sareles
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“Ship is short for relationship. It’s essentially the fans’ theory—or fantasy—of you and Akira being… together.”
“Together?”
“Together together,” Ann clarifies.
“Together together?!”
Futaba doesn’t look up from her laptop. “They want you to bone.”
***
In which the Phantom's lead singer discovers a new side of their fanbase, and maybe their theories aren't that far off.
Bookmarked by sareles
25 Dec 2025
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Somewhere along the road, the Phantom Thieves have failed to realise that no one ever actually told Sumire their past with Goro Akechi.
Their reaction to his murdery sense of humour makes a lot more sense in hindsight. Oh well.Bookmarked by sareles
25 Dec 2025
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“I’ve always found braids to be quite beautiful,” Yusuke says from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. “The practice dates back thousands of years, you know. If you don’t mind, I’d love to sketch the two of you. The intimacy of carding your hands through another’s hair—"
“Dude, gross,” Ryuji groans, cheeks flushing. “I don’t wanna think about Akira getting intimate. Thanks, but no thanks.”
Goro’s mind turns unbidden to the thought of Akira running his hand through Goro’s hair—a soft, tender motion, filled with passion rather than platonic affection. I wonder if he’s that kind of lover, Goro thinks. Maybe he is. Or maybe he’s the sort of lover who’d grab a fistful of my hair and-
“Calm down, Ryuji, nobody’s getting intimate,” Ann says, already pulling an elastic out of her hair. Get it together, he thinks.
(Or: Akira starts braiding the girls' hair, much to Goro's seething displeasure. Fortunately, Goro just needs to wait his turn.)
Bookmarked by sareles
10 Dec 2025
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“That’s okay.” Akira rubs his chin in mock thought. “Why would you spill your guts to me? We just met. You don’t even know my name.” Akechi’s eye twitches. His mouth opens in protest, but Akira beats him to the next punch. “I’m Akira Kurusu.” He sticks his hand out across the bar.
Goro stares at the hand, shocked into silence.
For a moment, they don’t breathe. The air crackles, and the TV hums in the background, and somewhere, a pedestrian shouts, and somewhere else, someone honks their car horn, the world continuing on and on in an endless waterfall of mundanities—but the air in Leblanc crackles.
Finally, Goro reaches forward. His gloved hand slots against Akira’s own, leather cold and damp.
“My name is Goro Akechi. It’s nice to meet you, Akira Kurusu.”
(Or: “Wait a second. You’ve just been, what, LARPing as strangers?” Futaba stares at him. “With Goro-goddamn-Akechi?”)
Bookmarked by sareles
09 Dec 2025
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His knees hurt from sitting on the tile; his head hurts from the nonstop pounding; his entire body is sweating profusely while also feeling as though it’s about to freeze to death. He sheds his dress shirt and tie before stumbling through the doorway to the bed and collapsing, curling up into a ball. The uncomfortable feeling of his sheets touching skin is reviling, but overpowered by the sheer fatigue dragging his soul down.
Akechi falls asleep to the sound of his own heavy breathing. The messy, quiet apartment might as well be housing a corpse instead of a human being.
Or, Ren nursing Akechi back to health.
Bookmarked by sareles
08 Dec 2025