#a character that i totally thought was safe got killed......the author maybe IS thinking about the politics even a little.......

[storybook-souls]

my mediocre-but-it-compels-me ya audiobook series has maybe taken an unexpectedly awesome turn halfway through the third and final book????????? this NEVER happens usually the last book is the WORST one......

[burnedbyshoto]

the bodyguard

— Kirishima gets assigned to be the bodyguard to one of the worlds greatest idols: you. —

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, brat taming, authority kink, spanking, blowjob, slapping, choking, brat taming, brat!reader, modern!au, no quirks, bodyguard!kirishima, idol!reader, PTSD portrayal, anxiety, war flashbacks, implied minor character death, drugging, alcohol consumption, size difference: kirishima is 2 feet taller than you, regardless of the reader’s original height. If you’re 6 ft congrats he’s 8 ft.

word count: 20,500

a/n: this is for the bnharem collab.... im so sorry, it’s 4:30 am and I have a plane to catch in 2 hours to get back to school. thank you jo for proofreading this for me because lol I am a mess. if the paragraph spacing did not work as I wish it does, please let me know so I can go in and edit in visible paragraph spacers!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“I’ll be okay.”

The smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clung to the air.

The sun was setting, its blood-red shine illuminating against the destroyed earth, making the already bloodied soil even bloodier. 

There was no telling if the land was quiet, if the reason why the world's silence was because the world just for this moment had gone silent, or if the earlier explosions were still ringing in his ears.

Kirishima sat wounded, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide, breathing erratic. He can’t move, can’t bother picking up the gun that lays abandoned by his knee as warm, sticky liquid spills onto his clothed knees and continues to soak the fabric of his jeans.

What had he done?

What in the fucking world had he done?!

BOOM!

Kirishima stills, his eyes stilling on the floor and looking at the clear moisture. He doesn’t need to touch his face to know it’s a combination of both sweat and tears. 

His ears sing with white noise, the erratic beat of his heart, and his pained breathing.

“I’ll be okay,” the ghost taunts his mind.

But I’m not okay, Kirishima tries to speak, but knows with how his tongue is sitting like a thick dried sponge in his mouth, he won’t be able to speak. Pushing off the cold floor, flops onto his back, his arm flinging over his closed, shaken eyes until the ringing in his ear disappears into his alarm clock. 

05:30.

Kirishima lays there for a bit more, his chest still heaving heavily with the weight of lead.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Better?

No, not yet.

Kirishima runs through breathing exercises, his chest never stopping in it’s hiccuped, broken pants as his memories continue to haunt his mind. If only he was smarter, more observant, better.

“Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up,” his phone screams with his second alarm set at 06:45. The sound does what it’s intended, jolting Kirishima out of his own head. His labored breathing shallowing just enough for his lungs to finally grasp ahold of its required function.

Today was an important day for him; he needed to be on his tiptop game, according to what Toshinori said yesterday.

I’m okay, he convinced himself as he does every morning after having this dream. Kirishima flings his arm off his eyes, the morning purple sun shining softly through his blinds. I’m okay.

Date: 4/2 Time: 08:00 Location: UA Services

“And in other news, music industries princess Y/n has been attacked by yet another round of masked perpetrators. Fortunately for the music idol, she was left unhurt but was clearly rattled. This is but the fourth attack on Y/n since three weeks ago. It’s leaving many of us fans, spectators, and civilians wondering just what is being done to ensure her safety? Y/n is reported to not have a single bodyguard to her name, wanting to quote-on-quote ‘experience her fans to the fullest’, but with these recent attacks, we can’t help but hope something is done. At least until something is done about these attackers—”

Kirishima’s eyes tore away from the screen, his lips pressed into a deep frown as he took in the story. There was deep worry about it, not only because he hated the idea of people getting hurt, but because he was a big fan of yours.

Your debut album had come out during his training camp for the military. Not only was it an instant billboard smasher breaking every standing record, but his commanding officers were obsessed with the album and played it continuously until they graduated. Most of Kirishima’s comrades came to dislike your music solely because they remember throwing up, bleeding, and suffering while you sang about love and whatnot, but Kirishima? Kirishima fell in love.

It was a bright spot in his life, and he was grateful for your music, even if it has been ten years and six albums since the training camp.

“Yo, Kiri!” a voice cheered out happily as a hand clasped onto his shoulder from behind. Kirishima held the flinch that threatened to rip through his bones. Kirishima turned to find Kaminari grinning up at him, a cup of steaming tea in one hand as he grinned brightly at his coworker. “I heard you’re finally getting a good case today!”

Kirishima found himself relaxing at the sight of his rather spontaneous friend, a warm smile easing onto his face as he raised his fist for a greeting fist bump.

“We’ll see, I know Toshi’ said it was going to be important, but he also said escorting the paranoid old lady was important,” Kirishima sighed, his smile softening a bit.

Kaminari laughed, his arm slinging around Kirishima’s shoulders as he remembered that.

The little old lady was sure that the government was out to kill her and wanted protection until her son returned from his vacation. Needless to say, Kirishima had thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, even if she was a bit scary. It was a low-risk job, and he only was paranoid by her cane, which she used to thwack his back many times as she talked about how plums extended your life.

“God, I remember subbing in for you for one hour because of your family emergency, and she was so scary! She still haunts my nightmares!” Kaminari shudders, placing the cup of his tea to his lip and taking a long, slow drink. His eyes shift over to the TV, which is still broadcasting the story of your attack. “What a bunch of bastards,” he growls, eyebrows scrunching as the news reporter ends the segment. “Thinking they can go after such a beautiful and talented idol… I’ll kill them.”

Kirishima was more than well aware of Kaminari’s plentiful budding romances. The blond man fell in love with just about any smiling woman who happened to waltz in front of him. Still, unlike most times, he found himself agreeing with him.

“It sounds really serious. I hope that she really considers some type of security team,” Kirishima inputs too, taking the teacup in his fingers with a nod of thanks. “There’re too many weirdos in Japan and in the world, I wouldn’t want to hear the news the day something bad happens.”

Kaminari hums, his face nearing Kirishima’s as he takes a small sip of the apparently black tea. His eyes scrunch, and Kirishima smiles awkwardly as the blond studies him intently.

“W-Wha—”

“You like Y/n!” Kaminari exclaims (accuses, maybe?), his arm leaving Kirishima’s shoulders as he points a finger accusingly at him. “I thought I was the only one in this department who did!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Denki,” the familiar voice of Sero responds for Kirishima. “Everyone in the world is in love with Y/n; she was voted the favorite artist of the year in our company. Everyone but Bakugou voted for her if I remember correctly.”

Kirishima looks over at his black-haired friend who is rummaging through his locker, his mouth curved into an easy, teasing smile as he looks between the bashful Kaminari and sneering Bakugou, who also seemed to just walk in.

“Her shit is basic and overrated,” Bakugou defended himself. “Nothing special and bad for your brain and ears.”

“Your go-to music playlist is fifty percent death metal and alt. rock. I don’t think you have ground to say that it’s bad for your brain and ears,” Midoriya’s snicker sounded from behind Kirishima, and he looked around to see the freckled man grinning at the snarling ash blond.

“And how does your stalker ass know that, shitnerd?!”

“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”

“Oh, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun! You’re both here! Todoroki-kun is looking for you!”

“I’m just saying that Y/n’s dates to all the award shows and premieres have been blond. She’s into blonds, so she would totally be into me!”

“Deku, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you myself.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to protect Y/n, bro. The only thing you performed well on in the application process was the tasing part. You can’t even tase people repetitively! She’d be dead in a second.”

“Can you believe my client dropped me because I couldn’t cook a five-star meal correctly? Hello, I can make 7-11 into a five-star course; it’s not my fault they’re not refined.”

“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”

“I deadass got into a dance competition on the way to work. That’s why I’m late, why would I lie? Of course, I had to compete; my reputation was on the line!”

“Kirishima-kun?”

“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”

“Kirishima?!”

“Can you hear us?!”

Silence.

Kirishima found himself opening his eyes — when had he closed them? For a moment, the air turned coppery, his body feeling weak, and he thought he felt something heavy on his lap. But that wasn’t right; he was standing up, he wasn’t sitting down. Most importantly, he was in Tokyo, Japan. He was alright. He was safe.

The sweat that clung to the back of his neck was cold, clammy, and intrusive. His chest felt tight again, his hands shaking so harshly the tea's warm, dark liquid was sloshing onto the floor.

There were seven pairs of eyes on him, each a different color, each swimming with concern and other emotions. Kirishima knew his ears weren’t working right now, his face unable to meet his brain's screaming demands to smile, and he watched as their mouths moved as they questioned his sanity.

He was okay.

He was okay.

He was okay.

“Kirishima?”

Kirishima looked up, his neck craning to the side to see a tall, skinny man standing at the doorway. 

Toshinori Yagi was an esteemed bodyguard, one of the best in the industry, which was saying something considering that most bodyguards went unknown and unnamed. According to Google, Toshinori gained the nickname All Might after saving multiple political and celebrity lives when the government could not. It was long after his prime, and the man had retired but has since filled as the company’s head — thus why this job was near impossible to get.

Kirishima heaved a breath, realizing that he hadn’t taken a single breath when Toshinori’s bruised eyes narrowed in his concern.

“C-Coming,” Kirishima smiled, the blood rushing to his ears mostly ignorable now, but the scorching concerned gazes of his friends feel like cinders on his shoulder.

He straightens his tie, fingers curling when he feels the cold sweat penetrating through his clothes, but Kirishima doesn’t let it show. Smiling like he does, Kirishima pushed through his friends and followed Toshinori out the door.

They walked down towards the conference rooms, rooms that held their contractors, in complete silence.

“This is an important case,” Toshinori began, his voice gentle and poorly hiding his concern. “I chose you because you are a great asset to have, Kirishima. You are strong and smart, and most importantly, are personable.”

Kirishima looked at the man, his face contorting with his anxiety. He didn’t want to be treated like glass.

“Honestly, you being so personable is why I chose you for this assignment. Todoroki-shounen was a contender at first, but he’s not much of a talker; the same goes for Bakugou-shounen. Midoriya-shounen was probably the best choice, but there’s a new assignment that asked for three, so I gave up those three,” Toshinori explained the current assignments. It both delighted Kirishima to hear that he could keep up with arguably the three most qualified workers here as it did, at times, make him feel lesser. 

“Oh.”

But he was obviously not the first choice still.

“The only reason why you weren’t the first choice is because of what I walked into just now,” Toshinori interrupts Kirishima’s thoughts and words. Kirishima finds his eyes tearing away from the smooth, polished wood floor to see Toshinori stopping in front of Conference Room A, his gaze intense on him. “To be frank, I wasn’t too sure if we should have hired you all that time ago. You are excellent on the field, your skills are phenomenal. Something to be proud of, truly, but you are clearly not completely healed from your time on the force.”

“Toshinori—”

“Kirishima-shonen, I’m not saying that there’s shame in your current struggles,” Toshinori once again interrupts, his hand a soothing warmth on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m still not healed from my past injuries, and as many people have undoubtedly told you, it’s okay to not be okay. But you barely passed the psych evaluation and only passed your field training because you scored so phenomenally on the other things your lack of a shooting score passed you.”

Kirishima felt unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the lump in his throat never tasted as bitter, as sad.

He had barely passed the admittance test.

“I just need to know, are you ready to take on this assignment?” Toshinori asks in complete seriousness. “It’s a high stake, big-name client. We do not expect anything untoward to happen, but we never know in these cases. I think highly of you, Kirishima-shonen, and if you are ready to take this on, I’ll believe you, but likewise, if you’re not, I will gladly give this to someone else.”

Kirishima swallowed, his dry tongue passing through his equally dry lips.

Without question, he was not okay, not when he nearly broke down twice in a matter of hours, but it was just a bad day. He wasn’t as shaken as he was two months ago; he was going to his mandated therapy, talking to people who could assist him. Kirishima just didn’t want to be treated like glass anymore; he wasn’t glass; he was an unbreakable force.

Steeling over his nerves and ignoring how his stomach twisted and turned, Kirishima raised his gaze to Toshinori.

“I can do it.”

A smile.

“Good.”

If Kirishima was sweating because he was on a mental slip earlier, he was now sweating because he was beyond petrified and embarrassed. His hands raised up to brush against his red spikey hair, praying to God that it didn’t look dumb. His legs bounced at a speed that was bordering insanity, but he could only hear the sound of his racing heart as he stared at your frowning form from across the table.

It was you — the Y/n, the world's biggest music idol, an absolute legend in the making.

“This is our very own Kirishima Eijirou, age twenty-eight. He has been with U.A.Services for approximately six months now and is without a doubt one of our most capable and well-serviced men,” Toshinori began the introduction to the three people on the other side of the table. Kirishima could feel a blush rising up his neck and settling into his cheeks as what he presumed to be you, your manager, and your lawyer shuffling through paperwork that was very thorough on his background. “He was enlisted in the military before joining our ranks and was honorably discharged at the age of twenty-six as First Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou due to extreme injury. He excels in negotiating, scouting, and is, as you know, a skilled close combatant and was skilled in handguns—”

“I don’t think he’ll need firearms,” you interrupt, a frown on your face in contrast to the bright smile Kirishima was so used to seeing on your face. He tensed in worry.

“Y/l/n!” your manager, Sato Kimiko, scolded.

“What? It’s true! We’ll be around my fans for the majority, if not all the time! How is that right? For him to have a firearm around defenseless, and may I add, harmless individuals?!” you argued, your eyebrows scrunching in your fury.

Kirishima felt frozen in his chair, his eyes seeking Toshinori for guidance, but found himself unable to look away from you. He knew nearly everything about you, he could admit with a proud grin that he was a super mega fan of you, and he might have, at one point, looked your height up to imagine how you would appear beside him. Kirishima had known this entire time that you were two feet shorter than him, but it hadn’t hit what that meant until he was shaking your hand when he first entered.

You were tiny.

His dick and mind really liked that, and seeing your own passion spilling out for your fans was making him fall deeper into this hole he had for you.

“You don’t have a say anymore? Do you understand? You were nearly assaulted yesterday, and we are all done waiting around for something serious to happen!” Kimiko yelled, her face contorted into a look of both frustration and fear. “Either you take this, or we all leave you. I won’t have you murdered in front of me! You’re twenty-six now, stop acting like a damn brat and grow the hell up!”

The words scorched the table, blistering heat filling the conference room as you met Kimiko’s glare.

Kirishima watched with a dropped jaw as your nostrils flared, your lips pursing, and your eyebrows furrowing with unspoken distaste and anger.

“Six months tops.”

“Uh, yes,” Toshinori interjected. “Our contracts only last up to six months for new clients, but if you find yourself wanting to extend your contract after those six months, we are very much open to negotiations.”

You nodded your head, your eyes falling back onto the booklet in your hands that exposed all the information available on Kirishima. From his likes, dislikes, to his allergies and the reason why he was discharged. Each in disturbingly deep detail to make sure all things were up on the table.

“So, you can’t shoot your gun, Kirishima-san?” you speak, your voice tight, a pleased, almost taunting tone.

Kirishima stills, embarrassment bubbling in his chest as you drop the booklet onto the table, exposing his military history to him and you. 

“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.

The lawyer shifts from the other side of you, his eyebrows scrunching as he too comes across that piece of information. 

“He won’t use firearms?” the lawyer scoffs, his semi-permanent frown deepening. “How will we know that he will keep Y/n completely safe from any sort of danger that may come her way? We’ll be paying six months for a glorified security guard? We want a bodyguard.”

“And we clearly have one,” you snap back, your eyes narrowing. “If my bodyguard isn’t Kirishima-san, I’m not getting one. I mean, isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“When we were assuming that the person Toshinori was assigning to your case was a well-rounded bodyguard. Not one that was still clearly haunted by his past.”

Fuck, that one hurt.

You scowled, your head tilting as you bared your teeth slightly, “And what? He managed to get into the best agency in all of Japan in spite of that. Sounds like he’s competent. I already told you I won’t take on a team, just one individual. I trust in Toshinori-san’s guidance and his choice in picking Kirishima-san. If you disagree, that’s too bad for you.”

“Y/n! Please stop this! You’re being ridiculous!” Kimiko huffed, slamming her own booklet down, her eyes drowning with her exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori-san, Kirishima-san.”

“H-Hey, it’s okay!” Kirishima immediately imputed, his hands raising in a sign of retreat. “I know that Y/n has always enjoyed her independence as a solo star, and how me being involved now is imposing, especially after multiple attacks.”

Kirishima felt that his smile was a bit strained, a bit too forced, especially as your eyes hawked onto him. He felt like you were examining him, like a lab rat going through its initial trial and not knowing just what was to be expected.

“Six months?” you spoke, your gaze not leaving Kirishima’s own.

“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.

You hum, your head nodding. “Fine, six months tops unless the Lieutenant Colonel can apprehend these assholes faster.”

It had been ages since Kirishima had been called by his title, and for some reason, he found himself blushing. His mouth, for the first time this entire meeting, curled into a wolfish grin.

“You got it.”

The lawyer groaned, entirely aggravated and insulted. He stood up, “You’re asking to be murdered, Y/n. Don’t come haunting me when you end up dead and mutilated. You deserve all the shit you’re getting.”

Kirishima watched with his lips parted in a bewildered expression as the lawyer walked out of the room with a loud slam of the door.

You were unfazed, and Kimiko groaned, exhausted and embarrassed as she mumbled a weak, sullen, “I am so, so sorry, Toshinori-kun.”

“Ah, Kimiko-chan, it’s okay!” Toshinori shook his head and smiled knowingly. It wasn’t as if the long time famous bodyguard hadn’t seen his fair share of childish fights between clients. “Thank you for coming as always, and we’ll do our best to make sure that Y/n is in the best of hands.”

“Thank you… and so, the rest of the contract?”

“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”

So, the contract was discussed to full detail.

For six months, Kirishima would be attached to your side. He must always remain at most three meters away from you when there is no one around, and during fan interactions no more than one meter. He had a full say about your safety. If things got rough, you were to follow his every command. Your agency would pay for his room and lodging. He was to wear black pants and a black long-sleeved cotton tee. He would be working with every venue, every hotel, every conventions security team. He would lead them and never leave your side. He was to be awake an hour before you, rest when you were asleep so long as it was safe to do so. He was your guardian angel of sorts, and you would do nothing but adhere to him. 

Most importantly, according to Kimiko, there was one thing they were hoping for: Kirishima's help and discretion. For the next six months, they would be relying on Kirishima’s support to figure out who the group behind the assault was and who the mastermind was behind it all is.

Or so the contract said.

“Y/n!” Kirishima called when the papers were signed, and the day he was set to start was printed. He will begin tomorrow. “Wait!”

You stopped at the door, Kimiko and Toshinori chatting merrily between them as they exited the conference room, Toshinori’s booming voice asking if it was true that Kimiko was attending to a near forty clients to which she bashfully admitted to. You were dressed in a creme knit long-sleeved shirt, faded ripped jeans, and a pair of nude heels. The heels were big, undoubtedly giving you inches, but you still barely got to his shoulder.

“I-I’m looking forward to looking — I mean working with you!”

You looked at him closely, your eyes dragging to the top of his toes to the tallest spike in his hair before your lips pulled into a contemplative pout. You looked back to his eyes, and you steeled over, your head tilting to the side.

“I mean no offense, Sergeant, I thank you for doing your job, but I have no intention of looking forward to working with you. I don’t want you here, so do your best to ignore the contract and realize that I am the most important person, so you will follow my demands.”

Kirishima can do nothing but stare as you turn on your heel and leave.

Well, so much for a good case.

Date: 5/2 Time: 14:00 Location: Tokyo Music Stadium

If you would have told Kirishima Eijirou that he had been working for the grand, the perfect, the fantastic music idol Y/n for a month now, two months ago, he would have laughed so hard he’d cry. Not only would he have not believed it, but he would only think of a million and two scenarios where he would go the entire day flirting.

Now a month into knowing you, of being your bodyguard on a contract for six months, Kirishima could say that of that entire thought, the only thing he had been right about was that he was, in fact, crying. Not only has he never managed to speak an entire conversation with you despite being attached to your hip seven days a week, but despite your much shorter stature, you had managed to get away from him.

You always managed to sneak away from him.

Kirishima could admit that the no more than five meters rule had been wholly and utterly demolished.

And now, Kirishima was crying, not out of joy, but of pure manly fear as he raced through the backstages of the stadium, desperate to find your short-ass anywhere.

“Go, Kirishima!” someone yelled as Kirishima whizzed past him, “Find Y/n!”

“T-Thank you!” Kirishima screamed as he continued onward, the yellow-lit concrete hallway seemingly haunting the further he went into it. The earpiece in his left ear shrilled, the telling sign he was getting a call. Putting a finger to the circle in his ear, he answered the car. “Hello?!”

“Ah, Kirishima-san!” Kimiko’s voice chirped on the other side of the line. “Wonderful to hear your voice again! I’m calling to let you know that the tour bus is parked outside of the venue now. The concert was a smashing success, and she’s come out unharmed for the past month! To make matters even better, since your arrival, there have been no more assault attempts! Oh, um, sorry, where are you guys?”

“We’re just, um!” Kirishima tried not to pant into the microphone; he was still racing ahead, his head peeking into every door and room he passed. “Y/n needed to use the restroom?!”

“Oh, wonderful. Okay! Let me know when you two are on your way over!”

“Ya, okay, bye!”

“By—”

Kirishima hung up as he crashed through the doors at the end of the hallway.

It was night out right now, the full moon reflecting down on the dirty concrete with the same intensity as the streetlamps overhead. And in the middle of a crowd of around twenty people was the person Kirishima was trying to find: you.

You were still dressed in the final costume change of your concert. Even from a distance, Kirishima could see the glitter and highlight on the tip of your nose and the curve of your cheekbones. The crowd around you was clearly not hostile. Each face was bright with broad smiles and sparkling with fresh tears, each voice high and pitchy as if they were talking with some goddess and not you. 

There was a slight longing in Kirishima’s chest at the sight of you interacting with your fans, your smile was so beautiful, and he wished just for a moment that he was the one that it was directed towards. If he had met you as a fan, and only a fan, he wonders if you would look at him as you did the others. Would he see the pure joy in the depths in your eyes, the love, wonder, and pride as they asked you questions and answered your own?

He wanted to be just a fan.

“Y/n, the tour bus is here,” Kirishima finally found his voice, the tenor of his voice spreading through the narrow alleyway. “Say your goodbyes.”

He had to ignore the way you stiffened immediately, the unsolicited joy in your face breaking and becoming bleak as you met his gaze. Kirishima absolutely did not feel pressure behind his eyes when you rolled your eyes and began to say your goodbyes; he did not!

The group of fans waved goodbye as you walked backward toward Kirishima; you didn’t stop waving and continuing your parting conversations with the group until the metal doors of the stadium doors closed behind the two of you. Kirishima let out a sigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking down at you. You were expressionless, eyes cold as you looked dead ahead.

