#persona 5 g/t

[averagegtenjoyer]

Who’s trash now, little detective?

+ bonus minikechi

[andtheyreonfire]

take me home (what a wonderful way to go)

ao3

WC: 3,288

AN: something of a sequel to all to make you mine. For G/t July 2024, Day 9: Warmth.

~

Ren is cold.

It’s a familiar feeling, as it would be for a borrower. He’s four inches tall. His body doesn’t particularly like keeping heat. Most of the time he deals with layers and layers of scrap fabric, insulating every corner he might walk in, or, when none of that works, grappling into a heating vent so his face doesn’t turn blue and ugly.

He’s a step ahead of other borrowers, too, in that he was very purposefully and by no means accidentally discovered by a few humans. By—ten-ish humans. Whom, whoever, are rightfully enamored with him and give him everything a four inch tall person could ever desire, like warm food and their credit card numbers.

He is currently away from nine of his humans. He would currently kill for a bowl of Sojiro’s curry. He would even beg for a single noodle of Yusuke’s, before he traps him for stealing and forces him to model for several hours as—not even an act retribution, just forgetfulness.

His teeth are chattering. He cannot stop shivering. He feels—lightheaded? His brain’s all fuzzy around the corners. His legs are starting to feel numb. This is fine. Everything’s fine!

Because he’s near his tenth human. Tenth, for a variety of reasons. Like his probable homicide record and his utter disregard for borrower safety and the butterflies Ren feels whenever he so much as looks at him—

The tenth probably isn’t even home. Even disregarding his schedule, he’s always flighty. Never likes to stick in one place. Ren understands entirely, but his tenth isn’t four inches tall and at risk of freezing. He’s just paranoid.

“It’s not paranoia if there are genuinely people out to get me,” Goro's voice echoes through his mind. This was said, as most things are between them, conversationally, while Goro was stalking him throughout his apartment. How was Ren supposed to know what a “bus pass” was, and that it was unusable after he cut and used it as a coffee table?

Whatever. His tenth human, Goro Akechi, was his last shot. Before he’s forced to make the 5-story trek to Ann's apartment. Which is doable. Totally, doable, even more so that he pisses Goro off just enough that he feels his body heat, rather than Goro killing Ren himself—

Ren stumbles, nearly eating shit on the cold, metal vent he’s traversing. He took the fastest route, expecting warm air to envelop him the second he entered. But apparently, Goro's ideal temperature is only a little colder than his heart, and there is nothing blowing through his vents on a snowy, winter night.

His vision’s starting to fuzz—that’s normal, right? God, he can’t remember the last time he ate. He’ll take Goro's patronizing bread crumbs, even. It’s winter. He’s been busy. Maybe he’s a little unprepared, running on an empty stomach and with hardly enough layers to trek through this vent. Every step seems to drain Ren’s heat even further, every breath sends icy air spreading throughout his body.

Everything’s fine, because look, Ren’s here. He shoots his grappling hook at the lip of the vent—and it only bangs into the flat metal wall. He retracts it, hits the old bundle of gears and twine for good measure, and refires. Within seconds, he’s dragging himself out of Goro's vent.

God—was his floor always this cold? It’s exponentially worse out here, the chill of the open air going straight to Ren’s heart. His legs feel stiff. The expanse of Goro's kitchen is so, so massive.

He blinks once, twice. Hey, it’s okay, he’s almost there. He can hear Goro's fake, cheery voice echoing from across the room, a high-pitched hum as he says, “Yes, of course, Saito-san. I already have a portable heater set up. I'm sure you’ll get the heating system up in just a few minutes, you always work magic, haha.”

Ren trudges forward. He can only crane his neck up for a few seconds, before the glare of Goro's lights forces his head down. He’d be surprised if he noticed him. He’s wearing his sneaky thieving clothes, a thin, pitch-black coat that clashes perfectly against the cream white of Goro's tiles. Total stealth.

Goro offers a few more pleasantries and a goodbye, before his footsteps shake the earth. Distantly, Ren can hear him preparing hot water. Distantly, Ren wonders if he should dunk himself into it. It sounds nice, cozy. He continues forward. He probably remembers how to scale Goro's counter, right? He wonders if he can get a ride, or if Goro would just kick him aside like a football.

There’s really nothing stopping him from climbing right up. The counter’s right here, Goro just a few feet away. So what, if he’s so cold that he’s stopped shivering? He shouldn’t be fumbling with his grappling hook, forgetting how to brace himself before he starts soaring. He’s so close.

His grappling hook catches the very edge of the counter.

He’s got this. In three, two, one—

Ren compresses the trigger.

The ground falls beneath him, winking out into a distant view. Normally he’d chose a stronger anchor, but—He’s fine. He nearly hits his head on the underside of Goro’s counter, but he’s fine.

He blinks, hanging off the edge of his hook with one arm. How does he normally get up, again? Why is his head so fuzzy? Why is his grip swaying more than usual?

His legs dangle. He needs to do something. Why is he just—

The grappling hook lurches, slips, almost falls completely off the counter. Ren lurches with it, legs kicking and arms flailing as he tries to find any purchase, any at all—

His hand meets the hard surface of the counter. Muscle memory kicks in, and he swings his legs up, using the last of his strength to climb up. He even manages to throw his grappling hook up instead of letting it shatter to a billion pieces on the floor. Nice.

