#its ryoji smile

[autonomousxselves]

//Hang on you have to see this. That's all, thanks for your consideration.

[crescentfool]

happy mochizuki monday!!!

[katsona-the-katsequel]

Hiyah! Do you have any Persona fic recs? 👀

Long ago I made a Rec List, but that's lost to the abyss of Tumblr's awful search mechanism, so here's a new one. You didn't specify, so I included a little of every game. Each game is indicated by a specific color: 🟠 for P2 (both of them), 🔵 for P3, 🟡 for P4 and 🔴 for P5. Each one of these fics really stayed with me for a reason, so I heavily recommend you at least give them a chance.

Dust in the Air Suspended by @stealthnoodle 🟠

The dead timeline lives on, and Katsuya Suou stubbornly persists in it. His brother is determined to do better.

Gardenia by LunaDePlata 🟠

Jun can't sleep, and neither can his thoughts. A short vent piece.

heaven by [Orphan :(] 🟠

Lisa didn’t understand how Tatsuya could trust Jun so easily while she still woke from nightmare after nightmare of Joker’s piercing stare and twisted grin. She didn’t understand the pain in her chest when she saw the two of them linger at one another’s side, either.

under the mask by gaytimetraveller 🟠

Joker grants wishes, Joker receives calls (not always pleasant), Joker despairs.

maybe Death wants to be saved, too by @senblades 🔵

In December of 2009, Makoto Yuki slits Death’s throat in his bedroom. --- In January of 2010, Makoto Yuki meets an odd boy in a yellow scarf, haunting the entrance to Gekkoukan like a phantom. (The world is ending, and all Ryoji Mochizuki can do is watch)

No Ghosts, No Mistletoe by @stealthnoodle 🔵

If anyone asks, Junpei is technically spending Christmas Eve with a girl. It's just not anything like a date.

Threnody by @laora-ryn 🔵

In February, Nozomi shares a meal with Minato. [You know,” Minato says suddenly, “I had a twin sister.”]

All That Remains by @laora-ryn 🔵 ft. 🟡🔴

An exploration of the end of Persona 3, its aftermath, and those he left behind.

Equal or Lesser Value by Lisse 🔵 ft. 🟡

The wrong family dies on Moonlight Bridge.

A Barrel in the Sea by signalbeam 🟡

Post-game. Yukiko tells her parents about her relationship with Chie, and after the resulting fight, takes refuge in the Dojima residence.

First Impressions (Seventeen Variations) by jackdawq 🟡

It sucks to be the new transfer kid. Right?

Fusion Inheritance by @rabbitprint 🟡

In your first life, you're an asshole. There's no other way to describe it; even you would call it that.

I Have My Dead by signalbeam 🟡

Eight letters written from the Investigation Team to their families in the event of their deaths.

sentence by @corvus-corvus 🟡

Adachi rises to the balls of his feet for a better view. Yu knows they’re visiting a woman from the case files, but it’s only when Adachi mimes an exaggerated whistle that he knows it’s going to be a problem. "She told us to leave and we have other witnesses.” Yu holds out a light. Adachi breathes smoke until it ghosts over the beating sun. “She doesn’t know that.”

Lost Kingdoms by jackdawq 🟡 ft. 🔵

Every girl in Inaba likes Teddie; Port Island's no different.

A Year To Fill An Empty Home by @lostozian 🔴

The officer who came to explain the terms of the probation had a sad smile on his face the whole way through. He seemed like he was trying to be sympathetic at first, telling them about the mandatory school transfer and the probation terms, but when he got to the part about “removing Akira-kun from bad influences,” Chou couldn’t see the smile as anything less than sadistic. “I know you’re facing a lot of pain right now, Kurusu-san,” the officer had said. “But perhaps better parenting would have helped Akira-kun know that he shouldn’t assault people in the street.” OR, Takeshi and Chou Kurusu aren't bad people. They never stopped loving their son, not for a single second.

Falsities by Raaj 🔴

They keep saying you were sold out by a teammate. You can’t remember which one.

Killing Hope by Raaj 🔴

Akechi stops by Leblanc once after assassinating Amamiya, looking to find the last Phantom Thief.

Stumbling on the Chopping Block by vivvav 🔴

Even after Yaldabaoth leaves, the executions go on.

The Trickster's World by vivvav 🔴

The game has not played out how he imagined it would. Could the Trickster actually prevent humanity's ruin? Is it possible that Ren Amamiya truly poses a threat to his ascension? Only a journey into the boy's Cognition will tell.

marigolds by colbub 🔴 ft. 🔵🟡

Akechi meets a mysterious being chained to a door after death and gains a second chance.

Reflections by @senblades 🔵🟡🔴

In the space between dreams, there's time to think. And so, the attendants reflect; on the tragedies and triumphs their guests have left in their wake. On the saviour, the seeker, and the tricksters, and what facets of humanity they supposedly held in their depths. ___ The Velvet Room is a place of guidance. But what purpose does a guide serve once their role is complete?

Smart Kid by [Orphan :(] 🔵🔴

A troubled kid is brought into Officer Sanada Akihiko's office in the juvenile department, and Akihiko does his best to set him on the right path.

[brokemanthrash]

Ryomina request! What would you do if I said Ryoji finds Makoto's stuffies? (Jack Frost or something a bit more personal like a gift or maybe he collects a specific animal?) (Or do whatever you want it's your writing lol)

Anyone else would have found it inappropriate to be in somebody else's room while they were absent. Intruding on someone's space without explicit permission was generally frowned upon by society. Ryoji was entirely unaware-- and even if he had been aware, there was a good chance he would have disregarded the rule. He practically lived in Makoto's room, and although it was rare for Makoto not to be there with him, it was not something either of them would have considered unusual. He had invited himself in, expecting to find Makoto slouching across his desk, squinting at a textbook-- or laying atop the covers on his bed, with his eyes on the ceiling.

But he wasn't there. Which, really, Ryoji did not find strange in the slightest. He did feel a little pang of disappointment, but it was hardly enough to dampen his spirits. Eventually, Makoto would return, and when he did, they'd have the rest of the night together. In the meantime, Ryoji decided a shower was in order.

He skulked his way over to the closet, where a good portion of his own wardrobe had made itself at home among Makoto's clothing. When he slid the door open, however, he paused, his eyes lifting to the top shelf where he saw an unfamiliar, round little face smiling down at him. His eyes widened slightly as he reached for the doll, delight brightening his features as he squished its cheeks between his palms.

~

Makoto stared at Ryoji in disbelief as the door clicked shut behind him. Blue eyes stared at him from across the room, peeking out at him from under the sheets the way a crocodile's eyes peered over the surface of a body of water. Even from this distance, he could tell there was a cheeky smile hidden beneath the blankets, his eyes squinting playfully at the corners. Makoto arched an eyebrow at him, unimpressed as he made his way over to the closet.

"I can see you, you know," he teased, and Ryoji scoffed in response.

"I'm not hiding!"

"What are you doing then?" Makoto turned to watch him again as he began to undress, not at all concerned with modesty. His button down was discarded in favor of an oversized tee, his slacks quickly replaced by loose sweatpants.

"I was just waiting for you to come back," Ryoji answered innocently. "It was chilly with damp hair."

Makoto hummed his response, still a little skeptical. Nonetheless, he rolled his shoulders as he made his way over to the bed, peeling back one corner of the blanket so he could slide in.

He froze when his eyes landed on a familiar-looking plush doll, round and soft. A wide, jack-o'-lantern smile with black, beady eyes stared up at him from under a jester's hat, and Ryoji held one of its little round hands between his fingers. He smiled brightly as he made the little creature wave at Makoto, blue eyes glinting with mischief.

"He-ho~!"

".... Where did you find that?"

"In the closet!" Ryoji beamed, pushing himself to sit up a little. "I couldn't resist him. He was much too cute."

Makoto's expression was stuck somewhere between perplexed, annoyed, and endeared. He snorted as he finally swooped down to crawl into the bed, huffing when Ryoji pressed the little Jack Frost doll close to him. He instinctively lifted his arms to wrap around it, pouting slightly into the squishy, soft material.

"You know, you don't have to hide these," Ryoji said, propping his chin up in one palm. "It's okay to like cute things."

"I know that," Makoto mumbled into the side of the doll's head, glaring daggers at him.

"Ah-- Well-- I just meant..."

Makoto lifted his head, reaching out to pinch Ryoji's cheek with a sharp smile. He shimmied himself a little closer to him, until Jack Frost's head was sandwiched pathetically between them both, and his own head was resting on Ryoji's pillow.

