#a thousand years of jail for goemon

[therealraewest]

Because he's my favorite and I'm Excited I watched the goemon trailer frame-by frame and

Goemon vs Sherlock Holmes??? Cool cool cool

BUT ALSO

SHERLOCK SHOVES ZANTETSUKEN WITH HIS CANE??? TO THROW OFF/DEFLECT GOEMON'S SWING???

No wonder Goemon looks/sounds so angry in the trailer he gon be PISSED

[stealinghero]

May i get a story with zenigata spending time with his family and celebrating his one year old daughter birthday, during the celebration lupin and the gang comes by with gifts but zenigata goes to arrest him but his s/o stops him and tells him that lupin is her brother and he wanted to meet his niece

X3 This was so cute!!! And it had all of them in it! ^___^ Now I am happy.

“Look here, Yumiko!”

A light flashed and the proud father took a look on the photo of his daughter. “Isn’t she pretty?” he fawned over her.

“She has got your pretty eyes.”

The man blushed a bit, making you laugh about his silliness. You were married, had a beautiful and healthy baby girl and still he blushed from the smallest compliments.

“Isn’t it time for the cake?”

You were looking at your wrist watch. He had promised to come.

“Just wait a bit, her uncle isn’t here yet,” you told Zenigata with an apologetic smile. He always was working and hadn’t been able to meet his niece until now. Well, maybe he would miss his niece’s first birthday party, too. Even after the birth he had promised to come around, but instead you had gotten a message wishing you all the best and an apology that he couldn’t come because of work.

“I am curious about your brother, to be honest. Do you really think he will show up?” Zenigata knew about this problem, having never met your brother until now. On your wedding his place of honour was empty. At least you had gotten a present from him, a small private island fully yours to use. Now you just needed the free time to do so.

“He’s a busy man, Koichi,” you tried to defend him.

“He’s missing everything important in your life.”

“He’s still my brother.”

“Can money buy you happiness?”

You huffed. You had had this discussion for countless times. And you knew Zenigata was right in the end. Your brother did send you money or gifts on a regular basis, but you never got a call or even a visit.

“He will come!” You wanted to believe it.

“I’m bringing her to bed. Wait how long you want. He won’t show up,” his words were a bit annoyed, leaving a small threat what would happen if your brother should show up this time.

 With the small one sleeping her midday nap, you had time to prepare the cake and the pile of gifts when you wondered why your brother hadn’t sent a present. Maybe he really wanted to come?

Shaking your head at those wishful thinking, you went back to set the table for your small family.

The ringing of the doorbell was a shock and left you so surprised it was Zenigata who got to the door first, opening it, expecting a neighbour or something to congratulate the birthday girl.

“You.”

His reaction made you uneasy and you hurried to the door to see who or what had shocked him like that.

“Hey, Pops.”

That was your brother’s voice! You pushed your husband a bit to the side to finally see your family again.

“Lupin! You are arrested!!” Zenigata grabbed the collar of your brother, pulling him closer with a snarl.

“Lupin?!” You had heard the name a thousand times. The thief was the target of your husband and he had gotten away too many times. Why did your brother… no, wait. Why did your husband… what?!

A gun was directed at him and you shrieked in terror, fearing for your life.

“Jigen, don’t. Pops, listen!”

“I won’t listen to any lies you will tell me!”

Although the gun was lowered at the command of your brother, the gunman still stared at your husband who was standing in front of you to protect you.

“Please, just listen,” your brother pleaded him.

What was happening?!

A high pitched wail was heard when your daughter awoke and wanted attention. Zenigata’s head turned around for an instant, making him careless.

Your brother always had been a fast man, but this was too good for him to be nothing more than an investor! He had slapped Zenigata’s hand away, turned his wrist a bit and made him go to his knees.

“I am here to see my family and you stubborn old man won’t stop me, got it?!”

Shocked, you were unable to do anything.

Releasing him, your brother went past you inside your house and went straight to the bedroom of your daughter where you could hear him coo instantly.