“You’re not supposed to run away like that.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t tell me what to do, Sergeant.”

“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”

“Part of your contract. Yeah, I know, but that’s your contract, not mine.”

“Oh, okay. Um, Kimiko? ...yeah, we’re heading out now. Five minutes, till.”

And then there’s only silence.

Neither Kirishima nor you bother talking the entire walk towards the tour bus, and you ignore Kimiko’s call that your lawyer would be meeting briefly before tomorrow's fan signing event. You walk into the bus and go directly to the beds, throwing yourself into the terribly padded bunk and passing out without so much as a sound.

Kirishima sinks into his own bed, it’s too small for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Sleep overcomes him easily these days; he’s always way too exhausted in chasing you down like some spoiled toddler you’re behaving like to dream. But that’s okay, he thinks as the comfort of sleep begins to dig its skeleton fingers into his side, at least the exhaustion stops the night terrors.

Date: 5/3 Time: 10:00 Location: Tokyo Music Tower

Now, Kirishima knew that it was a common belief and a nearly proven theory that when you met your idols, you should never ever have your expectations high on who they are as a person. Celebrities were out of touch, cruel, rude, nearly jaded. They weren’t exactly the common folk. With people willing to forget things like them being human beings themselves or the common thread of celebrities being too rich to care, any type of famous person was cold, rude, and ruthless.

He knew that.

He also knew that you weren’t like the nearly proven theory.

You were kind, sweet, a practical angel to anyone who dared to approach you. You were the exception to the rule, an outlier to them all. You spoke politely to all your fans, domestic and foreign, and you treated each fan like the most special person in the world.

You were a good person.

But Kirishima knew, just as you reacted to any cruel person you encountered, you had an edge. Your words were as vicious as your name was known. He genuinely enjoyed watching you put assholes into place, but he sulked, knowing he was always at the receiving end of the sharp, bitter tongue of yours.

For a month and a day now, he had been the number target of your bitter words and scorching hate, but he admitted that he enjoyed it when it wasn’t directed at him, if but a little bit.

“I’m not renegotiating my contract!” you groan, your palms slamming into the depths of your eyes. “I already told you that I don’t need all that money!”

“And I’m telling you that you need to increase the wages that you pay the rest of your team instead of all those charities or else people will begin dropping you!” the lawyer countered with similar fire, his scowl angry enough that Kirishima felt like he had to tear his gaze away from this horrible battle. “You won’t be the best of the best forever, y/n, get over your stupid savior act and look over the changes!”

Kirishima looked over at you, his eyebrows pinching as he watched you fold your arms, your cheeks pushed out to a puff as you looked at the stack of papers with the title page fully covered with the word Contract of Y/n and Co. on it. Well, it seemed that the rumor of you spending your paycheck on things that weren’t you was right, how entirely manly.

“Oh fuck off,” you growl, pushing out of the chair and storming away.

Kirishima glanced over at Kimiko, who was looking pale and exhausted, undoubtedly exhausted from the past thirty-minute battle between the lawyer and the idol that neither made a single step forward nor a step back. How you had the energy to fight so passionately was beyond him. Kimiko nodded minimally, her lips parting in a sigh as Kirishima stood up and followed after her.

“The only way that brat is going to listen is by force,” the lawyer sneered, his voice fading into the room that Kirishima exited. “If that’s how she wants to play, so be it.”

Fortunately for Kirishima, he catches up to you. There are tears of fury dripping down your cheeks, and he feels unable to speak as he discovers a new layer to you.

...how interesting.

“It’s my money,” you speak, but Kirishima is unsure if those words are meant for him or for the void, the earth that you would much rather converse with than him. “I already pay them all a much greater paycheck than they should be getting considering their client pool. Why do I have to bend to their stupid will when I’m the one making the money.”

Kirishima blinks, wondering just what people might want to raise with their contracts. But, he knew you were right. By her account, Kimiko had a client list of many successful individuals, and he may not know anything about the lawyer, but if he worked with Y/n, his name must be good. Guess they weren’t like you.

“People are selfish assholes,” was the only thing that Kirishima could think of, and was something he spoke before he could stop himself.

But you stop in your storm, the anger that clouded you somewhat dissipating, clearing just enough for you to turn to him, your sharp, beautiful eyes for the first time filled with rage that was not pointed at him, and an emotion that made him think of… amusement?

“Yeah,” you agree, a half-smile cracking onto your face, and Kirishima feels his soul begin leaving his very body. “People are selfish assholes, huh?”

“Very much.”

There’s a calm, a snorted chuckle, and Kirishima finds himself stumbling further into the abyss of his feelings for you.

The next ten hours seem to pass in a blur, Kirishima feeling like he was on Cloud Nine as he stood behind you, three meters as he watched fan after fan approach you. Signatures were made, pictures were taken, and Kirishima found that he never once had to approach.

Maybe, he thinks, just perhaps, the two of you can overcome this.

Ten minutes after the official signing is done, Kirishima can’t find you, and he curses loudly into the echoing floor.

So much for change.

Date: 5/17 Time: 23:00 Location: The Parking Lot - Mt. Lady Studios

Kirishima was, for the lack of better words, completely fucking done with you.

Don’t get it wrong, he still was a complete and massive fan of yours. He would never once betray his loyalty to you and your musical career, but he was slowly starting to realize just why the lawyer was set to dying of a heart attack any time soon. Despite your early entrance to stardom and the stuff of legends, you had kept your fiery, stubborn individualism.

Kirishima thought it was absolutely hot and sexy at times, especially the times where you strut around in revealing clothes because ‘this is your body,’ or the lingerie campaign you completed two days ago as part of some fundraising event. There were significant perks to your strong handle and claim to keeping your indestructible personality, but it came back to rub them all back in the worst of ways when once again, you escaped from Kirishima’s side.

To be fair, most of the time, Kirishima was a very level headed individual; he was near impossible to rile up despite popular initial belief. I mean, he was good friends with Bakugou Katsuki, who riled up just about anyone he talked to! He needed to have steel calm emotions, or at the very least portray that he does. But even the unbreakable after tireless attempts can, at times, be broken.

It had been a hard morning.

Kirishima had woken up in a panic, the sweat of his night terror soaking through the sheets of his bed, and his head felt like lead. They had been in the tour bus for the entire day because you were going from the tip of Japan to the bottom of it, thus meaning that you couldn’t run away from him, concluding that when he went to bed that night, he was merely tired, not exhausted.

“K...Kiri...shima?” the voice whispered in his ears when he bolted from his bed and tumbled to the ground, his chest heaving in his panic as he cried.

He only slept for four hours that night, the ghost of his comrade haunting him too much for him to ever drift back to sleep. The only thing he was grateful for when he stumbled down to the hotel lobby for breakfast was that he had an attack while in his own room and not in a tour bus with ten others.

But the lack of sleep and the twisting of his guts from his still unburied memories meant that his exhaustion was dialed up larger than he thought was capable. Today was an interview day plus a miniconcert at said interview.

That meant that for an hour before your interview and two hours afterward, Kirishima lost you and had to hunt you down. You weren’t making it easy on him and had started moving with the crowd you gathered to evade him.

But today, Kirishima was exhausted.

Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.

Today… Kirishima broke.

“Let’s go,” Kirishima spoke in a low, commanding voice. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you, the crowd of fans parting like the red sea as he stands behind you, larger than life, imposing.

You ignore him.

“We’re leaving, now.”

“Aw, did you make that just for me?! This beading is gorgeous!”

To be fair, Kirishima isn’t really sure if he’s crying right now or if steam is protruding from his ears like some stupid cartoon. The only thing he knows is that it's been a bit longer than a month, and his client is the most perfect person in the world except to him and some lawyer. All he knows is that he has been continuously mocked, shamed, and disrespected by his client, and at this moment, with his mind and body aching with the memories of the morning, he can no longer stop the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that shove out of him.

He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.

“We’re leaving now, sorry to disrupt your time. Come see Y/n another day.”

Kirishima isn’t even aware of your screams, the banging of your small fist against his back as his hand encompasses your bicep easily. He walks and walks and walks until he stops, his mind slightly put back into place.

“—FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! LET GO OF ME, SERGEANT!”

Oh, right.

He lets go of you immediately and nearly snorts at how you stumble into his back. So small, so delicate, and so completely weak.

“You want to know my problem, y/l/n?” he asks, voice eerily calm, much calmer than he actually is. “My fucking problem is that I signed onto this case with a single rule: keep you in sight and protect you. It’s simple, almost too easy, isn’t it? But easy and simple is everything that this assignment is!”

Your face contorted into a flash of anger and embarrassment, your nose scrunching as you found your footing, “And I told you that I don’t give a crap about that contract! I didn’t want it in the first place, but no one listens to me!”

Kirishima snorts, his body shifting so that he can look at you properly; your face is seething, your teeth bared and eyes wild, but Kirishima has faced worse.

“It’s not in my contract to listen to you, unfortunately,” Kirishima points out, his eyes narrowing. “I would have a better time listening to you, trying to find an agreement that worked if you used that brain of yours and figured out a way to compromise with me.”

“Compromises aren’t—”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Kirishima almost whines, his voice tight with emotions, fingers fisting in his hair, “You really fucking think that after a month and how many days of me spending stupid hours trying to find your ass, most of the time never knowing if you’re dead or not, I wouldn’t want a better solution?!”

“Like hell they’ll kill me! And if they do, I don’t fucking care!” you stubbornly insist, finger buried against the swell of your chest.

“Oh my god,” Kirishima can’t stop the bitter laugh from escaping, “you’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?! I’m not the ridiculous one here!” you cry, your eyes bursting with unshed, bitter tears. “So what that I run away from you? Can you imagine living the past ten years of your life trying to be something that the media wants you to be? No! You can’t, Sergeant! Those times where I’m running away isn’t to be some dick, but to give me time to be me!”

“You’re a goddamn idiot!” Kirishima barks, his anger curdling in his chest like a raging fire. “If you had looked at my damn file correctly, instead of focusing on the stupid shit like me not being able to fire my gun correctly, you would be more than aware of the fact that you are one of my favorite artists!”

“Wh-”

“I am one of the best in my company! I am easy to get along with, personal, manageable, flexible even, but from the very first moment you laid eyes on me, you’ve hated me! You talk down on me, you shit on me, my job, the reason I’m here! Listen, I would fucking love to be anywhere but here right now. I have literally never hated my job before, but you just made that a reality. But the worst part of this all is the fact that you seem to think I would have kept you away, prohibited you from doing things that I already know you love! You stand there and tell me that I would try to force you to do shit you don’t want when I have merely been asking for you to take me there with you! I don’t care if I have to stand away and watch, but I want to be there! I’m supposed to be protecting you, but you’re being nothing more than a stubborn brat who refuses to see the efforts I’m trying to make, and frankly, I’m done.”

Kirishima’s chest is burning with the lack of oxygen, his eyes narrowed and filled with raging fire as he stares down at you, his neck craned so that he could be closer, more daunting, intimidating.

“Fuck o-off,” you snap suddenly, a lone tear, your voice tight and shoulders tense as you storm off.

“So predictable,” Kirishima calls after you, but it’s not filled with the previous anger he had but the sinking misery and regret.

And for a moment, it’s quiet.

Until a single name is screamed.

“SERGEANT!”

And then the all too familiar sound of a fist colliding with skin.

The anger in Kirishima’s blood evaporates immediately, and horror sinks in as he turns towards where you had stormed off. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

The parking lot is filled with an ugly yellow light that seems to set the stage for what was to come down. His footsteps crashing down against the black pavement were mute in his ears, and his eyes were focused on your limp body slung over somebody's shoulder. There was one person behind him, the other one already hopping into a van; Kirishima was the devil on their heels.

“Come on! Let’s go!” the one in the van screamed, his voice full of gruff apprehension and fear.

The van turns on.

Kirishima grunts, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he sidesteps the man who was lingering behind the one carrying you and quickly slams his shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him out the moment he collapses onto the ground. 

He lets out a roar of such, his eyes glowing with anger and a single mind track to take down the person who held you, ready to throw your unconscious body into the back of the van.

Kirishima doesn’t even know when he manages to get to the man's side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on you, and with the strength and anger of a million fighting warriors, he ripped you from his hold and sent him stumbling into the trunk. Your shallow breathing brushes against his neck, and Kirishima is hyper-aware of the cursing men who chose to abandon their unconscious comrade on the floor. 

With his arms filled by your unconscious body, Kirishima can only watch the van scurry out of the lot, the license plate immediately burning into his mind.

T082-23

When the man on the floor finally wakes up, he’s in police custody, and you’re just waking up. There's a bruise on your cheek, and you begin crying immediately.

Kirishima watches from the distance, his heart aching and guilt climbing up his throat as he watches Kimiko hold you close, her arms warm and tight.

Well, shit.

So much for the month of no attacks.

Kirishima sits in a waiting room, his head relaxed against the wall as he waits for your discharge from the hospital. They suspect a concussion, and they’re running some tests right now. The police are there too, trying to get information from you on the failed kidnapping attempt as well as beginning the initial trials of interrogation of the abandoned kidnapper with a broken sternum, ruptured spleen, and three cracked ribs.

He was not surprised when the police officers came to talk to him, and he gave them the license plate.

But they also gave him an essential piece of information.

(“Well, when we asked for a motive, it seemed that it wasn’t his idea,” the detective admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “His boss said that, and I quote, Y/n will end up dead and mutilated as is deserved. She deserves all the shit she has coming her way, end quote. Any ideas of who it could be”

Kirishima rubbed a hand across his face, the words striking a bit too familiarly to him, but from where. He shook his head, his eyes focusing on his bouncing knee.

“Thank you,” Kirishima said, his tone pointed in a clear indicator that this conversation was now over. The detective nodded, his frown slight as he left. The moment he was gone, Kirishima pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kimiko? Yeah, I think we might have our first suspect.”)

For now, he was waiting for you.

An hour passed before you shuffled into the waiting room. There was a bandage on your swollen cheek, but besides the obvious attack, your eyes looked strong, and it seemed like there was no concussion.

“I should be fine,” you speak first, your jaw tensing as if it physically pained you to speak (whether it was because you hated talking to him or because of the injury, Kirishima had no idea). “I will be fine; I just need some sleep.”

Kirishima nodded, his body completely exhausted, and his mind filled with nothing but regrets on how he handled his anger earlier. He needed to apologize. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he had definitely crossed a few too many lines.

“Should we go?”

You chewed on your lip, your eyes looking down at the white tiled floors of the hospital — so bleak, so anxiety driving.

“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”

Oh?

“Of what, if I may ask?”

Your eyes raise back up before looking away again, “the contract.”

Kirishima finds himself nodding, his hand gesturing towards the empty seat in front of him.

“Sure.”

And with a heaving sigh that sounds like you were on the verge of tears, you sit before him.

The contract was then discussed.

It was decided that you could continue to interact with fans as you wish, so long as you took Kirishima with you. He didn’t care about the long hours, the manic fans, or the impending doom of a group of people who meant business. He needed to be there.

Everything else stayed the same, but Kirishima looked at you one last time that night in the hospital, his body leaning towards you as he did his best to keep his face void of emotion and any lingering teasing.

“I’ll only accept this new negotiation on one term.”

“W-What?!” you pause, thinking. “Fine, say it.”

“From here on out, I think we should be friends, yeah? I’m on your side, after all, it’s a bit weird if we stay just acquaintances.”

The tension and horror leave your body, and Kirishima, for the first time ever, bears witness to the most relaxed, meaningful smile he has ever seen you give. It had been one hell of a shitty night, but at that very moment when the seventh turned into the eighth, Kirishima felt a new warmth flood through his chest, his heart racing at the sight of your glorious smile.

“Of course, Kirishima.”

“Oh, and y/n?” 

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about all that I said. It was unmanly of me and out of line.”

“It’s okay. To be fair, I was a bit of a self-absorbed brat, too.”

The next day, a picture of Kirishima holding you bridal style is trending.

Date: 6/12 Time: 19:00 Location: Hime Onsen

An Interview with Y/n | Vogue Japan 4.5 million views • Premiered 2 hours ago 874k [liked this] 12.3k [disliked this] Timestamp: 05:32 / 10:33

[Interviewer]: Now, Y/n, we must congratulate you on your latest achievement! Your latest self-titled album, ‘Y/N,’ has been nominated for a record high of twelve awards for the upcoming Japan Record Awards, which will be coming up in about a month! Tell us how you feel about this?

[You]: It was quite a surprise actually! I didn’t realize that it would have done so well in the critic's eyes to get this type of award. I am proud of myself and am excited to see all the other amazing artists and musicians who were nominated as well.

[Interviewer]: Now, your album is all about staying true to yourself, whether that be in love or war. It depicts your own highs and lows while also highlighting beautifully universal things many of us face. Without question, you have always been adamant on staying connected with your fans and keeping a simple rule: no bodyguards.

[Y/n]: Oh, (laughs) yes! That is definitely a new thing, huh?

[Interviewer]: A new thing and a beautiful thing at that, too! Look here!

[captioner notes: interviewer displays many photos of Y/n’s bodyguard, including the most famous one where he’s holding y/n after the failed kidnapped attempt]

[Interviewer]: This is a beautiful — don’t giggle! — a beautiful man, Y/n! What do you have to say for yourself?! Did you finally succumb to keeping untrue to yourself for this beautiful man?! If so, it is perfectly acceptable. By chance, is your contract with him done? I would personally love to have this man on my team.

[Y/n]: (laughing) By all means, take him! (Y/n looks behind her, her bodyguard is there) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! (pauses) No, actually, sorry. Kirishima is an outstanding bodyguard, and I have no intentions of leaving him so soon. Uh, while I did say I had no wish or intentions to have a bodyguard, obviously that was not the best solution, so I hired Kirishima. He is a wonderful addition to my team and still allows me to be authentically me, so it’s still all good.

[Interviewer]: Ah, okay, well, Kirishima-kun, if you ever need a new client, call me. But moving on, yes! Would you like to discuss the series of increasingly concerning attacks?

Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.

Today was one of the last remaining days you had off, and in celebration of your upcoming award season, you had decided that it was mandatory to visit the hot springs. Everyone on your team — the backup dancers, band, and hair and makeup — were ecstatic to learn that they were being involved with it too.

This high-end resort had accommodated your entire team to receive their own private spring with an all-inclusive menu too. 

It was thanks from the owner for the free PR and, of course, because they were some of your biggest fans. So, in thanks, everyone got to enjoy the springs.

Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.

As of the past month, things between Kirishima and you had improved a lot.

With Kirishima no longer needing to run a marathon daily to find where you were, he would find himself walking at your side. He no longer felt like you hated him. There was respect and actual friendship between the two of you. You joked with him, showed him memes and TikTok, sent him snapchat streaks, and invited him to watch weird shows with you. You even complained to him about the things that annoyed you, namely Kimiko’s attention being stolen by other clients and the rude conversations you would have with the lawyer.

It made Kirishima’s chest warm up knowing that you were friends now.

A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.

But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.

Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.

The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:

You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.

Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.

Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”

“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”

“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”

“I-If that’s okay?”

Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”

The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.

“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.

“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.

“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”

You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.

“So, what questions do you have?”

“Hm?”

“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”

“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”

Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.

“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”

“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”

“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”

A pause.

“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”

A nod.

“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.

“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”

“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.

The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.

What had happened?

“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.

“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”

“Was that um, Major—”

“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”

“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”

Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.

“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.

It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.

Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.

“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”

For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.

He wasn’t made of glass.

There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.

It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.

Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.

“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.

“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”

Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.

“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.

“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.

Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.

“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”

Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.

“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”

“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.

“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.

Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”

“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”

“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”

“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.

“PERVERT!”

“What?!”

“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.

“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”

Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.

There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.

“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”

“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice. 

“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.

“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”

“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”

Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed. 

Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?

No, his dreams were never like this.

“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”

Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.

“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours. 

“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.

“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.

The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit. 

He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat. 

Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.

“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.

Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.

Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.

Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.

The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.

“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”

“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.

To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.

For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules. 

So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard. 

“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.

Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.

“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”

Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.

“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”

“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.

“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”

The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.

“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.

“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.

He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.

“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.

His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.

“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.

“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”

“We weren’t fucking you prude!”

And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.

He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.

Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.

Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.

Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.

What was he going to do now?

That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock. 

Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.

Bad, Kirishima, bad.

“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”

“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”

“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”

“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”

“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”

“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”

“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”

“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”

“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”

Date: 7/10 Time: 18:00 Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101

Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.

Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.

According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.

Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.

Whoever it was, pfft.

Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.

Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.

Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.

The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.

The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.

A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.

Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.

Something.

Anything.

And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.

So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.

It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.

Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.

He was going to.

And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.

“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.

“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.

“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”

Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.

“Ready to move out?”

“We’re all clear.”

Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.

“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”

“Damn right I will.”

Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you. 

Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.

Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.

“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.

“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”

Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”

You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”

“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine. 

“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag. 

“Such a brat.”

Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.

But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.

Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all. 

There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.

T082-23.

His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.

With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.

When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.

You really came to life right now.

You were beautiful.

“For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.

The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.

He was here.

Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.

This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.

“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”

“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”

Wait.

“What?! Family member?!”

“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”

Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?

There was no way you wouldn’t.

Was he wrong?

Who was it?

“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”

Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss. 

Oh fuck.

He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.

You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.

“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”

Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”

Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.

“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”

“...she’s drunk?!”

“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”

“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”

“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.

Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.

“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.

Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.

Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.

You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.

There was a reason why you were considered a legend.

And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.

You smile.

But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.

You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.

Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.

The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.

How were they related?

What connected them?

“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”

Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.

Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.

Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.

Kirishima panted as he looked before him.

You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.

“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”

“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”

There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.

“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”

Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.

“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”

Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?

“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.

“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”

“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”

Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”

Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.

“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”

Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.

“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”

At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.

His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?

Was he ready?

Actually ready?

Save her, his past whispered.

Save her, his nightmares screamed.

Save her, his heart yelled.

Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.

BANG!

“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”

The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.

With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched. 

Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.

You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.

He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.

Tonight.

“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”

“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”

At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.

“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”

“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.

Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality. 

To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.

But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.

It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.

It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.

But it was growing late.

The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.

“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you. 

You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.

“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”

Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms. 

“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”

You frown. 

“Where will you be sleeping then?”

“My couch is just fine.”

“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”

“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”

Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.

Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room. 

His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima. 

“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”

You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”

“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”

“Oh, sure!”

“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”

Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.

“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.

“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.

He was relaxed.

“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.

“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.

“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him. 

You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.

“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming. 

“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.

“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.

You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.

“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”

And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.

His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want. 

The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move. 

Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.

“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”

The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.

“No,” you grin against his mouth.

Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance. 

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” you confirm.

Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again. 

“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin. 

Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.

The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap. 

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”

You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.

“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.

Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.

The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.

The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.

“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.

“What does the princess want?”

“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain. 

“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good. 

“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat. 

“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you. 

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”

“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”

“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.

You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.

“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”

You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.

“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.

“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”

You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.

“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.

You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.

“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.

Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.

Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.

Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.

You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.

And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.

He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.

“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”

You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.

“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”

It feels like fire.

His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.

You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you. 

Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.

Slap!

“Hey!”

Slap!

You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.

“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”

Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.

More, you plead.

And he delivers. 

Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands. 

You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.

“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”

However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.

His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.

“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”

“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”

“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”

Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center. 

“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”

This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.

His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.

Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”

“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.

His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.

You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.

“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”

His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.

“Who saved you?”

“E-Ei did,” you garble.

“Who’s fucking you?”

“E-Ei is!”

“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”

“Me! Fuck, me!”

Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.

Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.

He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”

“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.

There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.

You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”

Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.

“I think we do.”

[not-wholly-unheroic]

For your salty asks, 7. 13 (Hook). And 14!!

It could be applied to any version you want to answer about :]

7. Is there anything in your fandom that you used to like but can’t stand now?

Not much that I can really think of. I may have had a few slight changes of opinion but most of what I liked when I first got into the fandom still holds true today. On the flip side, I CAN think of something I used to hate but now don’t mind so much—Tink. When I first got into the fandom, the way the fandom absolutely adores Tink (think of all the Disney merch!) drove me up a wall. I hated that I was weird for liking Hook because “he’s the villain” but Tink got a pass for trying to murder Wendy because, “Oh, she’s a pretty, sassy little fairy.” 🙄 My brain immediately went, “No, she’s a jealous, murderous, mean-spirited, foul-mouthed girly girl. You guys just like her because you’re shallow.” (Can you tell that I was the nerdy tomboy who didn’t like the perfect little cheerleader type? 😬) As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to mind less…mostly because I stopped caring if people thought I was weird or didn’t think I was as pretty as someone else…but also because I’ve tried to flesh out Tink a bit more and learned to see her (and those cheerleaders) as a more fully developed character rather than a caricature. (I think the Disney Fairies franchise may have also helped. Admittedly, that Tink is much softer than original Tink, but it does help give her a more developed personality.)

13. Unpopular opinion about Hook?

Hmm…maybe not an unpopular opinion but definitely an uncommon one… So many people want to make Hook into this womanizing dude who leaves a trail of broken hearts behind him wherever he goes. (I’m thinking especially of how the Spielberg film has him surround himself with prostitutes.) Yes, Hook is supposed to be attractive but he’s also supposed to be a gentleman who is concerned with good form. He’s not the kind of person who would sleep with just anyone or take advantage of them simply because he could. I think the author of Disney’s Twisted Tales Straight on Till Morning put it best when one of the pirates is speaking to a concerned Wendy Darling and says something along the lines of, “Oh, he might slit your throat, but the rest of you is safe.”

14. Unpopular opinion about the fandom?

Everyone needs to stop with the *GASP* “What if Pan is actually evil?!” trope and stop acting like they’re the first person to come up with it. It’s not a new hot take. It’s in literally almost every single retelling these days. You’re not being edgy or creative with Dark!Pan. You’re just looking for a lazy way to make Hook the hero without him having to work for redemption and face the evils he has done. I love Hook (hence, this blog…) but he isn’t canonically a good person. Does he have some good qualities? Yes. Is he a redeemable, “not wholly unheroic” villain? Absolutely. But he’s no angel. And that’s okay. People want so badly to make either Hook or Peter completely evil and the other one completely noble and good. It does make things simpler that way, but it doesn’t make for good writing and it isn’t the way Barrie intended the characters to be. Both are complex and sometimes fall into the morally gray territory. Peter does both heroic things (saving Tiger Lily) and not so heroic things (breathing quickly because he believes it will make grown-ups die). Hook is both a gentleman (for goodness’ sake, y’all writing Hook as a pedophile need to STOP) AND a pirate, an Eton boy obsessed with good form and a man who is totally okay with killing a child. The difference here is that Peter, while he doesn’t get a complete pass, gets some leniency as a child. Barrie makes it pretty clear that Peter isn’t just physically stuck as a child but is also mentally a child. Kids say some harsh things but they don’t always know the full extent of the consequences of their actions. Hook is the villain merely because he knows better and chooses to lower himself to Pan’s level of childishness. So yeah, more nuance and less black and white thinking in the fandom would be great.

[aminiatureworld]

Opposites

Characters: Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 1,594

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: In which the reader is the brain and Xiao is the brawn

Author’s Note: I wasn’t sure what the general setting should be so I put it in a vaguely college/university setting. Prolly cause that’s around my age and also because I cordially dislike highschool AUs. Hopefully that works out alright!

I had to type out almost 2,000 words on my iphone. I never want to do that again.

Xiao

Honestly none of your friends are actually sure how you two got together.

After all, if someone were to take a picture of you and your partner side-by-side then show it to people not in the know, well the prevailing emotion would be something along the lines of: “Are they classmates or neighbors or something?”

To be fair, when the two of your first met even the idea that you would ever end up in love was something laughable. Having been pushed together for a project, your knee-jerk reaction had been: Oh I’m totally going to end up doing this all by myself.

Thankfully however you’d been quickly proven wrong. Although Xiao hadn’t necessarily been the best about planning and other such things, his work was organized and he always showed up to every meeting with his parts completed.

By the end of the project you never wanted to work with another person on a group project again.

And, to be completely honest, you’d definitely developed a crush on your slightly aloof group partner.

Xiao’s reaction was much harder to read.

At first he appeared to want nothing to do with you. Work was emailed to you with not so much as a subject line; meetups passed in awkward silence broken by tentative questions on your part. You’d sort of assumed that he saw you as annoying and the group work as useless - which to be fair it sort of was useless.

So when he emailed you a few weeks later asking for your number and if you wanted to do something, well, safe to say you almost fell out of your chair.

Though the start was a little awkward, Xiao’s conversational nature didn’t develop much in general, you two fell into a routine of sorts, a relationship of unspoken boundaries and spontaneous confidences.

During the first few weeks of you odd sort of relationship you’d come to the conclusion that, though not a talker, Xiao was ultimately quite apathetic in nature. Eventually however you realized apathetic wasn’t the right term.

Though he might’ve appeared sullen on the outside, Xiao never actually acted in a way that hinted at any resentment or irritation; he never dragged his feet about something or implied it was stupid that you should ask for help or for a favor.

His assertiveness, which might’ve been mistaken for aloofness, was endearing. Xiao never half-asses anything, even when if wasn’t doing something for another person, like you.

You appreciated this side of his personality, the fact that he was quick to act, admired if even. It certainly stood in stark contrast to your tendency to overthink things, something that could quickly end up kneecapping you depending on what decisions were being debated.

It was an alien concept to you, the sort of philosophy Xiao seemed to live by, and its novelty was refreshing.

As your thoughts slid more and more to focusing on Xiao you became more and more aware of the rumors that abounded about him.

He was a troubled youth, he was prone to fighting, he had been so uncontrollable in secondary school that only one teacher had been able to get him to do anything. The only times he spoke was to wound, and he never had a word to say that wasn’t angry.

Well, obviously that wasn’t the truth, but any attempt to clear up the situation was quickly met with odd stares and responses that all smacked of: “Oh you poor idiot, you just haven’t learned yet.”

You would’ve liked to think that you didn’t let it affect your relationship with him, but evidently the rumors had begun to catch up to you.

“Hey, you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Have I?” You shifted awkwardly in your seat. Xiao sighed, evidently aware of where this was going.

“It’s because of what people say about me, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“I see.”

That had been the beginning and the end of the conversation for quite some time, almost as if Xiao had yet to decide whether or not you were one of the few in whom he could entrust the truth. Yet despite the rumors and the odd looks you still found yourself gravitating towards Xiao, and soon enough that initial pull turned into something much deeper.

The day that you two became “official” was the day Xiao told you the truth. He had been a delinquent as a teenager.

Born into a family full of troubles Xiao shouldered the circumstances as best he could.

However things cannot stay untouched forever; the distress that Xiao experienced only grew, the pressure ratcheting up with every incident, every item thrown to the ground, every fight that ended in humiliating pain.

Eventually it became too much, and when it did Xiao took his anger out not on his family, not on the people who had failed him, but on any classmate who antagonized the vulnerable child.

Fights became a regular part of Xiao’s life until university, and it was only in meeting his mentor, Zhongli, that the lost young man had managed to pull his life together.

Things made more sense after that, though one couldn’t say that everything was right with the world. Students, coworkers, the particularly idiotic TA, all of them still carried the sense that Xiao was not to be trusted. You could see how it upset your partner sometimes, when he was ignored at the coffeeshop or excluded from class group chars in the like.

Whenever he did that Xiao tended to retreat into himself, as if worried he might explode again. It took a lot of coaxing to get him out of such situations but it was always worth it to see your partner’s expression soften, to see his small smile once more.

What you didn’t tell him was that you were just as angry as he was, just as resentful at the people within your major which were hellbent on acting like they were still in high school.

Eventually however the trials of your early were utterly forgotten, the questions and the secrets replaced by a sense of slightly hilarious domestic bliss.

You were definitely the brains of the group, something Xiao didn’t seem to mind - though he probably would find that actual statement somewhat silly.

Xiao, on the other hand, held the esteemed position of Person Who Actually Got Stuff Done. You relied on him to get you out of your mental spirals, to pull you out of your room and out of your brain fog and to get you to do something; even if it wasn’t the thing you were thinking about.

In return it was your job to make sure Xiao didn’t get himself killed doing something stupid.

Xiao’s reticence masked an almost supernatural recklessness. Though your partner didn’t own a motorbike, if he had you were completely convinced he’d ride one without a helmet. His almost total disinterest in his own safety was something that you brain shrunk from, and more often than not a crazy plan of his would end with you listing the terrible things that might happen if something were to go wrong, even if those things weren’t always the most realistic.

There was a storm in twenty minutes? It was the perfect time for a walk! There was cavern nearby with tunnels were so tight you had to walk single file? Sure why not!

He would talk about such things as if there was nothing to it, as if it didn’t send your heart rate spiking. There wasn’t the slightest acknowledgment of danger. Even his tone was as gruff as usual, as if it was the most natural thing to want to go mountain climbing, not interesting enough to get even a little excited about.

It was probably good he did martial arts. You didn’t even want to think about where all that energy would go otherwise.

Xiao’s straightforward nature came out in softer ways too, ways that you envied much more than his full-steam-ahead recklessness.

He was never afraid to state what was on his mind. Whether it was correcting a waiter who got his order wrong or telling a rude doormats to fuck off, all these things were natural to him.

To be honest you completely envied that aspect of him, unable go replicate such a mindset in yourself.

When you’d commented on it once Xiao had stared oddly at you. After a moment he told you that he figured it came from his background. Sometimes you had to learn how to say “no” or “that’s wrong” or “you’re a shitty person.”

Just as you tried to curb the most extreme parts of Xiao’s recklessness, so too did Xiao work to bring you out of the spirals your mind went down sometimes, and so did he try to coax you out of the overthinking that kept you from asserting yourself in your life.

Saying you two were complete opposites wouldn’t really be accurate. You shared similar views, similar passions, similar opinions on what mattered. Yet it was true that, in some ways, you complemented one another. And when it came to those traits in which you differed, well you would like to think that your differences just made you stronger as a couple.

Maybe your friends couldn’t understand how you two got together, or why you were so deeply in love with the person you’d chosen to be your partner. But you didn’t care.

You loved Xiao with all your soul, and, at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

[just--another--daydreamer]

How they realize that they are in love

» Katsuki Bakugo // Shoto Todoroki // Izuku Midoriya x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

» Genre: Fluff & Angst » Summary: Just some HCs about Baku, Todo & Deku (seperately) and how they realize that they are in love » Warnings: fighting, death, injuries & swearing (Bakugo) implied abuse (Todoroki) panic attacks, overthinking & mentions of fighting (Midoriya) » Words: ~1.7k » Author's Note: These were fun to write, if you’d like to see them for any other characters, feel free to ask! This was inspired by @/costellos, check their stuff out

You can find a link to my Masterlist etc in my bio and pinned post

⋘ ──────── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──────── ⋙

» Katsuki Bakugo:

Bakugo realizes that he is in love with you when you put yourself in danger to help him

Usually, Bakugo would be furious if someone else saw him as a person in need of help and tried supporting or even protecting him in a dangerous situation, but this time it feels different

Instead of anger boiling deep within Bakugo, close to making him explode, he feels an unusual numbness at first, while he watches your body fall to the ground after taking a hit for him. Even though he is often unable to identify his own feelings and is out of touch with them, he notices that change withing himself

The numbness quickly gives way to fear. He tumbles forward as he screams your name. For the first time in a while he is not sure what to do; he wants to check if you are alright, if you are alive, if you are still with him. But he also wants to charge forward and rip the person who hurt you to shreds

He feels helpless, unable to decide and unable to push those sudden overwhelming feelings aside. Instead, shock is freezing his whole body, only allowing his arms and legs to tremble. His mind is racing and screaming and calling him weak. Weak for needing your help, weak for not being able to protect you, weak for not killing this damn bastard in front of him

“Bakugo!” Your voice is feeble and barely audible over the sounds of the fight, but he can still hear you. You reach him through the clouds in his mind, through his own voice in his head tormenting him

He regains control over his body and it only takes him a few blows to knock out the enemy

In the next moment, he is cowering next to you, pulling you close, checking your vitals. Once again, his fingers tremble. You are alive, but in dire need of help

Bakugo hates being afraid and he pushes the feeling down with full force, trying to let his anger take over once again. The anger that numbs his senses, makes him care less about the people around him, makes him unapproachable and lets him keep everyone at a distance

“You damn fool!” His voice cracks. “I didn’t ask for your fucking help!” You look up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Baku-” “Shut up!” The pain in his throat from screaming is a welcome one. “Just shut the fuck up! I didn’t need you to save me, dammit!” A lump forms in his throat, taking his ability to speak. He can feel tears in his eyes, but he wipes them away before they can fall

Bakugo leans down and puts his arms under your body to carry you to an ambulance. Under his breath, he mutters, “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

  » Shoto Todoroki:

Todoroki realizes that he is in love with you when you are patient with him

Most people in Todoroki’s life expect a lot from him, if not way too much. His father expects him to be the perfect hero and successor to him since the day his quirk awoke, UA expects him to always be one step ahead of everyone else and he puts those expectations on himself as well. Even though it is not hard for him to be all those things at this point in his life, having someone around who is patient with him and does not care if he fails or lets himself go from time to time is a relief

Like on most days, Todoroki and you walk home together after class, since you have to go into a similar direction. Most of the time both of you walk in silence or you try making conversation with Todoroki only to be met with silence or short answers

Todoroki knows that he is not the best person to be around at all times, that he does not always get jokes or acts distant with people – he just does not know what to say and how to react to certain things

Having friends is hard for him. Either he overshares about his past or keeps people at a safe distance. Todoroki needs time to figure out this new thing called friendship for himself. Can he even call his classmates friends? Can he call Midoriya, Iida and Uraraka friends? Can he call you a friend? What do you and the others call your relationship from your perspectives?

He has known you for a while now and you walk together every single day and you talk and you text, so you are his friend, right?

“Todoroki?” you catch him a little off-guard. “Hm?” “Would you like to hang out some time?”

He looks up at you and tries reading your expression. A friendly smile, waiting for his answer. It is his decision. You are not deciding for him, you are not demanding anything from him. Not many people have ever asked him to decide things for himself in the past. Everyone always decided in his place, especially when it came to big things like becoming a hero. It is a simple yes or no question over a small thing, yet Todoroki has trouble coming up with an answer

You seem to notice his hesitation. “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to hang out,” you calmly tell him. There is no undertone in your voice, only genuine kindness. “You can take your time deciding, you can take your time getting comfortable with having friends, or even just the idea of it.” Did you have another secret quirk that allowed you to read minds? Todoroki pushed that thought away. “Take your time. I promise that whatever you say, I won’t be mad or hurt by it. Alright?”

Even though you do not say anything to compliment or embarrass Todoroki, he feels himself blushing. Just a little, but he turns his face away to not let you notice. You are patient with him. You want him to be comfortable with you, you do not want to push anything on him. A warm feeling spreads through his body and for a second, Todoroki thinks that he is losing control of his fire quirk, but he quickly realizes that it is something else – something nice and good

“Yes, I’d love that, actually.” “Okay, great! I’ll text you then?” “Yeah.”

The two of you part ways but the warm feeling stays

  » Izuku Midoriya

Midoriya realizes that he is in love with you when you comfort him

Whenever something goes wrong during a mission or a patrol, that he goes on during his internship, Midoriya is quick to blame himself for what happened. He himself and everyone around him makes him think that he needs to be a perfect hero even though he is only an intern and a student

It starts with overthinking his steps, replaying the scene in his head again and again, and sometimes even ends in panic attacks. Most of the time he tries to deal with those things alone and disappears in his dorm room, but over time you have learned to see the signs that Midoriya is not doing well and you have been trying to find ways to comfort him

You both sit on his bed as Midoriya talks about what happened earlier. The civilians that got hurt, the villain who got away, his own inability to save everyone and stop the bastard. His voice is weak, tears run down his cheeks and sobs shake his body every now and then

He goes on and on about the mistakes he made until you interrupt him

“Midoriya.” Your voice is soothing yet insistent. “Not everything that happened today is your fault. Maybe even nothing. You are still in training, there are adults who are responsible for you. Putting someone as young as you and me out there is a risk, because we make mistakes. But that’s a way to learn. We learn from our past mistakes and become stronger. The next time you are in a situation like this, you’ll be able to handle it just fine.”

Some more tears run down his face, so you pull him into an embrace. Midoriya appreciates your words. He really does. But for now, he has lost his ability to speak

“You are not alone with this. And it’s not your fault.”

Another choked sob leaves Midoriya. He hugs you back, clings to your shirt and buries his face in the crook of your neck. The way your hands draw patterns on his back soothe him until he eventually stops crying. But he does not want to let go just yet

“Thank you,” he whispers after a while. “Thank you so much.” He is not alone. He knows that he can talk to you about this, about anything. He just wishes he had the courage to open up more often

You stay like this until it gets dark, until all the other lights have gone out. Until everything is silent and Midoriya can only hear your and his own breathing. He feels oddly warm and safe in your arms, so he hopes that you will never get up to go to your room, but he knows that you have to, eventually

Suddenly, one of your hands is on the back of his head, your fingers running through his hair. Midoriya has a hard time stopping himself from leaning into your touch more. “I hope you know that I’m here for you, Izuku.” You never call him by his first name. Midoriya’s heart skips a beat and heat rises to his cheeks. He is glad that you cannot see his face right now because he is sure that it is as red as a tomato

“The same goes for you.” And he wholeheartedly means it

You linger there for another moment before finally pulling away. Midoriya does not want you to, he wants you to stay there, with him, forever. But he cannot have that. Not yet at least. And even though the circumstances that lead to this are not the best, he wishes for this to happen again soon

[heroes-in-the-dark]

So I know that there is a good number of people in the HITD community who thinks that's Hawk's is the worst and doesn't care about Tokoyami at all, which I can totally understand. I personally think he's doing the right thing, for the greater good, which still sucks because we all love twice and I don't think he dealt with Tokoyami the best way he could

But anyways seeming that you're the author of HITD I was wondering if you think Hawks is doing the right thing and if you think he genuinely cares for Tokoyami?

This is a good question with a lot of answers, and I'm glad you asked it! I'll answer it as best I can.

As a disclaimer, everyone is entitled to their own opinion and views on Hawks. He's just that much of a controversial character, and there's not really any avoiding that.

Now, the way I've been writing him might make Hawks feel like an even colder and antagonistic person than how he presents in canon, and that's intentional given his difficult position and the mission he's been tasked with. When the war is over, we'll finally be able to see more of his thought process and maybe even level with him. Will that excuse his actions and mend his relationships with other characters? Maybe not, but that remains to be seen.

When breaking down each panel of the manga and his fight with Twice, his actions felt cruel... but necessary, and that's really highlighted when it's said that if Tokoyami let's Twice go free, since the Villains won't run or admit defeat, then so many more lives will be lost. Heroes, classmates, nobody will be safe.

When Hawks first killed Twice in the manga, back in March of 2020 (a time I'll never forget) I was devastated. I hated him for a time. But I didn't want him to die, either, and it wouldn't be til later that I kinda came to accept his actions.

I truly believe that Hawks cares about Tokoyami, but not quite as a peer in HitD. Their interactions have been so disconnected for so long, and the hero never got the chance to understand Tokoyami. Or rather, he had the chance long ago and didn't take that time to do anything with it, so it was easy to label Tokoyami as just another person to save — once everything else was done. The nature of his work placed Tokoyami second and, while the whole "lives of many vs a few" thing was pretty evident here, Hawks probably would've been better off doing more to earn Tokoyami's trust, rather than expect that he already had it with so little effort on his part. And then when he realized that he didn't have that, and Tokoyami was fighting against him... he panicked. Definitely not his finest moment.

Anyway, there's a lot to unpack there, but I'm looking forward to going into more of it within the context of the story.

[newbeginningsforever]

UPDATED: An Extremely Thorough Analysis of Episode 9 - Adrian’s Story

@espanholina​ asked me to rewatch the show and re-evaluate what really happened between Takka, Sumi, and Adrian. This is about the sex/non-con scenes in Episode 9. 

UPDATED: My theory here is confirmed to be correct by the director, Sam Deats. He said this in a Twitter post. 

(On a completely unprofessional and inappropriate note, doesn’t Adrian look just positively glorious in orgasm? Wow...)

**TRIGGER WARNING FOR NON-CON/SEX AND SPOILERS**

(Rewatching Season 3)

Let me preface this by saying that I am a bisexual person and I have experienced both consensual sex and non-consensual sexual situations (with men and women) in my life. I’m also the same age as Adrian would be and I have the same personality type. Okay, analysis time… 

These are my opinions about what Adrian is thinking and feeling during the controversial sexual scene:

First, let’s look at the meaning of rape in terms of deception (which is the only type of rape that might apply here): “Rape by deception is a situation in which the perpetrator obtains the victim's agreement to engage in sexual intercourse or other sex acts, but gains it by deception or false statements or actions.” To be honest, I had no idea this is technically rape until today. It means tricking someone into sex, basically, even if they want to have sex. So basically, Adrian is giving consent, but because he was deceived in order to give consent, it is a form of rape. That being rape by deception. This is very interesting. A lot of characters in TV shows are rapists then if you really think about it. For some examples: Chandler and Joey from Friends would both be rapists because they assume false identities and use fake names to sleep with women, Saul Goodman from Better Call Saul would also be a rapist because of deceptions in order to get sex, Don from Mad Men, etc. Really, if we think about the story, their deception started long before the sex scene and continued throughout because they came to murder him and just used sex as a ploy to get him in a vulnerable position. They knew Adrian is extremely lonely (and horny, oops sorry) and used that to their advantage. I think they knew Adrian would consent and that’s why they came up with the plan.

