#Gem was so small compared to the other two man

[fitzs-space]

Got the three genders out here frfr

this was just an excuse to draw characters in hoodies and throw them in a colour void. Individuals below the cut

[sylus-doll]

Synopsis: It's normal to feel insecure every once in a while. But what would Sylus think of it? You wonder if he'll think that you're too much but you still ask to look through his phone anyway. And he willingly lets you.

Warnings: Low self-esteem and self-doubt, insecurity, jealousy issues (thinking he has other girls), bad relationships (not with Sylus), mentions of stalking (done by Sylus to you), mentions of threat messages.

Author's note: Is this controversial. Idk. I think I'm overbearing, so this is self-indulgent but I hope that it helps if you can relate to it as well. This is based on one of his Destiny Café and affinity level up lines. Comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

You had always been a little insecure of yourself. Comparing yourself to others, envying the life they have, wishing to be a different person entirely. All of this had been ingrained into you like heated iron scorching skin, branding itself onto the fragile fabric of your soul. It would be alright, if it didn't consume your being and take the reigns of your mind at the worst of times.

Previous partners always brushed you off when you wanted to speak to them about your troubles. Telling you that it was fine— that they could handle it. Lies. Maybe they would indulge you once or twice, but they would always end up angry at you for being... difficult. Your jealousy is out of control, your clinginess is overbearing, your need for reassurance is exhausting. Always too much, too high maintenance. It all ends sour.

But you can't help it. The need to satiate this overwhelming emotion withers you away. Your desperate want for someone to claim you as their number one— the only one—overrides rationality. Yet you have learned to bite your tongue. Force your words to die in your throat because you never want to be too much. Especially not for someone like Sylus. Sylus who has always been so understanding and patient and you are terrified that this might tip him over the edge.

Sylus, however, notices that you seem rather lost in thought. Although he has been on his phone for quite some time, nothing gets past him. Not your jittery behaviour or the sighs that escape past your lips as if they were the words you wished to convey but held back on. He sees you fiddling with a trinket, some gemstone he left lying around the base that Mephisto probably went for. Switching off his phone, he sets it aside in favour of staring intently at you, two fingers resting on his temple as he leans on his elbow.

“You seem quite fascinated with that pretty gem, sweetie. Has Mephisto influenced you with a crow's instinct?” Sylus teases you, an opening line for conversation.

You jerk, scowling at the man, “Don't compare me to that bird!”

He only chuckles, shaking his head.

“What's on your mind, sweetie?” The tone of his voice shifts, now noticeably softer. So are his eyes.

Sylus is worried about you, it seems. You glance at him, taking in the way he keeps his eyes only on you. Then briefly direct your gaze towards that damn phone of his before looking into his eyes. Vicious scarlet turned lovesick velvet; it engulfs you in safety. Your lip quivers, and you bite down to stop it from doing so. What would Sylus say if you asked to look through his phone? How irritated or annoyed would he be? But his eyes are so warm, and you crave the gentle adoration it drowns you in.

“Can I... look through your phone?” You ask hesitantly, breaking eye contact first.

Well. That was the last thing he expected you'd ask him. He stares at you a little dumbfounded, only briefly, before regaining his composure. He expected a favor, something grand or perhaps requested the impossible from him. Of all things Sylus owns, and you ask for his mobile device. With a quirk of his brow and small tug at his lips, he gestures for you to come closer. When you do, he sits you across his lap, pulling his phone from the coffee table with his evol and drops it off in your hands.

“Go ahead, sweetie. I have nothing to hide from you, only the authorities.”

Sylus is patient when you begin your... search. Throughout all the apps he has; social media, websites, albums, contacts. You find that most of it contains you and N109 business. Pictures of you that you don't recall him taking, candid ones looking away from the camera. Auction sites where he's betting on antique weapons and vintage wine. Messages to Luke and Kieran regarding missions, and sometimes about keeping an eye on you. Ominous ones from others that come in the form of—

“What do the codes mean?” The question tumbles out of you before you fully think it through. Damn you.

His hand envelops yours, scrolling through the messages with his thumb.

“This one, is a location. Some sort of trap, most likely. The one you looked at earlier was a threat. And as for this...” Sylus explains every single one, not even hesitating.

Once you're satisfied, you give him back his phone. There was nothing. No other girl, no secret lover, not a single piece of incriminating evidence. Shame and guilt immediately take root within you. Sylus is not that kind of person, you should have known that. Should have trusted him more and let it be. Why were you like this? Apologize. It's what you need to do now because maybe he thought you were doubting him.

“I'm sorry—” he cuts you off.

“No. You have nothing to apologize for. Didn't I tell you that you have access to all my resources? Including, but not limited to, my phone. You can take a mile if I give you an inch.”

He brings your hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle. Even the tips of your fingers, and a final one on the inside of your palm.

