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spiderlily-w1tch-blog · 2 months ago

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𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚞 𝙷𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚜𝚑𝚒 - 𝙿𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝙴𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

Ft Bakugou; Ft Gang|Mafia; ft stolen|payback, cock-warming, fingering

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own BNHA or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 3,482

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: includes jealous Bakugou. (yes, that’s a warning, lol) also technically infidelity/disloyalty, minimal use of Y/n, 3rd Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔦 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: it’s up to your interpretation if you and Bakugou were actually dating or if you were just his good little cock sleeve or what have you, tho you are referred to as ‘his girl’ + Reader is mentioned to have a Shadow Quirk, though what that entails is left up to y’all :),,, Did I quote Yung Gravy? Yes. Yes I did. Am I ashamed? A little bit. Would I do it again? Oh fuck yes.

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

Hitoshi sat comfortably in his large chair at the head of the table, seemingly a throne in its own right. He waited smugly for his guest to arrive. Suddenly, he heard the telltale sign of his guest’s aggravated pounding on his door. Hitoshi nodded at Denki to answer the door, knowing that him answering the door would piss his guest off even more.

Surely enough, he soon heard the growls and almost-yells paired with stomping, and the angry blonde made his appearance in his meeting hall.

“Bakugou. Glad you could make it. I hope my little subordinate was good to you.” The purple-haired man smirked at the deepening scowl on his rival’s face.

“You fucking did that on purpose you purple-haired asshole,” Bakugou growled, planting himself in one of the chairs at Hitoshi’s table, 3 chairs down from him.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he feigned innocence.

“What the fuck ever. What did you call me here for, jackass?”

“So rude to your host!” Neito laughed from behind Hitoshi’s ‘throne’.

“Oh, fuck off, copycat bastard!” Hitoshi’s easy, teasing grin immediately fell, a scowl replacing it.

“I couldn’t give a fuck what you say to me or about me, but don’t you ever insult my men. If you say one more thing about them, well.. just remember you’re in my house now, bitch. I got all my guns trained on you. Don’t forget that shit.” He bit out at the blonde, glaring into his eyes for a mere moment before his easy demeanor returned like a switch was flipped. “Well, while I’ve got you here, maybe you should meet my newest addition,” he stopped and looked in amusement as Bakugou froze for only a split second at the prospect of a new unknown, “Y/n.”

“What. What the hell are you doing with my girl?” His harsh eyes set on Hitoshi who feigned surprise at the “new” information.

“Your girl? You mean I know your girl? You talking about Y/n?” He got a gruff, nearly pissed, growl of confirmation, “Nah nah nah, you mean.. you mean Y/n with the ass? Y/n with the.. with the shadow quirk?”

“Yes! That’s fuckin’ her!”

“Shit,” Hitoshi mocked remorse before beckoning with a motion, the aforementioned girl, who walked out of the hallway in nothing but kitten-themed lingerie. ‘Fucking predictable of that cat-obsessed bastard!’ Ran through Bakugou’s mind, “Oops, baby,” he taunted the fellow Yakuza Leader, “guess I fucked your bitch, baby, oopsie daisy,” She reached him and easily slid into his lap with a curl of his fore and middle fingers as he kept talking, “never knew she was your boo, baby.” He barely held back a cocky look that would have surely caused the blonde to tackle him, regardless of the dozens of guns and bodyguards trained on him, as he flaunted the girl that Bakugou supposedly ‘owned’ or whatever shit he thought.

She sat back-to-chest with him, facing Bakugou with a small, deceptively sweet smile as she leaned wholly into the purple-haired man behind her. As Hitoshi smoothed his hands over her skin, rubbing on the inside of her thighs, parting them easily, Bakugou finally noticed that the lingerie had nothing covering her pussy.

“Doesn’t she just look ravishing? Good enough to eat.” Hitoshi nipped at her neck and continued to tease the man, sliding his hands further up the insides of her thighs until his fingers were framing her pretty pussy. “She feels even better. Oh! But I’m sure you know that already,” He smirked as he slowly, deliberately worked his fingers to toy with her glistening outer folds. She hummed at the feeling and kept her low-lidded eyes trained on the blonde whose jaw looked like it was only a moment from cracking with how hard he was clenching his teeth.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing? What the fuck are you hoping to accomplish with this shitty ass little stunt?” Bakugou growled lowly, his voice quiet but nonetheless threatening. A promise laced into his words that would have sent any sane person running for the hills and already made them shit themselves. But Hitoshi wasn’t exactly what most people would call sane. He was a Yakuza Leader after all, one that blatantly “stole” Bakugou’s girl. The one who was hardly seen away from his side, the one he flaunted at every meeting he had to attend. The girl who took his cock whenever he demanded it or when she just picked up that he needed it. The one that he liked best out of all his girls, the ones who threw themselves at his feet.

No, Hitoshi didn’t fear the blonde in the slightest. Even if it was known that Bakugou rarely— if ever— made empty threats, much less when it came to his toys, he treated them like they were more harmless than threats of a child’s tantrum. His confidence in this situation skyrocketed when he so easily got her to follow him back to his base and to his side. How willingly— though not easy like those jealous dickhead rival (wannabe) leaders proclaimed— she followed his whims and dressed up so pretty for him. So pretty in her little panties that framed her pretty pussy so wonderfully, the top that barely covered more than her perky nipples, and the pretty little accessories that made her look like the perfect good girl. Like his good girl.

“Accomplish? I’m not aiming to accomplish anything. Except to maybe show you that anything you can do, I can do better. Anything you think you own can be taken in a second. That I can take it. You think that just because you have something that no one can touch it. You think you’re so scary and intimidating that no one will even try. But I’m here to show you that you. are. not.” Hitoshi emphasized his words by plunging two fingers into her pussy with each one to really get his words to sink in.

His words started as playful but got more serious as he went on. The sternness in his voice sent a bolt of pleasure down the girl’s spine and she shivered against him. Hitoshi seemed to understand and dipped his head slightly to press a light kiss to her shoulder and one to her neck and a quick nip at her earlobe before he sat back up straight. He kept his fingers lazily moving in and out of her tight wet heat, keeping her satiated but leaving her wanting— needing more.

“If just having her here isn’t enough to convince you, maybe she can help with a demonstration. Isn’t that right, baby?” He muttered into her ear with a husky growl that made her shiver with a gasp and a pleased smile as she nodded.

“Yea. I think we can do that.” She spoke with a sultry voice, purposely trying to piss off Bakugou more.

“Good girl,” He purred and kissed her cheek, sending a teasing glance at Bakugou out of the side of his eye. “Why don’t you help me out a bit, baby?” Hitoshi cooed into her ear and slowly slid his fingers out of her cunt. She bit back a whine of protest at his fingers’ retreat and slid out of his lap, making a show of her movements and showing off her cunt to Bakugou. Even moreso, she made her movements deliberate to bend at the waist first to flash her cunt at him, within arms’ reach but before he could even think about reaching out, she bend her knees to kneel in front of Hitoshi, eye level with his crotch.

Flicking her gaze up at Hitoshi through her lashes, she saw the way he had his bottom lip tugged between his teeth and a smug look on his face as he watched her hands slide up his calves, over his knees, and up his thighs. Her touch grazed over the tent in his pants to reach the zipper of his slacks. Hitoshi groaned and shot her an amused, lazy grin as he groaned.

Bakugou watched the show and glared with a heavy gaze at the two and flitted his eyes around the room to send his glare at the members scattered around. They were mostly there as insurance that he wouldn’t attack or if he did they could stop him. They were clearly enjoying the benefits of being able to see the show, though. A good few of them were pretending not to watch, but the more physical reactions outed them anyways. Bakugou scowled at them but stayed put in his chair, the only noises from him were growls of clear displeasure with the situation.

Her fingers deftly found the button on his slacks and popped it open before slowly pulling the zip down. The sound was practically torturous for Bakugou as he watched his favorite girl maneuvering someone else out of their pants. Hitoshi, however, was clearly enjoying every moment that he got closer to feeling his girl in his favorite way. It was a very satisfying bonus that he could mess with Bakugou, of course.

“Gooood girl. You ready, baby?” He asked with a teasing lilt once she freed his cock from the confines of his briefs. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded up at him, slowly standing up. His hands immediately shot to her hips and lightly squeezed the flesh there, toying with the lace of her panties there. He pulled her to stand between his thighs as he leaned in and kissed her ribs, her stomach, her hip. He bit the little bow on the front of her panties and tugged teasingly as he maintained eye contact and let the elastic snap back to her soft skin. She giggled at his antics as he smirked in response and gently guided her back a step out from between his thighs.

“I’m ready ‘Toshi,” She smiled at him and he went straight into action, gently pulling her forward again and patted her thighs to signal her to climb into his lap. She happily obeyed and lifted a knee into the space between his outer thigh and the chair’s leather armrest, repeating the action with her other leg once she was settled in the crevice. He hummed in delight, having her in his lap, her dripping cunt hovering over his hard length.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby. This all for me, huh? Or is it just because your Ex is watching?” Hitoshi muttered sensually into her ear, a light teasing tone in his gravelly low voice. His words sent shocks up her spine and she practically purred at his voice.

“Mm-mm, just for you, ‘Toshi. Promise.” She told him with a whiny tone as his hands on her hips squeezed and groped her, his cock pressing heavy against her thigh. He smirked at that and kissed her as a reward, savoring her lips and the taste of her on his tongue. She subconsciously ground her hips down in midair and ended up pressing her leaking cunt against the head of his dick. They both moaned at the sensation, each capturing the sounds the other made with their lips still mingling.

