#This got longer a bit longer than intended 👀

[elitadream]

I think a gift that Luigi would give Mario for his birthday would be a wood carving kit like one of the professional ones with all the fancy tools for carving, sanding and sculpting, along with a few blocks of wood. He saved up all his money specifically for that and nothing else. And Mario can’t constrain his overwhelming joy over receiving such a thoughtful gift.

He cherishes it, truly, handles it with care and love just as he does Luigi.

AHH I love this idea so much!! 😍🛠✨️

I can especially see this ocurring as a flashback from when they were both still on Earth. Luigi buying this for Mario despite how rough times were back then, because he knows the hobby brings him a lot of joy. 🥺

"Fratellino...! You shouldn't have," Mario would gasp as he would unwrap his present, gazing down at the beautiful kit with a mix of wonder and dismay.

"Oh, hush!" Luigi would dimiss affectionately, patting the box and inviting Mario to open it. "We both know you've wanted one for ages. When was the last time you've treated yourself? You never indulge in any personal expenses!"

"Because I can't afford it," Mario would murmur with a furtive glance to their dingy appartment, giving Luigi a pointed look when the lightbulb above them would suddenly start to flicker.

Undeterred, Luigi would merely shrug and sit beside him, his eyes soft and compassionate.

"Please, take it," he would insist, with a knowing smile. "Please. I know how hard you try. I see it everyday. Saying that you deserve it would be an understatement. It was the least I could do."

Mario would grimace slightly at his brother's words, feeling a simultaneous pang of guilt and love in his chest.

"Thank you," he would finally say in quiet surrender, turning to give Luigi a fierce hug.

Much later, when they would both celebrate their first anniversary in the Mushroom Kingdom, Luigi would be elated to learn that the princess has given Mario full reign of the north wing's workshop, essentially letting him have it all to himself. While on his way to greet him there, he would huff with a lopsided grin upon thinking of how vast of an improvement this is over the meagre selection of tools he had offered him back then, but to his surprise, he would find Mario working at the nearest desk... with his kit laid out beside him. He would remember that this was one of the few objects that Mario had been very adamant about retrieving from Earth before the portal vanished, but he had believed it to be merely as a souvenir and would be confused as to why Mario would even bother still using it now.

"Seriously?" He would quip bemusedly as he would enter the room, causing Mario to break from his current train of thought with a start. "I can't believe you sometimes."

"What?" Mario would retort, a helpless smile tugging at his lips.

"Mario, half of these are worn down to a nub, and the other half is completely obsolete. Why keep a rusty old bike when you can have a Ferrari, eh?"

Luigi would nudge him with a smirk, pleased with his own comparison, but Mario wouldn't seem to find much humor in it. Instead, he would stare at the blueprint lying on the desk's surface and would shake his head slowly, his expression one of deep nostalgia and gratitude.

"The old bike has infinitely more value to me than any Ferrari, Lamborghini or Maserati ever could have," he would answer simply, his tone filled with warmth and appreciativeness.

Luigi would sigh dramatically at that, however beaming at the compliment.

"Okay, okay, I get it," he would concede with a playful roll of his eyes. "Just- promise me to use these shiny new toys every once in a while, alright? It's not everyday one of your craziest dreams come true! Might as well make the most of it."

He would ruffle Mario's hair and give him a wink before leaving him to his project, but would secretly feel very touched and a little emotional that Mario views his gift with such importance. ☺️💞

[moonlight-prose]

smut prompt #8 for logan 👀💗

forty five minutes in the closet

a/n: not me literally writing this in right where you left me ch4. hilarious and iconic timing, because i was fighting the urge to just have them fuck full on in that closet. so here's my chance to do just that. for funsies i'm shoving it into that universe. do not look at me for using that gif. i literally can't deny myself the sight.

summary: an alternative scene to what really happened in that closet.

OR wade wilson forces logan to play seven minutes in heaven. (it was longer than seven minutes if we're being honest.)

word count: 2.6k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, exhibitionism, dirty talk, logan is filthy af and we love that, spit, fingering sort of, p in v sex, quickie, rough sex, biting, he's down bad for his honey what can i say, panty gag, a formal apology for how fucking horny and unhinged this is.

The closet felt smaller than intended—even as your back was pressed to the wall hard enough to feel the cracks in the drywall that stretched to the ceiling. Laughter filtered through the thin wooden door as Wade told yet another joke about shit you couldn't discern. Even if you asked him to explain, you'd still be confused come morning.

Logan leaned heavily against his side of the closet. Approximately two feet of space between you. The tips of your shoes touched his boots. The faint scent of cigar smoke still lingered from where he ripped it out and tossed it in an ashtray. You wouldn't have cared if he smoked in here. You might have asked for a puff.

He insisted on keeping the air clean in case you had to breathe.

Wade claimed you were playing seven minutes in heaven. Seven minutes of alone time with the man who made your head spin. In a proximity close enough to feel the heat of his body from where you stood. Although you'd been standing there for four minutes (you were keeping count via the watch on Logan's wrist) and the group seemed to have forgotten about the both of you entirely.

"Do you—um—know what usually happens here?"

A smile curved on his lips—eyes scrutinizing you with a look that told you he was teasing you. "Yeah. I do. I'm old, not stupid."

"I just wanted to make sure..." In a swift move you barely saw, he rose to his full height and crossed the invisible line holding the two of you on opposing sides. "Oh–"

"Honey." His voice was low, yet you felt as if he was screaming in your ear.

"Yes?" you breathed—eyes fixed on the way his chest took up your space. His flannel was stretched across it and for a moment you wondered if you started salivating at the sight.

"Are you nervous?"

Another raucous round of laughs broke through the darkness that surrounded you. But you could barely hear them over the echo of your own heart. It hammered loudly against your chest—quickening the closer he got. The more his large frame began to engulf you in a warmth you only dreamed of. You clamored to come up with a response, to flippantly push off his advance with a tease of your own.

His hands pressing on either side of your head to the wall behind you killed every ounce of bravery you had left. All your worries and thoughts about what lay on the other side of that door were extinguished. Logan leaned down, his nose brushed yours, and inhaled deep enough to steal the breath from your lungs.

"I can smell you," he rumbled. "Sweet like honey."

A searing heat built beneath your skin, burning from your cheeks down to the tips of your toes. Your mouth opened—words still fighting to be formed—but he didn't need an answer. Not when he could smell the arousal that pooled between your thighs. How you subtly shifted to find a bit of friction in the hopes of something more.

"You mind if I kiss you bub?"

A piece of you fractured in the darkness of that closet—settling comfortably in his own chest. You might ask for it back after all of this, but Logan felt his chances of you walking out as his were growing the longer this went on.

Glancing up—eyes wide and darkened with lust—you bit back the whine that crawled up the back of your throat. "They'll hear us."

He shrugged, shifting close enough for you to almost taste the whiskey off his lips. "Good."

"Logan–"

Lips pressed to your cheek, drawing a soft sigh from your parted mouth. "Somethin' tells me they're just waiting for it." His hand left the wall to trail along your waist, dipping slowly with a kiss to the corner of your lips. "And somethin' also tells me...you like that idea."

It's not as if you were entirely opposed to the idea. Actually most nights (if not every night) was spent with you imagining what it would be like to feel him this way. To be stretched with his cock so much you would feel a delicious burn.

You craved it.

He knew solely from the wanton look on your face. The way your eyes fluttered the further his hand went.

"You gonna let me in or what honey?" he cooed, fingers dipping beneath your skirt to seek out the slick that soaked the lace of your underwear.

Surely the seven minutes had run out, leaving the both of you to make a choice. Stay here and keep going for everyone to catch you. Or walk out, find a room, and continue this in private.

The thought of waiting a second longer snapped at your heels with an air of impatience you let consume you. What the fuck did it matter if they heard you getting fucked against the wall? What did it matter if you'd never live this down as long as you lived?

How could you actually think about shame when Logan's fingers were pressed against your dripping cunt, seeking out your clit through the thin fabric that divided you.

Sagging against the wall with a soft moan, you gripped his flannel in your fist and yanked his lips to yours. He groaned, falling into your body and effectively pinning you to the wall, as his tongue met yours. And suddenly you realized...you liked how whiskey tasted off of his tongue.

He devoured you with the kiss, swallowing each moan and stunted whine as his fingers made quick work of finding your clit. Rubbing quick circles, he plunged his tongue into your mouth - licking at your teeth with a fervor that seeped down into your stomach. It was messy. His spit mixed with yours, staining the skin of your cheek. Your slick coated the inside of your thighs as he pushed the fabric into you roughly.

Yet none of it felt enough to ease the ache that spread rapidly down to the tips of your fingers. Your heart twisted as he gripped the back of your neck—leading you in a kiss that divulged down to nothing but teeth and spit.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, your leg hooking around his hip, in the hopes of dragging him closer. To feel the hard bulge against the rough denim of his jeans.

"Look at you," he mumbled against your cheek. "All pretty and leakin' for me."

A sharp burst of need pulled tight at your stomach—the breath torn from your lungs. "Inside–"

He smiled. "C'mon honey. Use that smart head of yours. Gimme some words."

His words were a brutal tease that scraped against your skin. Yet that coupled with his fingers that seemed to hold an edge of desperation, left you gasping for air. Fingers dug into his shirt, lips found his in the hollow darkness, and you begged for mercy. This was your penance. The altar he intended to bend you across.

Oh how you longed for him to follow through.

"Fuck me," you managed to get out between sharp intakes of breath and heady kisses. "Please Logan. It hurts.

The sound that emanated from deep in his chest could only be described as feral. You'd never heard him like that before. Bordering on the line of unhinged and sanity. A flare of want pulled at your body, echoing loudly in your chest.