"It's rude to go through people's things," he said, although there was no bite behind it. "Don't do that to anyone else. Okay?"

Ryoji blinked, leaning in a little closer-- as if he could see the glimmer of mischief disguised by the glare Makoto wore.

"S-Sorry," he uttered. "I won't go through your things again."

"Mm? My things? I don't care about you going through my things." Makoto shrugged, leaning his head back so that their noses brushed, an easy smile painting itself across his features. "Just don't do it to anyone else. They might not be as understanding."

Ryoji blinked, eyes widening in mild surprise. The smile that followed was bright, and he leaned in close, arms darting out to wrap tightly around Makoto's waist.

Makoto felt his heart skip a beat, his lips parting, his stomach twisting into knots. Blue eyes stared down into his own, adoration reflecting in the depths of a sapphire gaze. Ryoji's mouth lingered just a breath away from his own, and he was certain he could feel himself inching slowly closer to the grave.

"I understa-- MMPH--!"

Makoto abruptly shoved the doll up against Ryoji's face, looking away from him as the heat steadily crept its way up the back of his neck. He laughed airily as Ryoji's fingers curled urgently against the small of his back, stifling a snort.

"He-ho~!"

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

la mort en rose [ch 3/6]

A Ryoji Mochizuki study. You can start from chapter one here.

“Aigis,” Thanatos says calmly. “I don’t want to fight.” “I do.” “I don’t want to hurt anyone!” “I’m not anyone,” Aigis says coldly, then pauses to run the query again. “You won’t hurt me.” “I kind of think I will, though.” She expels a puff of trapped steam. “If you’re so concerned for my condition, you could allow me to subdue you without resisting.” “And then you’d let me go?” “No.” “See, that’s the problem,” Death says sadly. “It’d be different if you could really do it. But you can’t, so…” “Allow me to disagree,” she suggests, and opens fire.

Chapter 3: Memento Mori

A few minutes before midnight on November 25th, Minato blinks awake to a familiar sight: a spindly figure staring down at him. Bare feet, blue eyes. Unearthly pale and inhumanly still. Through the fog of sleep, Minato manages a bleary smile.

Then he remembers that Pharos is gone.

This isn’t Pharos.

Slowly, almost soundless, he slides his hand toward his bedside table. But before he can reach his evoker, the figure speaks.

“Minato-kun,” it whispers; and at last, it moves, raking tangled black hair back from a familiar face.

“Wh… Ryoji?” But why would he… and how would he… “How did you get here?”

Ryoji flaps a hand vaguely, like maybe even he doesn’t know. “S-Sorry. Sorry, I’m sorry, I just—I had to see you, I had to. I feel like I’m running out of time, like we’re running out of time, I can feel it slipping through my fingers, like… like something horrible’s going to happen. Can’t you feel it?” he pleads, suddenly desperate. “It’s so quiet, it’s too quiet, it’s—the horrible stillness as the surf pulls away from the shore, the beach all naked and exposed, the whole ocean holding its breath, and then—” He has to stop to gasp for breath.

Minato pushes up on his elbows. He’s still not sure if he’s awake. “What are you… What? Everything’s fine.”

“You can’t feel it?” Ryoji asks miserably. “No. No. I know that you can. A change in the wind, a cold front, a barometric shift like your ears are going to pop, except instead of your ears it’s everything. Everything is going to change. We’re going to lose everything.”

“Nn…no?” Minato yawns. “No, what? Come on. What?”

Ryoji laughs. It is not a happy sound. “Minato-kun. Have you ever known, really known, that you’re in danger? You can’t see it, you can’t hear it, but you know, you know it’s coming?”

“Anxiety disorder,” Minato mumbles.

Ryoji snorts a laugh. “Aw. Mina-kun. You’re so kind.”

“Not really…”

“But you are! You really are! You’re so good at picking the right answer! But sometimes there are only wrong answers. Sometimes mercy is cruelty and, and cruelty is kindness.” Ryoji spreads his hands wide, baring all his white teeth in a wild grin. “If you can’t save them, will you spare them?”

Okay, Minato is officially awake. “Ryoji. What are you talking about.”

“I don’t know!!” Ryoji giggles. “There’s—haha!! There’s so much I don’t know! It’s like the whole of my mind is the dark under the bed, the monster in the closet, only I can’t exorcize it by looking, because! It’s! It isn’t real until I look!!! A-And once I’ve looked, I can’t un-look. You don’t want me to look, do you, Minato-kun? That wouldn’t be kind.”

“I…” Minato trails off. He’s good at killing Shadows, taking exams. Right and wrong answers and, ideally, a navigator to tell him which ones are which. He isn’t good at… whatever this is.

“It’s okay!!!” Ryoji rushes to reassure him. His time-signature’s shifted along with his tone, minor chords to crashing, discordant majors. “It’s okay!!!! You don’t have to have the right answer!!! I don’t want you to change at all!! I’m just—I’m so glad to have known you!!! I feel so lucky!!!”

“…”

“The monster in the closet…” Ryoji chuckles. “It’s like something from a scary movie. Isn’t it? What is it that Sadako said… ‘Seven days?’”

Minato’s skin prickles.

“That was kind of her, wasn't it?” Ryoji says thoughtfully. “To warn you before she unmakes you. B-But, but! Do you know! I think that might be even crueler! If you know what’s coming but you can’t fight it, can’t prevent it… wouldn’t it be better not to know?”

“I—” Minato remembers to breathe. “—never watched The Ring.”

“But you saw the commercials! They terrified you!”

…Yeah. That’s true. Not that Minato's ever told anyone. He has a reputation to uphold. But it wasn’t Sadako’s sodden broken body that scared him, or that stupid VHS. It was the warning. Seven days. That’s how long you have. You can say your goodbyes, make your peace… just keep it short. There’s only one week left.

“Minato-kun?”

Minato shakes himself off. “Look. Do you need to sleep here?”

“In your bed?” Ryoji asks hopefully.

“On the ground.”

“Haha! I know, I know. But it’s alright, Minato-kun. I don’t need anything from you. You’ve already done more than enough.”

Minato glowers. “I—” haven’t done anything. I’ve known you three weeks. What do you even mean? But he doesn’t get the chance to find the words. Ryoji’s already slung one leg over the sill.

“Rest well, my dearest,” Ryoji says, from halfway out the window. “I think you’re going to need it.”

* *

* * *

* *

Mochizuki Ryoji is a threat.

The Anti-Shadow Suppression Weapon AIGIS cannot explain how she knows this. Many humans cannot explain how they know what they know, because human memories are made of meat and light. Their long-term storage systems are highly insufficient and, as such, force them to draw conclusions based on the memory of the memory of data.

Associations, affiliations; pareidolia steered by emotion and allegiance. These things are beneath Aigis. Or, at least, they should be.

They are not.

Aigis knows—knows, without doubt—that Mochizuki Ryoji is a threat. When he draws near, her Anti-Shadow firmware fizzles and sparks. She can sense, with a sensory cortex more specialized than any bio-neural network, the way the air warps around him. The way sunlight seems to flinch.

Yet she cannot explain it. Cannot prove it. Of all the maddening, illogical lessons she’s learned from her time among humans, this is far-and-above the worst. To know what, but not why? To know why, but not how? To identify a threat mathematically, objectively, without any margin of error, and fail to produce any evidence? Aigis cannot imagine a worse fate. (Though, to be fair, ‘imagination’ is not one of her core functions.)

In order to manufacture an artificial Persona-wielder, Aigis was gifted with knowledge of the entirety of written human history. Those annals included the story of Cassandra, a fictional navigator whose RAM had desynchronized from linear chronology. Due to the parasympathetic mirror-neural response embedded in her Papillon Heart, Aigis can relate to this fictional human.

In the stories, the prophet Cassandra devotes herself to the man she loves. Then the both of them are murdered by Clytamnestra, who loved him first. Cassandra knew what was coming, and chose not to act.

This was a miscalculation. A more competent soldier would eliminate the threat on sight.

* * *

In the weeks since Aigis seized her autonomy back from the Chairman, the humans have taught her a great deal about how to be a person. Personhood chiefly involves the consistent exercise of agency and intent. Aigis has integrated these values into her routine operation. She does not simply default to her programming. She ruminates. She deliberates. She considers her motives.

Which is why, at 00:00 02 DEC 2006 (JST), Aigis is so surprised to find herself on the Moonlight Bridge. None of her operators—no, her friends—have requested her presence here. And there’s little to learn about the human condition with all proximal humans locked in coffins.

Her surprise only lasts a moment before she sees the threat, and the pattern comes into focus.

