the stolen son

✩ kitagawa yusuke ✩ 16 | tokyo | artist I am seeking. I am striving. I am in it with all my heart.

[inkskratches]

Let. Them. Date.

[faerore]

[yourcoffeeguru]

[paintedphantom-blog]

inxquisitor:

♔ | HIS SHARP GAZE rose once more upon having the young artist respond to him, a brief flicker of surprise reflected within those crimson orbs. He partly expected to be brushed off, avoided or given a fleeting response only. The moment the notebook would be turned into his direction however, Akechi would adjust his position, enough to catch a glimpse at the other teen’s sketch. Honestly, it impressed the young detective somewhat. He for sure, couldn’t have created something like this and yet, Kitagawa didn’t seem quite proud of it.

       ( is this what artists call an art block? )

       Nonetheless, it’s interesting to look at. “I personally like it quite a bit, but I am no artist so I suppose my opinion doesn’t really matter.” It’s a shame though. His chin comes to rest on his hands, a thoughtful hum on his lips. “What may be the cause of it? What is troubling you that it keeps you from doing what you seem to be so passionate about?” Perhaps, Kitagawa just needs a new source of inspiration?

        “Would a break help you or do the opposite? It might be diffcult with your school, right? I can only imagine that the pressure put on you might be the cause for this, but I can only speak of what I see with my own eyes.” 

“A break...?” He says it as though the thought has never crossed his mind, but that isn’t true. In a few moments of weakness, he’s considered simply abstaining from art entirely for a little while in the hopes it might recharge his mental batteries, but being away from what he loves so much feels as though it would be more painful than therapeutic. Besides...

“I’m afraid that simply isn’t possible,” he says with a shake of his head, one hand rising to comb loose bangs away from his face. “If I fail to produce work of a certain standard on a regular basis, I risk losing my scholarship at Kosei. I cannot allow that to happen.”

As much as it churns his stomach to go on another day painting only with the motivation of keeping himself in good standing with the school, a slick feeling of dread weighs heavily inside him at the prospect of being thrown out of Kosei. It’s more than his current lodgings at stake, but perhaps his entire future as well. With so much holding him down- so much impurity in his heart -is it any wonder his hands falter at the canvas?

Still, in spite of that, he manages a small smile for the detective, returning his notebook to its place in front of him and resuming his sketch. It’s actually a little bit refreshing, sharing the issue with someone much more objective on the matter than his friends. He loves them dearly, but they’re too close to him to be neutral on the subject.

“Your input is appreciated, however. One does not need to be an artist to see when art is lacking, which this most certainly is.” At this point, he’s still working on it mostly because it’s already almost finished. Might as well not waste what minute progress it is, despite how soulless it feels. Maybe he can at least salvage a grade out of it for class. “Art is meant to be consumed by an audience, not simply the artist. A new perspective can be quite pleasant at times.”

[paintedphantom-blog]

*walks into art museum*

Hi I'm here to donate myself.

take me to an art museum and fuck me in the bathroom 

[nyo-koroiku]

me, in twitter:  aparently they go to the same school. 

do you know what thAT MEANS FOR ME???

[paintedphantom-blog]

smooches

yusuke.exe has stopped workingpress any key to continue

[paintedphantom-blog]

adrnin:

mishima is just as thankful for yusuke’s precise way of speaking as he is stricken by it. if yusuke had left him room to misunderstand, he would have made himself at home there. on the other hand, he can’t remember a time when he’d felt so… unscrutinized. unlike his prior male acquaintances, kitagawa doesn’t seem interested in picking him apart for letting slip that he isn’t exactly all about girls all the time. a part of him insists that yusuke’s trying to trick him into saying something self-incriminating, and that as soon as he gets too excited about this he’ll be branded a freak. it’s not a rational line of thought; he doesn’t really believe a phantom thief would befriend someone who’d do something so cruel; and he’s curious enough about yusuke to overcome the urge to sabotage his chances of actually being happy for once in his life. his renewed resolve does nothing to banish the redness blossoming over his cheeks, however. ❞i- i think… that should be fine. i mean, it’s definitely good! let’s do that!❞

“Excellent. Shall we be off, then?”