You wanted to hear it again. To feel him break beneath your palms as he rutted into you with need. You ached to watch him whittle himself down to the barest of his senses. The animalistic urge of lust he kept hidden for weeks on end.

"Yeah?" His words were a snarl against your ear, teeth scraping your jaw as he ripped his hand away. "'M gonna make it better. Gonna take away the pain."

Nails scratched at the back of his neck when you heard his claws slide out—cutting through the fabric that clung to you. It was sopping wet; proof that you hadn't in fact been lying about your need. Logan felt his cock leak in his jeans at the sight—how your slick clung to his fingers as he swiped along the gusset.

"All for me," he sighed.

"Uh-huh." If you thought you sounded needy before, that was nothing compared to this moment.

He eyed you briefly. The hazel you'd grown fond of now dark and clouded with lust. The plea for more lay on the tip of your tongue—ready to be laved against his skin the longer he took. But then he brought the fabric to his mouth, his tongue running across it with a broken groan. The breath was punched from your lungs—legs shaking as a wave of slick poured out of you.

"Oh fuck–" you gasped, cupping his chin to catch his lips in a kiss.

The clink of his belt buckle echoed like a gunshot in the small space. Your heart began to race. Fingers shaking as you watched him tug his cock free; fisting the red and leaking tip with a throaty moan. Saliva filled your mouth at the mere thought of him sliding between your lips. The image of him feeding you his cock with a smile.

He fanned the flames of your simmering fire, offering you pleasure with ease.

His hand gripped your other leg, positioning it over his hip before pushing you up along the wall. The yelp was muffled by his lips; your hands finding purchase against his hot skin.

"Gotta be real quiet now bub," he mumbled, sliding his cock along your drenched cunt.

The head tapped against your clit once, twice. By the third time your teeth were dug into your bottom lip so hard copper burst on your tongue.

"I promise."

He chuckled, breathless. You joined.

The compact space stretched out before you, expanding with each joined breath and laugh. Passion intertwined in your chest, reaching for him with a tender touch of reverence. And nothing existed but the two of you.

"Hey Logan."

His cock jumped at the sound of your voice so light and airy. "Yeah honey?"

"If I don't tell you after this." Your hips canted into his, grinding towards where he positioned himself. "I had a really nice time tonight."

His heart fluttered as your words settled into his skin—soaking up your warmth. "Me too."

The laughter diminished the second he pushed forward, sliding into you with a slickened thrust that left his body shuddering. You swallowed the sob that wrenched from your chest when he kept going. Stretching you until you felt the burn begin to seep into your body. You weren't prepared for how addicting it felt; how mindless he made you.

Seven minutes had surely blended into fifteen, giving the group no doubt of what you were doing. That only solidified when he bottomed out and you moaned so loud it nearly gave him a heart attack. His fingers clamored for something in his pocket—his lips sliding against yours to silence the endless whimpers. He filled you until you saw white behind your eyes each time they fluttered closed.

"They're gonna hear ya," he muttered. You caught a flash of lace before it was being pressed to your lips—willing you to part them and hold the fabric between your teeth.

Logan gave you one minute to find your brain in the muddled thoughts that filled you, before pulling out. Only to slam back in. Your cry was muffled—eyes rolled back—and he felt a searing triumph begin to form in his chest. At the sight of you in a messy state of bliss.

His hips slapped against yours, the wet slide of your cunt a loud echo. Adding to the symphony of his groans and your whimpered sounds. Your spit soaked into the lace, fingers digging hard along the planes of his back, and he felt you gush at the feel of his teeth sinking into your neck.

"So fuckin' sweet for me," he grunted, cupping your ass to push you back and forth on his cock. A shift in the angle had you going dumb. Eyes wide and glazed with tears. "My pretty girl huh?"

Fuck you wanted to scream. You longed to hear his name bounce off the closet walls and spill into the foyer of Wade's damn apartment. To remind them that time was still passing and their limit had reached the vastness of infinity.

He pounded into you with sharp gasps of praise, words that fell on ears deafened by the rush of blood that ran right to your head. Oxygen felt secondary when his cock kissed the wall of your cunt with such accuracy it left you blinded. Enough to have you sobbing into the spit soaked lace - tears spilling down your cheeks.

"You take it like it was fuckin' made for you yeah?"

You nodded, breasts bouncing as he fucked you along his cock—his other hand pressed to the wall. You took it like it was made for you, because it was made for you. Logan belonged to you. Whether he knew it now or not.

"I can feel you squeezin' me," he gasped. "Gonna cum?"

"Mhm," you mumbled, the squelch of your cunt loud enough to block out the laughter from the outside.

"Then do it honey." His thumb found your clit, swirling it with sharp pointed circles. Your toes curled in your shoes—head falling back to the wall with a soft thud. "That's it. Fuckin' cum for me."

"Mmff–" A sob of what morphed into his name tore from the depths of your body. Rendering you a shaky mess in his arms as you clamped down around his cock.

Slick poured out of you, coating the hair along the base of his stomach in your essence. Logan growled at the sight. His eyes narrowed and teeth bared with each stunted thrust of his hips into yours. Claws punctured the drywall behind you as a way to keep his body level. To ground himself as he came with a hoarse groan he quickly muffled into the top of your breast.

Grinding into you, he emptied himself entirely. Rope after rope of his spend now filling you to the point of dripping down to his balls.

You felt the need to drop to your knees and taste him.

To clean him entirely and place him neatly back in his jeans. But the movement of your body no longer remained an option—your legs numb and back sore from being pounded into the wall.

He removed the gag with a huff, kissing you gently with his thumbs pressed to the tops of your cheeks. A soft caress. A contract to the rough way he manhandled you.

"I can't feel my legs," you sighed into his mouth, tongue swiping along his bottom lip.

"You're not supposed to." The weak slap to his chest had him laughing louder than intended.

"Don't worry. Wade won't notice if you carry me."

He groaned, his teeth scraping at the flesh of your breast. "Don't fuckin’ say his name or I won't be able to fuck you again tonight."

You giggled, running your hands through his mussed hair. "Whiskey dick?"

"Shut up–"

"He's told you–"

Lips sealed over yours, hips pushing yours until the sigh stuttered from your chest. "Don't fuckin' start honey."

You smiled into the kiss. "Or you'll finish?"

A thump rammed against the door, startling the both of you. You half expected it to swing open and expose Logan with his jeans down to his knees and his softened cock still inside you. But all that came through was Wade's laughter—his knuckles rapping on the wood.

"Did he rise babygirl?" he shouted much to the detriment of the group who booed behind him.

"I will cut you open through the door!" Logan snarled. A triumphant laugh rattled the walls as Logan lowered you to the ground. Only for Wade to get the last official word.

"HE ROSE!"

[bunni-v1]

On the topic of his hands...what about lighter pressing down on your tummy when he's deep inside 👀 stopping his thrusts and just putting pressure there if you're refusing to look at him? I'm going to be SICK thinking about his sexy smooth voice as he croons in your ear and ignores any whining to give you what you want while he presses his big hand down harder for you both to feel him inside

I saw this last night and I’ve literally been fantasizing ever since. I’m gonna kiss you through the screen thank you for blessing my thoughts 🙏

TW!! Belly Bulge, Size Kink, Reader has a pussy for those who aren’t comfy <3

Listennnn, Lighter’s hands are big, but his dick is bigger. Without going into detail (because I’m seriouslyyyyy gonna ruin all the fun of my headcannons), that shit is hugeeeee and it’s got two nice prominent veins and it’s such a workout just getting it in, but it’s sooo worth.

Because it’s so big it’s nearly impossible to take him without the head peaking out through your little tummy. It’s really one of his favorite sites in the world, getting to see the way his dick moves inside you. Each upward thrust making the little bulge more and more pronounced~

(When he first noticed it he was genuinely horrified that he’d hurt you really badly 😭 He wasn’t aware it was physiologically possible to do that to someone… poor guy…)

The first time he ever pressed on it was a total accident, by the way. He was just trying to reposition himself so he could get deeper but in his sex fueled daze he missed the bed and put his full weight on your stomach and fuuucckkk did that feel good. His brain had to physically pause him to catch up to the sensation. He could literally feel the way you were contracting and sucking him in through your skin. Each little twitch of his dick or squeeze of your pussy was clear as day. (He’s not religious, but he started to believe in a god that day).

Your reaction was the best thing about it, though. The way you threw your head back and let out the most broken cry of his name nearly made him cum on the spot. You squeezed him so tight at the new sensation, like you could somehow possibly get him even deeper than he already was. His hand covered nearly the whole expanse of your lower abdomen, and it was so warm as it pressed into you. It definitely didn’t help that he was just staring at you while he held you down like that. Each pathetic stutter of your hips had him pressing harder, just to hear those noises. Just to feel how desperate you were for him.

Oh, Lighter has a new favorite torture method~

If you start misbehaving at all, and I mean even a little bit, this is the first thing he pulls out. I’m serious. You’re not making enough noise? You’re not looking at him? You’re being argumentative? Good luck.

He’ll pull alllll the way out to the very last millimeter, his tip just hardly grazing your sloppy little entrance. Then he slams his hips in, at an upward angle to ensure both you and him can see it through your stomach. And he just stops, slowly tracing his hand down your thigh, across your puffy little clit, until it finally presses down nice and hard against your abdomen.

He’ll lean down on top of you, bodies flush against each other, only worsening the sensation as he whispers “Now, don’t make me torture both of us. Be good for me and I’ll start moving again~” If you still don’t listen he’ll push just a little more, “You gotta behave, rewards are earned baby.” And you can feel the rumble of his voice through his chest, ughhhhh.