It feels like running antivirus software. Like there’d been a bug in her code—impeding her visual cortex, scrambling her RAM—and now that it’s been repaired, she can finally see clearly. She can see all the data, and her place in it. And she can see him. It. The thing that calls itself Mochizuki Ryoji.

“You are a threat,” she tells it, dizzied by the relief of understanding. “You are called Death.”

The monster doesn’t even look surprised. Its eyes don’t widen. Its pupils don’t dilate. There’s no flash of recognition, resignation. In the time it takes Aigis to load her firearm, the puppet named Ryoji is gone. There is only Death.

“Aigis,” Thanatos says. The corners of its mouth turn up into another lying smile, but its eyes are dark. “I don’t want to fight you.”

The energy building in her firearm crackles. “I do.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone!”

“I’m not anyone,” Aigis says coldly, then pauses to run the query again. “You won’t hurt me.”

“I kind of think I will, though.”

She expels a puff of trapped steam. “If you’re so concerned for my condition, you could allow me to subdue you without resisting.”

“And then you’d let me go?”

“No.”

“See, that’s the problem,” Death says sadly. “It’d be different if you could really do it. But you can’t, so…”

“Allow me to disagree,” she suggests, and opens fire.

* * *

The damage report is incapacitating. Power-capacitors offline. Ignition triggers unresponsive. Circumnavigation cauterized completely.

The heap of smoking rubble that is Aigis glares up at humanity’s doom. “If you were truly capable of human emotion, you would not have inflicted so much damage to my chassis.”

“No,” Thanatos says sadly, “you’re wrong, I think. That might be the most human thing about me: I still want to live. So I couldn’t let you break this vessel. I’m not sure if I could make another.”

She tries to nod, but the joint casings in her spinal tract have fused. “You mean to destroy me.”

“Only eventually! Not for ages. A month or two, at least.”

“Why stay your hand now?”

“Because he loves you,” Thanatos sighs. “And I suppose I love him, too, as much as something like me can. Anyway, I already told you, I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just wanted you to stop shooting me.”

“Then you miscalculated.” Aigis flips on Orgia Mode, overrides the emergency shutdown. She overclocks her shattered propulsion engine point-blank in Death’s face.

The guttering glow of her HUD illuminates his sympathetic smile for only a moment before the lights go out.

You can read the rest of chapter three here: ao3.org/works/58634896/chapters/150195979 Or start from chapter one here: ao3.org/works/58634896/chapters/149399371

[ontosgold]

I LOVE the way you drew ryomina they are soooo 🥺💖🥰🥺🥺🥰🥰🥺🥺💖💖

Curious, I would love to know if you have more personal headcanons for them! I love your art of Minato wearing glasses

Good luck in uni!!!! Hope you have an amazing day/night ^^

THANK YOU ANON :D !!!!!

and yes I have a few more hcs !! thanks for asking hehe now i get to ramble >:)

I have some hcs regarding fashion and such !! I've kinda been thinking about this a bunch ever since I made those casual outfits for ryoji

-ryoji loves expressing himself through fashion, he really enjoys experimenting with clothes and discovering his style

-he likes going on shopping outings with yukari (minato has been dragged along a lot as well) (yukamitsu ryomina double shopping dates !!)

-ryoji's a big fan of yellow and also just any bright colours that go well with it. he's a bright and colourful boy :>

-minato never really cared much about fashion or style, a t-shirt is usually just good enough for him (his style is just. if its comfy and it looks nice then its good) and he's not a fan of bright colours or anything that makes him stand out too much. ryoji's been trying to get him to experiment a bit

and here's some of my more general hcs for them ^_^

-ryoji's a lot quieter when its just him and minato and minato smiles more around ryoji (minato is completely unaware of how much he smiles in ryojis presence and he'll get a lil embarrassed if someone points it out)

-minato's sleepy and tired all of the time. chronically sleepy (<- lol). god's sleepiest soldier. but he feels super comfortable having naps around ryoji. sleeping when he's nearby just feels safe.

-if ryoji and minato are hanging out at the dorm together, there is a fairly high chance that minato will end up asleep.

-also i like to imagine that if the two of them have a movie night at the dorm, they'll both end up asleep by the end with koromaru all cosied up with them too (<- i should draw this sometime)

-minato's super introverted. while he loves spending time around the ppl he cares about, he only has so much energy for socialising. ryoji is the one person minato can spend all his day around without draining the social battery

-also minato's a pretty quiet guy, he's a man of little words. he prefers to listen to people, rather than be the one leading the conversation. and bcs ryoji and mina know eachother like they know themselves, they don't always need to communicate verbally. I like to think they spend a lot of their time sitting in comfortable silence together

-ryoji's super fascinated and interested by all the simple joys in life. whenever he's out with minato he'll point out things like pretty flowers, birds, the way the clouds look. and they'll stop to admire the sunset if they're out late. and of course minato takes a lot of interest in the things ryoji points out to him :>

also i hc ryoji as bi and minato as greyromantic ace ^_^ !! ryoji and minato's relationship is something so much more than a typical romantic relationship to me

[staar5384]

in a room all too familiar

makoto yuki x ryoji mochizuki

a lil hurt comfort, def not proof read i was half asleep writing this LMAO very self indulgent

major endgame persona 3 reload spoilers below!! read with caution!!

Makoto recognized where the two were almost instantly; they were in Gekkoukan’s music club room. Stacks of papers lined the shelves behind the piano. Vacant seats filled the left side of the room, a miscellaneous assortment of instruments filling the right. There was nothing outside the two sets of doors, and the only thing allowed in was the faux sunlight that painted the room a mixture of golds and oranges. It was almost exactly like the day they first met.

The soft sound of piano keys rang through the air, golden sunshine dusting the skin of the boy sitting at the bench. Ryoji’s delicate hands played the instrument with ease, and even though the melody was simple, it was enough to make Makoto sit beside him, watching as he played.

Ryoji finished his song, silence hanging in the air between them. Neither wanted to speak, they knew what this conversation was about to entail, and neither were willing to begin.

Ryoji grabbed onto the end of his yellow scarf, letting out a gentle sigh, “You know, you amaze me, Makoto.” The blue haired boy didn’t reply, just waited for Ryoji to continue. “Did you know you were going to die?”

Makoto gave a silent nod, his eyes fixated on the keys of the piano. The pristine white reflected his pale face; he was still recovering from the mysterious illness that caused his sudden death. “You know they will mourn you, right? And they will never know what you truly did for them?” Makoto nodded once more, still unable to look at his companion.

The two went back to their moment of silence as Ryoji tried to figure out what he should say, more accurately what he could say. Makoto made his choice when giving his life to defeat Nyx, but he didn’t understand it. Wasn’t life supposed to be precious? “You only live once” is what others say, so why throw that life away for others?

Makoto’s first words of their shared time came out so suddenly it caught Ryoji entirely off guard, “I wish you could have lived.”

Ryoji felt himself tense, inhaling a sharp breath, “Makoto, I was never meant to live, not like you or your friends.”

“But-” His voice was shaking now, his hands trembling. “I wanted you to live, I wanted us to live.”

Ryoji smiled, his hands finding their way back to the keys or the piano. The music filled the mostly quiet room as he considered his friend’s words carefully. “Life is so many things,” He started, his fingers grazing over each key gently. “It’s unfair, it’s terrifying.” The melody of Ryoji’s song increased in intensity, but it still sounded beautiful. There was almost a haunting aura about the minor key he played in. “Yet so beautiful,” Ryoji turned his attention away from the piano to look at Makoto. 

Makoto could feel the eyes on his head, so he looked up, locking eyes with Ryoji.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ryoji mumbled, the song slowing as it began to come to its end. 

“Ryoji,” Makoto stuttered his name out, moving closer. Their legs collided as Makoto wrapped his arms around the man beside him. The embrace brought an ubrupt end to the song, but Ryoji didn’t care. His arms wrapped tightly around Makoto’s torso, inhaling deeply. 

The two sat like that for what felt like years. The hug had said so many things that had been left unspoken before the two’s untimely departure. 

“Let’s rest here a while, yeah?” Ryoji said to Makoto in a gentle whisper. 

Makoto shook his head vigorously in agreement, “I’d like that. I would like that a lot.”

[starclast]

Impossible Happiness AU 😇💖😄

Minato-after giving half of his life to the Great Seal, he for sure will die sooner than any of his friends...still, keeps enjoying every moment till the day they finally have to part.

Aigis-though not officially his wife, stays by Minato's side and keeps Ryoji in check. After a certain incident, she and Minato ended up *adopting* a kid who now she is very protective of.