If it sounds like he’s genuinely pleased, it’s because he is. For all of Mishima’s bluster and his participation in Ryuji’s bizarre misadventures in picking up women- because yes, he’s heard all about the disaster known as Operation Maidwatch -he had struck Yusuke as being somewhat different from the others. Not quite a kindred spirit, perhaps, but something like it. He’s not really afraid of anything going wrong.

Regardless, he unfolds his arms and extends a hand to Mishima, watching him expectantly. He really is taking this date thing all the way.

“Ah, but which way do you think we should go? I’d rather not run into the others; they’d likely attempt to drag us away.”

Their mutual friends are all good people, he knows, but he’s actually quite excited about this, if he’s honest with himself. Even if it turns out Mishima has his own unusual reasons for agreeing, he’s still willing. Finding a guy actually interested in going on a date- and with himself no less -is not a thing he’s willing to think too hard about and ruin. They only have so much time in Hawaii to actually enjoy themselves, so he intends to enjoy this particular bit of good fortune for all it’s worth.

[paintedphantom-blog]

inxquisitor:

@paintedphantom || starting point.

♔ | IT’S BEEN SURPRISINGLY peaceful today. However, Leblanc has never been a place to be crowded with people in the first place. Though, you would sometimes run into a group of certain teenagers, paying a visit to the raven-haired youth that seemingly lives upstairs of the cafe. Today however, there is no sight of no one. No one but the crimson-hued detective himself and Yusuke Kitagawa. Just when the owner left to pick up on what seems to be an important call ( & from the looks of it, didn’t want akechi to hear any of it ) the brunet would pull himself out of his trail of thoughts, gloved hands still firmly locked around the steaming cup in front of him.

       His eyes were laid on the art student eventually, the case with Madarame still not forgotten yet. He briefly wondered just how much the other youth had moved on from it, if he did at all. Red orbs observed Kitagawa in silence for a while, watching those digits move along the paper and filling that sketchpad with his art. Would it be appropriate to speak up? It’s just the two of them after all.

       "May I ask what you’re currently working on, Kitagawa-kun?“

It takes him a moment to fully register he’d been spoken to, having been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that Akechi’s voice didn’t register immediately. The question about his work tenses the fingers gripped around his pencil, and he sets it down with a shake of his head. The inarticulate scribblings on the paper before him are not art; they are hardly worth being acknowledged. The stubborn weight of his art block still weighs impossibly heavy on his shoulders.

“Nothing I’m proud to show,” he answers, turning his notebook so that the detective can get a proper look despite his own displeasure. It’s not much more than a rather lovingly detailed sketch of the cafe interior. There’s even a partially-completed, somewhat human shape right about where Akechi would be sitting, and another standing behind the counter. Perhaps to the untrained eye, nothing would appear unsatisfactory, but Yusuke knew better.

“Inspiration has not been coming easily to me lately,” he continues, frowning at the notebook in his hands. How long had it been since he’d composed something meaningful? “I thought perhaps a return to basics- an illustration of something simple -would help to get me back on track, as it were. But I feel nothing.”

[pheromonecoffee]

since i can’t date either of them i’m just pretending they end up together  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[paintedphantom-blog]

Do you still hold any resentment towards Madarame?

It would be unnatural for me not to after everything he did.

He murdered my mother. He stole her very life from her, and to further stain his dirty and black heart, he stole her last painting as well and tarnished it. He turned a beautiful, pure work of true art into little more than a paltry imitation to copy and resell to line his pockets with. He may have been an honest man once in his life, but he threw all of that away when he decided to bloody his hands with murder and abuse.