They heard a growl from the blonde still sitting impatiently and annoyed beyond belief. Hitoshi chuckled against her mouth and squeezed her hips again, though he kept a firm grip that time, ready to move her hips as he pleased.

“So impatient,” He muttered into her ear with a teasing lilt that got a breathy giggle into his neck where she buried her burning face. He made eye contact with Bakugou over her shoulder and, holding his gaze like a challenge, he pulled her hips down and guided her onto his cock. Finally, he sunk fully in and tightened his grip when her walls pulsed around him. As she caught her breath, the hot gasps fanning against his neck just below his ear made him suppress a shiver, he eased his grip and stroked a gentle thumb over the skin soothingly as he knew she would have bruises by the morning. With his lax hold, she was able to shift around and ground down on his cock, barely lifting her hips in small movements that sent pleasure shooting up their spines.

His hands flexed into a steel grip once again, holding her in place as he tutted at her, “Oh, baby, stay still. Stay still for me, okay? I’ll reward you later if you’re a good girl and just sit here in my lap and keep me nice and warm. Yea? That sound good, baby? You gonna be my good girl?” His voice was heavy with desire and want and had a tug of neediness that he kept under wraps well enough. She lightly whined with a moan and buried her face in the juncture of his neck and shoulder but hummed in compliance anyways.

“Oki ‘Toshi…” Her words were slurred and heavy with whiny breath and it pissed Bakugou off even more. He gripped the arms of the chair so tightly that the wood creaked and groaned and was close to splintering. He watched her be so obedient for Hitoshi. Watched her be a perfect good girl for him. She stilled her hips as best she could manage, though her thighs quivered with the obvious urge to at least rock against him. Bakugou could tell by the muscles in her upper thighs and ass lightly tensing every so often that her cunt was twitching around Hitoshi’s fat cock, aching for stimulation.

His red eyes flicked up to meet lavender ones that flickered with amusement, taunting him, proclaiming ‘I won’ in deafening silence. Bakugou, to stop himself from acting rashly in a room full of people who had every reason and even more means to kill him where he stood, grit his teeth to the point that his jaw ached. He caught movement in his lower periphery and looked to see Hitoshi’s arms circle around her waist and held her against him as he traced shapes on her lower back, teasing at the hem of her pretty panties.

“Why don’t we continue with the meeting, huh? Let this good girl sit pretty while we talk.” It wasn’t an offer. Hitoshi would carry on with the meeting whether Bakugou liked it or not. And he did not. He averted his gaze and glared to the side where he caught that sparky blonde dumbass adjusting himself in his pants, trying to keep a professional image. It made the angry ash blonde wrinkle his nose in a scowl but shifted his stare back to the purple-haired asshole who had way too much fun teasing and provoking Bakugou.

“Fine. Talk, mind fucker.” He growled lowly, flitting his gaze between Hitoshi’s face and his hands that still teased at the pretty frills of her panties.

“I have a proposal.” That got Bakugou’s attention quick, “You can integrate into my group and you and I both get the whole territories.” He spoke, surprisingly easily and eloquently for having his cock stuffed in the tightest little pussy he’d ever felt.

“Tch. Let me guess. You’d still stay the boss and I’d have to be your fucking lapdog.” Red glared into purple with simmering fury.

“Not quite. You’d be higher in status than that. Much higher. You’d be my left-hand man. You still have full control of your guys and a certain amount of say over some of mine. I’ll be the big boss, yes, but you’d still have a good amount of power, too.” The offer was fairly appealing, though it still beat on Bakugou’s pride that he would have to be lower than someone, especially this fucker. His anger bubbled up again when he saw her gently twitch her hips, an unintentional movement from a desperate need to feel Hitoshi’s cock dragging against her walls and fucking her full and making her cum on his cock so many times before he spilled inside her that she would be fucked dumb and overstimulated.

Hitoshi paused for only a second and shifted one of his hands to squeeze her hip as a kind of warning. Bakugou closed his eyes to reel in his anger and pushed himself against the back of the chair. He opened his eyes to meet the direct gaze of Hitoshi, a small smirk on his lips that he at least had the decency to try and school given the offer he’d just proposed.

“So? What do you say?” He asked, voice still almost scarily even.

“I say Fuck. You. I ain’t no one's damn subordinate. I’m the goddamn leader and you best fuckin’ remember that, Mind Fucker.” Bakugou spat and hauled himself out of the chair that scraped against the marble floor from the force and speed he stood up with. He noticed all the gunmen around shift into attack stances, ready to tackle him or shoot him dead should he make a bad move. Shooting a glare at them all, he spun on his heel and started storming out of the room and towards the entryway before the grating voice he’d come to hate with such a vicious vigor.

“The offer is always on the table! Think it over, ‘kay? Who knows, if you show back up at my door, asking like a good boy, maybe the position with have certain.. Perks.” Hitoshi purred, disguising a deliberate roll of his hips into his good girl as simply shifting to get more comfortable, drawing a needy whine out of her that she tried to muffle in his neck. Bakugou felt his face heat up in what he decided was anger and nothing more and clenched his fists, boring holes into the floorboards outside the meeting room.

“Fuck off.” There was a minuscule quiver in his voice that he was secretly glad only Hitoshi and the girl in his lap picked up on. Before anything else could be said he sped out of the room and straight to the front door and to the driver waiting for him.

“Do you think he’ll accept, baby? Will he be a good boy and come back?” He kept the taunting tone in his voice after he had already slammed the door so hard it nearly shook the entire house. She hummed in thought and turned her head to untuck her face from the crook of his neck so her lips were just a hair’s breadth away from the spot just beneath his ear.

“Dunno. You teased ‘im a lot. ‘f he does it’ll be a while or ‘f sum’n big happ’ns.” She spoke as best she could with her mind in a haze from the feeling of being so full but not having the stimulation her pussy craved. He chuckled and leaned his head to the side to look down at her without bumping her with his chin and a soft, amused grin on his face.

“How come you’re so smart, baby? I thought I would have stuffed you full enough to make you my dumb little girl.” He teased her and craned his neck at an awkward angle to press a kiss to her lips. It seemed that her words used up the last of her senses as she could only lazily move her lips against his. Hitoshi turned his face back forward and chuckled at her, “That’s what I was thinking.

“Y’know you were such a good girl through all of that, baby. Did just what I said and stayed so still like I asked. I think you deserve a reward. Doesn’t she?” He quirked a brow and glanced at Denki and Neito who turned their gazes back to their boss and his girl the moment it was safe after Bakugou left. They stood more relaxed than the rest of his men who tried to keep an air of professionalism, but the tents in their pants gave them away, though he commended them for the effort.

“She has been very good, boss. I’d say a good girl deserves a good treat.” Denki spoke with a lazy grin, unabashedly letting his eyes slide over her back and linger where they were connected with a bite of his lip.

“Same here, she was waiting so pretty, didn’t even touch herself while she waited for your signal,” Neito smirked with a half-lidded gaze that shone with his satisfaction at her obedience. Hitoshi looked at her out of the corner of his eye and raised a proud brow.

“Oh, she didn’t? Well, that’s even better, baby. Hold on to me, baby. I’m gonna lift you up and give you a proper reward, ‘kay?” She hummed happily and wrapped her arms securely around his neck and squeezed her thighs around his hips to prepare to wrap her legs around him when he stood up. He huffed a small chuckle at her immediate, unquestioning obedience.

“That’s it. My good girl.”

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

@frosch-thefrog @hellsingalucard18

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asordinaryppl · 4 months ago

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A3! Backstage Story Translation - Sakyo Furuichi SSR: Preparing References For One Day In The Future - Part 1

Sakyo: …

Azami: …

Sakyo: … *sigh*

Azami: … What’s with you. You’re annoying with all this sighing.

Sakyo: Ahh?

Azami: I can’t focus on my homework.

Sakyo: … Sorry ‘bout that.

Azami: What’re you looking at that’s got you so troubled?

Kazunari: Maaaybe… You can’t come up with a reply to your bae!?

Azami: Bae?

Yuki: Someone he likes.

Azami: Ah~

Azami: … Wh-What!? You’re so shameless, shitty Sakyo!

Sakyo: *sigh*... This is ridiculous. I’m just trying to pick a gift for a wedding.

Sakyo: Someone I’m sorta indebted to got married. I’m having some trouble picking out a gift.

Azami: … That so.

Sakyo: I said all that and that’s your only reaction?

Azami: That reminds me, didn’t you say something about going to a wedding next week? Is that some other wedding?

Sakyo: Yeah, that’s a different wedding. And there’s even more besides those.

Sakyo: You won’t need to buy sweets for a while.

Azami: Why?

Sakyo: I’ll bring back some from the wedding. They’ll be high quality, too.

Yuki: Something about getting some stingy sweets from the money-grubbing yakuza doesn’t sit right with me, though.

Sakyo: Ahh?

Kazunari: But those wedding gift Baumkuchen were delish!

Yuki: Speaking of weddings… Didn’t the Director say something about being busy working at a wedding venue’s sound system?

Kazunari: ——

Kazunari: Hey, hey! Listen to this–

Izumi: I should confirm the BGM for the ceremony tomorrow.

Izumi: This song… is about adultery…! Hmmm, I guess I’ll listen to it to confirm.

Izumi: This one… seems pretty good~ Tears will fall if this plays during the letters.

[Door knocking]

Izumi: Yes?

Sakyo: Sorry for bothering you so late.

Izumi: It’s alright. Is something wrong?

Sakyo: … I’ve got a small favor I want to ask of you, Director-san.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

#a3!#translation #a3! translation #sakyo furuichi #yuki rurikawa #kazunari miyoshi #azami izumida #izumi tachibana #i've been holding this story hostage for almost 2 months im so sorry.

