DuskMonarch
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Summary
He refused to leave Akechi here to fucking die in the bowels of his asshole father's ship. He'd give anything. He'd beg, he'd pray, he'd switch places with him, he didn't care, just please, someone—
"I have the strength you seek, voleur de coeurs, but your heart is not yet prepared to hold me."
Agony pulsed from his temples and lanced down his spine, thorns lodging between every column. Fire seared through his veins, charring into his fingertips. He choked on smoke and ash in his lungs.
Akira dropped in time with the gunshots he didn't hear over the sound of his own screaming. His knees cracked against the ground.
He remembered this sensation.
This was so much worse than Arsene.
I say: "Watch me save him."
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"Arsene." Loki hitched his fanged greatsword on his shoulder. "God of Shadow." His voice lilted at the end, just shy of a question.
Akira smiled, because that wasn't true. It wasn't a lie, either.
"Loki," he returned, rather than admit he didn't know. Not his own dominion, and certainly not Loki's.
"What's your name?"
Not his title or god-name, the one mortals knew. The one that was more true than any epithet, and certainly not something his enemy should know.
"Akira."
"Akira," Loki repeated the name slowly, testing the sound. His voice dripped down Akira's spine.
Loki smiled, sharper than his sword, and Akira hoped it was because he enjoyed the taste of his name and not because he saw Akira tremble.
"And yours?"
Loki laughed, dropping into a crouch and ready to lunge, sword still indolently slung on his shoulder. "Why don't you try and deserve it?"
Series
- Part 1 of Become as Gods
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The bell rung above him, the last time for a long time—
"Huh... Kid, wait!" Sojiro held up a plain envelope from his stack. "This one's addressed to you." He flipped it around, squinting. "No return address, though."
He took the offered envelope, looking it over.
The handwriting…
Akira viciously smothered the hope, because it was impossible. No matter how similar it looked to case notes and essays seen in brief, upside-down flashes across the counter before his attention was drawn away by gloved hands wrapping around a coffee mug and the glint of wine eyes.
His heart beat a staccato rhythm against his chest despite himself, uncaring of how devastating this would be if he was wrong.
He slid his finger beneath the envelope's lip, gently tearing it open. Inside was a small piece of paper. It held one sentence, scrawled in blue ink.
'Hold onto my glove.'Series
- Part 3 of The Inherent Intimacy of Sleep
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"I'm… having trouble sleeping," Akira admitted lowly, kicking at a pebble beneath his shoe. "In general."
He glanced up as the silence hung a moment too long, ready for his dismissal, and saw an internal war taking place behind Akechi's eyes instead.
Finally, "Come with me." and Akechi turned on a heel and marched away.
Akira blinked, caught off guard. Akechi didn't turn to check Akira was doing as tasked, so sure that he would. Akira smiled fondly. Akechi's choice surprised him, but it was far from unwelcome.
He jogged to catch up, settling at Akechi's side. He didn't even think to ask where Akechi was leading him, just… content to be at his side again.
Series
- Part 2 of The Inherent Intimacy of Sleep
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He never fell asleep around other people. Especially not in a cafe attic that didn't even have a door, let alone a lock, with
the boy he was to killhis rival singing just feet away. People weren't safe. Kurusu wasn't, couldn't be, an exception.Goro's book fell from his hands into his lap. He barely noticed, lashes fluttering shut with the determination to stay that way. He tilted sideways, head far too heavy to hold up a second longer. His descent slowed by pillows until he was flat against the bed, the world fell away.
Series
- Part 1 of The Inherent Intimacy of Sleep
Recent series
Recent bookmarks
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give me something pretty to wear beneath my blood-stained clothes by lonelyshrike
Fandoms: Persona 5
06 May 2024
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Akira’s arrival at the manor is precipitated by a downpour. It is a frightening gale, the kind that makes even the sturdiest of foundation’s tremble. It feels like an omen, one that is desperate to be heard before the one it was meant for befell a great tragedy. It is then quite a surprise that the man who knocks upon the manor’s door appears as harmless as a drowned cat.
The lord of the manor is the one who answers. Perhaps, had the figure taking shelter beneath the eaves been able to think of more than the cold turning blue his trembling lips, he would have considered how odd it was to be greeted by such an esteemed figure when he was nothing more than an uninvited guest on a dark, stormy night. As it was, he could do nothing but blink away the rain drops that clung to his dark lashes and through chattering teeth plead, “May his gracious lord grant me shelter for the night?”
Bookmarked by DuskMonarch
13 Jun 2026
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“Crow,” Kurusu says. It’s the most he’s said since they activated the MetaNav. They’re alone together; the last two Thieves yet to climb inside the cat-shaped clown car.
“Joker,” he prompts.
“Noir’s fallen back,” Kurusu says. His dagger spins an impatient circle in his palm.
Or: The Phantom Thieves are left with no choice but to team up with Akira Kurusu, the disgraced Detective Prince, if they're to conquer Maruki’s Palace. Goro Akechi, their put-upon and perpetually exhausted leader, isn’t sure how much longer he can maintain this fragile alliance. They’re all at their breaking point, but reality itself is at stake. It’d be nice if Kurusu would start acting like it.
Bookmarked by DuskMonarch
11 Jun 2026
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An innocent question leads to an odd competition. Who will win in a battle of compliments, hugs, and kissing?
Bookmarked by DuskMonarch
09 Jun 2026
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There’s something too soft in the way Akira laughs around a gasp. “You loved me.”
It’s a mistake, one that’s out of his mouth before he can really catch it. Two years of pining and mourning and loving, whole heartedly, has it tumbling from his lips, drunk on the excitement of Goro in his house, in his bed, in his life.
“I did,” Goro says. “I do.”
Series
- Part 1 of Kinktober 2020
Bookmarked by DuskMonarch
30 May 2026
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Goro pads forward, telegraphing his movements as much as he can, and, when Akira doesn’t stop him, wraps his arms around Akira’s waist from behind.
“Don’t worry about that,” Goro says into Akira’s shoulder.
Akira’s pace stutters, knife pausing right over the taught red flesh of the tomato. “Let me take care of you,” he responds softly.
Goro tightens his grip, pressing his chest to Akira’s back. “You always do.”
“I—”
“Let’s eat later, Akira.” Goro noses at the nape of Akira’s neck. “I need something else right now.”
Series
- Part 8 of After Hours at Leblanc
Bookmarked by DuskMonarch
17 Feb 2026