I worked myself to the bone for him, foolishly thinking I was helping a man who loved and cared for me through a difficult time. He stole from me, creatively and financially, for nearly my whole life to fund his lavish lifestyle while allowing me to starve in a shack. He stole my mother’s future, and nearly stole mine, like the countless other apprentices before me he used and threw away.

Whatever kindness Madarame may have shown me growing up does not erase his vile deeds. It will never bring back my mother. I may not be able to bring myself to hate him from the depths of my heart, but I cannot bring myself to forgive him, either. I believe I will always harbor some resentment towards him.

[asksforroleplayers]

Ask my muse extremely personal questions.

[paintedphantom-blog]

“Why do you fight?”

I fight because there are terrible people who will prey on the young and the helpless for their own selfish gain. People that will use those they see as beneath them or as disposable to further their own greed and then throw them aside like garbage. Wicked-hearted people that will never stop unless someone stands up to them-- someone like me.

There are too many innocent victims devoured by the twisted desires of selfish adults that will never see justice served, not by the police nor at the hands of society at large. They will be swept under the rug, forgotten, and forced to live a miserable life while those who abused them live in luxury. It is unacceptable.

I fight so nobody else ever has to experience the suffering I have, or that of my comrades. I will fight for their justice to my very last breath.

[scum2000]

nothing turns me on more than someone who sincerely cares about me and who directly communicates their intentions

[paintedphantom-blog]

I would fight for you if you would fight for me.

It catches him off guard, being told something like that so openly. It’s a sentiment he’s not quite used to, being someone worth fighting for. Until recently, perhaps the only person in the world who ever truly felt that way about him had been dead for so long, Yusuke could scarcely remember her. Madarame had only cared about his value as a tool to be used for his own benefit, and his peers at Kosei wouldn’t even speak to him.

But there was Akira, turning all of his doubts on their head as effortlessly as always. Whatever his intentions, it was reassuring to feel once again that he still had a place in this world, and something most certainly worth fighting for. Something besides their justice; something just as important to him. Perhaps moreso.

“For you, I would gladly fight to my very last breath.”

There’s nothing insincere about it, and saying it aloud only strengthens his resolve. Yusuke really wouldn’t be here without him; the debt he owes is too great to ever be fully repaid, though he isn’t motivated by a feeling of obligation. This is where he wants to be, and this is a promise he gives freely to someone of great value to him. Without hesitation or regret, he would fight alongside him to the bitter end.

“So please continue to stand by me. You will always be able to count on me, no matter what. On this, you have my word.”

[paintedphantom-blog]

I think I’m dying. (over exaggeration)

“Our great and noble leader perishing at the hands of an errant heat wave. Fate can be so cruel.”

It’s hard not to smile at Akira’s theatrics. Not that he has to try all that hard to get Yusuke to smile in general, but the amusement he gets at watching Akira lay splayed out across his bed as if truly in danger of dying is too apparent to hide. It’s certainly gotten hot and stuffy in the cafe’s attic, but not dangerously so. Still, Yusuke can play along.

“You can’t go dying just yet, you know. Who will lead us should you pass away so soon? I doubt any of us would be as capable as you.”

He’s keeping it lighthearted, but it’s not as though the thought of Akira dying hasn’t occurred to him before-- as much as he would rather never think of such a thing. When their goals involve them regularly putting their lives on the line in the Metaverse, the realization that someone could easily be killed isn’t a hard one to reach.

“Besides,” he continues, rising from his position on the couch to cross the room and instead sit on the edge of the bed. It’s a little too hot in here to be this close to someone else, but he’s never been very good at keeping away. “You are quite important to me, so do try not to die. In fact, I’m forbidding it. You are simply not allowed to die.”

He’s... only kind of joking. It’s not a rule he can actually enforce, obviously, and Akira certainly won’t live forever, but it helps put out of his mind the uncertain possibility that something terrible could happen when they least expect it. He’s had enough of those closest to him meeting unfortunate, unstoppable demises. He can’t lose this one, too.