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boytoykevinday · 7 months ago

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can you pls explain what aftg is? 😭 everything i've heard makes it seem like a fever dream wattpad fic (affectionate)

i mean. yeah fever dream wattpad fic (affectionate) is a good way to describe it.

you got these books. you got a made up sport that doesn't really make sense. the first 3 books are from the pov of an 18 year old runaway orphan boy who lies as easy as he breathes. also his father is a literal serial killer (he is who this 18 year old orphan boy is running from)

runaway orphan boy signs with a college team that is pretty much a home for fucked up college kids. the foxes. they're bad but they just got this new kid who was the best exy (aforementioned made up sport) player in the world before he broke his hand. how did he break his hand? well, glad you asked.

you got this cult (sports team) that is run by the literal yakuza. new kid, who i will call prodigal son bc his mom invented the sport and he is referred to as the son of exy, was part of this cult run by the literal yakuza. they broke his hand so he couldn't play. UNTIL HE DID! :o

BUT WAIT! prodigal son and orphan boy have MET! they met when runaway orphan boy's dad cut a man to pieces in front of them (they were tweens at this time). apparently runaway's serial killer father WORKED for the yakuza the whole time!!!!!

(you'll read prodigal son and runaway's interactions the whole sreies and go 'huh this is very homoerotic do they fall in love?')

then u got this psychotic 5 foot nothing goalie (who has a twin also on the team)(they've both killed someone)(btw)(also he's blond)(and gay) who literally could stop the yakuza if need be and WAIT! does runaway orphan boy only know how to have homoerotic interactions with other men? the answer is probably yes.* blond goalie and runaway actually gay tho and make out a lot

also runaway gets tortured (twice) but he's fine or whatever. more murder. violence violence. some great side characters.

i'd say 'did that make sense' but i *know* it didn't bc even with my knowledge of the books it doesn't make sense.

so just like. an underdog sports story but the yakuza is there is how i'd jokingly describe it but it is in fact,,,,so much more than that.

if u are not enticed by my description and are not able to suspend all belief and accept there will be loose ends bc runaway is a TERRIBLY unreliable narrator with trauma up the wazoo, you will never understand. but if u ARE enticed, welcome to brain rot central. here are the trigger warnings.

there's also a fourth book that just came out but that's from a completely different pov that i am holding so deeply to my heart right now, cannot make fun of it

(*runaway, blond goalie, and prodigal son were originally a throuple and the author took it out but did nothing to erase how gay they all are)

#ur welcome for this #aftg #long post

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sgiandubh · 1 year ago

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Trick or treat?

Time to re-read this wonderful post by @wildfernflower:

I mean, yeah:

Linked In, people, FFS! Supposedly active in 'music' , whatever that might mean.

1 connection. 3 followers.

For comparison, please refer to my completely dormant Linked In account. I literally did nothing with it, just politely clicked on all the invitation links that popped in my Gmail. Because no one wants to look like Yeti when asked at the next reception something along the lines of ' oh, did you receive my Linked In link?'

I don't need Linked In to keep tabs on things and I never got used to it, that's all.

I also filled in some details, because it asked me to. I still have more connections and followers than Tracula, mind you:

I do not use Linked In. But... does Tracula have an email? The answer is probably yes, yet how the hell is the 1 connection and 3 followers profile supposed to make sense in the synoptics of a successful, millionaire real estate investor and multiple businesses owner?

He doesn't work for a Soviet nuclear facility located in one of those closed cities you couldn't find on any map (Chelyabinsk-65, anyone?), mind you.

He is not included in a federal witness protection program.

He did not defect from North Korea and currently de-briefed by Seoul.

He is not an in pectore appointed Cardinal of the Roman Catholic Church.

He is not a Yakuza warlord or a росси́йская ма́фия /Russian mafia Avtoritet, whose CV would be read by the cognoscenti on this tattoos, not on Linked In.

Nope. He's not even a Calabrese capofamiglia (pun totally intended, btw).

Well, then... could he simply be a .... ghost?

'Tis the season.

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beatx-mavie-archangelx · 1 year ago

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Do YOU have any headcanons for Rio? >:3

YES !!

Rio Ranger headcanons

he doesn't know about Sei

he doesn't really know he's related to Kai since Gashu doesn't refer to him as his son and can't show any kind of affection towards him, but knows about him as "one of Asu-Naro's greatest traitors"

while he is almost fluent in every language in the world (thanks to the internet), he can hardly read and cannot write in any of them. The most he can accomplish is writing "父さん", ”トトノエル", and maybe "ハンナキ" in a 5 year old hand writing. He could learn, but he doesn't care since he sees no use for it, especially with Safalin there to help him if he really needs to

While the visible parts of his body are super detailed and realistic, those that are usually covered by clothes are just a block of plastic with poorly drawn details

he likes to draw on himself with washable markers since the drawings look like he has tattoos (...like his dad, you know... to show loyalty to the organization on your own skin, something that will never go away, no matter if you try to leave... the yakuza can work like that sometimes)

he's utterly terrified of Salvador Dalí for some reason

he tried to learn how to smile and laugh realistically, practicing in front of a mirror for hours and asking AIs for advice, but he eventually gave up since it was too hard for him

like Sei, he has a lazy eye (the left one)

he has freckles

he tries to bite everything and everyone

he tried to bite a Hello Kitty plushie's head off once (failed)

Safalin puts him to bed at night and covers him completely with a blanket for him to go into "sleep mode". She forgot to cover him once and he just laid there the whole night like "👁️_👁️".

got partially stuck in a vending machine once (or twice)

he asked Mishima's AI for help with the expression masks

#I'M SORRY THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR CENTURIES I THOUGHT I HAD POSTED IT #i hope this were enough :3 #there are more but I can't think of anything else rn #some of this might change but oh well #yttd #gashu satou #your turn to die #kimi ga shine #rio ranger #tia safalin #yttd headcanons #kai satou #yttd headcanon #headcanons requests #head canon #rio yttd #michiru namida #sei satou

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captain-hawks · 3 months ago

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There's an angry din in the meeting room. Your husband has managed to cut them out of a deal, again. Kita has gathered his wakagashira-hosa in this private room to allow them to vent their frustrations.

The kumicho's lost the art of the deal, one says, with men nodding in agreement. It's high time the old man retired, says another, with several men rapping their knuckles on the table.

Kita holds up his hand for silence, and Suna perfectly times this with voicing his opinion, Maybe we just get rid of him and you become kumicho. The cascade of knuckles to table is thunderous.

It isn't a difficult task per se, make better deals than the ones currently in play, with more selectively chosen allies. His grandmother used to tell him, someone is always watching. So Kita does as he was taught. He watches, he waits, and when each facet of the organization shows its weakness, he strikes.

When the timing is right, Kita pulls Osamu aside and assigns a separate mission: bring you back from your husband's territory when their organization collapses. Osamu, having known you the longest, is the only one he can rely on with this task. Kita knows if he has to stay under the radar of having orchestrated all this, he can't be the one to retrieve you.

It takes time and patience, but it’s now the aftermath of the implosions, Kita sits in the innermost room where the kumicho holds his meetings. He listens, expression as impassive as ever, as the kumicho verbally lashes out about trust and family and honour. His empire has crumbled beneath him, and in retaliation has beaten and exiled those in his circle he accuses of treachery. He laments the loss of his son, who he would name as the next kumicho, killed as collateral of the last failed deal.

(The son was not made for the yakuza. Indecisive, easily swayed, and terrible at listening to his intuition. Suna and Osamu referred to him in private as the kumichoke)

It angers Kita that the kumicho has made no mention of you in any of this tirade. And when he moves to put an end to the kumicho's reign, Kita takes pride in seeing the realization dawn across the kumicho's expression before blooming into hatred.

I trusted you, he hisses at Kita as the light leaves his narrowed eyes. Kita studies the body of the man who he once looked to for guidance and leadership. Who picked him above other men to mold, to forge, to empower. He exhales slowly and shakes his head.

We don't need memories.

Kita doesn’t remember when he stopped pretending he was a good man, but tonight, he's made a point to choose not to be a good one.

🌻-

(Listen, everyone needs to go tell their favourite writers how much they appreciate their work. Picking the right words and tone to match the pictures in your head is hard)

Dee. I love how many ideas you gave me with your responses. I have one more thread to weave into this that you inspired me with. I have no idea how to bring it to life yet but goddamnit for you i will!

🌻🌻kita-not a writer 🫣

KITA-NONNNNNNN. call yourself not a writer all you want, but you have a writer's brain through and through, and i love all the things you come up with so dearly 😭🫶 (but also yes, mushing the thoughts in your head into words is hard work!!)

KITA CHOOSING NOT TO BE A GOOD MAN <- my cause of death

i'm clutching my chest. all i can think about is reader returning (thank u osamu<3) to find him in charge. the relief of their reunion.

#💌 inbox #🌻🌻kita-non #shinsuke kita

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wanderersrest · 6 months ago

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A Cheat Sheet to Gintama References

Have you ever said to yourself "I want to get into Gintama, but I want to understand all of the references?"

Well fear not, for I have a cheat sheet for a lot of the references. Not all of them, because I'd never finish this post. But there are a lot of references the series makes, and as non-native Japanese viewers, a lot of things are lost on us. That's not even getting to things that are lost due to the language barrier. So here it is: a (not so) comprehensive list of series that Gintama references!

Manga

Dragon Ball (Bonus points if it involves dunking on Yamcha.)

Fist of the North Star (Complete with a copyright-friendly version of You Wa Shock!)