Ryoji-lost its memories and connection to death. his body is still half shadow/half human, so although he doesn't remember or needs it, he can still manifest a little bit of power if necessary. Lives with Minato, Aigis and their adopted son as a *troublesome uncle* in words of everyone.

Mitsuru-proud leader of the Kirijo group and the Shadow Operatives, still, makes sure to have time for her kids and show them how much important they are to her. Works hard everyday to make a better world for her children and the future generations.

Akihiko-renown police officer of Tatsumi Port Island by now, working side by side with Kurosawa even to this day. Makes sure to pass time with their children every chance he can and talk to Mitsuru so she doesn't keep things to herself.

Shinjiro-his life was saved by the clock the twins returned him. Thanks to the intervention of Circe*, he was able to survive even to the side-effects of the pills...at the cost of losing all his memories since he became a persona user and not being able to summon one anymore. Life is pretty confusing sometimes, but thanks to Aki, Ken and Fuuka's help he still manages to go on. Now works as a cook in a small familiar restaurant well known and loved by everyone around Tatsumi Port Island.

Fuuka-works at what she loves and is best at, always being by the side of those who need her. After a looong time of helping each other (and receive a couple more of cooking classes), she and Shinji started dating and are now married with a cute little daughter to take care of. She is the most sweet and supportive mother any kid could ask for.

Minako-like her twin, she will die sooner than everyone else...still, makes sure to make the best of everyday along her dear friends and family. Cheerful and full of energy as ever, her smile keeps makin everyone moving forward no matter what comes their way.

Junpei-with an stable *job* and a fulfilling part time job training a little baseball team, a beautiful wife and a cute daughter by his side, you can be sure he is just the happiest man alive. Sometimes this happiness seems almost like a dream, but even so...he cherishes it with all his heart.

[nero-vanderwolf]

Warm.

That’s what Makoto feels- warm and hazy, like he’s hovering on the edge of consciousness. Somewhere beside him, Kotone is floating too. His sister is with him, and that comforts him.

“You could stay here,” a familiar voice says.

Makoto sits up, staring into the white void.

Ryoji appears, a soft smile on his face. “You and Kotone both. You could stay here, between life and death. Your bodies would remain alive, but your consciousness would be here.”

Makoto pulls him into a wordless hug, holding him close. Kotone stirs beside him.

“I don’t want to stay here,” she says softly, taking Ryoji’s hand in her own. “I promised everyone. I swore to them that I would fight. And I want to keep doing that.”

Ryoji looked at her with a sad smile. “I understand. I will always be with you, though. Right by your side. The offer still stands if ever you change your mind.”

Kotone nods, then extends her hand to Makoto. “C’mon, Mako. We have a promise to fulfill.”

Makoto hesitates. Does he really want to leave Ryoji? Does he really want to go back?

He could stay here, Ryoji said. He could stay here and be happy and stay alive. Everything could be okay.

But then, faintly, he hears noise. It sounds like screaming, like yelling, like pleading.

It’s Yosuke, shouting at him to get up, dammit. It’s Yu fighting off Shadows with Izanagi, begging for him to wake up. It’s Akihiko telling him he’s stronger than that, that he knows Makoto can get up.

“...One day, Ryoji. One day, I’ll come back to you and stay. I promise.”

A light gleams in his and Kotone’s chests, bright and warm. Ryoji smiles sadly, gently pulls his hand away from Makoto’s.

“I’ll wait for you until then,” Ryoji says, and everything fades away into blackness, just like it did when they sacrificed their powers for the Great Seal.

“COME ON! GET UP, MAKOTO!”

Makoto sits up, gasping for air. It feels like any trace of oxygen has been sucked from his lungs, and he’s desperate to get it back. His skin feels clammy and cold, and he struggles to his feet, coughing.

Akihiko swings at a Shadow that definitely had its eyes on Makoto, and Yu obliterates it with a strike of lightning from Izanagi.

“Sorry- Didn’t mean for that to happen,” Makoto mumbles, stabbing at another Shadow. It snarls, attacking Yosuke- who sidesteps it with ease.

“Hey, all good! Just try to stay on your feet next time, okay?” He says, giving Makoto a grin. Makoto still feels like he had all his internal organs rearranged inside him, but he nods and continues to fight.

After the battle, Yu stops, puts a hand on Makoto’s shoulder and taps his earpiece. “Fuuka-san, can you bring my and Junpei-san’s groups back to the entrance?”

“Are you sure?” Fuuka asks. Just like with everything she says, it’s clear she doesn’t doubt Yu as a leader. It’s more confirmation for what she needs to do.

Makoto can think of more than a few times where he’s accidentally activated the teleporter and managed to save himself from accidentally going all the way back to the entrance because Fuuka asked before activating it on her side.

“Yeah, bring us back,” Yu confirms, then seemingly remembers he isn’t talking to Rise, because he hastily adds in a “please-!”

So Makoto and Kotone both end up in what they’ve decided to call time-out, with Yu and Shinji agreeing that they look sickly and need to rest. Akihiko reiterates to Fuuka and Rise that they are absolutely, in no way, by no means, allowed to go back into the dungeon. Which they find incredibly unfair. After all, Ken is their friend, too. They want to help look for him, to help rescue him.

However, despite all their complaints and protests, Shinji and Yu end up being proven right after they fall asleep on each other, covered by Fuuka and Rise’s jackets.

Maybe some things are better sat out.

Maybe other things are better with the power of two ex-Wildcards.

holy shit. the revival. that's so cool and also scary??? like imagine dying and coming back to life, you have no air and your body is cold... i never really thought about the fact they DIE when they fall in battle. also them seeing ryoji when they die... and makoto promising that someday he'll see ryoji again... im not crying you're crying. the fact he doesnt want to die anymore because he wants to live to protect his friends, to live with them, to have a life. its just so...

[windamp]

persona 3 weekly fic rec

SPOILERS BELOW

fics may be from any version of the game

theme: ryoji

telling eyes by Katseester: Minato/Ryoji, 2.111, G

Ryoji Mochizuki walks into your life one day, and it's all downhill from there.

69912 by neonsign: Minato/Ryoji, 2.140, G

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

i call out these prayers to the sky, heavy with thought, see your face by foxmulder_whereartthou: Minato/Ryoji, 1.696, T

Inside of Nyx Avatar, Ryoji - or whatever’s left of him Death’s clinging to, desperate - feels his personality be digested.

Song for a Winter's Night by akisazame: Minako/Ryoji, 2.611, T

In December, Ryoji tries to visit Minako secretly. Minako isn't having any of it.

put that weight on my shoulders by annperkinsface: Junpei & Ryoji, 2.597, G

A mournful shadow passes over Junpei's face. Ryoji wonders at it, swallowing back the same questions he's been swallowing back since Junpei showed up to their internship looking like someone had borrowed his skin and was walking around in it, but then Junpei's face cracks into a small smile and he looks like himself again, the same boy that immediately proclaimed himself Ryoji's friend in their first meeting and the first person Ryoji went out for ramen with, the noodles at Hagakure seeming to taste more delicious in the warm light of his companionship.

The Monsters at the End of the World by Stealth_Noodle: Ryoji + Aigis, 8.656, T

As the world turns obliviously toward its end, Aigis is the only one who remembers. She's also the only one hallucinating a dead Ryoji.

Winter Pilgrim by Stealth_Noodle: Ryoji & Others, 24.039, T

Ryoji does December, mostly by happening to Social Links and Not Quite Getting It. (Or, Akinari waits, the Kitamuras feed a stray, Rio tries girl tactics, Maiko fails at Stranger Danger, Saori goes to Catholic school, Mutatsu goes home, Ms. Toriumi attempts a good deed, Koromaru smells things, and Kurosawa has an uneasy night.)

[cosmama]

❛ tell me. will it help if i stay away from all that is good and precious in this world ? ❜

thou must live, die, and know. // ੈ���‧ ₊˚

let me catch your tears and quench your fears with joy : the maternal being doesn't interject as he speaks, eyes distant and unreadable while the pair wander through the closest thing she knows as a home: the dark void of space. their hands remain tenderly intertwined, a small comfort in the midst of his existential despair - their quiet footsteps creating ripples throughout the sea of stars that surround them. she is an attentive, captive listener, appreciating his company and allowing him to express himself without judgement in return. she could lecture him about how running away would not ease his suffering ( it had never eased hers ) but she refrains from doing so. it's a lesson he needs to figure out for himself anyway.