“Next time, you don't need to ask. Just snatch it away from me if you think I'm giving it too much attention. I'll drop anything to show you how much I adore you.” He looks at you, gaze unwavering.

You will never be too much for Sylus. Everything that you have to offer, he will devour like a dog starved. He has been deprived of the intensity of your affections for far too long to be picky. If your love is tender, he will soften himself from metal to clay and be molded by your hands as best he can. And if your love is untamed ferocity he will embrace you with open arms, ready to be ripped apart. It will be alright— Sylus will stitch himself back together if that was what you needed him to do. That is what he will do to love you.

[froggiewrites]

Into the Dragon's Den

Pairing: Dragon!Ace x Reader

NSFW

Summary: This job is going to change your life. With the treasure from the dragon’s hoard, you’ll never have to work again, you’re sure of it. But when he catches you in the act, you find you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. Everything in this room is his, and he insists that includes you. But really, would it be so bad to play your part? Warnings: AFAB!Reader (no pronouns or gendered language used), Smut, Size Kink, Objectification (Reader treated as a treasure), Oral Sex (Reader receiving), Praise Kink, Biting/Marking, Tail Sex, Overstimulation, Possessiveness, Vaginal Sex Word Count: 3k Halloween Special 2024

It’s impossibly warm within the dragon’s lair. Your clothes are soaked through with sweat, sticking to you with every step, but still you press on. Your current discomfort is nothing compared to the bliss that’s going to follow, once you get this gold.

You had no idea how large his hoard was, when you first came here. You knew that even a small hoard would pay for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life, but the amount of gold, jewels, and priceless artifacts in this cave could feed an entire kingdom for a century, at least. You can’t pocket it all, of course, but if you choose wisely you’ll be able to live like royalty once you find the right buyer for it all. You’ll never have to work a day again in your life, safe and protected and cozy in a little piece of land just for yourself. You can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face from the thought.

The dragon is nowhere to be seen, hopefully out hunting or something else that will take it a while. You’re no dragon slayer, and you don’t care to be. You don’t want to kill such a magnificent creature, simply relieve it of some loose change and trinkets. Nothing it will miss. You didn’t even bring anything to defend yourself other than a tiny dagger, one that couldn’t pierce a dragon’s hide even wielded by the greatest warrior. You’re a would-be thief, nothing else.

Your eyes drag over the room you stand in, clearly burrowed out by massive claws and set with a fire that would leave nothing but ash were it set upon you. The floor is a beautiful volcanic glass, which you would love to chip away and take with you, but while your dagger would certainly be able to take off a piece or two, it would also shatter immediately on impact. You instead settle for a large pile of gold jewelry. You can see dozens of precious gems peeking out, sapphires and rubies and diamonds catching the dim light so beautifully you’re drawn closer like a moth to a flame. You spot a particularly beautiful necklace, with an orange gemstone that looks like fire itself inlaid in the center, and you can’t help but reach out for it. It’s only once your fingers have wrapped around it that you hear the rumbling voice behind you.

“Are you sure you should be touching that?” The voice is deep, rumbling, but there’s a hint of joviality to it, laughing like there’s a joke here, and you’re the punchline. You whip around to see it, or him, towering above you. You expected some horrible beast, a lizard spanning the length of the room, but standing before you is almost a man. He’s frighteningly tall, at least double your height, and his biceps and pectorals are larger than your head. His hands, which are reaching toward you, are tipped in black claws that could easily rip you to shreds. He’s hardly clothed, just a simple pair of shorts that leave nothing to the imagination, and most of his exposed skin is covered in beautiful, glistening red scales. His cheeks are dotted with both freckles and smaller scales, and his eyes are piercing, his pupils slits that you can see grow wider as he looks at you. His grin is filled with razor sharp teeth that you can imagine ripping into your throat. On either side of his head are curling horns reaching for the sky. You’d call him beautiful, were you not so terrified. There is a large tail behind him, whipping back and forth with an audible swish. You feel like a mouse caught beneath the claws of a cat, waiting to be toyed with before being ripped to shreds.

One hand wraps around your waist, while the other plucks the necklace easily from your grasp. He holds it up to the light as he pulls you closer, allowing the gem to sparkle and shine. He hums, which is more of a rumble, before holding it up to your neck. His eyes seem to strip you bare as they rake over you. His grin grows wider. “It suits you. Would you like to wear it, little one?”

You stare, mouth agape, and he laughs again, showing off every one of his teeth. You force yourself to answer. “I–I couldn’t possibly.”

His eyes narrow slightly, and you feel as though you’ve failed some kind of test. “You could. I wouldn’t have offered if you couldn’t. It’s a lovely piece.” With the way he’s staring, you can’t help but feel he isn’t talking about the necklace.

