unn4tural
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Zenkichi’s job would be easier if Kurusu was merely a heartless freeloader relying on his quick wit or good look, because then he would have absolutely no qualms of conscience about arresting the kid after he was done using him.
Or: Akira and his Dad-collecting anecdote.
Bookmarked by unn4tural
13 Jul 2026
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“I’m sorry, Akira…We’ll stop if you don’t wanna…” Ryuji said, looking like a kicked puppy.
“What? No—it’s not that. I um, we’ll make a mess of the water if we stay in the tub.” Akira then turned around and bent himself over, grapping onto the edge of the tub to support his upper body while exposing his bare backside to his boyfriend. “If we’re going to continue, we should do it properly…I mean, if you’re still up for it.”
He didn’t need to look to know Ryuji’s face lit up once again.
Bookmarked by unn4tural
13 Jul 2026
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Akira doesn’t fall immediately. He stumbles forwards with a pained gasp, eyes searching around from beneath the mask until their eyes meet. The leader’s mouth moves, possibly to call out Ryuji's name but no more sound comes out, the word stuck at the back of his throat.
Then like a puppet with its strings cut, he collapses on his side with a thud.
Bookmarked by unn4tural
13 Jul 2026
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Akira was tired. And when he was tired like this—the way he hadn’t been in months—he laid down and stayed down for a day or two. Unless someone or something intervened. That was how it worked—these moments. They ended, or didn’t, but eventually they would fizzle out and Akira would get back up. Be normal again. But this was different than all the other times Akira laid down on his bed and did nothing. This was a moment that lasted hours, where he thought about everything and nothing. But more importantly, a moment where he thought about November, and what would happen in one week.
(or: akira knows. he thinks everyone else must know, too.)
Bookmarked by unn4tural
10 Jul 2026
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you’ll exceed all my expectations and murder me, too by SpeedingCheetah
Fandoms: Persona 5
21 Oct 2025
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Summary
Akira was looking at his hands and couldn’t understand why there was so much blue. His hands were cold, and shaking, and his teeth were chattering. The whole room was blanketed with fog. Something bad had happened, but he couldn’t remember what. His sides ached, and every motion jostled him—pain climbed up his ribs and bit him gently on the shoulder.
(or: there’s no blood, this time.)
Series
- Part 17 of whumptober 2025
Bookmarked by unn4tural
09 Jul 2026