Saint Seiya (an entire episode hinges on Gintoki being afraid of getting sued by Toei because of their constant Saint Seiya references)

City Hunter (I wouldn't be surprised if City Hunter was an inspiration for Gintama. Like Gintoki as a main character is what happens if you were to combine Kenshin Himura and Ryo Saeba into a single man. And then you gave said man Kakashi's hair.)

Rurouni Kenshin (Gintama is best described as the post Big 3 answer to Rurouni Kenshin. While One Piece and Shaman King are the true successors to RK, Gintama is the series most similar in terms of aesthetics... minus the modern tech in Meiji-era Japan.)

One Piece, Naruto, and Bleach (I'm folding all three into one line due to their nature as Jump's Big Three. Not helping things is that Gintama ran around the same time as all three.)

JoJo's Bizarre Adventures

Death Note

To Love Ru (Yes, really.)

SKET Dance (Not surprising as SKET Dance mangaka Kenta Shinohara was Sorachi's apprentice at one point)

Fullmetal Alchemist

Lupin III

Golgo 13

Kinnikuman (the thing Ultimate Muscle is based off of)

Doraemon

Sazae-san

Berserk

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K (Ask me about how Gintama helped screw Saiki K out of an English Dub for Season 2)

Anime

Mobile Suit Gundam (It helps that Sunrise/Bandai Namco Pictures produced the Gintama anime, because there are a lot of Gundam references in particular. You also don't get the Renho arc without Sunrise producing the anime.)

Mobile Suit Victory Gundam and Mobile Suit Gundam Unicorn (Specifically the fact that Shinpachi and Tsukuyo's voice actors are in each series respectively)

Neon Genesis Evangelion (Especially if it involves MADAO, as MADAO shares a voice actor with Gendo Ikari)

Castle in the Sky, Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, and My Neighbor Totoro (I'm highlighting these three Ghibli movies in particular due to how often they are referenced throughout the series.)

The Brave Franchise (Specifically The Brave Express Might Gaine and The King of Braves GaoGaiGar)

Patlabor (Yes really, and SKET Dance is partially to thank for this one)

Video Games

Dragon Quest (Specifically DQ III & IV, this series gets referenced a lot once Tama is introduced)

Sengoku Basara (Specifically when it involves one Toshiro Hijikata)

Final Fantasy VII

Mother

Super Mario Brothers

Tales Of

Resident Evil

Yakuza/Like a Dragon (Not surprising, as both Like a Dragon and Gintama are set in and around Kabukicho)

Monster Hunter

Live Action Film & Television

Abarenbo Shogun (SHOGUN KA YO!!!!!)

NHK Taiga Drama (The Shinsengumi drama in particular is a primary influence for Gintama)

Game of Death

Star Wars

Kinpachi-sensei (The series that the Ginpachi-sensei segments are based off of)

Doctor Who

I hope this helps if and when you decide to watch through Gintama. I'll try to update this post as I remember more references or if anyone messages me with a reference that I missed. Because good lord are there a lot of references. Oh, also remember: if this is your first time watching Gintama, start on episode 3. The first two episodes are filler.

#anime and manga #gintama #reference overdose

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heich0e · 8 months ago

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Dear Liv,

LIV this is so overdue there have been multiple moments this week where I wanted to send you an ask! I’ve narrowed it down to three things for now.

1. I am trying to enter my Shakespeare era by reading his sonnets and Nr. 19 reminds me of your Vampire Matsuhana before makki turned mattsun. This is solely want I’m getting from the sonnet: begging time to spare his lover from aging. It gives me major human x vampire romance :(((

2. I started a webtoon called mafia nanny which made me think of your yakuza suna and then that reminded me that you once worked as a nanny hehehe. And then I had to think of which yakuza + single dad!blorbo I’d take a bullet for…methinks daichi…who would you pick?

3. A FORGET ME NOT MARCO SEQUEL?!?!? Is it an after happy ending fluff fic or does it contain more angst? :’)))))))

4. I LOVE U!!! (the best and most important part has to come last) and I hope you’re having a wonderful, restful weekend!! How are you gonna indulge yourself?

Yours truly,

Nana <333

PS concerning the Shakespeare thought, I have little to no idea what sonnet 19 actually means…so pls no judging…I know you’re a Shakespeare girly so I’m being very brave and vulnerable right now…

HELLO BEAUTIFUL NANA i hope you had a lovely relaxing weeekendddd!!

WHAT A MESSAGE!! here are my follow ups <3

OMG NANA SHAKESPEARE ERA!! QUEEN OF LITERATURE!! i honestly was never super super into the sonnets and mostly studied the plays, but i am familiar w sonnet 19 and this vampire matsuhana comment made me go CRAZY. i've always rly liked sonnet 19 because of how violently the passing of time is described... "Devouring time" is also just like a delicious series of words... like yeah time IS devouring.... that guy mighta been onto something. (also i had to double check this info bc i was sure i made it up but i'm p ReTT y sure this sonnet in particular is believed to be written from a female perspective!! which i just love!!)

MAFIA NANNY SOUNDS LIKE SOMETHING I WOULD BE INTO MAYHAPS I WILL BE CHECKIN THAT ONE OUT!! also yes liv nanny arc was a very interesting season of my life heheh (choosing not to acknowledge the yakuza!suna reference for my own peace of mind xoxo) re: yakuza + single dad.... DAICHI IS AN ABSOLUTELY YUMMY THOUGHT. a few other men came to mind too.... kita.... geto.... dare i say wakatoshi??

YES I WAS SHOOK WHEN I FOUND THE NOTES!!! the sequel is set after the end of the manga when the corps (or what remains of them RIP) is returning back to paradis from marley.... there is also a huuuuuuge plot twist in that one but i dare not say more...

I LOVE U MOREEEEEEEEEEE!! i had a very relaxing weekend actually just kicking around the house!! i did do 5 loads of laundry though so i feel very accomplished <3 i hope you had a weekend full of treats n good sleep and nice weather where you are, sweet girl!! you deserve nothing less!!

SENDING U THE BIGGEST SQUISH AN EARTHLY BODY IS CAPABLE OF AND ALL MY LOVE FOREVER <3

ps - your shakespeare thought was wonderful and insightful and brilliant just like u

#liv got mail

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datastate · 6 months ago

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send asks if we desire you say... hehehe

I ask if you've had a good day :> and also if you have any fun facts about the asunaro agents in mcfdau

SMILES SO WIDE... i did have a nice day, yes!!! got the chance to hang out & talk a bit with my lola + siblings so we're thriving ^_^ <3

as for mcfdau... i do!!! for reference, here are the asu-agents & their names! these will mostly be spoiler-free trivia bwehehe... excluding kai/michiru/hiyori here, because i don't want this to be too overwhelming x']

MINAMI:

— minami was an orphan who was very close with suzuki (kazumi's grandfather) throughout their teenage years together; they considered each other best friends, and though they drifted apart for a bit... after minami sustained an injury in the coast guard (post-war), still restless, he stayed with suzuki in hokkaido and inevitably got wrapped up in the yakuza conflicts that broke out leading up to the hades incident as the police force laid down pressure. & he still blames himself for, even after returning, not being close enough to recognize that suzuki's desire for power was. insatiable. and even then, he's laden with guilt over not being the one to finally stop him. — ...that aside! minami will often eat plain rice with teriyaki chicken. he does not dip his rice in teriyaki, nor does he put any other seasoning on it. like a weirdo. — despite his looks, he tends to prefer really slow instrumentals to anything else. when winding down (since he never enjoyed smoking & finds the company of other people stressful, there are too many social games...), he prefers drinking alone in his office with this sort of music playing. it keeps him from feeling overwhelmed. he still has muscle memory for some of sei's favorite songs on the kalimba...

OGASAWARA:

— ahhh i love her... she is the one in charge of dealing with most foreign affairs/trading in asunaro, as well as the gambling halls. she's very much someone who believes in carving your own path forward, even if it must be through underhanded means to gain the advantage. whereas myojin often finds a certain thrill in the roll of the dice (as it's the one thing he can't predict, unlike cards), ogasawara doesn't care much for gambling at all. everything can be rigged in her favor, and she'll do what she can to ensure as much; it's subtler than others, but she also craves large influence and aspires to be the next chairman. of course... due to her not being japanese, she is reluctant to relent anything with how easily that show of weakness or fateful misfortune can turn everything against her. for as casual as she appears, she's achingly aware of her position and takes the precautions she must to keep her balance in this mess of a world. — despite that all... she does let a few people close enough. usually, they are her subordinates - her captains - who were previously in charge of various foreign mafia in japan before [everything that led to the hades incident]; it was during this time that they had brought themselves together to survive, and that had formed something unshakeable. however, even with them, they aren't witness to her weaknesses -- even if they recognize it, she never speaks on it, and neither do they. — in any case! something lighter: she often enjoys having fruity desserts & treats, even if she can't eat as much of that now that she's older... however, she also enjoys coffee over tea! now that asunaro's been established, there's a bit more room for selfish frivolities like this and it keeps her carefree <3 (well... as long as she doesn't get the time to do that introspection) — also! i think if it weren't for her arthritis, she'd still be killing it with all sorts of instruments. one of the few gifts minami bought for her was a high-quality kutyapi. he may vehemently disregard her inclusion in hand with asunaro, but at least he tries when yakuza politics are aside? (it's complicated. to say the least. but it IS good quality)

CHEN:

— technically a subsidary family that grew into its own with ogasawara's support! chen was found recently after serving her sentence when her family (literal and yakuza) was caught up by the police; she was stuck in juvenile jail and had no place to go afterward, ending up in several terrible places before ogasawara really gave her & what was left of her (yakuza) family a place to belong... she really did save her. this certainly didn't facilitate any untold realizations about her sexuality or anything down the line that she outright refuses to linger any further on when it comes to just how unquestionably devoted she is to ogasawara. surely not. — but yes! this was genuinely an improvement when they weren't forced to support only themselves; of course, they still had to prove themselves to asunaro, but ogasawara kept that opening ready for her... and. even chen's subordinates began to realize how chen was slowly opening up. no longer in this survival mode, she was given the chance to truly be... human, not just their leader. of course, this isn't something spoken aloud either, but there's no denying she's more patient now. more understanding, where before something would've resulted in someone's execution, they're instead given expulsion or simply deal with another punishment (often isolation) instead. though she still fosters a ruthless mindset, she's certainly changed for the better. it's brought them new hope. — of course, for those first 20 or so years, she's so late on catching up with " how to interact with people " & it definitely shows. usually it creates little awkward moments between her and ogasawara, but she's said that it just makes chen cuter (O_O!); and even with her subordinates, there are some moments when they're meeting not solely with work in mind that she sort of lets her guard down & reveals just. how weird she is... and even though they're tentative to bring it up, it's only ever lightly humorous (well. their harsher words don't make it seem like it is, but that's just how they are! she does the same, with those serious-sounding threats <3) and it makes her feel. a bit more welcome and connected w her people.