(This was wayyyy longer than I intended lol. I’ve got the Lighter brainrot bad I fear.)

[inquisimer]

Happy Friday!! 💚👀

How about: the last thing i want is to see you get hurt. Featuring Arlow and Viago?

thank you for the prompt!! it hit really well, which is to say that it got much longer than I intended 😂 but here we go, from the requisite "Viago routinely poisons Rook de Riva" bit to Angst and Feels and Crow Politics 🤌

Arlow de Riva & Viago | 2035 words | @dadrunkwriting - da4 spoilers

-

Not for the first time, Arlow hesitated outside Viago’s study door. She knew he was within, but her stomach churned with worry and anticipation. She was happy, unbelievably happy, and he had the power to crush that with a single look.

She unclenched her fist and stared down at the ring. Dragon bone, inlaid on a band of intertwined nevarrite and obsidian. Black and purple and gold—the colors of the Crows. But she had always been a Crow; this represented something so much more.

“I can hear you thinking out there. Come in, or go away—do not linger. It’s rude.”

It was so typical, so normal in a way that things had not been for a very long time, it almost erased Arlow’s concerns. Her fingers closed, hiding the ring from view, and she pushed the door open.

Viago had a spread of vials on his desk, and a tray for checking antidotes in the middle of the array. Emil was curled around his shoulders; his tongue flicked out at Arlow in greeting as she shut the door at her back.

“Hello Emil,” she said dryly. “Viago.”

“Come here.” He beckoned her forward with one hand; the other held a pipette filled with a murky brown-green solution. “Perfect timing. I need to test this.”

Arlow eyed the mixture warily. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d laid her up for days with one of his concoctions. But her constitution was better now, and so was his estimation of what was and wasn’t ready to test. Plus, if he knocked her out and the ring fell loose, she wouldn’t have to explain.

She propped herself on the free corner of his desk and opened her mouth. Viago dropped three precise dots of the solution on her tongue and waited, watching expectantly.

“Oh,” she choked, hand coming up to her throat. “That burns.”

Viago quickly scribbled a few notes in his journal. He set the pipette down and cupped her jaw, prying her eyelids back and turning her face toward the torchlight. He hummed, nodding to himself and making a few more quick notes. Arlow’s fist pressed hard against the polished wood of his desk, but the pressure did little for her—the poison might have burned her throat, but it was numbing her extremities now. It hurt, knowing she couldn’t roll her eyes to tell Viago to hurry up with the antidote.

She focused on her breathing. Despite her joking, she didn’t actually want to pass out in Viago’s study—she’d never hear the end of it.

“Okay, now this.” Viago drew a few drops of a yellowish liquid into a fresh pipette—if she had more control of her facial muscles, Arlow would have eyed it warily. It would not be the first time he fed her piss under this guise. But at the moment, she cared more about regaining her faculties, and she didn’t have the control to close her mouth, anyway.

She couldn’t tell how much he dropped onto her tongue, only that when enough of it hit, her nerves started buzzing like an angry beehive. He followed it with a spritz of something clear and vaguely acidic, then handed her a glass of water. She tossed it back, swished, and spit into the bucket on the edge of his desk.

“Well?”

Arlow flexed her fingers, running her tongue around the still-tingling inside of her mouth. “Assuming you wanted instantaneous numbing, I’d say it needs work. Not that I’d be precise or anything, but I definitely would have been able to haphazardly stab someone for at least the half minute you had me sitting here.

And as they both knew, half a minute was more than enough time to kill someone. Viago pursed his lips, nodding and muttering under his breath as he made more notes. “Good, good. Did you need something?”

“Yeah, um.” Arlow licked her lips, letting him think she was still recovering from the poison’s effects. It wouldn’t alter his results that much. But in truth, the sweat on her palms and the shake in her voice had nothing to do with what he’d given her. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was an adult and this was a choice she was allowed to make. Whatever Viago decided, no matter how much it hurt, would be on him. “I have to tell you something. And also ask a question.”

Her deliberately evasive phrasing drew his shaper attention as he corked one of his vials and set it aside. He folded his arms and raised a brow at her. “Out with it, then.”

Right. She uncurled her fingers and the torchlight caught fetchingly in the metal edges of the band, danced tantalizingly off the angular face of the stone. Viago froze, and she knew he had stopped breathing.

“That is a Dellamorte ring,” he said after a moment. Arlow’s throat constricted; it was both easier, and not, that he recognized it. “The Dellamorte ring, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You’re not.”

“Why do you have it?”

“Lucanis gave it to me,” Arlow said. “When he asked me to marry him.”

Emil’s tongue flicked out in a hiss; it was the only sound. Arlow pinched the ring between her fingers and held it up. It really was beautiful, and there was strength in both that, and the promise it represented. Barely breathing, she slipped it onto her finger and clenched her fist. “I said yes.”

She forced herself to look directly at Viago as she said it. Not defiance—determination, and respect. Her heart cared about what he thought, but as a Crow she owed her Talon at least this much, and she respected that.

“Of course he did,” Viago finally said. Arlow didn’t visibly relax, but her gut unclenched; he didn’t sound angry. “And of course you did. Mierda.”

His brow furrowed as he studied her, silent, and Arlow deeply regretted not doing this when Teia was around. Teia, at least, always knew what to say, and just said it, right away. And she could read Viago better than anyone—Arlow might suspect what the working of his jaw, or his fingers twitching in their gloves meant, but Teia would know for sure. And would say it, even if Viago wouldn’t.

But this was more than a matter of her personal relationship. Because of who Lucanis was, because of who they were, as Crows, this was a matter of politics. And Teia, dear as she was, was the Talon of another House. This was between Arlow and Viago.

“Are you sure?” Viago’s voice cracked, and he covered for it by stepping forward and taking her hand. His gloves were thick enough that she felt no warmth through the leather; she simply watched as he swiped his thumb over the ring. “I know you have been happy. I know he makes you happy. But he is the First Talon. Tying yourself to him in this way will have consequences. Lethal consequences, if you aren’t careful—and I think we both know you’ve struggled with that in the past.”

Arlow couldn’t help but laugh, soft and melancholy. It was so fitting, and she didn’t even cringe when Viago’s concern sharpened into a glare at her amusement.

“I am sure,” she said, curling her fingers around his and squeezing just once before letting go. “More sure than I’ve been of anything in a long time.”

Viago nodded slowly. “Very well. I—well. I suspect you would do what you wished, regardless of my thoughts. As you always have. I simply do not wish to see you hurt.”

A warmth bled through Arlow and the corners of her mouth ticked up in a slight smile. “It’s just a formality, Viago. If anyone plans to leverage me against Lucanis, they will do it whether I wear his ring or not. And if Lucanis hurts me, he will cut off his own hand before you ever get to him.”

“Good.” Viago huffed. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You had a question, as well?”

“I rather thought you would ask it for me.” Arlow bit her lip. “I—well. It’s the matter of Houses, and which one I’ll belong to when this is done.”

Viago’s fingers clenched on the edge of the desk. Around his shoulders, Emil hissed, slithering around his neck in a reaction the distress Viago was holding back. Wordlessly, he removed the snake from his collar and deposited him back in his tank. He stayed there, staring down at the fire rune, back turned to the desk, and to Arlow. “That isn’t a question.”

“Cazza, Viago, do you need me to spell it out for you?”

“Yes!” he snapped, whirling around. “If you are asking permission to leave my House for his, then I would hope you have the decency to say it to my face.”

Okay. So maybe she did need to spell it out for him.

“That’s not what I’m asking,” she said softly. She slipped off the desk and walked to his side. “When you made me a de Riva, you saved my life. You made my life. And you made it one worth living. My heart belongs to that history as much as it does to Lucanis, and I am not so quick to cast it aside.” She took a deep breath. “But—there is only one way in which I truly stay a de Riva, and also marry Lucanis.”

Viago’s lips had parted with surprise as she spoke, an unknowable emotion shining in his eyes. Now, he pursed them, as she led him to the question she was actually asking.

“You want me to give you to him,” her murmured. Arlow nodded.

“But I know what that means,” she added hastily. “I know that it is not a choice, or a promise to be made lightly. If I thought for even a moment that it would be a detriment to our house, I would never ask. But—I do not think it will mean anything that you would not already do.”

She swallowed. “But if you’re not willing… I understand. And I will accept your decision, either way.”

“Well, that would be a first,” Viago snorted. He clasped her by the shoulders, and Arlow was surprised by how clear and certain his gaze seemed. She’d never known Viago to make a decision so swiftly. Usually, there were days of agonizing, debating, considering the angles. But not this time. “Arlow. Pajarito, you think I would let you get away? It was my hand that lifted you into this House, and it was my name that you wore out to change the world. And when I gave it to you—“ he swallowed, throat bobbing awkwardly. Arlow covered his hands with her own, eyes shining. It was the most words she’d ever heard Viago string together at once outside of a lecture and she thought she might be able to live on this forever.

“When I gave it to you, I didn’t know, but I was giving it a life beyond poisons, and scheming, and grief. I would not force it on you now, but de Riva is yours as long as you wish to wear it. And though he is hardly worthy, and it is dangerous, if you are asking, then yes. I will find a pair of gloves suitable to give you to him.”

Arlow threw her arms around his neck, lifting herself up onto tip toes, not caring that he was stiff under her for just a bit too long before he wrapped his arms around her torso and buried his face in her hair.

“Thank you,” she said against his chest. “I—thank you. Thank you.”

Viago drew back, his smile genuine, but worried. “Of course,” he said, even though they both knew no such assurance had ever been real. “Have you told Teia?”

