Fandoms
- Persona 5 (3)
Recent works
-
Tags
Summary
Nevertheless, he felt a little sick that night, somehow dreading coming back home. Maybe it was the insomnia, maybe the lack of a companion–a true one–the entire day. As much as he loved working with Sae, they can get into some heated arguments sometimes and Akechi didn’t need that on his already overfilled plate. It wasn't that, however, that was not what kept him up–tossing and turning on his bed.
It was you.
Series
-
feeling like a face in the crowd (i’m reaching for you, terrified.) by aphrodict
Fandoms: Persona 5
25 Aug 2024
Tags
Summary
Detective Prince, Goro Akechi. National superstar celebrity, Goro Akechi.
Goro Akechi and his shaggy brown hair, dark red eyes that haunt you in your sleep. His charming personality built for the tv, his words deep enough to ring in your mind.
Unsurprisingly, you’ve fallen in love with your best friend. Who, coincidentally, is also the same Goro Akechi that everyone adores.
Series
-
Tags
Summary
wherein he realizes that he's fallen in love with you.
— c. akira, akechi, ryuji, yusuke
— gn!reader
Recent series
-
- Words:
- 2,596
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 1
Recent bookmarks
-
One unsheathed knife must glint in an alternate timeline’s light by silverid
Fandoms: Persona 5
23 Jul 2024
Tags
Summary
Akechi finds a cardboard box in Akira’s bedroom, filled to the brim with black leather gloves. They sit in neat rows, folded over each other like nesting animals. All the same, all— All right-handed. There are no matching pairs; only the same garment, repeated ad infinitum.
Akechi picks one up, hands shaking. He already knows how familiar the glove is going to feel.
It’s his. They all are.
For Shuake Week, Day 2: Time Travel
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,402
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 26
- Kudos:
- 295
- Bookmarks:
- 59
- Hits:
- 1,954
Bookmarked by aphrodict
23 Jul 2024
Bookmarker's Notes
Akechi places a firm hand on his chest. Akira’s heart thumps under his fingers, just as frantic as before. “I want to,” he reaffirms, chasing the last of the horror from Akira’s face. “But this isn’t the right time.” It’s too late, too painful to open this wound now; to rip open the hasty stitches keeping them both from bleeding out on the attic floor.
Akira’s face crumples like tissue paper, crestfallen. “It never is,” he whispers, his sad little smile trembling.