ASK + ART REQUESTS OPEN! . You can call me DMM. I use any pronouns so no need to worry about offending me. . Iām not really active now. i post art sometimes so hope you enjoy that
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
sorry if you've gotten this before but I wanted to ask since I haven't seen anyone talking about it
in your mermay au:
is akechi a human hybrid because Mamakechi was a mermaid and Shido was a human who forced himself on her, and that's why akechi hates humans because his father's the only human he knows?
(I thought I was so smart writing this and it was probably entirely obvious to everyone else šš)
It's alright, you're not tripping lol, I don't think I've mentioned it anywhere, oops-
Mamakechi is indeed the mermaid half of Akechi's parentage, a siren to get specific. She's actually alive in this au, just out of her son's reach--not that Goro knows that of course! He thinks she is Very dead.
Mona lives with Sojiro, he's a 100% regular cat (Akira promises <3)!
Sojiro runs his coffee shop directly on a pier, he serves both humans and merfolk--it doesn't make him a lot of money due to mers having more of a bartering society! He'll take gold and silver though since he can pawn those!
Akira often brings him treasure and valuables he finds whenever he's in the area.
There are many ways you can interpret this sprite in combination with the model's stance and vocal delivery. One interpretation I like is that Akechi is kinda scared of how devoted Joker is to him
Refusing to meet his eyes, shaky voice, defeated facial expression, balled-up fists, bowed head... "You're willing to go that far for me? You're even willing to trap me here against my will? Why is your love so terrifying?"
It makes the decision to reject Maruki's deal more powerful. The smile Akechi gives him is partly because Joker proved he's safe in his hands. This is why I can never choose the false reality, I feel so bad validating Akechi's fears like that
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
[[more unedited akira daily life adventures! in which akira spirals over sheer the scope of akechi's palace and tries to act normal to mixed results]]
warnings: slight self harm, depression, canon typical depictions of violence
Thereās a lot of recreation-type shops on the palace outskirts. Joker had thought heād need to start picking up shifts at Lalaās again for supplies, dependent on how long Akechi Goroās palace might be.
This is obviously not the case.
Joker and Mona stride out of another communal building, with accessories this time. Jokerās honestly just glad the palace hasāapparentlyādecided his weapons are āgood enoughā otherwise he might be paranoid enough to turn back and prepare better. Even Mona is starting to flag, ears pressed to his head, glancing around in suspicion.
āOkay, you were right, this is really, really weird.ā
āItās like weāre being invited in, isnāt it?ā
āI know, I hate itāwhy canāt Akechi just be normal?ā
Joker snorts flipping an ancient drachma coin theyād found at the jewelers with the collapsed in roofāallegedly, it was meant to provide luck. āWhen have any of us been 'normal', Mona? It makes sense that would extend to palaces, I mean, I bet mine alone would beā¦ā
He trails off. Out of his peripherals, despite not being summoned, Joker can feel ArsĆØneās featherās ruffle in offense.
(Ah, probably best not to dwell then.)
Mona waits, frowning up at him from the cushion on the gondola, heās suddenly intense enough to pull him up short, āHey, donāt joke about that.ā
He looks away, rubbing at the back of his neck, feeling inexplicably like heās revealed to much again, āYeah. Right. Poor taste.ā
Mona squints at him for a moment longer, before deflating with a sigh, āI get why you wouldnāt ask Futaba, but I really wish youād at least brought Violet along.ā
ā⦠Sheās busy.ā
āYou know sheād drop everything to be here. She liked him too, you know? Akechi.ā
āI know, Mona. I just⦠donāt want to bring her more stress, with the meet coming up and all.ā
Monaās ears press to his skull, āWell.. if you think thatās for the best. I wonāt say anything.ā
āThanks bud.ā
Joker turns his gaze back to the dark waters, smoothly parting for their boat as they move on. His mouth twists to the side because he does know, Sumire would be over the moon, with a chance to repay her Senpai outside of the one day they call and reminisce on February 3rd these past two years running. Sheād told him lots of things, like how Akechi was always kind when he met her and her sister at the TV station, how once he encouraged her on their first interview, and let her practice with him.
To Sumire he was her āBroadcasting Senpaiā long before he was āCrowā.
Akira didnāt know Akechi had that kind of soft spot.
Itās funny, how he probably knew his rival deeper and more intimately than anyone else, and yet if you put him on the spot he doubts he could even tell anyone what the other boyās favorite color is, foods, the town he grew up in, his life before Tokyo and after his motherās death.
He really does wonder how much of the Detective Prince was an act and how much of it was just the person Akechi always wanted to be. There was a bit of dramatic irony thereāhowever much his rival insisted he was all alone, he sure had a tenancy to leave an impression everywhere he stepped.
Thereās not a single person in this world who didnāt matter to somebody somewhere.
āWhoa!ā
Joker shakes out of his thoughts, raising his head from the water ripples. The wetness in the air sticks to his bangs again as he looks up⦠and up, craning his neck as he takes in the intimidating set of stout stone gates. The designs are paradoxically floral compared to the rot and desolation hanging over the palace, Sakura blossoms branching, intertwined with elegant laurel hedges, married in an arch at the flood gateās apex.
Upon closer inspection, there is an empty pedestal rising from the bed of the canal where the waters are more shallow, sitting ever so innocently in front of the blocked way forward. Joker hisses sharply through his teeth, shoving his curls out of his face trying not to curse, he knows a puzzle when he sees on.
Mona only groans behind him.
