generally minor-friendly, will flag fics that involve nsfw ┆ please do not repost my work ┆ if you yap about my fics it'll probably encourage me to write more ┆ feel free to give plot suggestions bc I do not know what I am doing ┆ occasionally caters to requests if asker cooks w/ their idea
Very Fishy Content :
⤷ Her Wildcard, His Confidant(♡)slowburn goro akechi x reader fic , female reader , occasionally campy , depiction of a toxic relationship (duh, it's akechi)
⤷ Fishy Writing Tag(♡)where I post miscellaneous stand-alone works
⤷ Fishy Art Tag(♡)where I show off my cool drawings
Chapter 3: The Jazz Jin — AO3 — Chapter 2 / Chapter 4
Summary: After Ren Amamiya's behavior at school catches your eye, you decide to look into him and his friend group, which leads to you accidentally getting wrapped up in the cultural phenomenon that is the phantom thieves. Is it possible to stay steadfast in your loyalty to your team as well as steadfast in your loyalty to Goro Akechi?
(Fic is based off of the idea of what would happen if Akechi managed to trust someone enough to acquire a confidant of his own.)
Akechi raised his eyebrow, propping his elbow up on the bar as he rested his chin on the heel of his hand, " I must say, I wasn't aware that I had a favorite beverage here. "
It didn't fully make sense to you how a kid his age could work such a grueling job and still manage to walk around in a relatively chipper mood. He had to be tired; it was the way his eyes seemed sunken, his face gaunt as if he was in the habit of skipping meals, the tenseness in his body that lessened as he unwound with the ambience of the Jazz Jin. To the tabloid media, the angle of his story was that of a princely detective: brave, chivalrous, and keenly intelligent, on a mission to rescue the people of his nation from the ever-growing phenomenon of 'mental shutdowns'. To your discerning eye? There had to be a much more interesting beat on the subject lurking beneath the surface of his masterful PR training.
Luckily for him, you weren't a child prodigy signed with a major news agency. If circumstances were different, you'd have an absolute field day with him.
" You always order one of two things- either you ask me to pick a drink for you, or you ask me for an omni fizz, sometimes despite the fact that we only offer them on Fridays. I'd assume someone's go-to drink is their favorite, wouldn't you? " You start preparing a glass for him.
" Well, well, well, we'll make a detective out of you yet, Miss (----). I sense some friendly competition in our midst. "
" Bar-tending for the Jazz Jin is much more my speed. " It was indeed that time of the week, so you decided to go ahead with the omni fizz. You muddle some mint and raspberries before sliding them into a mixing cup along with club soda, non-alcoholic limoncello, and ice, stirring the mixture before straining it into your cocktail shaker. Working and speaking simultaneously, you glance up at him, " Though, I wouldn't mind being an investigative journalist. Traveling Japan, maybe even the world, sniffing out and exposing corruption- it's not exactly on par with the public service you do, but I think it fits into my own sense of justice. "
A bemused look flickered across Akechi's face before he moved to push back the stray strands of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes, " and you'll surely write about my many successes when you're working for The Yomiuri Shimbun, won't you? "
" Make that The Chunichi Shimbun, I tend to prefer their approach to reporting much more, but I'll always buy a copy of The Yomiuri Shimbun when I have the means to. I don't know about publishing articles singing your praises though, maybe I'll uncover the scandal that ruins your career instead. "
" You wound me! " Faux-shock. He brings his hand to his chest, leaning away from you as his face scrunches into a dramatized look of a dejected sort of pain, " And here I thought after my many months of patronage, you and I had developed a sort of camaraderie… "
The kicked puppy act lasts about as long as it takes for you to finish up his order and slide the glass in front of him. With that, the two of you were back to your usual routine. The night continued on, and Akechi took to shuffling between listening to the performers on stage, responding to emails, and occasionally starting up yet another conversation with you; the topics of which ranged from stories you had seen in the papers, novels he had been reading, how school was going… Mostly small talk, which neither of you minded. For you, it made your shift a lot less mind-numbing. For him, it seemed from your perspective that having someone to talk to who wasn't intent on chasing him down the street with a camera was a crucial part of how he wound down after work. Then again, it was hard to tell whether he fed off of the limelight surrounding him or if the intensity of it all combined with the tasks of his job was eating him alive. A part of you was curious if he took a liking to you because you preferred to avoid the topic of his line of work entirely, or if the sentiment of someone acting as if they didn't know him simply amused him.
Every week or so there was a shift you worked where Akechi would stay for its entirety. In spite of how he perplexed you, these were some of your fondest memories from being employed at the Jazz Jin. There really was something about him…
You looked up at the clock, noticing it was nearly time to wrap up for the day. The moment the coworker who typically relieves your shift entered the bar and headed to the back room, Akechi took out his wallet and set down the yen to cover his tab. As you were confirming the amount and stowing it away, he proceeded to withdraw several more bills and set them on the counter.
" Come on, I know you're not a foreigner, and you just paid me in full. I'm not allowed to accept tips, Akechi-sama. Frankly, it's a little embarrassing- "
" There's really no need to be so polite! Akechi alone will suffice. " He quite literally waves your hand away as you attempt to shove a fistful of bills towards him. " Think of it as a gift from a friend. "
" You're my customer, it's- but that's not the point! I don't- " Akechi is turning away from you and heading for the door, " wait- don't leave! Take your money! "
He was already exiting the building, face wry with glee, and you still needed to hang up your apron and punch your time card. Despite how the two of you had been 'meeting' here weekly, sometimes several times a week for the past few months, you wouldn't consider the two of you particularly close. There seemed to be a mutual understanding between you both about something you had in common; he, as well as you, preferred holding others at a safe distance. Stuffing the yen into your pocket with red-tinged cheeks, you turned on your heel and began the process of closing your shift.