Arlow shook her head, and to her surprise Viago threw back his head and laughed. Then he gestured to the door, grinning a bit too smugly for Arlow’s taste.

“Come,” he said. “I want to see her face when she finds out you told me first.”

[sleepymirko]

. .•°•. . Unspoken comfort . .•°•. .

..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..

Oliver Aiku shows up at your apartment unannounced, noticing he hasn’t seen you around much lately. What he didn’t expect to hear was that your boyfriend cheated on you...

Word count: 1,4k

Oliver Aiku x fem! Reader

Fluff, slight angst, comfort, friends to ??, Aiku is a player but we're not surprised

Enjoy! (and let me know if there's some errors! English isn't my first language!

..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..

It was an uneventful day in the middle of fall, and the landscape was dressed in warm colors. However, Oliver could barely admire it as his view was quickly obstructed by the red locks of his friend, Sendou, who sat next to him in the karaoke room, killing time with some friends.

He looked back at his phone, scrolling on his chats when he came across yours. It was nearly three weeks ago the last time you guys talked, Oliver knew that sometimes you don't answer right away for various reasons but.. why he felt like it was a bit strange? Maybe because you were close friends? Maybe he should text you something?

-Did you join some top-secret hibernation society or something? I swear I haven’t seen you in weeks.-

A girl boldly sat on his lap, looking for his attention as he was too busy to notice her at first. "Who are you writing to?" The girl asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "A friend. She's been a bit too evanescent lately."

"Does it matter though? It's not like you have time right now." She said with a sultry smile, gaining the soccer player's attention. "Uh? Really?" He teased as she smirks in response. His phone buzzed and the girl frowned but she was stubborn enough to stay.

-yeah I just don't feel like going out. But I'm doing good-

-you don't feel like it? Sweets I'm pretty sure you barely leave the house-

-..are you bored? Because I'm pretty sure that you remembered me because you were probably scrolling your chats.-

Ouch, that hurt. But now he was sure that something was up.

-ok my bad. I'll be a better friend but you have to remember answering too. This time it was your fault👀-

-I'll be more careful then 🙄-

The interaction was brief enough to make him smile but he thought it was time to check on her. He didn't had to ask the girl to get up that she was already out of sight.

It was definitely time to check if you were going good like you claimed to be. "Already leaving, Oliver?" the girl said, smiling subtly. This girl is resilient, he thought. "Something urgent came up. Really a pity not to have fun with such a pretty thing," he said, smirking as she blushed. "And here I thought I could give you a taste of heaven…" she said, looking at him with her lips slightly pouty.

Oh, what a sweet temptation women are.. he thought.

Somehow, they always managed to make him do what they wanted, but when they were no longer fun, the magic just disappeared. Sometimes, he almost felt bad about it, but the high was too sweet to abandon.

"I'm afraid we have to save this conversation for another day" the soccer player said as he opened the door, leaving a pretty frustrated girl behind. "To me, she seems more than a friend" the girl spat, unable to mask her jealousy any longer. His head turned, but the door was already closed. More than a friend? It wasn't the first time he had heard such words. His previous girlfriends would surely agree—they had said the same thing when he messed up.

But you were a different kind of story. You two were friends because your parents were on good terms, and one thing led to another. You got close pretty easily, maybe thanks to his sisters, who always asked about you. He even taught you how to ride a bike and even how to dye his hair. Strolling through the streets, he glanced back at his phone, rereading the latest messages and chuckling. The walk had been unexpectedly shorter than intended, and he now found himself in front of her door. He knocked and waited for her to open it, confident she would look slightly surprised.

When Y/N opened the door, she was completely taken by surprise. Oliver stood there, unmoving, a signature smirk playing on his perfect features. She noticed he was wearing his soccer jersey, guessing he’d had practice earlier in the day.

“Oliver...?” she half questioned, surprise lacing her voice.

“Who else?” he joked, cracking a smile as she involuntarily mirrored it. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but she loved how effortlessly he made her smile—sometimes it felt like he had a spell over her.

“I’m here to check on you, and I must say, you exceeded my expectations. Can I come in?” he asked, stepping slightly closer to her door. Instinctively, she moved to the side, allowing him in.

“Sure... come in,” she said, closing the door behind him.

They walked into the kitchen, and she offered him something to drink. “Why the sudden visit? I’m perfectly fine,” she said, attempting a casual tone.

“That doesn’t look like ‘perfectly fine’ to me,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m just feeling a bit down, but it happens sometimes. I’ll get over it eventually,” she replied.

“I don’t know if I believe you,” Oliver said, staring at his glass of water, idly turning it in his hands.

“Why is that...?” y/n asked, confused by his skepticism.

“Because you’re not looking at me. And if I need to be more precise, you’re avoiding eye contact,” he said, setting the glass down on the table and scanning her with concern. She felt exposed as his eyes took in the way she glanced everywhere but at him.

C'mon, look at me.. he thought. Just a peek, if you're doing fine, you shouldn't struggle to make eye contact.. right?

There was something about her avoidant mannerisms that he found unnerving, how her hands were buried in the sleeves of her oversized hoodie.

He was craving her gaze, a surging need for her to finally let go of what was holding her hostage.

And then, as if she had been holding her breath for a long time, she finally spoke.

She looked down, her expression carefully masking her emotional state. Her tone was low, every fiber of her being tired and helpless:

"He cheated on me."

How ironic. Of all the people who could have heard her story, it had to be him.

Sure, they were friends, but she knew better than to accept her growing affection for the soccer player. They never talked about love, and she was painfully aware that his lifestyle could easily upset her.

After all, the guy was a cheater too, wasn’t he?

Oliver, on the other hand, was shocked. He should have suspected something, especially with how closed off she had seemed. Now, it felt like an invisible wall had risen between them, and seeing her so miserable stirred an unexpected emotion within him.

He felt an intense urge to punch the guy in the guts for the audacity of pulling such a stunt, but his brain quickly worked against him.

Why are you so mad about this?

You should be the last person to talk.

It's not like you're any different.

He was furious—at himself and at her ex. It was hypocritical, sure, but it made him wonder: would he have done the same?

"Shit, I shouldn't have pressed you. Now I feel like an asshole," he said, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

"It's okay. We broke up two weeks ago. I feel better now," she said, looking at him, not expecting such a reaction from the soccer player.

Was he... upset?

"So you're telling me that you're okay? When you opened the door, I immediately noticed that something was off. You don't have to play tough. Not with me," he said, his tone stern but carrying a hint of concern.

It was enough to make her tears fall, her castle crumbling down. Oliver didn’t waste time, pulling her into a tight hug.

Strangely enough, she felt like she could finally let it all out—the anger, the sadness, the overwhelming sense of betrayal.

After some time, as they sat on the couch with her still in his arms, she finally relaxed, exhaustion overtaking her.

"Oli, I'm really tired right now... I don't know why. I mean, I slept more than enough last night," she said softly, her voice slow and faint.

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm, and she felt her cheeks flush slightly.

"Then sleep, sweets. When you wake up, I'll still be here. For you."

She looked up at him, only to regret it when his gaze held hers, an unspoken feeling swirling in his eyes that she couldn't identify.

Lowering her head slowly, she let her eyes close, giving rest to both her mind and her racing heart.

Please let me know if something doesn't feel right! Thank you for reading!

[alwritey-aphrodite]

❛ keep it. it looks better on you. ❜ tasm peter 👀👀👀

With summer right around the corner, you’ve stopped listening to news stations and weathermen and starting listening to your heart when it comes to the forecast for the day. In your mind, it will always be sunny and warm, and maybe the longer you continue to dress for that weather, the more the universe will get the hint and finally turn spring into summer after the everlasting winter you’d had.

“It’s supposed to get cold again today,” Peter warns when he sees your bare legs and arms as you meet him on the steps of your building, the crooked smile on his face enough to surpass the sun. Ever since you stopped listening to professionals, Peter’s taken it upon himself to be your own professional meteorologist, keeping you up to date on all forecasts. Most of the time, you humor him and grab a coat.

“I’ve decided it’s summer,” you say as you descend the last few concrete steps, making it clear that you don’t intend to go back up and change, even though you’re already a bit chilly with the breeze. Still, it’s too late in the year for you to keep bundling up every time you leave your house, so you’ll just grin and bear it and let Peter say ‘I told you so’ when the time comes.

That time comes much sooner than you’d like, the wind picking up and the sun hiding behind the clouds as you and Peter walk through the park near your building following lunch, too broke to pay to get in anywhere and too restless to go inside. You’ve got your arms wrapped around your middle, one on top of the other to keep you as warm as possible, and your teeth are so close to chattering you can barely focus on the story Peter’s telling you of his disastrous attempt to surprise May.

It all happens so fluidly, you don’t fully realize what’s happened until it’s over. Still in the middle of his story and tilting his head to look over at you every so often, Peter unzips his hoodie and shrugs it off before draping it over your shoulders, and your body responds before your brain can process and slides your arms into the sleeves. It’s long on you, perfect for Peter’s lanky frame, and the hem brushes against your bare thighs as you walk, but you’re so blessedly warm you can barely think of the implications.

Peter doesn’t seem bothered by the cold at all, hands stuffed in his pockets and his deceptively strong biceps on display in his t-shirt as he keeps telling his story like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. Your brain is still in a spiral, and you can’t focus on anything other than the fact that you’re wearing Peter’s hoodie, and it’s soft and warm and smells like him, and you have to stop yourself from tucking your nose in and inhaling.

The sun soon makes its return, glinting through the trees and illuminating Peter’s profile that you’re fully convinced he’s an angel, even though you’ve had your suspicions before. As the sun warms the air, you go to slip your arms back out of the hoodie and hand it back to Peter, but he’s already stopping you with gentle hands, pulling the sweatshirt back into place on your shoulders.