āUgh, of course it wouldnāt be this easy.ā
-
-
-
āConsidering the themes so far, weāre probably looking for a bust or a statue.ā
Joker drags a hand down his face, hours later, watching Mona hop around the next abandoned shopāa smithy of some sort, he thinks. It doesnāt matter, the most they find are scrap metal that heād sooner sell to Iwai-san than use for himself.
āBut this place is huge! How are we supposed to find something like that, Joker?ā
āItās like searching for a needle in a haystack.ā
Something weighs down his shoulders, his mind more lethargic than when they first entered, even Mona is starting to flag again, sitting on a waterlogged plank with an exhausted plop. Though itās no longer raining, the air is thick and misting with fog and a chill that sinks into Jokerās very bones, his hair is so wet now he has to slick his curls back with both hands every twenty minutes or so.
He clicks his tongue, lips twist to the side with the kind of frenzied irritation only Akechi Goro can drag out of him, fingers tapping impatiently at his bicep as he crosses his arms. That guy really couldnāt make anything easy, could her?
āMy senses have been on the fritz since coming here, I think it might be some sort of passive effect of the palace.ā
There was something hopeless in the air here, it reminds him of Mementosābut instead of madness and desire this was just a hollow sort of emptiness. Like the longer Joker stayed, with only the stillness and the whistling wind for company, the more sluggish his reactions, the more his mind seemed to drift.
Heās had to shake off the urge to nod off several times, even while actively standing.
Joker shivers a bit, wondering how the hell Akechiās apparently been here for months when heās already slowing down after a scant handful of hours. Is he really safe here? He canāt imagine being here for days, weeks even, what ifā
Relax. Lavenza said heās still alive, heās been alive for years now. If he were dead he wouldāve have a palace. You can do this, you can still save him.
His breath is measured as Mona hops up, a bit unsteady, gripping his gloved hand between his paws.
āJoker? Your hand⦠itās shaking.ā
His lashes flutter behind his mask, Joker, crouches down to Morganaās level lips quirking wearily, āI think thereās a limit for how long we can be here at a time.ā
āHmm, I think youāre on the right track there, maybe itās similar to a time out?ā
āA ātime outā?ā
Mona nods, already tugging Joker towards the boat, āLike a stamina gauge! Youāve been using your eye a lot, right? Youāve also been doing all the rowing this entire time.ā
ā⦠And the palace might have a more passive status effect to make up for the lack of enemies so far.ā
āThatās right!ā
Joker puts a hand to his chin, inclining his head, āYou know, Iāve never used energy drinks outside of battle, but do you think caffeine might help us stay for longer periods by that logic?ā His shoulders are still stiff, so he cracks his neck this way and that much to Monaās visible disgust, rolling his upper back muscles a bit.
āI mean, itās possible. We wonāt know until we try! Letās call it for today and try it out next time.ā
Reluctantly, he has to concede the Metaverse felineās point, Mona is always wise.
āYeah⦠alright. Letās head back and regroupāhave you been keeping track of the buildings weāve already looked through, Navigator?ā He canāt help teasing as Mona puffs out his chest, climbing onto his cushion in their gondola.
āWhy of course! Iām no rookieāIām a very illustrious thief, Iāve been mapping things out as we go.ā
Joker canāt help rubbing over his friendās head, ignoring the theatrical squawking, echoing through the otherwise empty canal maze.
āThanks, Mona, donāt know what Iād do without you.ā
āWind up in a ditch, probably.ā
āWow, canāt even give me a fighting chance?ā
āNope! I have to keep an eye on you, who knows what youāll get up to.ā
āDunno, probably go to sleep at 4:00AM every night and subsist on caffeine and sugary snacks.ā
He grins as Mona immediately protestsāāJoker, donāt you DARE!āāturning the gondola around and herding them back in direction of the palace entrance.
(Akechi lingers at the forefront of his mind; the mosaic piece Akira picked up seems to burn a hole in his pocket, ever judgmental, ever watchful. It stays with him even after returning to the real world, Akira sets it on his shelf of souvenirs that night for reasons he canāt quite grasp.
He just canāt get that peculiar shade of pink out of his head.)
////
āThe āRenaissanceā, a french translation of Italiaās rinascitaāmeaning ārebirthā, coined by a Mister Giorgio Vasari! To paraphrase a certain Florentine humanist, the movement was a homage to the noble of achievements of humanityās ancestors, to the lost and forgotten techniques that modern men have allowed to fall to the wayside! Thatās right, the Ancient Greeks and the Romans!ā
Professor Malkevichās flamboyant voice bounces off of every far-reaching corner of the lecture hall, Akiraās ears prick up from where heād been texting Ryuji about rehab exercises.
His luck has always been good. Seems like this class was just one of those many contrivances that liked to fall into his lap.
āāMatteo Palmieriās outlook was that it was our duty to rescue those achievements from mere obscurity, breathing new life into the arts with the fresh blood and burgeoning genius of a bold, new age! To preserve is to renew interest in the arts and culture of a bygone era, to study that beauty and revive the creativity stomped down by the likes of the Catholic Church. Humanists, unlike the Gothic arts of old, introduced topics taken from the classicsāpolitical ideologies, myths, literature! Innovation! To move forward into a better tomorrow it is pertinent for us to study those ancient texts, and learn from what was once lostānow found once moreā¦!ā
āWhat was once lost, now found once more.ā
Akira raises his hand, before he knows what heās doingāāAh! Kurusu-kun, my apologies, I got carried away!ā The man exclaims, spinning around to face the room at large with a pep in his step, heās been stuck on the same slide for at least twenty minutes now: āThis is a free space for learning and constructive discussion, donāt be shyādid you have a question?ā
Another quirk about the good professor was his knack for learning every student he had, at least by surname. No matter how large the class. The manās interest in his studies was genuine and so was his hunger for discourse.
