrupts. “Certainly not obstinate and combative.”

His face is stern as he looks down at you and while the words themselves are a bit insulting, he says them with a hint of fondness that makes you think he might enjoy ‘obstinate and combative.’

“Well, you’re manipulative and arrogant!” You retort, crossing your arms over your chest. Admittedly, you are maybe not making the best argument against being called combative.

“So creative, darling. I’m sure no one else has ever dreamed of calling a vampire manipulative or arrogant,” Astarion says, arrogantly.

There’s an excited thrum in your veins, like when you had talked and danced with him at the ball. Apparently, it didn’t matter if you were competing with Astarion to see who could charm the other better or who could insult the other better- the battle of wits set your insides aflame.

“My lack of creativity has more to do with you being a garish caricature of your kind than any lack of vocabulary on my part.”

“Garish? That’s a new one. I’ve been accused of being many things, but my taste has never been in question before,” his voice has that low, suggestive quality and the way his eyes rake up and down your body implies that his tastes most certainly include you.

“Really?” you look around for dramatic effect, squinting to inspect the heavy curtains that block the sun, “Because I actually think what you need is some more cobwebs and skulls around here. Maybe some bats? I think that would really add to the macabre, haunted aura that an evil vampire lair needs.”

Astarion’s lip twitches up at the side, just a flash before he’s glowering down at you again, but it’s enough to know that you’d bested him.

Current score: 0-1, in your favor.

Except, okay, maybe Astarion did get a point because he managed to trick you into marrying him… You weren’t willing to give him more points for the whole butter knife debacle that it could probably be argued that you lost.

So, you’re now tied at 1. That gave you plenty of time to win whatever little game it was that Astarion was insisting on playing with you.

Astarion lets out a bored sigh, as if you had been the one blocking him and wasting his time in the hallway and not the reverse.

“As much as I would love to stand around all day and discuss your interior design visions, I have better things to do. Have a good day, dearest.”

You continue on with your exploration with a bit of a pep in your step at getting Astarion to almost crack a real smile. And when you realize that your run in with Astarion, of all people, might actually be the highlight of your day, you are plunged into a despair so great you feel as though you are drowning. How dare he be a bright spot in your life? Not when you had resolved to hate him forever.

But, you’re determined to make the best of a bad situation- especially now that you aren’t locked in your room anymore. Astarion is still manages to leave your head and your heart spinning every time you talk to him.

You must constantly remind yourself that his beauty is a trap- meant to take you off guard, meant for you to offer up your neck to him for a kiss, only to be surprised by the fangs that sink in instead. It is part of his game to repeat the act over and over, to charm you and beguile you as he did at the ball so that you forget the monster hiding underneath. You are not immune to this trap, but you are determined to outsmart it. Better to believe he is constantly tricking you than to foolishly succumb to his enchantments again.

You might be a bit fuzzy on remembering all the rules about vampires, but you’re pretty sure that they’re unable to go out into the sun. And based on the thick curtains that cover the windows during the day and the time that you saw Astarion nearly run away when a stray beam of sunlight had made its way through a crack in said curtains, you’re fairly certain that bit of lore is true.

To avoid him and the perplexing thoughts that inevitably follow interacting with him, you spend a lot of time in the gardens. It’s easier that way, separated from Astarion- where his beautiful face and sweet, insincere words can’t leave your mind spinning.

And because you’re still mad at him, some days you hope that he is able to look down on you and watch how the gentle warmth of the sun caresses your skin. You hope he’s seething with jealousy, pouting and stomping around like an angry child that the sun will get to touch you in a way he never will.

The servants don’t really bother you in the gardens. Shadowheart does stop by every couple hours to check in on you or bring you tea or food. Gale stops by sometimes, too, for a bit of conversation. Or rather, he talks at you for a bit. He seems to really like the sound of his own voice but he’s friendly enough, so you humor him.

Your favorite companion is Gale’s cat, Tara, who likes to curl up in the sunlight next to you or press her head into your hand when she would like to be pet.

It takes you a couple weeks to work up enough courage to finally squeak out anything more than a ‘hello’ when you pass the gardener, Halsin. At first, you were a bit scared of the giant, imposing man. But, it only took one or two short conversations before you realize that he’s a total sweetheart, incapable of insincerity or cruelty. The exact opposite of your husband.

A part of you wishes that perhaps you were married to Halsin, a man who is filled only with kindness down to his very soul. A man who wouldn’t leave his wife doubting where she stood, doubting the truth in every word he says.

You ask Halsin to teach you how to work in the gardens and you start joining him on his tasks some mornings.

Today, the sun sits high in the sky and the ribbon of your sunhat tickles your skin where it is tied under your chin. Alongside Halsin, you work on pruning the expansive collection of rose bushes. Every color you can imagine must be present in the garden and as you admire the blush pinks, sky blues, and variegated white that leads to lavender purple, Halsin points out the varieties with the silliest names.

“You have an uncanny talent for avoiding the thorns,” Halsin points out. His own careful hands are littered with little scratches and yours remain unmarked.

You scoff, remembering your first conversation with Astarion. “A rather unfortunate and useless talent of mine. Around here, I find it would be more useful to be adept at avoiding a vampire’s fangs.”

Halsin gives a deep chuckle at that and damn it if his mood isn’t infectious. In seemingly no time at all, he managed to erase the scowl from your face that was brought up at the thought of Astarion and had you giggling next to him.

“I believe we have eyes on us,” Halsin observes, an easy smile on his face as he looks up to a darkened window in the corner of the manor.

You only spare a quick glance. The window is dark and impossible to see through, surely coated with some special paint that allows Astarion to look outside without being burnt to a crisp by the sun. Although you cannot see him, you’re sure he is watching. Halsin gives a big wave that you imagine makes Astarion fume.

“My husband,” you hiss the word, so full of vitriol and anger, “has no say over how I choose to spend my time.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s very aware that you can’t be tamed,” Halsin laughs again, deep and with his whole chest. You were jealous of how easy laughter came to him, how he was able to find joy in everything when there was this angry bubble that had been nestled in your chest for so long, ready to explode at any moment.

“I’m sure you remind him at every opportunity. I bet he has his hands full with a wild thing like you.” Halsin continues.

“Wild?” You ask, with faux indignation. “I’ll have you know I’m a very polite, very civilized lady.”

“I highly doubt that many polite, civilized ladies would spend their day with their hands in the dirt,” Halsin teases, with his signature wide, friendly smile lighting up his face.

“It’s refreshing, being connected to the earth,” you drop the joking tone and speak honestly, letting your fingers brush against soft petals of the peach pink rose in front of you.

“I think the same,” Halsin agrees, continuing to snip away at the bush next to you.

“My father never would have approved of me doing this. It’s wonderful to finally spend my days doing the things I want to do.”

You hear your words as you say them. The realization sends you reeling that evening- that for the first time in your life, you might actually feel free.

But no, you rationalize to yourself, it’s not because of Astarion that you’re living this life. It’s in spite of him.

—------------

In between reading and working in the garden with Halsin, you continue to explore.

One day, you duck into a large room at the end of the western wing, shocked to discover the portrait gallery. The room is filled with dozens of portraits that all seem just a bit too old, with nearly all the paintings dating back centuries. How long had it been since the mighty House of Ancunins had thrived?

Walking through the room, you study the Ancunins represented on the canvases, looking for any hint of resemblance to Astarion. You tell yourself this is because you are trying to determine if he’s a true ‘Ancunin’ and not simply because you cannot help but compare everything in the world to Astarion’s beauty.

Since he was so secretive, you still hadn’t been able to discern if the rumors surrounding him were true- if he really was a bastard, or some rich man from a far off land who had bought the Ancunin name for himself, or simply the last remaining child of a dying legacy. If you could just figure out this little detail, it would do wonders to cracking the puzzle that was Astarion’s mind.

Some of the paintings do bear a faint resemblance to Astarion in their features- high cheekbones and sharp jawlines. But you remind yourself that those are common features and not convincing enough evidence to prove any of your theories.

Toward the back of the room, there’s a large painting that has been covered and it draws your attention. After you pull the tapestry aside, you discover a portrait of a family- with wide, happy smiles on all of their faces. The overwhelming sense of love that radiates from the painting takes you off guard for a moment. You were used to the portraits in your family home- all stern, cold faces staring back at you.

In the painting before you, the man stands tall and proud in the background, his light blonde hair curling around familiar high cheekbones. One of his hands rests on a woman’s shoulder, presumably his wife. She was stunning, perhaps the most beautiful woman you had ever seen with her long, pale hair and shimmering blue eyes that almost seemed to dance with life.

In the middle is a son, a boy no older than seven or eight, with gentle hands from both his parents resting on his shoulders. The boy seemed to inherit the best features from both of his parents- rich blue eyes and wild, curly white hair with a cherubic smile offset by youthful, plump cheeks.

It’s unmistakably Astarion.

It’s strange to think of him like that- as a boy and not the monster that you were forced to marry. What possible could have happened to this happy little boy to turn him into the man you know?

It’s undeniable that Astarion is truly an Ancunin, but this revelation just leaves you with even more questions. How did he become a vampire? How long had he been a vampire? What caused him to suddenly come home and reclaim his title?

You wander around the gallery a bit more. There’s more old portraits of nobles and families, Ancunins long since deceased, but you’ve grown bored of them after your discovery of young Astarion.

When you make your way back to the front, you find there’s also a new addition of Astarion, the version you were familiar with. He must have had it recently commissioned because the paint looks fresh, not cracked and faded by time.

And oh, how wonderfully the artist had managed to capture him- the diligently arranged curls, the danger that simmered beneath the surface of his blood red eyes, the familiar smirk on his lips. The breath is pulled from your lungs. It was as if he was sculpted by the gods themselves as a present for humanity. Surely, this man was the universe’s magnum opus.

As you inspect the painting, tracing the curve of Astarion’s pretty nose and the soft arch of his brow with your eyes, you recall how Astarion’s reflection had been missing in the mirror when he had pursued you the night of the ball. It dawns on you that this portrait is the only way that Astarion can see himself. The realization leaves you a profound melancholy.

“It’s quite a remarkable likeness, isn’t it?” Gale’s voice interrupts your thoughts as he comes to stand next to you. You try to make it seem like you weren’t so obviously gawking at Astarion’s painting but, as usual, Gale is already busy talking again. “I don’t think the Lord was quite as impressed with it as we are. I believe he said that he looked too old but I think he just doesn’t know how to appreciate fine art like you and I.”

Gale’s insight is rather humorous because out of everyone here, Astarion seems like the kind of pretentious snob who would love art.

“I can talk to him about organizing for you to have one done,” Gale offers.

“I’ve never sat for a portrait before,” you nervously admit aloud, continuing to stare ahead and trace the painted curls that frame Astarion’s portrait like a halo.

“But your family-” Gale starts but you raise a hand to cut him off. But your family is rich and cares about status so you must have sat for a portrait at some point. Gale, like many, didn’t understand the depth of your father’s apathy toward you.

“My father was rather eager to be rid of me. I don’t think he’d want a giant portrait to remind him of his failures in raising me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Gale’s mouth hanging open a bit and for the first time ever, he seems unsure how to respond. Nevertheless, he persists.

“Well, you’ll do wonderfully. It’s just a lot of sitting around and doing nothing,” Gale takes a moment to think. “Or- er- actually you might not do very well at that. You’re the type to get restless easily.”

You laugh. “I can sit just about anywhere if I’m given a book.”

“We can tie her down if we need to,” Astarion’s voice lilts in from over your shoulder, all deep and rich and making your bones turn mushy.

When you turn your head, you see him casually leaning against the doorway, as if he had just happened to run across you and Gale. Based on how hard he is trying to appear nonchalant, you doubt this is the case. More likely, he overheard your and Gale’s voices from his study down the hallway and couldn’t resist injecting himself into the conversation. Nosy vampire.

Pushing himself off the wall, Astarion comes to stand between you and Gale, who is now staring sheepishly down at his feet. There’s a sharp glint in Astarion’s eye that reminds you of a hound that’s tracking a scent. Singularly focused, solely devoted.

“And no books.” Astarion’s voice is still rich with flirtation as he reaches out a finger to trace it softly along your cheek. “The painter needs to be able to see that darling face of yours if he hopes to match even a fraction of your beauty.”

At this point, you know his words are meaningless, so why do they still leave your silly heart fluttering inside your chest?

“So, you aren’t opposed to the idea?” You ask, staring intently into Astarion’s eyes to truly gauge his reaction. He stares back, challenging you to be the one to back down first.

“Quite the opposite. A beauty like yours should be remembered forever,” he says, with that devilish grin you’ve grown accustomed to seeing. “And think of how good we’ll look up there next to one another.”

“I heard you don’t like your portrait,” you tease.

“Alas, my beauty cannot be captured on canvas alone.” Astarion finally turns away from your gaze to look at his own portrait. He sighs, forlornly, as if his beauty is some massive gift to the world (it is). After a few seconds, he wrinkles his nose, “Besides, I look much too old. There’s no way I have that many wrinkles.”

Gale shoots you an eye roll over Astarion’s shoulder and you hold back a smile. Honestly, you had forgotten he was there- too consumed in your own little world of bergamot and flaming red eyes and Astarion.

—--------------

The next day, you ask Shadowheart how she came to work for Astarion, hoping her insight will reveal even more pieces of the puzzle that is Astarion. Today’s snooping has given you an intimate peek into his mind and that you are familiar with bookends, Astarion the boy and Astarion the vampire, you just need to discover the story in between.

“The Lord has a habit of taking in strays,” she says with a grin that tells you she knows how unsatisfied you will be with her response. Of course, her answer had to be a riddle that leaves you with more questions than answers, like everything involving Astarion.

“Is no one here capable of giving me a straight answer?” you groan and Shadowheart laughs at you.

“Where’s the fun in that?” She playfully tugs on a strand of your hair that she’s pinning up for you. “I much prefer trying to watch you work it all out on your own.”

And even if Shadowheart won’t help you, you’re determined to figure Astarion out. And the best way to do that was to go straight to the source and investigate his study. Best case scenario, you find some secret diary that reveals all of Astarion’s secrets. Worst case scenario, you find out what kind of ink he prefers using.

When you hear Astarion’s soft footsteps move down the hallway, you spring into action. The door to the room is locked, which you had anticipated. Earlier, you had asked Shadowheart to pin your hair up this morning especially for this purpose. After a quick glance over your shoulder to ensure the coast is still clear, you slip a pin out of your hair and insert it into the lock, wiggling it around until you feel the satisfying click of the door.

You had only seen the room on your wedding night, when you had come to confront Astarion. It seems so much bigger without him. His presence always seems to take up so much space.

Knowing his desk will hold the most valuable information, you start there. It is filled with papers and books, but your eyes are immediately drawn to the maps. Picking one up, you feel the worn paper in your hands. The title in the top corner claims it is of the distant city, Baldur’s Gate. While you had never visited the city,, you had been raised on stories of the city as a child by your mother, who came from the Upper City to marry your father. Across the map, weird ‘X’s drawn on seemingly random locations in the city.

After you set the map back down, you pilfer through the other items on the desk, looking for some clue to decipher the markings on the maps. But, the rest of the loose pages on the desk are filled with legal jargon and cryptic notes about mysterious artifacts in looping, cursive handwriting. You should have guessed that Astarion would have beautiful, nearly calligraphic handwriting- he was meticulous about every aspect of his appearance and how others perceived him and it clearly extended to even little details like handwriting.

Apparently, Astarion was also a secret bookworm based on the piles of books on the edge of the desk. You skim the spines of the numerous books, which range from contract law to Balduran history to famous historical artifacts.

And underneath all the papers and books, there’s a single scrap of paper with an intricate drawing on it- a complicated series of circles and lines, with little patterns that look almost like letters, but not any that you would recognize. Captivated by the drawing, you hold it up to the candlelight, twisting and turning it in the hopes that it may decode the pattern’s secret meaning.

“What are you doing here?” Astarion asks, voice hard and tinted with anger.

You lower the paper to reveal his face, looking at you from the opposite side of the desk. You hadn’t even noticed him enter the room- perhaps a testament to his stealth or perhaps your senses were diminished while you were distracted by the strange drawing.

Oh, he’s mad. Almost as mad as you had seen him at the ball. His pretty brows are all pinched together and red eyes a blazing inferno.

Unsure how to explain yourself, you opt for silence. Astarion tuts in disapproval, practically ripping the drawing from your hand. As he moves to your side of the desk, he pushes you out of the way so he can sort the books back into neat little piles and tuck the papers away into the drawers of the desk. You catch sight of a leatherbound book in the top drawer before Astarion quickly locks it with a little gold key that is immediately slipped back into his pocket.

“The door was locked,” Astarion turns around to face you, sitting back against the desk with his arms crossed over his chest.

There’s only a foot or so of space between you but it’s too much and not enough at the same time.

“Was that supposed to stop me?”

Your response seems to amuse Astarion, who lets out a huff of laughter before he resumes studying you with narrowed, critical eyes, “And where did a little thing like you learn how to pick locks?”

“A bored little rich girl learns to do a lot of things to fill her time,” you shoot back at him.

“Oh, I bet you taught yourself how to do all sorts of things,” the smile he gives you is lecherous and your face heats at the implications. When you don’t rise to his taunts, Astarion rolls his eyes and drops the smile. “But sometimes, doors are locked for a reason.”

That was a low blow. You can feel your blood boiling beneath your skin. Though you had resolved yourself to hate Astarion forever, you had felt the two of you could grow to be civil with one another as of late. But, of course, he always had to nettle you and take it too far by bringing up the days he had kept you locked in your room like a prisoner. You still haven't forgiven him for that.

“Oh, I know all about your thoughts on locked doors,” you say, hoping the Astarion can feel your angry, burning gaze like sunlight against his skin.

“Well, if you would cooperate-” Astarion starts. Like you are the issue here.

“You mean, if I just did whatever you said regardless of my own thoughts and feelings,” you interrupt. “I will not let you break me and turn me into some little wife that obeys your every command. That is not who I am.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth again, darling.” Astarion sighs, before the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile. “And I’d so rather it be occupied with something else.”

He’s deflecting, you realize. Reverting back to flirtation and sexual innuendo in an attempt to either distract you or knock you off balance. This is his way of trying to gain control of the situation again. And based on the way his hands are gripping the edge of the desk he’s leaned against, white knuckled and nearly tight enough to crush the wood, he’s barely restraining himself.

You’ve hit a nerve. But why?

Astarion probably just didn’t like that you made a good point. Deciding to ignore Astarion’s comment, you continue on with your point.

“And what will you do if I don’t listen to you? Torture me? Kill me?” You retort and his lips curl up, baring his fangs slightly.

For a moment, you almost hope you’ve sent him over the edge and this time, he will rip your throat open. You would be dead, but for one glorious moment, you would feel his lips against your neck.

Or perhaps you could reach your hand out and prick the tip of your finger on his fang. Watch his pretty mouth close around your finger as he sucks at the drop of blood. No. You lock that image very far into the back of your mind. You didn’t need to be thinking silly thoughts like that.

“At the moment, death would be preferable to this miserable existence,” you say. Which isn’t totally true. You’ve actually really enjoyed your time here so far (with the exception of being imprisoned the first couple days). But Astarion just makes you so mad and you get to a point where you can’t control your anger, where hurtful words involuntarily spill their way out of you- a wonderful trait you inherited from your father.

“There are fates a lot worse than death,” Astarion looks unimpressed with your answer, something akin to melancholy clouding his crimson eyes.

His response surprises you, completely knocking the wind out of your sails. You’re so confused that you can’t even manage to be angry anymore.

Fates worse than death. What could he possibly mean by that?

“Yes, and being married to you is one of them,” you hiss at him, trying to get this argument back on track.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He takes a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking in a deep breath. Gone is the confidant Astarion you are used to. The man in front of you just seems tired and deflated.

But his words fester deep within you, sounding entirely too much like your father and the anger is bubbling in your chest again.