“Jigen, Goemon. Look.”

He had your daughter in his arms and was completely changed. Carefully holding the small human he showed her to his two friends.

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” he asked in a hushed tone, gently swaying her in his arms.

“Want to tell me something?” You had helped Zenigata back on his feet and were now watching your brother with his niece, holding your husband back with an iron grip on his arm.

“I should’ve told you before, right? But you were so happy and I couldn’t tell you anything.” With sure steps your brother went into the kitchen, looking for milk for his niece.

“Tell me this isn’t your brother.” Zenigata’s voice was ice.

“Where’s her milk? Is she drinking milk? Or water?” Lupin turned around and looked at you, grinning. “Or Whiskey?”

You followed him into the kitchen, showing him the milk, eying the other two, before going back to your husband who still stood in the hall, seething.

“Don’t touch me now,” he asked of you when you wanted to hug him.

“I didn’t know, Koichi.”

“You tell me you didn’t know your brother is a criminal?! And what’s more he’s the thief I have to arrest?!” He had been shouting at you. He never had done this before. You stepped back from him.

“Shout at her again and I will kill you.” Your brother still held your daughter, a nice picture, but his eyes told you this wasn’t an empty threat.

“Maybe you should explain yourself first, Lupin. It seems she doesn’t know about anything.” The shorter of the two friends had heated up the milk bottle and was now testing the warmth of the milk without flinching over the fight. He took your daughter carefully and began to feed her, walking out of the kitchen, settling in the living room with her.

Your brother let all this happen and then let out a heavy sigh.

“Zenigata, please. Let me explain. Jigen is right.”

His moves were automated as he went into the living room, followed by his other friend and you with your husband who had taken your hand into his.

After sitting down you eyed your brother. Who was he?!

“My name… well, it’s enough if my sister knows it. And it’s not Lupin. Not really at least.”

“I don’t care.” Zenigata still was angry at him.

“We were raised differently. She was sent to a boarding school for young women. And I…,” here he turned to face you. “I was raised to be a thief.”

You nodded. You knew the family history well enough. But why hadn’t he told you before?!

“I never wanted you to get in this mess I was in. I could never bear the burden of endangering you,” he admitted, scratching his neck in a sheepish manner.

“You told me you were an investor!” you said, wanting the truth. He had lied to you just to protect you? Your husband laughed mirthlessly.

“Investor. Sure.”

“I didn’t want you to be… I wanted you to be proud of me.”

You had always hated the family tradition of thievery. It was a crime and no reason could convince you otherwise. And so you had been proud indeed. Your brother had turned his back on the family history and had become a successful banker and investor! That’s why he had all this money and all those gifts for you.

“Did you ever steal a present for me?” That’s what interested you the most.

“No.”

“But you paid for it with stolen money,” Zenigata spat.

“How should I do it differently?!”

“Work?!”

“This is my work!”

With a side-glance you were watching his two friends peacefully sitting with a distance to you three, feeding your daughter and making her laugh with silly faces. At least this was okay while the rest of your life turned out to be a lie.

“How did you think this would end?” You already knew the answer to your own question. He hadn’t thought about it.

“I wanted to tell you so many times. But it just never was the right moment. And when you wrote about your marriage I was so happy,” he seemed honest. But he also had seemed honest telling you about his career in the financial world.

“When I read the name of your husband I was… scared.”

“If you had shown up I would’ve arrested you on the spot!” Zenigata had calmed down a bit but you could still see his tensed muscles, ready to attack your brother.

“I know. And that’s why I didn’t come. Even when I learned about her.” Lupin looked to the side at the laughing trio.

“She has your nose,” you told him.

“Yeah, the family nose. But she has your husband’s eyes, right?” he shied away from looking at the other man keeping his eyes on you or on his niece.

“What made you come today?” You watched your husband surprised as he was getting up and went into the kitchen, signalling Lupin to follow him.

“I was around.”

“You’re a pretty bad liar.”

You heard the sound of the fridge, plastic crackling.