He’s on solid ground, so why are his limbs still shaking? They’re stiff, sure, but weak. He can’t be weak. He has a strong, mighty bloodline. Impeccable survival instincts. Charm and grace and unmatched humility. But—just sitting here feels like a good idea. Something in him is slipping. Really, he doesn’t even know why he came all the way up here—

A massive shadow falls over him, enveloping him like a wave swallows a seashell. He can’t help a shiver, both from the dip in temperature, and for the familiar, hair-raising electricity that shoots down his spine.

In his peripheral, a hand larger than his bed clutches the counter. Before him, a titanic torso stretches like the sunrise. He cranes his neck up, up, up, ignoring the jabbing pain behind his eyes, to stare into the looming face of Goro Akechi.

Goro doesn’t smile, but something of his expression still reminds Ren of a shark, a snake, the cat who got the cream. His voice booms, “Is there a specific reason you’re tracking footprints on my counter? Or do you just favor trouncing into places a bug like you shouldn’t be in?”

Well, at least Goro's actually at his apartment, instead of working the graveyard shift at his mysterious second job he answers no questions about. He probably just works at Big Bang Burger and is embarrassed. Anyways, Ren stands up, almost loses his balance, and pointedly crosses his arms instead of expending the energy to flail them. At least he’s not shivering. “I came here for ba—a v—very specific reason.”

“Oh?” Goro leans closer, his hands coming up to block Ren’s escape point. His breath washes over Ren, and its warmth only makes the cold air even more jarring. He can almost feel Goro’s body heat, if slightly blocked by a sweater and those dorky gloves he always wears. He just needs him a little closer. “And what is that?”

Ren’s body feels so, so light—his vision isn’t supposed to be this fuzzy, right? His tongue can hardly move. He either needs to piss Goro off until his warm hand pins down Ren’s body, or he decides to drop him in his toasty pocket to contain him. Either sounds heavenly. Ren says, confident as stone, “The reason is—“

Ren passes out.

***

He awakes to perfect, blissful warmth.

Hot air envelops him, filling his lungs and curling his toes. A warm, solid weight rests across his entire body. Not as warm as the blissful heat buffeting him, but enough to keep it trapped, the weird, leathery fabric of his blanket be damned.

And, oh, this is what it’s all about. This is the heaven mice go to after they perish in a glue trap, the afterlife hamsters enter after being eaten by a human child. The Valhalla borrowers ascend to after dying by honorable means, like dropping dead on his favorite human’s counter. He should’ve frozen to death ages ago. Ren snuggles back into this new, weighted blanket, letting this heat seep into his still-cold bones. Absolutely perfect—

A thundering bang echoes somewhere behind him, followed by a familiar, murderous growl, “Dropping dead on my fucking counter, who does he think he is—“

Ren’s eyes snap open.

He lies on a massive, plush surface. Before him, looming too high for Ren to take in all of it, is what Ren assumes is a human heater. It’s directed at his tiny form, Ren resting on a couch cushion like a pearl in an oyster.

Ren’s not dead.

He knows this when a pair of dark pants fill half of vision, and Ren can’t resist craning his head up, up, up, to see Goro Akechi looming over him like God’s shittiest angel.

He’s carrying something. A small something. A small something that he sets down next to Ren, slower than he thought humans were capable of. It’s a tall bottle cap. A warm, savory-smelling liquid sloshing as Goro sets it down, fingernails glinting in the light—

”You leave traces of yourself, everywhere.” Goro'd said to Ren, once the borrower was in his clutches, dangled over Goro's head by a single leg. “Someone will always find you, whether or not you think they’re searching. Whether or not you think they’re capable of exploiting what they uncover.”

Goro's not wearing gloves.

Surely Ren’s seeing things. He always wears gloves. Whether he’s dangerously engrossed in his detective hero fantasy, is genuinely that paranoid, or a secret third thing, Ren doesn’t know. What he does know is that Goro's left hand is bared. And that the missing glove is—

Ren shifts, pushes his hands against the heavy fabric blanketing him. He sits up the best he can, seeing enough to know his legs disappear into a familiar, wide shape. To know that Goro's missing glove is wrapped around Ren like a giant quilt.

It kind of smells like him, faint, cheap coffee and the hand lotion Ren’s smelled on his arms. It’s nice. It’s warm. It’s safe—

Goro's hand is retreating, him too engrossed in his task to even notice Ren sitting up. So, Ren does what he does best: channel Morgana’s instincts long enough to lunge over, and knock the cap of soup right onto Goro's couch.

Goro's hand freezes. Ren can see it shake. He can’t stop his heart from pounding as he watches tendons wider than his fingers flex, the curl of knuckles larger than his knees. It’s boring, under his glove: well-trimmed, zero dirt, paler than most of his body. Ren wonders if it’s just as warm. He’ll probably find out; it looks five seconds away from wrapping around his body and squeezing.

Before Goro can actually kill him, Ren says, “Now, this is a sight I wouldn’t mind waking up to every m—“ He clears his throat. Tries again, “Hey, uh. What happened?”