“Don’t condescend to me!”

“It’s not condescension if I’m simply speaking the truth, pet,” Astarion says, looking at you as if you are an ill-behaved child. It makes you want to stomp on his foot and storm out of the room.

“If anyone told me what was going on around here, I wouldn’t have resorted to breaking into your office in the first place! I’m the Lady of the manor, it’s disrespectful to keep things from me!”

“There is nothing going on here!” Astarion lies. He’s too quick with his response, too loud in his exclamation. You know when someone is deflecting. This argument was just going to continue to go in circles.

“I’m leaving,” you finally huff after staring Astarion down for a few seconds. You are sure to knock his shoulder with your own as you leave to let him know how displeased you are.

As you walk back to your room, you catch yourself absent-mindedly reaching out to touch your shoulder that had brushed Astarion. Foolish girl.

You spend the rest of your day in your room, trying to think what Astarion could be up to. It didn’t seem like he was involved in any rituals or sacrifices. Maybe shady business dealings? It’s not unheard of for nobles to be corrupt, paid off by wealthy criminals to ignore blatant lawlessness. Though, it seems weird that he cares so much about Baldur’s Gate…

“Lord Ancunin would like you to join him for dinner tonight,” Shadowheart interrupts your musings that evening when she pokes her head into your room.

You gape at her. After your spat earlier today, you wonder if perhaps this is his attempt at extending an olive branch or if dinner was simply an opportunity to extend the argument. Either way, the thought of sitting at the table with him causes your stomach to turn. And you hate that you aren’t sure whether it turns with delight or disgust.

“I decline,” you respond, moving to close the door, but Shadowheart’s hand whips out and forces it open. She’s so strong that it won’t close, even as you push your full body against it.

“Your refusal was anticipated and won’t be accepted. I’m here to help you get dressed.”

You know Shadowheart to be as stubborn as you and unwavering in her loyalty. While she was your lady’s maid, your friend, first and foremost, she still respected Astarion enough to listen to silly demands like this. At this point, you know her well enough to know that you’re going to end up at that dinner table no matter what you say.

It’s fairly reminiscent of your wedding day, how Shadowheart dresses you up and has to practically drag you to your seat.

“Wife,” Astarion greets you with a sweet, rehearsed smile. He looks stunning, his fair hair and skin practically glowing against the dark velvet of his suit coat. The rubies that serve as the buttons pale in comparison to his bright, sparkling red eyes. The thought faintly crosses your mind that Astarion is dressed in such finery as a way to impress you.

“Husband,” you nearly snarl back at him as you sit down in the chair that’s been pulled out for you. The dinner table is outrageously long, something used for large dinner parties, and Astarion sits at the head. You’ve been guided to the seat at his right. It must be some sort of power play that he’s chosen these as your seats for the night- a subtle reminder that he’s the one in control after you had dared to defy him earlier today.

“This is ridiculous, you don’t even eat dinner!” You cry out, noticing that Astarion didn’t even bother to have a place setting laid out for himself.

“I have plenty to drink,” Astarion points out, lifting his goblet. “It’s about spending time together as husband and wife, dearest.”

When you look down at your own place setting, you notice that the butter knife is missing.

“Very funny,” you say, unamused by Astarion’s antics.

“Well, given your history, I thought it best for my safety to remove any potential knives from the equation tonight,” Astarion grins at you from over the top of his goblet and you can tell he’s very pleased with himself at this little stunt.

“And I assume you mean to further disrespect me by not placing me at the other head of the table.”

“Hardly,” Astarion rolls his eyes. “I just thought it would be easier for us to talk if we weren’t shouting at each other from opposite ends of the room.”

“Perhaps I like to eat in silence,” you counter and he lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Always an argument. Must it always be a fight?” He sighs, but you think you detect a hint of amusement in his voice. “Has it ever occurred to you that I am trying to make your stay here more comfortable?”

You blink at him because no, you had never considered that. That doesn’t fit the Astarion you’ve concocted in your head- the cruel vampire lord who is controlling and manipulative.

He takes a moment to think, his mouth opening and closing a couple times before he finally says, “I know that you hold no affection for me, but I hope we can at least learn to coexist with one another.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, mind still reeling from this sudden confession that has completely shifted your entire view of Astarion, yet again. First, a handsome suitor, then a heartless monster and now… some combination of the two, a beautiful monster? A heartless suitor?

“You seem fond of the gardens,” he comments and it pulls you back to the night at the ball, when he had seen you gazing at them longingly over his shoulder while you danced.

He’s right, of course, you do love the gardens. Love checking for new blooms every day and plucking bouquets to bring up to your room. But, you hesitate to say another reason you love them is because Astarion can’t follow you out there. That there’s a false sense of freedom and safety in the light of day. A part of you is sure that Astarion already knows this. He somehow seems to know what you’re thinking before you even do.

When you don’t speak, he continues, his eyes flashing with something akin to jealousy, “You spend a lot of time with Halsin out there. “

Something like pride or satisfaction that he’s noticed and seems to care blooms within you. Though, you do feel the need to defend Halsin, who has been the consummate gentleman and one of the few people you consider a friend here beside Shadowheart.

And Tara, who is a cat.

And maybe Gale… though, you’re reluctant to admit that to yourself.

“Halsin has been nice to me. Which is more than I can say about you,” you shoot back at Astarion.

“Am I not being nice now?” He asks in a mocky, overly astonished voice, hands spreading wide in a dramatic flourish.

“Not at this exact moment, no.”

This back and forth feels more normal, more right. Not like the melancholy that had consumed Astarion earlier today.

No, you won’t let Astarion win this night by acting as the more mature person. You take a deep breath to calm yourself and eat a bite of the creamy soup that had been placed in front of you. Evidently, Astarion was committed to the knife bit and wasn’t planning to serve food that required you to use one. Which you do have to admit is at least marginally nicer than if he had served you with some meat that required lots of cutting.

While you continue to eat, you debate whether you should share a piece of information with him and see how he reacts, see if he’s willing to offer up a piece of information about himself in return. Astarion is the type to use everything you say against you, so you start small.

“I’m rather fond of walking. And I’ve always loved to read outside.” You say, catching how his face softens a bit at your revelation. “Though, I haven’t found any new books here, so I’ve been stuck rereading the ones I brought with me.”

“You like to read?” Astarion smiles lightly at you and you think that perhaps he might be trying to find common ground. Based on the number of books on his desk and packed into the bookshelves in his study, Astarion seemed to be a voracious reader, like yourself.

“Very much so,” you give him your own little smile in response.

“What kind of books do you like?” Astarion leans his chin in his hand as he looks at you, as if you’re the most fascinating person he’s ever met.

It seems ridiculous that you should be sitting at dinner with an evil vampire lord, talking about your favorite books. You still don’t feel like you know him well enough to admit to him your penchant for romance novels- that felt like the kind of detail he would tease you mercilessly about.

“Anything,” you say. It’s too overwhelming to have all Astarion’s attention focused on you, so you give Astarion a playful smile, “Though, I haven’t ever taken a crack at those legal books you seem to love so much.”

Astarion stiffens a bit at the mention of what you saw earlier in his office, but you are ultimately rewarded for your earlier attempt at civility because Astarion tells you, “I studied law when I was in school. But that was a long time ago… I have lots of catching up to do.”

While it’s a reasonable explanation, you don’t buy it. He did seem like the type to be a haughty, arrogant lawyer or magistrate, but you certainly don’t believe that he’s reading legal books just as a means to catch up. No, Astarion only did things that served his own interests- either he was in a bad contract and wanted out or he wanted to write a confusing contract to trap someone else.

Though his answer was vague, you do appreciate his willingness to open up to you a little bit. You’d have to keep giving bits of information about yourself to Astarion if it meant you found out more about him, in return. You spend the rest of the night asking each other questions, discovering likes and dislikes, finding things in common, and trading anecdotes.

Or, more accurately, Astarion tells grandiose tales that you’re certain are mostly exaggerated, but every now and then he drops the hint of truth.

And okay, yeah, some people might call that friendship- but for you, it’s a strategic interrogation of your enemy. Right?

—---------------

Early the next morning, just as the sun is beginning to rise, there’s a soft knock on your door.

You’re not sure who could be on the other side of the door. Shadowheart had already stopped by to help you dress this morning. Maybe Halsin was visiting to tell you he was going to town for the day and didn’t need help in the gardens? Or Gale had stopped by with a message from Astarion?

The last person you expected to see was Astarion himself, who seemed to be nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot as he waited for you to open the door.

“I wanted to catch you before you went out to the gardens for the day,” Astarion explains.

“Okay,” you narrow your eyes at him, suspicious of his motives. You had just reached some sort of… compromise with him last night, would he really betray you again so swiftly? You were inclined to think yes based on previous interactions.

“Come with me,” Astarion holds out his hand for you to take. “I have something I want to show you.”

Despite your suspicion, you take Astarion’s hand with your own and his skin where your palms touch, the normal human warmth missing. The whole thing feels strangely intimate. Astarion guides you to a wing of the manor you hadn’t yet explored and stops outside a set of twin doors. He doesn’t drop your hand as he turns to face you.

“If you’re so bored that you feel the need to break into empty rooms, I figured it’d be better to keep you busy,” Astarion says with a mischievous grin as he opens a door for you and guides you inside the room.

Inside is the largest, most extravagant library you’ve ever seen. You had feared that you’d grown used to opulence in your short time as Lady Ancunin, but you’re still stunned to silence at the sight. It would take lifetimes to read all the books in front of you. The bookshelves stretch to the ceiling and there’s even a second story beyond that. Beside you, you can feel Astarion’s eyes carefully studying your reaction as you stand with your mouth hanging open in shock.

“Last night, you mentioned that you had run out of books,” Astarion’s voice is so gentle when he speaks and your hand is holding onto his like a lifeline, as if he’s the only thing tethering you back to reality. You can feel tears brimming at the corners of your eyes.

“Thank you. I- ” you trail off, unsure of what to say. That this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you? That you’re overwhelmed by this emotion bubbling up inside you that you can’t name, or maybe are too scared of what it will mean if you do give it a name?

“I don’t even know where to start!” You say with an incredulous laugh, already overwhelmed with the prospect of finding a book in this maze.

Astarion gives a gentle tug on your hand and you follow after him to a bookshelf, where he reaches up to pluck a book off the shelf. You follow the long line of his arm as he reaches up, transfixed by the way he moves- always so graceful, as if every motion he makes is part of some dance that only he can hear the music to.

“Here, little flower,” he says, finally dropping your hand to pass the book to you. “One of my favorites.”

Little flower. Your heart skips happily in your chest.

And oh, he had offered up that piece of information so willingly, too. You hadn’t even had to give him anything in return except a watery smile. Surely, Astarion can hear the singing of your heart in your chest.

“I’ll never find the right words to thank you for this gift,” you tell him.

“Finally, then, I’ve figured out how to get you to stop talking.” Astarion teases, his hand reaching out to wipe away a stray tear that had fallen down your cheek. And oh, words are said with that soft smile on his face that makes you think that he means the exact opposite of what he’s saying. That suggests that maybe he likes how much you talk, how much you challenge him.

There’s a spark of either bravery or madness inside you as you lean up to press a kiss to Astarion’s cheek. His flawless skin is soft and cold underneath your lips.

“Thank you, husband. Truly.”

Astute as he is, you know he will notice that this is the first time you’ve called him husband without a layer of disgust or anger twisting the word. That this is the first time you’ve used it in earnest and not as an insult meant to wound him.

And truly, this is the first time that you could perhaps see him filling that role in your life someday. Even if whatever’s growing inside you right now doesn’t stick around, perhaps Astarion could grow to be… a friend? Perhaps this marriage truly was the first step in achieving freedom in your life, and not the prison you first saw it as.

For the first time, you wonder if Astarion doesn’t have some evil, hidden plot like you had first assumed. Perhaps you were so hurt by his initial trickery that you have misjudged him, have mistaken his kindness for manipulation.

Because, yes, Astarion might not have been the most gracious host at first, (i.e. locking you in a room and forcing you to marry him) but maybe he simply was a lonely man who ached for company, longed for someone to understand him and see the real person beneath his carefully constructed facade. You had felt so sure you knew him down to his very core, but perhaps you didn’t really know him at all.

No. You had been wrong about Astarion. You had been beguiled by his charms at the ball and had felt betrayed when you realized that you weren’t as special to him as he was to you and you had been lashing out at him ever since.

You aren’t sure if you can trust him yet, but maybe that will come with time.

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

Notes:

Thank you all so much for all the lovely comments and likes! It's so wonderful to know people are actually enjoying this story and I'm not just sending words out into the void every week lol.

Somehow, these chapters just keep getting longer and longer… The rough draft I have for chapter 5 is already 10k words and I'm nowhere near finished. Oops! Anyway, I'm not super in love with how this chapter shaped up, but I needed to transition us from point A (enemies) to point B (friendly-ish?) while also dropping some details that help set up the larger plot for the later chapters. Stick around and next Sunday we will be back to our regularly scheduled yearning!

As always, thanks to AliensNSuch on ao3 for beta-reading. She also posted some pretty cool art inspired by Chapter 1 of this story over on her tumlbr @vanillagorilala.

I'm also starting a taglist so please let me know if you'd like to be added to it!

Taglist: @ayselluna

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #x reader #til death do us part

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zaenaris · 10 months

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Thinking about how Tenjiku was extremely painful but important for Koko and Inupi’s development and sub plot.

It was the moment where the worst fears of both of them emerged in very dangerous moment.

Inupi feared that Koko saw him only as Akane’s substitute and Koko feared that Inupi was using him for his own interest - the gang and money, since he’s good at making it - like everyone else, having internalized and accepted it was the only way to make amend for Akane’s death and that it was the only thing he was good at and that people needed him for.

Take into consideration both of them was thinking of saving the other:

when Mucho and Sanzu ambushed them, Koko had no choice in joining Tenjiku to save Inupi -and Takemichi-, (and it's not that just because Kakucho says to Takemichi that Koko "chose to be in Tenjiku himself" , that's how it went: it's obvious Koko was coerced and tried to do the best he could to help Inupi and himself given the situation: he was alone, he couldn't fight the whole Tenjiku alone), while Inupi wanted to be in Toman, under Takemichi’s division, because he saw that Toman is similiar to the original Shin's BLACK DRAGON and because he knew they wouldn’t have been used anymore, Koko in particular since he’s the “money maker”.

But Koko was so used to that life and to not consider his own wishes that he never reconsidered joining Toman, it wasn't the safest option. Koko had no attachment to any gang in particular, he cared about Inupi and his money making activities, therefore as long as Inupi wanted him in a gang, he sticked with him (we saw in the last birthday pic that Wakui draws for Koko, that middle school koko made business with the haitanis before being in the 10th gen BD, he clearly had his own illegal side activities unrelated to gangs-of course being in a gang helped with his business and of course when he was one of the executives of BD, that gave him also power and protection, but Koko always did what he did alone, before being in any gang) ;

but that time Toman was weak, meanwhile Tenjiku, even if it was the opposite of the gang Inupi wanted to belong to, was the safest option and a situation more similar the the 10th generation Black Dragon, where violence and profits were the norm; so Koko negotiated a place for Inupi if he’d joined Tenjiku, thinking it was the safest option.

Meanwhile Inupi was willing to fight to finally be free from that world. I am always so sad that Inupi's trauma is always so overlook and never directly addressed in the manga (undirectly it was, I mean joining a gang it's not a thing that you generally do when everything is fine in your life). Because Inupi

was saved by Koko when he was looking for Akane - and Inupi knows it, that's were the fear of being just a substitute for Akane comes from

sees Koko being desperate about trying to save her and blaming himself when she died anyway

is aware that his parents have financial problems after loosing the house and ofc they're a mess for Akane

some of these facts are in headcanon territory, but how could have Inupi have felt after her death? of course we see him crying and sad, but he's aware he's alive "by chance". How did this conditioned him? did he felt he wasn't supposed to be there? that his parents and koko didn't love him enough and would have preferred her instead of him - canonically we kow Inupi doesn't go home often -ch.157- and so we can assume he has not the best relation ship with his parents, which is understandable after such a tragedy; we know Inupi is grateful that Koko always followed him -ch.142-, which is the same Koko felt about Inupi -ch.252., but was Inupi grateful to be alive at all or he himself would have preferred to die? and his relationship with his late sister? he cries, he grieves, but then what? is there a part of him that sees koko so desperate for akane that, in an irrational moment, would like to be on the receiving end of all koko's attentions? does he get a closure? probably he does, but it's off screen.

At this point of the story, -Tenjiku arc- Inupi understood Koko's behavior, when he tried to talk about the whole situation (in the previous arc,when he asked Koko if he was still thinking about "the promise") and Koko denied, he never insisted because he knew Koko wasn't ready yet. Maybe Inupi, probably for narrative reasons, or maybe because that's how he is as a person, or maybe for some other reason that Wakui didn't explain, somehow manage to arrive to a point of self awareness, but in that moment, it was a complete chaos, and the insecurities and the communication problems that Inupi and Koko always had emerged and couldn't be contained and escalated the way we witnessed.

Even if they had the other’s well being in mind, but all their deepest fears came out in the worst moment and that lead to their break-up.

**spoilers for the end of the arc and their sub plot resolution in the final arc under the cut**

But even after their fight they still wished the best to each other, showing their genuine care even after what happened, because in the end, Koko wanted to be with Inupi, it's his conscience in Akane's form that "frees" him and allows himself to follow his heart and to stay with Inupi forgiving himself for something that wasn't his fault❤️‍🩹

#tokyo revengers #inui seishu #kokonoi hajime #kokonui #inukoko #akane inui #tokyorev meta #zae talks about tr #tokyorev anime spoilers

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actual-changeling · 1 year

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if you do not follow/haven't seen my recent posts, i really recommend you read this one and this one before continuing, just to make it hit the right way.

also reminder that i have an ao3 right here (and it's not all pain, promise!)

sorry in advance :)

the more time passes, the easier it is for joel to talk about sarah. it still hurts, always will, an old bullet buried in his heart surrounded by scar tissue, but except for a few memories, words don't make him bleed anymore. tommy tentatively starts bringing her up once he notices that joel no longer flinches when he mentions her name, and it feels good to breathe life into their shared experiences, his brother the only one who comes close to understanding his pain but also the joy that colored their years.

ellie asks, too, just as hesitantly as tommy at first, but soon her curiosity takes over and not a day passes by without a question in-between sentences about his past. joel answers all of them, stories spilling from his lips and spinning themselves into a sarah-shaped web that he can share with her.

"she played soccer, right? when did she win her first competition?"

there's a few sports teams in jackson, and of course the soccer one caught her eye, making joel dread all the twisted ankles and bruised shins he was going to have to tend to. getting grass stains out of sarah's uniforms had always been a task and a half, and eventually they both stopped caring about it and just watched them pile up, turning white fabric a greenish-brown.

joel opens his mouth, the coffee cup in his hand hovering above the kitchen table, and then he stills, every muscle in his body turning to ice.

ellie's joel? is drowned out by the ringing in his hears, knuckles turning white and gripping the porcelain so tightly he can feel it crack in his palm, and he must have stopped breathing because his vision is growing fuzzy, black dots scurrying in his periphery.

joel lets the cup fall more than he sets it down, stomach turning, bile rising in his throat, because ellie asked him a question about sarah, his sarah, and he doesn't remember the answer.

it can't be, right? just a small gap in his memory, nothing big, it'll come back to him in an hour and he'll tell ellie about it later. but the panic squeezing his chest is real, terror slithering up his neck and curling around his ear whispering what else did you forget?

more than ever before, he tries to think back to all of it, from the first time he held her in his arms to the moment he buried her, and something odd happens to him when he finds that so much of it is. blurry. frayed at the edges, burned holes and white blotches obscuring important and unimportant details alike, memory an old role of film decomposing in the back of his mind.

the color of her baby blanket (blue, it had to be blue, he can't see), the first movie he watched with her, her favorite book in primary school, the way he did her hair on the first day of kindergarten, the friendship bracelets they made together, the posters on her wall, the dress she wore to her first dance (purple right? right?), memories surfacing as his panic cracks him open like an earthquake, and joel tries to cling to them, nails scratching at the parts that should be there but aren't until he tastes blood, desperation growing and growing because he is forgetting her.