It was when you had looked at the amount he had given you before catching the subway home that you felt a combination of positive and negative emotions wash over you. Not only had this man tipped you when he wasn't supposed to, he overtipped you. Majorly. In an alternate universe where people did tip workers in Japan, the only place where you would receive a sign of gratitude this good was in red-light district.
It wasn't like you didn't need the money. Living alone as a student, paying for rent, supporting yourself; these things were hard to do on the income from part-time jobs. Your uncle helps here and there, giving you a discount on a unit in his apartment complex and helping you with meals the best he can, but he himself could barely keep his business out of the red before he had to start looking out for you last year. In all honesty, the extra sum of cash would be a god send. The things you could buy with this… No more rice! Be gone with the miso soup and packaged ramen! You could have expensive fruit! Or pork! Or beef! Those little premade bento boxes… Sushi… Oh, when was the last time you had sushi?
You supposed it was possible that instead of returning the yen the next time you saw him, you could put what you were so kindly gifted to good use. That Akechi was a sharp one. He must have been able to tell you were scrimping- maybe your clothes were terribly outdated? Your phone definitely wasn't new by any means, and looking down at your shoes— yeah, okay, they were a teensy bit worn in. Still, who just gives away money like that? Perhaps along with his fame came a certain level of wealth, and perhaps he was one of the somewhat rare well off individuals in Japan that still held a penchant for philanthropy. If one thing was for sure, things on your end were going to feel insanely awkward the next time you saw him face to face.
All these thoughts flooded your mind in tandem with the bodies that flooded the train you were taking, both of which subsided as you finally made your way out of the station and back to your home. The weight of the day hit you as you kicked off your shoes and slid into your house slippers, your body suddenly feeling heavy with exhaustion. Feet practically dragging across the floor of your apartment, you threw yourself into your typical nighttime routine. A bit of food, a shower, washing your face, brushing your teeth; the works. It's as you're slipping into your bed that you realize, despite the fatigue you're experiencing now, today had been the best day you've had in a while. You find yourself hoping, as your eyes flutter shut, that tomorrow will be just as good.
Sleep falls over you how smog covers a city in a thick sheet of grey. You dream of darkness, and fluttering off in the distance, a shimmering blue light.
Chapter 3: The Jazz Jin — AO3 — Chapter 2 / Chapter 4
Summary: After Ren Amamiya's behavior at school catches your eye, you decide to look into him and his friend group, which leads to you accidentally getting wrapped up in the cultural phenomenon that is the phantom thieves. Is it possible to stay steadfast in your loyalty to your team as well as steadfast in your loyalty to Goro Akechi?
(Fic is based off of the idea of what would happen if Akechi managed to trust someone enough to acquire a confidant of his own.)
Akechi raised his eyebrow, propping his elbow up on the bar as he rested his chin on the heel of his hand, " I must say, I wasn't aware that I had a favorite beverage here. "
It didn't fully make sense to you how a kid his age could work such a grueling job and still manage to walk around in a relatively chipper mood. He had to be tired; it was the way his eyes seemed sunken, his face gaunt as if he was in the habit of skipping meals, the tenseness in his body that lessened as he unwound with the ambience of the Jazz Jin. To the tabloid media, the angle of his story was that of a princely detective: brave, chivalrous, and keenly intelligent, on a mission to rescue the people of his nation from the ever-growing phenomenon of 'mental shutdowns'. To your discerning eye? There had to be a much more interesting beat on the subject lurking beneath the surface of his masterful PR training.
Luckily for him, you weren't a child prodigy signed with a major news agency. If circumstances were different, you'd have an absolute field day with him.
" You always order one of two things- either you ask me to pick a drink for you, or you ask me for an omni fizz, sometimes despite the fact that we only offer them on Fridays. I'd assume someone's go-to drink is their favorite, wouldn't you? " You start preparing a glass for him.
" Well, well, well, we'll make a detective out of you yet, Miss (----). I sense some friendly competition in our midst. "
" Bar-tending for the Jazz Jin is much more my speed. " It was indeed that time of the week, so you decided to go ahead with the omni fizz. You muddle some mint and raspberries before sliding them into a mixing cup along with club soda, non-alcoholic limoncello, and ice, stirring the mixture before straining it into your cocktail shaker. Working and speaking simultaneously, you glance up at him, " Though, I wouldn't mind being an investigative journalist. Traveling Japan, maybe even the world, sniffing out and exposing corruption- it's not exactly on par with the public service you do, but I think it fits into my own sense of justice. "
A bemused look flickered across Akechi's face before he moved to push back the stray strands of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes, " and you'll surely write about my many successes when you're working for The Yomiuri Shimbun, won't you? "
" Make that The Chunichi Shimbun, I tend to prefer their approach to reporting much more, but I'll always buy a copy of The Yomiuri Shimbun when I have the means to. I don't know about publishing articles singing your praises though, maybe I'll uncover the scandal that ruins your career instead. "
" You wound me! " Faux-shock. He brings his hand to his chest, leaning away from you as his face scrunches into a dramatized look of a dejected sort of pain, " And here I thought after my many months of patronage, you and I had developed a sort of camaraderie… "
The kicked puppy act lasts about as long as it takes for you to finish up his order and slide the glass in front of him. With that, the two of you were back to your usual routine. The night continued on, and Akechi took to shuffling between listening to the performers on stage, responding to emails, and occasionally starting up yet another conversation with you; the topics of which ranged from stories you had seen in the papers, novels he had been reading, how school was going… Mostly small talk, which neither of you minded. For you, it made your shift a lot less mind-numbing. For him, it seemed from your perspective that having someone to talk to who wasn't intent on chasing him down the street with a camera was a crucial part of how he wound down after work. Then again, it was hard to tell whether he fed off of the limelight surrounding him or if the intensity of it all combined with the tasks of his job was eating him alive. A part of you was curious if he took a liking to you because you preferred to avoid the topic of his line of work entirely, or if the sentiment of someone acting as if they didn't know him simply amused him.