MYOJIN:

— the myojin family is in (subtle) contest with the hiyoris! they're an allied branch of asunaro that's involved in information dealing, but it's due to the tension between these strongest families that they do not rule asunaro entirely (along with the yoshimoto family (with patriarch minami) & patriarch ogasawara having the force to keep them in check) ... sou hiyori is very irate that myojin can play the seniority card on him for this reason, and takes primary control of the branch now that patriarch hiyori is comatose :> — was a politician for the majority of his life and it shows, i fear... has that very polite/firm speaking pattern down and dislikes referring to himself in conversation much at all. he wants to focus on what you can do for him -- though he won't say as much! ^_^ — now that he doesn't have to exclusively wear suits, he dresses like a gay old asian man. because, much as i loathe to say it, he is a gay old asian man.

#I HOPE THESE ARE. ENTERTAINING IN A WAYYY... i really did just mean to keep it to non-serious stuff. but the lore. clenches fist #it's taken over aegahaha #ask #friends #slightlytoastedbagel #yttdposting #rikuto minami #ogasawara #chen #myojin #ocs #yttd ocs #mcfdau

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sapphire-weapon · 1 year ago

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It’s been pretty much given in terms of remakes we’re getting re5 next but I was wondering why a group of people are so passionate about code Veronica being next? Wouldn’t re1 remake (yes again because as much as some people wanna deny it I don’t believe it’s enjoyable for younger players, I mean talking from experience I played through but I wasn’t exactly having fun) make more sense first then re cvx? Re5 story is a little confusing without knowing re1 lore sure but re cvx just straight up doesn’t make any sense if you haven’t been watched or played re1 or does it?

sorry i'm in the "don't remake REmake" camp. as far as i'm concerned, REmake is a perfect game.

i'm about to be really annoying about this, actually LOL sorry

bc that's not a title i give lightly. there's a whole list of games that i consider to be the greatest games ever made (RE4, OG FF7, uncharted 2, yakuza 0, devil may cry 3, xenogears, diablo 2 -- just to name a few off the top of my head) that are not perfect games. they all have flaws, they all have things i can and will bitch about if asked.

REmake and hades.

that's it.

those are the only two games that i consider to be perfect, without a single flaw or thing to complain about. i sat here for like 20 minutes and wracked my brain for another game to put on that list, and i can't find one.

everything about REmake from art style to level design to atmosphere to pacing to enemy design to sound design to voice acting to writing quality to atmosphere to controls (now that 3D controls have been implemented) -- all of it is flawless.

any remake of REmake would be a lesser experience. there is nothing you can do to make that game better.

if it was still using the old tank control system, i would maybe agree with you on the accessibility aspect for younger audiences, but 3D controls modernize the game completely.

you personally may not have liked the fixed camera angles, but there is an artistic merit to them in REmake specifically that would take away from the overall experience of the game if they were to be removed and replaced with an over-the-shoulder camera.

this game released in 2002.

it is older than or as old as a decent chunk of my followers.

do you realize how fucking insane that is, for this game to be that old and still look like this? there's not a single other game on the planet that holds up artistically 21 years later the way that REmake does.

for reference, other games that released in 2002 include vice city, morrowind, bloodrayne, eternal darkness, and kingdom hearts 1. none of them hold up. not a single goddamn one.

and it looks this good because of its art style, which includes pre-rendered backgrounds that you can't do/use without fixed camera angles.

in fact, part of the reason why RE3make was received so poorly is because RE3 doesn't work without fixed camera angles, either, because of the way that nemesis and his encounters were originally designed/developed. he's not a 1:1 comparison to Mr. X in RE2. nemesis encounters were highly scripted and made use of the fixed camera angles and limited visibility in order to make them tense. taking those things away just turned nemesis and his encounters into minor inconveniences rather than the setpieces they were meant to be.

like... RE3make was fine. but that's all it was, because it really lost something in translation.

even RE4make has real legitimate criticism to be leveled at it in terms of the change in art style leading to a change in atmosphere from OG. RE4make does not feel the same way OGRE4 does. something got lost there in the environment and sound design. RE4make just happened to add more than it lost, which RE3make didn't pull off -- and a re-REmake would fall short the same way.

that is why people are calling for CVX to be remade before RE5 and not RE1.

because there is no reason to remake REmake. not a single goddamn one. it can't be remade to be better. it just can't. because remaking it would cause it to lose more than it would gain. because it is already a perfect game.

#resident evil

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euphietea · 6 months ago

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Yakuza Reference List.

It's not perfect. I just stuck the articles I downloaded from my university into Mendeley :' ).

Nicaso, A., & Danesi, M. (2021). Organized crime : A cultural introduction. Taylor & Francis Group.

Adelstein, J. (2010). The Last Yakuza. World Policy Journal, Summer 2010, 63–71.

Alkemade, R. (n.d.). “Outsiders amongst outsiders”: A cultural criminological perspective on the sub-subcultural world of women in the yakuza underworld.

Art Museum Baltimore, W. (1912). 56 Other criminal organizations.

Baradel, M. (2021a). The rise of shaming paternalism in Japan: recent tendencies in the Japanese criminal justice system. Trends in Organized Crime, 24(1), 23–41. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12117-019-09357-8

Baradel, M. (2021b). Yakuza Grey: The Shrinking of the Il/legal Nexus and its Repercussions on Japanese Organised Crime. Global Crime, 22(1), 74–91. https://doi.org/10.1080/17440572.2020.1813114

Baradel, M., & Bortolussi, J. (2021). Under a setting sun: the spatial displacement of the yakuza and their longing for visibility. Trends in Organized Crime, 24(2), 209–226. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12117-020-09398-4

Bosmia, A., Griessenauer, C. J., & Tubbs, S. (2014). Yubitsume: ritualistic self-amputation of proximal digits Among the yakuza. Journal of Injury and Violence Research, 6(2). https://doi.org/10.5249/jivr.v6i2.489

DeMello, M. (2014). Tattoos. Inked Tattoos and Body Art, 325–336.

Hill, P. (2014). The Japanese Yakuza CHAPTER 11. https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use

Hoshino, T., & Kamada, T. (2021). Third-Party Policing Approaches Against Organized Crime: An Evaluation of the Yakuza Exclusion Ordinances. Journal of Quantitative Criminology, 37(3), 791–811. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10940-020-09466-6

Japan’s_black_market_Yakuza,_. (n.d.).

Kaplan, D. E., & Dubro, Alec. (2012). Yakuza : Japan’s criminal underworld. University of California Press.

Kawasaki, T. (2010). Big Investment Fraud and “Yakuza Money” Crime - Two Perspectives of Financial Crime in Japan. Asian Journal of Criminology, 5(2), 89–98. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11417-010-9091-6

kersten-1993-street-youths-bosozoku-and-yakuza-subculture-formation-and-societal-reactions-in-japan. (n.d.).

Méndez, C. F. (2020). Women’s Involvement in Organised Crime and Drug Trafficking: A Comparative Analysis of the Sinaloa and Yamaguchi-gumi Organisations. In The Impact of Global Drug Policy on Women: Shifting the Needle (pp. 159–168). Emerald Group Publishing Ltd. https://doi.org/10.1108/978-1-83982-882-920200022

Nako, J. (1997a). Yakuza Bride. Amerasia Journal, 23(2), 177–180. https://doi.org/10.17953/amer.23.2.d238m624853q1154

Nako, J. (1997b). Yakuza Bride. Amerasia Journal, 23(2), 177–180. https://doi.org/10.17953/amer.23.2.d238m624853q1154

Neary, I. (2021). Corrupt practices? A comment on yakuza involvement. In Dōwa Policy and Japanese Politics (pp. 222–228). Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003127994-9

Newsham, G. F. (2019). Japan’s Yakuza-still alive, and yes, they do matter. Journal of Financial Crime, 26(4). https://doi.org/10.11OSJFC-12-2018-0138

Organized Crime A Cultural Introduction 8 The Women. (n.d.).

Siniawer, E. M. (2012). Befitting bedfellows: Yakuza and the state in modern Japan. Journal of Social History, 45(3), 623–641. https://doi.org/10.1093/jsh/shr120

#.✄.navi #.✄.references

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manhattanindulgedrp · 7 months ago

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Hello! I took a looong hiatus from writing and am looking to break that spell by joining your group :3 I have a muse in mind, I just wanted to ask if it's okay to have a character who references/has mob/gang ties from elsewhere in the world (they aren't a gang member or anything like that themselves, it's more related to their history). Thanks! :)

Hello! Yes, absolutely! We have muses who were involved with the Yakuza for instance and we have no problem with that! I know the Li's mention having ties to London and Hong Kong as well so some of them are more worldwide! Hopefully that helps! If you have more questions, feel free to join the server and ask or send a dm! Thank you!