Goro's eyebrow twitches. Calmly, carefully, he rights the fallen cap, collecting the broth with his fingers and shaking it off somewhere behind his legs. Calmly, carefully, he lowers himself to a kneel, bracketing his arms around Ren. His heart pounds. “You tell me—or are you doing to kneel over again before you can finish the sentence?”

Ren snorts. He moves to speak, but Goro beats him to it, glaring at the stain Ren left on his couch. “I got that for you, you know. Fluids and preserving body heat are important when dealing with hypothermia. I expected you’d be stupid enough to put yourself into that state, but I didn’t expect you’d be so stupid as to fight me on recovery, especially considering how severe your case is—“

The hair on the back of Ren’s neck prickles. “I'm fine, not severe at all. I just needed a quick nap—“

“Oh, really?” Goro shifts back, slamming his bare hand right next to Ren. He can’t quite suppress a flinch. “Your body weight is unusually low, which is impressive, considering you already weigh less than a fucking leaf. Your eyes are sunken in. I can feel your ribcage—and you’re freezing to the touch.” Ren flinches, again, and tries to speak, as if Goro's current volume isn’t hurting his ears. “When was the last time you ate? Drank? Slept? I haven’t been able to check if you have frostbite or a genuine cold—“

Ren’s instincts flare. He scrambles for a defense. He’s too small, too exposed, too warm. He manages, voice high and sharp, “And you give a shit?”

Surprisingly, it works. Goro backs off, bare hand still lingering near Ren’s form. He seems to reassess itself, before his expression closes off into something utterly blank. “I wasn’t aware you were capable of fending for yourself.”

And, see, the thing is, Ren’s perfectly capable of doing so. Ren cannot, right now, considering his head is pounding and his legs are cramping and his hook’s on Goro's counter. He hates this. He hates this. He hates this feeling of helplessness, of having to rely on another person to maintain his wellbeing. He hates being vulnerable.

But more importantly, he hates this distance with Goro. This touch-and-go game, how he thought he was handing Goro a blatant victory with this but instead he’s—What? Making soup for him and giving him blankets?

And he hates the slight hurt in Goro's eyes, a sight clear as day from Ren’s tiny angle. He hates how he can’t have Goro concretely, and he hates how Goro is leaning, moving, inching away—

“Wait!” Ren blurts. Without thinking, he latches onto Goro's thumb, digging his nails into his skin before he can slip away.

It works.

Goro's here, his warm, warm breath puffing down onto Ren. He’s watching him like a hawk, face carefully neutral.

“I'm—“ Ren licks his lips. “I'm sorry,” he says, because he should. Because he means it. Because it’s easier to say over I love you.

Goro won’t accept that. It’s still Ren’s turn. A few moments ago, he could’ve backtracked, laughed it off. Of course all he needed was a nap and a snack. Always a generous host, Akechi-san, if you don’t mind him, he’ll be leaving—

But it’s too late for that. Goro's watching his next move, and he doesn’t know what else to say. Does Goro genuinely care? Will he kill him if he answers wrong? This is so difficult, fuck. This is why the only emotion Ren prefers to feel around Goro is fear. He needs to say something.

He’s never had to do this before, and he’s going to lose a lot more than his life if he doesn’t. He wouldn’t care if it was just his own survival, but—Goro's different.

Ren makes a decision.

“I need your help,” Ren says, voice barely audible within the expanse of Goro's room. He continues, even smaller, “Don’t leave me?”

And that, final nail softens Goro's expression into something Ren would almost call warm.

“God, you’re an idiot,” Goro says, his usual snark returning to his voice. “If you’re so desperate, you can stay with me for the night. You don’t take up that much room, I suppose.”

Ren melts in relief. Before he can ask if this means a truce, Goro starts, “I do really...”

Ren blinks. Goro doesn’t finish. Like the fool he is, Ren asks, “Really what?”

Goro's mask slides back on. To Ren, it’s just a narrow of the eyes in thought. “I do wonder when the heat will come back on. At least you’re not freezing anymore. What’re your symptoms?”

And just like that, the night passes in a blur. To Goro's credit, he is far less overbearing than Ren feared. He notes his symptoms (just a headache, it really was mild) with a hum. Fills the silence with talk of work and gossip while Ren takes his water and soup. It’s a nice alternative to accepting that he’s here, sitting on a human’s coffee table, too weak to escape—all the while accepting freebies like they’re nothing.

At least Goro's here, radiating heat, snatching Ren up without a second thought. His stupid attractive face constantly filling Ren’s vision.

At least he hasn’t pushed away someone he can’t bear to lose.

Some time later, Ren’s settled on Goro's bedside table, glove a leathery sleeping bag. Goro's voice hums in the background, droning on about some co-worker and their petty drama, or whatever. Ren can’t stop listening to him. He also needs him to shut up. “Hey, detective.”

Goro hums. “What? Is the arrangement not to your liking?”

No. He loves being level with Goro's face. His hair frames his head like a halo. His big, stupid eyelashes flutter with every sleepy blink. He’s never been this close when his life wasn’t in mortal danger. His heart is pounding like he is.

The faint adrenaline gives Ren the courage to say, “I needed this—I needed you.” Ren smiles. “Thank you, Goro.”

And something beautiful happens.