Every week or so there was a shift you worked where Akechi would stay for its entirety. In spite of how he perplexed you, these were some of your fondest memories from being employed at the Jazz Jin. There really was something about him…
You looked up at the clock, noticing it was nearly time to wrap up for the day. The moment the coworker who typically relieves your shift entered the bar and headed to the back room, Akechi took out his wallet and set down the yen to cover his tab. As you were confirming the amount and stowing it away, he proceeded to withdraw several more bills and set them on the counter.
" Come on, I know you're not a foreigner, and you just paid me in full. I'm not allowed to accept tips, Akechi-sama. Frankly, it's a little embarrassing- "
" There's really no need to be so polite! Akechi alone will suffice. " He quite literally waves your hand away as you attempt to shove a fistful of bills towards him. " Think of it as a gift from a friend. "
" You're my customer, it's- but that's not the point! I don't- " Akechi is turning away from you and heading for the door, " wait- don't leave! Take your money! "
He was already exiting the building, face wry with glee, and you still needed to hang up your apron and punch your time card. Despite how the two of you had been 'meeting' here weekly, sometimes several times a week for the past few months, you wouldn't consider the two of you particularly close. There seemed to be a mutual understanding between you both about something you had in common; he, as well as you, preferred holding others at a safe distance. Stuffing the yen into your pocket with red-tinged cheeks, you turned on your heel and began the process of closing your shift.
It was when you had looked at the amount he had given you before catching the subway home that you felt a combination of positive and negative emotions wash over you. Not only had this man tipped you when he wasn't supposed to, he overtipped you. Majorly. In an alternate universe where people did tip workers in Japan, the only place where you would receive a sign of gratitude this good was in red-light district.
It wasn't like you didn't need the money. Living alone as a student, paying for rent, supporting yourself; these things were hard to do on the income from part-time jobs. Your uncle helps here and there, giving you a discount on a unit in his apartment complex and helping you with meals the best he can, but he himself could barely keep his business out of the red before he had to start looking out for you last year. In all honesty, the extra sum of cash would be a god send. The things you could buy with this… No more rice! Be gone with the miso soup and packaged ramen! You could have expensive fruit! Or pork! Or beef! Those little premade bento boxes… Sushi… Oh, when was the last time you had sushi?
You supposed it was possible that instead of returning the yen the next time you saw him, you could put what you were so kindly gifted to good use. That Akechi was a sharp one. He must have been able to tell you were scrimping- maybe your clothes were terribly outdated? Your phone definitely wasn't new by any means, and looking down at your shoes— yeah, okay, they were a teensy bit worn in. Still, who just gives away money like that? Perhaps along with his fame came a certain level of wealth, and perhaps he was one of the somewhat rare well off individuals in Japan that still held a penchant for philanthropy. If one thing was for sure, things on your end were going to feel insanely awkward the next time you saw him face to face.
All these thoughts flooded your mind in tandem with the bodies that flooded the train you were taking, both of which subsided as you finally made your way out of the station and back to your home. The weight of the day hit you as you kicked off your shoes and slid into your house slippers, your body suddenly feeling heavy with exhaustion. Feet practically dragging across the floor of your apartment, you threw yourself into your typical nighttime routine. A bit of food, a shower, washing your face, brushing your teeth; the works. It's as you're slipping into your bed that you realize, despite the fatigue you're experiencing now, today had been the best day you've had in a while. You find yourself hoping, as your eyes flutter shut, that tomorrow will be just as good.
Sleep falls over you how smog covers a city in a thick sheet of grey. You dream of darkness, and fluttering off in the distance, a shimmering blue light.
ok i put the first post for her wild card, his confidant as chapter 0 but I feel as if that may be confusing and thus it shall be now officially dubbed chapter 1
considering making this AU a Visual Novel/Game instead, while I put my fic-writing efforts on the AUs im in the middle of writing (this is like, an interest check, in a way)
Summary: Goro Akechi is a ubiquitous character. He comes and goes as he pleases, constantly leaving you in a state of emotional peril. You’re confident you won’t let this game of cat and mouse go on much longer and maybe your new rag-tag group of friends can help you do that.
This is my first time asking request so I apologize if I'm not good at explaining. Can I request a hopeless romantic Akiren yet he tries to hide it from the target of his affection? Like even the small touch can make him dizzy
This heart is only for you
(Hati ini hanya untuk kamu)
Ren Amamiya x Reader
♯ I Think I'm In Love - Wynn, yedira
Synopsis: the Phantom Thieves try to give Ren exposure therapy and talk to you. While he goes insane at the most simplest interaction between the both of you.