“Keep it, it looks better on you,” he tells you, accompanied by one of those signature Peter smiles that always makes your heart stop, and paired with what he just said you’re certain you’ll drop dead on the spot. He just tilts his head, still grinning, still framed by the sun like he’s emitting his own light, and then he just goes on walking, as if he doesn’t know the effect he has on you.

Luckily, your legs manage to work as your brain struggles to keep up, running into overdrive as it starts and sputters like an old car over what just happened. Peter keeps glancing over at you, like he expects something of you, but he continues with that innocent expression that leaves you baffled because he has to know the effect he has on you, with his gentle touches and soft smiles and beautiful voice. He slips his hands from his pockets, swinging them by his side as he walks and brushing against your knuckles, and now you're certain: Peter Parker will be the death of you.

[melanieph321]

Hi, could you do a Ruben Dias x reader x Josko Gvardiol👀

OMG OMG OMG! 🙈🙈

10 DAYS OF REQUESTS

(DAY 2)

Ruben Dias/Joško Gvardiol x Reader - Tussle Of Three

18+

Must be nice. Is all I can say. 😝

Enjoy! 💞

They weren't fighting over you. Why would they? When you wanted them both.....at the sametime.

Ruben wasn't shy about a threesome. However, he did feel some type of way about sharing you with someone else. Someone who wanted you as much as him.

Badlier even.

"Come here Y/N, sit on my lap."

"She's not going anywhere."

Joško rolled his eyes at Ruben's paranoia. Although his teammate agreed to experiment, Ruben was far from getting a participation medal afterwards, that was forsure. "Relax mate. I just want her to be comfortable, and she will be....on my lap."

Ruben's hand tightened around your arm and that's when you knew to interfere. "Guys. Come on." The dimmed hotel room was already steamy enough. "Why fight when we can fuck?"

Both men grinned.

After a couple of persuasive kisses Ruben let you walk over to the bed, to Joško, who greated you with rough hands that tugged off the straps of your dress, sliding the fabric down your naked shoulders.

As stubborn as he was, Ruben sat back and watched another man play with his wife. He sat back in the leather chair placed in the corner of the baroque suite. He sat back with a hand in his pants, stroking himself slowly as he saw your body unravel in the darkness.

"God." You moaned, to the sensation of Joško's hand moving between your thighs.

"Nah, leave him out of this." He chuckled against your skin. His free hand was brought to your back, steading you before traveling downwards to slap the swollen flesh of your ass, leaving a stinging mark.

"Careful." Ruben hissed, ushering a warning in a steady voice. He had stopped stroking himself, eyes narrowed at the bed.

"What can I say?" Joško teased with a smile. "I couldn't help myself. Sorry"

"It's okay baby, I liked it." You assured, watching Ruben over your shoulder. He grunted in response, a signal for the two of you to continue. You did so in a matter of foreplay. What Joško did to your body was only a fraction of what your husband's darkest fantasies intended. Joško was actually sweet compared to Ruben. Although he made his teammate watch on as he tortured you by burying his fingers deep inside of your pussy while his mouth latched onto the crest of your breasts, taking his time with your stiff nipples in his wet mouth.

You squirmed above him, struggling to keep still. The pleasure was building up to something intense, something dangerously on the verge of rupturing. But just as you wanted to explode, Ruben tapped in with a heavy hand on your shoulder. "I'll take it from here."

You came down from the high with an unsatisfied whimper as Josko stepped aside. No questions asked. He knew better than to get in the way of Ruben and his desire for you.

Wait!" You protested.

This was meant to be a threesome. Something for the three of you to enjoy. What was the point of having all three of you in the same room if one person was constantly forced to stand back and watch?

"Babe, is this not okay for you?" Ruben looked to you in concern.

"No."

He immediately backed off.

"Wait, no. I mean yes. Yes, this is okay for me. However..." You reached for your husband's hand and did the same thing with Joško's. "I want all three of us to enjoy this. Please, it's what we came here for."

The two men regarded each other skeptically, a stand off between two lovers. But then Ruben initiated a peace offering by leaning forward and pressing a feather-like kiss to your neck. He then moved you to stand to the side of him while he did the same thing to Joško, his lips lingering a bit longer against his teammates pale skin. The men shared a knowing glanced and went onto offer you a seat on the bed.

"After you." Joško nodded at Ruben, who gladly got rid of the rest of his clothes, joining you on the bed. Joško did the same, stripping himself naked to let his erect cock and clenching muscles reveal his egerness for a tussle of three.

Your heart fluttered having two men sandwich you on a dream bed, their erect penises grinding against you like thick lodges. For a second, while drowning in the caressing of your body, a sudden fear struck you. An irrational fear that these two men wider in size and height, could do as they pleased with you. In any way they wished to. For as long as they wished to and as hard as they wished to.

But this was Ruben you were fearing. Your loving husband who, despite the unethical situation, whispered sweet nothings in your ear as if you were alone, making love in your bed at home. Even Joško, with his barbaric appearance, never forced you into uncomfortable positions without reminding you of your safeword of the night. And his lips upon your body, his tounge sometimes inside of it, never drove you over an edge you weren't prepared to leap from.

Together, the two men made you the center of attention. Taking turns to please you in ways you never thought possible. They left you tender and warm skinned. Heat generating from places one would never expect to generate as much moisture as it did. And when it all eventually came to a finish, sunlight had begun creeping into the room.

By that time you had transformed into one. One thrusting body. Ruben and Joško, taking you from the front and behind as you cried out the final rises of pleasure. The fifteenth time that night.

DON'T MISS - 10 DAYS OF REQUESTS

(DAY 1)

[cuffmeinblack]

Hi~ is it okay if I request a Fluffy oneshot of Ominis gaunt x fem Hufflepuff Mc?

Like she’s generally a very soft spoken girl (tho she got sass for days) and maybe Ominis stumbles upon her while she’s singing “Secret Garden- Sleepsong” in the undercroft, because it’s a family lullaby and she’s feeling a little homesick.. (Post good ending, Sebs spending the weekend with Anne & his uncle)

He’s so entranced by her singing.. he ends up making notes on when she seems to go down there to sing, just so he can listen to her.. (also he’s a bit nervous about letting her know, that he knows she can sing. So he’s done all this in secret.)

And maybe sometime later a mean-girl group from the frog choir corners MC, talking shit about how she probably has a trashy voice or something.. Ominis ain’t having that!!

He just blurts out that ACTUALLY she has the voice of a GODDESS!! and they aren’t even worthy enough to listen to a Dogbog snor!

Maybe MC’s a little confident after his little stunt so she gets super flirty~

Seb’s gonna be so confused when he gets back to an unusually flirtatious MC constantly making moves on a VERY flustered Ominis.. 👀 but he’s happy for them at least.. and won a LOT of Galions, but that’s beside the point!

Basically all cute shit.. Ominis deserves SO much Love.. 🥺

Two little words

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader

Tags: fluff | Hufflepuff reader

1k words

A/: Hello, thank for your request 🖤 I enjoyed writing this from Ominis' point of view. Hope you enjoy.

I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow

Bless you with love for the road that you go

Ominis knew he wasn't alone as soon he stepped into the Undercroft—he immediately jumped back and pressed himself against the cold stone wall upon hearing the noise. Quite what made him hide, he wasn't sure, only that the moment he had stumbled upon seemed personal and intimate.

May you sail far to the far fields of fortune

With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet

The voice could only belong to one person, the only other one who knew about the Undercroft besides himself and Sebastian. She sang with a gentle lilt, the melody was sombre and sweet and tinged with sadness. Ominis knew he should either make his presence known or leave, the longer he left it the more awkward his discovery would become, but he found himself unable to move, partially from fear but a greater desire to hear her sing more.

And may you need never to banish misfortune

May you find kindness in all that you meet

The sweet song stopped suddenly and Ominis' gut twisted uncomfortably when he realised why—she was crying. Her breath hitched and she tried to stifle the sobs, breathing deeply and sniffing through her nose. Ominis felt intensely guilty for intruding—he didn't think she would appreciate the intrusion, even though he wanted to comfort her, she had clearly come here for solitude. Regretfully, he felt his way along the wall and back out of the door.

Ominis knew she often roamed the castle or fled into the forest or Hogsmeade, she was hard to keep track of, but he started to notice a pattern to her behaviour. She would receive an owl from her parents every Monday, and that evening she would disappear, walking through the central hall and sneaking off to the Undercroft. The second time he found her, he had intended to confront her and offer his support, but once again found himself distracted and enchanted by her sweet voice. He knew she wouldn't willingly sing in front of him, and he so wanted to listen.

She sang a different song every time he visited, though it was often a sad and slow tune. Ominis thought she must miss her home terribly and wondered about her life away from Hogwarts—a shy and intensely private person, much like Ominis, she didn't often mention her personal life, preferring to devote her conversations to her studies and friends' lives. Every time he heard her sing, standing in the shadows, his heart raced and on more than one occasion he felt wet hot tears sliding down his face.

All good things must come to an end, and for Ominis that was on a Tuesday afternoon a month after he had first heard her sing. He walked across the courtyard on his way to Herbology, his wand held aloft and listening to the chatter surrounding him. His ears heard her voice, now so familiar and comforting, though it was full of hurt and anger.

"There's no need to be so horrible."

"We're just giving you some criticism, if you can't take it then you shouldn't be singing at all," a second voice rang, ugly and rough in comparison.

Ominis followed the conversation.