From the tips of his ears to the corners of his jawline, Goro turns red. His mouth parts, ever-so-slightly. And his eyes...

He expects Goro to snap, to glare at him and hiss something like I told you not to call me that. He expects him to kill him on the spot. Ren understands this part of Goro: the mortifying ordeal of being named.

Instead, Goro reaches over, bare hand filling Ren’s vision. Massive fingers scoop up Goro’s glove and its passenger, lifting them up effortlessly. Ren can’t see anything aside from dark leather, can’t feel anything except the warmth of Goro’s hand. For a second, he doesn’t even care how vulnerable he is. He could stay like this, weightless in Goro’s gravity, until the end of time.

Eventually, Goro sets him down. Ren knows where he is even before he hears the steady beating of Goro’s heart. He unfurls, finding himself tucked into Goro’s chest pocket. His chest rises and falls, carrying him with it, burying him into warmth, fabric and utter bliss.

Goro mutters, voice reverberating through Ren’s core, “It’s easier to keep an eye on you, like this.” When Ren can’t help but smile up at him, Goro snorts. “Good night, Joker.”

And with that, Goro's bedroom plunges into darkness. Ren huddles into Goro's glove, hands reaching out to clutch the fabric of his pocket. He can’t help but smile brighter when he feels Goro’s hand curl around him, not overbearing, but close enough to feel his vulnerable skin.

“Call me Amamiya, at least,” He whispers into the night air. Even if the heat came on right now, Ren wouldn’t feel it, not for the warmth thrumming through his veins. “Or take me on a date first, Goro.”

He’ll tell Goro everything, soon, Ren decides, and drifts off to sleep.

[p-3-r-c-y]

heheheh g/t mermaid au but it’s persona 5 (i’m loosing it)

might post more doodles later

[dreamyautumns]

Fairytale ShuAke AU time😎

Ren climbs out from beneath the gigantic door of the stone palace and gets onto his feet. He looks at his surroundings and rubs the back of his head.

“Wherever that beanstalk to me to… it probably isn’t good to stay here. This place is huge, but it might be abandoned…”

Ren advances onward into the giant castle, admiring the furniture and the windows, which were covered in stained glass. The castle was in very good shape. He began wondering if the place was truly abandoned, or if something more sinister lurked within.

“Hmm?”

Ren’s attention turns to a room that’s labeled, “Treasure Storage”. Treasure? That could help his and Sojiro’s farm recover! Surely he could take some if no one was here to claim it, right? His curiosity gets the better of him as he walks up to the door.

“This is perfect… I should take a few, just to play it safe and-“

“Who dares enter MY castle without being invited?!”

An unknown voice suddenly rattles the walls and shakes the ground. Ren turns to look across the hall as a gigantic shadow steps down the stairs. He turns to find a place to hide as the figure draws nearer. He finds a potted plant in the corner of the hall. Maybe, if he can sprint there in time, he’ll be able to make it-

“STOP RIGHT THERE!”

Ren’s blood runs cold. He turns around as heavy, thundering footsteps come up from behind. He looks up, up, up, a dark shadow looming over him as the figure stares him down with crimson daggers.

*This castle was never abandoned… the owner of it is a giant…!*

~

“Well, well… I thought I heard a little mouse skittering around. It turns out there’s a *thief* sneaking about *my* castle,” the giant states maliciously. Ren tries to slip into a crack in the wall, but he has no time before gigantic, rough digits squeeze him between them and lift him off the ground. He’s dangling before the face of the giant, as he examines the human with a disgusted look.

“Humans… arguably my *least* favorite species to run into. Why are you here?” The giant demands.

Ren grabs onto the giant’s index finger and looks him in the eyes. He’s heard stories about them… about who they are and who they’ll *eat*. He was not looking forward to having his bones ground up into powder and used as an ingredient in bread.

*Choose your words carefully. Maybe you can win him over…*

“H-hey, there…! Didn’t quite see you… living here?” Ren asks, a coy little smile over his face.

“That’s a stupid question. YES, I live here, and YOU broke in. I could crush you right here and now, you pathetic little *bug*.” The giant spat out the word “bug” as though it was a disgusting slice of fruit.

“Before you crush me, why don’t we get to know one another? Won’t you agree?” Ren questions further.

“You’re pushing your luck, *human*,” the brunette giant grumbles. “What do you want…”

“Nothing… just to, y’know, get to know you?”

Ren could tell his “charm” wasn’t necessarily working. The giant seemed even more annoyed.

“Fine. You want to know about me? My name is Goro Akechi. I absolutely *despise* humans…”

Ren gulps a bit, but he pushes forward. Akechi doesn’t seem like such a bad guy, to him. Maybe the giant’s just misunderstood.

“I’m Ren Amamiya. I live on a farm with my dad and my sister.”

Akechi suddenly lets out a laugh, deep and booming like thunder. “A farm boy?! That’s quite pathetic, if you ask me. Alright then, farm boy; humor me. What are you doing in here?”

Ren thinks for a moment. “I was hoping I could, y’know… borrow some things? Maybe a few gold pieces?”

“You’re a little thief… I had nearly forgotten.” Akechi rumbles. “How about we play a little… game?”

“Huh? Where did that come from?”