“I had to see her with my own eyes. She’s family after all.”

“You made your sister cry.”

Two bottles were opened.

“I feel bad enough about it, believe me.”

“Next time I will arrest you.”

The bottles clanked together and you could see the two drinking beer. At least they didn’t want to kill each other for now.

 He had introduced his friends and you had to laugh, when Jigen didn’t really want to let your daughter go as your husband brought out the cake for celebration.

“We brought presents,” Goemon told you, making you look around.

“They’re outside. He’s an idiot,” Jigen added with a look to your brother who was grinning broadly.

“I might have overdone it,” he admitted before getting up and going outside to get the presents out of the car.

He had gifted you half of Yumiko’s room interior! What had he done now?

“Can someone please help me?!” you heard him ask from outside but nobody made a move.

“Really?!”

Huffing and sweating he pushed the pile of presents into the house, pouting when your husband started to laugh.

“That’s honest work! Get used to it, you will do it a lot in jail,” he threatened with a grin.

“If you can catch me, Pops!”

“Lupin! I will arrest you!”

You shared a look with Goemon and Jigen. They nodded as if to say this was going to happen a lot from now on.

[crowsent]

Whumptober 2019 Tear-Stained

Yusuke Kitagawa, Persona 5, Tear-Stained

CW: mention of suicide but if you played the game, you know whats up

note: Akira’s an idiot and only told Futaba, Morgana, and Makoto of his plan and told them NOT to tell anyone else. or. you could interpret this as an AU where they don’t realise that they were betrayed

=

Everything happened too fast.

The enemy readings from Futaba. Being forced to separate. Watching Akira get swarmed. Watching Akira get arrested. Having to be dragged away by Ryuji to keep himself from leaping down and trying to do... something. They were still in the Metaverse, Yusuke could have summoned Goemon, cut through the police, freeze them. Something.

Yusuke could have done something.

Their return to the real world wasn’t as triumphant as they expected.

Makoto desperately tried to keep order. “Act normal. We’re going to figure things out but in the meantime, we have to act like everything’s okay. Like nothing is wrong. It’s going to throw suspicion off of us and give us a better chance at rescuing Akira. Okay?”

Everyone had agreed.

Yusuke had agreed.

Everything was going to be fine.

Yusuke was going to head straight to the hideout as soon as school finished. He would help plan with Makoto. He would storm in there if he had to and drag Akira out.

The day passed by in a blur.

Yusuke was out of it.

Numerous teachers expressed concern over the blank, glassy look in his eyes. Several of his classmates took it as the perfect opportunity to approach him. Yusuke lost track of girls from his year trying to talk to him about the “haunted” look in his eyes.

What a ridiculous notion.

Yusuke was not “haunted” by anything. It’s not as if Akira was in jail, alone, without anyone to help him. It’s not as if Yusuke had to watch the most important person in his life get dragged away while he was powerless to stop it. It’s not as if Yusuke felt as though someone tore through his fucking chest and left him hollow inside.

It’s fine.

Akira will be fine.

He has to be.

Kosei’s art room would have been the perfect place to distract him until school ends. Yusuke had good fluorescent lights hanging over him, and good natural light from the windows letting sunlight stream through. The scent of paint, of ink, of oil permeated the air and Yusuke should have felt right at home.

But his canvas was empty.

There was a bird, near the edge of the canvas, a simple black shape on a horizon of nothingness. Yusuke had an idea somewhere in the back of his mind but…

After everything, after the Casino, he just...couldn’t bring himself to paint anything.

Every time he tried to think of something, every time he tried to pick up his brush, every time he hovered colour over his canvas, he thought of Akira. He thought of Akira patiently, summoning persona after persona in Mementos just so Yusuke could sketch them out. He thought of Akira who packed Yusuke homemade curry so Yusuke didn’t have to go without dinner. He thought of Akira smiling at him in the Ueno Museum, full of pride and joy when Yusuke won Kawanabe’s art competition.