Detailed scene analysis: Adrian can’t sleep. When Takka and Sumi enter, he looks a little surprised and concerned. He asks what is wrong. Sumi and Takka conceal their blades and consecrated handcuffs behind their backs and drop them on both sides of the bed out of view of the camera. Alucard doesn’t notice. When they put their hands on his chest and say “You’ve been so alone,” he visibly blushes. I didn’t actually notice that until the second time. I rewatched this part a lot to try and gauge his emotion - in my opinion, it’s pleasant surprise and mild shock. He looks possibly hopeful and unsure about what is happening. 

When Sumi says that it’s time for his reward, Adrian’s eyes quiver and he breathes shakily, his mouth agape when they push him down onto the bed. When Sumi kisses him, and he’s shocked at first, but then he reciprocates. He’s still shocked afterward, clear by his expression and wide eyes. When Takka strokes his cheek and leans closer, Adrian actually rises up to kiss Takka. Adrian initiated the kiss with Takka and he pulls him closer right away - there is clearly (uninformed) consent and initiation at this point on Alucard’s side for Takka. I don’t understand why Adrian would actually lift himself up and initiate the kiss with Takka if he didn’t want anything sexual/romantic to happen. If someone has a different opinion about that please let me know what you are thinking.

Is it possible he simply wanted to please? I mean, that’s possible, but Takka and Sumi came into the room by saying that “it’s time for his reward”. If he didn’t want to be doing this, would he really be initiating a kiss with Takka and pulling him in close? I don’t think so. I think Adrian is definitely bisexual and I think this was his first kiss with a man (maybe with anyone). I definitely think he’s a virgin because he’s so young and so socially isolated. Throughout this scene, Alucard’s (uniformed) consent is up to interpretation because he never stops them or protests, and yet we cannot know what he is thinking at all. The expressions of ecstasy and agony/discomfort are almost the same for many people, so it’s hard to say. Also, it’s safe to say that Alucard’s not experienced with sex or with anyone being close to him, so he could be consenting and shocked/nervous at the same time. I think Adrian is so desperate for affection, sex, and love that even though he might not feel entirely comfortable, he still wants it to continue. He wants friends, he wants to be fucked and cared for like most of us do. It seems, in the next scene clip, that Adrian is holding Takka’s waist while Takka does something - not really sure what, probably gives him a handjob. Sumi takes off his nightgown and Takka gives him a kiss. Adrian’s eyes widen in response. Sumi kisses him while topless, and his eyes are still wide with his eyebrows drawn up. This could be shock or possibly discomfort, more likely shock. When Sumi comes closer, his eyes return to normal and we see him grab Sumi’s ass and pull her towards him. Then, Adrian kisses her neck and fondles her naked breast. So, he seemed shocked at first, but then definitely consenting (by manipulation of course). I think the shock here is probably because of three things: he didn’t expect this sudden three-way sex, he’s a virgin, and he didn’t think that two people would want to have sex with him. Most people think he’s a monster, after all. He pulled her closer and initiated this foreplay, so I think he did want to do this (of course, I’m not in his head, so I can’t say for sure - this is just my best guess). I think his loneliness, horniness, and affection for his new friends is trumping any discomfort. That’s my opinion based on his personality and life story.

Adrian, Takka, and Sumi are naked together. Adrian has his arm wrapped around both of them. Adrian kisses Sumi while Takka kisses his neck and gives him a handjob. Takka kisses down Adrian’s stomach down to his cock. The camera pans to Adrian’s face and he’s hard to read. He basically is blushing, but otherwise emotionless, and then he cries suddenly. (The first time I 100% thought that this was because he felt amazing, and he was so grateful and contented to finally be receiving the pleasure and affection he deserves - I still think that might be the case here) 

UPDATE: I was right, and his crying is confirmed by the director to be tears of joy.

I watched it a couple of times. It’s certianly possible that he’s uncomfortable/scared/afraid/freaked out, but I still would guess that he’s crying because it’s feeling really amazing and healing for him. Having sex for the first time (if not all the time) is very emotional for us INTJs (Adrian and my personality type) because we rarely let ourselves be vulnerable around others. We’re not used to being close or connected to other people, and we are often lonely, so sex can be totally overwhelming for us. It can also be a weapon used against us (like it is here) because we are usually so lonely and longing for affection. I think Adrian is taking what he can get. I definitely think he wants this here, but that’s up to debate.

Next clip: It looks like Takka and Sumi are taking turns going down on Adrian (giving him head). He is shaking visibly and his expression is strained. Now, I’ll be honest this doesn’t seem out of place in a sex scene, especially for the first time. (TMI= The first time someone went down on me I think I had a similar expression - it’s kinda nervewracking to be so vulnerable. Also, having two people go down on you at once? That’s got to be nervewracking, hence the shaking) Takka kisses down Adrian’s inner thigh and goes down. He seems to be rimming Adrian (licking his asshole) in the next scene, while Sumi gives him a handjob. Their expressions are starting to get progressively creepier. But Adrian is too caught up in pleasure to notice, I think. Adrian seems absolutely overwhelmed with pleasure in the next shot, breathing heavily - I think he’s about to orgasm. Takka lifts Adrian’s leg up, presumably so he can penetrate Adrian. He seems to enter Adrian in the next shot, but it’s off-screen. Sumi gets on top of him and pins down his arms, possibly having intercourse with him at this point. It’s not very clear. Anyway, they’re having sex/raping him.

Final clip: Adrian is gasping, flushed, and coming down off his orgasm. Takka nods to Sumi that it’s time to kill Adrian. Adrian looks to see what they are doing but it’s too late. It takes him a moment to understand that they’re trying to murder him. (I’m going to cry again, oh my sweet Adrian! I’m so sorry baby you didn’t deserve this at all) 

They betray him. Adrian closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see them die. He turns away.

Adrian whispers finally, “I never lied to you.”

\\author’s side note\\ YOU ABSOLUTE ASSHOLES I HATE YOU SO MUCH YOU FUCKING BITCHES HE TRUSTED YOU AND YOU ARE RUINING HIS LIFE YOU DICKS HE DIDNT DESERVE THAT GO BURN IN HELL AND TAKE DRACULA AND LISAS PLACE YOU FUCKERS.

So, anyway, my final opinion is that Adrian is giving consent, but it is not informed consent (because Takka and Sumi are deceiving him), and therefore, it is rape. If you want the specific term it’s rape by deception. They lied about being his friends and allies, so they deceived his trust, given that their true intention was to murder him. 

{Sam Deats has confirmed this theory on Twitter. Thanks to all of you who supported me on this.}

He deserved better.

[headinthestaticsky]

The Dusk Calls for Me, Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan: Chapter 9

AUTHORS NOTES: None of the characters in Twilight belong to me. All rights go to Stephenie Meyer.

“I go over every word you said to me Every single syllable I could repeat Certified to scuba dive in my memory”

Sawzall by: BANKS

“I can feel your heart beating out of your chest love.” Jasper said.

I couldn’t say anything, I just burrowed my in his neck and held him.

“I should go back there and rips those guy’s heads off.”

“N-no you shouldn’t.”

“You couldn’t hear what those, low lives were thinking.” 

“And you do?”

“Dammit Edward... you need to learn to keep your mouth shut.” I thought to myself.

“Well, it’s not hard to guess. Could you talk about something else? Distract me so I don’t turn back around.”

“Y-you should put your seat belt on.”

Edward laughed 

“You should put your seat beat on.”

I pulled my sweater tighter to me and took in a deep breath.

“Thank you.” I said

Jasper kissed my cheek and rubbed circles in on my side. We pulled up to the restaurant. I saw Jessica and Angela leaving, they both looked confused and worried.

“Where were you guys?” Jessica asked

“We called you like a 100 times but we never got an answer.” Angela said.

Before Bella and I could explain our selves, Edward and Jasper came up to them.

“Sorry to keep the girls from dinner, we all ran into each other and started talking.” Jasper said.

“Oh, that’s fine. Angela said.

“Yeah, it totally happens.” Jessica added.

“I think I should make sure Bella gets something to eat.” Edward said.

“Geez what am I chopped liver you jerk?” I thought to myself.

“Yeah, Fleur should probably get something too...” Jasper said and gave Edward a glare.

“Yeah, let’s go in and eat... I’ll see you guys on Monday.” I said.

“Yeah, see you Monday.” Jessica said.

We made our way inside the restaurant the atmosphere was warm and inviting. We made our way to a table in the back of the restaurant, the waitress was being quite flirty with Edward. The on Bella’s face made me want to laugh, the jealousy was seeping from it. Jasper sat next to me and draped his arm over my shoulder . It’s weight was comforting against me, he was using his Pathokinesis on me. I wasn’t complaining, the racing of my heart was beginning to drive me crazy.  The flirty waitress had come back with, our food coming along with her.

“Alright we have 1 mushroom ravioli, 1 chicken Alfredo, and 4 glasses of coke. Are you sure, I can’t get you two anything?” She asked.

“No.” Jasper said.

“No thank you.” Edward replied, his eyes not leaving Bella’s.

“Just let me know.” She said before leaving.

“You’re really not going to eat?” Bella asked.

“No, we’re on a special diet.”

“Alright enough with the games, you gotta give me some answers here.”

“Hmm, yes, no, maybe.” Jasper started.

“To get to the other side, 1.772...” Edward continued.

“I don’t want to know what the square root of Pi is.” Bella interrupted. 

 “You knew that?” Edward inquired.

“How did you and Jasper know where we were?”

“I didn’t.”

“Alright, let’s go Fleur. I’m sick of being lied to.”

“Wait... don’t go.”

Edward pulled Bella back down to her seat.

“I mean, did you follow us?”

“I feel very... protective of you. Jasper, of course is always protective over Fleur.”

“Sooo, you did follow us?”

“I was trying to keep a distance, but I knew you two needed my help. I then heard what those low lives were thinking and I just..”

“Wait, wait... you said you could hear what they’re thinking?” Bella interrupted again.

“You’re burying yourself here Edward.” I though to myself, his eyes glared at me for a second... I almost forgot he could read minds.

“I can read every mind in this... except for yours.” 

“Is something wrong with me?”

“Bella, I just said I could read minds, and you ask what is wrong with you?” Edward asked in shock.

“Well, what are people thinking then?”

“That guys right there with the goatee, Money.” He then started pointing out the other people in room.

“Sex, money, sex, cat but with you, I hear nothing.”

“I’m going to confess Bella, I don’t have the strength to stay away from you anymore.”

“Then don’t, you don’t have to anymore.” She said.

 After dinner, we were off on the road again only this time, the ride wasn’t as intense. I was dosing off in the back, my head on Jasper’s shoulder I was almost asleep when I heard Bella speak.

“Okay, I think I’m warm enough now.”

I heard Bella gasp before speaking again.

“Your hand is Ice cold.”

Edward didn’t say anything in return.

“Whoa what is going on? Dad’s still here Fleur.”

I opened my eyes in confusion, I saw we were at the police station.

“Our dad’s car is here as well.” Jasper said.

“What’s he doing here?”

“Could you pull in Edward?” I asked.

He obliged my request.

“Carlisle what’s going on?”

He sighed

“Waylon Forge was found in a boat near his place. I just examined his body”

My eyes widened

“He died?”

Carlisle just nodded.

“Maybe it was the same thing that killed that guard out in Mason.”

“You two should go in and see your father. Waylon was his friend.”

“You go ahead Bella, I need to talk to Jasper real quick.”

“Okay. I’ll see you around Edward, Jasper.” Bella said before going in the building.

I pulled Jasper away from Edward and Carlisle, wanting to talk to him in private.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Please don’t be mad at me, they’re somethings I haven’t told you about. Could you come by later on tonight. I’ll explain everything to you.” I said.

“Of course, I love you darlin, stay safe.” He said, he kissed my cheek and the hugged me.

“I will... love you too.”

I saw him leave with Edward and Carlisle, I just hoped he wasn’t hurt by the fact I was keeping things from him. I jogged to the police station door, my dad looked up at me with sad eyes.

“I’m so sorry dad.” I said, I gave him a short hug and then rubbed his back.

“Thanks Petal, Bella, Fleur could you do something for me?” He asked.

“Sure, what is it?” I said.

“I want you two to carry this.” He handed Bella and I a can of pepper spray. 

“This would’ve come in handy earlier.” I thought.

“Dad...” Bella said apprehensively.

“It’ll give your old man some peace of mind.”

Bella and I each took a can, putting it in our purses.

“Come you two, let’s go home.”

As soon as I got home I got ready for bed. I kissed by dad on the cheek and bid both Bella and him a goodnight. I the ran up to my room, my heart was pounding again. When I opened the door, Jasper was already there. He had a look of curiosity and concern on his face. 

“What’s going on?” He asked.

“...Where do I start?”

[sinkix]

Haikyuu!!│Obsessive/Yandere HC’s │

Warning - Contains dark themes, mentions of emotional and physical abuse & sexually suggestive/explicit (18+) content, reader’s discretion is advised.

Characters - Hinata, Kuroo, Daichi, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Oikawa, Bokuto, Tendou & Kageyama.

Important Note: This is in no way romanticising or normalising toxic/abusive behaviour, you should not do as such as this is incredibly dangerous and unhealthy. If you identify any of these in your own relationships please seek help from a member of authority, counsellor or someone who can remove you from and aid in your recovery from the situation. This is a great contrast from all my other work on here so please read with caution. Stay safe <3

Hinata - The Hell-bent Visionary

Danger level: 6.5/10

So you’ve caught the eye of Karasuno’s ray of sunshine?

Bask in it’s warmth while you can, for the sun sets and leaves a chilling dark in it’s wake.

When he becomes focused on something, it’s hard to break the dedication he has. It’s unyielding, firm and persistent. Once you light a fire in him, it’s near impossible to put out.

And you didn’t just spark a flame, you formed a whole inferno.

Blowing up your phone with texts, calls and the tapping of rocks against your bedroom’s glass from late night visits to your doorstep. Greeted with the sickening scent of blood-red roses filling your nose at a reminder of how firmly he has you in his hold that will never falter. The lingering scratch marks adorning the window panes that you could have sworn were not there the night before.

 He can’t get enough of you, and the more time he spends with you, the more addictive your presence becomes.

He’s hooked, reaching the point of rivalling his sporting passion.

He learns to balance the two equally, and any second that isn’t spent practising, he is by your side or doing everything in his power to be.

It’s tunnel vision. All he sees is you, and the ball, nothing else matters. Relentlessly chasing for both long after his lungs tire and legs give out.

 He is a dark, unwavering force of nature, itching to monopolise you and eradicate any threat on what belongs to him. Yet around everyone else, he's a bundle of lovable sunshine who wouldn't dare hurt a fly, and while he doesn't show an outright aggressive nature, you know there's something sinister lurking underneath that might one day snap. 

It’s his stare that haunts you the most.

That ominous, chilling stare which pierces through your heart and impales it on a stick, out on display for him to marvel at in all it’s vulnerable beauty. The level of intensity and sheer devotion glinting in his eyes is nothing short of haunting.

Luckily for you, Hinata will not cause physical harm, but it’s his presence and ‘Jekyll & Hyde’ nature which will slowly but surely chip away at you until your sanity is reduced to dust. The worst part? Since he is loved by everyone, no one sees the twisted side you do, and as a result left permanently in a state of self-doubt and second guessing. Your mind will eventually spiral into a descent to madness until your right where he wants you.

Be careful, for even the sun’s light burns out eventually. And when it does, you’ll be swallowed by the darkness.

Kuroo - The Devil’s Reciprocal

Danger level: 9/10

Ahhh, the bad boy who smells of cigarettes and sex, the one who lurks in bars long after midnight eyeing up his prey. This man gives Satan a run for his money. I hope you’re prepared. What did you do to catch his eye, anyway? 

Whatever it was, it’s doomed you to an eternity in hell on earth.

Or heaven, if you’re a glass half full kind of person.

Kuroo drew you in like a moth to a flame, you knew he had no glinting halo, but that was his appeal.

 He was the incarnation of everything your parents warned you about, and you couldn’t get enough of it. 

Hell, you still can’t. But that doesn’t minimise the damage done to you every second he turns the light on, reeling you in once again, further and further until there’s no escape, utterly blinded by his deceiving tactics.

He has many admirers, you know. So in his eyes he feels you should be privileged to be given so much of his attention, that once received would leave any sane person running.

Unfortunately, you don’t seem to be sane enough, and he recognises this. He knows he’s got you hooked on his every word, dragging out the syllables like a lullaby that leave you entranced and begging for more.

 What can I say? The man has a way with words, and you’re totally enthralled by every sentence. 

Kuroo recklessly waves his charm like a gun, never a moment of hesitation to utilise it in order to get what he wants. 

And he always gets what he wants. 

It’s so dangerous it will leave you down on your knees in an act of submission and prepared to do anything to please him. The tip of the pistol aimed at your temple as if daring your defiance.

He revels in seeing that doe-eyed expression, fully aware of how much control he holds over every cell in your body. All of them scream out for him, for Kuroo. To kiss you, touch you and whisper sweet-nothings into your ear that linger with his hot breath scathing your neck, burning his scent into your memory until it’s one you’ll never forget. 

With all that temptation comes  consequence though, because once you give in, you’ll face the sadists horns that lurk underneath. 

Intertwining your bodies and tracing a switchblade across your jugular, he’ll stretch his lips into a wide, cunning grin, slamming into you and rutting his hips until they connect with yours. Throwing your head back in ecstasy, your whine will be stifled and cut short by the piercing slit of a blade shallowly opening the skin of your throat, the sharp sting lingering as his tongue deepens the incision with delight.

He is incredibly possessive, so anyone he deems a threat will be mercilessly eradicated, soon to be forgotten though. He will never allow your thoughts to be consumed by anything but him. 

Grinding his body against yours, the husky murmuring of pillow talk he is all too skilled at will leaves your knees trembling and buckling before him, with the one question he will only ever accept one answer to.

“Tell me sweetheart, who do you belong to...?”

Shuffling the cards and dragging cigar smoke across his lips, he’ll sip that glass of gin snidely and lock you in place with his smouldering gaze. Forever a reminder there’s no escape from his enslaving curse.

Daichi - The Despotic Protector

Danger level: 6/10

Karasuno’s father figure and reliable captain rolled into one. I hope you’re prepared for a lifetime of suffocation, because he’s never letting you go.

He takes on an almost a parental role in the relationship, and a toxic one.

Controlling, overbearing and monitoring your every move. He will never allow you to do anything without his permission out of fear for your safety.

I mean, what if something happens to you while you’re not within his peripherals? 

That’s a thought he simply couldn’t bear.

He’ll lock you in the confines of his home if he has to. But don’t get mad sweetheart, it’s because he cares for you.

Soon enough Daichi will have isolated you from the world, never seeing the shining of sunlight unless your arm is looped around his in a crushing hold. 

Friends? You can forget them, he made sure to steer you far, far away from those. He just can’t risk them laying a finger on you or putting you in harms way, he would never forgive them.

Daichi desperately tries to convince you he has your best interests at heart, and unluckily for you, you fall right into his trap.

Your whole life is consumed by him, and only him. Watching the clock tick by aimlessly until you hear his footsteps up the driveway, scurrying to the door to greet him like an obedient dog upon his arrival.

Pulling you into a loving hug that threatens to squeeze the life out of you, you can’t help but let your mind roam and ponder the question lurking at the back of your thoughts.

Has he ever killed with these hands?

They seem too crushing. Like a brute, inhuman force. You can picture his fingers wrapped around someone’s throat and draining them of oxygen almost too easily.

Little did you know, your hypothesis was painfully accurate. 

An old childhood friend of yours, currently 6 feet under in the yard. Your bare feet trampling over his grave and none the wiser every time he allows you to set foot in the garden.

You’ll never know, though. It’s not like you can check your phone without his permission anyway, he’s already blocked their contact.

Days, weeks, months pass by of his constant monitoring and controlling behaviour. The CCTV’s scattered in every corner of the house, the social deprivation and loneliness that creeps in every time he’s not there as you roam the barren household, the purple finger marks roping your wrists from when he kept you in a paralysing grip,daring your disobedience.

and you can’t help but wonder,

Maybe the person you needed protecting from was him.

Tsukishima - The Mendacious Manipulator

Danger level: 8.5/10

How unlucky you are to be paired with this mentally destroying sadist. 

At first Tsukishima’s wit, sarcasm and clever quips were what allured you, never did you think they would be used against you. Wielded like a weapon with a blade sharp enough to slice you in two.

And I’m warning you, every cut hurts.

There’s no escaping from it, a string of degrading remarks whispered cruelly in your ear while holding hands in public, appearing to be a cute and affectionate couple, but a sinister secret lurks underneath that only you know of.

He’ll treat you like a dog, expecting you to be at his every beck and call, serving on your knees with a painted smile that’s woefully forced on with every ounce of strength you have left.

You are his puppet, his useless little play thing that he makes painfully aware of how disposable they truly are.

And don’t take him for a fool, he will discard you if he sees fit.

Unmerciful, cruel, snide, are the some of many words that can describe Tsukishima, and as you’ll soon find out none of them are pleasant.

He will craftily make you open up to him. Revealing your deepest insecurities,traumas and troubles then sheath it like a sword to your neck, holding you hostage to your own weaknesses in order to gain that empowering sense of control he oh-so revels in. Endlessly striving to achieve his selfish, favourable outcome. 

This Yandere is one of most intelligent of the bunch, and unfortunately for you, does not use his intelligence for charitable or good-natured purposes.

He knows exactly what to say to leave you curled up in a ball, tears streaming and wracked in emotional agony as you plead for forgiveness on something that isn’t even your fault. He knows this, but finds it comical and all too amusing to see you so broken over something when you weren’t the one to blame. He gets off to your mental anguish.

You’ll be left stumbling the streets at 2 in the morning, contemplating your life and everything as you know it, he will warp your perception of the world until he is the only one you can crawl to. After all, it’s your fault, right? He’s the only one who could tolerate you, everyone else abandoned you because you were so insufferable.

...is what he’ll have you believe. In reality, Tsukishima was pulling strings behind the scenes to ensure you would distance yourself from friends and family, resulting in them doing the same. Wrapping you around his finger and twisting your behaviour into one that’s volatile and unapproachable, until you’re left totally alone.

You’ll never know though.

That mental fortitude will soon shatter, and when it does, he’ll cackle at it’s pathetic remains.

Yamaguchi  - The Diffident Vampire

Danger level: 5/10

I’m sad to say, but your tween Twilight fantasies will be crushed when you stumble upon this mess of a monster.

I don’t mean to say he’s a literal vampire, but you’ll understand the use of this metaphor once we delve into some of his tendencies.

He is incredibly insecure, the walking embodiment of the very word.

Now that isn’t the reason you should be warded off, everyone has self-esteem issues. However, this trait of his plays a huge part in siphoning the life out of you.

He captured your heart with his soft and sympathetic nature, easily startled and somewhat skittish.

You didn’t see what was below the iceberg however, and once you did, he sank his teeth in and began to suck before you could escape, draining you dry until you have no more left to give. Nothing to spare until he is licking his lips in satisfaction, swelled with the abundance at the emotional dependency he has built up on you.

He needs reassurance like a life line, and while some might find this endearing at first, it undoubtedly becomes highly toxic and emotionally exhausting.  