Genre: fluff. Crack.
Tags: He's down bad. Going insane from having a crush. Morgana u sneaky motherfucker.
Wc: 1.8k
"Yo Ren! You comin' or what?" Ryuji's call drifted into static the second it touched Ren's ears.
"It appears he's distracted yet again." Yusuke sighed from beside the blonde man. Both of them were staring straight at the boy who seemed to be ignoring them. And that boy were staring straight at you.
As per usual.
It's been what? Maybe the twentieth time Ren's friends caught him staring bullets directly into your soul. Only god knows what goes on in his head when he looks at you. What song he thinks is playing when he sees you look behind your shoulder, the wing suddenly having perfect timing and blowing the hair out of your eyes.
Even Morgana had to beg anybody else to let him sleep at their house, he spent too much time in Ren's bag, doing literally nothing because he knows that when he stops, he's just staring at you (of course).
"Perhaps we should.. leave him to it." The genuine concern on Yusuke's voice would make you think that Ren's in need of some serious rehabilitation.
"Orrrrr perhaps we should make him do something about this little infatuation of his?" Ann was a lot more pissed than she would prefer to be. But, to be fair, he's acting like a bit of a loser right now.
".. I fear he's a lost cause." Makoto sighed, "I tell him that he should go up to them, and then he chickens out last minute."
"We gotta do somethin' about this guy." Ryuji scratches the back of his head. Looking back at Ren, who was of course, still staring at you like a madman. "I get sadder the more I look at it."
Yusuke snaps his fingers, an idea seeming to pop up in his head. With only three quick strides, he makes it to right behind Ren. "Ren." He states simply.
"Hm?" Ren simply raised his eyebrows. Eyes still on you. His head merely nudged a tiny bit to the left.
"We can't help but notice," Yusuke nods, before facing you as well. Who was off in the distance, minding your own business. Completely oblivious of your admirer and his very concerned friend. "That you are extremely unlike yourself." He waits patiently for a response.
"Is that so.."
Yusuke nods, "it's very concerning." Knitting his eyebrows together.
Right behind the both of them, was the rest of the group. Staring at the two.. staring at you.. staring at your phone.
"I think it's best if you talk to them.. rather than do whatever this is."
That was when Ren finally decided to turn his head completely. "What." He seemed much more surprised as he should be. Given the fact that he was indeed acting like a complete weirdo right now. His cheeks were heating up a bright shade of pink. His eyes wide open and mouth slightly agape. "What." He asks again.
Yusuke cocks his head to the side. "What?" He parroted. "Is there a problem with speaking to them?"
"No.." Ren muttered, clearly lying to himself.
"So then.. what is it?"
"It's nothing." He seemed to have snapped out of the trance you unknowingly put on him. Turning slowly on his heel and beginning to make his way to the rest of the group. Still stealing glances towards you.
Yusuke only followed suit, looking back at you once. Still minding your own business. Before looking back at him in confusion, unsure how he managed to lose himself to someone as regualr as you. Not that you were basic or anything, you just weren't even doing anything.
Ann was already yelling at him the second he came back. Frustrated and most definitely pissed. He stopped in front of Makoto. "We ready to go?" Said in a way as if he was none to wiser to how he's been acting.
"We've been ready, yes." Makoto folds her arms in front of her torso. Before immediately unfolding it and bringing up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "For twenty minutes." Her eyes narrowed even further.
"Really?"
The dumbfounded look on his face only pissed her off even further. "Yes, really." She sighed. "Twenty minutes waiting for you to do something about your crush."
He stammered on her words. "Crush--?"
"Yeah!" Ryuji practically yelled in anger. Hastily running his hair through his head when the same look was given to him. He points an accusing finger in front of him. "You've been ogling and oogling and droolin' all over the place just lookin' at 'em!"
Ren was panicking, anxiously trying his best to shush the blonde boy in front of him. Despite you being very clearly out of ear shot.
"Don't shush him!" Ann swatted his shoulder. "You have been ogling and oogling and drooling!"
Ren only shrugged, hiding the embarrassment.
"I would like to suggest actually speaking to them for a change?" Yusuke threaded lightly, Unsure on what would trigger another stuttering episode from him.
He only shook his head. Maybe a bit too fast. Earning another round of eye rolls.
"If you're not gonna do anything, then we will!"
═══════
That threat has been hanging over his head throughout the entire week.
It was more so a helpful hand from a friend rather than a threat. But for Ren, it was the worst thing that anyone could ever offer him.
Especially if that offer came from the most impulsive group of people that he's ever met.
He could only wait in anticipation on what shenanigans they'd come up with now.
It doesn't take a detective to figure out Ren's very explicit and obvious feelings towards you. Literally anybody could tell even from a mile away.
But as far as he knew (as far as he hoped) you didn't know shit.
Though, the nausea in his gut became even worse now when he saw you slowly approaching his desk.
He was trying his hardest not to stare like he always does. Wanting to appear as unbothered as he could be. Nose dug deeper into the open of his empty notebook. Trying not to look like he was using his free time lurking around to catch glimpses of you.
"Hey."
God, your voice was angelic in his ears. He glanced over at you. "Hi." An instant facepalm from how pathetic he sounded.
"Ann told me you needed help with chemistry." You were cheery. Grabbing the chair in front of him --- deliberately left empty by the aforementioned girl.
Damn it, Ann.