"joel you're scaring the fuck out of me right now what's wrong?"

ellie's voice is distant, and he hates worrying her, hates the almost hysteric edge beneath it when she repeats herself, hands squeezing his shoulders, softly, first, then harder when he doesn't respond. all of the years that he didn't even know she existed, memories she has that he never will, all the firsts and buts and what ifs and failures that define a childhood, their innocent light fractured into vivid fantasies by the stained glass window of life. he has had all that and more with sarah, clung to it in the after to remind himself that she is real, that he is still a father even with his daughter buried by a nameless river.

it is all he has left of her, the childhood she never got to outgrow, and it's fading in a mind that has mourned her for longer than she got exist.

not for the first time, joel wishes he hadn't flinched, his brain worthless if it allowed sarah to fade away. without ellie bound to his heart, he would have tempted fate again for that alone.

"who hurt you" too many people to count and luckily tumblr lets me make it everyones problem

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angelicsatin · 3 months

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Kaneko Daisuke✩♬ ₊˚.| Ultimate Violinist

(art drawn by nuskakissa on fiverr)

Name: Kaneko Daisuke Age: 18-19 but during the events the killing game believes he is 16-17 Pronouns & Gender: Cis Male + He/Him Nationality: Japanese Romantic Interest: Byakuya Togami SHSL/Ultimate: Violinist Game: Trigger Happy Havoc Killing Game Status: Survivor Birthday: 31 of December | 12/31 Zodiac: Capricorn Personality Type: ENFJ Enneagram type: 2w3

Daisuke is fun to be around. He’s flirtatious, talkative, outgoing, and has a sense of warmth around him. He’s passionate, and ambitious and tends to obsess on his ultimate. Despite these traits, he’s complex. He’s arrogant and knows that he’s extremely talented. He refuses for anyone to deny him of that fact, especially with his parents not believing in him nor supporting him. He’s highly analytical and adaptable during the killing game. He’s loyal to Togami, and despite always getting on Byakuya’s nerves, Daisuke would stubbornly follow that man to the ends of the Earth.

Personality𝄢

Positive Traits: Warm, Outgoing, Caring, Analytical, Loyal, Ambitious, Adaptable, Talkative, Creative, Persuasive, Affectionate, Flirty, Passionate, Goofy, Self-Protective, Overprotective in General, Charismatic, Spontaneous, Playful, Just, Generous, Empathetic,

Negative Traits: Stubborn, Arrogant, Catty, Gossipy, Mischievous, Extravagant, Foolish at Times, Jealous, Judgemental, Melodramatic, Needy, Spoiled, Tactless Without Directions

Random Facts₊ ⊹

Born into a rich family

Has an older brother who is already working in the family business, preparing to take over the corporation.

Has a younger sister who is learning to be a lawyer already

Daisuke is the middle child

He was placed in music lessons at a young age

Whenever Daisuke plays violin he dances around, stomps, jumps, spins, etc to the sound and beat. Depending on the difficulty of his violin solo, if the song he’s playing has lyrics, he sings parts of it. (Shin Yechan from LUCY reference)

His voice is rougher than his swift playing, but it comes from his heart and passion.

Music was the first thing to make sense to him, and he excelled

Daisuke met Byakuya in music lessons as children officially. However, Byakuya’s father was already business acquaintances with Daisuke’s parents

(Byakuya has stated he has to be good at everything to become the togami heir. Even if he doesn't like music or talk often about it, I'm sure he's mastered at least one instrument to check the box)

Daisuke practiced day and night, & recomposed songs without violin parts to include them, and performed them for his teachers

Despite his unwavering talent and passion, his parents didn’t care much. They wanted him to be something practical.

If he wasn't going to be the heir, he needed to do something to bring their family name recognition and pride. They didn't understand that musicians are respected and can be well-known. They only went to orchestra performances where it's a group of musicians blending in with one another.

For a short time, Daisuke stopped playing the violin and tried desperately to study law. If he was a bigshot lawyer, they’d have to respect him. He learned and learned, but his heart ached and longed for his violin and a stage.

During a business ‘get together,’ 'ball,’ 'gala,’ whatever you wanna call it. Byakuya and Daisuke spent an evening together. Finding solace in one another, despite Byakuya belittling him. But Daisuke could see through the other’s rough exterior. If he really thought so little and despised him, he’d leave and speak to someone else. But Byakuya stayed.

His night with Byakuya helped him, more than Byakuya may ever realize. Byakuya, in his own way, encouraged Daisuke to do what he wanted. With Daisuke’s current family’s hierarchy system, there was no way he’d be heir, and sure respect is nice, but, Byakuya would respect his tenacity and boldness if he broke his family’s hold and did what he wanted.

After days of pondering over Byakuya’s words, he began practicing again. But this time something was different. He felt every note and movement of his hand throughout his whole body.

When Daisuke told his parents he didn't care about their opinions anymore, they scoffed at him and turned their noses. But before they could write him off, he swore to become the ultimate violinist. He swore he’d make his own path with his passion, not with their money, name, status, or control.

After his announcement, he started to change for the better. He was happier. He dyed his hair to his parent’s dismay, and tried harder to be himself. He stopped, well, stopping himself.

Finally, Daisuke was accepted into Hope’s Peak Academy as the super high school level violinist in the 78th class.

once he got the news he informed his family, and following that, Byakuya. Only to find out that Byakuya was accepted as well. Byakuya was proud of Daisuke, but barely showed it. Changing topic quickly after a small compliment to question him about the hair color change.

In his early years, he used the basic brown violin, but following the announcement to his parents he painted small doodles on it

Dyes his hair as often as he can but during the killing game his hair is red

Starting the 1st year of Hope’s Peak Academy

Automatically Daisuke was enthralled with his classmates, interested in their vastly different talents and upbringings. He spoke to everyone who’d give him the time of day. He was outgoing and got along well with almost everyone in class.

His favorite person to annoy was Byakuya though. Having him in the same class was just excuse after excuse to be around him more. Daisuke adored byakuya. He’d flirt with him overtly and bring him flowers as often as he could.

Byakuya always took the gifts but would question how the boy could afford to do this for him so often.

Byakuya often lent his card out to Daisuke so that he’d have enough money to eat after showering Byakuya (and Etsuko) with gifts once a week.

Byakuya was cold to Daisuke, especially in public. Barely reacted to the obnoxious flirting, aside from his cheeks turning a light shade of pink ever so often. However, he did appreciate everything Daisuke did for him. He loved seeing Daisuke smile, and knowing that he was safe. Byakuya’s mind would often travel back to how Daisuke was whenever they had met in music lessons, and during the gala in middle school. If he didn’t know better, he’d think there was no way they could be the same person. But Byakuya knew Daisuke surprisingly well, and the high school environment really gave Byakuya the chance to study the boy

Byakuya was never really sure how to feel whenever he saw Daisuke flirting with others or coming in disheveled as if he had just gotten it on in the janitor’s closet or something. He wasn’t excited about it, and he’d usually be even more distant than usual with Daisuke on days when that occurred. Daisuke would notice the change in demeanor, and it’d bother him but he continued to do what he wanted. Daisuke thought if it bothered Byakuya that much, then he’d say something. He waited and waited for Byakuya to say something.

Daisuke loved to play for Byakuya. Daisuke composed multiple arrangements specifically with Byakuya as his muse. Daisuke also prepared a song that both of them could play together. Byakuya on piano and Daisuke on the violin. Byakuya would always decline and just ask Daisuke to play for him while he read in the library or his personal study(or dorm)

Daisuke also became close with Leon Kuwata surprisingly. The two had similarities, they both liked fucking, and music. Daisuke helped Leon with reading sheet music despite the guy swearing he didn't need it for the guitar.

They did attempt to hook up but Leon changed his mind after they began to kiss. Daisuke respected him and they proceeded to still be friends, though a little more distant after a while

OC crossover - During the first year in Hope’s peak, after getting to become friends with everyone, Leon and Yasuhiro throw a party Med-party Daisuke exits and heads to the music room to practice since the party seems to be dying down now. While he’s playing Etsuko enters, and listens to him play before complimenting him. Some back-and-forth banter and casual flirting later, they're against the piano and on the floor.

Following this one-night stand, the two become even closer than just classmates. The two share inside jokes, and spend time together often. During times of stress and not knowing who else to turn to, they often lean on one another.

One day Daisuke is stressed and panicking, Etsuko suggests the two go for a swim to destress. However, one thing leads to another and they’re doing it again. This begins the start of their secret FWB dynamic.

While FWB they are still friends, and do all the normal friend things. They get closer and closer without even recognizing it and often have sex for both fun/pleasure and for comfort or to destress.

Eventually though, following a sweaty session, the two are making themselves appropriate for school. Daisuke looks down at Etsuko and suddenly realizes their closeness and bond that had formed. But his mind still traveled. He needed to get this off his chest. He tells her he likes someone else. She’s unphased and retorts with a simple “duh, me too.”

This revelation causes the two to slowly phase out the benefits from their friendship, and begin focusing on who they each have their heart set on. They stay close and still reference the shit they did and the fun they had in the many locations.

A month or two after the two had ended the sexual aspect of their friendship, Etsuko sadly transferred schools and moved away.

Etsuko is an OC belonging to @ scotkuya on instagram !! <3

After Etsuko’s Leaving

After Etusko left, Daisuke felt like that was the final push and sign for him to tell Byakuya how he felt. Even if he felt it was already obvious.

Daisuke invited Byakuya into the music room and nervously greeted him. Standing beside the classroom’s piano while holding onto his violin in one hand and sheet music in the other. As Byakuya approached him with a skeptical look, the shorter of the two extended the paper toward him. A song composed by Daisuke, for both Piano and Violin to be played together. The two would proceed to play together after a back-and-forth banter, and afterward, Daisuke would confess his feelings to Byakuya– Fully expecting to be turned down, laughed at, or questioned if he was joking or not. Instead, his feelings were surprisingly reciprocated. Leading to a proper conversation about the status of their relationship, or the potential for one past what was present.

Shipping Infoෆ

People in the ship: Kaneko Daisuke x Byakuya Togami (canon) Ship names: Baisuke, Kogami, Daikyuya, or Byasuke Relationship Status: Dating Age when they started dating: 16 Where they met: Musical Lessons when they were both young children, although they did not speak more than necessary to one another until a ‘charity gala’ they attended in middle school. This gala and the time they spend together at it help push Daisuke to continue to pursue music instead of dropping it for something ‘practical’ as his parents insisted. First Kiss: The music room at Hope’s Peak Academy First date: Byakuya took him out for an overpriced dinner, followed by attending a musical. That both of them thought could have been better— (bonus! Byakuya walked Daisuke back to his dorm before going back to his house off campus)

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oliverreedmasterass · 1 year

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Chapter Summary: Rae, Jake, Josh, and Sam head into the woods and Rae learns more about their motley crew.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: language, violence, mentions of death and blood

Notes: Thank you to @infinisonicosm for the fic idea!!

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At a pace similar to the one they had taken to get to the bar, they rushed towards the outskirts of the woods. Their trek was silent for the most part, except for a brief update from Sam that their dad was on his way to the mayor to try and sort things out. Rae should have enjoyed the silence on their journey over, because once they actually stepped foot into the woods, Jake and Josh were almost immediately at each other’s throats.

“We need to go this way,” Jake pointed to the east, where the trees looked especially sinister and dark. Rae stared in that direction and felt her stomach do a somersault in retaliation.

“Absolutely not,” Josh shook his head. “The woods go deeper to the west, we have a better shot at finding something in that direction.”

Rae turned her head in the opposite direction and felt even more dread wash over her. The west woods didn’t look any more inviting than what was in the east. She considered turning back to book it to her house, but after a deep breath to center herself, she tried to channel whatever bravery she had.

“You’re wrong,” Jake stopped in his tracks, glaring up ahead at Josh. That was enough to get Josh to whirl back around and grimace at Jake in frustration.

“I’m definitely not,” Josh countered. “Maybe get off your high horse for once.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jake spat back.

Josh let out a cold laugh. “A little self-awareness would do you some good.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

Before Rae could react, Jake and Josh’s hands were curled back up in their fighting positions. It was a relief that Sam stepped in between them this time around, before things got especially messy.

“I found Danny’s backpack in the west,” Sam’s voice was firm enough to break them apart. Josh reacted to that news with a celebratory whoop, followed by a pretty juicy raspberry directed towards Jake. Jake looked like he desperately wanted to dispute his younger brother, but instead gave in and let his shoulders slump in defeat. It wasn’t a battle worth fighting. That still didn’t stop him from shoving Josh to get to the front of the pack so he could lead them deeper into the woods. Josh gave Jake a firm push back, and Jake kicked his foot back, sending it into Josh’s shin. Josh keeled over with a yelp of pain and bared his fangs at Jake, who in turn cackled. This tipped Josh over the edge, since he lept forward and clung onto Jake’s back, tugging him to the ground.

“Stop it!” Rae called out in desperation as she tried to push the two tussling boys apart. The effort was entirely futile: no matter how much she tried, they found a way to return back to clawing and throwing punches at each other. It reached the point where it was becoming too much for Rae to handle, and they weren’t fighting to kill, it seemed more like they were both trying to get something out of their systems. Rae didn’t understand why they had to do that, but she decided to let them get it out, so she fell back in line with Sam.

“Have they always been like this?” she asked. It was still unclear to her why they seemed to hate each other so much. How much of a difference was there really between vampires and werewolves?

“You’re not gonna believe this, but they actually used to be best friends,” Sam said under his breath, so his brother and Josh wouldn’t hear him.

“No way,” Rae gaped back at Sam. She looked beyond him to Jake and Josh, who had started to roll around in the dirt, swiping at each other like feral animals. Sam followed her gaze and shook his head at the sight. It was obvious he was just as fed up as her with their feud.

“They were literally inseparable when they first met in elementary school,” Sam explained. He started to move his hand towards Rae like he did before to show her another memory, but Rae slapped it away.

“Sorry,” she was fast to apologize while Sam cradled his hand. “I didn’t like that the last time you did it. It was freaky.”

“Most people say that,” Sam sighed. “I guess it is a bit weird.”

“It’s…unique,” Rae tried to assure him. Sam snorted, and Rae quickly steered the conversation back towards Jake and Josh. “So they were best friends?”

“I mean, I was super little back then, but I remember when Josh first moved to Frankenmuth, they immediately gravitated towards each other. It was like you couldn’t keep them apart. Well, until my dad found out.”

“You son of a bitch!” Jake cursed beyond them as Josh grabbed a handful of his long hair and started to tug on it.

“Don’t call my mom a bitch!” Josh hollered back, and gave a hefty yank on Jake’s hair.

“He was furious,” Sam continued on, as if nothing was happening in front of them. “I’d never seen him like that before. It was like smoke was pouring out from his ears. He brought Jake and I together and told us we had to stay away from the vampires. They took our mom.”

“Shit,” Rae whispered.

“Jake confronted Josh about it and their argument blew up into this big thing that neither of them have ever gotten over.”

“OW!” Josh screamed. “HE BIT ME!”

That, apparently, was Sam’s breaking point.

“JAKE!” he shouted, powering to Jake’s side. “You know we’re not supposed to bite people! It’s in our code of conduct!”

“Code of conduct my ass,” Jake barked back. Fortunately, though, Sam’s scolding was enough to break the two apart. They moved away from each other, Josh cradling his wounded arm, while Jake clawed at his tongue to get rid of Josh’s germs.

“You two are ridiculous,” Sam shook his head, looking more dejected than upset.

Josh’s phone buzzed, and he gave it a quick glance.

“Our parents are talking to the mayor now.”

“We need to remember what’s important here,” Rae reminded them all. “Set aside your differences, suck it up, and let’s work together to find Sam’s friend.”

“Danny,” Sam quietly interjected.

“Right, Danny,” Rae gave Sam a nod with a sympathetic smile.

“Nice motivational speech, Rae,” Jake said as he patted her on the back. It was hard to tell if he was joking around or being condescending. He took the lead and they made their way deeper into the trees.

They scoured around in silence for what felt like hours, Sam and Jake sniffing the perimeter while Josh and Rae scanned up in the trees for anything. The woods felt barren, which was almost more unnerving to Rae. It was like every creature around them was hiding from something they didn’t know about. Rae wanted to get a better sense of what they might be up against, so she tapped Josh on the shoulder.

“Hm?” he asked with a jump. Rae had a feeling he had been caught up thinking about something and consequently forgot that he had company. “What’s up?” He raised an eyebrow after collecting himself.

“I’m sorry, this is a stupid question -” Rae started, but Josh cut her off.

“Nope, no such thing as a stupid question.”

“Okay, well, are there any other, uh, creatures that exist alongside vampires and werewolves?”

“Actually, Bigfoot is real.”

“Are you serious?” Rae paled. If that was what was taking people in the woods, Rae was ready to throw in the towel. She had done enough to help.

“No,” Josh let out an infectious laugh. “Sorry, I had to pull your leg a little bit.” Rae gave him a playful shove which brought along more giggles. From across the clearing, Jake took a pause from his tracking to see what the commotion was about, saw Josh and Rae, and shook his head, redirecting his attention back to his search. “Aside from Bigfoot, just about everything you grew up hearing about in fairytales and shit is out there.”

“Ghosts?”

“Yup.”

“Fairies?”

“Absolutely. They’re kinda assholes.”

“Leprechauns?”

“Those fuckers can kick hard.”

“Do you have any floating theories about what’s taking people out here?”

“I don’t know if you want the answer to that question.”

“Trust me, I do.”

Josh gave Rae an amused look and shook his head, trying to think of the best way to respond to her question. He leaned up against an exceptionally large balsam fir and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m sure it’s something that’s been hiding for decades, if not centuries. For as young as he is, Sam has a wealth of knowledge. If he doesn’t know what the hell he’s smelling on that bag, it’s gotta be something beyond our comprehension. I’ve only ever heard stories about wendigos, but that’s what I’m going with.”

“Great,” was all Rae could think to say. She had heard tales about wendigos when she was younger, and always got spooked by the thought of greedy humans transforming into a monster so bloodthirsty and completely removed from any ounce of humanity.

“They have a shield of ice around their hearts, so they’re especially hard to kill,” Josh continued to explain. “You have to weaken them before you can get the job fully done.”

“Do you think that’s in our wheelhouse?”

“I’d like to think we’d have some luck on our side that could help us out.”

“You don’t sound optimistic.”

“I’m trying to avoid thinking about it too much.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Have you guys found anything?” Jake asked, rejoining their side. He was caked in sweat and had his brows furrowed.

“Literally nothing,” Josh reported back in a monotone voice.

“I bet we went the wrong way,” Jake grumbled to himself.

Josh’s phone buzzed, saving them from another heated argument, and he checked his notification.

“It’s not going well with the mayor,” he reported.

“Fuckin asshole,” Jake threw up his hands. He stomped away and dropped himself on a wide stump sitting in a patch of grass and wildflowers under the canopy tall firs nearby. In the distance, Sam was still searching around in desperation, hoping to find even a crumb of evidence about Danny’s whereabouts. To Rae’s surprise, Josh made his way out to Sam and started to talk with him about something that was out of earshot. She planned to move closer to figure out what was going on, but Jake spoke from his stump.

“I feel like there’s no way this is going to end well,” he mumbled just loud enough for Rae to hear. She let out a small sigh and took a seat beside him on the stump, their bodies close together.

“That’s the spirit, bud,” she told him. She wasn’t the best at cheering people up - Morgan was always giving her a hard time that she was too sarcastic to be any comfort. To her relief, her comment did get a small smile out of Jake, and he had a twinkle in his eyes as they looked at each other.

