#mod maruki

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Hey what if I revived this blog

Haha, just kidding

…Unless?

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The homework went well!

Okay so here’s the official request now that it’s been approved! What Pokémon team would you give Akira/Ren (I forgot what the official name given was) if he was living in Pokémon world like an au?

What region would you assume he grew up in/lives in currently? (Up to you to pick which region and which time of his life you want to specify on to answer this.)

Have a great day, and I hope your returning to this blog brings you as much joy as I get from reading your writing.

Technically Ren is the 'canon' name, but Akira is also official and it's the one we use here because it sounds better :)

But as for his team, I'm thinking something like this?

I could see Honchkrow being his Ace, even if Honchkrow itself is often described as a bad boss to its Murkrow flocks, contrary to Joker. Ditto for Falinks and Bisharp, I appreciate a good 'leader of the squad' motif.

Kecleon has Colour Change, which I feel like fits to the adaptability that Persona protagonists come with on principle.

Klefki feels obvious. Y'know, lockpicking, keys, you get it.

And Purrloin. Like, duh, right?

As for region, I could see him growing up somewhere more quiet and podunk like Johto or Hoenn before being shipped off to a bigger city. Tempted to say Lumiose in Kalos, but Castelia in Unova also sounds correct

Also there were a few other Pokemon I considered that didn't quite make it. Tinkaton was tempting for the predatory nature it has on Corviknight, which in my head is Akechi's Ace, but I also don't like Tinkaton very much so *eh*

Something from the Impidimp line also feels on brand, because I feel like a Fairy/Dark type would vibe for Akira, but I just straight up hate the Impidimp line.

And then Zorrark also felt like a good fit, but A), I wanted Akira's team to have at least a little bit of type diversity, and B), upon thinking about it more, Zorrark really feels more like an Akechi Pokemon than an Akira one, yk?

[imagine-the-phantom-thieves]

Imagine Akira Kurusu/Ren Amamiya's pregnant wife craving for curry.

Akira Kurusu

“Akiiiii.” You whined, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Hmm?” He hummed out in response, finishing up with washing the dishes. 

“I think we should have curry tonight.” 

“We had curry last night.” He said, so matter-of-factly as he put away the last dish.

“Well,” Your brow furrowed as you tried to get a foothold on the argument. “Akane wants it again. She had it, and now she wants it more. She told me.”

“She told you?” He asked, fighting a genuine urge to just burst out into a fit of giggles through your explanation. 

“YEAH.” You said, slightly exasperated, as if you were explaining basic addition to him. “You can listen; she’ll tell you.” His expression amused, Akira crouched down and set an ear against your stomach, listening for the demands of your unborn child. 

“I’m not hearing anything, S/o.” 

“Father, please…” You muttered under your breath in the most child-like voice you could muster. “I crave the curry. I demand it.” You could hear him snickering. “It is the price you must pay for bringing me into this mortal coil!” 

“Now honey,” He stood back up, rolling his shoulders. “If I recall correctly, last time you caved to something ‘Akane’ was craving…” You instinctively winced, knowing where he was going. “You set a toaster on fire. Then you told me, then I-”

“Took the toaster outside and pelted it with snow until the fire went out.” You finished. He’d told the infamous toaster story to pretty much every mutual friend you had. You didn’t blame him, per se. In hindsight it was kind of hilarious, but you also wouldn’t complain if you didn’t hear it again until you were telling Akane about it on like, you didn’t know, her 6th birthday, maybe?

“So, I have reason to believe that it’d be best if you didn’t handle ‘her’ cravings anymore.” 

Your expression looked like he just told you he killed your family. 

“I already can’t have the coffee- you’re seriously telling me you’re banning curry, too?”

“What? No, no.” He turned you around, wrapping you in a back hug. “Why would I do that? That’s criminal.” There was a brief pause. “...Even for me.” You started giggling at that. Good, ideal response. “But all I’m saying is I want to make it for you, to stop any more incidents.” 

You faintly grumbled something about not meaning to make any incidents in the first place before succumbing to his fairly simple request. 

“Fine, fine…” You mumbled. 

Akira smiled, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“Thank you, hon. I’ll have some whipped up before you know it.”

[imagine-the-phantom-thieves]

“ i need to get you warm. listen, you’re gonna want to go to sleep, but i can’t let you do that, okay? just stay with me, stay with me—! ” with a thief of your choosing?

Hey! I’m back! With writing I don’t think I did a good job on! Hooray!

Anyway I hope this is good, and I hope I can go back to a semi-regular schedule. Please bear with me!