You don’t know what role you’re playing here, but you know he’s massive and gorgeous and terrifying, so you try to fulfill it anyway. “Then I suppose I would.”

He grins, pulling you close until you’re pressed against him and releasing you, delicately clasping the necklace around your neck. It’s thick and heavy, feeling almost like a collar. His claw traces gently along where it falls on your neck, leaning down to admire the shine of gold against your skin. “Lovely,” he murmurs, and you can feel his hot breath against your face, smelling of smoke and burning oak. He leans closer, his tongue, which is far longer than a regular man’s, tracing along the path his fingers took. You shiver, and you can feel him grin against your skin before nipping right at your sweet spot. 

You yelp. “Wh–what are you doing?”

His voice is low when he whispers in your ear. “I’m enjoying what’s mine.”

“What?”

“Everything in this room is one of my treasures.” His nips at you again, before his lips brush gently against the spot to soothe the marks he surely left. “And such a lovely one just snuck in to make their place here. How lucky am I?” Another nip, another kiss, then a gentle suckle against your skin. You whine at the sensation, heat flooding you, and he laughs again.

“I’m–I’m not–ah!” His hand inserts itself between your thighs, making you instinctively clench them around it as he presses into you through your pants. He slowly drags up, watching as you whimper and whine under his heated attention.

“Not what? Mine? Or a treasure?” He chuckles, and you feel the sound echo through his chest as it presses against yours. “You’re both, sweet thing. Unless you care to explain why else you’d be here?” His tone is still hot and seductive, but the words carry a challenge. His teeth are still against your throat, and for the first and only time his bite is enough to draw blood. He quickly licks it away, soothing it with his long, forked tongue, but the message is clear.

You whimper, the sound coming from deep within you, though whether it comes from fear or arousal you don’t quite know. You open your mouth to confess, to submit yourself to him, to say anything at all, but you’re met with that same tongue entering your throat. The kiss is horribly sloppy, wet and wild and wanting, as his hands slowly start to move. One keeps pressing against your clit through your pants, tortuously slow, while the other reaches for your chest. You expect to feel him paw at you, but instead you feel a slight sharpness from his claw down the front of your shirt, cutting it and your bra in two. They don’t fall off immediately, stuck to you with sweat, and he makes a discontented grunt before peeling them off of you. You involuntarily squeak at the sensation, and start to pull back, but something scaled and rough wraps around your waist keeping you still. 

His tail holds you firmly, tight enough to keep you from squirming but not tightly enough to bruise. The sensation of his scales scraping against the bottom of your breasts is interesting, and you can’t tell if it’s discomfort or pleasure that makes you shiver. He seems to enjoy it either way. The tip of it starts to make its way down, slipping below the waistband of your pants and pressing lightly against your clit. You gasp against him, and he grins against your lips.

You finally get a moment to breathe as he pulls back to admire your upper half, the way your skin looks pressed against his snails, your exposed chest and the way it heaves as you try to catch your breath. His pupils start to overtake his irises the more he looks at you. “A wonderful addition to my collection,” he murmurs hotly, leaning in to nip at your tits. “The crowning jewel, really. I’ll have to find the perfect place for you. Somewhere you’ll catch the light just right.”

He leaves marks all over your torso, hickies and bites that you’re sure will stay for days. He turns his claws to your pants, finally removing his hand from between your thighs to drag a claw on the outsides of either pant leg and quickly ripping them off. His tail still lightly rubs against you as he peels off your panties and finally exposes you fully to the heated air around you. He finally leaves your chest alone, kissing down your stomach to meet his tail blocking his path further down. His tip leaves your clit, and you let out a pathetic noise that he absolutely delights in.

“Don’t worry, treasure. I’d never leave you wanting.” He looks up at you, scales catching the light, and gives you a smile you could almost be convinced was filled with genuine affection. But the hunger, the wanting, the possession still reflects in his eyes, betraying him for the animal he is. His tail leaves your midriff, and his hands find your thighs, spreading them easily. “You’re dripping, sweet thing. You really are perfect. Could you really blame me for wanting to keep you all to myself?”

You struggle to speak in your lust-infused haze, but you manage. “I–I’m not perfect.”

“Oh, but you are, treasure, even if you don’t know it. You’re going to love being mine, I promise. I take very good care of my things.”

You find yourself coming unraveled underneath his gaze, bare and vulnerable. The truth comes out of you almost like a compulsion. “I was trying to steal from you.”

He chuckles. “I know. You seem a bit greedy.” He easily lifts you, placing your thighs on his shoulders, his nose pressing into your core. “It’s alright. So am I.”

With that, he dives in, eating you out like a man starved. His tongue is much longer than a human’s, finding places within you that you didn’t even know were there to be found. He makes loud slurping sounds, ones that make you blush despite yourself. You’re suspended in the air, coming unraveled on his tongue, unable to muffle your cries as he buries himself into you. You clench your eyes shut, overwhelmed by the sensation. Your hands tangle in his hair tightly, pulling at every movement of his tongue, and he growls against you with every tug. 