“I’m sorry for bringing you into all of this shit.”

“I’m sorry for all the shit you’ve been through. You’ve been dealt one hell of a hand in this lifetime.”

“No kidding,” Jake blew out some air. “Same for you though.”

“You suck it up and power through,” Rae shrugged. That was her mantra, and it had worked pretty well for her so far.

“Well, Josh is the one who sucks things up,” Jake mumbled. He blushed as he made eye contact with Rae and gave a goofy grin. “Vampire joke, sorry.”

Rae scrunched up her face, which made Jake’s grin widen.

“That’s an awful joke.”

“I’ll be here all week,” Jake bumped shoulders with her. They let silence sit between them for a while, watching as Josh and Sam engaged in some kind of energetic conversation in the distance. The air felt like it hung heavy in their air, as if Rae could cut through it with a knife. She wiped some perspiration from her brow and wished for a gust of wind to bring them some relief, though she knew it would never come.

She watched Jake out of the corner of her eye. His brows were scrunched as he stared down at his feet in the dirt, not bothering to blink once. Rae wondered what he was thinking about, and then was haunted by the vision Sam had shared with her earlier. Jake had an innocent man’s blood on his hands. Granted, he hadn’t been the one to directly do it, but she knew that he carried the burden of knowing his mistake had cost someone their life. She wondered what it was like to go home every day to a man who had orchestrated that murder. Did Jake think his dad had done the right thing? Or did it keep him up at night? Did he have to tell himself lies to make him feel better?

She caught a glimpse of him again and grew concerned when she saw that a couple of tears were sprouting from the corners of his eyes. She purposefully turned her head away from him to give him space to wipe his eyes clear, but then slowly offered out her hand for him to take. She wasn’t looking at him, but she had a feeling there was a look of shock sprawled across his face. Eventually he gently took her hand and gave it a light squeeze. So maybe Rae could comfort people if she really cared.

She looked around, still avoiding eye contact with Jake, and frowned at something that was laying just beyond a tree a few yards away, partially shielded by an impressive amount of dried pine needles.

“Your hand is soft,” Jake awkwardly commented, sounding infinitely more calm than when Rae had first joined him.

“Jake,” Rae whispered back, her eyes still glued on the thing. “I think I found something.”

Their eyes finally met, both wide. Rae released her hand from Jake’s grip and used it to point at the pine needle pile. Jake took in a few deep sniffs, which was something Rae was still getting used to, and jumped to his feet.

“Danny,” his voice warbled with emotion. Rae ran behind him as he sprinted towards the tree that seemed to extend into oblivion in the sky. How she was able to see the small square of fabric tucked underneath the pine needles, Rae had no clue, but Jake threw himself into the pile and began to dig, throwing foliage behind him in huge clouds of dirt. Once the dust settled, they stared in awe.

It was a University of Michigan hoodie that had at one point been light gray, but now was dirtied brown from the ground. Jake studied the jacket first in disbelief, and then sadness.

“I wonder how far away his backpack was from here?” Rae asked as she took in the jacket. It looked in rough shape, like Danny had been dragged and thrown around in it. There were tears in the sleeves, and the hood was entirely missing. Jake tucked his hand carefully into the front pockets and shook his head.

“Nothing in there,” he reported. With a sigh he stood back up from his squat, carrying Danny’s jacket up with him and holding it out so he could look at its front. Rae saw the back of the jacket and let out a sharp gasp. “What is it?” Jake looked around in a panic.

“The back of the jacket,” was all Rae could get out. Jake turned the jacket around and his face immediately dropped.

Written in blood on the back of the jacket were five words:

GET ME OUT OF HERE

****

Taglist: @lvnterninthenight, @writingcold, @myownparadise96, @i-choose-the-road, @psychedelicsprinkles, @mama-likes72, @ascendingtothestarssasone

#gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #gvf fanfiction #gvf fic #gvf fanfic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fic #the frozen light #gvf vampire au #gvf werewolf au

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satans-helper · 1 year

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Touch Me & You'll Never Be Alone - Part III

No matter how much heartbreak the Kiszkas go through, there’s one person who is always there for them, who’s never going to leave.

Part III - I Keep Him Forever

Read Part I here / Read Part II here / or on AO3 / wattpad

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~4100

Warnings: SLASH (don’t like it, don’t read it!), dirty talking, oral sex, fingering, rimming, unprotected sex (did someone say "bottom Danny??") 18+ ONLY.

A/N: I mean, it's Sanny...you already know <3

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Sam was not used to being broken up with. He wasn’t used to being in relationships long enough for that to even be an option, but here he was, completely out of sorts, emotions charged and every word in his mind jagged and scattered around because he’d been dumped. The audacity! The sheer, absurd audacity of anyone to think they could discard him, Sam fucking Kiszka, like trash! It was unfathomable as far as he was concerned and yet–yet it had happened.

Quite frankly, Sam didn’t know what to do with himself. At least his girlfriend had had the decency to save this news until they had a break in the tour, but that almost seemed worse–instead of getting all of the physical needs out during shows and the relief of being immersed in musical, transcendent catharsis, Sam was left to fend for himself. Mostly. Because also as far as he was concerned, Jake and Josh were useless, and Danny, after numerous unsuccessful attempts at building Sam’s ego up, was spending more time away from him. And through his mental turmoil, Sam could understand why. Danny had never seen him like this. But whether Danny or Sam liked it or not, they still lived together and Danny had to bear the brunt of Sam’s feverish emotions–the relentless shit-talking, the raging outbursts both verbal and physical, the bouts of tears that Sam wasn’t even sure the source of and that he tried desperately to hide.

But he knew Danny saw. Danny saw it all, ever-watchful though apprehensive and his nature, Sam knew, urged him to try and provide comfort any way possible. But Sam couldn’t find that in what Danny kept offering–drinks, joints, bowls, bongs, hugs, even the occasional, silly kiss.

While they were both high as a kite, lounging on the couch with the remnants of a joint stamped out on the table between them, Danny abruptly lunged over to Sam and got him in a loose headlock.

Sam grunted and flailed, trying to get Danny off him, but even a loose hold of Danny’s was quite a strong one. “Get off!”

Danny only laughed, that extra loud, snorting stoned laugh. “Cheer up, Sam! It’s been like, two weeks already.” When Sam successfully shoved him, Danny broke away with a huff, then another laugh. “I’m sick of the bullshit. You’re Sam rock-god Kiszka–you don’t get your heart broken.”

“My heart isn’t broken,” Sam said, rolling his eyes and kicking Danny away with one foot. “I’m not in fucking middle school.”

Danny sighed, head propped up in his hand, elbow on the back of the couch. “Everyone gets their heart broken, Sammy. But not everyone reacts to it like you do.”

“If it bothers you so much,” Sam began, stretching his legs across Danny’s lap. “You’re more than free to leave, Daniel.”

“I don’t think I should leave you unsupervised. You might burn the house down.” Danny patted Sam’s shins before lifting them off himself, getting on his feet. “I need to take a shower. Will you be alright if I leave you alone for, oh, I don’t know, fifteen minutes?”

Sam huffed, curling his legs up onto the couch. “I can’t promise not to start any fires.”

Danny stretched in front of Sam, exposing a generous strip of tan belly and dark hair. “Then I’ll make it ten minutes.”

Just that brief sight was enough to make something rouse in Sam’s own belly–not rage, not vengeance, not sadness, not confusion. Definitely not confusion. Danny was the clearest thing in Sam’s life. Always open and honest, he was as clear as a cloudless dawn, and Sam valued his friendship and companionship above all others. So while Danny was showering, Sam was trying to think of how he could smother himself in that clarity, ultimately deciding that an ambush was best.

Sam waited outside the bathroom, tapping his foot against the floor, tapping the wall behind him with his fingertips. It wasn’t impatience that had him so fidgety and losing the lull of his high–it was nerves and that was a bit of a foreign experience as well. The last time he’d been so nervous to make a move on Danny was the first time it’d ever happened, but since then Sam had felt a constant assurance that if something else happened between them again, which it semi-frequently did, all would be well and Danny would always love him. He still knew that now, stalking his best friend outside the bathroom, but the guilt of his motivation began to creep up on him. Their past liaisons had been so organic. Now, Sam was questioning if he was just being selfish and wanting to use Danny as the ultimate distraction or, worse, the ultimate way to get his physical needs of total release out.

But the sight of Danny stepping out from behind that door in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist made Sam ultimately not give a fuck. He rushed forward and collided with him, body-slamming Danny back against the wall, hands yanking his wrists up over his head and pinned his knee between Danny’s legs. Danny grunted at the collision but didn’t try to fight Sam’s grip on him which was–well, interesting, Sam thought. The utter surprise of his strategy and probably Danny still being so stoned seemed to have slowed him down, putting him in more of a freeze mode than fight mode.

Now that Sam had Danny where he wanted though, he wasn’t sure what to say or what to do. In the silent few seconds of his mental struggle, Danny intercepted by simply asking, “Are we fighting or fucking?” and with that, Sam released his hold on Danny’s wrists and kissed him with all the fury he had left in his body. It was hot and forceful, more so than any other time they’d shared a first and next kiss, but as soon as it began, Sam could feel how badly he needed more, and not just with anyone–with Danny, who he was lucky enough to have unexpectedly wanton in his arms and pulling his own damp towel aside.

Fully clothed, Sam pressed his whole long, extra-lean body against Danny’s bare one. Danny was evidently trying to slow him down with softer, more languid kisses, but Sam was having none of it–his tongue slid into Danny’s mouth harshly and his best friend groaned, big hands gripping Sam’s denim-clad hips to just hold him still, which Sam also fought against. He needed to move. He writhed against him, grinding his crotch against Danny’s vulnerable and growing erection, getting hungrier by the second.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Danny complained, shoving Sam away, looking down at himself. “You’re gonna rub my dick raw.”

“No, I’m not,” Sam protested, teeth gnashing as he lunged for Danny’s neck, his hands jutting down below to grab his cock. But his dry hands proved not to be any better and Danny hissed, hips wiggling against the wall in discomfort.

“Goddammit, Sam, if we’re gonna do this, can we do it right?” Danny asked, grabbing a fistful of long, silky chestnut hair.

“Fine. I wanna fuck you,” Sam said between pointed bites to Danny’s neck and shoulder. Everything about his coveted drummer was exhilarating and intoxicating even while sober, but Sam’s stoned, vulnerable brain was finding Danny even more alluring–so warm, skin so soft, muscles so hard, so strong. He could feel that strength resisting, Danny’s hands gripping Sam’s arms as Sam sunk his teeth into his shoulder, so before he could lose the upper hand, Sam grabbed Danny’s waist and pivoted him around, face pressed against the wall.

He then found himself lost in the vast expanse of the golden-bronze perfection at his fingertips–he traced delicate lines down and around Danny’s shoulders, the center of his back, down to the slight dip between his hips. When Sam pressed his mouth between Danny’s shoulder blades, dark, damp curls clinging to his forehead as they spilled over those sturdy shoulders, he wanted to get lost. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered with girls these days. Danny gave him everything he wanted–attention, affection, affirmation, excitement, companionship, creative fuel and collaboration and, yeah, even sometimes, sex.

Danny’s hips bucked and he let out a rough sound of surprise when Sam dropped to his knees and brought his teeth back into play. He bit into the meat of Danny’s ass, kneading the other cheek with his hand; he was getting hard in his jeans, his erection quickly stiffening hard and uncomfortable against the zipper. He’d gone commando–why not?--and was glad he had, because it was so much easier just to undo his fly and whip himself out. He jerked himself off and spread Danny open with his free hand. There was no more time to waste–his tongue made a fierce journey downward, licking over Danny’s rim to his balls, spending extra time tonguing those until those solid thighs were trembling.

Sam was about to insist that Danny touch himself too, but his friend took that initiative all on his own, wrapping a hand around his cock while Sam worked his way back up, mouthing at him like Danny was a piece of ripe fruit. And perhaps Sam’s appetite was stronger than he’d even realized, because he was surprised at his own gusto during this act–he seldom did this for Danny, not because he didn’t want to but because he usually assumed Danny didn’t want it, and now he was literally drooling. Spit streamed down his chin and around Danny’s rim; Sam licked harder, deeper, getting him wet, making Danny moan softly, but when he tried to add a finger, Danny jolted and reached back to grab Sam’s hair.

“I’m gonna need more lubrication than that,” he said, and Sam’s dick twitched at how rough Danny’s voice already sounded.

“So you wanna fuck?” Sam asked, teeth finding Danny’s flesh once more. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Seems like that’s what you want.”

Sam bit again, harder, and Danny yelped. “No, I wanna hear that you want me to, Danny.”

“I do,” Danny said, tenderly running his fingers through Sam’s hair. “I always want that.”

Sam stood up and pressed himself against Danny’s back, his cock rubbing against his ass. “God, you’re so hot,” he muttered, face in the curtain of dark curls. “You’re all mine, right?”

The split-second of hesitation wasn’t lost on Sam, but he didn’t have the mental capacity to analyze it now. “Yeah, Sam. All yours all the time.”

Danny was the one to lead the way to Sam’s bedroom, pushing him along while keeping their mouths locked in a series of haphazard kisses. Sam managed to kick himself out of his jeans while Danny pulled his shirt off, then Sam was shoved backwards onto the bed and Danny was climbing over him, so strong and beautiful that Sam felt something deep in his stomach ache even harder than his dick.

Kisses moved from his lips to his neck and Sam sighed, closing his eyes and allowing Danny to whisk him away into his perfect fantasy world. Danny spent what felt like considerable time there, nurturing Sam’s neck and throat with soft kisses that made him begin to whine; Sam’s hands tangled in Danny’s hair when that talented mouth kept moving down, making a detour at Sam’s chest to nip at his skin and lick his nipples, all while Danny gently ground himself on his thigh. Sam’s belly was quivering by the time Danny got that far and his cock was weeping and twitching even before it was swallowed.

“God fucking damn it, Daniel,” Sam burst out raggedly, his limbs thrashing until Danny pinned his legs down and Sam steadied his hands in his hair. Sometimes Sam selfishly hoped that he’d be the only one to ever know how intuitively good Danny’s blowjob skills were–this was one of those times. He laid back and let his beautiful best friend carry on, those soft lips mouthing at his shaft between long, teasing licks all the way up, then back down. One hard flick against the head and then Danny was sinking back down; Sam’s hips bucked hard at the tight, wet sensation of tongue and throat around him.

Danny gagged and pressed Sam’s hips down with both hands, but the contraction only made Sam’s body convulse again. He was moaning and breathing hard, uninhibited, lost in the most intense pleasure someone could experience, exhaling praise until he must have pulled too hard on Danny’s damp hair.

“Okay, whoa,” Danny remarked, resorting to jerking Sam off. Sam looked down, worried he’d actually caused a real offense, but then Danny laughed. “Can’t stay still for me for one minute, Sammy?

Sam threw his head and arms back. “Please keep going. I’ll try to be good.”

Another chuckle–this time, a dangerous sounding one which made a whimper catch in Sam’s throat. He was so whipped and again beginning to wonder why he even tried to make it with anyone else. Danny never let him down in any way, ever.

“Will you really?” Danny asked, to which Sam nodded and reached back down to stroke those curls as best he could. Danny seemed satisfied. He stroked Sam easily, spit and precum giving just the right grip and momentum, and Sam looked back down again to watch Danny’s face disappear between his legs.

“Oh my fucking god, Danny,” Sam eeked out, thighs twitching as Danny sucked on his balls.

“You wanna finish getting me ready?” Danny asked, bringing his mouth to Sam’s inner thigh.

“Sure, fine, fuck,” Sam answered, scrambling to sit up, hauling Danny up with him. He roped Danny into a deep but hurried kiss, trying to catch his breath before he pushed him off to the side, rolling him onto his back. Sam was just making his way down when Danny raised his eyebrows and gave a pointed look; Sam paused for a second, then groaned and shot up from the bed. “Lube. Yeah. Got it.”

“Thank you,” Danny said, and when Sam successfully retrieved the bottle and was returning to the bed, he could see the smirk on his drummer’s face.

“You look like that now,” Sam remarked, pushing Danny’s legs apart and crawling between them. “But I’m gonna make you scream, Daniel.”

“We’ll see,” Danny said, but whatever doubt he held wasn’t something Sam was worried about. He was geared up now, rock hard and burning with lust and love that only this one person could set alight for him. He was sure Danny felt the same even if neither of them said it in such explicit terms.

Sam began by squirting a generous glob of lube on Danny’s cock and it twitched when the cold goo made contact, which made Sam smirk in turn; he took its weight in his hand, stroking slowly a few times, which made Danny’s cheeks flare and his eyelashes briefly flutter. Encouraged even more, Sam took his newly wet hand down and wet Danny’s rim, circling gently while he stroked his cock with the other hand, watching for another reaction. Danny didn’t disappoint–on the next upward stroke, when Sam’s palm smothered the head of his cock, Sam watched Danny’s fingers grip the sheets tight. At that, Sam moved ahead with one finger, the resistance not as harsh as he expected. Danny was breathing evenly, evidently quite relaxed despite the unusual act, and his eyes were locked on Sam’s.

“Not screaming yet,” Sam remarked, giving Danny a second finger and bringing his left hand back to himself to bring some much-needed relief. Although Danny was not screaming, he was breathing harder now and he’d brought his hands up over his head to grip the pillows. Sam was sure it was as uncomfortable as it felt good; he returned his hand to Danny’s erection, stroking while he moved his fingers below to shallowly thrust. Danny was still too quiet for Sam’s liking when he added a third finger; Sam could tell he was holding back, his chest visibly tight now and cheeks even redder, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Sam slunk up Danny’s body, keeping his fingers inside, licking one long trail up his hip and torso until he got to his mouth. Danny’s hands threaded through Sam’s hair, pulling him in to begin kissing his lips and Sam smiled a little before giving him some room, and letting Danny take the lead there and slide their tongues together, manipulating the positioning of Sam’s face and sliding one hand down to rest around his neck.

“Ready?” Sam asked.

Danny leaned back against the pillows. “As I’ll ever be.”

Sam kissed him again before moving back down, slowly pulling out his fingers while he sat on his knees between Danny’s legs. He ran his hands up those thighs, looking over his best friend. “I know from behind is probably easier,” he said, looking up and into Danny’s curious eyes. “But I wanna see your face while I fuck you.”

That flush returned to Danny’s cheeks. “Whatever you want, Sam.”

Sam reached over him, grabbing one of the pillows from beneath Danny’s head. “I love when you say that.” He brought that pillow down, tapping Danny on the leg so he’d lift his hips; he did and Sam propped him up, his own dick twitching with anticipation. He grabbed the lube and slathered himself up, pushing one of Danny’s legs back as he inched forward, Sam teasing Danny’s rim with the tip of his cock. “Tell me what you like.” He didn’t even necessarily want dirty talk–Sam felt that he needed reassurance more than anything. Reassurance that what they were doing was okay; that how Sam had started it was okay; that no matter what happened, they would have each other. That they belonged to each other.

As Sam hovered over him, slowly sliding in, Danny’s hands held onto those skinny forearms. “I like you,” he said, and Sam looked up again to see Danny wince. He pushed forward a little harder–neither of them needed that initial breach prolonged, Danny especially. Danny’s grip on him tightened and he groaned softly before he added, “In fact–in fact, I love you Sam. Always have.”

Sam traded Danny’s leg for his cock. “Yeah? You do?” The question came out more teasing than he’d intended. He pushed forward again, working them both through the thick of it and into Sam’s own personal bliss, at least–he began to jerk Danny off to get him there too.

“Idiot,” Danny said with a grunt, still holding Sam in a death grip. “You know I do. Now fuck me already.”