- Mod Maruki

Akira Kurusu

Mementos was unpredictable, this was just a fact of your life. You were used to tripping over weird distortions that you were sure weren’t there a moment ago, and you were used to either watching some of your teammates sink to lower floors or being one of the ones forced down. 

You just weren’t used to being one of only two brought down. 

Panicking, you ran your hands through your hair, pacing back and forth wondering what to do. Relatively speaking, you were fine. 

You were fine. 

What worried you was Akira. Normally, he was pretty resilient, but a Rising Slash here, a Ziodyne there, topping off with a Bufudyne and you have yourself someone nearly at his breaking point. 

You were gentle with him, guiding him down to the first safe room you could find. He seemed grateful to be able to sit. You had tied a shred of his tailcoat around his waist a while ago, if only to stop any bleeding. His breathing was ragged and he slumped in his seat immediately. 

No Morgana meant no healing, no Makoto meant that that shock was staying put, and no Ann meant no fi…

Fire.

He was freezing, of course warming him up should have been a priority. Quickly, you whipped off your overcoat and draped it over him. Seeing him beginning to drift, your panic only peaked. 

“I- Look- I need to get you warm.” You held onto his head, forcing him to look up to you. “Listen, you’re gonna want to go to sleep, but I can’t let you do that, okay? Just stay with me- Stay with me-!” You found yourself going quiet as Akira reached a hand up and gently rested it on your cheek.

“[Y/n]... You’re… You’re hyperventilating…” 

You gripped onto his wrist, your entire body shivering. His skin felt cool to the touch, with only the faintest signs of life ebbing from deep within his core. Your jaw was tight as you dove to his torso, trying to keep him as warm as possible. 

“Who cares about that right now?!” You cried out, keeping yourself firmly around his waist. “I just need you to keep it together for now, okay Joker?”

After a beat of silence, your grip loosened. 

“...Joker?” You sat up, quickly resting your hands along his jaw. “Akira?!” Your hands fell down to his jacket collar, grip tightening around the fabric. “C’mon, Aki. This isn’t the time for something like this!” 

You stopped, falling to complete silence. Your breathing was shaky as you tried to force yourself to accept the very real situation in front of you. Slowly, you rested your head against his chest. 

After long enough of panic, it was soothed only a little by his quiet, slow pulse. He was clinging on, but not by much.

You relegated yourself to simply remaining around his waist. Just keep calm, you told yourself. Keep calm, eventually the rest would find you, and he would be fine, you told yourself. 

You couldn’t cry. No crying ‘til the end, that’s what he would tell you. But this could be his end. It could be his end, and it would be your fault. 

Keep it together, you told yourself. Keep it together.

[imagine-the-phantom-thieves]

Okay first of all, let’s pretend it’s still 6/2. Second of all this was all written in one sitting in like, three hours. I’m very tired and don’t want get beta reads done. This is all to say I’m very sorry if this all sounds like a wack fever dream. Happy Birthday, Goro, his gift is angst.

Goro Akechi Goro could only find himself absent-mindedly rubbing the back of his gloved hand with his thumb after he had told his newly assigned partner to take a look at the scene they had been given to look at.

He found himself thinking about it more and more lately, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. Though he still remembered it like it was yesterday. 

They way you had wandered into the cafe that night, almost as if you were lost. You had talked to the man at the counter for quite a while, asking if this was the only store of the chain in the area, if he recalled correctly. After you had gotten whatever response you were looking for, you politely bowed and tried to make your way to a table in the back.

You tried.

It just so happened that the bag you had slung over your shoulder was just low enough to knock over the Ace Detective’s cup of coffee.

His cup of piping. Hot. Coffee.

You were quick to pick up on what happened, trying your best to help clean up the table, while he had run off to the establishment’s washroom to cool the burn his hand sustained. 

The second he returned to his table, he found himself bombarded with apologies from you. He later found out that you hadn’t even registered who you had spilled coffee on, something he had found endearing, to a degree. You had even offered him a new one, if it would make it up to him. 

Now, he had plenty of time to stew and steep potential anger. He had been holding the burn under water for almost 20 minutes, after all. But he didn’t. Of course, there were traces of a tranquil fury laced deep in his words, but he really tried not to let it show. 

You noticed, but didn’t hold it against him. 

What you also noticed was how long you’d ended up conversing with him. It was something that didn’t take long for him to pick up on, considering how your mood so suddenly soured. 

Against his better judgement, he asked what was wrong.

You had explained that you had been set up on a date with this guy and he was supposed to have shown up over half an hour ago at that point. You were pretty sure he flaked, and you didn’t blame him for it. The next thing he knew, you were apologizing again, rationalizing that a stranger probably wouldn’t care about your personal problems, especially after scalding their hand.