“I have a proposal for you; keep me entertained for the day. I do enjoy watching you flail about in my grasp. Perhaps you have other tiny tricks up your sleeves. If you do, I’ll let you walk away with as much gold as your pathetic little farmer hands can carry.”

“And if I… don’t?”

Akechi gives him a sinister smile. “Then I’ll get bored of you and crush you like the insignificant gnat you are! Do we have a deal~?”

Ren nervously looks away. *I have to do this… for Sojiro, and for Futaba too. They’re counting on me…!*

Ren boldly looks into the giant’s fiery red gaze and nods in agreement.

“We have a deal.”

[gtcopter]

I hate shitty imgflip quality I hate shitty imgflip quality I hate shitty imgflip quality I ha

[jellyfish-grave]

Everyone, happy Goro day <333333

(closeups under cut)

[hilacopter]

You guys seemed to enjoy the last batch of shitposts so here are some more, fresh from the oven

Sorry for the low quality on some of these, imgflip is trash

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 8

Death by Glamour from Undertale

vs.

Rivers in the Desert from Persona 5

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

Death by Glamour:

It's funky jam and I love making silly little scenes to it :]

Rivers in the Desert:

This isn't a boss theme. This is YOUR theme. This song plays at a point in the game where your team has lost everything and are ready to take it back. You aren't scared of Shido, Shido's scared of YOU. You hold the power now. You stole the song from the boss. It isn't their fight anymore, it's yours.

[headfullofgalaxies]

Art style study featuring the Persona art style! Specifically, the art style of the character art and covers, which have a more watercolor-esque style, rather than the black cell shading from some of the other art in the game.

I think I got the base sketch and lineart mostly right, but I had no clue what I was doing with the shading and rendering. I think what I ended up with was a close approximation, but it's not fully accurate.

If you want to see the full process, the speedpaint is under the cut.

[might-be-tiny-gt]

BORROWERRYUJIBORROWERRYUJIBORROWERRYUJI!!

Recently found this AWESOMEFIC: Even Small Acts of Rebellion... and fell in love. I didn’t know how much I needed pocket sized Ryuji until now. There are still more scenes I want to draw out but thought I should post what I have so far.

[shrink-or-grow]

Futaba Sakura from Persona 5, mayhaps? 👉👈

I think this might be our first instance of multiple people requesting the same character! That's pretty neat. I like when a character is popular enough for that kind of thing.

[averagegtenjoyer]

Erm pov. Trying to spy on the cute detective by shrinking on his desk was unfortunately not the move (hes nuts)

[andtheyreonfire]

at the end of every tether

Ao3

WC: 3070

AN: hbd @sizediscount !!!! i got you a serial killer <3 for G/t July, Day 19: Out of reach.

~

Ren’s never actually seen what cognitive rulers do when he’s not fighting them.

He’d assume they’d despawn, like a boss they haven’t hit the cutscene trigger for yet. But Futaba points out their constant presence during every infiltration. They seem more like puppets, than anything. A mouthpiece regurgitating their owner’s fucked-up ideals. A chipped piece of grey matter that wandered around, aimlessly, until it decided to kick the Thieves’ ass.

It was a consideration, that they would just sit on their fancy little throne like the ruler they were, seemingly alone in their corrupted little corner of heart. Ren didn’t think he’d be right.

Ren also didn’t think he’d confirm this by being locked in a massive, golden birdcage, eye-level with the absolutely oversized ruler of Akechi Goro’s palace.

Akechi’s palace seemed a maze of sharp corners and dead ends. Ren’s third eye was only good for uncovering the non-lethal, annoying traps, and Futaba’s Persona was only good for leading them around in a circle. It was a long, tense few hours until they found their way into something that seemed like a next room—

Before it was revealed that their hours of struggle took place in a literal rat maze, located near in the middle of an absolutely titanic castle. And, while the majority of Shadows were normal-sized and scurrying around like rats, there was one, massive problem they could hear stomping in the background.

Ren didn’t realize Akechi’s cognition was stalking them until it was too late. Until his current party was downed, him included. Until genuine fear was singing through his veins, watching the cognition shrug off his remaining teammates like mosquitoes. Until his mouth was already forming the words, wait, please, don’t hurt them, take me instead—

“I’m not one for consolation prizes,” Akechi’s cognition had boomed, Ren craning his neck up, up, up, just to see past his crouched knees. Before he could even flinch, a massive, gloved hand filled his vision, Akechi’s warped face regarding him with a possession he’s never seen on him in his life. “Though, who am I to deny ownership of a new toy?”

Really, Ren should’ve known something was up the second they confirmed Akechi’s third keyword as beanstalk.

And now, Ren sits, cross-legged and cross-armed in a birdcage larger than his room. He is, by all accounts, the human thief from Jack’s fairy tale, and Akechi’s brain is going to grind his bones to make his bread. Perfect. Just perfect.

At least his teammates are safe, with plans and plans to rescue Ren and reunite. And, considering the way Ren screamed after the cognition had tossed him up into the air like a pebble, probably planning a cognitive shutdown upon their return.