Yamaguchi is incredibly volatile with his sensitivity, you have to watch your words and be sure he doesn’t misinterpret them and become dejected. He will read into everything you say and question every little detail. 

This is one of those Yandere’s that wouldn't do it intentionally I don’t think, but by the time he catches himself it’s too late, he’s in far too deep to stop and I don’t think he ever will once he realises how addicted he is to you, your words boosting his sense of worth and being the only form of confidence he’s ever felt in his life.

It’s quite sad, really. 

Don’t pity him too much, though. That’s the trap. That’s how reels you in until the teeth marks adorning your neck are a harsh reminder that you are nothing more than food for his ego.

If you ever think about leaving, he will have no qualms grovelling at your knees, razor to his wrists and begging you to stay. A cruel memoire at what keeps you tied here in the first place.

Pity.

Care.

The mutual empathy you saw in him that drew you in was now broken and one-sided, his selfishness far outweighing this trait of his and becoming your death-sentence. 

The marks will never fade. One day you’ll collapse to your knees and cave, but he won’t stop until he has bled you bare.

Oikawa - The Venusian’s Nightmare.

Danger level: 8/10

Oh charming Oikawa. The pretty boy with enough carnal seduction to rival his greek goddess counterpart. Hair smooth as silk, eyes glinting with mischief and a smirk that could bow you down on all fours. He has everything, or so it seems.

Sanity isn’t one of them.

He is VERY demanding when he craves your attention, which let’s face it is pretty often. If he doesn’t get it? Definition of a nightmarish brat.

He will whine, complain, blow up your phone. Still not available?

He’ll simply disappear.

For how long? Who really knows. He likes the thought of you on edge and anticipating his return, thoughts of him plaguing your mind to the point you question if you’re the one who’s obsessed.

Don’t worry though, when he returns he has enough sensual suave to make you forgive him ten times over.

You may think his bratty and sulking nature is the worst of it.

Oh how wrong you are.

Push him to his limits or the closest thing to it and you’ll face a cut-throat, teasing sadist who will tie you to the bed with a sickening sparkle in his eyes, marvelling at your skin jaggedly sliced open like a sheet of paper, tracing the wounds with his tongue and lapping up the blood before pulling you into a heated kiss which seems almost loving, if it weren’t for the metallic taste intertwining your tongues as a harsh reminder that you’re not here by choice.

He is definitely the type to mock you and howl with laughter as your body spams and writhes in pain, degrading you with the most vile remarks till tears spill from your eyes.

“Awh poor (Y/N)-chan, crying like a baby. Can’t handle the pain? What a pathetic little whore. Maybe if you beg enough, I’ll ease up the pressure~”

Sometimes he’ll leave you there wrist-bound to the bed post for hours, coming back in occasionally until your level of pleading satisfies him. 

His change in treatment is paradoxical in the aftermath, he will release you from your restrains and rub your skin with such tender care, it’s agonisingly deceiving.

One of the most dangerous things about him is his intuition, it’s damn near supernatural and makes for a natural born lie detector. Oikawa will sense the slightest shift in your mood, tone and body language. He knows you like the back of his hand, making it all the more unnerving to be in his presence.

This can be a positive if he is looking to fill you with ecstasy, since he knows every sweet spot, curl of his fingers and words to whisper that leave you trembling in mind-numbing pleasure.

Though you know once coming down from your high, your moments of heaven will slip through your fingers before crashing back down to reality.

He can read you like a book that he wrote with his own hands and it’s horrifying, he can predict what you’re going to say or do before you’ve even made up your mind. Which as you can guess, makes escape or wheedling out of a threatening scenario a null alternative.

If you decide to make the suicidal mistake of lying, your body will never quite function the same once he’s through. not to mention the plethora of emotional scarring that comes along with it.

After catching you in your mendacity and deeming your punishment enough, he’ll decorate your body in cuts, bruises and hickeys that throb from the abuse of his teeth. Laying you down in bed and tucking you in gently, wrapping an arm around in an act of ‘protection’ that was formerly wrapped around your throat in an act of threatening asphyxiation.

Eyes fluttering closed hours after he drifted off beside you, your heart rate quells and the tears staining your cheeks dry, preparing for the repeated cycle when the sun rises. 

How foolish to be lured in by such a facade, even the most beautiful of creatures can be hideous. 

Bokuto -  The Volcanoes Slaughter

Danger level: 9.5/10

The ticking of a time bomb, the cracking of the ground beneath your feet.

Once you are swept up in this man’s wrath you know there will never be an escape.

and he’s fucking terrifying.

His energy and vigour were what charmed you, his upbeat enthusiasm that while volatile, was very contagious and encouraging. 

If only you had known what kind of disaster was laying low under the surface.

Akaashi had tried to warn you, but you simply never listened.

He pities you now, for you’re in the same boat as him.

Eternally putting up with his violent tempers and erratic nature, which you often get the brunt of behind closed doors, left to cover the scars with a scarf and cheap pot of concealer.

His moods switch as quick as the direction of the wind, a gust too strong that leaves you flying back like a ragdoll against the wall.

Or that may just be because he actually threw you in a fit of rage, itching to see your limp body crack against the drywall to soothe his rage. Drowning the voices in his head with the sound of your soothing whimpers filled with agony.

While he may beat you black and blue whenever the overflow of emotions take over, he still does ‘care’ for you in his own sickening way, and would never have any qualms snapping a neck or two if it prevented anyone else laying a finger on you.

Though to be honest it’s the furthest thing from care, it’s downright monopolisation of something he deems his object.

How dare they hurt his personal punching bag, don’t they know you’re his and his alone to mark up in any way he pleases?

To everyone else, he seems like a very loving and protective boyfriend who has the occasional mood swing. If only they could pick up on the flinching of your body when his voice raises even a decibel, or the way you retract in fear at the swatting of a hand too close to your face. 

The anxiety felt when in his presence is indescribable, your whole body will soon become accustomed to trembling in fear, your fight or flight kicking in at the mere mention of his name. His voice sends every hair standing on end, bracing for the impact that may or may never come from his grazed fists.

Treading on eggshells and analysing every word before you speak will become second nature, even the tone of your voice or the way you arrange a question will be heavily thought over before even daring to let it escape your mouth.

You just can’t risk it, even hearing a word he doesn’t like will result in the tectonic plates shifting, getting closer to his impending eruption.

Once you hear the rumbling, you’ll know it’s far too late to run. Burned by the raging lava and consumed whole in a flood of pain and misery, it will destroy everything in it’s wake, even you.

Tendou - The Jesters Despair

Danger level: 10/10

You really opened pandora’s box with this one.

And once you so much as cracked it for a peak, just that little inkling of curiosity, the lanky arm of a redhead yanked your wrist and dragged you in with him.

Tendou’s eccentric and offbeat disposition was something you had always admired, it was what made your heart flutter.

Now? That eccentricity is put to the most horrifying of uses.

Mind games, manipulation, and unpredictability beyond your worst nightmare.

Tendou is the type to sink a blade into your skin and cackle maniacally while you cry and plead for him to stop. Edging himself and eyeing you up greedily at the painful fear in your eyes, blood trickling down your skin with each incision.

He’ll pull your hair back and slide his tongue along the cuts, his lustful gaze boring into your own as the pooling saliva leaves a chilling feeling on your skin, nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought of his DNA entering your bloodstream.

He thrives on trickery and deception. He’s the type to say something incredibly warm and soft-centred, one that makes your pupils expand in newfound hope with the question of “...really?” rolling off your tongue. That inkling of hope sparking the thought that maybe, just maybe he’s changed. 

Only to burst into a fit of laughter at your naivety, teasing you relentlessly for how gullible and moronic he thinks you are. 

This yandere is incredibly incalculable. Here one minute, gone the next. Don’t even bother trying to figure out what he’s doing or where he is, you’ll never know. It keeps you on your toes in the most negative and unnerving sense of the expression, he gets a buzz off leaving you wondering, and takes great satisfaction in knowing you’re probably thinking about him.

 However, he expects you to be there whenever he needs you, regardless of circumstance. And if you’re not? You’ll have consequences to face.

I’m sorry to say, but there is no chance in hell you’re surviving this experience, there’s no doubt you’ll be murdered eventually. 

After all, he does get bored easily. Not so much as giving it a second thought on disposing of you once you are no longer a source of fresh entertainment for his sadistic desires.

With each passing day his treatment becomes increasingly brutal, searching for new ways to fulfil that empty feeling in his heart and cold, hollow look in his eyes. Don’t even bother trying to save him, not even he would know where to start.

Every night as you shut your eyes on the hardwood floor beside his bed, you can’t help but wonder if this is the last time you’ll ever close them.

And for your sake? You’d better hope it is.

Charming you with the humour of a Jester and putting on a show, he’ll make it certain every time you laugh, will be paid back with tears twofold. 

Kageyama - The Majesties Tyrant

Danger level: 7/10

Kneel before your highness or face his wrath. Kageyama Tobio is the most commanding of them all. Permanently trapped in his dictatorship with no hope of revolt. 

He doesn’t become set on things very often, but once he does it’s something he’ll never give up until he’s conquered it wholly.

Stubborn, moody, domineering and demanding. With just enough of a soft side he uses to persuade you back again. 

Fuelled by ego, pride, and a sense of superiority, he will never stop until he has your total obedience.

Being the dense man he is, this is usually achieved through simplistic means of intimidation and threats of aggression.

Kageyama will not hesitate to raise his fist and back you into a corner, cowering in recoil at his menacing aura that itches to do damage

You will do what he says, whenever he needs it, no if’s but’s or objections.

For such a hard headed ruler, he’s surprisingly childish and unsure about how to express anything other than abuse.

I think a part of him genuinely does like you, but it’s far too clouded by his toxic nature that it could never be seen as even slightly redeemable.

The most you’ll ever get out of Kageyama is the occasional hug, in which he squeezes you far to tight and resurfaces the pain of last nights bruises.

He doesn’t resort to physical violence often, as he is always reprimanded by the team to control his anger. If only they knew what he was like behind closed doors. I suppose you could credit it to Karasuno that he hasn’t accidentally killed you yet.

Yet.

When it comes to matters in the bedroom, he is focused solely on his own gratification, yours being a second thought he never so much as acknowledges.

Collared and threaded by  chain, you will crawl beside him and take it all until you’re gasping for air. The only thing he cares about is climaxing and leaving you with the cleanup.

He’s quite self conscious, so don’t expect much physical affection unless he’s chasing a particularly intense release.

Kageyama is highly jealous and frequently painted green with envy, so expect your social life to dwindle significantly once he has his hands on you, literally and metaphorically.

Thankfully, he won’t isolate you entirely, but it’s enough to leave you feeling segregated from the rest of the world. A lone member of his regime that you are forever trapped in with no chance of escape.

Bow down with a meek mutter of “Yes...master.” His crown will twinkle in the moonlight as a symbol of your everlasting enslavement.

The king of the court, and the ruler of your heart.

[pynkhues]

.... any succession fic recs? 👀

Yes!! I haven't read a lot for it yet, but some of the stuff I've read has been staggeringly good. I'm generally more into gen fic in this particular fandom, but have enjoyed some Stewy x Kendall, Gerri x Roman and Naomi x Tabitha too.

A few recs under the cut!

“I wanted to get out. From under all this. Take the money and run.”

Kendall tells Stewy even though he knows he’ll never get it, not like Naomi does. He’ll never understand the crush of it, the heart-stopping head-fucking fear of failing a tyrant. Kendall’s been ignoring the shape of it for a long time, putting pieces of it together in the back of his mind in total darkness like a blindfolded man. It doesn’t matter that one day his dad will die. It doesn’t matter about the money or the hostile takeover or the stolen files or any of it. There’s no running. Kendall’s Logan Roy lives inside his head.

Stewy laughs. Stewy laughs for a long time.

“There is no out, Ken, what the fuck are you talking about? You were born this and you’ll die this. You are what you are, and what you are is a fucking Roy.”

Kendall hates him, for a moment. Lightning-strike furious. What the fuck does he know about any of it, about his dad’s swinging dinner plate-sized hands, about getting 24% name recognition in reliable international polling, about puking every time you think about a car swerving off the road in the rain. About finding out that you can do something unthinkably, unimaginably terrible, and it doesn’t matter to anyone you know but you. There’s a scar on his arm that no one else who hasn’t already been told how it got there can ever know about, and he’s sick of it, and it’s not fair. He hates Stewy for a moment because Stewy’s right.

“I wanted to do the right thing, Stewy, for once in my fucking life.”

Stewy laughs again, more briefly, and the predator flash of his eyes in the neon of the motel sign is a torture all its own.

‘There is no right and wrong, Ken. How the fuck do you not know that yet? Not for people like you. Like us. There’s shit you get caught doing and there’s shit you don’t.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You really, really fucking don’t,” says Ken, and fuck, there it is. The road less travelled, that only he has ever driven on. The path he’s down where Stewy can’t follow. That place beyond Stewy Hosseini where he never thought he could go.

“You’re not telling me something, and when I find out what that is, and I will find out what it is, Kendall, don’t you think I won’t, so I am warning you that when I do find out I am going to be righteously fucking pissed,” says Stewy, and if Kendall thought those were a predator’s eyes before—

“Yeah, you will,” says Kendall, because he knows exactly how perceptive Stewy is. Exactly how weak he is. Exactly, precisely what both of them are.

And treat this night like it’ll happen again by postcardmystery. 8k words. Kendall x Stewy. Post s2. (CW: internalised homophobia, some homophobic language)

I tried to pick a shorter excerpt, but I literally couldn’t, this fic is so. good. The voices are pitch perfect, and it’s got this incredible build to it overall that goes back and forth between time and point of views and just rips your heart out. The premise itself is pretty simple – after the press conference at the end of 2.10, Kendall calls Stewy, and they drive through rural America while Kendall has a breakdown, and it’s just - - unspeakably good. I love it so so so much, I have no words.

r/roysucks Connor’s gf just posted on Instagram (instagram.com) submitted two months ago by webbedscrum_2279 23 comments share save hide report

[–] DM_ME_SAMESMAIL 40 points two months ago I too like to escape to my yacht in the Mediterranean when my family and I are on trial for covering up rape and murder. permalink embed save report reply

AITA for accusing my father of multiple crimes on his own news station? By amleth 3k words. Gen fic. Post s2.

And now for something completely different – epistolary fic which is just reddit news threads of the Roy family drama. I love an epistolary fic and this is just totally charming, and made me laugh a lot out loud.

“You’re quiet,” she observes. “That’s a first.”

“Yeah, well, the Turks beat it out of me. Gave you a run for their money.” He waggles his eyebrows. “So what is this? Whips and chains? Are we doing the whole boat-sex thing? I heard Shiv and Tom are looking for a third —“

Gerri finds what she’s looking for: a black leather binder. She drops it on the bed and begins paging through it, and Roman cranes his neck enough to recognize that it’s just full of documents, not like, dick pics. “I’ve given some thought to what you proposed a few weeks ago, and I agree that we should make things official in some way,” she says, and he blinks.

“Uh,” he says. “Which — what part of it?”

“Take a look.”

Gerri closes the folio and hands it over. It’s deceptively heavy, and the print on these pages is way too fucking fine, he thinks, paging through it. “Is this some kind of, like, Fifty Shades of Roy sex contract? Because it’s not that I’m not into it, but I think there’s a strong argument for going paperless —”

“Strictly speaking, this isn’t legally binding,” Gerri says. “Just something I threw together with regard to our business arrangement going forward. But with no respect to the family — the past few weeks have really illustrated that no one should take anyone at their word right now. Give me a little more than your word.”

Evacuation strategies for a yacht on fire by devourthemoon. 11k words. Gerri x Roman. Post s2. Explicit.

After the events of s2, Roman and Gerri fake being married as a professional alliance, only, y’know, maybe it’s not so fake. This fic is just so, so much fun, and messy in the best possible way. The author nails all the character voices, and the sex scenes are just the right amount of hot and ridiculous, and I just love it all a lot too.

Kendall estimates it will take an hour for the first articles to go up. Some rapid-fire blog without oversight—the New York Post, maybe, or wherever those Vaulter hippies have skulked off to—will slap a catchy headline on it and report his words verbatim. Give or take a gif of his face when he switches to script number two. New York Times, Washington Post, AP, those fuckers take longer. They like to bleed the story like Middle Ages plague doctors for its marrow, fact-check and add context and analysis and as many backlinks as their servers can handle. Still, a couple of hours, and his face will be plastered on every major news outlet. His voice will play over the nightly talk shows. He’ll trend on Twitter. A few more days, and he’ll be the star of analysis segments, podcasts, weekly briefings. Maybe, fuck it, maybe he’ll trend on Twitter again.

It’s been years since Kendall read Shakespeare. But that shit sticks with you, gets under your skin and emerges when you least expect it, like eczema or Keynesian economics. He knows how the media will spin this. Kendall Roy Attacks CEO Logan for Years of Corruption. Prodigal Son Disrupts Family Legacy to Restore Credibility. That’s how Hamlet ends, right? And Macbeth, Lear, Othello, Romeo and Juliet, even Titus fucking Andronicus. The spilled blood sinks into the ground, the seedlings sprout forth from the soil, and a new castle is built on the bones. Order out of chaos, or at least close enough an approximation that the tabloids will buy it.

Legacy for profit by owlinaminor Post-2.10. Kendall Roy. Kendall through Shakespeare analogies – just - - ooooof. It's a beautiful, lyrical character study that weaves through Roy family history and teases at a future none of them are even sure they want. It's gorgeous writing.

For the next few days Shiv would have to keep the pressure on Kira like an open wound because there were other women, victims that Nate’s people were going to find one by one as soon as that phone call disconnected. Mo was her father’s friend, good friend, for a long, long time. Nate and Gil, Sandy and Stewy, too many sharks in the water and the share price probably dipped to a new low but she would never check a stock ticker. Her husband’s nerves fraying at the edges on national television. She had promised a woman she’d never met before that she would kill roughly one third of the top male executives of her family’s company. Her company.

The last look Rhea gave her before she shut the car door was concern close to fear—no longer the same woman who heard their pitch in the safe room, who laughed with her at Argestes. Rhea had only looked into the abyss; she got cold feet and she didn’t even know what it’s like to grow up in it.

Her family’s company is hers, will be hers. Even from a whale fall, new life would spring.

Feed his flesh to wayward daughters by reogulus. 2k words. Shiv Roy. Set during 2.09.

This entire fic is set around Shiv bribing Kira not to testify, and god, it is so good. It’s bleak and rough, and really hones in on the complex ground Shiv walks as a character. It's another brilliant study of what it takes to be a Roy, and the way they make the awful choices in order to fulfill this legacy that they don't even know they want.

Kendall sets down his fork. “So. Tell me. Is it everything you wanted? Is it what you thought it would be?”

Roman stills. He never does that. He’s constantly a menace in motion, slouching and fidgeting, worse even than Kendall at his amphetamine peak. “What? The view from the tippy-tippy-top?”

“His regard.” Kendall wipes his mouth with the edge of the white cloth napkin. It comes away pink from the steak. “Dad. He’s all yours now.”

Roman still hasn’t moved. Finally, he lurches, like corroded machinery come uncertainly to life. “Yeah, man. It’s fucking tight as hell. I love every beautiful daddy and me moment I was a good enough little boy to earn.” He snorts. “Fuck you.” His face goes curiously slack then, like something Kendall’s own face would do. An intermission in the performance, an energy cut. Something genuine finding its way to the surface. “Why don’t you tell me. When you got everything you wanted, how the fuck did that make you feel?”

Nauseous, is the first word that springs to mind. Sick. Scared. I’ve never had everything I wanted, there’s that. I’ve never once had a single fucking thing I wanted. There’s that, too.

Interim leadership by arbitrarily 2k words. Roman + Kendall. Post s2.

I love Roman and Kendall scenes generally, but this one which features Kendall and Roman meeting for the first time a few months after the press conference in 2.10 is just a bit magic. The push pull dynamic that's just inherent to them mixed with the genuine affection and brotherly love is really special, and arbitrarily embraces both in equal measure. It's a great little fic.

There are lots more of course, and I'd also recommend checking out other works by these authors, but I hope this is a good place to start! :-)

[impalementation]

if you're interested, i'd love to hear your thoughts on That scene in empty places, bc the way that i've seen most people talk about it doesn't always feel very nuanced and like... i get being frustrated and i for sure think some extremely unfair things to/about buffy were said, but i don't think it's as cut and dry as buffy being totally blameless (even though i love her) and everyone else (particularly the main scoobies, who don't have her responsibilities but have fought alongside her and earned the right to disagree w her imo) being terrible. Like it may have gone too far?? But idk, I have trouble articulating why, but I think there's more nuance to the situation than people want to say, so I'm curious about your thoughts

Anonymous asked:

whats your take on empty places and the scoobs kicking buffy out of her house?

Anonymous asked:

Why did Buffy allowed Dawn to kick her out in Empty Places?

Wow, so many questions about “Empty Places”! Sorry, as ever, that these took me a while to get to.

I actually agree, I think there’s more nuance there than it’s given credit for. I talked about that a bit in this post a while back. I wouldn’t say that the character build-up to that scene is as well-executed as it could have been, but it hardly comes out of nowhere, and it’s not some random thing. Or, as I’ve seen people suggest, simply there to make Spike look good and push him and Buffy together. I’m sure their romantic arc was a factor in the storytelling, but to call that the only motivation seems to me a vast oversimplification and dismissal of ideas that were built over the course of the season.

Season seven is, as I’ve discussed before, about how the Slayer system is broken. It’s a system that isolates Buffy and puts all of the decision-making in her hands. Meaning that it’s a system that is neither good for her, nor good for anyone around her, no matter how strong and brave Buffy is. All season long, we see Buffy struggle with both the limits of her power, and the demands of her authority. She wants to be able to save every girl, and fight every ubervamp, but she simply can’t be everywhere and stronger than everything. She wants to be a caring friend, but when she’s the one who has to make decisions about whether people should live or die, she can’t always be. When she’s the one who has to make all the hard choices, that means the blame always falls on her shoulders. When she fucks up, there’s nothing for her to fall back on. The fact that Buffy is forced to be this kind of sole authority means that the people around her are right to feel that they aren’t being listened to, or fully considered. Because often they aren’t. They see the people around them getting maimed and killed and suddenly realize that maybe it isn’t right that all their eggs should be in Buffy’s basket. But at the same time, they’re wrong, because they’re the ones who put their eggs there. They’re the ones who kept looking the other way as Buffy made hard choice after hard choice on their behalf. They’re as complicit in (and victimized by) the broken system as Buffy is.

Keep in mind the season’s perception themes. Everyone gets mad at Buffy, and Buffy gets mad at herself, because they’re all too close to the situation to see that the problem isn’t really Buffy, it’s what being the Slayer has forced Buffy to be. The dynamic it’s forced between her and the people around her. Notice how in the very next episode, Faith finds herself dealing with the exact same problems that Buffy was. The same hard decisions, and the same ambient resentments. It’s actually very important that Faith has to be a leader for a bit, in order to show this--the fact that the problem is being the Slayer, not Buffy. I’d even argue that it’s the much more thematically relevant motivation for the scene than getting Buffy and Spike alone.

