stardust souls

Thieves in a palace, full of tales and lies We gotta stake it; burn it out Expose the malice that you chose to hide It's just a break-in to break out

[heartsaligned-a]

@heavenslapse​ | akira and akechi on 2/2 ❄️

     Gentle snow fluttered softly past frosted glass, peaceful, quiet. The night was mild, dark and cold, but a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature had settled into Akira’s bones, into his heart and soul. For weeks he had forced himself not to think too deeply about Akechi’s reappearance, to take their time together as a blessing and not pull away the curtain, but in one swift movement Maruki had lain everything bare. Akira had been forced to look, forced to see something he couldn’t bear, all in a final, desperate attempt to control him. To control them.

     It wasn’t fair.

     Akira wasn’t stupid. Far from it, really. Everyone who met him commented on the sharpness of his gaze and his uncanny intuition. Incredibly perceptive, able to see past the mundane into something few others could see. He had seen Akechi when no one else could, witnessed the goodness of his heart despite the weight that clawed through his chest into the very fiber of his being. He had fallen in love with the person who would be his murderer, and yet it was the man who had been sent to help him had escaped detection. Maruki had displayed as unreadable for Akira, working his way into the teen’s head before he could be blocked out. For months Akira had let him use him without understanding why he felt so disgusting, so guilty--as if he owed the man something he wasn’t able to offer. And now, after months of pulling strings, he finally dealt his coup de grâce.

     At first, Akira couldn’t explain Akechi’s survival, but he also wasn’t going to deny his presence. It was a miracle. But the sparkling sheen began to chip off as the days passed, as Isshiki Wakaba and Haru’s father mysteriously returned to the world of the living as well. The thought had occurred to Akira then that Akechi might be in the same situation, but before it could even process his mind set up another wall, blocking the truth from sinking in. His mental state was already on the decline, and losing Akechi once had nearly killed him. How was he supposed to go through that again? How could he?

     There was no denying it anymore, of course. Maruki had made sure to make his terms clear, dangling Akechi’s life in front of him like a carrot on a string. Taking such a detestable deal sounded suddenly almost palatable, but the thought of accepting quickly turned Akira’s stomach. The Phantom Thieves fought as a unit, a tight-knit team that decided on everything unanimously, but in the end Akira was their leader. They followed him when he made the calls, and Maruki understand the nature of their relationship all too well. In the end, the decision was his and his alone.

     Time was running out. 

     After what seemed like an eternity in silence, Akira rose from his seat at the center booth, moving to stand next to Akechi, the resolve etched into his features already telling him everything he needed to know. There was no way they could accept the deal, they both knew it. Maruki had to be stopped, the world had to return to its true reality. Yet all Akira wanted to do was stay in this moment, to stay with Akechi no matter the cost. It was selfish, he knew that it was, but when did he ever get to be selfish? It was one thing after another with him, a life of selflessness, of struggling to meet other peoples’ standards, of taking their pain, being the responsible leader. Why did things have to turn out like this? Didn’t either one of them deserve one little bit of happiness after all these years?

     “Akechi...”

     Softer than he intended, more quiet and raw than he would have liked despite the attempt at keeping his approach impersonal. There was still so much left to be said, so much that had become suddenly so impossible to speak aloud. Neither one of them could afford to back down now, and if Akira knew that saying the wrong thing would have devastating consequences. The world could easily fall into the hands of a sociopath with a god complex and they would remain under his influence, puppets forced to smile and dance until they day they finally were allowed to die.

     “Do I get any say in this?”

[kohi-karasu]

self indulgent twitter sketch dump

[heartsaligned-a]

,

[heartsaligned-a]

heavenslapse​:

@heartsaligned — akechi follows akira who follows a ghost 🔦

     The saccharine smile rarely left Goro’s lips. It grew daunting to always remain in character for so long with no reprieve. More and more people joined them as they wandered through the labyrinths, mazes inside movies. But here, that number had starkly dwindled to five. After their party had entered the new labyrinth the way back and been firmly shut, unwilling to allow anyone else through or for them to ESCAPE.

     Dust and grime collected in the dim foyer. The lobby appeared to have been vacant for quite some time. The towering Torii arched before the stairwell; the top closed off by a gateway barring any entry further in. They’d need to find a way around, which wouldn’t be too difficult. Being with three members of the Inaba team and Akira was much less grating on his nerves than the entire flock of lost sheep waiting for them and probably worried for their precious leader and fellow team members—Goro excluded. The thieves tolerated his presence, that much was obvious. However, in a matter of days, none of it would matter anymore. They’d all be rid of each other and Goro would no longer have to entertain the idiocy of the Phantom Thieves.