"Uhm--" he started, struggling to think of any words. "Well that's..--" he honestly could not come up with anything. His brain giving him a fog. "No it's not.. it's okay uhm.." Stop. Fucking. Talking.
You blinked a couple of times, eyes laced with concern. Worried that this poor boy was having a stroke or something of the sort.
"Are.. are you okay?" Nudging your foot with his. Something so small yet made his heart explode into a billion pieces. He could practically hear the fireworks go off around him.
He could only nod, not trusting himself to speak a single work. Worried that his voice would crack, or not come out at all.
"Uhm.." you trailed off. "But yeah, what do you need help with?"
His chemistry book was sitting idly on his desk at home. The least Ann could've done was use a subject that was actually today. Not like it would've made much of a difference. He's sure that he would still be extremely quiet in shock either way.
He said the first thing he could think of. "Co.. covalent bonds.."
"Ah!" You clasped your hands together. "Yeah, I got a bit confused about that too." Adjusting yourself on the chair to move closer to him. Something he fears that his heart can't handle. "It's mostly just confusing because the words can get mixed up sometimes. Metals and non-metals and all that shit. It's really just memorising. So, a covalent bond is when.."
As you rambled on, chatting to him animatedly. Seeming excited that he needed help with something that was fairly easy enough for you. He felt his hands clam up on his lap. His posture as stiff as a board.
That was when he heard a snort from beneath the table. His eyes darted straight to the bag by his foot. Where a small, furry head popped out of the gap. "You look so desperate, it's insane."
Ren snapped his wrist to shoo the cat away.
"It's insane how much you like them, you can't even function." Morgana snickered.
Above him, you paused. "You hear that?"
Oh shit.
He shook his head no.
"Huh.. thought I did.." you looked around, trying to pinpoint the sound you just heard. "Anyway, for polar molecules.."
He allowed himself to sigh out in relief. Giving the cat a quick glare. To which he only meowed softly. Taunting the poor boy even further. "You better not screw this up."
You looked around once again, softly slamming your palm onto his table. "I swear to god I heard something." Smiling nervously, not wanting to look like a lunatic.
It was only when you looked below the table did your breath hitch.
Morgana failed to go back to inside the bag quick enough. The both of you locking eyes. You slowly looked back up, a now knowing glint in your eye.
"Is.." you began. Voice now much lower. "Your cat?" You could tell that a smirk was slowly forming on your face. Now that the cat was literally out of the bag.
He could only nod. Kicking his bag when the angry "I'm not a cat!" Reached his ears.
"Could I pet it?"
That question somehow caught him off guard. Not expecting a less tattletail-like reaction.
He nodded once again. Before clearing his throat. Once, twice. "Uhm, not now though.. " he looked around. Weary of the teacher watching over the class up at the front.
"Oh, of course." You whispered hurriedly. "What about after school then?"
And even worse, his face was heating up impossibly so.
"Yeah, yeah okay." He couldn't contain the smile breaking through to his lips.
"I'll meet you at the side gate then." You smiled back, nudging his foot once again.
And with eyes locked on yours. The both of you completely missed the four teens peeking on you from behind the class door.
"Good going, Ann." Haru patted her on the shoulder. Earning a proud grin.
"Damn right it was."
"They're practically dating at this point."
"Man, if he's this nervous just from looking at them, imagine when he actually starts dating them."
And Ren could definitely imagine that. Because he's been imagining it nearly everyday since he had met you.
The difference was that now he actually had a chance for that dream to come true.
everyone knows that ren is madly in love with you – except for you!
honestly, it's a surprise that you've managed to not notice it by now! with how much ren tries to make it obvious to you, you should've picked up on it by now…
ren is constantly around you, he's way more touchy and playfully affectionate with you and he keeps giving you cute nicknames to tease you, yet you don't seem to have realized why he does all that!
you keep receiving special treatment from the leader of the phantom thieves, whether he's cooking you curry when you come over to leblanc or offering you a coffee on the house!
even the other phantom thieves mention how much of a special treatment you get, with ryuji and yusuke often complaining that they never get free food or coffee from ren!
meanwhile, the phantom thief girls try to give you hints that ren is into you – as if ren hadn't tried and failed at that already!
even when you're in the metaverse, joker tries to play the hero and act as your knight in shining armor, saving you from any shadow coming your way! and all the while, he tries to show off his skills as much as he can…
ren even tries to get time with you alone, asking you to stay a bit longer, even after the other phantom thieves head home. he'll come up with an excuse like ‘needing someone to try his new curry recipe’ or ‘wanting to ask you some stuff about the upcoming exam’
but it seems like even that doesn't help! perhaps ren has to finally make a move that even you can't misunderstand and ask you out on a proper date!
Summary: After Ren Amamiya's behavior at school catches your eye, you decide to look into him and his friend group, which leads to you accidentally getting wrapped up in the cultural phenomenon that is the phantom thieves. Is it possible to stay steadfast in your loyalty to your team as well as steadfast in your loyalty to Goro Akechi?
(Fic is based off of the idea of what would happen if Akechi managed to trust someone enough to acquire a confidant of his own.)
" Amamiya-san, right? Sorry- I wanted to talk to you about something after school. Would you mind meeting me by the gates when we get let out? "
It was almost too easy. Well- not that getting Amamiya-san to agree to speak to you after school was the hard part. When you were just watching him from a distance, he gave off the impression that he was calm, cool, and collected. Not exactly suave, but give him a couple more years to grow into himself, take off those chunky glasses, and change him out of his school uniform? You could see him getting somewhere.