#dark rpg #discord rpg #mature rp #mature rpg #smut rpg #discord rp #smut rp #mafia rp #answered

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deluluass · 4 years ago

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What bliss, domesticity.

for: @tink2kagome. i’m sorry it took me so long to work on ur pretty setter squad request T^T i’ll probably do like another one in the future!

& @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa @belpomme @chaichai-the-weeb for being such lovely mutuals <3 <3

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; yakuza/organized crime; gun mention; a lot of (non-sexual) food references in this one

Jun’ichi Saikawa was obviously the kind of man who liked to laugh. Not unlike most people in their world. The kind who use their entire body when they do, announcing to the entire world with a bellowing “Ha Ha Ha!” how pleased they are with whatever’s going on in front of them.

Which, in all honesty, was pretty admirable, that the old man could still do it considering how bored to tears Wataru was.

That it’s a humid afternoon didn’t help either. He could feel the sweat on his back even when the doors were already slid open, exhibiting a verdant garden filled with blossoms and shrub peonies. From his place he could see the school of koi swirling in the shallow pond, their scales iridescent under the warm rays of the sun.

“Didn’t know you were the funny sort, 'Kaashi!” Saikawa blurted out, the sake in his hand spilling to his fingers.

This wasn’t Wataru’s first day on the job, but this is the first that he gets to do something this important. And with someone he highly respects, too.

So he gave his collar a light tug, steeling himself to endure as he tucked his legs further beneath him, and resorted to thinking about the many things he would absolutely surrender just to lie down on the warm mat.

His car, maybe.

The brand new noise-cancelling headphones he bought, if pushed.

Wataru saw Akaashi nod.

“I appreciate a joke every now and then,” he said.

The larger man laughed again.

“Here, here!” Saikawa thundered, snatching a tiny, yellow box from the maid who appeared as swiftly as she’d left.

“I heard you like sweets. Here,” he said, grinning as he handed it to Akaashi. “My youngest son just opened a cake shop. I know what you’re thinking, but who am I to say no, eh?”

Akaashi passed the box to Wataru.

“Mind it for me, please,” he whispered.

How unexpected. Akaashi-san has a sweet tooth.

Huh.

That’s pretty neat. Wataru himself wasn’t partial to cakes, but he does love pudding.

“You are a good father, Jun’ichi-san,” Akaashi told him.

This time, Wataru didn’t bother suppressing a yawn as Saikawa fumbled for his phone, hiding it behind his hand as he stared at the birds chirping and hopping about outside.

“Wanna see him? He’s much like you! Good head on his shoulders, that one.”

“I am honored, Jun’ichi-san,” Akaashi echoed back, peering down at the photos Saikawa showed him.

“He sends me a lot of these- uh,” Saikawa snorted, his nose reddened by the alcohol. “What do young people call it, the- pictures-”

“Selfies?” Akaashi politely supplied.

“That’s the one! Look. Precious, ain’t he?”

His earpiece crackled to life.

Konoha’s voice emerged from the static.

“We’re ready when you are,” his senior murmured. “Man, this is taking too long. Let’s get some burgers when we’re done.”

“Akaashi-san,” Wataru croaked, feeling his cheeks heat up as he continued, “K-Komi-san and the others are waiting for you.”

Saikawa perked up. “Ah, of course! Of course!”

He stumbled when he attempted to stand up. Akaashi was quick on his feet to assist him.

“I knew I could count on you, son,” he muttered, patting Akaashi’s back. “Now, you tell Bokuto that what happened between us- it’s all in the past! All in the past! And if those bastards mess with him again, you tell him to run to old Jun’ichi!”

Akaashi clasped Saikawa’s hand.

“Thank you,” Akaashi said. “I’ll be sure to relay your sentiments to Bokuto-san.”

“You do that, my boy.” Saikawa’s belly shook as he laughed. “Your generation’s a smart one, indeed. The in-fighting and wars, bah! All that trouble for nothing; that’s not your style. Your lot’s the future now!”

Then, Akaashi stepped a few meters back and bowed.

Wataru followed behind him.

“We will be taking our leave,” Akaashi said. “It has been an illuminating talk, Jun’ichi-san.”

The sound of the bamboo drip trickling water into another stalk permeated through the silence.

It collapsed and clunked against a stone.

He heard the birds flutter away.

When Wataru raised his head, Saikawa had already been lying face down on the floor.

And, of course, Wataru’s used to it: the crack of a gun muffled by a silencer.

He’s been practicing his entire life, after all. He actually doesn’t flinch anymore and Wataru thinks he should be proud of himself.

It’s just that... how could someone who used to be there, suddenly...disappear? Saikawa was right in front of him a few minutes ago. Laughing and showing off photographs of his son. And now he’s...not.

But, Saikawa didn’t disappear. Not really.

The blood seeping through the tatami is proof of it, but Wataru chooses not to look. In theory, he knows what a bullet through the skull looks like. He’d just rather not see today if what he’s taught reflects true in the real world.

Maybe some other time.

“Wataru.”

Wataru flinched. “Y-yes?”

Akaashi looked back at him. “The cake?”

His body was still trembling and it took a lot of strength to not let it show in his hands when he gave it back to Akaashi, the box pleasantly yellow with doodles of doe-eyed eggs dancing along the handle. Unblemished, unlike Akaashi, who was sporting a splatter of blood along his cheek.

It’s surprisingly still cool to touch, too.

“No, thank you,” he said, rejecting the handkerchief that Wataru offered.

From afar, Wataru could hear the faint melodies of an old love song being played by a car radio. No doubt Konoha’s doing. It followed them, growing louder the closer they walked back into the parking lot. The others bowed and sent gruff salutations along Akaashi’s way as they dragged bodies out of the Saikawa mansion.

(It was nauseating and Wataru wanted to pass out.)

He pressed his nails harshly into the meat of his palm.

“A-Akaashi-san,” Wataru began. “I didn’t know that- that um, you liked... sweets.”

Akaashi halted.

“No, I don’t,” he said, blinking. “But my wife does.”

Wataru stared at him.

Akaashi went ahead.

He stayed that way— staring and wondering, until they stopped by the fast food restaurant that Konoha loved so much. Wataru couldn’t even finish his burger and fries.

By the time that they hit the freeway, Akaashi had already cleaned himself up and Wataru was still grappling with the word “wife.”

Of course he knows the man is married.

But, how, exactly, do you reconcile his reputation with the sight of him, every passing headlight sharpening his features, quietly humming along to Aki Yashiro? Who was longing for Shinjuku at night, the beauty of it, and oh, how wonderful it’d be, she said: a rendezvous with her lover, waiting for her under raining cherry blossoms.

Wataru figured that he was tired and starting to see things.

That small smile that graced Akaashi’s lips couldn't be real, either, especially those hands of his that held the box of cake like it’s worth more than gold.

He wasn't really particular when it comes to music. A song's a song, in Akaashi's opinion. Another form of noise that helps when the silence gets too overbearing.

But you, on the other hand, liked music. Listened to it the same way one eats their favorite food: memorizes the lyrics; goes out of your way to collect unearthed photographs and newspaper clippings that made the singer seem more human.

You loved music— was probably the right way of putting it.

Especially the old variety. He didn't get it at first. The sounds are dated; no one speaks in that language with that cadence anymore; the singer's probably dead.

Well, Akaashi still doesn't get it, if he were to be honest.

Yet here he is.

His hands were wrapped around your waist, coaxing you into a slow— albeit clumsy, waltz.

"Kei-kun!" you squeaked. "The dishes!"

You dragged your slippers beneath you, struggling to wipe the suds off your hands.

"S-seriously, Kei-kun..!"

Sure, he doesn’t fully understand what’s great about it, music.

Yet here he is.

Perhaps it’s because he immediately recognized the first few notes this time, that’s why he’s doing this. He didn’t even wait for the DJ to finish saying, “You’re still listening to Vintage F.M. Here’s a classic for you couples out there. Have a romantic night with Nat King Cole’s L-O-V-”

Perhaps it’s because your cream stew tasted extra special that it made him shrug the fatigue off, giving in to the urge of pulling you close and taking your damp hand in his to sway and bob along the skipping bassline. Your bashful objections went in one ear and out the other.

Sure, he’s not the type to do this, either, dancing.

Yet here he is.

Perhaps it’s because he knew that it’s your favorite song.

Perhaps it’s just what marriage does to you.

"Did you like the cake?" he whispered against your neck, inhaling the scent of cinnamon and the way your skin jumped as he did.

Your breaths were shallow against his chest, but you managed a soft, “Yes, sweetheart. Thank you.”

Akaashi caressed your back, kneading the tensed muscles as he huffed.

“Good,” he murmured, trembling. “Good girl. What a relief."

It was endearing, how offbeat the both of you were. A shame, though, considering that Nat King Cole’s fervently insisting on love; that it’s all that I can give to you; that it’s more than just a game for two.

So Akaashi makes up for his two left feet by joining in. He pressed his lips to your forehead. How strange, your presence in his life. What did he do to deserve you by his side, for this contentment that thaws away the chill?

(He put a ring on your finger, is what he did. He deserves this.)

“Two,” he droned, made giddy by the sparks in his belly, “in love can make it.”

You looked at him, wide-eyed.

“Take my heart and please don’t break it.”

He spun you around.

“Oh my god, Kei-kun,” you gasped. “You can’t sing.”