Painting, Yusuke realised, had now become intrinsically linked to Akira. When Yusuke wanted to paint a landscape, he thought of Akira rowing them across the lake in Inokashira Park. When Yusuke wanted to paint something traditional, he remembered Akira showing bringing him to Book Town and pointing out interesting tomes with old Japanese art. When he wanted to paint entire galaxies, he thought of the Planetarium in Ikebukuro and how Yusuke ended up not paying attention to the stars at all.

Also the young man continues to remain silent, refusing to implicate any potential accomplices, however, considering the number of charges brought against him…

Yusuke listened attentively, brush held loosely in one hand, arms resting on his thighs and his entire being focused on the words coming from the newscaster. About Akira. About how he continued to protect them despite being under interrogation and threat of heavy punishment.

Yusuke felt numb. He felt like laughing, if only to take away the heavy tar-like feeling holding him down.

“You seem stumped for once…” His teacher approached, peering at his empty canvas, at his unmoving hand. Before, before Akira was taken, Yusuke’s hands moved like starlight twinkling in the sky, like a leaf bobbing on a lake, like the beat of Arsene’s wings. Yusuke painted hearts and worlds and raw emotion.

And he can’t even so much as lift his brush.

He couldn’t even listen to his teacher. Yusuke registered the noise. Yusuke registered his teacher’s mouth moving. Yusuke registered the words but he heard nothing. He can’t remember his teacher’s name. He can’t remember any of his classmate’s names. He can’t remember anything except the way Akira was knocked off that ladder and swarmed by police as though they were rabid sharks.

Normal. Right.

As if Yusuke could proceed as normal.

Still. He had to try. Akira would have wanted him to try. Yusuke picked up his palette and brush and stared once more at his sheet-white canvas.

Yusuke didn’t want to paint anything. But Akira always did love his paintings. Yusuke should finish one just so Akira could look at it when he gets out. When. When he gets out.

A deep breath. Yusuke was shaking. The urge to laugh was there, bubbling in the back of his throat. Yusuke laughed when Madarame was accused of plagiarism. Yusuke laughed when he learned of his mother’s tragic fate. Yusuke laughed because he didn’t want to cry.

And he refused to cry.

Because Akira will make it out.

Surely.

Yusuke wanted to laugh.

Instead, he dabbed the tip of his brush until it turned a navy blue. Like the night sky. Akira once told him that he missed the country if only for the stars, for the darkness of the heavens that allowed twinkling diamonds to shine. Yusuke would try to emulate that. He’d never been to the country, never been to a place where the sky wasn’t blotted out by the lights of a thousand different establishments fighting for control or the honking of speeding cars or glimmer of streetlights.

Yusuke painted over the bird, painted the top half of his canvas with that dark night sky blue. Then he added black around the edges, smudged in faint clouds, added glittering stars that couldn’t be found in Tokyo. The way Akira described them. Bright, blinding jewels hung in the sky that shone bright enough that he could navigate the streets without light.

Akira described a floodplain in his hometown, with a river where people often fished. Akira described rice fields that stretched past the horizon. Akira described cats lingering the streets with glowing eyes that he always ended up feeding.

Yusuke found himself smiling.

Miles away, locked in a cell and isolated, and somehow, someway, Akira still managed to make him smile.

We have breaking news.

The other students were at it again, clustered on their phones. Well, Yusuke didn’t expect anything less. Their teacher went to the bathroom so it was obvious that

The young man being held in custody has committed suicide.

Yusuke stopped breathing.

He shot up from his seat, his palette and brush dropping to the ground. His vision swam, the entire room tilted, Yusuke’s entire world shattered. Distantly, he heard his chair fall to the ground, his canvas knocked down, falling paint-first onto the floor. Yusuke didn’t care. Yusuke couldn’t hear anything. The only thing that felt real in the world was the news reporter, slowly killing Yusuke’s soul bit by bit with every word.

The police have confirmed his death.

Yusuke refused to believe it. Not Akira. Not him. Why him.

To repeat, the suspect has committed suicide while in custody.