Sam snorted and shoved his hips forward, quickly working up to a steady, snapping pace. “Fine. You asked for it.” He kept his hand stroking Danny’s cock steadily while he kept looking at his face, studying his features. So much had changed since they were young–the shy, awkward, fumbling boy was still there. Sam saw him so frequently and each time he did, he felt his heart clench; Sam had retained his own ridiculous penchant for chaos and silliness, but these days it was so weird to have it made public. He loved it–they all did–but sometimes Sam wanted all of it all to himself. He wanted Danny to himself, and realizing that in its totality as he was fucking him felt like a little too much to handle.

“Oh god,” Sam moaned, already out of breath and sweating too much for comfort. In the second he closed his eyes, he felt Danny pulling him down and stealing his breath away even more as he kissed him hard. Sam had to let go of Danny’s cock but his best friend took that over, squeezing his arm between them to jerk himself off, his knuckles grating against Sam’s stomach, while Sam buried his hands in Danny’s hair.

“That’s really good, Sam,” Danny encouraged between sloppy exchanges of lips and tongue. “No one fucks me like you do.”

After a sharp bite to Danny’s chin, Sam said, “I’m the only one who fucks you.” While he kept thrusting and Danny stayed silent, he pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Right?”

Danny rubbed his free hand down Sam’s shoulder, petting his arm and then his waist. “Yup,” was all he said, then moaned quietly and brought his hand back up to try and coerce Sam’s mouth back down to his.

But that one word wasn’t enough for Sam and Danny still hadn’t gotten loud. He picked up the pace even more, pounding into him with all the strength and energy he had in his body; now Danny couldn’t even kiss him. Moans and broken curses were spilling out of him, a rough, low song in Sam’s ears that made his entire body tingle.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he encouraged, his own voice rough too. “Keep jerking off for me while I fuck you, Danny. You wanna come?” Danny nodded in response, biting his lip and blinking up at Sam. Sam kept himself hovering, his hair hanging in both of their faces, their noses almost touching. “Tell me.”

Danny strained his neck against the pillow, head tilting back while his back arched upwards, his hips taking Sam’s ferocious thrusts easily, though Sam was sure they’d both have bruises tomorrow. “I do, Sammy,” Danny said, knuckles still sliding beneath Sam’s increasingly tensed, sweaty stomach. “I wanna come. You gonna make me come?”

With a huff, Sam leaned back and smacked Danny’s hand away to take over. He stroked as hard as he thrust, Danny’s cock leaking and getting even harder somehow. He was close, and Sam was impressed with himself. Sam was close too, the impending orgasm rumbling low in his belly, tingling down into his balls, but Danny was still facing away, eyes closed, and Sam needed to fix that.

He took Danny’s jaw in his hand and tilted his head back to face each other. Danny whimpered and that impending orgasm in Sam’s body reared its head so fast, he didn’t even realize it was happening at first, not until his heart caught up to his head. He panted, struggling to get oxygen into his lungs, and his hips twitched and stuttered until they stilled, but then Danny groaned and clawed at him.

“What?” Sam asked, his act of stroking Danny bringing him back down to earth. “You want more?”

“I’m so close, Sam,” Danny said, almost sounding like he was going to cry. It was so fucking hot Sam knew he would get hard again if he had any spare moment, but now it was Danny’s turn. He pulled out, flaccid and dripping, but pushed himself between Danny’s legs again to hump him with the same fervor he’d fucked him. Sam almost asked, but Danny did just what he wanted regardless–he kept looking into Sam’s eyes. When Danny’s gaze wandered down to his lips, Sam felt the hot, wet release begin to coat his fingers.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” Sam cooed, the words coming deep from his chest. Another few strokes and Danny was pushing his hand away; Sam spared him too much more stimulation, settling to flop entirely on top of him.

“God, you’re heavier than you look,” Danny noted, but Sam felt those strong arms wrap around his waist just the same. Danny snuggled against his shoulder and Sam sighed, heart still thumping hard.

“You’re so perfect,” Sam said, closing his eyes. It wasn’t just post-sex nonsense–he really meant it. “I really don’t know why I fuck anyone else.”

Danny chuckled, petting Sam’s hair. “Why do you?”

“‘Cause you do.”

A snort. “Not even half as much as you do, Sammy. Get real.”

“Calling me a slut?”

Danny kissed his collarbone. “Yeah. I don’t mind. Just like it best when you’re my slut.”

Sam rolled over onto his back, keeping one arm lying across Danny’s stomach. “I can be your slut whenever you want. Just tell me when.”

There was such a long pause that Sam had to worry if he’d somehow said the wrong thing, but then Danny asked, “All the time?”

Sam turned his head to look at him. He knew what Danny was asking. “Really?”

Danny nodded, looking at the ceiling. “Yeah.” Sam couldn’t answer yet, pondering what it would entail, and during his pontification, Danny added, “Will you at least consider it?”

Sam snaked over Danny’s upper body to kiss him. “I will definitely consider it,” he said. When he looked at him again, Danny looked so much softer than usual, like Sam’s fucking had actually been what he needed too. “Will you consider taking another shower?”

Danny smiled. “With you in there with me?”

Sam snapped his teeth against Danny’s jaw. “Duh.”

Danny began to sit up, lifting Sam with his hands underneath his armpits, his touch ticklish and making Sam laugh. “Request granted.”

#greta van fleet #gvf #danny wagner #sam kiszka #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam gvf #danny gvf #josh gvf #jake gvf #sanny #gvf fan fiction #gvf smut #gvf slash #danny wagner x sam kiszka

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toku-explained · 4 days

Text

Punchin Gummy

Arc: Kazuo, call sign JP1514, has a friend over amateur radio communication, Fio. Ishido inform SKIP that the Space Science Division has detected and approaching Space Kaiju. YouPi has been detecting a strange signal the past days, and cannot identify the source, but Rin tracks the receiver. Kazuo talks with Fio, he knows she's an alien on another world, with different cultural frames of reference. Yuma knocks on Kazuo door as part of the investigation, but is surprised to recognise Kazuo. They were in middle school together, while Yuma tried to be friendly things were always awkward, and realising the awkwardness Yuma leaves. Kazuo apologises to Fio, calling her his first friend, unaware Yuma is listening at the door. SKIP are fairly sure Kazuo is the receiver, but any further investigation will have to be put on hold. Kazuo and Duo discuss their ability to converse real time, and it turns out neither knows the reason. Kazuo wants to visit her planet, but she doesn't think he could. Ishido has determined the bio signature of the kaiju matches exactly with Kazuo's, so they asks Yuma to convince him to cease communication. Fio tells Kazuo she doesn't think they'll be able to talk much more, as Noiseler descends from the sky ahead of schedule. Yuma arrives and demands Kazuo turns off the signal, they wind up struggling, Kazuo unwilling to let go of Fio, as the GDF begin attacks on Noiseler. Fio interrupts the scuffle to tell Kazuo this is it. Her world has been destroyed by pollution, and she's the only one left. She didn't want to be alone so she started communicating, but this is the very last broadcast she can do. The broadcast suddenly cuts out, the result of Noiseler consuming the sound in the area, as Kazuo desperately tries to gain contact, Yuma becomes Arc, having to fight Noiseler even as it chases the noise of the GDF jets. When Noiseler is disoriented by the colour timer beeping, Arc lures is out to space with a halo. Fio manages to regain contact enough to say goodbye, and thank Kazuo for being her last friend, leaving him devastated when the signal cuts. Yuma makes sure to support Kazuo in his grief.

Shin Dogengers: The Dogengers are prepping to meet the challenge, while Shaberryman has a "nightmare" about it. Ohga-Man and Yabai Kamen escape from the soldiers, and enter a room with more, unmoving, and are confronted by the alien leader, Livaira. He demonstrates his power, more impressed by Ohga-Man than Yabai Kamen, who he defeats enough to make him revert to his previous form, and relates a a history of being once dragons on earth until the gods drove them out, now he wants revenge on the modern gods that are the heroes. The heroes are at the appointed place waiting for AHK, and have some food while waiting, and Tanaka thanks everyone for being a constant motivation. As they're cheering eachother, Tanaka is the first to spot the UFO. Shaberryman is called by Tanaka complaining about the new weapon, before Maid Shitsuji yells at them for oversleeping, everyone starts scrambling, Maid Shitsuji apologises to Tanaka for the delay, until they're all distracted by the UFO. Livaira defeats Ohga-Man, and Yabai Kamen despite being beaten continues to fight, standing up again, only falling when Livaira uses a powerful beam in frustration. Ohga-Man shields him, and espouses how important the bond between the heroes and the villains is, encouraging Yabai Kamen to stand and the two stand together against Livaira. The heroes watch the vessel, and start panicking it's here to destroy the world.

Gavv: Jeeb and Shita collect another harvest, and learning another part timer has vanished, entrust their work to the procurer. After looking at images of Gavv and with no understanding of what they can see, they give their henchman a job. Shouma acquires the last Poppin Gummy he can afford, but accidentally loses them, hitting a passerby, then collapses. The guy gives him a bento, and then learning Shoma has only been eating snacks, teaches him the importance of proper nutrition, then on seeing him help a crew with lifting, offers him a job, unaware they're being watched by the Granute agent. Hanto tells his mentor the rumours now call Gavv Kamen Rider, and there seems to be a protector, but realises he doesn't know which is which, and has to be reminded it's possible neither killed his mother, and even if he does find them, what's he actually going to be able to do. Shoma and his new friend come in as plumbers, actually an act by his friend to trick Shoma into breaking them in, Shoma realises what's up when he sees him going through the money and takes him out, the Gochizo tidy up after. Hanto visits Sashika and Rittsun for a new job researching the monsters, learning first hand of Rittsun's experience and the speculation she may have been saved by Gavv. Shoma's latest friend admits he's been stealing to try and help the man who kept him off the streets, whose business is failing. He storms off from Shoma when he questions his motives, Shoma sending a Poppin Gummy to follow. The Granute lures him into her food truck, where he becomes elated to find the money he needs, and she snatches him. The happier the human, the better the flavour of the Dark Treats, Glotta notes. Shoma decides it is time for a snack, having his first Soda Gummy and welcoming the resultant Gochizo. He wonders if he should have helped the man, but refuses to do bad things, especially now he's escaped from his siblings. Alerted to the goings on, he chases down and confronts the Granute. Hanto is accepting Kamen Rider is fighting the monsters, wondering if he's human, he is then called by Sachika about the ongoing battle. Gavv finds his hits just power up the Granute, as Hanto arrives and starts filming, so switches tactic, using Zakuzaku Chips to weaken, then returns to Poppin Gummy, but keeps losing armour. He grabs a new Poppin Gummy to restore the armour, and the new Punchin Gummy to enhance his fist, smashing the Granute, and after his ultimatum is again refused, destroys the Granute. As Hanto is in awe, an unknown figure snatches two of the Gochizo. Shoma frees the man and asks him to stay on the right side of the law, and leaves, only to be called out by Hanto, and then the man who snatched the Gochizo asking if he's something other than a Granute, as the two debate he runs off. The man introduced himself as a Granute Researcher. The factory having to close is officially confirmed, and the man apologises for being unable to close it, but is told he never expected payback for helping him, reminding the man of how he didn't help Shoma out of altruism. The minion shows Jeeb and Shita footage of Gavv, allowing them to confirm Kamen Rider has a Gavv of his own.

Boonboomger: Chassiro scopes out the Aori Family as part of his job for Tokoyari, and enlists ByunD and Sakito. At the Garage, after discussing with Shirabe the Mad Rex situation, Taiya and Boonboom reveal they met Chassiro when he broke in seeking to recover Bundario (or at least whatever fell on Taiya's property) only for Taiya to recruit him instead, Shirabe is surprised to learn this was a job for the ISA. The Sanseaters are sad to learn Disrace has discarded Mad Rex's memories, but create a Gong Kuruma on orders. Sakito and ByunD cause a commotion, luring out the Aori boss and his son, Mira's would-be groom, while Chassiro infiltrates to find the target, a Hashilien Key. The Hashiliens attack, the Aori's are still terrified of the Sanseaters, and after knocking out the Aori's Sakito challenges Gong Kuruma, but is forced into boxing gloves, and eventually overpowered. When Chassiro returns with the key they learn from the Aori's that Cannonborg gave it to them as part of enlisting them to his cause, the Sanseaters were unaware if this. Taiya, Mira and Jou are stopped from arriving by Mad Rex Fury getting in the way. Chassiro challenges Gong Kuruma alone, and is forced into boxing, and uses a speed attack that is dodged, but Sakito's own attack from behind gets him, and they defeat the Kurumajin. As the Kurumaju appears, Chassiro lends Sakito Off-Road so they can pilot Wing Boonboomger Robo Marine & Off-Road Custom, and after some clever techniques score a knockout. Mad Rex tries to leave but is hit by Taiya and seems to regain his old personality, Genba interferes so he can demand Disrace's location, but Mad Rex is now shocked to learn his counterpart is on earth, and stumbles away. Genba departs as well sullenly. Chassiro gives the key to Tokoyari, who refuses to answer questions and departs, calling Raita to confirm they finally have all the keys Cannonborg messed their plans up by giving out, but now they alone are the Hashilien conspirators. Taiya and Chassiro note that their enemies may now be more than just the Hashiliens.

#toku explained #dogengers #bakuage sentai boonboomger #ultraman arc #shin dogengers #kamen rider gavv

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jemmo · 9 months

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top 5 friendships/friend groups in bls? 👀✨

i love this question!!!!! friendships are one of my favourite parts of bl and i need more of it in 2024

kimi ni wa todokanai/i cannot reach you - i adore the entirety of this friendship group and it’s such a testament to the show bc they hardly get fleshed out, but from that first shot of them all watching yamato get confessed to i knew i’d adore them. it’s the way they don’t really understand yamato and still hang out with him anyway, the way fujino is the pet straight that just won’t shut up about his girlfriend but tries to be so good to kakeru even when it messes everything up, whatever hosaka and amamiya have going on, and more than anything hosaka going after yamato and his persistence to be his friend and talk about things with him and give him advice and the way that he identifies the queerness in him. they’re just all so good at being in a group together, it’s so boyish and youthful, it makes you yearn for school days like that.

my school president - of course this has to be on here, they set the bar so high for friendship groups in bl, and it says a lot that in a bl with so many couples, they constantly go out of their way to stress the how special and important their friendships are, like yes platonic love is just as worthy of love songs as romantic love, and beyond the core group, people like tiwson and kajorn are still so important to the story. i’ll say it again, it’s so boyish and youthful and it also gives you that feeling of validation to see people that are kind of outsiders and not that popular band together and form such a strong, loyal bond, like these boys would die for each other and again, it makes me yearn for school days like that.

minato shouji coin laundry (it counts bc of season 2) - specifically shin and asuka bc whenever they have a scene together im just having the best time. shin is so grumpy and asuka is so desperate to get under his skin bc despite the bickering exterior they are so besties and have this added layer of being the only other person to understand their position in their relationships. again it’s queers finding queers so even if it doesn’t make sense on the surface, there’s that shared experience that helps them bond and understand each other and it’s so good

the eighth sense - anytime i think of joonpyo i can’t help but smile bc he’s such a legend, and so well written, bc even tho we don’t see it, we get such a good idea of what his life is like and it’s actually separate from jihyun, like it really feels like these two have been besties for years but are taking this chance to explore their own lives without feeling the need to include the other, but still knowing they’re the person they can go home and talk to about it all. it’s knowing that person will always be there, and you can both be honest and real with them and also just act like total fools together.

only friends - and no this is not msp, im not putting this on here for the whole group bc this is not a good friendship group, this is here for sand and nick only bc they’re literally the only solid friendship in the whole show where they’re actually looking out for each other, and they fact they made out and were able to laugh and cuddle afterwards says it all. they are the pathetic second choice club that uniquely understand each other bc they’re the only other person that knows what it’s like to love someone that’s as much of a mess as ray and boston are.

ASK ME MY TOP 5 OF ANYTHING BL 2023

#2024 im begging you pls give me more iconic besties #they’re one of my favourite parts of a show #and thank you for the ask

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ask-cloverfield · 2 years

Text

So I kind of became of obsessed with the final antagonist of Shin Ultraman wall of text under read more or if we are being generous lets call it a character study and I am obsessed with villains who are horrified by the idea of killing their rival

Zōffy is the final antagonist of Shin Ultraman. I was very curious to see how he was adapted because his final speech with Ultraman in the original series is one of my favorite moments in the franchise and I am delighted to see that Zōffy lives up to the original.

I believe he serves as an enjoyable example of an angelic villain in service of a Greater Good, whereas Ultraman is of course horrified by what they have declared lesser.

Shin Ultraman is of course the story of an alien who was captivated by Humanity and ignored a code of non-interference to land on their planet and protect them from threats too large for them.

However When he lands* he inadvertently kills a human. After this he takes his form, his memories and proceeds to try and live this man’s life to gain an understanding of the man he killed*. In doing this he violated his planet’s code to “Merge” with a planet’s indigenous species.

He is captivated by humanity in part due to their fragility.

Ultraman Lipiah is an alien from the Star of Light*. Specifically he is an Emissary* tasked with monitoring the indigenous life-forms of his sector. It is also implied they serve as something of a deterrent from anyone wishing to exploit less developed planets. His actions throughout the film continuously violate their Star’s code, and this causes the Star of Light to replace him with Zōffy.

Zōffy is there to serve as the planet’s adjudicator, the events of the film have given Zōffy a simple conclusion about humans, namely that they should be killed before they become too much of a threat. Especially as the interstellar community is aware of their capacity to become bioweapons.

And now we get to the actual discussion of the character. When he arrives he doesn’t open by telling Ultraman his decision to eradicate the stellar system.

He arrives and sees Ultraman sitting over the body of the man he killed at the start of the film. It is instantly clear to him that Ultraman has done the taboo.

“You took this man’s life, Lipiah. No, I’ll call you by the name you’ve been given on this planet, Ultraman”

And yet he says this in a sympathetic tone before allowing him to explain what happened. For a character meant to serve as the film’s final ideological villain he opens his conversation by trying to show Ultraman every courtesy he can.

He refers to Ultraman committing their culture’s greatest taboo as merely a mistake in a gentle tone before trying to argue that humans will be exploited as bioweapons if they don’t act soon. As he activates the Orbital Suppression System Zetton he tries to comfort Ultraman in a truly morbid fashion.

“The Star of Light has documented nearly 13 billion intelligent life forms. The loss of one will have no impact on the Universe”

I am genuinely captivated by his continued attempts to downplay the “consequences” of Ultraman’s actions. Ultraman of course responds that, “for the inhabitants of this planet One is all there is.” and begins to walk away.

However as he does Zōffy calls out to him in a desperate voice, “Is the intelligent life on this planet worth dying over?” as Shinji continues walking unperturbed he calls out in a slightly more frantic tone “Ultraman!”

The more I watch this scene the more I am convinced that Zōffy is of course trying to get Ultraman to escape Zetton’s blast radius. The destruction of this stellar system is to him tragic but a necessary evil, but the death of a comrade?

Ultraman goes to attack Zetton and ends up brutalized and as he falls from the sky Zōffy appears to him and says in a heartbroken tone of voice, “Resistance is futile… Stand aside and await humanity’s purge, Ultraman.”

Ultraman of course does not stand aside and with the help of humanity rises* and defeats Zetton, albeit left mortally wounded and unable to form his physical body and is left adrift in a pocket dimension.

However, much like in the original series, Zōffy finds his wounded comrade. He gently tells him to open his eyes and states with much relief that it is a miracle he was able to find him. Zōffy listens to Ultraman deliriously talk about various virtues of humanity and Zōffy quickly agrees and states Ultraman was right and they deserve protection.

However something about this struck me. Zōffy’s tone of voice doesn’t really seem to line up with someone who has changed their ways. However it certainly sounds like the voice of someone talking to someone who is going to die and wanting to convince them of a point so that he can get him to agree to come with him and get medical attention.