He murmurs against you, “So sweet, darling thing.” HIs nose brushes against your clit, and you begin to fall, only to be caught by his tail, held midair, only supported by him. Every sensation you can feel is him, from his tongue to his tail to the warmth of the air in his lair, he is the only world you are allowed to know. His claws dig into the plush of your thighs as he continues his feast, showing his strength, his lethality, but never threatening to truly puncture. You wonder how many people have been ripped to shred by the hands holding you, how many have been consumed by the mouth that presses against you.

He continues to lap away at you as you cry out, muscles tensing as you build towards your climax. He’s unrelenting as he greedily tastes you, lost in your flavor, the feeling of your thighs clenching around his head, the softness of your skin underneath his tail. You manage to open your eyes just long enough to glance down at him and see there is not a single millimeter between him and you. As he feels you grow closer and closer, one of his hands reaches for your clit, gently rubbing against it, and you finally come unraveled around him. He doesn’t slow for a moment as you cry out and clench around him. Your orgasm ravages you just as he does, pleasure bursting through you. You expect him to pull away, to begin to prepare to enter you, but he doesn’t slow for a moment, letting out soft moans against your mound as he continues.

“W–What are you–”

He growls against you as you try to pull him back. “Mine.”

“Please, it–it’s too much!” You cry as he hits a particularly sensitive spot again.

When he hears your noises shift from pleasure to discomfort, he seems to find himself for a moment, finally pulling you off of him slightly. His chin is dripping with your juices, his cheeks shining from the wetness covering them. His eyes are completely blown out, and he looks almost lost as he pulls back. He only focuses again once he looks up at your face, and he seems to remember where he is. You maintain eye contact for a moment, as one of his hands comes up to lightly brush against the necklace you’re wearing. “A treasure, a feast, a beauty. You really are perfect.” His voice is filled with a quiet awe, enough that you allow yourself to ignore the heat of possession burning beneath the words. “And you’re all mine.”

Some part of you wants to deny it, but more of you is lost in the haze of it all, and you find yourself muttering, “Yes, yes, yours!”

“Yes, treasure, yes.” He kisses your thigh before he begins lowering you, holding you with his arms instead. Something scaly and hard begins to slither up your thigh, and you whine as you feel his tail dip against your entrance. “Just a bit more, sweet thing. To make sure you’re ready.”

“Please,” you mutter, for mercy, for more, for whatever he’ll give you.

“Of course.” His tail slowly enters you, stretching you easily after all of his attention earlier. He pushes and pushes, making you feel wonderfully full. His tail grows wider as it continues, threatening to tear you in two, but you manage to accommodate him anyway. “So good for me, treasure. Doing such a wonderful job. You were made for this. For me.”

You feel the alien sensation of his scales against your walls as he slowly pulls it out and pushes it back in, testing how far you can stretch, how much of his you can take. He murmurs soft praises with every inch you’re able to fit, about how perfect you are, about what a wonderful addition to his collection you’ll be, about what a prize you are. “You’ll stay with me forever, treasure. I have the perfect space for you in my bed, and the firelight will illuminate your beauty just right. You’ll wear all of the jewels you could ever desire. And you’ll feel pleasure like this every night.”

You cry when he pulls out of you, but you’re quickly silenced by the sensation of something far larger poking against your entrance. “Don’t tense up now, treasure. You’re doing so well. It’ll be alright.”

A strangled moan leaves you when he inserts himself, stretching you wider than any point of his tail did. Tears prick at your eyes, and your thighs tense, but you force yourself to take a breath and relax.

“Just like that. You can do it.” He slides and slides for what feels like forever, and you look down to see where he meets you. His cock is monstrous, and you clench around him when you see the bulge in your belly from your body trying to accommodate it. He moans. “Ah, just like that. Perfect. So perfect.”

He pulls you impossibly closer, kissing you with something resembling tenderness. Then, all at once, he pulls out and slams into you quickly, a single hand on your hips moving you up and down at a breakneck pace. You cry out, and he quickly silences you with another deep kiss, bouncing you on his cock like you were made for nothing more than this. His hips pound against you as his other hand reaches for your clit. His claw briefly presses against your skin, but mercifully you find his fingertip rubbing against you instead. You can hear nothing over the blood rushing in your ears and his heavy breaths as he continues to rut against you. His lips leave yours and you whine. He’s saying something, but you can’t make out the words. His tone is enough, wanting and desperate, for you to know he’s singing your praises again.