❛ i suppose you could do that. ’ is the answer given at last, her eyes slightly narrowing in thought. ❛ but are you going to run away from me too then? or do you not consider me to be precious? ’ a surprisingly hearty laugh echos across the vast cosmos after she glances at him and catches sight of his slightly terrified expression - always worried about causing offense. the stars surrounding them join in on her jovial teasing: twinkling a bit brighter in response to the mother's rare comedic outburst before slowly returning to their usual glow. despite how it may seem on the surface, she is empathetic to his current crisis ( how could she not be? ) and it pains her more than he realizes to see him so...defeated and unsure of where he belongs.

she desperately wishes he could see himself through her eyes.

❛ ryoji. ’ the woman finally speaks his chosen name in this form, sighing softly when she reluctantly releases his hand from her own. they find themselves clasped behind her back and a gentle humming flows along with her movements - an oddly familiar tune filling the space between her hesitant thoughts and unspoken words. bright, beautiful lavender eyes close as if in prayer and she decides to confess a small secret to him. ❛ i think i would find myself rather lonely without your visits. ’ her voice is light but firm; the even tone of her voice betrayed by the tears that were beginning to flow from her eyes.

she turns to him, eyes fluttering open before the woman proceeds to bless him with a rare and treasured gift: a smile. ❛ even if you may not believe it, yours is a most precious existence little one. ’ he's been taller than her for quite some time now, but old habits were hard to break - at least when you are as old as them. reaching up to cup his face in her loving hands, a thumb softly wipes away a sole tear that manages to run along his pale cheek. ❛ so stop running from yourself. living is hard - cruel even. but we must experience suffering to understand joy too. ’

death is no different, is what remains unspoken between the two, the obvious not needing to be stated. to truly appreciate the gift of being alive - to savor all of its experiences, from triumph to heartache, one must be aware of the ever-looming presence of its inevitable end. she had known it many times over the course of her long existence. death was a consistent friend, a welcomed face, always there to usher her back to the cauldron for rest once it was time. she could never resent him.

❛ i think...you deserve to experience the beauty of life: its joys. its hardships. all of it. ’ she couldn't give him the answer to what he sought but she could at least try to push him in a better, more productive direction. ❛ you deserve to try again and again until you find the peace you are searching for. ’

-or until you learn that you are just as good and pure as anything else in this world. but she doesn't say that part out loud. only letting her hands finally drop from his face while a sigh, quieter and more resigned this time, escapes her lips. soon silence sits between them again - aside from her soft sniffling as she wipes tears away from her redden cheeks. the woman is slightly embarrassed that she's gone ahead and done the exact thing she had told herself she wouldn't do: act like a lecturing mother.

❛ but... ’ she continues, her voice trailing off into a faint whisper. ❛ if the pain is too great, and you must take your leave of us... i will accept your decision too.’

[narrators-journal]

21 & 24 Ryomina? I love how you write them btw <3

Holy SHIT. This bastard was originally going to be sooo much longer, but ended up editing it down because I. Just did not have it in me to write a long, detailed set up without it feeling bloated, at least to me. Regardless, tho! I hope you enjoy this lil ditty, and I hope it’s good and spicy for ya, I had a good amount of fun writing it, and I like the concept, even if I had to dumb it down for my own sanity, and for the sake of not writing another 4-5 page monster. Not when the other asks I have, and any future ask, risks being that long too.

As for this ask, tho, I think in the original draft, before I cut so much of the opening, I kinda accidentally tied this to one of my aus? And that’s pretty amusing lol. It’s not a necessity, u can read it as normal or within the universe of Winter is a Lovely Season for Romance and Funerals. It’s up to you. Also! A little side note that I forgot to clarify in the rules! I will be taking kinktober asks through out the month! The ask box doesn’t close until November 1st!

Kinktober prompt list: Here Kinktober masterlist: Here

CW: Mirror sex, pretty explicitly nonconsensual use of aphrodisiacs. Yeah, this one’s dark. Yandere behavior, implied hostage situation. That should be it this time.

“Look at you, funeral lily.” Ryoji Mochizuki hummed to the beautiful, midnight-haired man in the full body mirror. A soft smile on his face while he watched his arms snake around Minato’s waist to gently sway with him and watch his dull eyes follow his own hips in his reflection. And, of course, to run his palm over the skin of his bare thigh until he could slide it upwards to grope the meat of his ass and feel the smaller man shudder against him. “You’re so beautiful. I really am blessed in a dark way to have you here with me.” He purred with a nip to the wildcard’s offered throat.

Which, Minato let him do with nothing but a low whine stirred up with the embers of lust that Ryoji stoked with each gentle kiss and squeeze. So, it didn’t take long for the brunette’s own lust to warm his skin and pull himself off of the midnight-haired man to go find the portable bottle of lubricant that he kept in his bathroom’s medicine cabinet. Though, he was back to his spot in front of the full body mirror.

Where, he pushed the smaller man forward until he had to support himself against the wall that the mirror was hung on before he dripped thick lube onto his fingers and pressed the pads of his fingers against the wildcard’s hole to earn a low moan. A noise that swiftly found its way down to the god’s erection and was followed by the sweet moan that slipped out when Ryoji slipped his fingers into Minato. “Good boy, Mina. You’re so obedient.” He hummed, one hand kept on the wildcard’s hip to keep him in place while the other prepped him with slow, teasing thrusts. The drugs in Minato’s system a helpful leg up in the slow breakdown of Minato’s usually sleepy expression into a lustful mess of need. Something that Ryoji happily drank in through the reflection of his lover’s body in the mirror. A small boon to the quickly maddening excitement that built up in Ryoji’s belly, but more than enough to make him retract his fingers to instead replace it with his cock. “You’re so gorgeous, Funeral Lily…” Ryoji panted into Minato’s ear while he kept his sapphire eyes locked onto the wildcard’s drug-dulled eyes through his reflection. “If only you adored me half as much as I do you...” He continued, his voice a husky growl that made the wildcard tighten up wonderfully around his length. But, Ryoji knew how shallow that excitement was in contrast to the way the god’s cock twitched and throbbed. As much as the god wanted to think that his lover truly enjoyed when his voice slipped into the more feral depths, he knew that the arousal that glowed in those beautiful storm clouds was fake.

Each gasp and moan wasn’t born from the midnight-haired man’s love of the way Ryoji’s cock slammed into him, or the bite of his nails into the man’s hips. It was from the ecstasy-esque drug that Ryoji put into the wildcard’s orange juice. Which, would’ve been a wound to the brunette’s ego, if the darker parts of the god’s psyche didn’t get some twisted pleasure out of the wildcard’s lack of autonomy.

So, even though the squeeze of Minato’s muscles was utterly thoughtless, every weak whimper of, “Ryoji…” from the dark-haired man’s gasping mouth was still enough to tighten the coil in the tall brunette’s belly. Especially when just enough despair slipped into his words or the reflected expression through the drug’s effects to make the god think that, while not a lot, Minato was still somewhat aware of his touches. Of the stimulation that flooded his body with each wet slap of the god’s hips against his ass.

A thought that made the god moan louder and tighten his grip on the blue-haired man’s hips before he buried his face into the man’s neck as he spoke again. His voice laced with a dark growl as he reiterated. “Mina~ I...I love you so much, funeral lily. So, so much.” despite the painful ache of the tight coil in Ryoji’s belly, more to himself than the eager maid. The vibration of his husky voice over the man’s smooth, pale skin matched with another needy moan from his lover. That same need visible when Ryoji’s sapphire eyes looked back to the mirror to watch as each of his thrusts jostled his lover’s body against the silver-coated glass of the fullbody mirror.

Until, all too quickly for the god’s liking, the blue-haired man’s groggy voice piped back up in a whimper. “M-Mochi...I’m gonna cum…” Ryoji only able to grunt in acknowledgment with how tight the coil in his belly had gotten at that point. Though, the spring refused to come undone inside of the tight warmth of the wildcard’s ass, even when the shorter man’s orgasm raked through his body.

Yet, that didn’t stop Ryoji’s thrusts, or loosen his grip on his lover’s hips. And, when Minato began to squirm from overstimulation, the god simply sped up. With his best attempts to string together coherent comforts to sooth the drugged man’s pained noises. Though, it was hard for the god to tell if his lover really understood him or not through the frustration and need that stacked up against the dam.

Though, beyond the surface level, Ryoji didn’t really care how his thrusts made Minato dig his nails into the mirror’s frame and whine. All he really cared about in that moment was the chase for his own bliss. Until, finally, that dam cracked, and the brunette’s pleasure crashed through to flood him with the blissful heat of release.