ā⦠What if that something that was found is too broken to restore? Isnāt it lost forever?ā
Raising his voice isnāt necessary, it resonates from deep in his chest, the words feel desperate, hopelessābrought on by the events of a few days ago, and the creeping realization that Akechiās palace may be a months long endeavor, rather than a frantic handful of weeks.
(The thought of failing crushes his lungs like heās drowning in sea water.)
āHmm!ā The professor crosses his arms, ignorant to Akiraās plight, as he leans back against the podium, āWell, I can see why youād think so! Restoration is a meticulous profession, but Palmieri had a vested interest in the worth of those lost things, from the old Latin translators, to the painters, to the poets and the sculpturesāthose remnants of the past were worth preserving, to breathe beauty back into them.ā
āBut what if thereās only ruins of that thing thatās been lost, is there really a way to restore what once was?ā
āIn truth, there is no such thing as absolutely ālostā in this world, Kurusu-kun. there are only things waiting to be āfoundā, again!ā His laugh is bright like wind chimes, Akira hadnāt realized how heavy the knot in his chest was until it begun to unwind. āThereās many ancient texts and mosaics we only have fragments of, but those too, hold value.
āHuman history is a long and storied tapestry, there will always be traces, and there will always be remnants. So long as it continues there will be at least one person who looks back and finds treasure where others may only see paltry ruins and the skeletal remains of what is no longer great! Take kintsugi as a case study, to most a broken vase is a broken vase. But rather than hiding the flaws, kintsugji strives to highlight the repairsāof course there were pieces of that vase that canāt be found, but the end result of filling those cracks and granting them new life is still beautiful in a different way, no?ā
You can still salvage what remains.
āHunting for those shattered pieces is a lot like that idea of ārebirthā from before. To be reborn is to advance, and grant a new home to that which as previously lost.ā
Professor Malkevich seems like he can go on forever, but, he abruptly cuts himself off, his laugh is warm and sheepish, something in Akira unfurls. The tension in his shoulders ease.
āOops! I got carried away againādoes that answer your query, Kurusu-kun?ā
Akira has to clear his throat twice, so he doesnāt make a fool of himself getting choked up in front of a bunch of strangersābut his eyes are clear, and ArsĆØne is steady at his back: āYes, Professor. Thank you for humoring me. I know the question was odd.ā
āNonsense! Lifeās oddities are what makes it worth living. Now where was I⦠oh, yes, Humanism!ā
Akira notices the good Professor has a fondness for Orion apples after passing him and his colleagues by chance during lunch hour. He brings one to every class after that. Finding good teachers was always a pleasant surprise, Akira figures he doesnāt mind paying back this much with what heād gained in turn.
////
āSooo, how exactly are we going to do this and keep it from everyone?ā Morgana eyes him in disapproval, clearly still not on board with Akiraās infallible two man infiltration strategy.
āWeāll have to check all the buildings⦠I guess, or at least find one that looks distinct enough to hold a bust.ā
āThis palace is huge though! That could take weeks, we need a bigger team!ā
Akira shrugged, āNot necessarily, itāll just take longer.ā
āGod this is awful, Akechi makes you so... irrational!ā
His cat flopping over the desk with a skeptical huff, Akira pauses in his tool-making to scratch between his ears, theyād gone in again todayāstill no enemies, only the mist, and that mysterious feel of eyes crawling down his back.
āIām being perfectly rational,ā he hums, āI donāt need input from the team on this, this isnāt a true heart change, itās a rescue mission.ā
ā⦠That sounds like a loop hole youāre exploiting.ā
Akiraās lips quirk as he scoops Morgana from his workbench in a flourish, cradling him in his lapāMorgana shoots him a dirty look but settles down to loaf in his lap. He gets back to sorting through their loot.
āI know youāre worried, but I promise I know what Iām doing.ā
āAkiraā¦ā
He prods a furry cheek affectionately, āI donāt want to trouble the others with this, alright? Ann just started college in America, Ryujiās busy on the other side of the country, Haru and Yusuke are overseas, even Futaba and Makoto have their own lives to worry about.ā
Morganaās ears lower, then, quietly, āTheyād come running in a heartbeat if you asked, you know.ā
āBut would they for Akechi?ā
His friend canāt meet his eyes, Akira feels a little bad. Itās one of those harder questions, the type that keeps him up at night reckoning with his and his friendsā justice and their human blind spots. He isnāt an idiot, he knows the Phantom Thieves work in less shades of gray than the power they wield should probably facilitate. The choice was unanimous but that didnāt necessarily mean they couldnāt make mistakes.
(It was Akechiās favorite flaw of theirs to point out.)
Akira flips an aged drachma in the air, it lands topside. āWhat do you think will happen if I tell everyone out of the blue like this? Without what weāve learnedāāAkechi Goro is alive and he has a palace.āā
ā⦠Theyād probably think heās up to something if you donāt give them any contextāā
āSo youāre saying their first instinct would be offense?ā
āI mean yeah, palaces are pretty hostile, even Futabaās almost wiped us all out once or twice.ā
āBut Iām taking about the person. Would they genuinely want to help him? Do you?ā
āOf course I do!ā Morgana leaps off of his lap, yowling, Akira watches him in silence, even leaning a casual elbow again his work desk, āEven I feel a bit of responsibility too, yaāknow! I-If weād guided him down the right path in the first place, thereās a chance things wouldnāt have had to end like they didā¦ā his white tipped tail droops, entire posture slumping as he exhales, āHe⦠helped us a lot. He at least tried to be better by the end, and he was. He continued to be even after he couldāve just washed his hands of us and lived his own life for once.ā
A beat.