I cannot exaggerate the desperation in his voice in this scene. He speeds through that revocation of his view of humanity so he can state that he is taking Ultraman home and they can leave the humans in peace. The sheer relief in his voice when he says “Come. Let’s return to the Planet of Light, Ultraman.”

However Ultraman states that within him there is a human and to allow him to live he must remain on Earth. Zoffy hastily adds “You now understand him so well that you’re willing to sacrifice yourself for him. He must understand you as well. He will forgive you.”

Ultraman then states that he fused with Shinji so he can understand humans, but he realized they are too complex to simply understand and soon he desired to be human. However humanity is running out of time and in ensuring Zetton’s death other species will fear them and continue to try and exploit them so he must stay on Earth to protect them.

So Zōffy attempts to appeal to his sense of duty. He reminds him that he must face justice in the Star of Light. Of course Ultraman makes the only choice he can. He asks Zōffy to transfer his life to Shinji Kaminaga to resurrect him at the cost of his life, adding that to be human is to accept death, that the man’s friends would also wish this and he wants to grant them this.

Zōffy proceeds to ask in a heartbroken tone, “Have you grown so fond of humans, Ultraman?” and proceeds to grant his wish. As he explains what he is doing he sounds choked up*.

Zōffy claimed that humanity’s advancement and their nature to transform into a bioweapon was why he was to kill them. Yet when they are the deciding factor in Zetton’s defeat, a weapon feared across the galaxy he claims no no now they are worthy of protection. I question that Zōffy was truly convinced by this.

I instead propose that the loss of one Giant of Light would have no impact on the universe, but for Zōffy one was all there was.

*Whether or not Shinji Kaminaga’s death was caused specifically by Lipiah landing is not explicit. All that is clear is that he was behind the landing spot and sometime between Ultraman landing and killing Neronga he was hit by debris and died. For simplicity’s sake I am referring to this as the landing. The film for its part only says his “impact” killed him

*The film refers to the identity theft as merging, but everything points to Shinji being dead and for simplicity's sake I will also refer to it as merging

*Alternatively translated as “Planet of Light”

*Something left ambiguous is the scope of this task. While he specifies that he is monitoring Earth’s indiginous species the effects of his decisions affect the solar system which could imply that an Emissary is to monitor not just a planet, but the entire “Stellar System”

*Listen. I need to make this joke you don’t understand

*I feel it pertinent to note a change in Zōffy’s body language. Before Ultraman is mortally wounded he is inhumanly still, doesn’t even move when flying he keeps the same pose perpetually. Until he talks to the near dead Ultraman when he suddeny can’t stop fidgeting and uncomfortably shifting.

#shin ultraman #shin ultraman spoilers

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everyyoojoonghyuk · 2 years

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I posted 271 times in 2022

156 posts created (58%)

115 posts reblogged (42%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@your--isgayrights

@hsyirl

@feralmoonlight

@its-sixxers

@amayavittori

I tagged 268 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#orv - 166 posts

#yoo joonghyuk - 155 posts

#yjh - 143 posts

#yoo jonghyuk - 137 posts

#not every yjh - 128 posts

#kim dokja - 41 posts

#joongdok - 16 posts

#orv spoilers - 16 posts

#shin yoosung - 10 posts

#omniscient reader's viewpoint - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i don't think he really opened his heart up enough to really fall for him until he first realized that yjh was more than a character though

My Top Posts in 2022:

530

159 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

Going through the climax of the arc that made me fall in love with ORV is something special, so of course, I had to write a small meta. Keeping everything vague so that there are no novel spoilers <3

When Dokja revives, everyone (who can stand) immediately flocks to him. They surround him with worried looks and outstretched arms. Even Joonghyuk is holding on still. They're all focused on him, he's obviously the center with how the lighting is, but it means more. He cares about something that they don't.

And that's future Shin Yoosung. None of them have a reason to care about the woman that's been trying to kill them. And Yoo Joonghyuk has no knowledge of the 41st turn yet, so he doesn't either. But Dokja does. He knows her suffering, her story.

See the full post

173 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

ORV EPILOGUE SPOILERS

Argikysacgyjkj Yoo Joonghyuk trying his best to love Kim Dokja after the scenarios even though some of his habits are different and he doesn't quite remember everything he should. He doesn't look at him the same either, the emotions in his eyes aren't as deep, they don't reflect what they've been through till now

He tries reaching for his hand, once. All he's met with is confusion. Kim Dokja doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need too, Yoo Joonghyuk pulls away with guilty disgust

He's sure of it then, that this isn't the true Kim Dokja

And Kim Dokja, knowing what he does and not understanding the odd looks he gets when he does or says something that is supposedly out of the ordinary. It isn't, not to him. It's all he knows

And when he catches Yoo Joonghyuk staring at him with something akin to longing, he... doesn't feel as much as he thinks he should. There's love there, no doubt about that, but the extent it reaches doesn't mirror the love that shines through Yoo Joonghyuk's eyes

And when, one day, Yoo Joonghyuk grabs his hand with that desperate and hopeful look on his face, Kim Dokja can't bring himself to feel more than he does, and finds himself confused by that fact. There's something in him that is screaming that there should be more

Then Yoo Joonghyuk angrily pulls away and refuses to meet his eyes and Kim Dokja has a scary theory that maybe he's not the real one after all

236 notes - Posted May 8, 2022

ORV SPOILERS

Just imagining YJH realizing that the one KDJ loves most is him and he will be the one to deal the final blow

And that's part of the reason YJH is so mad when he finds out that KDJ only saw him as a character the whole time because he knows he loves him, but it just was for an idolized version of him, not who he is as a person

243 notes - Posted May 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

468

492 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #This feels like less posts than I thought.... Maybe I'm thinking of 2021 #Anyway looking through the tags of some of these was a joy lol #I love knowing that there are so many who are also not normal about YJH and kdj #not every YJH

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3smo · 2 years

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naoto tachibana !

warning: part 2 of this post. just something small. dom reader. masturbating kinda. leg riding? degradation. mean reader. sir/ma'am is used once. aaa i didnt like how this turned out 😭.

"is there something you want to tell me?" you raised a brow at the man in front of you. he places his hands in front of him, furrowing his brows.

you place your leg over the other, tilting your head to watch him closely. he gulps and squeezes his hands even tighter.

"what do you mean?" he sends you a wobbly smile. you return it in a sly manner. you made sure your office door was shut before turning your attention back to him.

"i know you touch yourself to me." naoto flinches, eyes wide. his lips part and a huff leaves him. "did you think i wouldn't find out?"

naoto's face heats up as he looks down, his shoulders tense.

what shocked you the most was that it was just a theory and now that he's practically admitted to it you couldn't help but laugh at him.

naoto's vision goes blurry, his eyes well up with tears from embarrassment. yet he doesn't understand how he could get hard at this situation. the painful throb in his pants reminds him to cover himself up.

"pervert." you were being a hypocrite. "you're actually getting hard from this?"

naoto's shoulders shake at your scoff and he bows his head even further.

you stand up, walking in front of your desk. "speak up, are you mute?"

"no, sir/ma'am..."

"(name)." naoto peaks at you through his hair. you lean against your desk and cross your arms. "call me (name)."

he can feels your eyes on his body, stopping at his burning, red ears. you cup his cheeks and rise his face up so he was looking at you properly.

his eyes are filled with tears and his expression is bashful, you can't help but coo at him. "am i making you uncomfortable?"

"no.. (n-name)."

"do you like this?" you look down at the bulge in his pants. were you too harsh..

"yes" he pants out, drool slips past his lips. he looks at you with wide, teary eyes. as if he was pleading, like a small puppy. "please! um, please help me.."

a smile grows on your face, this is what you've been dying to see. and that phone call alerted you to do something about it. even though you were reluctant to show how much you wanted him.

"yeah?" he nods. the strict and composed naoto was nowhere to be seen. you really want to see him at his breaking point. it would feel so relieving and satisfying, but you had to wait. "won't you get on your knees for me?"

he's breathing heavily as he sinks to the floor without another word. his palm pressing down on his bulge to relieve himself. you use your foot to remove his hands and lightly press down. naoto gasps loudly, quickly reaching out to grip your leg.

"keep your hands behind your back and keep quiet." naoto whimpers, obeying your words. "you wouldn't want to alert the others what we're doing, right?"

he bit his lip, resting his face against your thigh. a quiet whine leaves him when you move your leg so it was positioned under him.

"go on." you say. naoto tilts his head slightly in confusion. you press your leg against his bulge, urging him to rut against it. "be a good boy and follow orders, tachibana."

naoto frowns, the blush growing even more. you could feel the heat of his cheeks against your thigh. he tries to not be greedy. instead, focusing on his hard cock on your leg.

just like when he rode the pillow earlier, naoto rises his hips and makes contact with your leg. he struggles to keep in his moans, concealing them with short, and panted gasps

he quickly gets the hang of it. he throws his head back, biting his bottom lip.

"m-more," he stammers in a small voice. his hips buck up on your shin, pre-cum staining his pants. he whines when you don't respond back. he wants to take his pants off...

naoto removes his hand from behind him to wrap them around his stomach. you let it slid. it's cute to see him so desperate for attention. he looks up at you. his shaky hips continue to thrust on your leg. you reach down to swipe his sweaty bangs away from his eyes.

he whimpers your name, never telling you what he wants. you were giving all that you wanted to. and naoto was a little selfish;

"what is it?" blood sweeps down his lip, his teeth had sunken in to harsh.

"(name)! please.." you raise a brow in question. naoto looks away to press a lingering kiss to your inner thigh - "touch me.."

...

#dom reader #dom!reader #sub tokyo revengers #sub tr #sub character #tr smut #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revengers smut #sub naoto #naoto tachibana x reader smut #naoto tachibana smut #naoto smut

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gold-pavilion · 3 years

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Shin soukoku and the philosophy of “meaning”

It’s a running theme that the team dubbed double black is always comprised of two very different but complementary members, from ability and skills to character and values. Shin soukoku, the new double black, isn’t the exception but actually the greatest exponent of that.

Now, it’s also not unintentional that BSD’s characters and their viewpoints can sometimes represent different schools of existential thought, developing and clashing with others - it’s a theme that’s very central to BSD itself after all - and it’s precisely there, on that plane, where the opposition is built most strongly between Atsushi and Akutagawa.

I’ll explain each of their standpoints, and in a minute you’ll see exactly what I mean.

Starting with Atsushi, his character arc sees him overcoming the idea he was raised under: that he needs to earn and justify his right to be alive, otherwise he’s a burden at best or pernicious at worst. And so, the need he displays to save others is both an act of empathy and a pathological need to be good for something, so that he can feel forgiven and justified.

(Continuing under the cut due to length and plenty of imgs.)

This view has guided Atsushi from the start. It’s what pushed him to consider self-sacrifice as the only thing he could do during his ADA entrance test, what caused him to desperately want to save both the civilians during Kajii’s train hijack and Kyouka shortly after. It’s explained the most clearly in the following exchange with Akutagawa himself, during the Echo chapters:

But one thing is the ghost of the past behind Atsushi’s back, and another is his own thinking. Such ideas didn’t originate from him and they’re certainly not his own; in fact, Atsushi is fighting against them.

Thanks to his own desire to live and the very healing effect of his time with the ADA, he’s quickly learned that no one can decide someone else’s worth or determine whether they have a right to live. That the worth in a person is inherent; a being doesn’t have to “be worthy”, it just has to be. It exists because it exists, not through virtue of being allowed by someone else. Existing, in itself, has worth, and anything more can be built up from there. That’s what he’s arrived at and what he wants to prove.

Akutagawa is aware of this viewpoint.

But Akutagawa refuses and opposes such a philosophy. He, on the other hand, has never seen or known worth in existence alone. Rather, his ideology is that a being doesn’t have worth, but must become worthy by virtue of being useful for something, being acknowledged for an achievement or use, and thus be given significance. To him, not everyone deserves their existence, not everyone gets that peace of mind. Not if they don’t win it first.

This is, of course, what his childhood in the slums and his education under Dazai taught him, what Dazai drilled into the deepest parts of him.

A being with no use is something worse than dead: it’s meaningless. It can be discarded, since it’s as good as nothing. So what he must do is earn his place and prove his significance.

Even now, he must prove it.

In other words, we can summarize their standpoints this way: facing the question of “what makes it meaningful to be alive? What is meaning?”, Atsushi’s character as a whole represents the answer that “meaning is inherent to the self”, while Akutagawa’s says “meaning is determined externally to the self”.

When Atsushi and Akutagawa clash, it’s often a direct opposition between these two ideas. Akutagawa’s initial hate for Atsushi hinged on the frustration that someone like him, someone who didn’t prove to be strong enough and worthy enough, was being treated with humanity and given Dazai’s recognition. Likewise, Atsushi’s hate for Akutagawa was born from the latter’s disregard for life itself, for itself, which nullified his capacity for empathy.

Bearing this in mind, the following dialogues (taking place near the beginning, during Kyouka’s arc) become much clearer and more telling:

Akutagawa wanted her to have what he so desperately works for. Atsushi wanted her to be told what he so desperately needed too. Through their perspectives of Kyouka, they very much exposed their individual philosophies. And this first clash of values would shape their joint character arcs.

Of course, at the bottom of it all, what they both struggle with is the same: self-worth. And what they desire is also the same: to live meaningful lives. For Atsushi the answer is already at hand, what he must do is save lives and help people through the ADA, it’s what fulfills him and, little by little, eases the psychological ‘curse’ placed upon him by his deceased mentor. For Akutagawa, the answer is obtaining Dazai’s acknowledgement, being given worth by the only person he truly thinks can confer it to him, in order to feel that his life has been and is something of value.

Though their search is similar, their answers are opposite and that’s what makes them two sides of the same coin, in a more profound way than anything else could. That’s what they are, as the current double black.

Or is it? Is that all?

After all, they didn’t simply stay as opposites and leave it at that, fighting each other without extending a single bridge between them. Akutagawa has shown time and time again that he understands Atsushi’s viewpoint, that he sees him. Atsushi sees him as well, and because of that, he’s set that unexpected bridge in order for Akutagawa to truly come closer and see things from his side of the divide. The constant friction of the two opposing forces erodes and begins to change them both.

Akutagawa, most of all, is still on a journey, tried and tested against Atsushi’s mostly defined arc. Through the rule of no killing, he’s gaining a new perspective on the value of life in general, and may yet see his own under a new light. Even now, he’s reconsidering what he’s proving and why.

In this setup of opposing philosophies something may yet change. This instance of soukoku, which has been built in a similar manner to the previous ones (that I believe have also had streaks of philosophical opposition written into them, but that’s thought and talk for another time) might result in something a tad different and be, in a way, more successful than their predecessors.

But that’s the story Asagiri-sensei is still in process of telling us, so we’ll see what comes as we continue to read it.

For now, thanks for reading this!

Manga credit: easygoingscans’s translation of BSD’s first arcs, dazaiscans’s translation of Portrait of a Father and the Echo chapters, and my translation for the recent Decay arc chapters.

#bsd meta #bsd and philosophy #shin soukoku #akutagawa ryuunosuke #nakajima atsushi #sskk #thoughts and talk and so #bungou stray dogs #izumi kyouka #she always ends up being very relevant #if the subject is the themes of bsd

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somebody-909 · 3 years

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I Love Yoo 151 Analysis (pt.2) - A Lovers' Goodbye

(Part 1 here)

In the episode, the characters show a level of deep concern for each other, but it's continuously contradicted by their hurtful actions and words. But why is it so contradictory? Answering this question helps us better understand the turmoil and complications involved in this heartbreaking scene, as well as what feelings are most genuine.

A Desperate Desire to Connect

Yeong-gi leaves his school to see Shin-ae standing in front of him. She confronts him as to why he’s ignored her calls and if he’s planning on leaving without saying goodbye.

Yeong-gi walks past her.

But looking carefully, we notice that Yeong-gi is momentarily caught off guard. And we are given a glimpse into his feelings. Notice the way he first looks at her, his expression is almost violent; you see the internal turmoil he feels when Shin-ae suddenly surprises him. The moment is similar to other key moments where Shin-ae causes this look: at the balcony; when she put his earphones in; and when she looked at his healed scratches during their lunch break.

I'm going to argue this look is because he is suddenly confronted with something he's guilty of doing (avoiding and lying to her) and, like the other moments in the series, because he finds Shin-ae to be emotionally confusing.

His second expression seems to indicate guilt, and him contemplating whether to engage with what Shin-ae is saying. But instead he walks away, and his expression shows resigned resolution, as he's firmly decided he won't engage. This falls in line with those other moments, instead of engaging with whatever feelings Shin-ae invokes in him, he chooses to dismiss them. Here, this includes the dismissal of Shin-ae herself.

Shin-ae's Hands

She continues, accusingly asking him about how he deceived his friends.

“How long were you planning on keeping everything a secret? How long were you planning on keeping you a secret?”

But her questions are actually more redundant, it’s their implications that are meant to convey meaning. They insinuate that his friends would’ve wanted to see the real him. They would’ve wanted to be there for him. And as we see in the WcDonald's scene, she is part of this group. She would've wanted to be there for him.

Accordingly, she then shifts from her surface level emotion of anger to what she more desperately wants to convey — her compassion and desire to be there for him. Because she is scared — so scared to lose him that she so desperately tries to convey this compassion in hopes to reach him.

“Yeong-gi! I’m right here for you! Just as how you were for me! Please!"

After being ignored once again, she extends her hand to touch him and she yells out a different name, the one acknowledged by both of them to be his real name.

“Nolan!”

We see the motif of hands and emotional distance again. Every instance where Shin-ae extends her hands, she doesn't actually reach Yeong-gi or she is met with refusal, with WcDonald's as the only exception (although Yeong-gi initially protests). Her attempts to reach him are denied.

Here, when Shin-ae extends her hand and calls out "Nolan", she reaches to connect with him once more, but this time with the real him — the one without the mask and the fake name.

But he pushes her instead, rejecting her attempts to reach the true him.

It's Freezing Out

After pushing her, Yeong-gi quickly realizes what he's done and his concern for Shin-ae leaks when he says,

"The rain is freezing!"

It's a callback to previous moments in the series where they express concern for one another after commenting on the weather.

This moment of unhidden concern contradicts what we saw just a moment earlier when he ignores and pushes her.

The entire episode is full of contradictory moments such as this, where the characters deep concern for each other is juxtaposed by their seeming apathy and disdain. So it's necessary for us to sift through what we see, and differentiate between what to accept as real and what to call surface-level and "self-sabotaging".

Yeong-gi's Hands

Shin-ae ignores Yeong-gi's concern over the weather and continues talking about her feelings.

"It kind of makes sense now. How you were able to see through my act. 'My facade.' Because you were the same...

I want to feel angry. I should distrust you. But I feel sad...

I don't want you to disappear. I don't want you to go away."

Shin-ae starts to cry here (you can notice a streak on her right cheek)... Does Yeong-gi notice this in the rain at this point?

Yeong-gi begins to extend his hand out to Shin-ae — he wants to comfort her. But he chooses not to.

Despite his concern for her, he doesn't involve himself. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't touch her. Why?

"You deserve someone better."

I've previously mentioned that the panels in Ep. 65 are purposefully ambiguous, meant to roughly reflect both Shin-ae and Yeong-gi's feelings of inadequacy. They both feel as though the other deserves someone better.

However, the panels with Yeong-gi strikingly reflect his movements, giving us insight into his thought process.

In this scene in Ep. 151, Yeong-gi's hands parallel that moment on the balcony, and his thought process is the same. He ultimately turns away because he thinks she deserves someone better.

However, I also want to draw attention to another parallel — when Yeong-gi reaches back towards Shin-ae when she calls him at the formal.

At that time, Yeong-gi is called by Shin-ae since he is the one who is troubled. He extends his hand back towards where he heard her because he wants to seek comfort in her.

So, when Yeong-gi extends his hand to Shin-ae, it's not just for her. It's because he also wants to allow himself to rely on her.