      Like the other labyrinths their wardrobe had changed, outfits that were more VINTAGE compared to their modern attire the other maze’s provided. Yukiko was marveling at the the grim atmosphere, while Yu and Yosuke’s anxiety was apparent in the nervous way they glanced about. Yu’s posture was stiff and rigid, tense, and his sharp gaze was laced with a wildness found in skittish animals. And then there was Akira…

      The flashlight lay forgotten on the ground, the light rolling over the worn and dirty carpet to illuminate the fragile remains of newspaper clippings and photographs so old the pictures had long faded away. It didn’t take a genius to know SOMETHING was wrong. Goro knelt to pick up the fallen flashlight, holding it deftly between his fingers. That perfect smile slipped over his lips, his voice cheerful and light despite their bleak surroundings.

      ❝Don’t tell me this place has rattled you as well?❞

     At first the labyrinth had seemed exciting, a private little viewing just for the five of them. When Elizabeth had handed him the ticket he had wondered why the cast list was specific, but he hadn’t expected the entrance to actually seal itself once they were inside. Still, it wasn’t much of an issue given their collective skill level. The most interesting detail, however, was the atmosphere. Heavy, oppressive, devastated--so unlike the other labyrinths before. It was almost as if they had stepped into another world...

     Unlike the previous labyrinths, the world around them was highly detailed, structured in such a way that it couldn’t have been cobbled together by the hearts of those watching. It was distinct and so real Akira could scarcely get past the feeling the foyer alone gave him. Dilapidated ruins containing a hidden story, tragic and heart-breaking, calling him further in as though begging for someone to uncover the truth. Voices beckoning from the void, ever so softly, pleading for help.

     Slipping away from the others was almost too easy, and before he knew it he had wandered a fair distance, exploring the curious building for anything peculiar. No shadows seemed to be lurking nearby, ready to pounce, but Akira couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t alone. Eyes seemed to track his every movement, but whenever he turned to shine his light he saw nobody, only particles of dust floating through the dim beam. He knew himself too well to think himself paranoid, but at the same time he wasn’t going to worry. If anyone was lingering, they would reveal themselves in time. 

     A display of old, rotten masks ultimately piqued his interest, their haunting expressions giving him the feeling they were staring directly into his soul despite their lack of eyes. Each Phantom Thief wore their own mask, but Akira, as a wildcard, seemed to hold an infinite amount inside of himself. At first the thought of such a thing had startled him, scared him to think he had no true self, but after exploring the Metaverse he had come to understand: the mask he wore as Joker was just another side of himself. Two sides, light and dark, yin and yang. Everything in balance--just as it needed to be.

     But these masks held histories behind their sightless gaze, he could feel it just by looking at them. They weren’t the masks of tricksters, or rebels, or even that of a fairytale prince. They were beautiful and sad, and without even thinking about what power they had to hold Akira found himself reaching out, wanting--needing--to see them more closely. Fingertips brushed across the decayed wood of a cracked, dark mask, and instantly it felt as though someone had forced their way into his head, showing him images of a place he had never been. The air became suffocating as images played through his mind, a girl--several girls--a whirlwind of red and black, of dancing, of death and decay. Images moved so swiftly through his mind he could barely make anything out clearly, yet as quickly as they had appeared to him they stopped. Cut short, like an old projection reel on a shoddy device. Gone in the blink of an eye.

     It wasn’t until Goro spoke that Akira remembered to breathe, the flashlight that had once been in his hand somehow now in the other’s. The room was dark, but even in the dull and dingy ambient light it was painfully obvious that he was somehow even paler than usual. Dark eyes slid back into focus as though whatever trance he had entered released him from his spell, but they were still wide behind the false lenses of his glasses. Frightened. Rattled, indeed.

     “I must have...dropped my light.” His throat felt tight, his mouth oddly too dry, making it difficult to speak. Did he tell Goro what he had witnessed? Further the ghost stories that Yukiko was happily reciting to her captive audience? Or did he keep it to himself? Seeing things other people can’t see generally didn’t go over so well. Maybe he just needed to gather more information first...

     “--Can I have it back?” he asked, head cocking to one side. “Or did you want to keep it? You can have it, if it makes you feel better.”