The heat of it all is quickly becoming too much, and you can see he’s losing himself as well, as his thrusts become even faster and his hand tightens around your hips. The fire moves through you without mercy, pleasure blinding you and taking your breath away as you come cum on his cock. He follows soon after, and you can feel warm spurts of cum fill you as he moans loudly against your ear. When he does, he falls backwards into the pile of treasure behind him, taking you with him. He doesn’t pull out for a moment as he pulls you close, tucking you into him and pressing your head into his chest. His heart is pounding, his skin is on fire, and his breaths are unsteady. He’s come fully and truly undone. 

You don’t know if it’s minutes or hours that you lay there before he pulls out. You feel horribly empty when he does, cum dripping out of you onto his thighs. He laughs when you whine.

“I hope you’re prepared, treasure. We have a wonderful time ahead of us.” His grin is all teeth, his pupils retracting back into slits, and you’re forced to remember once again there is nothing human about the thing sitting beneath you. “You’re going to love being mine.”

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

[bitchface24-7]

Hi, im truly sorry to bother you, I apologise. But I admire your work and I have drank all of it attentively these days to escape from reality, you are truly a gem <33333. Which I don't know how to express my gratitude for it. I have been struggling my entire life to see myself worthy of gaining or receiving love, I have been insecure about my body. And after I read your fic plus size girls x jayvik I swear I cried in admiration. I just want to know if you could write a fanfic with jayvik in love with a curvy tall girl (I'm 1.78cm, I know it's not much, but I have been feeling like absolute fucking garbage lately). I truly hope all your dream come true, your pets live longer and a fucking raise. I love you, mon cherie <333 0w0

HATERS GONNA HATE - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: your whole life you've held insecurities, as most women do. You've always been too tall, too “large”, too much. It's weighed you down for too damn long. Your two boys make you realize your beauty, the beauty you've always had. They just took the wool off of your eyes.

warnings: negative self talk, talk of insecurities, childhood bullying, comfort, compliments, fluff, suggestiveness, pre-established relationship, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f

p.s. You're so sweet omfg 🥺🥺 I love you too!! I hope this fic comforts any and all who need it. I'm not tall (160cm/5’3) but I am thicker/curvy/fat (whatever term you want to use) like I've cried in changerooms since I hated how something looked on me/how I looked. Its peaks and valleys of self-love; and if my stories make y'all feel beautiful, I've done my part. Its also cathartic to me as well.

You've always been the odd one out. You were taller than all your classmates, you went through puberty first and got breasts before all your peers, you filled out and got curves much sooner than expected. Some may call this a blessing, to you it's a curse.

Now as an adult, you're taller than most men around you. You have a curvy figure yes, but it's not like the surgical, edited versions seen magazines and billboards.

You have nice breasts, but they're not defying gravity levels of perky, you have a smaller waist compared to your hips and shoulders, but you have rolls when you sit and twist your body, you have long legs, but they're not sculpted to perfection. You're just a woman.

A woman who hates what she sees in the mirror sometimes.

You nitpick insecurities others wouldn't even see, especially the people who love and care about you.

Jayce and Viktor think you're a goddess amongst men. That you're perfect, both inside and out. They love everything about you.

They love that you’re close in height to them, so they're not bending over to love on you (especially Viktor with his bad back), Jayce is obsessed with your hips and waist, and Viktor would like to die suffocated between your breasts.

So when they see you at your vanity after waking up and nitpicking yourself, well… that just won't do.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Here you are, sitting at your vanity in a large t-shirt and undies, nitpicking away at yourself. Your hair is tossled from sleep, your eyes glittering as you look over yourself. Your hands drag across your face, into your hair, and over your body. Your mind repeating awful statements said about you over the years.

You're so engrossed in being mean to yourself, you don't see Viktor come up behind you and place your morning coffee onto your vanity.

“What’re you doing?” He asks his voice thick due to just waking up. His accent is heavy and heady. You feel your face heat up at his question, not expecting to be caught and the tone of his voice makes your heart flutter.

You freeze slightly, before looking at the handsome man in the mirror, “Just… looking at myself. Nothing to worry about.”

“In appreciation, I hope. Your furrowed brow and pout give you away my love. What’s on your mind?”

A sigh escapes your lungs as you grab your coffee and take a small sip, contemplating your words, “Am I— too much for you two?”

Viktor guffaws at that, his eyes wide when he looks at you, “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Y’know… too much. Too tall, too curvy, too chubby. Just— too much.”

“Who on earth put that ridiculous idea into your head?!”

A light incredulous laugh leaves you at the sight of an enraged Viktor. He looks like a mad cat.

“Society, classmates, magazines, and ads. I'm not… the picturesque standard of beauty.”

Viktor's lips narrow at your dejected tone, “You are the most beautiful women I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. You're personality is sparkling, and your physical beauty makes me question how a goddess like you could love a man like me.”

You whip around at that last statement, anger clear on your face, “A man like you? What do you mean.”

“A cripple. A poor man from the Undercity. A man who is weak, and ill, and not good enough for you.”