Yet he still let you sit at the table.

He couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe it was pity, maybe it was intrigue, though that seemed unlikely at the time, but most likely, he was just bored. Thinking back on it, he could only figure that it was a mix of the first and last, but upon further reflection, he only concluded that he had a quiet yearn for companionship on top of it. 

Generally, he tried to steer the direction of the conversation, as if he was testing you, carefully watching how you responded to his questions. The way your forehead would crease in thought or how your thumb would occasionally twitch as you spoke. 

Luckily, he found himself enjoying the night, despite the burn.

What he really didn’t expect was that he would see you again, and so soon on top of that. 

Oddly enough, you’d seemed more shy about approaching him when you saw him again. His confusion only worsened it. Very quietly you explained that you enjoyed the time you spent with him so much that you were hoping you’d be able to talk again. 

Again, he let you stay at the table. 

While he had seen it as a mild inconvenience at first, he found himself appreciating it more and more as your odd spontaneity helped break up the monotony of his life, if only by a little. 

It was just over a couple weeks of this before you asked him if you could call him your friend and vice-versa. 

He had paused in thought for a moment when you had asked, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t worried you overstepped your boundaries. After what had felt like an eternity, he had agreed.

Both of you had started going out to places other than the cafe you were so familiar with, though his favourite places in Kichijoji and general walks were the most common ways you spent time together. 

Gifts weren’t a common exchange, but you had given him a sizable bottle of multivitamins, mentioning that with his busy lifestyle you wanted to make sure that he was still getting everything he needed. From what you’d seen, his diet seemed rather lackluster to begin with, but topping it with a full time job and all the stress that would induce seemed like a disaster. 

It was one of the nicest things someone had done for him, if he was being honest.

He didn’t do much when it came to recounting personal tales, that was more up your alley. He’d heard a lot about the personal dramas you’d faced in school, ‘he saids, she saids’ and all that. If you ever asked him if anything was on his mind, he had always thought carefully about his reply. He had brought up things about his upbringing now and again, but more often than not, he simply flipped the question back to you. Sometimes you’d ignore the fact that he was deflecting, dropping the subject entirely.

However, as the time you spent together increased, he found himself only growing more concerned with himself. He found himself relishing in the sound of your laughter, admiring the way your smile etched across your face, and finding your smaller habits, like the way you jutted out your bottom lip just a tad when you were in thought genuinely adorable. This wasn’t helped by how he noticed his chest begin to tighten when your hand ghosted just over his. 

It came to a point where he would go for a few days without even texting you, no matter how much you had asked what was going on, as if just ignoring the situation would make it go away. It didn’t. He had always come back merely days later, dismissing it as work. You accepted it, but only asked that he let you know if he could help it.

It was something he soon found himself doing by reflex. 

He had decided that the only way to be able to calm down from his dilemma was to simply confess. Even if you had rejected his affections, he wouldn’t be mad; it would just be a better excuse to forget about it. 

There was just one teensy, weensy, itty-bitty niggling little issue. 

That was the news you had for him on the same day.

It was still cold as the air of February hadn’t quite warmed up to make way for the gentle warmth of March. You had told him about how your college plans had come through for you, and that starting the next coming spring you’d be studying across the country, over in Yamaguchi. He felt conflicted, to say the least. On one hand, no more you, which means he could just bury his feelings and never have to think about them again, probably forever. On the other, no more you. Your actual move was only going to be in a couple days, with most of your belongings on their way to your new flat. 

His silence that didn’t let up had been making you worried, but there wasn’t really anything you could say to break it. You stood up from the bench you shared and briefly dug around in your bag, voice quiet against the crisp air.

“I know this is late, but if I don’t give it to you now, I don’t know when I will.” 

He opened the small gift only to find just under a dozen small chocolates all neat into two rows. Slowly, he popped one in his mouth, noticing the subtle coffee flavour. Cute.

The awkward feeling never subsided. Conversations were never as intricate as they had been as of late. It was obvious he was trying to avoid the situation. In a silent, mutual agreement, you both decided to call it quits early. 

“Will you be there to see me off tomorrow?”

As much as it pained him, he said yes. 

He felt warm when he came home the next day. He spent the better part of the morning with you at the train station, you could tell he was trying to save face, but you were glad he was at least feigning excitement for you. 

You had told him the basic plan: You’d be train hopping around for a while, but come late evening a friend in the area would be driving you the rest of the way. At his insistence, you promised to give him a call as soon as you could. As your train pulled up, you had got Goro’s attention for just a moment before you caught his lips in a quick, chaste kiss. 