It’s not like they hadn’t discussed it, between questions of why, why, why. Why here? Why now? Why Akechi? Why was Ren so quiet as they discussed the very valid option of letting his mind decay—

A massive, cold shadow blocks out the light. Without seeing its owner, Ren scrambles back, his spine hitting the gold bars of the cage. A part of him doesn’t want to look, doesn’t want to see the face of the boy he played billiards with looming above him like a skyscraper. So, Ren doesn’t. It’s a perfect, fool-proof strategy—

Up until the cognition’s voice crackles through the air like distant thunder, ���Hm. Bored, now.”

Ren’s eyes snap up, just in time to see a massive, stupidly fast hand reach in the cage. Ren doesn’t even have time to get his feet under him before it wraps around his body, and yanks him out like a child’s doll.

Ren isn’t thinking about the fact that there’s nothing between him in the floor except the cognition’s hand, it squeezing his arms to his side and curling a pinkie under his legs. Ren isn’t thinking about his face looming above him, nor that the eyes locked onto his body are larger than his head. He certainly isn’t thinking about all the things the giant could do to him, nor the realization that, after everything, this might be the first time Ren would need a revival bead—

The cognition flops back against his throne, kicking his feet up against a building-sized ottoman. As if remembering the thief in his grip, he brings Ren to his face. Ren stalwartly refuses to look at him, squeezing his eyes shut, even as this Akechi chuckles and brushes a thumb against his head. There have been many palaces Ren disliked but this one he thinks he truly hates—

“I know I’m a lot to take in,” The cognition purrs—that’s not right, some part of Ren’s brain manages, only stopping himself from panicking by a thread. “But you don’t have to hide. It’s not like you haven’t seen more than my face.”

The soft pad of a glove prods against Ren’s face. He sputters, squirms, but eventually the cognition pins his head between his thumb and the side of his finger. Ren can only shudder as it pushes his mask right off his face.

Ren’s pulse spikes. He creaks his eyes open, only to squeeze them shut as the cognition’s finger fills his vision. It hovers too close for his eyes to focus, a padded glove brushing against his forehead and—brushing the hair out of his eyes?

Because he’s always been an idiot when it came to Akechi, Ren opens his eyes.

The cognition stares back. “There we are.” He smiles, and the stretch of his face is one too many things to focus on, because— “There’s that pretty face of yours.”

Ren’s cheeks burn, heart hammering in his chest. Instead of addressing anything, he takes in the—expanse of the cognition’s body. He appears to be nothing more than an oversized facsimile of Loki. He wears a striped, band-like jacket. The patterns fade and curve in a way Ren can’t follow, not against the length of his massive arm. Minus the searing bright gold of his eyes, the cognition looks human—aside, of course, from the red horns jutting from his forehead like streetlamps, his absurd height, and—are those fangs—?

Akechi’s cognition is grinning down at Ren with fangs longer than his hand. Ren is utterly trapped, probably barely bigger than the thumb of the giant holding him. Ren is trying not to process the last sentence the cognition breathed into this world. After everything, he barely catches his low murmur, “I thought you’d be more entertaining than the shadows scurrying around here. I wonder, would you scream as well as them?”

Every ounce of blood drains out of Ren’s body. The cognition’s eyes crinkle in delight. Latching onto the conversation topic—and knowing that he probably would, and every bit of Akechi’s psyche would love it—Ren says, “Do the shadows here not worship you?”

The cognition hums, the sound reverberating through Ren’s chest like a bass. “Oh, they should—but, no. I’m the only thing that deserves power, around here. They’re nothing more than distractions.”

Ren fights the urge to shudder, remembering peeking into a room with the cognition in it, watching him idly dispose of a group that would overwhelm the thieves with just a few, white-hot blasts of energy.

He’s distracted enough he almost doesn’t register the words vibrating through his core. “Goro-kun’s cognition only allows for one person in power, I’m afraid.”

Ren blinks. His mouth feels, suddenly, dry. He tries to read the cognition’s face, even just the few feet in front of him, but all he can read is the same, vague satisfaction. “You know?”

“Everything, yes,” The cognition says, and he says it so assuredly Ren feels the urge to believe him.

“That you’re not real?”

The cognition seems to start, at that. He pulls Ren closer, higher, holding him above his towering face. And, without even a twitch as warning, he lets go.

Ren falls, wind whipping through his coat and his hair and, suddenly, the surface of not-Akechi’s lap seems more like it’ll break his legs than anything. And, suddenly, Ren’s voice is escaping him in an involuntarily scream, Akechi’s body shooting past him and the ground rushing closer and—

Idly, lazily, the cognition’s other hand catches him. Ren lands with an oof in the massive palm, less than a couple meters away from a bone-breaking fall. Instinctively, to assess the threat before him, Ren looks up.

He has to crane his neck back to see the cognition’s face, the way his fangs gleam in the light of his throne room as he asks, “Does this seem fake to you?”

Ren can barely form words, more focused on taking shallow, even breaths. Thankfully, the cognition beats him to the chase. “Goro-kun’s known the rules of the Metaverse since he was fifteen. If he hadn’t already awakened, I’m what would be his Persona. Since he’s awakened several, was a Cognitive Pscience guinea pig, this that and the third, I’ve known I’m a cognition since the moment these palace walls formed.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Ren croaks.

The cognition shrugs, bringing Ren up a closer to the billboard of his face. “We have a compulsion to tell the truth. Besides, you’ve always been a great listener.” He smiles, a little less sharp. “I’m sure you have more questions. Ask away.”