A snarl is what he gets in return for his statement, “Who told you that?! I’ll rip their tongue out for such disgusting comments! You’re wonderful Viktor, I wouldn’t change a damn thing about you!”

A knowing look is what you get and your anger immediately quells. Oh that sneaky, smart son of a bitch.

“So— now you know how Jayce and I feel about you. People, society in general are cruel. Our minds our biggest enemy. Jayce will agree with me.”

“Agree with you on what?” Said man asks as he enters the bedroom, a sleepy look on his face as he scratches his toned stomach and sips on his coffee, “What’s taking you two so long? We need to decide on breakfast and I’m getting hungry.”

You look away as Viktor cocks an eyebrow, “Our darling thinks she’s “too much” for us. She’s been ruthlessly nitpicking herself in the mirror.”

A loud gasp is all you hear before Jayce goes into a tangent, “Who told you that?! Give me their names and I’ll black list them from the council! What on earth are you talking about?! Too much? Too much! I’d say there’s not enough!”

“That’s cause you’re greedy sweetheart.”

“Shut up Viktor, my point still stands! You’re perfect babe. Ignore the haters, they hate because they’re miserable in their own lives and we all know the saying. Misery loves company.”

Jayce walks over to you and places his mug next to yours, his frame towering over you as he brackets your back and puts his hands on your thighs, “I’d die if you changed anything about yourself, your legs especially. Don’t take away my earmuffs. I’ll cry.”

You laugh as Viktor joins in and cups your breasts, you gasp at the feeling of his cold hands breaching underneath your shirt. “And don’t take my pillows away. I’ll be devastated and my sleep schedule will be shit again.”

The snort you let out is anything but lady-like, but they got their point across. They love you no matter what, even if they have favourite body parts of yours.

You smile at the two of them through the mirror and their eyes lock onto yours, before looking at each other; having a silent conversation.

“Y’know what… breakfast can wait. I’m hungry for something else.” Jayce states as he looks at you, his eyes big and pleading. His hands travelling up your thighs, over your undies, and he grips your exposed waist.

Viktor chuckles when he squeezes your breasts harshly and you gasp at the sensation, “I agree Jayce. What do you say my love, are you willing to indulge your two boys?”

You nod and before you know it, Jayce has tossed you onto the bed. Your coffee and breakfast completely forgotten as Jayce lowers himself in between your legs as Viktor sits behind you; his hands removing your top as he fondles your breasts and kisses your cheek and neck.

You’re their goddess, and they’ll worship you like one as well. They’ll continue to worship you until the end of time. Your devotees… How lucky you are.

Society sucks. Beauty standards suck. We’re all beautiful, expect we don’t see it. It’s time we pull the wool off of our eyes and see ourselves as we truly are. We’re perfect. No need to change anything. I hope y’all liked this, it made me feel quite a bit better. Love ya ❤️

[originalwinnerfanfish]

And here is the last part

Predaking - Oh, my fiery boy! I have so much to say about him…

He was probably the main reason I got into the Transformers fandom when I was a kid. My thoughts were like: It's a dragon! And a robot at the same time!? And he turns into a hot looking man!?! *mind blown*

Of course, over time I realized that behind the beautiful cover, he was a rather naive and very foolish character with a storyline too much like Dreadwing's. But despite all this, I still love him. Predaking is a real gem of the third season, and perhaps the coolest character in the entire series, and you can’t deny it!

In the WOF version, he is a resurrected dragon from the extinct skywing tribe. Being the largest dragons in this AU, their tribe was the most powerful on the continent until it completely died out due to a wave of cataclysms.

So, Predaking is a real giant compared to other characters. And, in the final addition, he is firescales! Because it’s BADASS!🔥

(and actually, because he gives me pretty strong Peril vibes)

Unfortunately I couldn't give him a bright color, so his firescales nature is shown through glowing areas on his body, creating the effect that he is literally burning from the inside. I also just noticed that his face looks very much like a skull, and I tried to pay attention to this in the design by giving him dark spots around the eye sockets and nostrils

Hardshell - I don’t wanna draw some random insecticon, so I chose this guy. Here I will be short. He’s appears in only two episodes and died almost immediately. He’s more of a plot tool than a real character

His stripes look cool, but drawing them wasn’t easy at all (I hate floating shapes). I wanted to make him look more like his beetle form, adding a big front horn and green plates on his neck. I also think that insecticons should be more different in coloring in this version

Skyquake - Same story - appeared in one episode - died in the same episode. Most of the fandom remembers him only as a zombie from the shadow dimension, and it's kind of sad. I believe he had potential. I always imagined Skyquake as the "brawn" in a duet with his brother, while Dreadwing was more of the "brain". And it would be great if we were shown this contrast, giving Skyquake a chance to prove himself in at least a couple of episodes

His design is, as expected, almost the same as his brother, but I still decided to add some small differences in details to make it more interesting

Vehicons - STEEEEEEVES!