"Telling me I sound like a banshee isn't criticism, it's needlessly mean. I don't know what your problem is," she said, her voice breaking at the end of the sentence.

More voices, cruelly laughing. The second voice chimed in again.

"Just give up, you'll never make the choir with your voice."

Ominis leaned against the pillar of an archway, his hands shaking in anger.

"I happen to think she has the voice of an angel, and we can all agree I have much better taste than you," he drawled.

He heard a shuffle as the group found the source of the insult.

"Nobody asked you, Gaunt," the ugly voice said.

"I spend my life listening, and let me tell you that she would be the best thing to happen to your pathetic little choir."

The silence that greeted his retort let him knew he had won the exchange. Several huffs were expelled and he heard the sound of footsteps retreating. Her sweet voice filled his ears, asking a question he didn't want to answer.

"Thank you, Ominis. When have you ever heard me sing?"

Ominis blushed, trying to find words that wouldn't anger or embarrass her.

"I have to confess, I found myself listening as you sang in the Undercroft. I apologise for not showing myself, I should have."

"I thought you must have. Next time…tell me when you're there?" she replied.

"Next time?"

"If you want. I'll see you later, Ominis."

The response surprised him, and he spent the next few hours utterly distracted from his lessons, turning the conversation and his memories of the Undercroft over in his mind. Was it an invitation? Should he turn up next week? He wanted to more than anything, but he worried he had somehow misinterpreted her interest.

That doubt was put to rest by the time he reached the great hall that evening. He followed Sebastian to their usual seat, where she sat waiting. Some of the Slytherins despised that a Hufflepuff often sat at their house table for meals, but they didn't comment anymore lest they find themselves on the receiving end of Ominis' ruthless sharp-witted insults, or the end of Sebastian's wand.

"Hello, you two. Good afternoon?"

"Fantastic, blew myself up in Potions," Sebastian said sarcastically, "You?"

"Not bad, it got better after I saw you, Ominis."

Ominis blushed, the heat rising in his cheeks, smiling bashfully as Sebastian started choking next to him.

"I'm glad. I'm sorry they were so awful," Ominis replied, ignoring the coughing coming from his friend.

"My hero," she said in a breathy voice.

Yes, Ominis often found himself thinking about her singing but those two little words might have been the the most beautiful he had ever heard.

[furiousflamingfeline]

What are your good and bad thoughts about the Reds 👀

Good question, I’m sure from recent posts on Reddit and other social media it might look like I hate the Reds. I don’t. 😇

I’ve been in this fandom for all 26 years and Blossom is my favorite character of all time, so I’m pretty much open to shipping her with almost anyone as long as it’s thoughtfully written and keeps her pretty much in character.

My small child started watching PPG last year which got me back into the fandom after being away for a while. Since then I’ve read pretty much all the Reds that’s worth reading on FF.net and AO3. Some great stuff out there, of course. But after a year of consuming Reds I decided I was tired of the pairing so I wanted to try writing Blossom with almost anyone else.

I mostly don’t like the fanon exclusive version of Brick when his entire character completely changes with no explanation, pretty much only just to make him a palatable love interest for Blossom. Hint: if the character has to change drastically to make Blossom like them, maybe it wasn’t meant to be lol. I particularly hate the dark triad mysterious badass trope that the fandom likes to give him. I just don’t buy it. I feel strongly that (IF the boys got friendly with the girls as they aged) Brick would just be slightly nerdy and a bit of a dweeb. Best comment I got on my story recently says he would grow up to be a dramatic theater kid and I can’t unsee it now. (A good example I can think of right now is “On Top,” on FF.net where Brick is just a giant goofball and Blossom’s exasperation actually makes their chemistry really adorable).

If a good Reds story comes across my dash I will definitely still read it, and I’ll never turn down a spicy Reds scene. But as far as actual realistic compatibility with Blossom? Not a fan.

This is the girl who envisioned a perfect society where the world is run by women. Brick in the canon, of course, is famously a misogynist bully. Making him mature as he ages is fine, but it’s just hard for me to buy that both characters would make a beeline in the complete opposite direction, not without some serious setup by the author.

So, that’s why I’m writing Harry Pitt/Blossom right now. I got sick of the fact that there were almost no alternatives for Blossom and I figured if I couldn’t find it, I’d write it myself.

My other OTPs are Blossom/Princess, Blossom/Butch and Blossom/Robin. (A multi-chapter Blossom/Princess story is already written and coming soon, but I gotta finish the art for it and proofread more before I post lol.)

My headcanon for Blossom is bisexual and for Brick is gay. One fic I read once that was super cute was Blossom doing Brick’s makeup for the first time after he begrudgingly asks for help. That, to me, is a peak Reds interaction. Brick dealing with his true self and internalized homophobia and Blossom being pure Everything Nice for him. Thats’s just *chef’s kiss*

Anyway this comment was way longer than intended lol. I just love Blossom and Brick separately and I wish they worked better together in my headcanons but I like them better as bi/gay rivals or besties rather than romantically.

[elitadream]

Oh! Speaking of Toadsworth, how would he react once he found out about Kamek almost kidnapping Peach in Sing For Absolution?

That's another question @drones-of-innocence would probably answer much better than I! ^-^ But one way or another, he would be absolutely appalled that such a thing happened. 😨😥

I imagine him spotting the Captain of the Guard while on his early routine walk the next morning, and noting how frazzled he looks. As soon as he would hear the news- ("A fight has occurred in the Princess' chambers, Sir! The evil wizard Kamek has infiltrated the castle while the Kingdom was alseep. It appears he was aiming to cast a dark spell on Her Majesty." / "Thank the stars, mister Mario was able to intervene in time and neutralize the threat! Kamek has since been removed from the perimeter and is currently being detained." / "The Princess is physically unharmed, but she may need time to emotionally recover from the ordeal.") - he would hurry towards Peach's private quarters as fast as his feet can carry him. He would find the Princess quietly sitting in her bed, looking at the empty space next to her, alone and seemingly lost in thought. Appearing strangely calm and contemplative amidst the chaos left in her own room.

"My child! Are you alright?"

He would take her hands in his, fretting and lamenting about what happened, but to his surprise, Peach would seem... distracted. As if something else entirely was occupying her mind.

"I'm fine, Toadsworth. No need to worry about me," she would assure him softly, her gaze however drifting back to the covers. Letting his own eyes wander, the old toad would eventually see the red smears staining her carpet, near her shattered mirror and destroyed vanity.

"Goodness," he would breathe, recoiling in horror. "Is that..."

Beside him, Peach would lower her head with a trembling sigh, curling in on herself.

"He got hurt," she would mutter, waveringly. "And it's all my fault."

Suddenly remembering that the Guard mentioned Mario, Toadsworth would hum and sit beside her, patting her arm comfortingly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He would venture, offering her his handkerchief.

And so, she would recount her night to him. Telling him all that happened, from the moment she abruptly awoke to the moment she fell back asleep.

"I asked him to stay, and he did," she would murmur, with a touch of wonder. "Even before Kamek arrived, he could sense that I was in danger. And he protected me. Risked his life for me, again. How could I ever repay him?"

"Oh, I believe merely knowing that you are safe is all he needs or wants," Toasworth would answer, giving her a kind and knowing smile. "It's something he and I have in common."

Peach would lean a bit against him, letting out a fragile and thoughtful sound. "He is so good to me, Toadsworth. Always has been. I don't deserve a friend like him."

"A 'friend', you say?" Toadsworth would echo teasingly, earning him a tiny giggle. Peach would otherwise remain silent at his playful inquiry, and the old toad would nod sagely to himself at his daughter's reaction.

"I shall arrange something special for him. As a thanking gesture," he would promise. "Is there something that you know he likes?"

Peach would fiddle absentmindedly with the handkerchief, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

"He... He likes spending time with me. He told me so himself, once," she would say, her voice taking on a dreamy quality.

Toadsworth would grin widely under his bushy mustache, his beady eyes twinkling with delight.

"Then it's settled! I shall prepare a nice retreat for you two to enjoy and send him the invitation myself. In the meantime, let's get you away from this dreadful mess and have another room temporarily accomodated for you. Would you like some tea?"

"Oh yes, please," she would respond, following his lead and walking with him down the royal corridor. ✨️🩷

[nivea-ah]

you should totally compile a list of all your fav tddk fics!! I’m always looking for recs!! 👀

(finally got the ask I was waiting for for ages yess)

I have so many tddk fic recs (that's what happens when you've been reading tddk since 2020) but I've compiled my favourites here!

you could be the one that I love

“Oh please. You know he likes you as more than just a friend. Why don’t you just tell him you feel the same?”

I can’t, because he’ll drop everything to come back when I ask him to, and I can’t be the one who ruins his dreams to fulfill my own selfish ones.

“I just can’t.”

[In which twenty-seven year old pro-hero Shouto yearns for years thousands of miles away from Izuku and writes him letters filled with wishes and confessions he never intends to share.]

....

It's a post canon fic and it's SO SO GOOD. I had so many feels reading this it's so wonderful and so good and so cute UGH. please read it makes you very happy.

....

nine centuries and counting

When Izuku is happy, he makes flowers bloom.

....

okay SO. I haven't reread this fic in ages but I remember it feeling SO GOOD and I think that's a feeling everyone should experience at least once. It's a goblin au (the kdrama) and the fic makes me want to watch it

....

Coffee and Red Bull

Todoroki Shouto didn’t like people watching, but some people were too interesting to be ignored.

....

so funny and so cute. It's only 2k words so it's very good for a quick read. Izuku overworks and shouto finds that concerning and a little adorable.

....

the fire escape

Shouto Todoroki is in love with a superhero.