A heat that lingered on the god’s skin for a long moment while he admired the bliss-drunk expression in his lover’s reflection, and the heave of his chest. “Alright, now we can bathe.” Ryoji hummed as he pulled out and straightened. A hand ran through his hair as he smiled at the drugged up wildcard, who could only muster a small, “Yaaaay…” as he let the god half herd, and half carry him to the now-cold bath that had been left to patiently wait for them.

[extinct-fish]

Uni been kicking my ass, but here's a drabble from the Full Moon fic (Werewolf Ryomina fic)

Emerging from the corn field was a tall woman, around 8’7, who had black hair that was not longer than just barely past her shoulder, pushed back like a lion’s mane, and eyes quite red. Her skin was quite a bit pale, and she was dressed in black.

“Ah, Nyx! This is Makoto Yuki, he’s helping with the Black Death!” Erebus called.

“Hey, share some of that height with the rest of us!” Makoto joked, “Some of us are in need of inches.”

The comment got Nyx laughing, as it was quite clear that she had never heard that specific comment before. 

“That’s a new one!” Nyx chuckled.

“Anyways, this is my wife, Nyx Mochizuki,” Erebus introduced, “She’s tall because of gigantism. Being a giant lady has its perks, but one of them is terrible back pain.”

“Says the one who has pelvis problems,” Nyx muttered.

“Hey- in my defense, it’s your fault!”

“Yeah, but you were the one who begged me to do it.”

“Hush, you know I like it rough!”

“How long have you two been married?” Makoto asked.

“We’ve been married long enough,” Nyx answered vaguely.

“Honey, it’s only been almost 20 years.”

“Oh hush, Erie.”

“Anyways-” Makoto tried to refocus their attention, “I heard from Erebus that your son saw the Black Death.”

“Oh- yes, the Black Death. I’ve only known about it from the grapevine, but apparently, it’s pretty smart. It can leave behind compensation for the lost items, and can work stuff that we can work with.”

“Really?”

“Yep. It also has escaped many traps, so it’s going to be tough catching it- anyways, why are you asking?”

“I was asked by the mayor to take care of it.”

“Oof, Kirijo-san’s very tough to work under.”

“Ahhh, but I bet this boy can do it!” Erebus chuckled.

“Oh yeah! Makoto’s pretty good at taking down werewolves-” Junpei realized, “I remember there was a red werewolf that had some sort of blade on its head and he took care of it!”

“Medea?” Makoto answered.

“Yeah- that! I remember that it took my pigs and my Star-of-Bethlehems! Too bad Chidori moved away after that, but I don’t blame her, she was prolly scared.”

Makoto knew exactly who Medea was. He was the one who put her in the sanctuary far from people. She was worried she would never see Junpei again. However, he told her that once everything settles down, then he will tell Junpei about the location. With that information, Chidori agreed to live her life in that sanctuary, for both her sake and Junpei’s. 

“How do you even do it anyways?” Junpei asked.

“Well, as much as they are wild, they don’t really deserve to be killed slowly. They just get a fast death,” Makoto lied.

Nyx looked at Erebus briefly, seemingly with doubt.

“Wow, so even though you hunt werewolves, you still treat them humanely?”

“Yep. My sister said it’s like putting down a rabid dog.”

“Ohh.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Erebus commented dryly.

“Well, I’m just quoting what she said.”

“Well, I think you should be careful this full moon,” Nyx mentioned, “I’ve heard from Ryoji that he saw a much larger werewolf with the Black Death.”

“Oh, thanks for that, Nyx!”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” Makoto promised.

“Please be safe!” Erebus bid adieu.

“You can do it!” Junpei encouraged.

Makoto, while rolling his eyes from Junpei’s encouragement, did smile a bit. He left the farm with valuable information: the Black Death is smart enough to break out of traps, it is able to leave behind compensation, and is also seen with a much larger werewolf not known to the town.

He met back up with Orpheus, who was talking with some women about the topic.

“You are so brave for taking it on!” one of the girls gushed.

“I’m scared, but as long as I have Makoto and Kotone, I should be fine-” he noticed Makoto, “Speak of the devil- did you find anything?”

“I was at the Mochizuki household earlier and I learned some pretty cool things.”

��From Mr. Mochizuki?”

“Yep. You remember how Junpei whined about losing sheep?”

“Very vividly.”

“The Black Death left behind a bag of coins as compensation.”

“Wow.”

“And it can break out of traps.”

Orpheus’s face paled as Makoto continued.

“And apparently, it doesn’t hunt alone. There’s a much larger one out there.”

“Makoto, we are really in over our heads.”

“Oh relax, Orpheus! The bigger ones usually have more problems than a broken factory! It’ll be a piece of cake to trap them both.”

“Still! The Black Death is smart!”

“You forget that Koto’s plans usually work out?”

“Oh right- out of the three of us, that wildcard comes up with the craziest, yet stupidly-working plans.”

“Like I said, the worst that could happen is that at least one of us gets bitten.”

[delusionisaplace]

lovers to strangers: moments in bliss

just a sweet little scene between ryoji and kaiyo i finished a few nights ago :))

words: 786

Ryoji raised his hand to Kaiyo’s face, his fingers gently exploring Kaiyo’s hazel hair, carefully twirling the delicate curls between his digits, taking their time to fully appreciate the feeling. Each strand was silky to touch, a comforting warmth encased within, carrying a scent that was uniquely his—a faint blend of cherry blossom and crisp, fresh linen. Ryoji slowly let his hand descend from Kaiyo’s cheek to his lips with a caress both tender and soft, like the feel of a whispered secret, or the gentle brush of a butterfly’s wing against a blooming flower.

His hand found a resting place on Kaiyo’s lips, tracing their plump outline with his thumb. They were vibrant and red - a tantalizing contrast to his pale skin, soft and moist like the petals of a rose, fresh with the morning dew. Ryoji gently tilted Kaiyo’s chin upward, to get a better look at the face that endlessly captivated him, to take in his ethereal beauty.

Ryoji took a prolonged moment to truly absorb the sight, letting his eyes leisurely trail over Kaiyo’s features, observing each little detail with the eye of an artist studying a masterpiece: the smooth expanse of his pale skin, glowing softly under the moonlight had the pristine quality of a porcelain doll, flawless and unblemished from bruises and scars. Kaiyo’s body was a harmonious blend of graceful lines and curves: willowy, gracile, and subtly inviting. His waist was slim, almost feminine in its narrowness, his limbs were slender and elongated, and yet, his figure possessed an enticing curve that lent him an air of allure. His hips, a constant tease to Ryoji, seemed to beckon him closer even when Kaiyo was lost to his dreams.

His hazel eyes, reminiscent of a cold, fall afternoon, shone with an inner light, with the purity of a child’s as they fluttered open from Ryoji’s feather-light touches. His cheeks were rosy from the cool night air, and his expression, sweet and gentle, not unlike that of a fawn cautiously meeting Ryoji’s gaze.

He’s…so precious. Ryoji found himself thinking, overwhelmed by the sight, So fragile.

This was followed by another thought, a sudden idea that made his heart flutter with a rush of excitement and a hint of nervousness. It was simple, yet profound—how Ryoji would love to see this angelic being beside him each night, next to him each morning, this very presence that was as comforting as a warm blanket, as he drifted off to sleep and as he woke up each day.

“What is it?” Kaiyo softly whispered, a slight, somewhat sleepy smile playing on his lips, his voice barely more than a breath in the stillness of the night.

He’s perfect. He’s all I could ever need.

“Move in with me. Let’s live together again.” Ryoji found himself blurting out, his voice steady and filled with resolute determination. His eyes met Kaiyo’s, filled with a quiet devotion and a love so profound it seemed to radiate from the depths of his heart, from the recesses of his very being. “I’m serious.” He added to let Kaiyo know he meant each and every word with all his heart and soul.

The room fell quiet as Ryoji awaited Kaiyo’s response, the silence between them stretching out like an open, endless field. He looked into Ryoji’s eyes, his own wide with surprise - a surprise that slowly began to form into a soft, delicate hope. A hope that was tender and fragile, like the first green leaf of spring blooming on the branch of a tree, hardened by the winter.

“Are you… Are you sure?” Kaiyo’s heart pounded in his chest, a shaky rhythm that matched Ryoji’s own.

Ryoji responded with nothing but a nod as he cupped Kaiyo’s face, his thumb caressing Kaiyo’s cheekbone in a soft, reassuring manner. His gaze was steady, unwavering, a silent testament to his sincerity. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he finally said, his tone firm yet gentle, echoing off the walls.