As far as thematic motivations go, I also think it’s crucial that Buffy is thrown out of her house. That is some powerful symbolism for a season that leans so hard into the symbolism of Buffy’s house in general, and it’s disappointing to see people ignore it in their eagerness to be mad at everyone. The house is a lot of things—the familiar, the stable, the normative, the safe—but most importantly it’s also Buffy’s self. Notice how Spike and Faith, both Buffy’s shadow at different times, hang out in Buffy’s basement: the realm of the id and subconscious. Notice how as the house breaks down, Buffy gets injured as well.

So for Buffy to be thrown out of her house, it’s the climax of the season’s isolation themes not just in terms of story, but also metaphor. She has literally been cast out of herself. She’s been banished from her identity and role. But at the same time, once she’s on the outside of that myopic, claustrophobic system, she is able to connect with her shadow (Spike) and see the situation with new eyes. The reason that Spike is the one who can talk Buffy back is that firstly, unlike the Scoobies, his later seasons arc is all about learning to not ask Buffy for things that aren’t appropriate--romantic reciprocation, moral structure. Secondly, he was once the tool and symbol of her isolation, the icon of her shame and guilt and belief that she needed to isolate herself. For her to make peace with Spike is about her rejecting that isolation and shame, and transforming it.

Of course, I can talk about symbolism all I want and it doesn’t necessarily matter if the writers didn’t make it believable on the object level too—the level of character and plot and all of that. It’s a regular problem on Buffy, the writing caring more about symbolism than sense. While I think that most of the characters have adequate motivation for the scene—really, it’s been building from the beginning; remember the confrontation between Buffy and Xander as early as “Selfless”? or Buffy fighting with Giles and Wood two episodes earlier? or the way she argued with everyone in “Get It Done”? or the Potentials doubting her from basically their first episodes?—the one character that seems truly undeveloped is Dawn. She got that warning from the First in “Conversations With Dead People”, but the season doesn’t follow up on it well enough to draw a clear line between that seed of doubt and her attitude in “Empty Places.” Given that Dawn is Buffy’s “humanity” or “youth” or what have you, it’s symbolically significant that she would be the final one to cast Buffy out. But that seems like a clear case of the story not earning its metaphor, unfortunately.

To answer the third ask: as far as why Buffy let Dawn kick her out, on a character level I think she was pretty defeated by that point. But symbolically, I think the part about Buffy’s human self rejecting her is important for that. Buffy has a tenuous relationship to her belief in her humanity at the best of times, so it’s pretty easy for me to believe that she would feel lost and numbed enough by being rejected by that part of herself, that she wouldn’t fight it.

(Controversial opinion, but I actually kind of like that “Empty Places” isn’t due to the First sowing obvious discord. I’ve seen lots of people suggest that that would have been the stronger and more believable choice, and I get the instinct. But if the point of the season is to show that the villain is the Slayer system, then it makes more sense for that to be the thing that drives the conflict, and not an external force influencing them. There might have been a way to use the First that was compatible with that, but it wouldn’t have worked if the problem was just The First. Imo, of course.)

All of which is to say, that if you see the season as being about faulty perception, broken systems, and the dangers of isolation, then “Empty Places” actually makes perfect sense as a climax of the season. The problem really comes down to whether you think it was earned enough (which in some cases I think it was, and in others it wasn’t), or generally handled well, and whether you think those ideas are interesting in the first place.

[wittyvitale]

A Good Man (A Fluffy Castlevania Trepha Fic)

Author’s Note:  The Season 4 promo poster and trailer finally gave me the inspiration I needed to finish this fic. I can't wait for more soft Trepha content in Season 4, let's goooooooo

*

The evening was well underway and the Belmont mansion had a fire crackling in the fireplace. Trevor was seated on the couch, staring into the dancing flames. He looked away at the sound of familiar footsteps and watched as Sypha entered the room with a very drowsy baby snuggled against her chest. Trevor smiled softly at the pair.

“How’s our girl doing?” Trevor asked, a tinge of fatherly pride in his voice.

“Sonia is a very happy baby,” Sypha said with a smile as she sat next to her husband “She’s been fed, burped, and changed. In other words, she’s at her best right now.”

The baby sleepily looked around her and spotted her father.  Her lips began to curl upward and she reached a hand in Trevor’s direction. Trevor was only too happy to take his daughter and place her so that she was laying comfortably on his chest.

“A full stomach and a good shit are enough to make me happy as well,” Trevor replied as he held his daughter close. “Good job, Sunny.”

Sypha rolled her eyes but nestled into her husband’s side. She admired the baby who was starting to fall asleep on Trevor’s chest. Sypha took one finger and gently stroked her daughter’s cheek.

“She really takes after you, you know,” Sypha began. “She has your hair and your nose. She has your smile too.”

Trevor hummed. “You know that’s the first thing Alucard’ll comment on when he meets her. ‘How unfortunate that such a young child should be cursed with your looks, Belmont.’” Trevor ended with his best impression of the dhampir.

Sypha giggled in response. “Of course he’ll make a few smart remarks. I wouldn’t expect anything less from Alucard. But he’s Sonia’s honorary uncle. He’s going to fall in love with her.”

Trevor looked into Sonia’s eyes, which were blinking slowly. “Perhaps. But he’ll also say that Sonia’s only redeeming physical trait is her mother’s eyes. And honestly, that’s something I can agree with.”

Trevor and Sypha sat in companionable silence staring at their baby, completely entranced by this little human they had made together. Sonia shifted so she could nuzzle further into Trevor’s chest as sleep grew closer to claiming her. Trevor felt his heart swell.

“It’s amazing. I think she actually loves me.” Trevor said, sounding slightly surprised. Sypha raised an eyebrow.

“You’re her papa, of course she loves you!” Sypha responded incredulously, surprised at Trevor’s surprise. “Did you really doubt that our daughter loved you?”

Trevor took a deep breath and sighed. He had been reflecting on his life frequently over the past few months, and he finally decided to share his thoughts with Sypha.

“I mean, before I met you, I was an asshole.” Trevor explained. Sypha snickered.

“Oh believe me, I was well aware of that,” she replied with a smirk. “When we first met, I tried to tell you my name and you said ‘I don’t care’ before I finished. But what does that have to do with now?”

Trevor took a few seconds to think about how he was going to word his thoughts.

“After my family was killed and I was on my own, I honestly never expected to have a child or start my own family. I was convinced the Belmont line would die with me. I drifted from bar to bar without a purpose in life, starting fights and getting drunk every chance I got. Didn’t care about anything or anybody, especially not myself. I wasted years of my life doing that shit. I wasted years of my life being a shitty person. I never expected to be here, married with a kid, living in the rebuilt mansion of my ancestors. I sometimes wonder if I deserve any of this. I wonder how anybody could love me after how horrible I was.”

Sypha listened carefully (as Speakers tend to do.) She sat up and gently placed her hands on Trevor’s face.

“Trevor,” Sypha started. “We’ve known each other for several years now. We’ve travelled across the country together and now we have a child. I would like to think we know each other pretty well. Do you honestly think I would have stayed with you for all of that time if you were as horrible as you’re making yourself out to be?”

Trevor hummed in thought and glanced down, unsure how to respond. Sypha looked down at the baby on Trevor’s chest and smiled again.

“You know, when Sonia was still in my belly, Alucard let me read some of his mother’s research on child development,” Sypha started. “When Dr. Tepes was still alive, she cared for quite a few pregnant women. After their babies were born, she would care for both mother and child, making sure they were safe and healthy. But there was one thing she wrote about that really stood out to me, and it wasn’t even related to medical care. Do you know what she discovered?”

Sypha had Trevor’s attention. “What’s that?”

“Dr. Tepes discovered that babies were very sensitive to the emotions of others. They can sense when someone’s happy, sad, or nervous very easily. And this sensitivity makes babies very good judges of character. They know the difference between a good person and a bad person. Look at our daughter, Trevor.”

Trevor obeyed and he looked at baby Sonia, who was laying comfortably on her father’s chest fast asleep. She looked like the safest baby in the world.

“If what Dr. Tepes wrote is true, if babies can really tell the difference between good and bad, do you think our Sonia would be so comfortable right now?” Sypha asked. “Your past doesn’t define you, Trevor. Your past doesn’t define the kind of person you are. You were in so much pain when I met you. You were sad all the time. And you wanted that sadness to go away. When people are so desperate to get rid of that pain, they do bad things. But that doesn’t mean they are bad people. You have always been a good man, Trevor Belmont. You’re a good man who has been through horrible things. Now you have a daughter who adores you and feels safe with you. And you also have me. Never doubt that you’re deserving of happiness because of your past.”

In spite of himself, Trevor felt a few tears prickle in his eyes when Sypha finished speaking. He took his free hand to wipe them away.

“Shit, Sypha, you’re gonna make me cry if you keep talking like that,” Trevor sniffed. “You’ve always had such a way with words.”

“Well that tends to happen when you’re raised as a Speaker,” Sypha replied with a yawn as she nuzzled back into Trevor’s side. “I’m sleepy now. And like Sonia, I also feel safe when I snuggle against you. So you’re going to be my pillow tonight, ok?”

Trevor chuckled and wrapped his free arm around Sypha, bringing him closer to her. “Anything you want, Sypha. Thank you for… everything. Thank you for what you said. I don’t say this enough, but I’m thankful that we found each other when we did. I love you.”

“Mmm, love you too.” Sypha mumbled as she made herself comfortable on Trevor and fell asleep.

Trevor sat still and smiled. His wife and daughter, the two most important people in his life, were cuddled against him. Years ago, he never would have imagined himself in a place like this, sitting by the fireplace with his loving family around him. But maybe Sypha was right; maybe he was deserving of happiness. Maybe he was a good man. Trevor thought that it would still take time to fully convince himself of this, but for tonight, he decided to take Sypha’s words to heart. And those positive thoughts and the overall serenity of the night eventually lulled him to sleep as well.

*

End Notes:  In my opinion, Netflix Castlevania portrays mental health realistically. The way Trevor's trauma and depression are depicted is amazing. I love exploring Trevor as a character. When we first meet him he comes across as a total asshole, but he had such severe PTSD and depression that him being an asshole was just an act in order to protect himself. I can't wait to see if there are any other developments in his character in this final season. Hope you enjoyed :)

[bethchapelsbonnet]

I Dont remember if it Was on you're Ways to Tell ILY Prompt list but might I suggest a "I Choose you" Hournite One shot?

I didn't see you interact with the original submission I answered, so I included it here

I Choose You

All of the fuss that Beth went through to try to compile each and every piece of evidence that someone may need in order to get Rick the heck out of that place was simply... Well - it was actually exhausting, but she never realized until she was at the end of her days.

The database was always excellent and as the official Dr. Mid-Nite, she had access to even more information.

Not what she truly needed - to be able to actually speak to Rick. To assess how he was doing. To at least hold his hand, which.. she was conflicted about that one in particular. She didn't understand why that idea kept coming to her when she and Rick never actually really touched each other that way.

Casually - pats on the back or holding each other back in a fight, but nothing so intimate as hand holding. Maybe it was her renewed self confidence. She had chosen herself. And now, she was choosing Rick. 

They didn't allow any of them to see him. He was currently being held at a juvenile center, assigned a caseworker and a child advocate attorney, with an ongoing investigation about his uncle and his home life. But, Beth found out the names of everyone involved in his case and she was sending them documents, school reports, and everything that she could scrape up to prove that Rick was in a dangerous household and had been abused and mistreated. 

It was her hope that they would all see it was self defense and go easy on him. Courtney and Pat had tried to explain to her that Eclipso was controlling him. It wasn't self defense. It was just a terrible mind game.

Not too long ago, they were pressing her to accept murdering a bad guy… but suddenly, when it's THIS bad guy… who didn't even DIE, they were willing to accept Rick turning himself in and being put away? "It's what Rick wanted, to be held accountable.."

"He didn't DO it! It was Eclipso!" Beth had snapped at Courtney. Courtney's eyes went wide and she got quiet. Of course she knew that and she didn't deserve Beth being rude with her, either, but Beth was too frustrated to tell herself that at the moment and Rick wasn't around…

She called him anyway, as she stormed out. 

"Rick!" She took a deep breath, "You don't deserve to be held responsible for something that you didn't do wrong!" She noticed Courtney in the corner of her eye and whispered, "There's nothing you need to be held accountable for and I'm working on helping you get out. Just… I hope you aren't too hard on yourself." She hung up and looked at Courtney.

"I watched him run around, hallucinating, breaking down as he was attacked by something that we couldn't see… it was like with Yolanda, only someone did get hurt. I didn't want to have to see that again and it wasn't easy to let Rick confess, but what else could we do? What would you have done differently?"

Beth wanted to say that she wouldn't have let him out of her sight, that she would have talked to him until he was back down to Earth..  but as a firm believer in herself, some part of her knew that Courtney didn't have that type of power. Beth was the one who could stop Rick in his tracks and make him think for a moment. 

"What about when you see a dead 10 year old girl? Would you have been able to use your head in that moment and stop him from reacting?"

Beth sniffled and wiped her face, "If I was here, I know that I could have fixed this. I know that I could have talked him down. He listens to me. It's different with us. And with Eclipso… it's personal now."

.

Rick heard about an "adorable but incredibly annoying" girl who spoonfed a lot of information to his case worker and his advocate. They didn't have to describe her. He did initially automatically think Courtney, since that was who saw him last on the outside and that's who annoyed him more than any girl he knew…

But when they spoke about legal documents, school incidents and cases and studies of similar cases..  He knew that they meant Beth. A lot of her findings needed to be double checked by the proper authorities and his advocate would need to speak with a judge, but it was looking like Rick may be entitled to psychological treatment from years of abuse that resulted in him finally lashing back.

He wanted to argue with that, but in a way.. that felt like some type of hope and he couldn't say there wasn't truth in it. Whatever Beth had done, he finally felt some peace of mind, since coming here…

.

The court order to grant him a placement took shorter than he thought, even though it still felt super long. The Chapels weren't foster parents, but thanks to some… creative documentation on Beth's part, they were able to be listed as family friends to whom custody could be signed over.

He would be trying for emancipation, but in the meantime, he had a place to sleep and eat and stuff… and Beth was there.

"How did you manage to pull this off?" Rick wondered, more confused than grateful, but she didn't take it to heart. She smiled and tapped her goggles. "Of course…" he stared at his bags on the floor. "Did you get the full story?"

"I got Courtney and Pat's side of it. You don't have to tell me, but in your own time, if you want to, you can." She handed him some mail, "I filled out your paperwork and sent it in. You've gotten at least one response."

"My paperwork?"

She winced, "I totally trespassed into your car and home, scanning everything and looking for something to help me. I traced punched in walls, I took an inventory of the alcohol in there, you name it. I also found the forms that you had for college and financial aid. I took them with me, but also wondered what they were doing there. So I checked on cell phone records and saw that Miss Woods-" she rolled her eyes when she said her name. (She wasn't fond of how cruelly that woman had treated Rick, and she didn't mind saying so), "Had been there. I figured she was the one who gave those to you, went to pay her a visit and questioned her until she told me about what happened earlier. She had seen your uncle and he was belligerent and drinking. I told her that I would speak to your advocate in order to see if that was usable information. It was. She made for a very dependable character reference."

Rick looked stunned. He didn't know what to say, but eventually landed on, "Why am I at your house and not at Pat's? I don't even know your parents and they probably aren't pleased about what happened." 

"Well, I believe that I've managed to do quite the PR campaign for you when I was making my rounds to see if anybody had recollection of witnessing your uncle be unkind to you. A lot of people have been quiet about things that they should have spoken up about… myself included.." she lowered her head, "I noticed bruises on you sometimes at lunch when we weren't friends and I guessed that they weren't from some school fight, otherwise, the school would know." She looked up at him and her eyes were brimming with tears, "All of us made choices to mind our business and just leave you to fend for yourself. Everybody's been feeling pretty guilty that it came to… that.."

She cleared her throat, "There's enough going on at Courtney's house, and Yolanda's isn't an option. I couldn't let you wind up at the group home. Artemis is there. The last time you two saw each other, you almost killed one another. I thought my home was the best choice. It's safe, there's just me here. My parents believed me when I vouched for you, so they would be acting like wardens or anything, and I just… I feel better knowing that if something happens, I'll be there."

He sat down on the guest bed and twiddled his thumbs, "That's just it. If something happens, I… I no longer have the hourglass. I won't be able to protect you fully."

"I can protect myself," she said, sitting next to him. "Just wait until you hear my Eclipso story."

"Your what?"

"He attacked me the same time that he attacked you…" Rick looked terrified as he checked her over for damages. "It's a long story, but I'm fine. It went very differently for me than it did for you." She looked sad for a moment. I think he must've known."

He was confused. Beth looked him in the eyes through her goggles, "That we protect each other. That you fight for me and I fight for you. I felt so victorious when I was able to take my goggles back from me and solidify my place on the team… the. I found out he had gotten to my Rick…" 

His heart jumped in his chest and he stared at her. He reached for her goggles but she shook her head and he withdrew his hands. "It wasn't anything to do with you."

"No, but had I been there…"

"Then you could have gotten hurt or had to see me become the very kind of monster that I hate!" 

She furrowed her eyebrows and she grabbed his hand, harder than she meant to, but that demanded his attention and he stared at her face, "If I had been there, you would've had the extra strength you needed to see through him. I wouldn't have let you fight. Please believe me when I say that I'm sure I could have talked some sense into you. I could have saved you from thinking that you're a monster. Because you aren't a monster, Rick. You're a kid who was in a situation that most of us can't fathom, and when you needed me, I wasn't there." He started crying and shook his head. "I'll understand if you want to stay with Mr. Dugan instead…"

"No. No.."He had told Grundy that day that he just needed someone to care about him, to be kind to him, and he could be alright. Rick was so caught up in the stress of his uncle, he hadn't thought about how he did have someone like that. He had his friends, the Dugans, and he had Beth. She had done all of this, because she felt like she'd failed him. Like she was supposed to protect him. She wasn't obligated to do that, but the fact that she wanted to, that she tried to. 

Hell, she was even correct about being able to talk him down. He didn't know if she could have that night, but as much as she meant to him… he couldn't rule out that what if. He collected her hand to his heart and said extremely softly, "I choose you." 

@futurewriterwannebe

[peter-pan-on-neverland]

Opposites Attract

Request: hey may I request a one shot for your Peter Pan story if yes can you, use my real name (Zai) instead of Y/N if you please and can you have me pans total opposite like sweet, shy everything he would hate but in the end he falls for her and becomes really protective

Pairing: Pan x Zai

Warning: None

Part 2 >

It was so surreal, everything around me seemed to move in slow motion as if I were a character stuck inside of a movie, high pitched ringing pierced through my ears and stung my brain like a thousand tiny knives pricking it. An uncontrollable tremble grabbed a hold of my body refusing to let go, toying with my muscles as though I were nothing but a puppet on a string dancing for the demon that now had possession of my tiny frame.

The air was cold, so very cold, nipping and scratching at my fare skin as I silently sat on the leaf-covered floor. So many questions ran through my mind, too many to count, too many to keep ahold of. What was this dark place I had found myself in?

Dirt and pinecones filled my nostrils as I took heavy, deep breaths in and out, in and out, in and out.

A pair of eye's shot daggers at the back of my head, sending shivers to travel up and down my spine. The knotting in my stomach became apparent, growing tighter and higher by the second. I tried my hardest to fight off the fear which coursed through my veins and stole my heart, but I couldn't. There was no power in the world, no bribe was big enough, and no prize was worthy enough to get me to turn around and meet the eyes staring at me.

As time passed I felt more and more eyes creep up behind me, taking their place and just silently watching. That's when I heard them, footsteps, shuffling, whispers in the night running through to cold air from person to person, or perhaps from monster to monster.

"What have we got here boys?" A jovial voice sounded, too old to be a child's but it held the power and wisdom of a thousand lifetimes.

"We-we think it's a girl, Pan." Another said.

Pan, so that was the creature's name. In any normal circumstance, someone might jump for joy at the sign of another person, but this was no normal circumstance and the confirmation of other people only made my skin crawl. Every red flag was waving and alarm bell ringing, I was not safe, not one bit.

"She might be dead, or unconscious," Someone sounded, "she hasn't moved in a while."

Whoever this Pan was leant down close to me, so close I could feel his breath travel down the nape of my neck. He placed two gentle fingers on my pulse, paying for a second.

"She's not dead," He confirmed, "James and Dan set up a tent for her, Felix see if she has any wounds and take care f them if she does."

It was Clear Pan had authority over everyone else there as if he were some kind of mayor or leader, the boys named did nothing to displease him as their footsteps grew quieter and quieter.

"Where are you going, Pan?" A rather deep, husky voice spoke, curiosity dripping off every word yet he was confident in his ways. Maybe he was somewhere higher up on the food chain in this strange land that he had to power to question and possibly even disobey.

"To ask the shadows why they bought a bloody girl to the island." His tone had changed, sounding more aggravated than intrigued.

There were no other words exchanged between the two and I could feel myself being lifted off the cold ground, I felt weightless in the arms of this stranger that I was too afraid to look at.

Perhaps I would become a burden to the boy, but I had no energy left to think about that, I had no energy left to think about anything. I wanted nothing more than to drift off into a peaceful sleep but my body would not allow it for the danger had not yet passed, it kept trying to fight and fight but finally lost the battle and sleep had won out.

I woke up, my head pounding like there was no tomorrow. I found myself in a white tent, laying upon a mattress, only a thin blanket keeping the cold from consuming me. Swinging my legs over the side of the make-shift bed I walked towards the fabric flaps, sunlight poured into the room as I pulled them back, almost blinding me.

A tall figure hovered over me, blocking out the sun. For a split second, he looked like a dark, black giant but once my eyes adjusted I took a closer look at his face. Is pale blue eyes stared at mine for what seemed like a few minutes, becoming familiar with my brown ones. I noted down the scar that ran down his cheek, how did he get it?

"Pan," He called, "she's awake."

My eyes averted to the boy, who looked no older than seventeen, quickly stalking towards us. Panic flashed through my body enduring my paralyzed, there was nothing I could do but watch as they got closer and closer despite the urge of wanting to run and flee.

His eyes stood out to me the most, the vibrant green colour seemed to radiate off him, capturing and gaze and holding it there. This boy had power, that much was obvious, what scared me was how he used it. There's no doubt in my mind that he could mortally wound or even kill me if I looked at him the wrong way, the safest route is to be obedient otherwise I could end up dead.

"Follow me." He said sternly, I didn't dare speak, I didn't dare to even breathe I just nodded my head in his direction before silently following after him like a little lost puppy.

One step after another I felt more and more eyes scanning over my body, however, I would never meet anyone's gaze. I wouldn't dare give any of these people the satisfaction, after all, they still need to tell me how I got here in the first place. I felt like an animal caged up in the zoo, just a pretty and unusual thing for them to stare and gawk at, all the meanwhile missing my home.