Ren figures he doesn’t have much to lose, so he tries, “Can you let me go?”

The shadow laughs, a sharp, painful bark that leaves Ren clutching his ears. He says, in the same tone Akechi would use when Ren would risk everything to do a ridiculous trick shot, “Be serious. You’re trying to steal my heart, are you not?”

Wary of the shadow’s fingers hovering around him, Ren tries, “Does Akechi not want us to change his heart?”

“Every ruler wants someone to change their heart.” The cognition rests his head on his hand, eyes flicking up to the ceiling. “It’s why there’s always a route to the treasure—or a route to a bullet in their head. Subconsciously, humans will always desire help. Goro-kun will scream and cry and bite once you send him that calling card, but, in the end, he’ll be a changed man and everything will work out fine.”

He draws out the final syllable. His fingers twitch towards Ren, and Ren hasn’t missed a warning since Kamoshida’s castle. “Do you have anything more interesting to ask?”

Ren swallows. Well, he has time, and if the cognition’s being honest... “Are you going to hurt me?”

The cognition peers down at him, the glow of his eyes nearly blinding, “Hasn’t Goro-kun already done enough?”

Ren remembers February, December, November. Ren can also see what’s looming within arm’s reach, “Then why am I in the palm of your hand?”

“Why change the heart of every person you come across? Why surround yourself with friends willing to die for you? Why use my life as a bargaining chip during that February?” The cognition pokes him in the side. Ren flinches. “Do you know how easy it would be to take advantage of your size? Goro-kun’s never truly had power over you, but I do. And what can you do about it?”

“Stop you,” Ren breathes, like a mantra, “We’re going to fix this, we’re going to save you—“

“You’re so cute,” The cognition says, like he’s baby-talking a kitten. “I could hurt you, if I want to state the obvious. But, I think it’d only break Goro-kun’s distorted heart if I killed the boy he loves.”

The air in Ren’s lungs goes cold. A beat passes. Two. Eventually, he manages to stutter out, “I’m sorry?”

The cognition searches his face, eyes gleaming like a spotlight, before fanged lips curl into a smile. “Aw, you didn’t know? It really didn’t take a detective. You were his only companion, why wouldn’t he develop a puppy crush?” Ren can’t quite convince himself he’s lying, can’t quite pull air into his lungs before he rumbles, “You weren’t there for the dozens of unsent date invites, the Wikipedia pages he read just to impress you, and, oh, the way he threw up that curry you made for him when he killed you—“

“Stop it—“ Ren tries, tries, tries. “Let me go—“

“He needed you, and he couldn’t stand it.” The cognition lifted him up, running a finger down his side, his touch gentle. “He had to push you away, you see? Push himself into nothingness, find the magic beans that would help him repent, but also forget you.” Ren squirms, grunts, but massive fingers press against him back, hold him still as the cognition pets him. “He failed, if it wasn’t obvious. He thought of you every night, until his heart became corrupted, and his desires swelled his perception of himself into me. Don’t flatter yourself, truly, it wasn’t only because of you—with everything that’s happened to him, it’s a miracle it didn’t distort sooner.”

“You’re—“ Hurting him, except he wasn’t. The cognition was just petting him and talking to him and Ren wanted to crawl out of his skin. “Stop—“

“And now, I’m here.” Goro hums, finally flipping Ren onto his back, pinning him down with his index finger. Ren struggles against the weight, and only feels the cognition’s breath wash over him in a silent laugh. “I’m here to do what he was too helpless, to small to do. He never wanted to let you go? Then I won’t. He wanted to lock you in a cage, away from anyone else but him? Then I will. He wanted your entire world to narrow to his hands, to pull your life on a string guided by his fingers?” The cognition leans in. Smirks, wide. “Who am I to deny him the privilege?”

Here, an arm’s reach away from his massive face, Ren can tell the cognition is telling the truth. His organs feel too large for his body. He fights the urge to shield himself, to claw out his heart, to plead and beg and ask why didn’t he just tell me—?

It’s not like he wasn’t fond of Akechi, but even if he could make his lips form the word love, he’s sure neither of them would want their relationship to progress like this.

Though, what is this cognition, but twisted desires made real?

“Don’t worry about anything else, okay?” The cognition continues, after Ren’s almost caught his breath. “I’ll take care of everything. If your thieves are smart enough, they won’t come back to us. If not—what’s a few more pests to squash?”

The cognition peers down at him, lips turning up as Ren writhes under his finger. It’s impossibly heavy, crushing the air out of his lungs, the weight of the cognition's words flutter around Ren’s head. His blood-red gloves look so small against the cognition’s digit, and for all of Ren’s Metaverse strength, he doesn’t budge an inch. He probably won’t even be able to save his friends.

“You’re so cute when you squirm,” The cognition says, with a tone like dark chocolate. “Maybe I will keep you around. I have all the treasure I need, right here—“

“I’m sorry,” is the only thing Ren can think to say.

The cognition blinks at him, like a cat watching their prey. Ren licks his lips, wills himself to breathe under the weight of his finger. “I’m sorry we let it get this bad. I’m sorry I didn’t know you were alive until a week ago, that I didn’t do anything to help you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you lo—your feelings until it was too late.”