Ryoji carefully searched Kaiyo’s eyes for the slightest change, nervous that Kaiyo would say no, nervous that he would reject his proposition—Kaiyo’s eyes shimmered in the moonlight, twin pools of warmth and affection, as he took in Ryoji’s words, allowing them to sink in, to take root in the fertile soil of his heart.

And then he smiled. It wasn’t a small, sleepy smile anymore. It was a bright smile, like the sun peeking out after a devastating storm, casting its golden rays on everything in its path. His eyes sparkled with unshed tears of joy, his heart swelling with a happiness so extreme he thought he might burst.

That smile was all the confirmation Ryoji needed.

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

a glittering house of cards [ch 3/3]

A retrospective on everyone's favorite Fortune Arcana (and only 15 years too late!!) [PERSONA 3 SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE GAME]

It’s nice to think that some things are universal. Meeting estranged family is always a little awkward, even when your mom is the moon. At the shuddering heights of Tartarus, Thanatos gives Nyx a wan smile. “Hello, mother,” he says dutifully. “You look well.” The moon glares down at him, one enormous pea-green eye. Even without what might be called a face, Nyx still manages to convey a faint air of surprise. It figures. Kids never turn out how you expect. “It's the scarf, isn’t it,” he says, looking down at it. “You think it makes me look frivolous.”

I suspect that this goes without saying, but just to be safe: spoiler warning for the end of Persona 3 Portable and, by extension, ancillary spoilers for P3/P3R/etc. You can start from part one here.

It’s nice to think that some things are universal. Meeting estranged family is always a little awkward, even when your mom is the moon.

At the shuddering heights of Tartarus, Thanatos gives Nyx a wan smile.

“Hello, mother,” he says dutifully. “You look well.”

The moon glares down at him, one enormous pea-green eye. Even without what might be called a face, Nyx still manages to convey a faint air of surprise. It figures. Kids never turn out how you expect.

“It's the scarf, isn’t it,” he says, looking down at it. “You think it makes me look frivolous.”

Nyx gives up on understanding. She does not know the steps to this dance. Sorry I’m late, traffic was hell. You wouldn’t believe the congestion in the mesosphere. You look wonderful, you’ve grown so much, but you’re too skinny! A growing boy needs to eat! Words that mean nothing and words that mean everything. Muscle memories and rituals and expectations to subvert. Chaos into order, dust into meat. Comedy. Drama. Heartache and heartbreak and limited-time-only seasonal crepes. The whole bloody theater of life. It isn’t for her.

(It wasn’t supposed to be for Thanatos, either. It’s just that he got to borrow a little, for a while.)

Thanatos watches himself disappear.

It doesn’t hurt. Dying never does. People just get the wrong idea because they’ve got so used to living, which hurts immensely.

The last indignity is this: no matter how much you didn't want to, if you live long enough, eventually, you will have to see yourself become your mother.

###

Ryoji dreams.

Which is weird because, as a rule, the dead generally don’t. Death isn’t a long sleep. It’s just what happens when everything else stops. No more sleep. No more dreams. No more anything, ever. Pretty much by definition. But that doesn’t read as well on the bereavement card.

Nevertheless, Ryoji dreams. Maybe it’s another of his little perks. More special treatment to reward him for being a monster who shattered into twelve nightmares and a leech.

(It couldn’t be mercy. Nyx doesn’t know the meaning of the word.)

Ryoji dreams of a sky stained red and a sea painted black. Asphalt studded with steel coffins, hiding meat that’s only just begun to bloat. Ribbons of yellow and green pulse from the moon. Putrescent, like a wound.

One car remains on the crumbling bridge, crunched and upended but intact. Something inside it calls to him.

Death draws near.

There are four bodies in the car. Three of them are empty, but there is light still stirring in the fourth. She wriggles against the belt that binds her to her seat, one tiny hand clutching at the hand of something dead. Its hand looks just like hers. A perfect mirror.

Thanatos cannot understand. What is it that makes life so alluring? Why do the living cling so hard to something they were never going to keep?

It matters little. The girl is an opportunity. A shelter from which to gather strength. Hiding inside her will be easy. Death dwells in everything that breathes.

The girl hardens as she ages, like a scab. Scar tissue seals over her wounds. Slowly she learns how to pretend. How to hold out her hands and put on a smile.

She chases sensation. Blood on her knuckles, ash in her mouth. The sting of the safety pin through the lobe of her ear, her yelp muffled by fabric clenched between her teeth. Grit and gravel ground into her knees. Warm palms clenched tight against hers. She feels something, for a moment, and then nothing. None of it is anything. No feeling ever lasts.

She goes to sleep in the dark, alone.

But she isn’t alone.

(She’s never alone.)

The girl transfers schools, again. She’s made too many enemies, and still more false friends. She has donned a thousand masks. She knows, now, how to pretend.

Soon it will be over. The watcher takes comfort in that. Perhaps the girl would, too, if only he could tell her.

All at once, he finds that he can. Not only can—he must. There’s a contract that she must sign. An agreement that every living thing has already made; that they’ll make again and again and again. Someday, the pain will end. Memento Mori: Remember That You Will Die.

And when she opens the dormitory door, for the first time, she can see him.

The camera tilts. The witnessed, bearing witness. The watcher, suddenly seen.

“Hello,” Pharos tells her, and smiles. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

The End

It's the end of the world.

Trees shudder and creak. Leaves pucker and drop. Steam curls off the surface of a sea already beginning to boil. And at the top of a very tall tower, nine specks of dust prepare for their final fight.

(There will be no more fighting, after this. There will be no ‘after.’ Only peace.)

Nyx will not mourn this world. Death is not the cost of life—it is its maker. Not an end, but an absence. What is light without shadow? What is shadow without something to cast it?

Death bounds life and life breeds death. Death defines life defines death, defines life, and around and around they go. Ring around the ro~sie, a pocket full of po~sies. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down. Such a merry game! Such a merry chase! And then we all fall down.

There is no absolute truth, except for this: all living things are born to die. It is the ouroboros of existence. A snake can only swallow its own tail for so long before it runs out of tail.

You can finish part three here. Or start from the beginning here.

[meli-r]

Redemption v2.17

Yashiro stood in an operating theater flooded by a harsh, blinding light. Ryoji Hashida lay strapped to a table, his eyes wide with terror as he struggled futilely against his restraints. The cold, weighty scalpel in her hand gleamed in the unforgiving brightness.

Beside her, Touma's grip enveloped her wrist, guiding her hand with a gentle force. The scalpel descended toward Hashida's skull, eliciting muffled screams that reverberated through the air. Yashiro's heart raced as the blade cleaved through flesh and bone with precision, releasing a river of blood that painted a tableau.

Hashida's struggles grew weaker, his life force gradually ebbing away. Yashiro's movements were deliberate, almost mechanical, as the crimson tide flowed freely. With a final, decisive incision, a rush of power surged through her.

Hashida's lifeless form now adorned the table like a masterpiece. Yashiro turned to Touma, her eyes meeting his. The darkness that had clouded her mind seemed to dissipate, leaving behind an eerie calmness.

The sterile theater transformed, melting into an opulent dining setting. Yashiro and Touma sat across from each other, bathed in the soft flicker of candlelight. Crystal goblets cradled in their hands contained a deep red liquid that shimmered like rubies.

As they raised their glasses in a silent toast, the clinking sound reverberated like an echo. Yashiro brought the glass to her lips, tasting the metallic tang of the liquid on her tongue—a reminder that it was not wine she was sipping, but blood. Touma's lips curled into a smile as he drank from his own glass.

With a jolting gasp, Yashiro snapped awake, her body drenched in a cold sweat that clung to her like a suffocating shroud. She pushed herself upright, her muscles taut with tension. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she allowed her feet to touch the cool floor, sending a shiver up her spine.

Tremors coursed through her body, and she wrapped her arms around herself, attempting to dispel the lingering chill that clung to her skin. The room swayed as a wave of dizziness washed over her, prompting her to clutch the wall for support. Nausea churned within her, threatening to engulf her senses.

With her eyes tightly shut, Yashiro focused on her breath, drawing slow, deliberate inhalations that gradually calmed her racing heart. The nauseating sensation subsided, replaced by a lingering sense of discomfort.

Pushing herself away from the wall, Yashiro steadied herself, the room slowly coming back into focus. The dim light filtering through the curtains painted a gentle, ethereal glow. Her gaze shifted around the room, her surroundings familiar yet cast in a slightly different light.

Standing by the window, her fingers brushed against the fabric of the curtains, and she stared out at the delicate hues of the dawning sky. The remnants of the nightmarish vision loosened their grip, the dizziness fading, and Yashiro found herself standing resolute—a survivor of her own mind.