āHeās the one that got me out of juvie,ā Akira adds, quietly, āhe found the woman who Shido blackmailed, and got her to re-testify, got my charges dropped and everything. I had a lot of people in my corner, but no one knew the details of that case. We thought she came forward on her own, remember?ā
āYeah, I remember.ā
āSae contacted her, Akechi used his detective prince persona to persuade her, apparently.ā Akira huffs in amusement āMan, he mustāve hated that.ā
āA lot of humans become distorted for selfish reasons,ā Morgana continues, voice subdued, ātheir core desire becomes an unhealthy obsession, and then they hurt others. Akechi hurt a lot of people, but he never lied to himself, or made excuses the way our other targets did...
āHe did good, in the end, at least. And-and I donāt think itās right that all he gets for it is that palace thatās just rot and miseryāno, itās wrong.ā Morgana says firmly, āThatās not a punishment its just self-flagellation. Instead of other people heās just hurting himself.ā
Akira presses his fingers through his hair, shoving it away from his forehead, his lips twitch, āI mean what was working for his shitty sperm donor if not a certain brand of self-flagellation?ā
Morgana squints. āI see what youāre doing.ā
He smiles, the very picture of innocence: āAnd what am I doing? My darling Mona who is great and magnanimous, whom I love so much and makes for a wonderful space heater during the winter nightsāow.ā
Tiny needle-like teeth pull away from his bare ankle as Morgana gives him a bland look, āYou donāt think theyāll see it the same.ā
āI know they wonāt. He got executed in front of us in the depths of his father's psyche and everyone's first question in Janurary was whether or not he was planning on betraying us,ā Akira paused, āsorry, thatās not fair, he did kill Okumura senior.ā
(Well, there was also Sae's palace and the interrogation, but Akira more counted that as a 'thing' between him and Akechi rather than a betrayal to the group. He's not sure what that says about him.)
This is another reason why Akira canāt tell his friends, heād probably slip and say something just a little too off color. He still held no love for Okumura senior, any of their targets, really. He respected Haru, for being able to love her father and all of what could have been in the fragments of their fractured relationship, while Akira held his grudges and stored them away, letting them settle under a layer of permafrost.
Morgana shoots him an exasperated look, āYou could at least pretend to care.ā
Blink. āAfter Yusukeās everything?ā
āWell, talking to Madarame wasnāt bringing him āclosureā, it was making him worseā¦!ā
And hadnāt that been a mess and a half, convincing Yusuke that he no longer had any responsibility to the man who all but killed his mother, that the man Madarame was probably incapable of love in the first placeābefore and after the heart change.
Makotoās sister was different, sheād changed her own heart. Madarame on the other hand, had to be dragged to the altar of accountability kicking and screaming, trampling on the graves of young talents heād long buried all the way. Heād crushed Yusukeās unconditional love just as easily, the way heād crushed his mother.
Hands soaked in blood, soul twisted enough to build a museum to his own narcissistic vanity.
Itād been a team effort of texts, group video calls and late night brainstorming to get Yusuke to stop his visits. To stop expecting love from a ghost and let go of the gentle mentor that likely never truly existed. The harrowing experience had brought Yusuke and Haru closer together, at the least.
(Thatās honestly all Akira could ask for.)
āAnd Haru having access to her shell of a father who was going to traffic her for political gain would do wonders for her mental health, Iām sure.ā His voice is so dry it makes him wince a little.
āAkira, weāve talked about this, it wasnāt our choice! It was Haruās choice, and Akechi took that away, andāoh.ā
Akira arches an eyebrow.
ā⦠Fine. I see what you mean.ā
āThereās too many factors to take into account, it could cloud everyoneās judgment.ā Inhale. Exhale. āIād go it alone if I could, Mona, I canāt just leave him.
āThis isnāt a circus act, or some quest for answers, this is a rescue mission. I donāt care about past betrayals or whoās wrong or right, I just want him safe.ā I want him here.
Silence.
Morganaās velvety ears are flat against his skull again, he sighs but eventuallyāhe bends, just the way Akira knew he would. āOkay, fine. But the moment I feel like youāre in danger, real danger, Iām calling in the cavalry, whether you want the help or not.ā
Akira nods once, crossing his arms over his chest in a closed off gesture, āRight. Itās a deal.ā
Mona hops onto his lap with a grumble, arching up to rub their cheeks together, āDonāt be an idiotāweāre friends, Joker. Iāll always be in your corner.ā
[end part 1]
///
Sometime last year, when Akira was breezing through his midterms, his new Tokyo family started to fall apart.
He was four hundred miles and several stations away, stuck in the boonies when his phone starting pinging with the telltale sirens of: Alert! Alert! Leader needed immediately! This is an emergency! Futaba had called him in a frenzy, followed by Ann while he was trying to get the story from Futaba, turning it into a somewhat chaotic three-way call.
After a fragmented explanation heād learned three things of equally terrifying proportion:
One, a panicked Ryuji had heard from Mishima, who had heard from one concerned Togo Hifumi that Yusuke hadnāt attended classes or returned to his dorm for a week. Two, Yusukeās phone had been off for almost all of this time. And finally, three: the last two places his cellphone pinged were at the oldānow condemnedāshack he used to live in with Madarame, and the local prison where Madarame was currently incarcerated.
The wee hours of that stressful morning were accented by a myriad of texts, phone calls, and blind panicāAkira tugging strands of his curls by the handful. He was close to just saying fuck it and ordering a train ticket back to Tokyo as he received too many updates from far too many conflicting perspectives heād woken up, desperate for information.
The uncertainty of it all had made him want to scream.