The guy that stood in front of you now, though… Was different from what you had imagined him to be. When you had asked him to meet with you, he was obviously going to be surprised that a girl who had never spoken to him, let alone spoken in class at all since he had transferred, was asking to hang out with him after school. After you posed the question, though, he almost seemed bashful? Shifting the weight of the bag that was slung over his shoulder, he took a second to process what you were asking before awkwardly agreeing. Now, he was at the school's gate, standing in front of you, and looking somewhere between apprehensive and friendly. You had never noticed how tall he was, but with that height did not come any hint of body fat or muscle tone. He was scrawny- lanky, with a mop of dark hair atop his head, his oversized glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, prompting him to take a moment to readjust them as he looked down at you.
Taking a deep breath, your fingers wrapped around the straps of your backpack as they rested atop your shoulders, " I'm not going to beat around the bush. "
Amamiya-san cleared his throat, stuffing his knobby hands into the pockets of his blazer, almost seeming like he was trying to keep his cool, " …Okay? "
" I know you and your friends sent Kamoshida the calling card. " Your voice is confident, the corners of your mouth almost curling into a smile; you were excited, but did your best not to come off that way.
A long pause. For a moment, the boy just looks stunned. You can see the metaphorical cogs turning in his brain, and before long, you're met with what you can only assume is a faux-look of confusion: " I have no idea what you're talking about. "
" No, Im pretty sure you do " you retort, " In the hallway, when the card was posted, before Kamoshida came in! You and your friends were all talking about how you guys wrote it, I heard it. At first, you know, I thought it was some dumb stunt- "
As you're talking, Amamiya-san very rudely begins walking away from you and towards the subway station. In response, you start after him, having to work a little harder to match his pace, " Hey! As I was saying, I thought it was a stunt, but then Mr. Kamoshida- "
He turns to you, not seeming annoyed, but certainly bewildered. The words that come out of his mouth are sharp, " I don't even know you, let alone your name, and you're tossing these crazy accusations at me! "
In a huff, you cross your arms, gazing at him as you try to piece together how you're going to get to talk to you about this in your head, "I'm (----), and it's very nice to meet you. Now, about this business involving the Phantom Thieves— "
The mission? Unsuccessful. After what felt like an endless barrage of poking, prodding, and near-begging for information on what happened with Mr. Kamoshida, the only new knowledge you walked away with was the sneaking suspicion that Amamiya-san did not want to talk about these 'Phantom Thieves of Hearts' at all. It definitely would have been better to wait until you had an actual plan and concrete evidence before you confronted him, but you had the instincts of a journalist, not a detective! Or at the very least, you had the instincts of a girl who absolutely loathed waiting for something she was ready to uncover now.
It had been about a week since your conversation with Amamiya-san, and it felt like during school hours, he spent the majority of his time steering clear of you. Last night, you gave in to the urge to do some light digging on him. School records listed his guardian's name (Sojiro Sakura), his guardian's phone number, and his home address. Upon a closer look, Amamiya-san's place of residence just so happened to be a… Coffee shop? Curiouser and curiouser.
Although you were apprehensive about potentially making yourself look absolutely unhinged by showing up to this poor guy's home, there wasn't anything wrong about visiting a coffee shop. This is why, when you push open the front door to Leblanc, accompanied by the chime of the door's bell, you are fueled by just as much audacity as you were the week before.
You're greeted by an older fellow, likely the shop's owner, " A Shujin student? You must be one of Ren's friends. Here- have a seat, I'll go get him. "
And so you did just that. The old man came down the stairs after he had gone up to the second floor (presumably to retrieve your not-so-little friend) accompanied shortly after by Amamiya-san, who does not seem very enthusiastic that the friend who had come to visit was actually the girl who demanded he confess to being a phantom thief.
" Well, I've got some things to attend to back at the house, so I'm gonna see myself out. Ren, close up shop, behave yourself, and don't forget to walk the girl back to the station if it gets dark, got it? "
And then there were two.
" You're in my house. " He sounds astonished.
" Your house looks a lot like a coffee shop. "
That line gets you the briefest ghost of a smile, " Touche. "
"I'm not here to rat on you, you know (...) It was obvious what that guy was doing. I'm honestly just fascinated- there are some facts in life you can't change. The fact that powerful men like that get away with whatever they'd like, without consequence- well, it's something that definitely can't be changed or avoided. For him at least, and for a lot of our peers, you changed that. "
You're both awkwardly silent. It's uncomfortable for him, but purposeful on your part. The intense eye contact you're both sharing is broken when the cutest little tuxedo cat hops up on the table the two of you are sitting at. It lets out a string of meows as it faces Amamiya-san before you let your hand fall atop its head to give it some scritches, the feline then intently rubbing its noggin all over your hand, wrist, and arm before chittering a bit more. It was almost as if it was trying to communicate something, but to you, the behavior seemed like that of a pleasantly talkative kitty. To your surprise, Amamiya-san lets out a labored sigh and breaks the silence,
" Fine. "
" Fine? " There's a twinkle in your eyes, along with a lilt of intrigue in your voice.