The grand hall of the academy buzzed with life, its lights gently flickering and conversations forming a soothing murmur. The anniversary celebration was in full swing, a blend of parents, students, and faculty members mingling in harmony. Yashiro found herself within this lively tapestry, her eyes keenly scanning the room.

Amidst the festivity, a familiar voice broke through the ambient noise, softly calling her name. Yashiro turned to see Shimotsuki Mika gracefully weaving her way towards her. In her wake followed a group of girls from their class, laughter flowing like infectious music. Yashiro couldn't help but smile, drawn in by their shared camaraderie.

"How I’d love it if there were boys here. Just imagine them mustering the courage to ask us to dance," Shimotsuki's eyes gleamed with mischief, her smile lighting up the moment with anticipation.

The other girls chimed in, their voices harmonizing in a chorus of dreams and agreements. Their circle formed a cocoon of relaxed conversations, painting a backdrop of youthful enthusiasm against the backdrop of celebration.

“Why don’t you tell them about Sadao?” a calm voice joined the conversation from behind.

Turning her gaze, Yashiro found Makishima Shougo, attired in a beige three-piece suit that harmonized with the amber shade of his eyes. His arms folded casually, his intent gaze fixed on her.

"We lived in the same neighborhood when I was a child," Yashiro began. "We'd scheme to get by."

“Tell them about Shinjuku,” Makishima prompted her with a casual incline of his head.

"It was during the night, at a dimly lit bar. The hour was late, and the place was quiet. That's when I met the owner's son—he was older than me."

“What did you do?” he inquired.

"We talked in the alley. A sneeze signaled Sadao to appear. I told the boy I'd meet him another day, then rendezvoused with Sadao."

“What did you do with the money?” a sly grin played on Makishima's lips.

"Our adventures included movies, the theater... until a disagreement arose about the number of books I bought. It got under my skin," Yashiro's voice held traces of nostalgia and amusement.

Amid the laughter of the group, Yashiro felt a sense of detachment, as if the narratives flowed around her. The storytelling continued, anecdotes ranging from lighthearted to profound. Yashiro seized the opportunity as her classmates remained engrossed in their tales. Turning to Makishima, she took a deep breath, signaling her readiness to seize a moment of solitude within the celebration. Together, they moved through the bustling room, a dynamic pair amidst the festivity.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Yashiro remarked, her tone a mix of caution and concern.

"I wouldn't miss this splendid celebration," Makishima responded with nonchalance.

"Your attitude towards this situation seems rather light. There's a police car stationed outside. They're screening everyone entering. You're involving yourself in something that might be beyond your control."

"I appreciate the company. Shall we?" Makishima's gaze met hers as he extended his hand, an inviting gesture. Yashiro hesitated briefly before placing her hand in his. Together, they began to move to the rhythm of the music.

"I understand this is very challenging for you, but we can't both lead," Makishima shook his head.

Yashiro exhaled a heavy sigh, her initial resistance fading as the music continued to wrap around them. She felt herself falling into step with his movements. He guided her with a touch that was both reassuring and compelling. Reluctantly, she relinquished control and allowed herself to be led, her steps aligning with his. Their motions flowed seamlessly, as though they had practiced this dance countless times before.

"How did you know about Shinjuku?" her voice lowered, a tinge of intrigue coloring her words.

"I didn't," Makishima admitted.

"But you brought it up."

“It was a lovely story,” he raised an eyebrow. “The bar, the alley.”

"I made it up," she confessed, a playful grin dancing on her lips.

Makishima's eyes narrowed, a low chuckle escaping his lips. They continued to sway, the world around them fading as they surrendered to the rhythm of the dance, paying little heed to the path they were treading or the tempo they were setting.

“There’s Kirino’s father, the lawyer. Behind me, on my left. Short black hair. Dark suit. Old brown watch,” Yashiro's voice dropped lower. “Altoromagi Abele.”

“Do you think he's planning something against her father?” Makishima's inquiry was contemplative.

“It’s just a hunch.”

“A hunch, huh? Your intuition seems keen when it comes to unraveling a man’s motives.”

“That’s his daughter, Kirino Touko,” Yashiro nodded towards a young woman with wavy black hair who was conversing with other students.

“I remember that name. He often said she reminded him of someone named... princess,” Makishima frowned momentarily.

“That’s what his mother used to call his sister. And now he killed her,” Yashiro’s eyes widened.

Her gaze shifted from Makishima to the unfolding scene. Touma was leaving the crowd, ascending the stairs with Kirino’s father. They were engaged in a hushed conversation.

“What’s she doing?” Yashiro mumbled, watching Kirino approach them. “I need to stop her.”

“There’s a door behind you, to your right. It'll take you to them,” Makishima nodded.

“I'll need a distraction. I'm not supposed to be here due to my suspension.”

“Why did you come then?” Makishima asked.

“I was curious.”

“We make quite the pair, especially when we're up to no good,” he remarked with a smile. “Just be yourself.”

He spun her around deliberately, causing Yashiro to accidentally bump into a woman carrying a tray of glasses. The tray crashed to the ground, glass shattering and a minor commotion ensuing. Makishima turned away and melted into the crowd, skillfully fading from sight and blending with the masses, effectively diverting the crowd's attention.

Yashiro seized the opportunity amidst the chaos, slipping down an unoccupied hallway and discreetly entering the door Makishima had indicated. The academy staff seemed oblivious to her departure. As she traversed the corridor, her footsteps echoed softly in the quiet expanse, but an unsettling feeling of foreboding slowly crept over her.

Back in the main hall, the celebration swirled onward. A chill traversed Yashiro's spine, an intangible sensation she couldn't shake. Amidst the music, conversations, and laughter, she strained to hear something more. Above the din, a faint clicking sound emerged, resonating through the hallway.

The noise drew her attention, its source elusive. The sensation of being watched encroached upon her, casting an eerie sense of solitude aside. Doubt tainted her perception, casting shadows upon her surroundings.

Yashiro's heartbeat hastened as she pushed forward through the corridor. Guided by instinct, she veered toward the direction Kirino had taken. Shallow breaths punctuated the charged air as Yashiro approached Kirino with measured steps.

"Kirino-san," Yashiro's voice interjected with gentleness and resolve. Kirino turned, meeting Yashiro's gaze.

"Takahashi-san? What are you doing here?" Kirino's tone held a blend of curiosity and suspicion.

"I was looking for you, actually. I was just discussing cameras and photography with some friends, and your expertise came to mind. One of them is in the market for a camera but is uncertain about the make and model... I thought you could provide some guidance..."

“Oh, sure! I was searching for Touma. I thought I saw him with my dad,” Kirino's gaze flitted between Yashiro and the direction she had been heading.

Yashiro's mind raced, strategizing the unfolding scenario.

"Are you entirely certain it was him? Sometimes our perceptions can deceive us. I spotted them in the main hall," Yashiro suggested in a soothing tone. “Come on, let’s head back. We don't want to attract undue attention by wandering around.”

After a brief pause, Kirino acquiesced. Yashiro conjured a reassuring smile and turned to lead the way back to the main hall. Yet, an unshakable sense of surveillance gripped Yashiro. Then, just as Yashiro believed they were in the clear, a distinct sound reached her ears–the faint click of a pen. Barely audible, it sent a shiver down her spine. Her gaze darted down the corridor, but there was naught but an empty passage, dimly lit.

"Takahashi-san, you seem a bit off. Everything alright?" Kirino's voice broke through Yashiro's reverie.

Yashiro turned her attention back to Kirino, mustering another smile, “Yes, I'm fine. Let's continue on.”

As Kirino nodded, Yashiro's gaze involuntarily returned to the corridor, her sense of unease deepening.

As the event drew to a close, the principal delivered a few closing remarks to the attendees before expressing gratitude for their presence. Applause followed, and as people began to make their exit, a handful remained, lingering in conversation.

In the heart of the room, a cluster of students encircled someone, engaged in a search. Yashiro's gaze narrowed, revealing Kirino Touko within the group. Their eyes locked, and Kirino navigated through the crowd toward Yashiro.

“Takahashi-san, did you happen to see my dad?” Touko inquired.

Yashiro shook her head. Her attention briefly connected with Makishima, who was engaged in conversation with some faculty members. A fleeting exchange of glances passed between them before they both left the room.

Kirino's hands tightened in front of her as she scanned the surroundings. Parents departed alongside their children, yet her father remained absent. Yashiro's breath caught as her attention gravitated towards Kirino. An unexplainable force drew her to the young woman's presence.