[chikuto]

when your rivalfriend returns from rehabilitation

[noirnil]

[heartsaligned-a]

     @heavenslapse | akira is in desperate need of a nap 💤

      Even at a late hour the trains were crowded, but the car was thankfully not so full they couldn’t find a seat. Akira was beyond exhausted, dark circles shockingly visible against his pale skin. He hadn’t been sleeping very well to begin with, but his time living with Yu and Yosuke had at least made him feel better. Nightmares still plagued him, terrors clawing at him almost every time he closed his eyes, but every so often he would be tired enough to just sleep. Yet now he felt as though he were living through a different nightmare, his body growing heavier and heavier with each passing second, but try as he might he couldn’t wake up. The world had shifted overnight, and Akira felt his control rapidly fading away.

     Sumire was in trouble. Safe, for the time being, but still in trouble. His friends, on the other hand, seemed to be living their best lives, finding their true happiness in family and bonds--and not one of their perfect lives included him. Was that how they truly felt? Was he just the leader of the Phantom Thieves, a pin that held the entire machine together? Was he that easily forgotten that not one single person cared to include him in their life beyond their mission? And Yu...

     God. Where did he even start?

     Yu wasn’t just absent in his life, he was wrong, as though somehow dismantled and put back together with all the wrong parts. Not only had Akira been wiped from his memory, but Yosuke, his other half, had been erased from the equation as well. Finding Yosuke, at least, would be an easy enough task now that they realized where to look, but reuniting them and drawing them out of their false realities would not prove as easy. A part of Akira wanted to try and make it to the countryside that night, but it was already late. They could leave in the morning, and figure things out one step at a time.

     As weird as everything had become, having Akechi by his side made things somehow more manageable. He was a familiar presence, calming, sturdy, and if Akira wasn’t so emotionally wrung out he might have just started to cry thinking about him. But the day had drained him more than he could have ever possibly imagined, and soon the edges of his vision began to grow dark. The steady motion of the train, coupled with the sound of the tracks and the chatter around him was like white noise, comforting, familiar. Before he could stop himself, his head came to rest against Akechi’s shoulder, the faint hint of vanilla further relaxing him. After everything that had happened it felt as though Akira had reached his breaking point, and he didn’t want to have to think anymore for the night if he didn’t have to. Heavy eyes slid closed, and for the first time in ages he felt incredibly safe; it was just a shame the moment couldn’t last forever. 

[svnnnne]

❤️

[heartsaligned-a]

@heavenslapse​ | ann & ryuji being besties 🍰

     “I can’t believe you’ve never eaten at Shirohige’s! You’ve lived here your whole life, Ryuji! You’re gonna love it!”

     Big talk from someone who had only ever ordered them from takeaway, but once Ann had realized the dine-in location was fairly close to Leblanc she had made it her mission to get the full experience. Originally she had wanted to invite both Ryuji and Akira to join her, but since Akira seemed to already have plans, it had ended up being just the two of them. Not that Ann minded all that much. It was a good excuse to catch up with Ryuji.

     “I bet Akira eats here all the time. I would if I lived here.” And she’d have to put extra time in at the gym to compensate. Considering she barely bothered as it was, it would be a nightmare. “What flavors were you looking at? I’m kind of considering just getting one of everything that’s in season. I can always take them home if I don’t eat them all, y’know, so don’t even start with the ‘you’ll get fat’ comments.”

     Flipping through the menu, Ann glanced over the other dishes the bakery served, barely even stopping to give the actual savory options any consideration. Sometimes she had to wonder who actually ate lunch at these kinds of places. Why spend your money on pasta when there were incredible desserts right there? Sure, they were probably delicious. But they weren’t Totoro-shaped cream puffs, now were they?

     “I think I’ll get an iced coffee, too. Ooh, or maybe something with peach to match the cream puffs! But if I get the chocolate one it might be a weird combination. And there’s mango, too. Ugh! Why is this such a difficult decision?!”

[heartsaligned-a]

@heavenslapse | akira & akechi in kichijoji 🎱

     Friends were still a relatively new concept for Akira, and getting daily texts was altogether new. No one contacted him back home, no one wanted to spend time with the odd, quiet child who kept to himself. Even his parents’ considerable status had not helped his image, not when people found everything he said to be so weird. People didn’t like him. Didn’t hate him, either, but overlooked him instead. Attempts at making friends had fallen short, and as years passed Akira became more and more withdrawn, holding his emotions close to his heart and hiding behind a mask. 

     But then he had moved to Tokyo, meeting people who wanted to talk to him despite the allegations against him. He had gone from the quiet kid to the dangerous criminal, but there were others who saw something in him, who bonded with him beyond the dangers they shared. People wanted to call him, to text him, to spend time with him. For the first time, people genuinely wanted his company.