He doesn’t understand how this superhero came to exist; all he knows is that there was no news one day, and then blown up headlines the next. They talked about a bus full of people saved by a masked person who used his incredible strength to keep the vehicle from falling off the side of a bridge when the brakes stopped working. Other, smaller stories popped up from those who recognized him--or at least, the green and white mask he wore.

....

SPIDERMAN AU.

that's it. what more should I say. it's so good. there's that iconic upside down kissing too so I think it's a wonderful deal.

....

red delicious

Izuku might have a problem. Okay, so maybe that was a bit of an understatement. He definitely has more than just a problem because Todoroki Shouto should not look this good eating a god damn apple.

....

this fic is just them making out and personally I love that sooo

it's actually very cute you should read it mwah

....

Who is he to say no?

Izuku looked up and saw a dark look pass through the other's face, Izuku did not notice before but the other's eyes were red and now they were glowing as they were two little moons, obsessed and transfixed on the blood that had seeped out of his mouth.

“Oh.” Izuku said, frozen still.

Or Where a sick human falls in love with a timeless being and lives longer than he ever expected to.

....

This, too, I read long ago BUT I FELT GOOD AFTER I READ IT SO ITS GOOD I FEEL. it's vampire todoroki and I really like that so

....

Moonlight Sonata

There was something vulnerable in Todoroki's expression, in the parting of his lips and the way he tilted his face upwards, unguarded for once. Izuku would compare him to a painting were it not for the fact that not even the most skilled artist in the world would be able to match such beauty or capture such emotion as the one evoked by the sight of Todoroki playing the piano.

....

guys,,, this fic is so good. it's actual literature. It's set in some regency au where shouto is izuku's master in some sorts BUT DONT WORRY NO POWER DYNAMICS. please read it it's very good

....

I have LOTS more left to recommend but I thought I'll recommend some of the ones I haven't seen recommended a lot? If you want more, just ask, I love spreading my tddk agenda >:)

[boonsandwhatever]

Doing a relisten to the Protocol episodes that are out cuz fell behind for a while and stumbled upon your Needles design.

I love him. I mean, I enjoy a creature-man as much as the next person, but your little Twink of a guy reminds me of a post saw that said something like: "needles wouldn't be obviously needle-ly. from far away he'd just look a bit sparkly, from a bit closer (maybe conversation distance) it'd look like he was covered in glitter, and it's only when it's *far* too late do you realized the truth"

also I like that he's just a tiny bit punk in your design; as I've seen others really dive into the idea and produce cool things, but it's nice to see what kind of character design you can do with minimal concepts/character traits (if that makes sense).

I was thinking that his "Avatar" backstory would be something approximate to: got super into punk fashion, to start he got strange leather jacket to stud at some thrift/antique store for cheap, starts studding, kept studding, kept studding with smaller and smaller studs as he runs out of room/moves to different panels (eventually pulling from his sewing pin stash), kept studding and realizes that he's accidentally studded/ stabbed his hand clean through with a pin,

then *keeps going*

[wow this got way longer than intended 👀

TLDR ig Lovely stuff, got a new follower, keep doing you 💕]

I love the mental image of

[iobartach]

okay! this has been a LONG time coming, so brace yourselves for this... we're gonna talk about that injection scene from ats.v so comic purists especially please don't hunt down my ass for what i'm about to put out into the universe 😂

....so ..... let's talk about ... atsv's injection scene ;

what was intended by it? fuck knows, waiting for sony to send answers on a postcard. buuuut, for my take, let me be clear on the interpretations / meanings that i'm not gonna perpetuate ;

it's not rapture. i'm drawing a HARD STOP under that thought. noooo thankkk you.

it's not the source of his spider powers. we're staying true to our Cronenberg-inspired metamorphosis horrific-ness here 😎 even if more... recent reinventions of miguel shown in the comics would tell you he willingly opted to make himself half-spider, i ain't subscribing to it. (miguel's perspective on his transformation probs deserves its own hc post eventually! stay tuned!

so... if not this... what then? well...

i'm gonna posit that the injection(s) are a way for miguel to manage his 'condition'

for that, lemme do a little recap / reminder;

following his accident, miguel has experienced a multitude of changes. one of the most prominent changes is that he's become an obligate carnivore / hypercarnivore if you will. which means, meat is his new bff - he'll crave the calories, he'll eat it cooked or even raw, especially if it placates his tendency to gnaw when starving. and when he does eat, he tears and swallows chunks - not really a chewer any longer.

whiiiich introduces a new issue; anything plant based? loses its appeal to him. it's a slow progression, too. he'd start with reducing portions. taking a bite or two. leaving the rest. until there's next to no greenery left on the plate, when he knows he needs the nutrients they provide.

and ooh, it's actually gets a level worse than that : )

not only does he stop eating vegetables, fruits, *maybe* fungai? idk? but wellll his own mutated body might even stop producing the important stuff like vitamin c, and things of that ilk ! so ... what's a hybrid to do? how's he gonna make up the difference and get the nutrients he needs? ( especially when you consider... whilst he doesn't eat often, due to a combination of altered metabolism and slowed digestion rate, he could eat and consume calories in the magnitude that could make a damn saiyan blush --)

but, even so, it won't make up for the deficiencies 😔 so what's a spooky spider lad to do?

Come up with a solution, duh!

Yesss, baby, we're talking supplementation! operating in a similar manner to a diabetic needing insulin, or someone with B12 deficiency, for the all important food stuffs that miguel has perhaps tried, and tried again to consume, he's gonna turn to science for a lending hand, load up on what's either missing from his diet now, or that which his body simply can't absorb any longer

And, in addition to this, these shots are important in another sense 👀

they help miguel to manage his spider tendencies

since the way i've approached this with my earlier hcs is, well, tl;dr my mig's human / spider dna isn't a 50/50 split, it's gradually veering more towards spider as the years pass

this means that, it's a bit of a perfect storm brewing; lack of nutrients + behaviours & tendencies that he is likely chronicling by the day is ... a recipe for trouble! i can bet that miguel by himself can ... manage / hold himself together ... to a point, but, to paraphrase a friendo; have you ever met a hangry person? there's a limit to everything!

and we've seen miguel breach that limit already, during the miles chase in atsv. if ya had a bingo card for just about the worst everything happening in a single day? that card probably got filled UP during that chase! 😔 perhaps stress also played as factor there was well - the dude's carrying a LOT on his shoulders!

anyyyway! back on topic! let's expand the supplementation too - let's also throw in some sort of hormones? i know this is a whole science in itself, and ain't scientist 🥹 so i'll leave this a bit more broad, and say that they also play a part in stabilising miguel, ground him, so he won't go chasing a kid across the city... .ahem 😔

leading on from this, though, i wanna add some last things here. i know, i'm... meandering here , but lemme say;

take note of the intensity of miguel's eye colouration!

r e d - sorry, but you're shocked, buddy, best of luck surviving 💀

scarlet / bright red - feeling aggro, but holding enough of himself together to not act on his impulses

garnet - the default, feeling spidery, but also feeling human as close to a harmonious state as he can manage for the most part

dark brown - the goal!👀this is potentially a state that achieved after he injects himself. it floods him with a calm like nothing else he's ever felt. it's when he feels the most human again, a memory that's easily forgotten when you've got fangs and shoot webs from the back of your hands!!!

and it's with this last point, with the brown eyes, that i wanna bring this home with the little ritual miguel develops; after takin an injection, he'll make a point of brewing the strongest cup of black coffee that he can manage. a rare treat these days for him... especially given that caffeine does not agree with spiders. 💀

so yeah!!! thanks for reading through this ! 👋

[ahundredtimesover]

Which lesser known fic?👀

Hold Me Close! 🫣 I reread it and missed simp JK so I did a bit of editing (which is why it’s unavailable right now!) and wrote a follow up. Which got way longer than I intended 😂

Had this jk in mind.

[fishnamedsushi]

Hi friends! Just wanted to pop back in and say hello! I’ve been taking some time away from this site and SM in general to work on some personal projects.

But as per usual…a few weeks ago I got this idea for a fic that would let leave me alone, and so here we are. WIP for now - stay tuned (and have a snippet 👀👀)

[Smuggler Alpha Anakin / Gambler Runaway Omega Obi-Wan, AU]

Anakin's fingers bit into his palms hard enough to bruise. He could too easily picture the kind of preening, privileged alpha who would look at Obi-Wan and see only a vessel for their own pleasure. Who would sneer at any perceived imperfection, no matter how undeserved...

"Kark that." The words came out harsher than he'd intended. "You think a kriffing bite mark makes you damaged?"

Obi-Wan looked away, shoulders hunching. "You don't understand. In my world... appearances are everything. Any hint of scandal, any blemish on the family name..." He shook his head. "Well. Let's just say the Kenobis have standards to uphold."

And that... that stung more than it should have. The implication that a Kenobi would never deign to mate a gutter rat like Anakin, no matter the circumstances.

Anakin shoved down the hurt, let it transmute into anger instead. Safer that way. "Right. Can't sully the family 'fresher seats by fraternizing with the rabble. What would the neighbors say?"

Obi-Wan's eyes flashed. "That's not what I-"

"Save it." Anakin pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the protestations of sore muscles. Suddenly he couldn't bear to be horizontal a moment longer. "I don't need the 'it's not you, it's my trust fund' speech. You're not the first rich boy I've disappointed."

[starryo]

OH MY GODDDD YOUR WHITE MASK AU AAAAAAAAAA

YOUR WHITE MASK DESIGN IS MAKING ME INSANEEEEEEE AAAAAAAAAAA

HE!!!!!! HIM!!!!! Joker is soooooo ominous and insane looking in his white mask outfit and mask and omg I loveeeee his mask it’s sooo fitting especially for a wild card with so many masks, for him to be represented by a half crying half laughing theatre mask like that and his hair!!!!