But when he extends his hand towards her, the specific thought he has is,

"I don't deserve you."

What we see is that, part of Yeong-gi's hesitance is also because he has to fight that reaching for Shin-ae means something to him.

Because deep down he has also has a desperate desire to connect with her. But he hates himself. He doesn't think he deserves her. So he doesn't allow himself to pursue this "selfish" desire. He doesn't let himself reach for her.

As a result, he only allows himself to support her when he doesn't get that reciprocated, like when he stands to the side during her dance with Kousuke, when he asks Dieter to comfort her, or when he sits outside her hospital room... running away when she sees him.

Being there for her means something to him.

He doesn't deserve her so he doesn't allow himself to rely on her. Even though she wants him to.

Yeong-gi's Reaction

After Shin-ae's repeated attempts, Yeong-gi finally responds.

"I don't have anything to say. I'm sorry for leading you on all this time."

And this calm, blunt admission of guilt causes Shin-ae to be hit with the full reality of their relationship.

Perhaps during her inquiry this whole time, she was actually hoping to be somewhat proven wrong. That Yeong-gi would now show a desire to genuinely connect or at least have some explanation that wasn't just... because. and I'm sorry.

Her countenance changes and she becomes more mellow. She seems to change from denial and insistence, to acceptance. And she asks the last few questions to finally cement her worst fear — that it was all fake, right from when the masked boy asked to be partners.

"The night you asked me to be your partner... You said we made a great team... Our friendship... How much of it was genuine? I'm guessing it was all a lie too, huh?"

But this time, Yeong-gi lets it get to him.

What changes?

Is it her expression? Maybe he notices she's crying this time.

Is it her words? Earlier, Shin-ae asks him "What happened to you? Do you hate yourself?"

Now, she questions their shared relationship which causes Yeong-gi enough anguish to act. We may interpret this to mean that concern for Yeong-gi alone is not enough to drive him to reach for her, but concern for something that affects her too, their shared relationship, is (which is fitting, as mentioned earlier).

Yeong-gi also doesn't verbally respond to her question, was it all fake? Does this mean the answer's yes and he can't bring himself to say it?

I'll argue that he doesn't answer because he can't — he doesn't know the answer. Surely, some of it was fake, but something was real.

Something was so real that hearing her so sadly ask whether it was all fake makes him feel enough pain to fight against his inhibitions... and he finally reaches for her.

A Lovers’ A Friends’ Goodbye

Yeong-gi hugging Shin-ae the way he does... is intimate. But there aren't protests from Shin-ae. Instead, she sinks into the embrace.

When he looks at her, holding her face in his hand, and wipes away her tears, she quietly accepts.

I don't think I need to say how intimate this is. And frankly, how bizarre it is to see them do this. We haven't seen their relationship steadily progress to a point that would warrant them doing something like this in a way that feels appropriate. This is easily far too intimate for their relationship.

I’ve argued now and in the past that Yeong-gi has realized his (romantic) feelings for Shin-ae. His inner conflict simply meant there was a lot more exploration of his feelings that was shown in the comic.

As a result, I have not focused on Shin-ae’s perspective nearly as much. But there are moments where she seems to bear some undue fondness for Yeong-gi, especially due to her sudden role-reversal after the formal. She becomes quite friendly with him, she gives him soft smiles, she even reaches for him in her dreams... all of which may have been indicative of something that was there, something she didn't think about — something subconscious and unnoticed. Something romantic.

I believe this is shown here. Shin-ae wouldn't have ever initiated this, she wouldn't have even thought to. It makes a lot of sense that it's Yeong-gi who initiates this intimate moment (because he's realized those feelings, and it's been lingering under the surface for a while).

But Shin-ae's immediate acceptance is very telling... she feels something too. And she doesn't mind it. At least not in this moment.

There is this undeniable sense of underlying understanding between them. What they’re doing is not explicitly romantic. But it’s most certainly not platonic. They understand that the nature of what they’re feeling is unconventional and beyond friendship.

But alongside these feelings, there's something heavier — a feeling of desperation.

It feels like a goodbye.

Just moments before, Shin-ae seemed to have reached the final stages of accepting that Yeong-gi's gone.

They feel this impending sense of goodbye... So for one final moment, they entertain everything they purposefully hid behind their masks, what bubbled under the surface, what would've blossomed if given time. Everything that could've and would've been.

Their desperate intimacy in these final moments strikingly resembles what we may have seen elsewhere... but between lovers.

Lovers who know they will be separated, so for their final moments together share a moment of uninterrupted and unquestioned intimacy. No questions or qualms. After all, this could be the end.

But - Yeong-gi and Shin-ae weren't lovers. They were only friends, right?

Unless... this was also something that could've been?

However, when Yeong-gi places his hand on Shin-ae's left cheek, he touches her scars. We know that she got them from her accident in middle school. But all Yeong-gi knows is that he dropped her.

After he finally allows himself to reach for her, he's reminded of how he's failed her.

And he remembers — he doesn't deserve her.

His resolution is cemented, and he finally severs their ties... walking away, and calling her "Yoo".

Conclusions and Ep. 152

At the peak of the conflict in their relationship, and the height of their emotions, Shin-ae and Yeong-gi are faced with the imminent end of their relationship.

Despite it apparently being brought about themselves, through their contradictory actions, we can easily understand that their disdain for one another is... faked. For Yeong-gi, it's a byproduct of his special blend of troubles — his affinity to lie and "manipulate", in accordance with his insecurities. He doesn't tell Shin-ae he feels that he's bad for her, because he understands she won't accept that. Instead he pretends he doesn't care for her at all.

And Shin-ae, who isn't privy to the thought process behind this, is left wondering why her repeated attempts to reach him are rejected. Perhaps the boy under the mask really didn't care for her at all. It was all fake after all.

But Yeong-gi hugs her when she asks him that. They share a brief intimate moment with no words. And yet this moment is the most honest. The intimacy and care they show each other in that moment easily supersedes their earlier moments in honesty. Their feelings are palpable to us, and we understand them to be earnest and open. In this sole moment, neither of them hide.

Episode 152 shows the aftermath this moment has on them — Shin-ae is left reeling — she stands in the rain, mentioning that her throuat hurts. Later, she lays in bed in fetal position — completely struck by grief. Dieter himself recognizes this pain to stem from her love for Yeong-gi.

Yeong-gi, parallels her pain — his throat also hurts, as he dry-heaves after the moment. His physical agony reflects his emotional turmoil.

Personally, I believe there is some optimism to be found in 151 and 152 — after all, the love these characters have for each other is genuine. Not even after, but during the moment, they already regret hurting one another.

If their love for each other is enough to already push back so violently against their insecurities and desire to run away, it's only a matter of time until that love wins.

And when that happens, Shin-ae and Yeong-gi will reach a place of genuine emotional connection, where neither of them feel the need to don a mask. A place where, instead, they willfully choose to cast it aside in order to truly see one another. Because that's exactly what they want, to love each other's authentic self.

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bestiesenpai · 4 years

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Neophyte - Gojo Satoru

I shall feed you lol and here is the post they’re talking about, in case anyone would like context

Content warning: dumb inexperienced reader, age gap, almost exclusive usage of ‘little girl’ (reader still 18+ of course lads), uh losing virginity, spitting as well...oh and squirting too

Two weeks. That’s how long they said they’d be gone for, and although you were old enough to be on your own, your parents insisted on getting you a babysitter.

“Bye you two! We’ll call when we make it to the hotel!” Your mother shouted from the backseat of the car.

“Make sure (Y/N) doesn’t stay up too late, her sleep schedule is already bad as it is!” Your father added, loading up the bags in the back of the taxi. He chuckled when you groaned, and he sat in the car.

“Bye!” Waving goodbye, you watched them speed off into the evening sky, the sunset painting a pretty picture for their departure.

“Alright, first order of business: ordering some food!” Gojo announced, pulling his phone out of his pocket and walking to the front door. “What do you want, (Y/N)? I’m feeling like having pizza.”

“Pizza is fine.” Trailing after him, you tried not to let your gaze settle on him for too long. You didn’t hate having Gojo staying over, it was quite the opposite. You wanted nothing more than to run your hands through his crazy hair and have him kiss you senseless and there were plenty of nights you lied awake thinking about him with an ache between your legs, and it would only get worse as the days went by.

“Here’s to our first night together!” Gojo cheered, clinking his beer can against your soda. Leaning back in his chair, he took a massive bite of his pizza, making you laugh at how his cheeks puffed out. Your eyes wandered down to his beer, and you suddenly had a question.

“Gojo, can I try your beer?”

“Hm? You sure?” Lifting up the can with the edges of his fingers, he turned it over in his hand. “Why would a little girl want to try something like this?” A subtle heat rose to your cheeks, getting warmer when his eyes looked at yours.

“I’m just curious. Please?” Stretching your hand out, Gojo lets you take the can from him.

“Alright, but not too much.” He warned. Leaning back in his chair, a smirk spread across his face. The smell wafting up from the can was enough to give you pause, but you tipped your head back and drank anyway.

“Ew!” Curling your lip away as soon as the taste coated your tongue, you held it out for Gojo to take back. His laughter filled the air, getting even louder watching you chug your soda to rid yourself of the taste.

“Not your favorite?” He chuckles, taking a sip.

“No.” Shaking your head, a shiver rips through you. “How can you like that stuff?”

“When you’re a grown up, you’ll understand.”

“But I am grown up.” Gojo ignores your statement with another chuckle and a bite of his food.

Once dinner is over, it’s time for a movie. It’s Gojos idea, he wants you two to get comfortable with each other, after all he will be staying in your guest bedroom. He even went out for a quick run to the convenience store to grab you ice cream and a few treats to eat. Letting you pick the movie, he lounges on the end of the couch in a pair of breezy shorts, legs stretched out far and another beer in his hand.

Quietly eating the snacks he gave you, you keep your body curled up on the other end of the couch. You’d both changed into more comfortable clothing, and while you were fully clothed, it made a strange feeling bubble inside you to wear such short shorts near him. You had no problem wearing these shorts around friends, but with Gojo it felt different.

“I’ve never seen this before.” He comments offhandedly, swaying his leg side to side as the opening credits roll. “What’s it about?” He glances over at you and for a moment you think he’s staring at your bare legs, but then he’s making eye contact with you.

“Uhm…” Biting your lip, a wave of bashfulness goes over you. “It’s a romantic comedy.”

“Ah.” Nodding like he understands, he returns his attention to the screen. Your fingers twitch, wanting to grab the remote and change it to something more highbrow. Something that a grown up like Gojo would enjoy.

As the movie goes on, you’re painfully aware of every line that’s said. Usually, this film can make your heart race with how romantic it usually is, but now it’s just making you cringe. Taking a look at Gojo, he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“Woah, pretty steamy.” He chuckles at a scene, and you rip your eyes away to see what he means. Two characters are passionately kissing on screen, their hands gripping each other's clothing so roughly it looks like they might tear.

“We can fast forward.” As heat rises to your cheeks, you reach for the remote.

“No, it’s okay.” Grabbing your wrist to stop you, Gojo shrugs. “I don’t mind.” The feeling of his fingers wrapped around you lingers long after he’s let go. Watching the same hand go back to resting on his lap, the tips of his fingers just barely touching his thighs, makes more heat come to your face.

As the story progresses, you try to forget about the scene entirely. You’re able to let your body relax, even stretch out your legs onto the portion of the couch that’s been left unoccupied. There are a few more kissing scenes and they all make you nervous and bring your eyes to Gojos face to watch his reaction.

“I can feel you staring.” Gojo grins like a fool and turns to you, catching you right in the act.

“S-sorry.” Hiding him from view with your hand, you stare at the floor and try to push down the shame at being caught. Gojo laughs, an easy sound aided by the alcohol in his system, and his hand comes down to graze the top of your foot.

“What’s in that head of yours, little girl?” His hand firmly grabs your ankle, playfully pushing your leg side to side as he waits for an answer.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s something.” He immediately counters, and the hand on your ankle tugs at you. “Let’s see, you only look at me when there’s kissing…” Putting more weight into his grip, he lets out a hum. “Are you trying to tell me you want a kiss?”

“No!” Gasping loudly, your head snaps to attention and instantly you regret it from the way a smirk seems permanently placed on Gojos face. He doesn’t say anything, just watches as you try to curl away from him.

“Sheesh, way to make me feel special.” Lightly scratching your leg, Gojo puffs out his chest a little. “I’ll have you know plenty of people have said I’m a great kisser.” A devilish look overtakes his face, a new thought having popped into his head. “I bet you haven’t even had your first kiss, huh?”

The noise you let out is stupid and unintelligible, and it tells Gojo all he has to know. The hand on your ankle goes a little higher to grab your shin and this time when he tugs at you, your body moves slightly.

“So what if I haven’t?” You try to save whatever dignity you have left by forcing your voice to be stern, but with a slight underlying waver it gives you away. When you make eye contact with Gojo now, you see his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and a look in his eyes that brings that ache back between your legs.

“How about we change that then?” He poses his words like a question but there’s not even the illusion of a choice presented. He sits up a little straighter in his seat, the shorts on his thighs riding up just a bit, and pulls on your leg again.

“I…” The tips of your fingers are tingling, nerves firing off at every possible point as you follow his lead. Sitting up on your knees, Gojo is quick to shuffle you over to him. His hands on your hips help steady you as you settle across his lap, and they quickly wrap your arms around his neck when he senses hesitation from you.

“Just let me do all the work, okay?” He whispers, voice just loud enough over the movie still playing in the back. His hand spreads across your lower back, pushing you closer to the apex of his legs. With a hand on the back of your head, he pulls you down to meet his lips.

Kissing Gojo was just as good as you imagined it to be. His mouth fit perfectly against yours, sliding on your skin and making your eyes fall shut. A soft groan leaves your mouth the longer he’s pressed against you, and your fingers weave into his hair. It’s unclear how long this simple lip lock lasts until you become hungry for more.

Carefully, your lips part. There’s a part of your brain that’s screaming out about your lack of experience, desperate to preserve your dignity and not make a fool of yourself. Pushing past that, the tip of your tongue presses against Gojos closed mouth.

“I thought I said to let me do the work.” Pulling away from you, Gojo clicks his tongue. “Such an eager little girl, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Keeping your eyes closed, you nod breathlessly. Shifting on his lap, you fully seat yourself onto him. With your ass pressing onto his legs, you can feel something hard and hot just out of reach in his pants.

With a chuckle Gojo kisses you again. Readjusting his grip on your head, he tilts it to the side and opens his mouth. He doesn’t need to do much more besides that and your mouth is already open. His tongue slides into your mouth at the same time his hand grabs your ass, and you moan because of both of them.

Instinct takes over any thoughts in your brain, all the worry and doubts you had dashed away. On shaky legs, you rut your hips forward onto Gojo, the friction catching on your clit. His tongue has barely made a home for itself in your mouth, and here you are humping him.

Letting go of your head, both hands clamp down on your ass. He forces you to slow down to an almost complete stop and he swallows the whine that comes out of your throat. Securing his feet onto the floor, Gojo gently pushes his hips up while he rocks you forward, and the noise you let out is one he will never forget.

The pace he sets is agonizingly slow, nothing like the one you’d had. Every brush of your body against his has your skin erupting in goosebumps and heat flashes across your body. Fingers tug his hair harder when the grip on your ass gets tighter, and you nearly throw yourself onto him more than you already have.

You don’t even realize the tiny little whimpers coming out of your mouth in a steady rhythm until they turn to wanton moans, a clunky sound you’re unsure about but make all the same. Gojo makes sound too, a deep grumble in his chest that manages to outdo you.

Time is lost with your lips against his. The movie that’s playing has long been forgotten, playing to an audience of no one. It’s soundtrack is a distant entity, muffled by the ringing in your ears and the heat accumulating between your bodies.

“G-gojo.” You pull back with a face hot as fire and eyes closed softly. A plea is on the tip of your tongue, and although you don’t know what you want, you’re ready to beg for it all the same. Gojo chases your lips, capturing them again for another searing kiss that makes you feel drunk.

He hums when he finally sets you free, the cool air from his nose fanning over your face. Forcing his body to relax, Gojo lets go of your ass and drops his hands to his sides. Letting his head fall back onto the couch, he blinks owlishly at the ceiling.

“Would you look at the time, it’s past your bedtime.”

“What?” Turning to look at the clock on the wall, your blood runs cold when you see what time it is. Grabbing his limp hands, you try to put them back on your body. “No, no forget about that.”

“I can’t. Little girls need to go to sleep when it’s time.” Gojo is fighting back a vicious smirk, forcing his face to remain as neutral as he can.

“Gojo, no!” You cry, bouncing on his lap like a child. His body remains limp as you attempt to engage him in another kiss, and frustrated tears rise in your eyes. “C’mon!” Your eyes flicker between his and you nearly throw yourself off his lap. “This isn’t fair!”

“Throwing a tantrum? I thought you were more mature than that.” Standing up and stretching his impossibly long limbs, Gojo clicked his tongue and flicked the TV off.

“Whatever.” Head clouded with lust and pent up frustration, you stormed out of the room much to Gojos pleasure. He followed after you slowly, stopping in the hallway when you get to your door.

“I don’t get a kiss goodnight?” He teases, and if looks could kill he’d be dead by now. The pout on your lip is almost negated by your puffy eyes straining to hold back tears. Laughing under his breath he walks up to you and pats your head. “Sleep well, little girl.”

“Yeah.” Nodding your head, you close your door and all but fall into bed. Your whole body is tense and unable to relax, the throbbing between your legs too much to ignore. Stripping down and crawling defeatedly under the blankets, you stare up at the dark ceiling.

Curling your fist, you punch the bed twice before shoving a hand between your legs. Your cunt is soaked all from a little bit of kissing, and in any other circumstance you’d be embarrassed. But this time, the only thing you could feel was an indescribable need to touch yourself.

Biting your lip hard between your teeth, your legs spread a little to accommodate the new arrival. There’s slick coating your skin, making everything a sticky mess. Inexperienced fingers press against your swollen clit and you gasp loudly.

“Shit.” A whine leaves your throat at the first touch, and your fingers rub clumsily along yourself. Pushing your head back against the pillows you try to recreate the feeling of grinding on Gojos lap. Every so often that spark hits you, but it’s not enough to get off to.

Slowly, you push a finger inside yourself, and then two. With a strain in your wrist you know you’ll feel tomorrow, you thrust your fingers in and out of your cunt. The wet clicking sound of your fingers is unmissable and you're quickly brought to a messy, uncoordinated orgasm.

“Shit.” You swear again, finally able to relax your body. Wiping your fingers on your blankets, you toss and turn to get into a comfortable position. The orgasm you had brought you some reprieve, but in the back of your mind you know it would have been better if Gojo had done it.

Waking up in the morning with the mess between your legs makes a wave of second hand embarrassment wash over you. Dressing quickly, it’s both a relief and a disappointment that Gojo has work during the day, early enough that you don’t see him in the morning.

Eating breakfast and lunch alone, there’s still a feeling in your body that won’t dissipate. The ache between your legs isn’t as strong as last night, but it’s still there, sitting in your body and ruining your underwear.

Your eyes keep staring at the clock, counting down the minutes until Gojo returns. There were other things you could have been doing, things that were more productive with your time, but every time you tried to move on it was impossible to focus and you found yourself back in the same spot.

When Gojo was nearly home, you sprung into action with a half baked plan. He’d texted you asking if you wanted takeout again or a home cooked meal, and you replied immediately that you would be cooking dinner. The only incentive you had to cook was to show him how responsible you were, and to make up for your show of emotions last night.

“(Y/N), I’m home!” Gojo announced as he opened the door. Toeing his shoes off, he waited for an answer or for you to appear before him, but he was left alone in the entryway. Walking past the lounge room, you weren’t there, and he was surprised to find you in the kitchen.

“Hi.” Giving him a quick wave, you kept your attention on the stove. His gaze lingered on you, a half smile on his face, but Gojo said nothing and left the room. You could hear him moving around the house, going to his room and changing into casual clothes and using the toilet before returning to you.

