A stroke of red, the color of danger, war, passion and blood. It was her color, he has no doubt about it, and it was such a delight to see, when his visions are surpassed by reality. She made red, such a glaring color, a thing of beauty. She is beauty. The red is stark against her pale skin, hiding bruises, and scars, and they bring to light her quicksilver eyes, the light in them, the mischief, the poisonous charm that will intoxicate you in the best way possible.
Oh, if she wasn't born in such a tasteless society, the very Gods themselves would cast themselves to the mortal realm and attempt to woo her. Narcissus would've forgotten himself, Adonis would be in a frenzy. Aphrodite herself would've taken her own divine life in jealousy.
Another stroke of red, and this one is ugly. Not in its visuals, but rather in what it means, what it represents. Hatred, a metaphorical brand burned into her skin by the corrupted society, a thing that stains her, attempts to ruin her. It was the mark of injustice, right on her body, and it was so painful to see her a victim, when in his eyes she is his savior. No. His Messiah. Nothing should mar such a beautiful person, no. He loathes, at the injustice of it all.
Ink-black paint is poured down an angelic face, and he gave her eyes of fire and a grin both compelling and terrifying. A chaotic mass of black feathers is painted on her back, reaching all the way down to the back of her legs. Her limbs are red, tipped in black and over her chest is white, the last vestiges of her innocence, her purity, the kindness that she's still all too willing to give, especially to them she has touched with her own two hands.
"My beauty, my darling muse," Yusuke can't help but kneel before his Messiah, who looks down at him in surprise. "Oh, you are wonderful."
If there was no paint, Yusuke would relish the sight of the blush on her skin, her eyes averted in the face of his shameless adoration, but still, he could feel her joy, her content, and her affections, innocent and true. It makes him shake, his eyes water, as he couldn't believe it. He's given the greatest gift of all, in all her glory. He could never match up to her, no, but it is he who she loves. Who she chose.
"Do… Do I look good?" Akira, with Arsene painted onto her, a melding of her physical and Metaverse self, twirls for him, and Yusuke thinks he could weep. "I have faith in you but um… I'm still kinda nervous. I've never done this before."
Yusuke rises to his feet, head bowed so he would not tower over her, and he carefully takes her clawed hands, pressing adoring kisses onto her knuckles. He looks at her, not holding his adoration back, and he is rewarded by an equally smitten look. "My mother's Magnum Opus is Sayuri. While you, my muse," Yusuke presses his forehead to the back of her hands, before looking back at her. "You are mine."
If it wasn't obvious, it's Fem!Akira~ I may not have played P5, but fuck damn ShuKita man. ShuKita.
Of course I'd be biased over my art son haha what else would you expect?
(I died doing oh my god)