As he tore out of his parentsā house an hour before dawn, jaw clenched with Morgana following close at his heels, there had been men in black watching him from across the street. Theyād still been lingering, then. And for a wild moment he had considered driving a fist into one of those smug bastards, with those accusing eyes and glinting sunglasses. It had taken everything in Akira to keep from making a scene.
(āTheyā wanted a reason to take him in again. Akira wasnāt giving them one.)
āHis parents werenāt home, his mom was in Osaka and his father went overseas with his campaign secretary, Akira rationalized, if he left now he could get to Tokyo in five hours where he could join in the search.
It was his fault.
He shouldāve checked in on Yusuke more. The thievesā āInariā was quiet and elegant, spacey with his head in the clouds, full of big ideas and an obsessive itch to create and not much else. He was sharp, precise, and stubborn when he dug his heels in on the oddest things, but he was also theirs. They hadnāt worried because, well, Yusuke was Yusuke. Nothing ever seemed to phase the boy, he got over things quickly and moved to the beat of his own drum.
How could Akira mess up like thisā? Heād promised himself, after Ryuji, after Mona, after him, that he wouldnāt ever let this happen again. He was supposed to be wiser, better, why wasnāt he better?
What if someone took him away? What if Akira was wrong about being the only one followed? Yusuke was by far the easiest thief to guess the identity of, Akechi and Makoto both had said as much. The most vulnerable, the odd one out who didnāt even go to the same school. Unprotected.
Always a step behind, always too slow on the uptake, Joker.
But he wasnāt Joker anymore now, was he?
(He couldnāt save anyone as useless, boring, Kurusu Akiraājust like he couldnāt save that woman from a monster masquerading as a politician as a first year brat.)
He was halfway to mumbling out a destination to his hick townās sole train station employee, hands clammy with a cold sweat, barely keeping his voice from cracking, when Ryuji called with Haru on the line.
Theyād found Yusuke in that cursed storeroom that had previously held the defiled work of his mother. It had long been swept clean for evidence by the police before the building was condemned, the electricity was cut off, so Yusuke had set up a candlelight.
The hunched figureās fingers bled around a worn, half cracked pencil, eyes bone dry from blinking too little, not sleeping enough, thin lips cracked from dehydration. Haru had apparently held his free hand in hers while Ryuji put Akira on speaker, and they all gently coaxed the boy out of his stupor like their noble, unflappable Fox was made of nothing but porcelain.
Ryuji gently pried open that tightly clenched hand from around that pencil, clutched like a lifeline, while Haru softly asked when Yusuke had eaten last, why not stay with her for a while. Sheās taking a gap year, she thinks, perhaps they should spend it out of Tokyo together, wouldnāt that be nice, Yusuke?
And Akira had held the phone to his shoulder 400 miles away, counting his breaths, replaying Ryujiās discomforted words over and over in his brain, stomach squirming in his gut:
āHey leader, Yusukeās in a bad way and Annās still searching all the way in Shibuya. I need your help on this.ā
They still call him āleaderā sometimes, in high stress situations, because Jokerās stoicism is reassuring, steady and stout like a load bearing pillarāso, 'Akira' must be too. His chin shook slightly as he sat heavily on the grass outside of that tiny station after the ordeal, gulping around the lump in his throat as Morgana curled up in his lap, ears flicking with wide miserable eyes.
āI miss everyone, Joker.ā
āI know, me too, Mona,ā he whispered like it was a secret, and it was a little bit, because āJokerā was strong, he wasnāt meant to be human, he was the one to lean on, he didnāt get scared heā
[Powerless, handcuffed to a chair in a dark concrete room meant to be his graves. A sharp pain and a blow. His ribs screaming as a large leather boot slams into his gut, nausea crawling up his throat, a sense of disorientation from the drugs and the vertigo drowning his senses:
āYou still donāt get it, do ya? Give it up!ā]
(He hadnāt been able to sleep that night, he didnāt want to bug Mona with his nightmares.)
Apparently, Yusuke had been seeing Madarame for months, the sirenās song of Marukiās reality weighing far more than heād ever let on to the team. He didnāt want to raise any concerns so heād kept the renewed visits to himself, hoping for reconcile. Heād grown desperate to see a sliver of the man heād admired, anything to see that the heart change had magically cured his old mentor, his father.
What heād found was a hollow shell that was devoid of inspiration, one who apologized to the point of excess and rattled on about past sins like a mad manāa perverse degradation as opposed to genuine atonement. Heād insisted there were moments of lucidity sometimes, where Madarame gave him advice, like he used to. They werenāt often.
Yusuke had called it āmoments of weaknessā, that lingering hope. At his lowest, heād go to the prison and pretend, just for a moment, that Marukiās reality had been real. And for that same moment, he punished himself, consumed by an all encompassing guilt that he loved this man stillāmore than a dead parent heād never known, a parent Madarame had all but murdered.
What unfilial son makes a wish like this?
Yusuke had asked three days later over video call, bundled up in one of Haruās fluffy towels looking for all the world like a bedraggled stray, eyes haunted and fathomless, looking at something far beyond the screen. So far away it made Akiraās heart race, hands carding through Monaās fur in his lap, stressed and trying not to show it.
(Whatās the plan, āLeaderā?)
Akira had wanted to reach through the screen, hold Yusukeās hand and promise to fix this but⦠itās like the world was seeped in sepia tone, there was a buzzing in his ears that reminds him of November again. That concrete room. The cops and their heavy boots.
āIt makes you human.ā
Powerless. Heās useless to them like this.