And just like that, you were gone. 

He had felt dazed, fingers ghosting over his lips. 

It had felt just as nice- just as right as he had always imagined. 

When he got home, he could only chuckle to himself as he noticed the sudden barrage of texts from you he’d received just after the train left. Mostly just apologies about how uncalled for the kiss had been, how you had just been absorbed in the moment, and so on.

That didn’t change the fact that your heart was racing a mile a minute for the entirety of your first train ride.

It was that night that he decided to finally attempt to settle the waters. He had spent longer than he’d like to admit typing up an email- lord if he knew if you still had phone service way out there- laying all the cards on the table. How he found himself beyond infatuated with you, which was something entirely new to him, how he wanted to tell you everything and he wasn’t even sure why- he just wanted to, needed, even. That you made his heart race more than anyone else ever had. Coffee burns aside, even having you as a close friend would be all he needed, but being more would almost be too much for him to bear. 

Though, he quickly realized something odd.

It was late, beyond late. You said you would call when you got to your new flat. 

Completely forgetting the email in the moment, he grabbed his phone and called your cell.

It rang, it rang, it rang…

And then to voicemail. 

Well, that was fine, you probably just weren’t around your phone, that makes sense, you were probably just unpacking. 

Of course checking the news probably wouldn’t…

Oh dear. 

Goro quickly found himself hyperventilating as he found many news articles all within the past few hours. His stomach twisted as it became clearer that it was all for a train derailment, one of your trains. The reports of a handful of deaths did nothing to ease him. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise then when he finally had access to the police reports of the derailment that you were recorded as one of the few deaths in the accident. 

He had just stopped functioning for a while. He became more and more of a recluse, barely even talking to fellow classmates or coworkers unless he was forced to. While he got to where he was going to be, climbing up the ladder of his career, something didn’t sit right. Perhaps it had to do with not having anyway to be able to share it with.

Just the idea of the world ripping away the only person he could confidently call a friend had driven him to such a bleak outlook so fast. 

Though come to think of it…

He never did send that email, did he?

“Uh, ...sir? Sir?” 

Hearing his subordinate calling to him, Goro had finally snapped back to reality, thumb still on the back of his hand. 

“Yes? What is it?” 

They scrambled a bit with the points they had jotted down, shifting from heel to heel as they brought up each point.

“Well, we’ve found some hair on the victim’s carpet that doesn’t match theirs in the slightest, and forensics did a quick run through and found some unidentified bloodstains and fingerprints around the scene of the crime.”

“Ah, alright then. Bring it to the station and we’ll see if we have matches for the prints.” 

“Yessir!” They had sputtered out, almost a little too fast. “Uhm, by the way, sir…” Seeing Goro glance over told the younger investigator that his superior had heard their mumbles. “Is everything okay? You seem out of it today…” 

“Hm? Oh, that? It’s…” He paused, looking away. “It’s nothing. Just thinking about what could have been, is all.”

[imagine-the-phantom-thieves]

Genuine Question

How should I be referring to Sumire in imagines?

Like, referring to her by her actual name seems like walking spoiler territory, but I’ll feel weird calling her Kasumi, y’know?

[imagine-the-phantom-thieves]

May I have some fluffy headcannons for Akira please?

Did You Know? 

Akira is actually one of my least favourite character’s to write for because of how inconsistent his character is depending on who you ask, so, we’re just winging it now, oops.

- Mod Maruki

Akira Kurusu

%100 expect playful flirting all the time, it’s his bread and butter.

Always smells comforting, though that may be due to lingering scents of coffee and curry seasoning. 

Enjoys giving little pecks to the top of your head. He can’t put his finger on why, it’s just an intimacy he has a soft spot for.

Also more of a cuddler than one would anticipate. Really likes being big spoon and nuzzling into your hair.

Lots of lingering touches.

You could be snuggling together and he’d just gently drag his fingers over your abdomen or tracing patterns with no beginning or end onto your arms.

Or, he’ll just be waiting at the train station with you, and even when you have to go you can still feel his fingertips looming over your palm.

I mean, overall handholding is just good. Like, holding his hand in your pocket in cold weather? Perfect.

Also hand kisses, that too. 

He just likes your hands. 

Akira also has a habit of initiating fun little dances in the kitchen with his s/o early in the morning. 

He’s a pretty big sucker for some more cliche romantic situations, though out of all of them kisses in the rain are top tier for him.

Also!! Kabedons!! 

He does them all the time!

Mostly just to fluster you though. You look cute when you’re flustered. 

Pair that with the previously mentioned head smooches and his mood automatically improves. It’s just really cute to him.