     Even Akechi, it seemed. 

     A light rain had begun to fall, and with no real plans Akira had decided to head home, carefully navigating the sea of umbrellas that opened up around him on the crowded square. But before he could reach the stairs leading to the station platform, his phone buzzed in his pocket, the screen displaying a short text--an invitation to play pool at Penguin Sniper. Almost too quickly Akira replied, changing his destination from Yongen-Jaya to Kichijoji. Desperate? No, he wouldn’t say he was. But it was, perhaps, just a little curious how quickly he answered texts when they came from Akechi.

     Despite his apparent eagerness, Akira was as calm as ever when he finally arrived, though he did offer Akechi a faint smile in greeting. Playing against such a strong opponent had been interesting, and Akira’s skill at the game had grown exponentially. Luckily his natural ability to pick things up quickly had given him an edge, but victory had proven more difficult than expected. 

     It was exciting.

     “8-ball, or 9-ball?” He paused a moment, toying with a lock of hair, lips curling into a small but fiendish little grin. “I’ll be nice and let you pick, since I’ll be the one winning today.”

[nebulotics]

a quiet

[midou-arts]

A few cuts and rips

[ai-wa]

Who is the prince now.

[beyondplusultra]

i’ll never let you go again.

[miilkcandies]

ann decora style ✨

[nnnyuuu-deactivated20160730]

[heartsaligned-a]

@heavenslapse yu & akira at a cute little café 🍓

     Aoyama wasn’t an area Akira had ever spent much time outside of school. Despite growing up with a considerable amount of money, the district made him feel weirdly out of place, as though he didn’t quite belong. The Shujin students still did their part to make him feel like that outcast, but it wasn’t just their whispers behind his back that made him feel awkward. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but his misgivings were just a tiny drop in the raging ocean of his ever-expanding problems. 

     Stress clung to him like a second skin, following him in every waking moment. His dreams, too, had begun to weigh on his soul, and as the days grew colder Akira couldn’t help but wonder what might happen if everything went wrong. He was seventeen, still a child in the eyes of the world, but too old to be considered someone to protect. Slipping through the cracks, taking on more than he could ever hope to shoulder, and looking to ease everyone’s pain all at the same time. How had the world come to rest in his hands? Why was it up to him, and just who had decided he would play the hero? The mysterious man with the long nose? Or was it something beyond that, some cruel twist of fate?

     He really had no idea what to make of it all, never had, but he had never let it stop him. These powers had come to him for a reason, and rather than let someone else take the lead, he had accepted it gracefully. Being able to help people seemed like a blessing more than a curse. There was a light inside of him that precious few people could see, but Akira could feel it growing, shining through the cracks in his armor, his mask. If he wasn’t careful he would shatter, and he knew it; one fatal misstep would destroy everything they had worked for. But he was careful, or so he thought. People needed him. How could he let them down now, after all they had been through?

     The tedious chatter of the café blended into the background as Akira poked idly at the strawberry roll cake on his plate, the entire display cloyingly sweet and extravagant. Although it wasn’t nearly as expensive as the hotel buffet he had spent time at, the ambience was similar enough to evoke unpleasant memories, bitter thoughts that turned his stomach and killed his appetite--not that he had felt particularly hungry to begin with. His usual single meal of the day had been replaced by small snacks if anything, but the slight drop in weight had gone unnoticed. A couple of pounds wasn’t very obvious on someone with Akira’s build, someone who was already a little too lean, and that small amount of weight would hardly matter if he got himself killed at the end of their next operation. So why should he worry about it? No one else seemed to be, after all.

     I should apologize, he thought, pulling the strawberry slice from the top of his whipped cream. Yu had been willing to talk to him, using his free time to meet with an odd teenager, and Akira hadn’t even been a good conversational partner. It wasn’t uncommon, of course, for Akira to remain mostly silent; he was a listener, not a talker. People vented to him about their problems, cried on his shoulder, and when they stopped for breath he would jump to say just the right thing to assuage their fears. Even the man meant to be counseling him looked to him for help. Sometimes Akira couldn’t help but wonder if he ought to become a therapist after graduating.

     The words ‘I’m sorry’, however, seemed to get stuck somewhere in his throat. Feeling more and more uneasy, Akira dropped his fork with a small clatter, earning himself a nasty look from the booth nearby. It wasn’t the first time he had been looked at as though he didn’t belong. He was sure it wouldn’t be the last 

[mintarisato-deactivated20150302]

腐向けメーンまとめ by えびすし