/////
Sturdy combat boots crush a wad of waterlogged newsprint in the alleyway where Iwaiās shop is located. Akira hasnāt helped out much this year, the man having waved him off once he was back in town, just telling him to drop by when he has the time.
Kaoru was starting college exams next year, Akira wonders if Iwai-san was finally feeling remorseful for working him so hard as a second year high school student. Also the whole Yakuza thing. That had been a fun side adventure.
(Not that anything wouldāve stopped him, but it really was the thought that counted.)
With a bright smile, Akira deftly drops a canvas bag full of scraps and tin on the counter with the same energy as a cat dropping a dead animal at their benefactor's door. Iwai clicks his tongue in response, snapping his inventory notebook closed with a snap. He huffs a laugh through his nose.
āBeen a while kid, this is nostalgic.ā
āYeah, brings back memories doesnāt it?ā Akira shoves his hands in his jacket pockets rocking back on his heels while Iwai-san studies the junk heādāquite literallyādropped in his lap. Heās already picked out the things deemed useful enough for infiltration tools, so really the rest is just dead weight.
In the interim, Akira finds himself leaning his elbows on the counter, eyes squinting in mirth. Itās familiar here, in this dimly lit air soft shop, so nostalgic he hadnāt even realized how much he missed it.
āSo, are we haggling today or are you gonna give me a discount?ā
āYouāve sure gotten cheeky.ā
āNot at all! I just know youāre one big softie.ā
Iwai levels him with an unimpressed look, āUh-huh. And Iām guessing you wonāt be telling me what all this is about? Do I have to worry about the skies raining blood anytime soon?ā
Akiraās lips twitch into a crooked grin.
āNot likely, weatherās safe as far as I know. Iāll throw in some scraps and some manual labor for your trouble though.ā
āFine, but youāre helping me with inventory while I work, you interrupted my lunch.ā
ā⦠You werenāt eating lunch though, Iwai-san.ā
āSure wasnāt.ā Iwai huffs a laugh, āNow, help me make sense of these numbers.ā
āEhhh, I thought you needed me doing inventory, not your books.ā
āDonāt whine, hop to it.ā
///
āHowās your blood pressure, it was high last check up wasnāt it?ā
āAnyone ever tell you how creepy it is when you do that, kid?ā
Akira takes a sudden interest in the handwritten notebook that has Iwaiās entire lively hood neatly written in the margins, yanking at his bangs. He shrugs, feigning bashful silenceāthereās no remorse at all.
The older man only rolls his eyes with a grunt as he bites into the Big Bang Burger heād used his sporadic part timer to procure, also result of said part-timerās needling. āDonāt put on that good boy act around me, I already know youāre a troublemaker.ā
Akira really couldnāt help himself, Iwai-san didnāt text all much, Kaoru howeverā¦
(Heād always planned on coming back, Tokyo was where his people were, and Akira liked to keep track even if no one would do the same for him.)
Another beat where Akira mentally counted down the seconds beforeāāItās fine. Just need some different medication.ā
āYou should take care of yourself.ā
āI take care of myself the correct amount for a middle aged Japanese man.ā
āYou got a D on your last physical exam. Not even Bossās score is that low and he still smokes like a chimney.ā
Iwai curses under him breath, grumbling about meddling sons and cheeky brats, āBut seriously, youāre not in any trouble, are you?ā His leans his elbows on his knees, brows furrowed into a familiar worried scowl.
Akira blinks, he twirls the pen in hand, expression going carefully blank: āNo, Iwai-san. Nothing I canāt handle.ā
For some reason that doesnāt make his scowl ease any. Akira runs over what heās just said and canāt find anything wrong, necessarily. The uncomfortable silence stretches on, Akiraās born out of confusion as Iwai studies him like a common math problem, fingers tapping against his knees.
Heās about as intimidating as Boss at this point, heās seen the guy cowed by a fifteen year oldās righteous anger about long work hours, after all. Akira tries not to frown as he puzzles over the conversion from a few more angles andāoh.
He couldnāt beā¦? Was heā¦
Iwai finally clicks his tongue, jolting Akira out of his stupor, āHellāwhatever. As long as you stay safe, I suppose.ā
The blood rushes to Akiraās face so quickly it leaves him lightheaded. He cuts his chin and hunches his shoulders.
āIām not a kid anymore.ā He mumbles, like a kid.
Iwai snorts, āYou just graduated high school last year, kiddo. You really, really are.ā
āCan you please just upgrade these for me?ā
āWeāll, since youāre beinā so polite about itā¦ā
Akira pouts for the rest of the afternoon, physical log book plopped in his lap with a calculator in one hand and a pen in the other, heās being a bit dramatic. Itās not like this is āhardā work, skimming numbers and inventory, memorization, noting down quarterly sales and stock.
Itās just tedious.
Heās a bit too wound up for tedious these days.
At the end of his shift, Iwai places a steady hand on his shoulder, the way Sojiro does. Akira blinksātheyāre mostly eye level now and it gives him a sense of vertigo, realizing he hadnāt reverted back to that mischievous second year just being back here. He doesn't even need to tilt his head up anymore to meet Iwai's gaze.
The older man takes him in for a moment, while Akira shifts awkwardly from foot to foot, ā⦠I really am okay, you know.ā
That gets him an eye roll, āSure, kid, youāre very strong and capable. Just donāt get too in over your head.ā
Flick.