Akaashi’s aware of it all too well. He can’t carry a note; not him: the guy who’s had monotony ingrained in his very being. But that’s why he has you.

A startled giggle left you as he guided you into a box step, the trumpet rising and falling over the strings. You stepped on him a few times, so he lifted you up, just so, and kicked off your slippers. Then, he set your feet atop his own.

He took you with him as he moved, waddling and careful not to hit his back against the countertop. It came as no revelation that both of you weren’t any better dancers even after this maneuver.

Akaashi continued. Starting with L—

“Is for the way you look at me.”

“Stop, stop-” Your eyes crinkled at the sides. “You’re flat.”

Akaashi persisted, anyway, taking your cheek to pepper kisses all over your face.

“O is for the only one I see.”

Your laugh was airy— light and buoyant all over the kitchen, like a fairy leaving stardust in its wake. Not gratingly booming nor demanding. After all, you weren’t the kind who felt the need for it: an audience to witness how pleased you are; how strong and powerful you are over everyone else.

Besides, your laugh was just for him. A private and intimate thing. And he was so lost in it that he almost forgot what’s been gnawing at him for the entire morning.

Akaashi rested his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling the downy fabric of your dress as he gripped you by the hips.

“Where did you go earlier?”

The orchestra was in a joyous uproar, joining the rapid beating of your heart; the trumpet bright and clear, singing in harmony with the bass and saxophones and trombones, as Nat King Cole repeatedly guaranteed, as if an oath, that love was made for me and you.

Love was made for me and you.

“I had to buy some groceries!” you piped up. “We ran out of ingredients. Sorry, I forgot to bring my phone with me. Oh, I have to run you a bath. I’ll tell you when it’s done, alright?”

You broke away from him with a beaming grin, but Akaashi wanted to ask, despite the evidence of it before him.

“Are you happy?”

It has already ended, the song. The DJ was signing off for the night.

You nodded, playfully jabbing his arm with a fist.

“Of course,” you told him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Perhaps it’s because you were never really good at pretense, no matter how much you hid behind needless noise.

Music. Laughter. Running water.

Akaashi sighed as he slumped down the nearest stool.

Of course you’re happy. Why wouldn’t you be?

After rubbing his eyes with clammy fingers, Akaashi fiddled them together beneath his temples. He released a heavy breath and fished for his phone in his pocket.

He spoke after the first two rings.

“Wataru-san, I’m sorry for bothering you,” he said. “Can you do something for me?”

His subordinate didn't ask him why, neither did he react when he'd stated his request. Akaashi knew, however, that the question was sitting in Wataru's clipped replies. The boy’s “yes, sir” and “understood, sir” were far too enthusiastic than normal.

Akaashi didn’t mind, though, if he did ask. And despite that familiar pang of dread, Akaashi would answer him like the common— just like the average, everyday husband— with that characteristic, bordering on irksome pride that they have when they talk about their wives.

Why?

“Well, Wataru-san,” Akaashi would answer. “Perhaps this is just what marriage does to you.”

The house was a house like any other.

There was an old pickup truck parked outside the freshly painted gate, carrying crates of fruits and vegetables in its trunk. Along the bricked walls was an overgrowth of vines and ferns. It extended around the windows and crept up the balcony.

A large Shiba ran outside and jumped to your lap as soon as it saw you by the driveway.

Wataru heard Chiaki stir at the back of the car.

“Pay up, asshole,” he grunted, waking a disheveled Ryota who’s still holding a half-bitten melon bread.

His lackey cracked his neck and gave the scenery a cursory glance. “Could be a front.”

Ryota grumbled and went back to sleep.

“Idiot,” Chiaki clicked his tongue. “She traveled all the way to Miyagi just to give intel? And here? Of all places?”

Three days.

They’ve tailed you for three days. Akaashi-san never said anything else, besides that within the week, while he’s gone and sealing deals in another country, there was a high likelihood of you folding and getting out of Tokyo.

To run right here. In Miyagi.

He didn’t say why, really, but Wataru supposes it’s better that he didn’t. Because during the days of absolute, mind-crushing boredom, of watching some suburban wife go out for a morning walk, chat with her neighbors, and shop around the market, rinse and repeat, coming up with the Why had been their only salvation.

The betting pool has two answers: cheater or snitch.

Chiaki was insistent on the former, while Ryota stood by the latter.

And Wataru...Wataru could only watch, waiting with a bated breath as the door finally opened.

“I bet it’s someone younger,” Chiaki said. “Usually is.”

Seems that none of them were winning anything today.

The man who emerged from the house was far older— who, oddly enough, resembled you. An old woman soon followed behind him. Both of them looked at you as if they were witnessing a specter, or someone who's crawled back from the dead. An appropriate comparison, especially since they’re both wearing somber black clothes.

It wasn’t his place to assume. Though he’s been promoted to a slightly higher position, it will never come close to the place that Keiji Akaashi occupies. Wataru knows all of these, but nothing was stopping him from putting the pieces together, no matter what little he has.

They could only stare when all of you broke down into tears, locked in each other’s embrace as you knelt on the pavement.

Don’t let her stay too long.

That had been one of Akaashi-san’s orders.

So the three of them didn’t wait it out. By the time that the sun had set, Wataru had already stepped out of the car, taking Ryota with him. He made sure to remind the boy, just in case he’d forgotten.

“Be gentle, alright?” Wataru reiterated.

There hadn’t been any need for that, it turned out.

He’s sure you’ve never met before, but Wataru saw bitter understanding flash in your eyes when you caught them loitering in front of your house. Fear was there, too, of course.

Wataru was convinced that surely it’s a good thing. It saved everyone a lot of time, that way.

You didn’t even say a word, only giving Wataru a stiff nod when he’d introduced himself, and remained like so on the ride back to Tokyo, with the strap of your handbag trapped by a clenched fist. Wataru didn’t try to initiate small talk; it felt unnecessary.

It took a while for Wataru to realize that you also hadn’t bothered to change out of your pajamas, though he gave you a couple of minutes to say your farewells.

Pajamas, obscured now by a thick, gray coat.

Akaashi-san was right.

You had no plans of coming home. Not tonight. Maybe not for a while.

Wataru decided not to linger on it anymore.

He ignored the blank stare that pierced right through the rear-view mirror. And then, Wataru wondered, hand sweating in his pocket, what the three of them should have for dinner.

Thick chunks of pumpkin melted in your mouth with just the first spoonful of broth.

It'd been a while since the last time Akaashi cooked. So, more than anything, it was the sight of him setting plates and utensils that took you aback, greeting you with a, "Welcome home. You're just in time. Food's ready," his sleeves rolled to his elbows while donning your baby owl-printed apron.

The taste didn't. Surprise you, that is. He's a good cook. Unlike you, who only became marginally better one hundred burn scars later.

It also didn't surprise you that he flew back home at the drop of a hat. Even when he said he'd be gone for a week.

"How is it?" Akaashi asked after chewing. "Took me a while to make it."

It obviously did, you thought. When you arrived, Irma Thomas was already begging through the record player.

"Do you need me, like I need you?" she implored, straight from the heart. "Look at me, I'm crying from holding you."

The last song on your favorite record. It was cheap and had the best from the artists you loved.

Etta James. Ella Fitzgerald. Aretha Franklin. The Mills Brothers. Bessie Smith. All in one vinyl.

"Yeah," you replied, clearing your throat when you realized how hard it is to speak. "It's delicious."

You looked back down to your bowl. The tofu had gone untouched. Your food was still close to spilling to the brim, while Akaashi was almost finished with his, scrolling on his phone laid on the table.

"So no one coaxed you into it," you heard him say, and that had ripped your eyes away from the broth like a bandage on an infected wound.

Akaashi was holding your phone, reading the messages- his number was the only one there, as pealing bells resonated in the dining room.

"I'd think of all the things that I wanted of you," cried Irma Thomas. "To make me forget the pain that you caused."

"I would've known if anyone else talked to you, anyway," he huffed, locking the screen before blowing steam off the morsel.

"You would," you conceded. The tofu was soft when you bit into it, sinking into your teeth.

"I found that in our cabinet. Last time it was in the kitchen drawer, wasn't it?" Akaashi helped himself to a bowl of rice. "Don't leave it in stuffy places. What if you forget where you hid it and you won't know when I call?"

"And I can no longer keep track of where you are for every moment of the day?" you could hear him say. Though he didn't; though all that could heard, besides the scraping of utensils, was Irma Thomas declaring:

A fragile thing, like life. It just don't last so long.

It could be for a minute or an hour. Or then again, from now.

Your lips tightened with a grin. "I won't do it again, sweetheart," you said, spoon hanging limply in your hold.

He didn't need to say it.

That your phone has a tracker. That this house is still the same cage that it'd been before. That the only difference between then and now is that silver band on your finger.

Akaashi’s blinked back at you as he sipped what remained of the soup. You tried to do the same.

The savory taste was cloying and it burned in your throat, so you didn't attempt to finish the bowl. It cut down to your heart, sinking heavily on your stomach, bile rising as the song came to a close.

You gulped it down, though. You had to. And in the final moments, Irma Thompson told you what she really wanted.

"Make me forget," she said, "the pain that you'd caused."

The chorus joined her. "Understanding is a great thing," she concluded. "If it comes from the heart."

Akaashi was on his own phone this time. Most likely checking on the business that he left, judging by those furrowed brows and that long-suffering look in his eyes.

Fizzling noise came at the heels of the fading music. Then, it stopped. And there was nothing left anymore but silence.

It's over now. Akaashi’s making a move to clean up. You were supposed to say, "That was a lovely dinner, honey." Or, you could tell him to sit down and watch a movie with you when he's done.