[imagine-the-phantom-thieves]

Could you do “you lied to me” with akira? I appreciate how you work a lot !!

It’s ya girl. Back with mediocre at best writing because she lacks confidence in her ability to write compelling pieces, big yikes.

Anyway we’ve officially started the angst thing, I’m only two weeks and 70+ followers late, hoo-ray.

- Mod Maruki

Akira Kurusu

You tried to be optimistic when Sojiro seemed to actively ward you away from LeBlanc on Valentine’s Day. You really did. He had told you he had just forgotten the date, hung out with Ryuji for the day. It was a stretch, but you’d take it for now. 

However, your suspicions began to raise as more of your friends had come to you, asking about him. Makoto, Ann, Sumire and Haru had all asked you if you’d seen Akira anywhere yesterday, and much to your befuddlement, when you asked if giving him their courtesy chocolate on the 14th would give a mixed message, each and every one had told you that it simply wasn’t courtesy. 

Which led back to LeBlanc immediately after school. 

Sojiro wasn’t an idiot, he could read the room, so when he heard those traces of tranquil fury in your voice as you greeted him all he did was prep a cup of coffee for you and set it on the bar counter. 

“Can you at least tell me who it was?” 

Sojiro stayed quiet, not looking you in the eye. 

“...A woman who just works around the corner. I’m pretty sure she didn’t know about any of you, either.”

You nodded. You didn’t blame her for your predicament, poor taste wouldn’t even begin to describe it.

“I’m back.” Slowly, you looked over to Akira, the chime of the front door punctuating the greeting. He froze as he realized who exactly was waiting for him. 

“Welcome back, Akira.” You had said, tone cold as ice. “Not to pry, but where were you yesterday?” You dropped any idea of trying to play nice with him now, only wanting answers. 

“Uhhh…” He paused, briefly glancing back and forth between you and Sojiro, as if asking the older man for help, only getting the cold shoulder in return. “I.. was just spending time with Ryuji.” 

“Hmm.” You hummed, staring into the depths of your half-finished coffee. “And where were you…?” 

Still standing in the doorway, he mulled over the question. He knew he was taking too long to answer it, but if he was Sojiro, what would he have said? Gently, he gnawed on his tongue before giving his answer, probably more confidently than he should have.

“Ogikubo. Got ramen together.” 

Again you hummed. “How odd. That’s not what I heard. I heard you were at the fishing pond in Ichigaya.” You glanced up at Sojiro, voice soft, much more gentle than the tone you’d been using with Akira. “Could you give us a minute?” 

The older man nodded, mentioning something about going to get another pack of cigs while he was out. You didn’t know how much of his statement held true, but it didn’t matter, he left without complaint either way.

“You lied to me, Akira.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him looking around, as if trying to think of a reasonable excuse to leave. “Sit. Down.” 

With a moment’s hesitation, he sat at one of the bar seats next to you. 

“Do you know why I was so in love with you to begin with?” You asked, still refusing to even look at him. You were treated to silence. “Akira?” You had asked once more, before hearing his quiet response of ‘no’, 

“It was because you were the person I trusted most. The way you held me close after I confessed, the genuine look of happiness on your face, it made me optimistic. It made me go ‘oh, this is a person I could see myself spending my life with.’” Your grip on the ceramic mug tightened. You wouldn’t let yourself cry for him. Not now. “But now? Now there’s at least five others, and that’s only what I know about. For all I know any girl I see could be some other poor thing wrapped around your finger.” You let out a shaky breath. “Did you just think you could juggle it personally because it would be long distance before you knew it?” You shook your head, trying to keep calm. “Was I the first, even?” 

He nodded.

And somehow, that made you feel worse.

There was a period of uncomfortable silence. It was far longer than he would’ve wanted it to be, but eventually you broke it again, finally coming to the best conclusion you could think of.

“Consider this goodbye, Akria.” 

He looked shocked. 

“Wait, but, I’m not going to be leaving for another month.” His tone seemed sincere, but that didn’t change much.

“And? Don’t come looking for me when you go off to say all of your goodbyes. I don’t want to be a part of it- a part of you anymore.” 

He didn’t have a reply. 

You slid 3000 yen on the counter- grossly overpaying for your single cup of coffee. In response to seeing his puzzled glance, you merely mumbled something about letting Sojiro keep the change- you loved LeBlanc, it’s coffee, it’s atmosphere, and you knew that Sojiro was someone you could trust, so giving him a few extra dollars was the least you could do. 

Having a firm grip on your bag and took one last glance at Akira before leaving the cafe, accepting that your relationship with him was something that would be tarnished, perhaps not forever, but for a long, long time, you were certain.