Akiraās nose scrunches up, rubbing at his smarting forehead as Iwai finally releases him, a faint smirk flickering over his grim features, āFine, fine, I wonāt go any further. Just donāt wind up behind bars this round.ā
Looking away, Akira fiddles with his overgrown bangs, the fraternal worry makes something in him smart in a way he really doesnāt have the spoons to examine too closely right now. āIāll come help out again next week.ā
A defeated sigh. āJust be careful, for Kaoru, alright? Kid would be a mess if anything happened to you.ā
Akira stifles a snort, seeing right through himāstill such a softyāāSure, Iwai-san, I promise⦠for āKaoruā.ā
āDonāt sass me, hurry on home already.ā
His confidant waves him off with a grimace, looking thoroughly harassed, messing up Akiraās hair on his way out the door with a vengeance.
Itās weird getting his hair ruffled. Usually only Sojiro does it, and even then, he canāt recall his own biological father ever doing such a thing so informal. Akira bows his head a little, ears burning. Ah, yes, the consequences of befriending a bunch of adults as a teenager with blatant abandonment issuesāheād sure gotten an bizarre web of patchwork aunts and uncles out of it.
(He is not looking forward to Ohya-san realizing heāll be of drinking age in a handful of months.)
As he makes his way home, Akira turns his head to the sky, too lit up by the lights of the city to show any stars. This had been a comfort back in his hometown, a childish hope that though they were separated at least he and his rival were looking at the same moon during those long, sleepless, nights.
But now he has confirmation that he was wrongāAkechi is not looking at the same sky as him right now. Heās rotting, his psyche collapsing in on itself and its own grief. Akira doesnāt know if heās slept at all, if heās safe, or warm⦠Was he a mess like heād been in the engine room, at the end? Or maybe, he was grimly reflecting in the depths of his palace, surrounded by all his trauma and past hurts, accepting of what he deems a āworthy punishmentā.
Itās fit to drive Akira mad.
The emotions are a constant buzz, boiling him from the beneath the surface, between every conversation and daily routine.
āAh, youāre back.ā
Akiraās brain stops, he meets Sojiroās half smile and slides his gaze to Futaba, still in her uniform, tacking away on her laptop at a frankly concerning pace, while draining an energy drink one handed. One by one he relaxes his muscles. Mona weaves between his legs.
āHow was the air soft store?ā
āFine,ā Akiraās lips quirk passively, āhe was utterly dazzled by my stellar inventory skillsāunlike someone I know.ā
āUh huh,ā Sojiro rolls his eyes, āIāll trust you with my inventory when you can tell a Hawaiian Kona bean from a Gutamalan Antigua.ā
āCome on, Boss, canāt you cut me some slack?ā
āNo way, my shopās reputationās on the line, youāre still a hundred years too early.ā
The bickering is safeāfamiliar. Sojiroās the first adult Akiraās ever trusted, the first to give him space, to offer him a home to come back to instead of simply exist in.
(Futaba watches him intensely from beneath her bangs with furrowed brows, Akira forces himself not to linger on it.)
////
ANN
Hey, guys~
Guess who totally nailed their first show!
You know I didnāt think Iād be as into fashion as like a /medium/
but putting together the outfits is surprisingly fun!
Akira tilts the phone back a little at the counter, eyes flickering over a brunette model in sleek black leather and with a sharp silhouette, accented by fluffy gray peacock feathers. Itās a lazy afternoon, Akira didnāt have any classes so he told Sojiro heād cover for today while he and Futaba went to see that Featherman revival sheās been antsy over.
Thereās only so much time before Futaba had to start studying for her college entrance exams, after all.
Ann is grinning ear to ear next to her model who holds up a peace sign, breaking the elegant immersion. The other members of what Akira can only assume are her group are making similar silly expressions.
Sheās in her element, it makes something in Akira beam with pride seeing so many people that wonāt judge her for her looks, that look just like her, even.
Heād been worried about her, going so far away but Annās always been strongāhe should really stop underestimating her.
AKIRA
Lookin good.
Donāt forget about us.
ANN
!!!
Never!
I was just talking about you actually.
And your terrible taste in fashion~
Your face is so handsome in contrast, it made everyone depressedā¦
AKIRA
Hey.
ANN
I showed my group a picture of you on our rode trip and got bombarded with inspiration boards.
It kinda spiraled from there and now youāre the classās mini pet project!
AKIRA
Rude.
I feel like thereās an insult there but I donāt know how to put it into wordsā¦
RYUJI
I mean, dude Iāve seen your wardrobe!
I wouldnāt call black on gray a āfashion senseā in the first place.
ANN
I mean youāre not exactly a winner either, Ryujiā¦
RYUJI
Wait, what???
ANN
Iāve never seen anyone mash up clashing patterns like you do.
RYUJI
Oi, I just like color is all, yellowās cool!
ANN
Those graphic tees sure arenātā¦
YUSUKE
I believe Ryujiās taste in clothing to be quite unique.
Quite inspiring, to use such neon colors with yourself as the canvasā¦!
I almost admire it in a way.
RYUJI
You guys are really starting to piss me off.
AKIRA
So whatās worse, too much color or too little color
ANN
Youāre not off the hook yet, Iām going to wrestle you into so many designer jackets.
If you even think about pulling out that polo shirt again Iāll start eating the polyester.
AKIRA
Wow, thatās intense.
HARU
I do admit, Akira for someone so flashy as a thief
I find it somewhat surprising that youāre so...
Whatās the word?
ANN
Basic?
YUSUKE
Neutral.
RYUJI
Underwhelming?
AKIRA
Yeesh, tough crowd.
ANN
Your failboy wardrobe justifies the toughness honestly.
Do you even go out? Futaba worries, yaāknow.
AKIRA
Ehh, I moonlight as a server at Lalaās bar sometimes.
Itās nice, the stage makeupās fun at least.
RYUJI
????
The place in Shinjuku??????
The gay bar
What???