"I'll help you with the dishes," you wanted to say.

I'll help you with the dishes. It was so easy to say.

Instead, what came out of your mouth was a hushed call for his name.

"Kei-kun," you repeated, brittle and weak and dry.

"I'm so sorry," you might've mouthed.

You could barely hear your own voice as you looked at him. Akaashi paused from tidying the table.

You're parched and a lot has happened today. Gathering the courage to take that first step out of the city had taken what little strength you had. The fear never left you. Seeing your old house almost ended you.

It should be physically impossible for you to still be able to cry. And yet there doesn't seem to be an end to your tears now, the same way your apologies unfurled in an embarrassingly infinite string.

"Don't lock me inside here again," you whispered, clinging to him as he shushed you, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs as he helped you drink a glass of water.

He carried you to your room and sat you down on the bed, right between his thighs. You sobbed into your hands, tears and snot on the sleeves of your pajama top.

"I- I just wanted to see them. That's all. Just one day, Kei-kun. One day. I was gonna come back, I swear."

You're rambling. You're a madwoman pleading and bargaining with a stone-cold judge because playing house is the only thing keeping her alive.

And you messed that up you foolish, foolish girl.

"Please don't hurt my family," you heaved. "They're all I have left."

Akaashi doesn't speak, not for a while, but when he did, you bawled harder.

"I can kill them all," he said, matter of factly.

It is true. Hearing him say it does not make it easier to take, though.

"I can hurt you the same way that you hurt me."

Your neck strained as he tipped your chin towards him with a slender finger.

"I can break you," he muttered, not batting an eye.

That, too, is true. You know it all too well. He said it with such serenity, still and undisturbed by the shaking of your head, because it goes without saying.

Except, you, too, know it.

When he is breaking. When he is falling apart.

He smothered you, taking your entire body to curl against you, making himself small as he pressed his face on your back.

"Yet- and yet I-" Akaashi sniffled. You felt your shirt dampen. "I've given you everything."

When he finally brought his face close to yours, he looked so lost. Almost like a little boy who's on the verge of drowning, clinging desperately onto a lifesaver and too shocked to shout for help.

You hated him all the more for it.

"Each other," he said, snarling, almost, through tears as he grabbed your face with both hands. "That's all we have left, you hear? You and I. Husband and wife."

He seized your jaw and turned it towards the vanity mirror.

The room was dark save for the light in the hallway, peeking into the crack through the doorway.

But you could see yourself. And you could see your hand intertwined in his, your rings gleaming like muted starlights.

"We made a vow," he whispered, kissing your ring finger.

A detached part of you is astonished with how inescapable it is. Whether it be a reward or a punishment; a good day or a bad one.

No matter what happens, you always end up like this, don't you?

Begging to him with your legs spread wide.

You did as you'd always done when he began unbuttoning your top.

You go back to that autumn morning, when you first laid your eyes on him, a cup of coffee in his hand, and you thought that he had the prettiest face you'd ever seen.

You go back to when he was just this really romantic guy who sent you flowers every day. There was a letter, every time.

Nothing too grandiose. Just short messages hoping that you'd have a great day ahead.

He kissed your neck, wet smooches and long, flat-tongued licks dipping down your shoulder.

He watched you through the mirror, his eyes a pair of darkened blues daring you to look away.

Akaashi Keiji was your boyfriend, you told yourself. You dated him for quite some time before you married.

Akaashi Keiji got along well with your father and doted on your mother. On Sundays, you visit them and they send you back to Tokyo with ripe watermelons.

Akaashi Keiji has never hurt you.

The man tracing the hem of your bra, cupping your clothed tits and drawing lazy circles over nipples, however, did.

(And he still will in future. He still is, right now.)

This man is the real one.

And you have angered him, so he will not make this easy for you.

"What did you promise me?" Akaashi whispered as he lightly bit the shell of your ear. "Or have you forgotten?"

Of course, you haven't forgotten. You were chained to this very room when you made them, after all.

"N-no, I remember," you said, catching your breath. "I remember, Kei-kun."

"Then say it," he said. "Look at me."

You shivered as his palms swept over your stomach; as he unfastened your bra, letting it fall down your arms.

"Look at me when you say it."

You felt your nipples harden, gooseprickles spread all over you, as the air hit your bare skin, cooling the sweat that made it glisten.

"Please," he rasped.

The eyes of the woman in the mirror was hooded, threatening to close as she puffed with each squeeze and caress to her tits, swiveling her hips against her husband’s crotch as he grinded into her.

"I will be happy," she said.

Akaashi nuzzled your temple, using his rough fingers to tease your nipples just as he did, brushing them to and fro, then grazing the bumpy skin around until you're squeaking out his name.

And when he began pressing down on the stiff peaks with his thumbs, before rolling and pulling at them, the heels of his palm digging into your tits, you saw the woman claw at her husband's hair, a graceless affair that almost scratched his eye out, making him reach for both her arms to wrap them around his neck.

"I- I will..!" Her lips parted in a breathless scream and it was disgusting how lewd she appeared. "I will not run away!"

The streak of tears on his cheeks touched yours when he kissed you. His lips were soft and warm, his wet tongue gliding in so slowly as he deepened the kiss with a throaty groan.

His other hand crawled down to your soaked panties. You couldn't contain the mewl that left you.

Both of you gasped and struggled to breathe again after you parted from each other.

"You understand, don't you?" he rasped.

Two of his fingers slid down your folds, only to slither back up, then down again, smearing your cunt with its own slick.

But he never touched your swollen clit, even though it's throbbing and aching to be rubbed and the hard bulge sitting between your ass grew harder the more you squirmed in his hold, whimpering like a bitch in heat.

You heard your husband sigh, his hot breath tickling you when he said, "This isn't about you now."

Belly pushed into the edge of the dressing table, rattling and battering against the wall with each forceful thrust, and your leg perched atop it, made numb by Akaashi's grip on your thigh.

That was the first thing that you could recall when you opened your eyes.

But your entire body was screaming in pain, so you knew that everything else that happened last night would come back to you soon enough.

The flesh had a memory of its own.

You sat up with a groan and you didn't have to see the marks to know.

His teeth were still nipping at you, biting you until they drew blood, only to follow with an apologetic lapping of his tongue.

You could feel him beneath you, his hands clawing you down to him, palms kneading your ass cheeks as you bounced up and down on his cock.

You could feel him above you, gripping your wrists not unlike the cuffs that once kept you shackled. He had your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling you close to him, filling you up with loads and loads of cum, squelching every time he sank down your weeping hole.

And when your vision began to blur at the edges, he carried your body, mere seconds into fainting, to the dressing table.

The evidence of that stared back at you in shameful streaks and smudges, traces of your fingers on the mirror when he rammed your cunt from behind.

"Are you happy?" Akaashi whispered.

You don't know.

When he's just your husband who comes home to your arms and brings you sweets because he knows how much you love them; who dances with you in the kitchen and listens intently to you when you talk about that cute dog you saw at the park, were you happy, then?

You don't know, but the woman in the mirror, in that moment, surely was.

She even said, "Yes, yes, Kei-kun, right there, fuck me right there!"

Her pupils were blown wide, eyes rolling almost over to the back of her head. And despite the cries that escaped her, there was a wide, dissipated smile on her lips, spit trailing down her chin.

"Look at you," Akaashi said, grunting when your walls tightened around his shaft. "You're clearly happy with me."

"So why? Why'd you even think of leaving?" He rocked his hips, grinding his thick cock against that spot that had you holding onto the mirror. "Don't ever do that to me again."

You told him no, no, you won't run away again, but it didn't seem to placate his unease, nor his tears.

"I'm so scared, everyday, that you'll leave me and- and- it feels like hell. I would rather die."

He kissed your nape as he huffed and said, "Because I don't know what I'll do without you."

You never really understood why; what about you had caused him to single you out in the sea of people that had vied for his attention. Especially now as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

There were dark circles under your eyes and Akaashi’s t-shirt was rumpled on your body, engulfing you whole with its size— a far cry from that lovely, dazzling bride that his best friend, Bokuto, had described you as on your wedding day.

But you’re aware, more than anyone, that Akaashi Keiji is the last person to care about appearances.

When he entered the room, carrying a tray in his hands, he gazed at that disheveled girl with eyebags big enough to be dragged around the same way he looked at her when he waited for her at the end of the aisle.

“I made you pancakes,” he muttered, clearing his throat as he sat down beside you.

You were tired so it didn’t dawn on you as quickly as it should that he made them the way you preferred. Four fluffy pieces stacked atop one another, sprinkled with powdered sugar, whipped cream and a smattering of berries on the side.

He fiddled with his fingers when you only stared at it, so you immediately took the fork in your hand and sliced the pancake in half.

“I’ll be taking some time off work,” Akaashi said as you took the food in your mouth. You only nodded, having noticed that he wasn’t wearing the usual bespoke suit as soon as he entered the room.

You felt him near you; felt his hand, warm to touch, cup your face.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His eyes were misty and, this close, it seemed that he, too, wasn’t in a good shape. “So please-” Akaashi licked his chapped lips, “Please don’t go.”

“I won’t,” you replied, giving him the smile that you knew he needed. “I promise.”

Then, as you moved to kiss him on the cheek, the chains that tethered you to the bedpost clinked softly beneath the blanket, and you didn’t bother to keep the tears at the bay.

Akaashi wiped them for you when you said that you loved him. And when he asked why, you only shrugged and told him that the pancakes were so sweet that they could make anyone cry.

#tw noncon #tw non con haikyuu #akaashi x y/n #akaashi x female reader #Dark content haikyuu #yandere akaashi keiji

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