A pain shot through my chest, a deep aching at the thought of my family and friends, at the thought of everything I had left behind.

"Sit." The leader spoke, snapping me from my thoughts.

I complied without any issues, placing myself onto the wooden stump poking its head out of the ground to say hello to the golden, glowing sun beaming down on everything below it. I hadn't noticed just how beautiful this place was in the day time, the lush green trees, the birds tweeting, the odd deer walking by before scattering and running off from the wild people whom they shared the land with.

I felt his strange green eyes watching me, finally, I had worked up enough courage to look into them. They were filled with wonder and amazement, much like a child seeing snow for the first time.

"You can start by telling me your name," The boy's thick British accent becoming prominent.

"Zai," I whispered, nearly audible but he heard it and so did the forest.

"Zai," He repeated as if he were testing out how my name sounded on his tongue, "Cute. Now, what are you doing on my island?"

Oh, so it was his island.

"I don't know," I said, my tone sickly sweet but the boy in front of me could tell I was being genuine.

"You're a strange one aren't you?" He claimed, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear an act that made my cheeks turn a deep shade of red as I desperately tried to hide my face from his view.

I should be afraid, I should be terrified, running for the hills and never looking back. There was danger behind those vibrant green orbs, so much danged but for some reason that only drew me in more. The very thing that should make me leave is the same exact thing compelling me to stay, how can that be?

I had never been one for diving into the deep end or taking risks, I liked to be in control of my fate and how everything played out, I know this boy could never give me security so why am I being pulled closer and closer t him?

He's attractive yes, as if he were chiseled by the God's themselves, but it's more than that, it's deeper than that. The risk, the excitement of it all is what drew me in and managed to hold me there. Maybe staying here wasn't as big of a heartache as I previously thought.

"Well I guess that's irrelevant, I'll be sending you home now." He announced.

"What makes you think I want to go home?" I asked, standing up defensively.

He raised a single eyebrow at me, the expression on his face caused me to shiver, "So you want to stay little one?"

I could feel a smile creeping its way onto my face at his words, "Perhaps to do, I could be of use to you,"

I desperately tried to come up with a list of jobs I could do just so he could let me stay, although I was still scared I had this feeling deep inside on me. Way down in my bones as if I were meant to be here as if my soul belonged here.

"I can cook." I blurted out.

Only to be met with a smirk, "My boys can cook too."

"I can clean," I said.

"So can my boys." The leader retaliated.

"Can they?" I asked, raising my eyebrow to him, mimicking his previous actions, he gave a low husky chuckle to my somewhat sassy comment.

"Oh, I'm sorry princess, is it not up to your standard?" The boy smirked in return, toying with me a little. He could sense when I was on edge, I knew he could, maybe a skill he had picked up in the years that he had been alive.

"Please, I'll do anything, anything you ask of me!" I pleaded, hoping and praying that he would allow me to reside here with him.

"It doesn't matter what you want." His demeanor suddenly turning nasty at the flip of a switch, the green eyed boy stalked closer and closer to me until my back had been pressed against a tree, leaning down he whispered, "I don't have girls on my island, you're weak I have no need for your kind."

I felt my blood being to boil, this misogynistic-

I held myself back from doing something that I regret, out of the fear that I could possibly end up dead at any second.

"Maybe they are where you're from," I said in a low yet innocent tone, my words sounding like a smooth lullaby slipping into his mind, "But I am different."

"Fine, I'll be interested to see how long you last around here." He stated, "I'll get Felix to show you around."

He took a few steps back, giving me the space that I craved. I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding in until now. Pan's comment not only sprinkled fear and dread into me once more but also seemed to excite me as if I had something to prove to these people. One thing was apparent, they were not people I wanted to play with or tourment. I was better off just seeing how this plays out and trying not to end up dead in the process.

Within the day I had circled around the island twice seeing all the beautiful sights and scenery as Felix, who is the second in command around here, told me what was what. His explanations were only met with a nod as I was far too shy and nervous to open my mouth around him or any of the boys for that matter. Luckily for me, Felix wasn't much of a talker either, we spent most of our little adventure in awkward silence.

The more I explored the more I wanted, no longed to stay here. The crystal blue seas, the majestic waterfalls, the tall towering trees, and the white sandy beaches. This place seemed like paradise, shame the people who inhabited it didn't radiate the same energy.

The once pale blue sky turn to a dark navy as tiny, white sparkling dots hang high in the sky, a roaring fire was situated in the middle of the camp the boys all sat around eating, laughing, and having a good time. They all seemed so happy, yet the damage behind their eyes was apparent, they all had the same look behind them.

I felt a presence sit down beside me, "Zai," they spoke, to which I said nothing. I didn't turn my head to look at the person whose voice I had heard not hours before.

Before I knew what was happening a hand was placed under my chin, forcing me to look in their direction, "It's not a wise idea to ignore me, little one."

"Sorry," I whispered, I knew he heard my faint words but I wasn't entirely sure they made that much of a difference.

"Funny, just hours ago we were having a perfectly fluent conversation and now you seem so shaken up you're hardly getting your words out, tell me, why is that?" He knew what he was doing, it was apparent, he knew he had the upper hand, he knew I was still scared.

I shrugged at their so-called king, not giving him the satisfaction he craved, he wanted me to squirm, but I wouldn't allow that to happen.

As the days went by my shyness didn't disappear or get easier, in fact, it seemed to get worse. I was on edge, especially around Pan, it wasn't hard to tell that the boy was ruthless.

It was hot, the sun beaming down on the island. We all slowly walk deeper and deeper into the forest the boys not only thankful for the shade but excited for the activities ahead. Pan had promised us a game of target practice, something that I had learned I was terrible at.

Silently, I watched from afar as the boys took turns shooting apples off one another head. Of course, there were many injuries but they loved the thrill of it. I got many stares, none of which I paid any attention to, but what riled me up the most were to comments.

"What's she even doing here?"

"Why would Pan allow a girl into the camp?"

"Look at her she wouldn't even hurt a fly."

"She doesn't have what it takes to be one of us, she's too sweet."

"I wish she would just go back to where she came from."

Biting my tongue, I tried not to let their words get to me. Sometimes I fantasize about those boys tied to a tree, no means of escape or survival, I would pull the arrow back tight, stretching the string of the bow before letting go. The arrow would soar through the air before landing deep into their skulls with a satisfying think, bullseye.

I could feel the wicked smile on my face grow as my heart became that little bit darker. What was wrong with me? I had never wished ill will upon anyone before, so why was I starting to know. Maybe it was the island, supplying me with anger as if it were some kind of git, some means for survival if in a wretched yet beautiful place.

Suddenly, everything stopped and silence grabbed hold of everyone around. My interest was peaked, I rose from my makeshift seat to see what was going on. There the leader of the lost boys had one of his very own pinned to a tree by an invisible force, choking and spluttering as his legs kicked and kicked.

I wasn't sure what had brought this on, but my gaze was held hostage by the scene unfolding before me, the boy begged and begged apologizing relentlessly, but none of that mattered to Pan. We all stood there and watched, some boys with tears in their eyes as their friend asked for mercy and was not given it, I almost felt bad for the boy until I had realized who it was.

Adam, the little ring leader of the group of boys who liked to push my buttons.

We all looked on as the light slowly left his eyes, his cold body slumped to the floor, no one dared to move.

"Fun's over boys," His powerful voice boomed, echoing all over the forest, "Get back to work."

One by one the boys went back to camp, they were shaken up, but not as bad as I was. I still felt a sense of remorse for the poor boy, but the more I reminded myself of all the things he said the sad about it I felt. I still wasn't able to take my eyes off his lifeless body until there was no one else around apart from Pan.

I looked up at him, but no words left my mouth, they were all choked up in my throat. The smirk on his face let me know he was proud of what he had accomplished a minute ago, what kind of a monster was he?

He left, leaving a wink as his parting gift to me.

A cold shiver ran down my spine, I didn't like what he had done and worst of all I didn't like how he had just made me feel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you guys like part 1!!

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 3. You Can Miss Something, But Not Want It Back

Summary: Steve opens up to Peggy about his feelings towards Katie and, after an emotionally charged afternoon, things heat up between the pair.  But it all goes horribly wrong.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Angst and a pair of total dumbasses in love…

A/N: A huge thank you to @angrybirdcr​ for her lovely little edit below. She’s so talented!!!!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 2

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 April 2013

“You know, you need to find someone you can experience all this with.” Peggy looked at her picture frames on her nightstand. “So you can have as many memories as I do.” Her gaze returned to Steve and he wondered if she could possibly know about his feelings towards Katie, those feelings that had been growing stronger and stronger over the past few weeks.

And then when she asked the next question, he knew she did.

“How’s Miss Stark?” Peggy asked, her eyes twinkling and Steve looked at her as a wicked smile crossed her face. He rolled his eyes.

“Peg…”

“I’m just asking a question!” She teased.

“We’re just friends.” he sighed.

“Hmmm” the old lady said thoughtfully “Still a bloody idiot when it comes to women, I see.”

He shook his head, a small laugh escaping him.

“I can tell you like her, the way you talk about her.” she pressed

“I do, I like her a lot, but she’s my best friend. Nothing more.”

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it.” She lay back on the pillow. “Thousands wouldn’t.”

“Just a good I don’t need to convince thousands.” He leaned back in the chair, raising an eyebrow at her.

“No, just yourself.” She shot back and he sighed. “Talk to me Steve.” She pressed again and he took a deep breath.

“I don’t know, maybe…ok not maybe…I do like her you’re right, but it’s just so damn complicated.”

“Why?”

“We’re from different places, times.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Do you always have to be so dramatic?” She laughed

“You know, I’m getting tired of you calling me that.” He teased and Peggy laughed again.

“Because you are!” She shook her head. “Steve, I get it, you’re old…but, you’re not.” “Well that’s not confusing.” He rolled his eyes.

“What I mean is I have lived through these times, seen the world change, a lot of it for the better. Don’t let your life pass you by because you’ve still got one foot jamming open the door to the past”

“I know.” He popped a shoulder in resignation. “You know, sometimes I think it would be easier if I had my old life back, when times seemed a lot simpler.” “But then she wouldn’t be there.” Peggy raised her eyebrows. “You can miss something and not want it back, Steve. Just tell her how you feel, for goodness sake.”

“I don’t want to make an idiot of myself.” He shook his head. “If she doesn’t feel the same then-“

“Then at least you’ll know, and won’t live the rest of forever adding to that huge, great list of ‘what ifs’” the old woman shook her head “You’ve been given a second chance here Steve, don’t waste it. Barnes would be so mad at you right now.”

Steve had to fight a smile as he knew exactly what Buck would be saying if he were there.

“If you don’t ask her out, punk then I’m gonna…”

Suddenly a memory flashed in front of his eyes. The evening Peggy had walked into a pokey London boozer in that red dress, the one that had Bucky practically drooling and Steve’s crotch twitching slightly.

“I’m invisible…” Bucky moaned, turning back to the bar as she left, having just basically asked Steve to go dancing when the fighting was over.“I’m turning into you…”

“Never mind pal, maybe she has a friend…”

“You know, I’d like to see her again one day?” Peggy spoke, jerking him out of his thoughts “Katie, I mean.”

“Really?” he asked. Peggy had mentioned she had met Katie several times years ago, when she was a very small girl. Peggy and Howard had remained close until his death.

She nodded. “Especially if she’s as like Howard as you say.” “Alright, I’ll bring her in one day.” He said, before his phone beeped.

“When?” the old woman pressed.

“Were you always this impatient?” Steve quipped an eyebrow at her as he opened the message. It was a call in. He sighed “Soon, I promise.” He stood up. “Sorry Peg, I gotta go. Duty calls…”

*****

The mission was the retrieval of a stolen piece of Chitauri technology that had, according to Romanoff’s intelligence, been auctioned to some Arms traders operating out of Jordan. They were to intercept the piece of technology before turning over the dealers to the authorities. They were up against it time wise, and for that reason, everyone had boarded the jet with no real plan of what they were actually going to do, Steve had been thinking about it and studying the files since the jet took off and now he and Natasha had the bones of a strategy planned out, they just needed to flesh it out with the team.

“We’re at altitude.” Evans called from the cockpit. “Auto pilot engaged. ETA I hour 34.”

Everyone moved from their seats and crowded round the display as Natasha gave them a rundown of what they were up against.

“The main exits are here and here.” she span the blue prints round on the holodisplay. Katie frowned, her mind working fast “Evans and I can position ourselves here…” She pointed to the right of the screen. “That should give us a clear view of most of the grounds but there’s a blackspot here…” She moved her hand to the left, circling the bottom corner.

“Well we’ll just have to keep them away from there.” Steve said, and Katie glanced at him, his eyes flashing with humour. Their eyes remained locked, before Steve swallowed and he looked back round, clearing his throat. “There should be a clear run from where we touch down to the lawns.”

“Sure.” Katie nodded, making a show of looking at the detail, even though she wasn’t. Her mind was spinning. She’d been picking up signals from Steve for a few weeks now, signals that he might feel the same way as she did. The glances he gave her, the smile he would flash her that made her feel like there was no one else in the room. The gentle touches, the way he would lift her legs on movie nights so they were laying across his lap, how he would throw his arm round her when she’d lean into him, moments like the one that had just passed… but then, he made no effort to take things further and she wasn’t about to push him into anything. If there was something there, he had to decide, he had to make the decision he was ready to move forward. 

And Katie wasn’t sure he ever would be.

“Rumlow, I want a STRIKE perimeter set up around the site. Cover that blackspot.” Steve looked at Rumlow who nodded. "The weapon is our main priority, but I want a clean sweep so they don’t have chance to do this again. Then I want you and Rollins with me and Romanoff inside to flush them out. Stark, Evans you to take down anyone who looks like they might break the perimeter, non-lethal if you can.”

Katie turned to Evans who nodded at her, the pair of them sharing a fist bump as he winked at her. Evans was a brilliant partner, and a good friend at that too. They worked well together.

The rest of the journey was spent pouring over blue prints, and once they reached the point where they could land safely, everyone was confident they were prepared as much as they could be. Whether that would be enough, was a different question.  

Natasha and Steve slinked off into the shadows, heading to the building. There were two armed guards on the door but they had the element of surprise and took them out easily.

“Ok, we’re in…” Steve spoke. “Get ready, as soon as they see us they’ll make a run for it.”

Katie listened from her vantage point, a tall oak tree that overhung the South East side of the property, rifle trained, ready.

“I count six.” Natasha spoke

“At least three are armed.” Rumlow added

“Any sign of the weapon?” Katie asked.

“Negative…”

Katie kept her attention on the spot she was covering, and had to fight the giggle that threatened to erupt in her throat when she heard Steve utter, quite possibly, the cheesiest line he could have come out with when their team burst into the room.

“Auction is over Gentlemen. Where’s the Weapon?”

There was a split second and then all hell broke loose. Gun fire erupted in the ears of everyone listening on the coms along with the familiar sound of vibranium clanging off surfaces and people alike.

“One is making a break for it.” Rumlow yelled and Katie stiffened, raising her rifle slightly “Along with a case, it must be the weapon.”

“In pursuit.” Nat responded.“

He’s armed.” Steve shot back. “Someone cover her.” More gunfire and clanging rang out as Katie watched the door she was covering, not once breaking her line of sight. Suddenly it burst open and the man with the case flew out, shortly followed by a shock of red hair. But as Katie watched, her sharp eyes picked up movement in the shadow and someone barrelled at Natasha taking her down.

“Shit! Romanoff’s got company!”

“I’m handling it.” The red head grunted, jumping up.

Katie paused, before remembering the main operative.

“I’ve got no shot.” Evans spoke in her ear and Katie wheeled round locating the man in her sight. She cocked her gun, exhaled sharply, and pulled the trigger. Seconds later he hit the floor, clutching at his knee.

“Hostile down.” she informed, allowing herself a little smug smile before her attention turned to Natasha, who now had her target in a choke hold. He went limp and then she released him, dropping him.

“Well handled Widow.” Katie quipped.

“You do know that I can kill a man in twenty different ways, using just my hands, right?” Natasha replied, making her way over to the man with a bullet in his knee cap.

“Twenty?” Katie muttered, “I can think of, what, like eight, max?”

“Clearly you lack imagination, Nova.”

Once Steve was happy that the inside was clear and everyone was rounded up and secured, he made his way outside and headed over to where Natasha was kneeling over the briefcase. She opened it and grinned up at Steve, the black, silver and purple metal shining back up at them.

“The package is secure.” Steve smiled at Natasha, “Alright, Good job team. Rumlow, tell the Authorities they can move in, clear this lot up.”

“Sure Cap.”

“She’s good.” Natasha watched Katie join Evans where he was crossing the lawn, the two exchanging a hi-five before they made their way back to the jet.

“Yeah she is.” Steve nodded, allowing his eyes to follow Katie for a moment a she walked across the grounds.

“When you gonna ask her on a date?” Nat asked, turning to him as he picked up the case and they made their way back to join their team, the local police now swarming the place meant they were no longer needed.

“Seriously?” Steve looked at the red head rolling his eyes. “We’re in the middle of an op and you ask me that?”

“Well first off the op is over and second off I’m just trying to help. I see the way you look at her, like there’s no one else in the room.”

Steve floundered for a response. Was he really that obvious, or was Natasha simply that observant? He settled for a shake of the head, and an exasperated sigh. “You were trying to fix me up with someone from accounts not long ago.”

“Yeah that was before I decided Stark is a better match “ She shrugged, walking up the ramp to the jet.

Thankfully, Steve was spared responding as the jet was loud with cheering, the team all crowding Katie, taking turns to slap her back and congratulate her on a shot well taken.

Katie couldn’t help but grin as she removed her utility vest, before holding her hands up “Thanks but it was a team effort.” She felt a hand drop on her shoulder and she turned to Steve.

“If you hadn’t taken that shot he would have got away.” He looked at her. “All in a day work Cap.” she smiled.

“I mean it. You’re the best shooter I’ve seen since Buck.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze before instructing Evans to get them back to base.

As they flew back, Rumlow was engaging Katie in a conversation about a date he had had the previous weekend. Steve wasn’t really listening, but as Katie threw her head back in a genuine laugh at something Rumlow had said, gently nudging the man in the arm, it felt like someone was digging knives into his chest as the waves of jealousy crashed over him.

He glanced over at Romanoff who raised an eyebrow at him having seen the exchange and mouthed the word “just fucking ask her” and he looked away, irritated.

Steve wasn’t a chauvinist by any means, but he’d had enough that day of women telling him what to do.

*****

May 2013

The start of May brought with it a week of nothing but rain. And it was during this week that Fury dropped a bombshell on Steve. The Smithsonian wanted to curate an exhibit about him, and SHIELD along with the Government thought it would be a good idea. Steve wasn’t entirely sure how he felt to be honest. He knew the world was fascinated with Captain America, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about them knowing about him, about Steve Rogers.

So this was how he’d ended up taking a trip down memory lane in an office at the Triskellion, surrounded by boxes of his belongings that had all been in storage, things he had long forgotten he had. He’d found his mother’s old ring, the one his father had bought her when they left Ireland, a St Christopher’s pendant that had belonged to his father, a few books which Katie told him were first editions and probably worth a fortune, a couple of old records, a stash of Photos which Katie was currently digging through and something that made his breath catch when his hand closed around it. His compass, the one containing Peggy’s photo.

“Steve.” Katie spoke and he looked at her. She gestured him over and he obliged as she held out the photo for him. He glanced down, a small smile crossing his face as he looked down at the photo of him and Bucky, both in their uniforms, laughing.  “Can you remember what you were laughing at?” she asked him.

“They had us doing this info documentary type thing, for the people back home.” He cleared his throat, taking the photo. “We were laughing at how utterly ridiculous and staged the whole thing was, like we would ever let press near our actual ops.”

Katie reached for the next photo and this one made her heart stop completely. Steve was on the left, looking at something that the man to his right was showing him on a screen. And that man needed no introduction.

“Dad…” she breathed out as Steve peered over her shoulder.

“He was a good man your father” Steve smiled as he thought of Howard “If a little… wild.”

“Wild? Dad?” She raised her eyebrow

“Yeah, he errr, liked to fondue…” Steve said, as he thought back to that conversation when he had thought fondue was some kind of innuendo for what Stark and Peggy got up to on their private time

“It’s just bread and cheese my friend…” Howard had said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Really? But I thought…“

"Well that’s your first mistake pal. The minute you think you know what’s going on a woman’s mind is the moment your goose is well and truly cooked…”

“Wow, melted cheese…what a rebel” Katie snorted sarcastically.

 “Well I thought it was…never mind,” he shrugged, absentmindedly turning over the compass in his hand and he opened it, glancing down at the photo inside for the first time in almost seventy years.

“Peggy?” Katie asked, looking down at the compass

“Yeah” he snapped it shut and then looked at her, deciding that the time was right. He wanted to take her to see Peggy. Not just because Peggy had asked him to, but because he wanted to. “Would you like to meet her?”

“Me?” Katie asked, surprise in her voice.

“Well yeah, you’re a big part of my life now and I know she’d love to see you again”

“I’d be honoured.” Katie replied, and she meant it. Peggy had been important to her father, and she was curious to meet the woman that had held her best friend’s heart. Steve beamed back at her, thrilled by her answer and as their eyes locked, he felt that warm feeling as the butterflies in his stomach woke up.

******

They sorted his belongings into three separate categories- things for the museum, some more stuff to take back to his apartment, and the remainder to go back to storage, before they headed over town to see Peggy. Giving Katie assurances he wouldn’t be long, Steve entered the room first, leaving Katie, who was feeling quite nervous, waiting outside.

She didn’t know where the nerves were coming from, after all she had met Peggy when she was a young child, but that was before she knew who she was. Back then she’d simply been a lady that worked with her daddy, and now she knew the truth.

Inside the room Steve quickly told Peggy where he had been and she smiled when he told her about the museum and the photos, quipping that she would quite like to see that when it was all open.

“That is if they ever let me out of this place. I swear breaking out of Alcatraz would be easier.”

He chuckled at her joke. “Well, today I brought someone to you so you don’t have to plan an escape just yet.”

The old woman instantly brightened up and beamed up at him. "Katie?”

Steve smiled at her excitement and nodded “Yeah.”

“Well don’t leave me waiting, again!” Peggy shooed him to the door and he stood up, opening it. Katie spun to face him, her hands wringing each other and he gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

“Come on.” He held the door open. Katie took a deep breath, quelling her nerves and stepped into the room, Steve’s hand gently falling to her back as he guided her over to a seat by the bed.

It was easy for Katie to see that Peggy Carter had been a good looking, powerful woman in her day. Her eyes were bright, hair set in bouncy curls and she had a sort of regal quality emanating from her. She shrewdly eyed the brunette, before she chuckled and looked at Steve.

“Good grief!” Peggy smiled, looking back at Katie “Forgive me my dear, but you really do have that Stark look about you, but an awful lot of your mother too.”