" I did it. We did, I mean- we're, uh… Yeah, me and my friends, we're the phantom thieves. "
God, it's so satisfying to be right. Mentally, you're doing a little happy dance. Physically, a wide smile breaks across your face as you slam your hand on the table, startling the cat, " I knew it! I knew it! "
After briefly reveling in your victory, you lean back in your seat, " Now tell me everything. How'd you do it? Did you threaten him? Extort him, like with blackmail? Those are the only possibilities I was able to come up with, but for you… I don't know, they seem a little far-fetched. "
He seems a bit lost for words as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, casting his gaze downwards, " I'm not exactly sure how to explain it to you… "
It was frustrating, but in spite of the confirmation of the fact that he was indeed a phantom thief, Amamiya-san seemed unable to explain how he brought about the sudden shift in behavior in Kamoshida. He did, however, after you pleaded with him for about twenty minutes to just spit it out, agree to bring you to meet his friends and 'show you how they change people's hearts'. Whatever that means. Part of you wondered if this was all an elaborate plan to either 1) send you on a wild goose chase in order to procrastinate telling you the truth and placate you until you get bored (you won't) or 2) jump you for knowing too much about his ragtag gang of misfits.
Despite your mind being heavy with thought, you still had a job you had to clock in for tonight. After such an eventful evening, the thought of showing up to work might make a person working an average part-time job grimace, but your place of occupation was thankfully your own personal home away from home.
Jazz Jin was technically a club, although it did lack the atmosphere one would assume a typical club would have. The low lighting, the ambience provided by the live music, and the way the patrons understood how crucial it was to keep the vibes inside mellow; these were all things that made the establishment an oasis in a vast desert of places you absolutely would loathe to work within. From the moment you set foot in the jazz club, you knew you wanted to work there, and after several days of stopping by and begging the owner to give you a position, you found yourself employed. Very quickly, when you were at your job, it became the very few and far between instances within your week in which you would come out of your shell, mingling with the customers, making nice with your boss and other employees. Now you stood behind the bar, wiping down the counter with a wet rag as you awaited your next order.
It's not long before you're met with a familiar face; a man whose chestnut colored hair tapered off just below his chin, donning his typical combo of a suit and tie covered up haphazardly by a well-tailored trench coat, his hands concealed by a pair of leather gloves. Sometimes you couldnt help but wonder how on Earth the regular perched atop the bar stool in front of you managed to survive in the progressive heat that came with the seasons transitioning from winter to spring. Despite his peculiarities, he was always polite when he stopped by, tipped you well, and participated in some light banter with you when your shifts were going slower than usual. Allowing a pleasant smile to fall over your face, you draped the rag over your shoulder as you began to speak,
" My favorite repeat customer! Now, Akechi-san, are you planning on asking me for something random this time, or are you in the mood for your favorite?"
Chapter 1 (Prologue): The Discovery — AO3 — Chapter 2
Summary: After Ren Amamiya's behavior at school catches your eye, you decide to look into him and his friend group, which leads to you accidentally getting wrapped up in the cultural phenomenon that is the phantom thieves. Is it possible to stay steadfast in your loyalty to your team as well as steadfast in your loyalty to Goro Akechi?
(Fic is based off of the idea of what would happen if Akechi managed to trust someone enough to acquire a confidant of his own.)
Your eyes lingered on him, Ren Amamiya, as he sat at his desk in front of you. He was hunched over, scanning the contents of the class's textbook as he fiddled with his pen in his right hand. An unwanted transfer student, a convicted criminal, a disgrace to your school; all words used to describe him and the type of trouble he supposedly was. These aspects of him weren't necessarily what piqued your interest, though — no, it really wasn't that simple.
There were a couple of things about Shujin Academy that were well known and often discussed on the off chance the institution was mentioned in conversation. Obviously, there was it's prestige; while many of the academy's students were middle-class, it did cater to a notable amount of up-and-coming student athletes, relatives of media professionals, and relatives of cooperation moguls. Along with the athletes came successful sports teams, and along with the successful sports teams came experienced coaches. The most notable of which being Suguru Kamoshida.
Then there were the things about Shujin Academy that were well known but not discussed at all outside of the monotonous drone of the rumor mill. Hushed voices echoed through the halls of the school; talk of Mr. Kamoshida's supposed relationship with a student in your class, speculation revolving around the volleyball team's ' sports-related injuries', and the general sentiment of discomfort attributed to him by a majority of the girls in your school.
Always whispered, always toeing the line between gossip and accusation, only for the words to be later forgotten as more interesting topics came along. That was, until Ren Amamiya showed up in your life. A quiet fellow, present in class physically but not always mentally, his mind seemed to be in a place far removed whenever your teachers were lecturing. You weren't quite sure how he managed it, but despite his head being in the clouds, he had a knack for giving the right answer whenever a teacher called on him. As a result of these observations, you concluded that he had to be extremely intelligent or at least a skilled multitasker. Most of the time, wherever he went, he was followed shortly behind by that bleach-blonde delinquent — Ryuji Sakamato, that was his name — the two, as of late, having a penchant to ask questions no one else dared to. Questions typically surrounding Mr. Kamoshida. Meandering around the campus, approaching members of the volleyball team and goading them for information about their coach, how he treats them, whether or not he gets violent with them, the works.
Honestly, you didn't know whether they were brave, stupid, or a little bit of both. It was obvious that whatever the volleyball coach was up to, it wasn't good, but you never felt that it was your place to step in or your battle to fight. Nothing positive would come out of it anyway; you had a future to think about. Getting wrapped up in something you had no business sticking your nose into wasn't your style; at least… Not when it was a subject that failed to intrigue you. Nevertheless, a small part of you (a naive part of you) hoped, despite the unlikelihood of it all, that their actions would lead to something positive being done about the matter.