I like these silly dudes)

I didn't want to make them actual clones or something, so here they're just regular nightwings and icewings, but they may look the same because of the iron masks that hide their faces. Like many other dragons, they are victims of a war they may not have wanted to participate in. Actually, in that case their deaths don’t seems so meaningless and even give the autobots actions a darker subtext (although I believe in the theory that they could simply pretend to be dead on the battlefield (I really want to believe in that))

I know there are still a few possible undrawn characters left, like Skylynx and Darksteel or Unicron, but that's probably enough for me. I'm happy with my closed gestalt)

[glassrowboat]

Neuvillette x Reader.

Summary: Pearls, like every organic substance, will show their age with time. Loose their shine, their luster, and the once bright white beads that hang from a lady's neck will turn a soft cream. Even precious gems have their limit on life, and it's that very fact that has worry chewing away at Neuvillette's being.

Author's note: Aka, the reader is an old lady in this one.

“Careful, my pearl.”

Neuvillette's hand took yours, hoping to aid you in climbing up the lush fields and a single hill you two were currently traipsing.

Each step had you relying on him a bit more, leaning into his hold until his arms were surely the only thing keeping you standing as your soft breathing turned ragged in in the crisp air of summertime. It only slowed, falling back into a gentle melody when the sting in your hip, aroused by the climb, had subsided.

Without the pain in the back of your mind, reminding you of its constant existence, you were able to gaze over the steep rolls of grass covered land and the nearby beach as the small accomplishment of achieving your goal of getting up there in the first place settled in.

The walls of the city were still in view, towering over the plateaus right outside the Court of Fontaine and casting a shadow that seemed to reach out in hopes of touching the tips of your shoes or even the red blanket already set out for you both to sit on with a muddied gray you would normally associate with a dreary day. The sun made sure of that as it shined brightly, bringing a charming blue with it along with leaving the thin wool blanket that had been basking under its rays warm to the touch.

Your palm met it as you settled down, muttering an “I know, I know,” all the while as the fabric warmed your skin.

Next to you two canes rattled against each other as Neuvillette set them down side by side; a crochet otter (your work) hung from one of them to mark it as his so he wouldn't accidentally pick up the wrong one before heading out the door and into the dawn of a new day each morning. It swayed lightly before falling to a stop.

“I'm not made of glass, dear." you reminded him.

“And I”- the blanket ruffled, sheet stirring and forming new wrinkles in its fabric as Neuvillette settled down next to you, boots resting in the grass to assure he won't get any dirt on the blanket- “of course, would forgo ever daring to imply you were.”

Creases were in the corners of Neuvillette's eyes and a soft smile on his face when he added, “but still, please do be vigilant.”

You didn't even have to think twice before you matched his expression. “As you say.”

You heard the waves rushing in, lapping at the shore as water laved at the shore, leaving bubbles of seafoam in the sand only to be washed away by another lap of the low tide. They were gentle, slowly coming in and back out to the ocean. You tore your eyes from to look up at Neuvillette only to discover he was already looking back at you.

“When did you prepare all of this, anyway?” You gestured around you, hand waving over the picnic basket you had spotted from the moment Neuvillette had first brought you the otherwise isolated spot. “I didn't think you would have the time to pull something like this off with how busy you have been now that you've been handling Lady Furina's duties on top of everything else.”

“While the work has been tedious, even I have days off. However, I would be dishonest if I told you Sedene didn't help with the preparations.”

A laugh quickly bubbled up and escaped you as you pictured her little legs running around with a quilt dragging behind her, basket in one hand as she marched forth with determination in her eyes to do something nice for the man the melusine's so lovingly called father and his dedicated wife. Perhaps she would even be singing a song in that accent of hers you so loved to hear; not like it could ever compare to your husband's own gentle voice as he said the words I love you.

“You two coddle me too much.”

“I am merely being diligent.”

You sighed, head falling to Neuvillette's shoulder. Your own white strands of hair, having long lost their original color with the ages you have lived, blended in with his. All except the blue horns glowing behind your backs, lighting you both up in a way the blue sky above could never hope to compare to with a gentle glow. “You took the vow in sickness and in health far too seriously.”

You could have sworn you heard Neuvillette say “as I should” when he started to ruffle through the basket, one hand outstretched to find exactly what he's looking for before pulling out a container full of sandwiches. The white, fluffy bread was stuffed full of chicken salad, almonds, and cranberries, just the way you had taught him to make them in the quiet moments trying to navigate around a kitchen made for one before sending him off to work with a packed lunch.