Katie relaxed instantly and smiled back. “So I’ve been told. It’s an honour to meet you ma’am, again. I’ve heard so much about you.” “Please, call me Peggy” she smiled reaching for her hand “And I’m so pleased to see you again, it’s been a long time.”

Katie smiled, taking Peggy’s hand as the old woman continued.

“Steve talks about you a lot.” Peggy smiled and Katie glanced up at Steve, raising an eyebrow as he inwardly groaned, taking a deep breath.

 “Peggy…” he warned, somewhat exasperatedly.

“What?” she asked innocently “I’m just saying…” she turned to look at Katie “Steve says you’ve been a good friend to him since he came out of the ice. I’m glad he’s had someone.” “He’s a good friend to me.” Katie replied, smiling “Keeps me on the straight and narrow.”

“You mean I try to.” Steve teased, and he saw Peggy smile as he was sure Katie was rolling her eyes “She’s a law unto herself this one Peg, not unlike you were!”

“He’s very sensible.” Peggy loudly whispered to Katie, before the old woman levelled Steve with a look, her eyes flashing mischievously. “But I want to know, Steven, why on earth haven’t you taken this gorgeous young lady dancing yet?”

Steve groaned and looked at Katie, feeling the heat rush up his neck and into his cheeks as he could do nothing but mouth the word sorry. Katie’s cheeks also flushed a shade of pink and he looked away as he replied, dodging the question.

 “I can’t dance…you know that.”

“Everyone can dance, they just need the right partner.” Peggy looked at him, eyes locking onto his meaningfully. He swallowed again and Katie instantly picked up on his discomfort, she wasn’t stupid, the dancing thing clearly meant something and unless she was mistaken Peggy was implying something to do with her. Katie took pity on him and decided to save him his embarrassment so she spoke, breaking the moment.

“Well I won’t be much of a teacher, I’ve got two left feet.” she said, casually causing Steve to smile slightly shooting her a side glance.

*****

Steve would be lying if he said he hadn’t been slightly worried about introducing the woman who had been his first love to the girl he was harbouring feelings for now, but he needn’t have worried. Katie had laughed and joked with the old woman, often at his expense but he hadn’t minded. In fact, he had enjoyed it.

But that’s what Katie did. She made people feel better, at ease, knew what to say and when to say it.

And he’d decided there and then, buoyed by how well the meeting had actually gone, he was going to ask her out on a date. Today had brought everything into focus for him. Peggy was right, he couldn’t move forward and take the second chance life had given him if he had one foot in the past, one eye over his shoulder, and one part of his brain constantly wondering about what could have been.

Katie, meanwhile was locked in her own thoughts. The meeting with Peggy had put her slightly on edge. Not because of the old woman, in fact it had been amazing to meet her, but something about Steve changed as they left the Nursing Home. It was almost as if he was putting up a guard. She told herself it was normal, he was bound to feel confused after visiting his old flame and the whole thing with the museum, but part of her couldn’t shake off the feeling he was hiding something, and she didn’t like it.

She wasn’t an idiot. Steve and her had grown closer over the last few months and she knew to many it would be considered more than what you would dub a normal platonic relationship. She also knew, however, that he had ghosts in his past unlike any she’d ever dealt with before, which was what was making this entire situation ridiculously complicated.

She was pleased to see, however, that as they neared his apartment he relaxed and suggested that watch a film. They were still discussing which one as they climbed the three flights to his apartment.

“No.” He immediately deadpanned when she suggested watching the remaining Saw ones before he rolled his eyes when he clocked her grin. He hated those films, and she knew it. “Why don’t we start Star Wars? We never did get round to it…”

“Providing you don’t start the debate about which episode we begin with because if so I’m not sure I can be bothered trying to explain it again…” “I just don’t understand why you don’t start with one.” he took the opportunity to tease her as he slid the key into his lock.

“Because you don’t.” She said exasperatedly and he smirked at how easy it was to rile her when it came to films. ”It ruins the surprise and plot lines. You go Episode Four, Five and Six, then we hit One, Two and Three….”

They both turned as his neighbour, Kate walked onto the landing, bag over her shoulder, clutching a pile of mail.

“Hi Steve.” She smiled, unlocking her door.

“Hi Kate.” He greeted her back before he turned to Katie, who he realised had never met the woman before “This is my neighbour. Kate this is,”

“Katie.” she extended her hand, smiling politely.

“Katie Stark, I recognised you…sorry.”

“It’s fine” she said, still smiling. There was a pause and the faint sound of a phone could be heard.

“Sorry… I gotta’ get that.” Kate said quickly making her way into her apartment. “Goodnight Steve.”

“Night Kate.” He said in response. When he turned back around Katie was waiting, smirking at him.

“You’re as bad as Natasha.” He rolled his eyes, closing the door behind them as she stood front of him, kicking off her shoes.

“What you mean?” She asked walking through the small cloak area and into the hall way, heading straight for the kitchen.

“She keeps trying to set me up on dates” he sighed watching as Katie pulled two beers from his fridge.

“Who with?” Katie asked, frowning slightly, and she felt her neck and ears growing warm as the green eyed monster stirred.

“Pretty much anyone she can.” He snorted as they walked back into the living area.

“And none of them are…” She pressed, and he sighed.

“No.”

“Can I ask you something?” Katie sat next to him.

“If I say no are you gonna ask me anyway?” He looked at her. “Yeah.” She said after a pause. He snorted and gestured for her to go ahead.

“Peggy and you…how far did you actually get…I mean…”

Oh Jesus…

He contemplated brushing this one off, but then he realised he couldn’t lie to her, and he didn’t want to.

“We were supposed to go dancing.” He said gently, turning to face her, his right hand curling over the back of the sofa and she immediately understood then what that moment in the Nursing Home had been about. “Like on a date. I’d never been before, never found me the right person. And then I ended up in the ice before we got the chance.” He paused shook his head, “I know it’s dumb but…”

“It’s not Steve.”  Katie replied, and at that she felt the tears prick her eyes. The emotion of the day completely overwhelming her. This man, this wonderful man had been denied the opportunity to live his life how he should. Robbed of his best friend, his love and all because he’d done what he could to keep people safe, serve his country.

“Hey.” He frowed as he noticed she was getting upset. “What is it? What’s wrong, Doll?”

“I hate that all that happened to you.” she shook her head softly. “That you never got chance to do all those things, that you never got your dance or your happily ever after. You deserve more.”

“Katie.” he sighed, gently wiping away a tear that fell down her face with his thumb. “Taking that plane down was my choice. Don’t cry over it, please. I hate seeing you upset.”

And he did. Her face was made for smiles, her eyes should be happy and shining, not full of tears. “Sorry.” She dipped her head, and then, before he could stop himself, Steve reached out gently and his finger tilted her face back up to look at him.

Ocean blue met emerald green, and Steve felt his insides coil tightly like a spring as Katie’s eyes bounced across both of his, the distance between them growing shorter, and shorter…

And then there was a knock on the door. Steve closed his eyes, let out a sigh and unfolded himself off the couch. Cursing internally all the way to the door, Steve wrenched it open a little harshly and took a deep breath at the blonde at the other side.

“Sorry to interrupt…” Kate said, handing him a letter “But this was in the pile of mail I got before.”

“Oh, thanks…”

“Enjoy your film.” Kate smiled and Steve nodded. “Have a good evening.”

The door clicked shut and Steve turned and headed past the doorway to the lounge and into kitchen, dropping the bill on the side. He rest his hands, palms flat on the cool surface of the kitchen counter, hanging his head slightly and taking a deep breath. He was in deep.

“I’m gonna head home.” Katie spoke and he turned to look at her, his face falling. He didn’t want her to go. But instead of telling her that he merely nodded.

“Okay.”

Without another word she turned and left, leaving Steve stood alone in his flat, rooted to the spot, disappointment an anger lancing through his body like red hot pokers.

Outside the rain had started again, so Katie didn’t waste any time in getting to her car. She’d wanted nothing more than for Steve to ask her to stay, to prove to her that he wasn’t merely swept up in the emotion of the day, but he hadn’t. Which was all the answer to her unasked question she needed. They both had baggage, she knew that, but Steve Rogers came with an entire fucking suitcase.

She managed to start the engine before she felt the tears spring forth. Slamming her head against the head rest in frustration she wiped at her face.

She was in deep, and she had no idea what she was doing to do about it.

***** Chapter 4

**Original Posting**

[jumukus]

A3! Event: Trump the Phantom Thief Episode 8 Translation

Play time! A heads up on the characters' names:

Muku: King Yuki: Q Kazunari: Ace Juza: Jack Banri: Fox Sakyo: Club

Saionji: Muku-kun, how are you doing? Are you getting seasick?

Muku: I'm doing alright, thank you. Oh, and the room is so beautiful.

Saionji: I am glad it is to your liking. We purposely built the suite rooms in a place where you can't feel the ship's motion.

I am planning to take every possible measure for the theater venue as well, though do not hesitate to let me know if you are unsatisfied with anything.

Muku: I will. Thank you.

Kazunari: Dude, not only the suite rooms are superbs, but to think we also get a whole staff to ourselves…! We can even get the beverages here as many times we like!

Yuki: True. The service is just so good it surprised me.

Sakyo: Don't get too engrossed in these service or you'll be havin' a hard time once we return to Mankai Company.

Izumi: You have a point…

Banri: I don't wanna go back.

Juza: ...I'm thirsty.

Muku: Wanna get some beverages in our rooms?

Juza: No, it's fine. Our rooms are far from here.

Azami: There's a lot of vending machines there. I think they have your favorite strawberry milk.

Juza: I'll go get it.

Muku: …

Izumi: (Today is finally our opening show. I knew it. They all seem pretty nervous because we're going to perform in a different venue.)

Juza: …

Izumi: (Juza-kun looks stiff.)

Kazunari: OK, guys! We've gotta form a circle in times like this!

Banri: Be more specific. What d'you mean by "in times like this"?

Yuki: Bet you already thought of what kind of circle you wanna do.

Kazunari: Righty right! Since our play is about phantom thieves, we all should strike a phantom thief pose!

Sakyo: The heck is that?

Kazunari: No complaining! Just follow me!

Yuki: Fine. Fine.

Juza: ...Muku, do the chant.

Muku: First things first, I'm sorry for causing you guys troubles when I was at a loss of what to do.

I don't want to give up on all the things I want to do. I've decided to do everything I can in all of them.

I'll run through until the end. Follow me, guys!

Juza: Yeah!

Kazunari: Okie!

Banri: Yea.

Q: "It's as musty as always."

Ace: "Clean it up."

Q: "How about you do it?"

Ace: "No way. Geez. This place used to be clean, wonder what happened to it."

Q: "That's because we had a clean-freak before."

Ace: "Okay. Leader, you do the cleaning."

King: "I think it's pretty clean, though."

Q: "Seriously?"

Ace: "Should've known a messy room owner like Leader would say something like that."

Q: "Anyway. Since this is the first time we gathered here after a year, that means you've already set our next target, right? Let's cut to the chase already."

King: "Our next target will be "Mermaid's Tears", a 12-carat diamond."

"It's going to be sold during an auction held at the Royal Star cruise. It's one of the event's highlights and expected to sell for 6 billion."

Ace: "Woo-hoo."

Q: "Heh. Interesting."

King: "Royal Star is currently hiring staff. Q."

Q: "Got it. That means I have to sneak in as one of their staff members, right?"

King: "Ace, get close to the ship's captain and collect information."

Ace: "Roger."

Izumi: (I expect no less from Summer Troupe. They have great teamwork. I can totally feel it.)

(Not to mention Muku-kun's King is able to unite them as a leader.)

Q: "I'm in charge of the rooms in Block A… Laundry and… Ugh. What a hassle."

"This isn't my job in the first place, after all. If that person were here--."

Crew Member: "Are you new here? You seem lost."

Q: "Yes. I don't think I can get out of this place if I lose the map."

Crew Member: "You can ask anyone if there's anything you don't understand."

Q: "Thank you."

"?"

Crew Member: "What's wrong?"

Q: "I think I saw someone over there--."

Crew Member: "But there's only a garbage can over there. Is it a ghost or something?"

Q: "Hey. Stop. I don't like it."

"Hm? A letter?"

"Could this be--I have to report to King."

King: "I'll take the Mermaid's Tears--Jack."

Ace: "Can't believe he's aiming for the same thing."

Q: "Him and King sure are compatible in a strange way."

Ace: "Even though their personalities are the exact opposite of each other."

Q: "What are we going to do now?"

Ace: "Guess we're gonna have a change of pla--."

King: "We'll continue the operation."

Q: "Come again!?"

Ace: "So you mean we're gonna compete with Jack?"

King: "I will not send out this notice. Let's call it a direct confrontation between Trump and Jack."

Q: "Whaaaat!?"

Jack: "Weird. The cops aren't on the move."

"Hm? Where's my noti--."

"It's been a while. How about a reunion? At The Mermaid's Tears' chamber. Trump."

"King, huh… It's just so like him to do something like this. Fine. Let's have a showdown."

Fox: "Here. I got what you wanted, the Royal Star's blueprint."

King: "It is indeed the blueprint."

Fox: "I got you some addition as well. This one is a lil bit pricey."

King: "Figured as much."

Fox: "What are you going to do with this information, though?"

King: "It's prohibited to poke your nose into your client's private life."

Fox: "Oops. My bad. I was curious since you rarely asked for something like this. Oh, yeah. Your master said he wanted to see you."

King: "Club? I wonder why. I'll try contacting him."

Club: "I'm comin' in."

Fox: "Speak of the devil."

King: "Long time no see."

Club: "Perfect timing. Are you free now?"

***

Club: "I'm goin' to retire soon. Take whatever you need."

King: "Retire? Are you serious?"

Club: "My body is startin' to fall apart. It's an age thing. Tell this to Ja--Oh, right. I heard you two broke up."

King: "You made it sound like we're dating. Please don't do that. He just decided to quit my group on his own."

Club: "Y'all never change. Here I thought you'd keep workin' together. That's what you call youth, I guess."

King: "To be honest with you, I'd also never thought he would betray me."

Club: "Looking at that guy, I think he's in his rebellious phase rather than betrayal."

King: "Rebellious phase?"

Club: "He's got some strong sense of rivalry, y'know? Add that with the fact that he's never won against you."

"He must be jealous of you. You're a genius, while he can only do things in a crude way."

King: "Really? I like his way of doing things, though."

Club: "That's exactly why you're hated. Oh, well. You better make up before I die."

King: "Please tell that to him too. You're going to meet him after this anyway, right?"

Club: "You're right. Guess I'm also gonna tell him directly. Both of you are my most excellent apprentices, after all."

King: "Please take this as my present for your retirement. This one is 40 years old."

Club: "You sure are well prepared."

King: "I was actually planning to use it for the celebration party, though."

"--Oh, right. If you're going to retire, please give me that. You know, the 'Venus Ring'."

Club: "I refuse."

***

Fox: "Welcome. Man, I guess we've got a lot of 'speak of the devil' moment today."

Jack: "What are you saying?"

Fox: "Nope. Forget it. Anyway, this is your requested uniform and safe."

Jack: "Thanks."

Fox: "Oh, yea. Your master said he wanted to see you. Why don't you give him a call?"

***

Jack: "Long time no see."

Club: "Hey. Is it just me or did you lose some weight?"

Jack: "What do you want to talk about?"

Club: "I'm gonna retire soon. Take whatever you need."

Jack: "Whatever you need, huh. By the way, the 'Venus Ring'..."

Club: "Y'all really have the same taste. I ain't gonna give it out. I sent it to the right place."

Jack: "By y'all… Do you mean King?"

Club: "You should just go back and regroup with him."

Jack: "I'll never go back until I win against him."

Club: "What a pig-headed kid. So? You see any chance to accomplish that?"

Jack: "I have a feeling we're finally going to settle this soon."

Club: "Heh. You seem confident."

Jack: "Because I've made arrangements ahead of time."

Club: "That's so you. You still look as gloomy as ever, though. Why don't you go soaking up the sun in some warm places in the south once in a while?"

Jack: "No--But you have a point. Maybe I'll do that once this is over."

Club: "Do that. And make up with King."

Jack: "...It depends on him."

Guard A: "Wait there."

Guard B: "This place is restricted to authorized personnel."

***

Q: "'Mermaid's Tears' has been carried away."

King: "Got it. Looks like they put it at the expected place."

Q: "How about the security? Can you unlock it?"

King: "I've already made preparation for that. We just need to see how things will turn out."

Ace: "Hey, wait a sec. Please, King."

King: "Find out the schedule for the guards' lookout."

Q: "Ugh. What a pain. Why do I have to do this…"

***

Q: "The guard will change at 1 P.M. The key will only be handed over when a substitute comes."

King: "So we need that key and the password that the captain has to unlock the door."

Q: "Ace, gain some time for us."

Ace: "Roger. Leave it to me."

Q: "Don't screw up."

***

Ace: "Hey, good work."

Guard A: "You're here sooner than I thought."

Ace: "Boss said my shift would start 30 minutes earlier since I'm always late, you see. Today I got here on time, though."

"Oh. Don't tell me you're gonna get scolded if you end your shift early? Wanna have some chat for thirty minutes then? Man, being a guard sure is easy."

"I actually want to increase my shift more, you know. But I don't reall--."

Guard A: "No, it's fine. I'll end my shift now. Bye."

Ace: "Oh. Okay, then. Bye."

***

Ace: "Mission complete. It's your turn now, King."

King: "Let's see, now. This is unexpectedy such a hassle~."

Ace: "I'm glad you seem to be having fun but please hurry up."

***

Q: "It's almost been thirty minutes."

King: "Just a little bit more…"

Q: "The guard is coming."

King: "I'm counting on you, Ace."

***

Ace: "Hey.."

Guard B: "Hm?"

Ace: "Ouch ouch ouch…"

Guard B: "What's wrong?"

Ace: "Oh, are you the substitute? Thank God. I'm starting to panic since my stomach is killing me. Good bye!"

Guard B: "Hey, wait, the key--."

Ace: "Key? Oh, right. I've gotta hand it ove--ouch ouch ouch."

Guard B: "Hey, you okay?"

Ace: "Wait a minute. Just until I calm down. Ouch ouch ouch…"

Guard B: "F-For now, just go to the toilet first."

Ace: "Don't think that's possible. I feel like it's gonna come out once I move."

Guard B: "Whaaat!?"

Ace: "Do you have some medicine or anything?"

Guard B: "No, sorry…"

Ace: "Can you bring me one from the infirmary? I'm on the edge here."

Guard B: "O-Okay! Wait a little bit!"

Ace: "King, you better open it now."

***

King: "...Weird. We may not make it."

Ace: "Come again!?"

King: "Oh, I got it. This one."

"...Nice. It opens!"

"Q, carry it out. Let's retreat."

Q: "Got it."

***

Guard B: "Hey, I have the medicine!"

Ace: "Very thanks, man. Here, your key! I'll leave the rest to you."

Guard B: "Yeah. Hope you recover soon."

King: "...This is weird. Jack didn't come in the end."

Q: "Maybe he realized it's impossible to go against phantom thieves."

King: "No. That guy…"

Police: "Freeze! We're police!"

King: "--."

Q: "!?"

Ace: "Since when!?"

King: "We're being set up. Q, throw the 'Mermaid's Tears' to the sea."

Q: "Huh!? Do you hear yourself now!?"

King: "Do it now. We'll escape the moment the police look away."

Ace: "You're lying, right!?"

King: "Quick."

Q: "You're the one who told me to do it, alright!"

Police: "H-Hey! The jewel! Pick it up, quick!"

King: "Let's go!"

Police: "Wait!"

Q: "What do we do now!? All of our hardship went to waste!"

Ace: "Our 6 billion…"

King: "That was a fake jewel Jack had prepared."

Q: "What?"

King: "Jack had stolen 'Mermaid's Tears' in advance and replaced it with a fake one."

"He was the one who snitched on us."

***

Narration: "The day before…"

Guard A: "Hey, what's wrong?"

Jack: "No, it's just… the engine…"

Guard A: "Hold on, hold on. If there's any trouble, you better do something about it or else it'll get worse later on. If we're liable for the damages…"

Jack: "There's smoke coming out!"

Guard A: "Say what!?"

Jack: "Stay away from the car!"

Guard B: "Whoa!"

Guard A: "C-Call the fire station! Wait, we gotta get the safe first!"

Guard B: "Hey, is it okay?"

Jack: "Yeah. The smoke disappeared. I found no issues with the machine too."

Guard A: "That means the safe is alright, yeah? God. Give me a break. We almost carry it away ahead of time."

***

Q: "So that's why Jack didn't show up…"

Ace: "He really got us! I already thought it was weird for the police to appear at times like that!"

Q: "Ugh. Even if the police didn't appear, Jack still won since he already got the 'Mermaid's Tears' before us."

King: "I wonder about that."

***

King: "He hasn't made any changes in his base. Well, isn't he a little careless…"

"Even his security system is so weak."

"Hm? A card?"

"'Out of respect of Master's retirement, I will hand over the victory.'"

"Don't be satisfied with second place. You could have taken measures if you know there's a chance it'll get stolen. Oh, well. I'll accept your kind offer…"

***

Jack: "..."

"He really came…"

King: "Hey."

Jack: "--ugh. Why are you still here, King?"

King: "It's been a long time, I want to renew our friendship. I even brought alcohol with me."

Jack: "This is why you're hated."

King: "But you don't hate me, do you?"

Jack: "How did you find out?"

King: "I got some information about you from Fox. It helped me understand your strategy to some extent."

Jack: "In that case, why did you fall into the trap?"

King: "Because, otherwise, you won't move forward as planned. I'll be troubled if you're on your guard."

"I could narrow down your base thanks to the location device I planned on the alcohol I gave to Club. The rest is my intuition."

Jack: "I can never bring myself to like you in the end."

King: "Now, now. Let's have a toast for the 'Mermaid's Tears'. Q and Ace are waiting."

Izumi: (This is the only scene where Jack and King talk face to face. Even so, you can tell how close they are just by watching this scene alone.)

(Maybe because they are cousins, they can create a unique relationship between rivals who understand each other the most.)

***

Muku: Thank you so much!

Juza: Thank you.

Sakyo: Thank you.

Yuki: Thank you.

Kazunari: Thankies thankies~!

Banri: Thank you.

***

Sakyo: The audience's reaction on our first show is great.

Juza: King was so cool.

Muku: Jack was even cooler! The fact that he's active behind the scenes is just so Juchan!

Juza: I can also feel the gap between King, a sharp person with a gentle look, and you, Muku.

Muku: I-Is that so? Ehehe. But your Jack…

Azami: They're going to be like that forever at this rate.

Yuki: When are you going to stop?

Banri: But well, it was good overall. Right?

Kazunari: Totally! Their chemistry was just perfect on the stage, even the audience was pleased!

Izumi: Let's keep this energy until the closing show!

Muku: Yes!

< Episode 7 | Masterlist | Episode 9 >