“Kitagawa-kun?” One of the girls asked. She wore glasses (not like his) had black hair (not as black as his) and kind eyes (not as kind as his) and Yusuke broke.

Before she could even take a step towards him, Kitagawa sped out of the room.

He threw open the door just as his teacher was coming in, nearly shoved him out of the way, shoved everyone out of his way as he sprinted down the hallway to the nearest bathroom.

The dazzling orange sunset lost its luster. The verdant leaves on every tree withered. The flamboyant flowers in the courtyard all wilted.

The stars, Yusuke was sure, the stars that he would have liked to see, the stars he was sure would have shone brightly, died.

One by one.

One for every tear that ran down Yusuke’s face.

One for every broken sob that tore out of his throat.

One for every smile he would never see again.

The bathroom was empty when Yusuke got in. He picked a stall, slammed it shut, locked the door, and wept.

Yusuke wanted to give him Desire and Hope. Wanted to make his life brighter in some way, any way that he can. Yusuke swore that he would be there should Akira stumble, should Akira ever need his help.

Yusuke wanted to show Akira the Meguro River so Akira could have a little taste of home. Yusuke wanted to take Akira to Yanesen, so he could interact with all the stray cats wandering there. Yusuke wanted to see the stars with him.

Yusuke wanted more time.

Yusuke wanted.

Yusuke wanted more than he’s ever wanted in his life. He finally had a chance to be happy. After everything. After Madarame. After being lost, adrift, a sheep with no pasture to come back to. A man wandering in the dark. Akira gave him light. Akira gave him hope. Akira gave him a place to belong.

It was only now that Yusuke was finally willing to accept the fact that he deserves to be happy. He didn’t need to suffer for his art. He didn’t need to bury himself in doubt and pain and starve himself like he was taught to do.

Akira taught him that Yusuke deserved to be happy.

Yusuke deserved to be fucking happy.

So why.

After everything he’s been through, after everything that he’s lost.

Why Akira?

Why take away the only FUCKING thing Yusuke cared about more than art?

Why.

Fucking WHY!?

Yusuke cried, curling himself into a tight ball, desperately wishing for things to change. For Akira to never have been caught. For Yusuke to never have gotten so close. For them to have never met at all.

Yusuke’s uniform was wet with tears. No matter how many times he tried to wipe them away, he can’t stop crying.

If Yusuke never met him. If Yusuke never met the one person he wanted to smile more than anything, the one person who taught him that it was alright for him to live, to love, to try and be happy, if Yusuke never fucking met the single most astonishing, compassionate, understanding human being then

Then he wouldn’t have a hole where his heart should be. He wouldn’t be howling in pain in a school bathroom, crying his eyes out, digging his nails into his arms hard enough to draw blood. The pain was nothing compared to the burning, hollow feeling inside of him; like Yusuke was set alight, like coals were stitched under his flesh, like the devastating echo of loss didn’t ring in his ears.

Yusuke should never have met him. Yusuke should have stayed with Madarame and languished forever. He should have worked himself to death instead. If the Phantom Thieves never targeted Madarame, if they never saved him, they would never have gained fame. They would never have gotten the attention of such dangerous people. Akira would never have been put into such a precarious situation.

He would have lived.

Yusuke would give a thousand lives so Akira could live. Yusuke would die over and over again. Yusuke would choose to rot in hell for all eternity. Yusuke would choose to stay by Madarame’s side, shackled, forced to paint and paint until his body gave out, if Akira could only live.

Yusuke would switch places with Akira in a heartbeat.

Akira should have lived.

Akira should have spent his days getting homeruns in the batting cages of Leblanc. He should have gone to the movies with a wide-eyed look on his face every time he saw explosions on screen. He should have lived to see the stars again.

Why him.

Why?

It isn’t fair.

Why wasn’t it me? It should have been me.

In every lifetime, Yusuke would always choose Akira’s life over his own.

He should have done something.

The young man being held in custody has committed suicide.

It should have been me.

Yusuke can’t stop crying.