“So, what’re you making?” Standing close to you on the stove, he leaned over your body. His head brushed your temple and your breath hitched.

“J-just something easy.” You squeaked, painfully aware of how his hands settled onto the counters, trapping you against the stove and his body. He hummed but made no other response, and you just stood there together.

“Ya know, it’s kinda like you’re my little housewife, cooking for me after a long day of work.” His comment made you gasp. A million different scenarios ran through your head, all of them where you really were his wife in a house you shared together.

Keeping your lips pressed together to spare the sanity you had left, you nodded as a response. Gojo chuckled and got closer, placing his hands on your hips. Jumping when you felt his nose brush against your neck, you couldn’t move a muscle to question him.

“Having you as a housewife doesn’t sound too bad, now that I think about it.” His breath was loud in your ear, and so was the kiss he planted behind it. His teeth scraped against your neck, and he sucked lightly on your skin before letting you go. “Looks like it’s almost ready. I’ll go set the table.”

As soon as Gojo untangled himself from you, you let out a staggered sigh. With shaky fingers you turned the stove off and took the food off the heat, your eyes glued to the pan so he wouldn’t see your mortified face. Bringing the food to the table quickly, you stared at the table as you ate.

“So, do you like it?” You asked when he was more than halfway done.

“I do.” Propping his elbow on the table, Gojo flashed you a big smile. “I love whatever my little housewife makes for me.” Slapping a hand over your face in embarrassment, you sunk into your chair when he let out a laugh at your expense.

When dinner was over, Gojo insisted on helping you clean up. Rolling up his sleeves and pressing his body right against your back, he promised to do a good job washing the dishes, but he kept grabbing your hand and tangling your fingers together. By the time you finished, nearly an hour had passed and the ache between your legs was killing you.

“Come sit and watch the game with me.” He mumbled, grabbing a beer from the fridge and going to the lounge room.

“What game?” You followed him obediently, standing next to the couch as he took a seat.

“Baseball. I placed a few bets on tonight's game and I wanna win.” Cracking open the can, he took a long drink. “Come sit down.” Spreading his legs, he pat his thigh loudly.

“Okay.” Hesitantly climbing onto his lap, your hands gripped his arm as he pulled you flush against him. Gojos' chin rest on your shoulder, making you lay on his chest and feel every time he drew a breath.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.” He whispers once a commercial hits.

“R-really?”

“Mhmm.” The arm around your middle tightens up. “Been thinking about kissing those pretty lips of yours.” You tried to turn your head to look at him, but he wouldn’t budge. Squirming in his lip made him groan, the vibrations traveling across your back. “What’re you doing, little girl?”

“I wanna kiss you.” At your admittance, Gojo lets you go and helps you turn around in his lap. The position is a familiar one, and your ass nestles against his thighs. Going in for a kiss, your brows furrow when he dodges your lips.

“Once there’s a pause in the game I’ll kiss you.” He says off-handedly, pushing your face out of the way.

“But-”

“Shh.” With a pinch to your ass, Gojo shuts down any protest. The same frustration you felt last night was coming back, coupled with annoyance at being ignored. You tried again to kiss Gojo, but he dodged you again.

“Fine.” Pinching him back, you practically collapsed in his lap. Watching the game over your shoulder, you truly couldn’t care less about it, but you needed to know the second there was a break.

But it seemed like there would never be one. Even when a commercial came, Gojo would keep your head pressed against his chest, stopping you from doing anything other than trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Gojo!” You cried, growing frantic. “Stop being mean!”

“Mean? I would never be mean to you.” He gasped dramatically. Letting you sit up, the smirk he had on his face had your fingers itching to slap him. Grabbing your chin, he pursed your lips and finally kissed you.

The taste of the beer on his tongue was something you could ignore when it entered your mouth. Getting what you wanted at last was the only thing on your mind. Your hands found their spot in his hair again, and you kept him pressed to you even when he tried to pull away.

“Someone’s needy, huh?” Gojo chuckled, finally able to break free and breathe.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day too.” The words fell out of your mouth before you had the chance to think.

“Oh, really?” Gojo quirked a brow. Resting his head in his hand, he licked his lips. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking then.”

“Uhm…” Suddenly feeling shy, you look down at his lap. You can see the outline of his cock straining against his pants and it makes you lick your lips. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you and-” A quick glance up makes your face flush with heat. “And about how you make me feel.”

“How’s that?” He presses, sliding a hand to your ass.

“I get all hot and sweaty, and that place starts to hurt.” Your hand does a vague gesture down to your crotch and it makes Gojo chuckle.

“That place? Do you mean your pussy?” Screwing your eyes closed at his question, you nod. Gojo lets out a little coo, his fingers affectionately squeezing your ass. “You poor baby, I bet it’s just a mess down there.”

“Yeah.” Spreading your legs further across his lap, you try to get comfortable with the wetness that had pooled in your underwear.

“What a shame.” Gojo clicks his tongue, and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you again. But then his eyes dart to the TV and his body tenses. “Oh shit, I think I might win this game!”

“Huh?” Blinking rapidly, you shift again on his lap and look over your shoulder. Whatever was happening had his full attention, and not even your kisses along his jawline can draw him back to you.

Gojo keeps you seated on his lap for the entirety of the game, every so often kissing you like you wanted, just enough to keep you from leaving but not enough to satisfy you. When the game is over, he repeats the process of yesterday and sends you to your room for your bedtime.

Waking up the next morning is a struggle after being blue balled for two days straight. It was like the release you’d given yourself the first night meant nothing because it wasn’t done by Gojo. Stumbling into the kitchen in a shirt and shorts, you bumped straight into Gojo.

“Hey sleepy head.” He ruffles your hair affectionately, his eyes quite obviously staring right at your ass skirted by the hem of your shorts.

“Hey.” Leaning your head against his chest, you give him a sleepy hug.

“Still tired?” Gojo feigns like he’s interested in whatever you have to say while his hands go under your shirt. The pads of his fingers press into your lower back for a moment before sliding up.

Leaning back a little, you move your arms out of the way for him to bring his hands to your front. His palms cup your breasts, just as hot as your flesh. Grazing your nipples with his thumbs, Gojo hums to himself and nods.

“Can I see?” Gojo asks, slowly tugging up your shirt.

“Yeah.” You nod. He folds up your shirt and pushes the fabric into your mouth, letting go when you bite down. Your fingers are holding up the rest of your shirt, and Gojo squeezes your arms together, making your breasts push together.

“What pretty tits you have.” Leaning down, Gojo presses a kiss to the center of your chest, and another atop both breasts. You’re quick to say a muffled thank you and Gojo kisses you again. His nose is pressed onto your chest and it’s all he can do to pull away and pull your shirt out of your mouth. “Do you want some breakfast?”

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” You ask instead, blindly finding a seat at the dining table.

“I’m going in a little later today for a meeting.” Stepping up to the stove, Gojo sweeps his arm over the assorted ingredients he’s set out. “Now, do you want an omelette?”

When Gojo returns home the next few days after work, it’s either long after your bedtime or he’s too tired to do anything more than go to bed. He was caught up in meetings and late night work functions, leaving no time or energy to spend with you. When the weekend finally comes, you don’t even see him until the evening.

“Hey.” He opens his bedroom door the moment you open the bathroom door, a cloud of steam billowing out around you.

“H-hey.” Caught off guard by his sudden appearance, you grip the towel tighter to your body. His eyes flick down to your skin, slightly damp and smelling sweetly of your body wash. Your body moves on it’s own when he takes a step forward, pressing yourself against the doorframe.

“It’s been a while.” He’s in front of you in just a few short strides. Lithe fingers trace your neck, making you shiver as a tingle goes through you. His hand cups your face, turning it up to him. “I’ve missed you, little girl.”

Gojo kisses you before you have time to answer. What usually starts as a gentle kiss is far gone, replaced with a hunger behind his lips that leaves you trembling. His tongue slides into your mouth with ease, roaming all around your mouth while his teeth clink into yours.

Your thighs are spread apart by his knee shoving between them, and your fingers nearly drop the towel to grab onto him. His knee is pressed right against your cunt, grinding deliciously onto you.

“Gojo!” You gasp when he lets you free. Air rushes into your lungs and is expelled just as fast. His teeth sink into the side of your neck, sucking hard on the skin and lapping up any lingering water droplets. “Gojo, please, I-”

“I know.” He grunts, sucking on the junction of your neck and shoulder. A rough groan leaves his lips and his knee drops, replaced by the hard on straining against his pants. Rough hands rush to bundle up your towel around your hips.

“Fuck, look at you.” Gojo growls, his eyes staring directly at your cunt. “What a pretty little pussy.”

“Gojo!” Throwing your head back, you nearly sob his name when he ruts his hips into you. His hands are digging marks into your hips and thighs with every thrust, and if it weren’t for his body holding you up, you would have crumpled to the floor.

All the sensations are too much, mounting pleasure in your body that threatens to take over. One hand is mindlessly clutching the towel, needing something to ground you in the moment that’s quickly getting away from you.

“Shit.” After sucking a harsh mark into your skin, Gojo stops completely. He stands painfully still, his own orgasm nearly barreling over him. Wrenching his hands off your body, he fixes your towel and takes a tiny step back. Licking his lips, Gojo runs a hand through his hair.

“W-why’d you stop?” Looking up at him with wide eyes, your chest is heaving as you catch your breath.

“I don’t want to blow my load right now, that’d be kind of embarrassing don’t you think?”

“I guess.” At a loss for words, you watch helplessly as he takes another step back. The tent in his pants is painfully obvious. “So when? When can we…” Your eyes bounce around the room, skirting around the question.

“Soon, I promise.” Adjusting his pants, Gojo flicks his head to your bedroom. “Now go get dressed, wouldn’t want you to catch a cold standing out here.”

It’s nearly three days before Gojo kisses you again. He doesn’t kiss you, but he does everything else to you that he wants to do. Shoving you against the wall and fondling your ass before he leaves for work. Grabbing at your tits when you’re cooking or washing dishes. Making you perch your ass on his lap when he’s watching another baseball game, his fingers drawing patterns on your thighs.

“Gojo!” Finally, it’s your turn to corner him in the hallway. Blocking his way to the rest of the house, you cross your arms and fix him with your strongest glare.

“Yes?”

“I need you!” Stamping your foot, you know it looks childish, but you need to get your point across. Biting his lip, Gojo steps up to you, giving you a once over.

“Need me how?”

“You know how!” His question shakes your confidence a little, enough to make you break eye contact with him and look at the wall.

“I don’t think I do.” Rocking on his heels, Gojo shrugs dramatically.

“Like- like-” Dropping your arms, you do the only thing you know will work: you shove your hand onto his crotch, palming at his cock and making him jump. “Like this!”

“Woah, little girl.” He’s quick to grab your wrist, but he doesn’t pull your hand away.

“Please!” The whine you’d been fighting back comes out, and it’s music to Gojos ears. “You always do stuff and it makes me feel funny and I really need you.” The frustration makes tears well in your eyes as you look up at him, and he pouts his lip at you.

“Oh poor baby.” Taking your hand away from him, Gojo turns to your room. “Let’s go then. Seems I’ve been playing with you too long.” Rushing to your room, you sit eagerly on the edge of your bed. “Lay down.” He gently pushes your shoulder back, and your head hits the pillow.

Climbing on top of you, Gojo nestles his body against yours and kisses you. Gripping his shoulders tightly, you pull him down harder. The drought he’d put you through had driven you crazy, causing you to dream about his lips on you.

His tongue slid into your mouth quickly, tangling with yours and knocking his teeth with yours. The tips of his fingers skirted around the edge of your shirt for just a moment before delving deeper. Sliding his hand under your bra, Gojo tweaked your nipple.

Making quick work of your shirt, Gojo sat on his heels and peeled his top off. Your eyes were glued to his body, catching every little twitch of his muscles and dip and curve of his chest. He chuckled at your mesmerized face and leant down, taking your nipple into his mouth.

Grabbing your other breast, Gojo worked both your nipples to full hardness, alternating on sucking them into his mouth. The moans that came from your mouth were music to his ears, and your hips blindly rutted against him.

Flicking your nipples with his tongue one last time, Gojo kissed down your chest. Reaching your bottoms, he didn’t need to tell you to lift your hips up, your hands were already pulling them off with him.

“Shit.” Gojo breathed, laying between your legs. Your inner thighs and cunt were covered in your slick, and the heady aroma had Gojo eager to stick his tongue inside you. Sliding his hands underneath your thighs, he set them on his shoulders.

Spreading your lips with his thumbs, Gojos tongue flicked your clit, making your hips nearly shoot off the bed. Your hands immediately wound into the sheets as he continued his ministrations.

“Gojo, please.” You cried, growing tired of the little flicks he was giving you.

“Be patient, baby.” He replied, quickly sucking your clit into his mouth. Your thighs tried to close around his head but his hold on your body was strong. Digging his hands into you, Gojo pulled your cunt closer to his mouth.

Shoving his tongue into you, Gojo lapped tirelessly at your gummy walls, loudly swallowing your essence mixed with his saliva. His nose rubbed your clit, relentless in his pursuit in tasting you. Muffled groans came from his mouth, the vibrations adding to the pleasure.

Pressing his thumb against your clit, he rubbed it furiously. Gojos eyes were screwed closed as he worked you to your first orgasm, his jaw beginning to ache from the force he put behind his tongue.

“Gojo-” Your body tensed up as the orgasm hit you. The fingers gripping the sheets threatened to tear them, your nails digging dangerously into the fabric. A loud, drawn out moan left you and your eyes rolled back.

“Fuck yes, baby.” Gojo wrenched your thighs open and sat up on his elbow. His thumb on your clit didn’t slow down, milking you through your orgasm. When your body relaxed, Gojo shoved his fingers into you, too worked up himself to worry about stretching you out properly.

The two fingers he had inside you stuffed you more than your own fingers ever could. Your walls stretched to fit around the long digits, clenching hard around him. His thumb pressed against your clit again and he began to move his fingers in and out of you at a steady rhythm.

The overstimulation from your first orgasm gave way to pleasure the more he fucked you on his fingers. Gojos palm slapped against your sex with every thrust, mixing with your moans and echoing around the room.

The second orgasm came much quicker than the first, and it was tinged with pain at the edge of your senses. Letting out a loud groan at the feeling of your walls milking his fingers, Gojo pulled out and sat back, roughly ripping his shorts off and exposing his leaking cock to the air.

“Think you can take my cock, baby?” He asked, gripping his cock hard at the base.

“Yes, please!”

“Good answer.” Grabbing your hands, he placed them under your thighs and pressed them to your chest. “Be a good girl and hold your legs for me.” Eager to please, you got a good hold on your thighs and waited.

Both of you stared at his cock lining up with your slit. Taking his time, Gojo pushed the tip past the tight ring of muscle and thrust softly, slowly working you to take his whole cock.

“How does it feel?” He asked, laughing breathlessly.

“Strange.” Your answer made him laugh more.

“Am I the first one to fuck this pretty pussy?”

“Yeah.” A wicked grin spreads across Gojos face and he leans between your legs to kiss your forehead.

“This old man sure feels special.”

“You’re not old!” You gasp, loosening your hold on your legs. “Not at all!”

“Legs, baby.” He taps your hands and you quickly right yourself. Pressing his hands into the pillow beneath your head, Gojo forces your legs to bend a little more. “I’m a dirty old man compared to you.”

“No-” You go to protest again, but the sharp snap of his hips into yours cuts you off. Your head immediately falls back, exposing the column of your throat for Gojo to lean forward and kiss. He pulls back again, making sure you feel the full length of his cock before snapping forward again.

Gojo thrusts into you with no mercy, lust clouding his senses and any reason in his head. Your walls are so tight, they almost grip him enough to stop him from pulling out again. He’s waited so long to feel you wrapped around him, and now that he has you he doesn’t want to waste a single second.

His heavy balls slap against your ass with each thrust, adding to the cacophony of sounds mixing together in your room. Your slick is being fucked out of you and dripping down between your ass and onto his balls, creating a damp spot beneath you.

“Such a good little girl.” Gojo pants, cupping your face with his hand. Swiping his thumb across your lower lip, he grins when you take it into your mouth and suck hard on it. “Taking my cock so well, like you were made for it.”

“Mhmm!” Nodding, you let go of one leg to hold onto his hand, lacing a few fingers together. Pressing his thumb against your tongue, Gojo pulled your mouth open and pursed his lips. Letting his saliva drip down into your mouth, he felt a swell of pride watching you swallow it immediately.

Your hand slid off your leg, the sweat accumulating on your body making you lose your grip. With your feet dangling near Gojos head, he pressed a quick kiss to your ankle before digging his hands underneath your ass and angling your hips up.

“Fuck!” You squeal loudly at the new angle and your hands scramble to push against Gojos hips. “T-too much!” Gojo barks out a laugh and swats your hands away, pining one to your side as he pounds into you.

“Shit, how’d you get even tighter, little girl? I can barely pull out.”

“Gojo, please!” Tears begin to gather on your lashes from the onslaught of pleasure, and you let out a short yelp at feeling his fingers against your puffy clit. “Please, please it’s- fuck-” Your head thrashed against the pillows, unable to run away from the feeling.

“Be good and squirt on my cock.” Gojo growled. He was close to cumming himself, your cunt that he’d denied himself for so long was just as good as he imagined it to be. It was all he could do to make sure you came before he filled you to the brim with his cum.

“Stop I’m gonna- Gojo- pee, I’m gonna-” You babbled mindlessly, tongue falling out of your mouth and making drool coat your chin. Seeing your fucked out face had Gojos racing heart pounding even harder.

Hunching over, he forced your legs to nearly touch your head as he rutted into you. Barely pulling his cock out all the way, Gojo worked your clit in his fingers and was rewarded with a high pitched moan, akin to a scream in his ear.

“Fuck-” He grunted. The force of your orgasm was nearly pushing his cock out all the way, your juices gushing around him. Sinking his teeth into your leg, Gojo came inside your spasming cunt, fucking his cum out with yours.

You were nearly sobbing by the time he fully stopped thrusting. Your body ached all over, muscles that had been pulled taut were finally being released and allowed to relax. Gojo slid your legs off his shoulders as he panted for breath.

Slowly pulling out of you, he stared at his softening cock absolutely covered in your release. His entire lower region was glistening in the light of the room and the wet spot on the bed was much bigger now.

Sliding out of the room quietly, he returned with a damp towel. Quickly wiping himself, he gingerly wiped down your sex, letting out little giggles when your body twitched uncontrollably. Setting the towel to the side, he smiled down at you.

“Hey little girl.” His grin turned into a full toothed smile at seeing your dazed face, drunk off his fuck and cum. A dopey smile spread across your face and you lifted a tired hand to grab at his. Giggling bashfully, you pressed your face into the pillow to get away from his stare.

“What?” You asked, feeling your cheeks heat as he continued to look at you.

“Nothing, just looking at my pretty girl.” Squeezing your hand, Gojos eyes glance at the wet spot on the bed. “Ya know, it’s almost your bedtime, and I can’t have you sleeping in a wet bed.” Humming like you were following along, you giggled again when his hand squeezed your waist.

“What?”

“Are you listening to me?” Gojo chuckled, squeezing you again and making you jump. “Come sleep in my room with me.”

“Okay.” Helping you stand, Gojo led you to his bedroom. Even though it was the guest room, it felt like he had always lived in this room. It smelled of him, and his clothes were everywhere. Flopping onto the bed, you yawned as soon as your head hit the pillow. “Gojo.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry.” Gojo snorted loudly and nodded. Helping you under the covers, he slid on a pair of shorts.

“Alright, I’ll get you a snack. Try to stay awake.” You give him a lopsided thumbs up that makes him snort again. Turning on his heels, he knows as soon as he comes back, you’ll be passed out and snoring into his pillow. And he’s right.

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