The finger’s weight lessens, a little. Ren continues, peering up, trying to see if he can pierce through those golden eyes. “I’m going to fix this, Goro. We’re going to save you, I promise.”

The cognition stares at him. Ren recognizes the poker face as the one he’s leveraged to Goro countless times. Gradually, he lifts his finger off Ren’s chest. Ren doesn’t move, lying on his side, waiting for the cognition’s next play.

With the force of a runaway train, the cognition’s fingers snap to Ren’s collar. The surface of the massive palm vanishes. Ren’s legs flail, his hands trying, in vain, to stop his coat from choking him. The cognition pulls him up, until all he can see is his eyes, staring him down like speeding headlights.

“Don’t pretend like this isn’t a game to you and your group of Phantom Thieves, like I haven’t ruined every—“ The cognition cuts himself off, barks out a laugh. “You don’t care about him, you never did. That’s why I’m here, to give him what he’s too cowardly to take.”

“That’s why I’m, here, too,” Ren grunts. He debates kicking out, clipping the edge of the cognition’s nose with his boot, but considering how far off the ground he is—and how close he is to the cognition’s mouth—he thinks better of it. “You think I wouldn’t come all this way if I didn’t care—?”

The cognition stands up in one, fluid movement. Ren can’t help the scream he gives, nor the way his hands claw for purchase against massive fingers. Genuine sweat beads on his forehead. The ground’s so far away—

“I wonder, how your thieves would react to seeing you reduced to a stain?” The cognition stomps forward, fingers steel around Ren’s scruff, even as he kicks and sways. “You seem to forget your place, little thing—“

Static electricity sings through Ren’s veins, adrenaline keeping him struggling, even as the cognition dangles him over a skyscraper-sized drop. “Goro—“

The slam of the cognition opening the cage is the only thing Ren can register, before he sends him flying through the air. His side hits the gilded floor, sliding across it like an abandoned toy.

“Fe, fi, fo, fum. I smell the blood of a lying thief.” Ren cranes his neck up just in time to see the cognition slam the door closed. He glares down at him, his shadow blocking out the light, and Ren’s never quite felt so small. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

With that, the cognition stomps away. He settles down into that massive throne, ignoring Ren like he truly is just some pet in a cage. Ren’s hands swelter. This sucks. This sucks, and yet…

All he can do is sit back, wait for his thieves, and hope that, after they change Goro’s heart, making things right isn’t too out of reach..

[p-3-r-c-y]

more mermaid au art :P

don’t have much context for this—maybe akira tried approaching ryuji while there were a bunch of people on the beach, and now ryuji is lecturing him about staying safe. a bit ooc but i spent way too long on this lol

also infodump on this au hopefully later this week!! i have had so many ideas cooking in my brain and im very excited to share them.

[dreamyautumns]

Mini fanfic I wrote for my friend @hilacopter it's a bit old but that's ok!!

~~~

Ren was sitting at his desk in his room crafting infiltration tools. He sets his screwdriver and and turns to the side.

“Oh, Futaba? You’re sitting on one of my screws.”

The tiny girl turns around for a moment, looking him in the eyes. She hesitates for a second, then hops off. Ren picks it up and begins finishing his work.

“Done,” he sighed. Some new lockpicks for his team were now laid out on the table before him. He turns to Futaba and smiles at her. “Thanks, Futaba- Futaba?”

Futaba turns around and looks up at the human boy. Her eyes avert his gaze as she twiddles her fingers together.

“What’s up, Futaba? You seem like you want to ask me something,” Ren asks.

The tiny girl continues to look away but speaks. “This is real embarrassing for me… but can you like… grab me?”

“What?” Ren asks in confusion.

“N-not that! I wanna just, y’know… be held. I wanna feel tall, ok? I’m sick of being all the way down here. I wanna be, like, taller than you. You gotta make it happen.”

“You want me to make you feel tall? You should’ve just asked.” Ren reaches a hand down for Futaba, who’s startled yelp is muffled. He gently lifts her up to his head and sets her down on his hair. The tiny girl is surprised.

“Feel better?”

Futaba stammers out of embarrassment and surprise. “T-That worked?! Whoa… I feel really high up. Y’know what? HELL YEAH! I’m TALL! Taller than you!” She throws her arms up in triumph. Ren can’t help but laugh at his “sister”.

“Be careful now. Let’s head downstairs and give out these tools to the others.”

~

In the café where the others were chatting, Ren comes down the stairs and hands them their tools. While passing a lockpick to Yusuke, the taller boy tilts his head in confusion at the sight of the tiny on the human boy’s head.

“Why is Futaba on your head?” The blue haired boy asks.

“She likes to feel tall,” Ren answers, smiling. Futaba rubs her hands together mischievously and giggles.

“Fear me, tiny humans! For my plan for world domination has BEGUN!!”

Makoto, Ann, and Haru smile at each other and laugh. Ren can’t help but chuckle as well as Futaba spreads her arms and cackles at her theatrics.

[gtcopter]

Hello fellers! I made a quiz for the p5 g/t discord server and thought I should also share it here since I haven't posted anything on this blog in a while

Lemme know who you got in the rbs or comments! I'm curious lol