Does his hair change when he enters the metaverse?? Does he still have arséne/does he carry his personas into the new run? If not, does he reawaken arséne as his first persona again? Or does he awaken to a different persona when he gets metaverse access? He’s still a wild card but I’m soooo curious about his awakened persona especially considering his new ‘fit like damnnn.

ALSO can he change his metaverse outfit like og!Akechi? Does he have an opinion on his outfit (hate it, like it, finds it creepy or weird to adjust to or anything)? (Did I mention I ADOREEEE your white mask design for him bc hoooollyyyyyy hellll do I adore it with every single fiber of my being wow-

How does Shido find out about him if he doesn’t approach him (or does he approach Shido as a keep your enemies closer kind of thing)?

I cannot IMAGINE how the white mask reveal would go like omg, does he also have a little mini insane breakdown in front of them or is he still chill during it, you said the engine scene and interrogation room bit would go very differently but AAAAA HOWWWW PLSSSS SHAREEEE😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

And don’t even get me STARTED on how much I absolutely adore Akechi’s design here, his little earring, his everything omggg, I really wanna know how far he got beating up Shido lmaoo

Did Akechi still get tossed around foster homes growing up? Did he lean into his “unwanted child” thing instead of crafting his likeable “perfect” personality/facade (considering he look a little delinquent-y in the art I saw)? If so, what makes the change there? Does his mother die differently or does he just not know about Shido maybe, causing him to not create the same facade because he no longer has a clear revenge goal? Idk but I’m soo curious what got him looking and acting so different (assuming his facade isn’t actually the same and it’s just the appearance that changed).

Does Joker have a likeable “detective prince” persona (pun not intended) now instead since he took the detective spot, or is he less public/handles it differently? If he does then does he have the same cult following of fangirls lol

What school does Joker go to in this AU?? Does he go to the same (unnamed) school Akechi went to last time? Does he still go to Shujin (unlikely I’d assume)? Does he maybe go to Kosei since it’s a school for prodigies n stuff so it would be willing to work around his whole detective prince shtick? Plus Kosei means getting to talk to Yusuke without Shido finding out

Also you said that the Yoshizawas and Niijimas could be explained to Shido as useful connections, how are the Yoshizawas useful connections? Their family? Also does he get to meet Haru pre-canon because of the same logic?

Does he have a better relationship with Sae than Akechi? Maybe being able to help with her distortion before the canon timeline even starts? I’d imagine Makoto doesn’t despise him like she does Akechi (since I doubt he’d be anywhere near as passive aggressive and awful lmao) so are they friends or does Makoto still have a bit of jealousy for someone her age being so much closer to her sister than her (or both??👀 she can multitask)?

And also does Akechi have a different outfit than canon too then?? Does he have a different persona? Or just Robin Hood? You said he takes Jokers place in the unjust game so I’d assume he gets to recruit and fuse persona but does that mean that Joker can’t??? Or can he recruit persona but just not fuse them? OR can he do both bc of some NG+ shenanigans or him having more time in the metaverse (in this loop and others) meaning that he manages to get some kind of higher powers than canon? Like maybe he can talk shadows into fusing or can enter/exit the metaverse without the Nav or change/use cognition to do things he never thought of doing before (Monabus style but minus the Mona).

Does he have a persona that helps him cause shutdowns/mental breaks or does he just talk the shadows to the mental ledge or sth? I could see him talking shadows into mental breaks or shutdowns to match his whole talking to recruit shadows ability and will he still have a place or title as a/the trickster? Especially if Lavenza and people refers to him as the trickster to Akechi or something. Also does he have Satanael? Or is this one of those AUs where he never awakens Satanael even in the OG run? Also does he reset runs because the year is up, because they disappear bc of the grail, bc they die in the Yaldy battle, or something else? And does *he* know why he resets or is he stressed out of his mind?

Does he try to stay away from the other PTs even once canon starts (bc Shido)? Is Akechi less smarmy and awful lol? I am dyingggg to know more about this AU (DID I MENTION I WOULD KILL FOR YOUR WHITE MASK OUTFIT OMGGGG ITS SO GOOD) and I am soooo sorry for the super long ask I didn’t even realize how long it had gotten I just am insane from this AU sorry T.T

hello!!! sorry for replying so late! oh my god i first opened your ask when i was in a discord voice called and was floored by your enthusiasm!!! i mean that in such a positive way thank you so much for loving my little au! im going to try my best to answer all your questions <3 this is going to be another long text post haha

since lavenza is the only other character that is also carried over from the previous run of the game, joker actually has access to the full persona compendium he collected. i will say that in the new run, the phantom thieves don’t see him use arsene due to reasons :) he also does receive a new persona! dont ask who yet though i haven’t finalized it. his hair changes with his outfit, meaning he still has access to his original joker outfit and can switch between them like how original akechi can switch between his. as for his opinion on it… he has pretty complicated feelings over it. he does appreciate the aesthetic of it and without hiscircumstances he would probably enjoy it even if it’s not his usual style. i think the best way to describe his opinion of it now is that he’s numb to it, and he also finds it quite comedic when you consider the what it symbolizes. (and thank you so much 🥺 i love character design so much and he is my baby)

like og!akechi, he does approach shido first, more because he felt like he had no other choice. he tries to justify it in his mind that taking this initiative is the most reliable way to guarantee the future going how he wants them to go.

he doesn’t really get his full breakdown until his palace! so he stays pretty composed when he is confronted in the engine room up until this point he hasn’t revealed his hand as the true culprit yet, so it’s pretty shocking to all of the thieves (except goro) and they feel a lot more conflicted as a result.

akechi kind of lives up to his delinquent appearance and rumor in this au yeah haha! he unfortunately wasnt able to get too far beating shido up, which makes him all the more frustrated and angry. he was tossed around foster homes growing up yes, and it was mostly after his criminal record that he fully leaned into the “unwanted child”. i guess part of him still kind of hoped that things would work out somehow for him even if he barely scrapes by. he still taps into that good kid facade sometimes if its more beneficial! aside from that, nothing has changed from canon regarding his backstory. his mom still died the same way and he knows who shido is, he just didnt get his powers like in canon which meant he didnt have any power to back any plans for actually exacting revenge even if he wanted to.

detective prince akira kurusu is very likeable and popular with the fans! he leans into the theatrics of it a lot more, but he also finds it so much more exhausting and often wonders how og!akechi was able to manage. he doesnt put as much of an emphasis on his popularity as og!akechi and more on increasing his authority as a detective, but he does consider both to be vital to his goal of crafting the perfect outcome. he goes to the same unnamed school as akechi (i’m trying to figure out a good name for it rn) and im deciding whether or not i might have him transfer to shujin in the second semester.

yoshizawas’ dad is the director of a really popular news channel! since both the niijimas and the yoshizawas arent direct associates with shido, akira can use the excuse that he’s maintaining good relationships so that he gets some influence. with haru and okumura he doesn’t really have that excuse, since okumura is already directly collaborating with shido. he has met haru in passing a few times though, and he wishes he could reach out more without both shido and okumura raising an eyebrow.

i think the best way to describe the difference between akira and og!akechi in terms of their bonds is that og!akechi didn’t have any true bonds aside from joker during his run, while akira is forging many bonds that are founded on deception. so while he technically has a better relationship with sae and many others than og!akechi did, akira questions a lot if they truly count when he’s only ever giving them what they want to see and none of the truth. to him they’ve started to feel even more transactional, and it doesn’t help that he sometimes questions if he’s attached to the present or the past more. i hope this explanation makes sense lmao, his experiences and thoughts are pretty contradictory at times so sometimes they dont make sense when i try to explain his logic.

i will say that he neither encourages or discourages sae’s distortion though, but he will help mitigate the consequences and advise her at times when she does ask for input. he’s definitely not as passive aggressive, and they’re at a weird stage where they’re not quite friends yet (mostly because yes makoto is still a little jealous and she is very awkward/guarded around him and a bit proud i guess? akira is patiently waiting for her to make the first move while giving her opportunities)

akechi has both robin hood and loki! he does have a different outfit that is a bit of a fusion between his two original ones (i havent finalized the designs yet). both of them are able to access the velvet room and can fuse personas, though joker doesnt really have the need to since he already completed his compendium.

his new persona does give him some new abilities that help with his new role yes, and yes he does do something similar to talking shadows into mental breakdowns. he is still referred to as a trickster by the velvet room residents when spoken to directly, but when they speak to akechi about akira they refer to him as “player”.

he did successfully awaken to satanael in the previous run. i’ll keep the details of why and when he resetted a secret for now hehe, cant give away the entire mystery!!

once he gets the excuse to hang out with the phantom thieves he 100% uses it to his advantage. it’s a sensitive balancing game, because he knows that shido will one day notice either way. one can even argue that he is being too reckless but unlike og!akechi, akira gets the advantage of knowing a lot more information.

as for akechi… he’s kind of a bitch haha like i would say he’s a bit like third semester og!akechi but less unhinged in the metaverse. definitely still very bloodthirsty with the shadows though just a bit less loud about it. he’s very blunt and direct with the phantom thieves, and likes to use sarcasm or mockery sometimes (the phantom thieves quickly learn that this is his weird love language). he’s definitely a lot more honest in his mannerisms in this au, so much that when he does turn on his pleasant boy charm, everyone else starts getting chills and feel super unsettled.

thank you again so much for all your questions!!! i hope i was able to answer all of them okay 💖 im so happy to hear you like my au so much! i hope i can draw them more often 🥺