He couldāve sworn he mentioned it⦠ah. Akira thinks back, mentally running through past conversations. That was Akechi. He'd never really told his team, he really should break that habit. He pops a hip against the bar, lips quirked in amusement as the chat all but explodes.
AKIRA
First, its not technically a gay barāsecondly,
where do you think I suddenly got all that money for palace supplies back in highschool?
I was always gone on Sundays.
Mamaās cool, she pays well.
RYUJI
MAMA!?!
ANN
God, Ryuji, grow up will youāAkira pics. Now.
HARU
Oh my! Perhaps weāve misjudged youā¦
My apologies, Akira-kun!
YUSUKE
Fascinating prospect, makeup is an art of itās own.
Iāve always been quite androgynous, perhaps you should introduce me to this āLalaā
RYUJI
I really think you guys are under reacting to all thisā¦
ANN
Shut it, Ryuji.
Akira rubs his neck, cheeks a bit pink, heād honestly mostly wanted to get them off his back about his wardrobe but, well⦠Morgana peeks at him from where heās laying in a sunbeam, rolling over on his belly in front of the window sill.
āAkira, who are you talking to?ā
āAnn, she had her fashion show.ā
āOhhh! Show me! Show me!ā
Mona makes an impressive leap from the booth to the counter, Akira tilts the phone to show his friend the picture, smiling slightlyāāOne second, I gotta prove something.ā
āProve what?ā
Whistling a soft tune he skims back through his phoneās gallery to the second or third week he moved back to Tokyo, he finds a picture from game night, Ohya had taken it, drunk as a skunk, giggling as the barās ambient lighting caught him behind the bar just right, curly wig in place with ruby red lipstick, well-defined jaw softened by contouring and blush. His smokey eyes were half lidded, stuffed into the punishment cop fit Lala keeps threatening to just gift to him since he picks it so often.
[[āAhh, what a surpriseā¦ā Words gasped out between desperate chuckles that lit up a boyish face that faded into a mysterious sort of smile: āThereās never a dull moment with you, is there?ā]]
Akira blinks out of his daze, he sends the photo.
āAnn says Iām boring.ā
He wonders how Akechi would feel seeing him in proper drag, as opposed to the soddy hack job Lala had lamented over back when Akira came to her with an impossible request as an awkward high school kid who wanted to impress his rival. Would Akechi still laugh? Would he react with shock like Ryuji, or admiration like Ann and Haru?
Akiraās cheeks heat as Morgana climbs onto his shoulder, ears flicking at he reads the chat.
āWow, you really do look good in everything, huh?ā
Akira shrugs, āNaw, I just look good in black.ā
He spends the afternoon chatting with everyone, catching upāAnnās show and her designs, Ryujiās new coach and the specialized brace his scholarship paid for, Yusukeās ever growing social media following and Haruās notes on coffee beans after their trip to Paris. He has no doubt Makoto and the rest of the girls are following their dreams with the same amount of gusto.
Yet here he is, standing stillāwaitingāwhile everyone he loves keep moving forward.
Akiraās stomach twists, hearing the cheerful chat pings from his front apron pocket. Itās awful and selfish what heās doing, and he knows it deep down. Everyone felt guilt over Akechi, Akira wasnāt special. The reasons heād given Morgana were nothing more than excuses.
He just wasnāt ready to give this up yetāgive Akechi up, that is. Not when heās finally grabbed hold of that hand again. Not when Akiraās finally found a way forward after so long spend frozen in place, never moving on, simply going through the motions always hoping Akechi Goro would return one day to finish what they started.
(Heās earned being āselfishā, he thinks, just this once.)
iāve been thinking about this video nonstop since the first time i saw it
the jaunty walk perfectly in time with the music. the tip of the hat the unaware or uncaring bystanders. the shaky camera with random zooming. the fact that this is seemingly happening in a park. this is peak media i canāt get over it
The reblog chain is one of the things that makes Tumblr unlike anywhere else. All the notes on reblogs are attributed to the original post, no matter which branch people actually liked or reblogged. We want to keep encouraging conversations, and give contributors the recognition they deserve.Ā
Soon, you'll be able to like, reblog, or reply to any part of a reblog chain, and that note will go to that reblog's author. Each reblog will have its own counts, instead of one aggregated number from every version of the post. And yes, youāll be able to like multiple posts in one chain.
If a reblog doesn't add anything, the love flows up to the last person in the chain who did. Your post doesn't lose notes just because people spread it quietly.
Past notes will stay on the original post ā we're only changing what happens from here on out. Retroactively re-attributing all of them would be... a lot.
This is just the beginning. More changes are coming as we keep building this out ā stay tuned!
Itās very clear that you all have strong feelings about Tumblr and about this change. We hear you. The passion people have for how Tumblr works is one of the things that makes this place special.
As this rolls out over the next few days and you explore it, weāll keep reading your replies and reblogs, so please keep sharing your questions, concerns, and ideas.
Your creativity has always been the heart of Tumblr, whether youāre the original poster or adding something brilliant in the reblogs,Ā and nothing about this change is meant to limit that.
If youād like to talk directly beyond the comments, leave a reply and weāll follow up with as many of you as we can. We want to work with you to make Tumblr better.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Ok, mother of GOD that's a lot of responses and I am but one man with Excel. I'll update these ASAP but also some rules:
A Pokemon only counts for itself, not its evolution line.
A Pokemon with multiple forms (like Zygarde) will only be counted for the specified form. A Pokemon with multiple appearances (like Spinda, Vivillon, Sylvally, etc.) count for all their appearances.
I'm literally doing this as a testament to my own depression that not everyone is lovable, so add that to the weight of this post's meaning.