For the majority of your life, you were an observer. In classes, you were quiet, and at lunch, you typically opted to eat alone. You were the president of the newspaper club, but the few members who were interested enough to join were just about as friendly as you were. Many days, you found yourself getting into bed, realising that you hadn't said a word to anyone at all, and yet that wasn't something that bothered you. Being able to sit in silence, to fade into the background, gave you an innate ability to notice things that others who were simply too caught up in the enormity of their lives would have never picked up on. When something you noticed within your sea of silence caught your eye, it tended to ignite a spark within you that turned you into another person entirely. Journalism, for one, had that effect on you.
But as March transitioned into April, a new source of kindling set your mind ablaze, and it came in the form of Amamiya-san.
The bell rang, and you, along with your peers who wanted to eat lunch outside, filed out of the classroom and into the halls like a wave barreling towards the shore of a beach. You intended to find a quiet place to enjoy your meal, but before you could make a proper decision on the matter, you were met by a crowd of somewhat lively students huddled around a bulletin board. A tad curious, you weaseled your way through the hoard of bodies into viewing what was posted up.
Sir Suguru Kamoshida, the utter bastard of lust. We know how shitty you are, and that you put your twisted desires on students that can't fight back. That's why we have decided to steal away those desires and make you confess your sins. This will be done tomorrow, so we hope you will be ready. From, the Phantom Thieves of Hearts
Utterly bizarre. That's how you would describe the note everyone was making a commotion about. From the writing itself, to the ransom-note style of typography (that is, the message was pieced together with letters cut randomly from a newspaper, likely in order to avoid using recognisable handwriting), it felt like it was crafted by a madman. Fishing your phone from your pocket, you snapped a quick picture before you started to make your way out of the scene that was rapidly unfolding. Shortly before you were about to turn the corner down a separate hall, though, you heard a familiar voice talking at a not-so-conspicuous volume.
" Not bad, eh? I looked up some similar stuff online for reference. " …Sakamato-san?
" Um… Yeah. I know what you wanted to say, but it sounded like an idiot trying to be an adult. " And Takamato-san. Her words were followed by what you could've sworn was the sound of a cat meowing incessantly, likely the elusive stray that was found to be prowling the school.
Were they the ones that—
" Who's responsible for this!? "
You were so busy eavesdropping, you hadn't noticed Mr. Kamoshida storm in. The boom of his voice made you flinch, your head whipping in his direction as he continued.
" Did you do this?? Or was it you?! " His gaze flicked from student to student, and instinctively the crowd dispersed with a swiftness that might make Principal Kobayakawa consider reinstating the track team. You too followed suit, trying to place yourself as far away from the fallout as possible.
A day passed, then two, and eventually it had been an entire week since the whole 'calling card' debacle took place. It was simultaneously disappointing and inevitable that you had begun to categorise the incident as more of a… Strange, half-baked prank rather than some kind of grand scheme. At some point, you would work up the courage to ask the principal and Mr. Kamoshida for permission to write a column about it in the school paper, use the piece in a future resume, and forget about the incident entirely. At least, that's what you thought would happen.
The entire school had been called to a morning assembly. All around you, students moaned about how early it was, how they were all tired, and how displeased they were about the impromptu trip to the auditorium.
"What's with the morning assembly?"
"I bet it's about that girl who jumped the other day…"
"They don't have to tell us not to commit suicide."
"There was that weird calling card too, so I guess the teachers are freaking out?"
Principal Kobayakawa approached the microphone up on the stage, and from the sounds of it he truly was about to go on a spiel about the tragedy that occurred earlier in the month and the horrors of taking your own life. That was, until the doors burst open and in walked Mr. Kamoshida, who had taken sick leave for the past several days. Upon first glance, he looked less like he was ill and more like the life had been sucked out of him.
" I have been reborn… That is why I will confess everything to you all. "
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
The speech he gave left the entire room, that being said, the entire student body, in complete shell shock from the utter impact of its contents; you, even more so than others. Your mind was moving at a hundred miles per hour, your entire body jittery with anticipation — there was a story here, a story that was shrouded in mystery, a story you wanted to know every detail of, and that boy had something to do with it. That boy standing several feet to the left of you, with the unruly hair, is adjusting his glasses with an undeniably satisfied smirk on his face. Ren Amamiya, whom you were now walking towards, was closing the distance between the two of you before he disappeared into the mass that was your peers exiting the auditorium. You reached out to tug on his sleeve, and with a somewhat startled expression, he turned to face you.
On your lips was a smile, but your eyes gleamed with an excitement that was unbecoming of how you typically held yourself,
" Oh! " you exclaimed, despite being the one who started speaking to him, " Amamiya-san, right? Sorry- I wanted to talk to you about something after school. Would you mind meeting me by the gates when we get let out? "
⤷ you can call me fish! welcome to my beautiful wondrous mystical magical (etc, etc) blog.
⤷ every month or so I start drawing and writing A LOT. then I disappear for awhile and come back when the spirit of creativity beckons.
⤷ feel free to let me know about any typos, errors, or general monstrosities you notice in my posts.
⤷ I will not: write or draw sexual content involving characters that are under 18 (there may be some steamy moments in certain fics, but anything further will be met with a time-skip), generally do anything I dont feel like doing, or answer direct messages from ageless accounts/accounts from users that are under the age of 18
⤷ I will: take writing and drawing requests that I find interesting, write things in the realm of dead dove do not eat (within reason), write smut as long as it's not something I feel is immoral/weird, swim around liek a little fish
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