Those moments where the curtains were drawn open to welcome in the few streams of light before the sky had changed back from night time and brief kisses were shared as you leaned over a counter trying your best not to get distracted from the task at hand had always left you with butterflies fluttering in your stomach as he pressed one last peck to your cheek and the ring on your hand before leaving for the day. Now, he's making the same sandwiches for you and encouraging you to take a bite as you raise it up to your open mouth.

It didn't taste the same way you made it, but that hardly mattered when you had wind whipping through your hair and the taste of the sea breeze on your tongue all from his efforts to grant you both a nice day.

Swallowing down what you could, you asked, “is there an reason for this?”

“I simply thought it would be in our best interests to enjoy the day together while I had the chance. Before I'm handed something else to fill my schedule, that is.”

“And what a day it is.” You hummed as another wave rolled in.

His hand has been ruffling through the basket again, looking through its contents to pull out a bottle of water you could only assume was from some far-off spring that somehow tasted like a pure hearted blessing with hints of apples from the trees grown nearby stopped short before he pulled it back out.

“I cannot deny I…regret not being able to spend as much time with you as I would like. I suppose you could say this is me doing my best to settle my grievances with that fact.”

It didn't take you even a second to respond with: “Well, that's idiotic.”

Neuvillette blinked once, twice, and even thrice before schooling his visible shock and managing to ask you “excuse me?"

“Dear, you're busy. So what?" You shrugged. "I knew what I was getting into when I said yes to your proposal.”

“Well, it has been a good few years since you said yes."

“If you're trying to suggest my mind has changed over all this time, it hasn't. You're a workaholic who stays indoors all the time to do paperwork with that fancy pen of yours. That's been true even before we were wed, and I knew it well. To me, you're still the man I fell in love with.”

“That's not- I'm not sure how to articulate...” his voice fell off, growing quiet before Neuvillette slowly nodded. “I believe I understand.”

“Good.” Picking up one of the sandwiches you hadn't taken a bite of yet from the plastic tupperware, you raised it up to his lips. “So instead of lamenting over the fact you're not with me all the time, eat something. Please.”

Slowly Neuvillette's hand raised to take the sandwich from you, pinching it between his gloved fingers as he inspected it this way and that like he didn't know what it was before finally giving in and taking a bite.

“It's better to eat with company, anyway.” You said, urging him to eat with you as Neuvillette started chewing at the bite he toom.

The tide was still high, running along the shore by the time everything had been devoured, and the trash was stored back away in the basket to be dealt with at a later date. Even that one stray napkin you had tried to chase after to avoid littering only to have been gently pushed back down to sit on the blanket to continue resting before Neuvillette had gone to get it himself. Perhaps if it was a scarf, it would have been more romantic, but you still greeted him with a smile and called him your hero nonetheless when he came back.

His smile had been more than worth that entire ordeal as Neuvillette came back to stash it away before fixing the sweater hanging off your shoulders to be a bit more secure lest he have to run after another stray item.

The top most button was fixed together when his hands finally fell down to run along your arms.

“Are you warm?” Neuvillete asked. “I didn't think to ask Sedene to pack an extra blanket.”

“I'm perfect. Truly. No need to worry yourself silly.”

Neuvillette repeated your words, testing them before he shook his head with a chuckle. “Yes, I'm sure you are, but I want to get you back home lest we dedicate our whole day up to being here regardless. After all, were you not working on a new crochet project before we left?”

Admittedly, you were. It was laying half finished on your chair in the sunroom just waiting to be finished. You could even imagine the wadded up ball laying next to it, threatening to fall off the chair and create a big mess you would have to clean up.

“Looks like you won this one. Fine, we can get out of the cold and go home.”

“There we are.” He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before helping you up.

Soon, you both were folding the blanket together. Meeting corner to corner in an overly meticulous manner for something you were going to insist needed to be thrown in the wash the moment you both crossed the front door, but you said nothing as Neuvillette focused on it. Almost to a concerning degree, the same way he always made sure his ceremonial robes were perfectly ironed and the brooch adorning his jabot was straight before allowing himself to be seen in the public eye.

It was only when your back turned to face him to pick up the basket and both your canes did Neuvillette's slitted eyes spare a moment to gaze up and watch the few clouds he could see coming in before he wrenched them away and bringing them back to you.

You were already ready, basket held tightly in your grasp.

Neuvillette held his arm out to you. “Shall we, my pearl?”

Taking his arm you replied back with “we shall.”

The walk down the hill was easier than trying to stumble your way up it, and it was nicer to your hip, too, giving it a small shred of mercy. This way, you thought as the ground beneath your feet turned from green grass to a concrete sidewalk, you wouldn't have to lean on Neuvillette the entire way home through the streets decorated with flowers and civilians who stopped to stare at the both of you as you hobbled with each step past them.

Your keys clattered, chiming as they smacked against the charms you kept on your keyring as Neuvillette unlocked the door for you both before leading you in and to the living room sofa.

It was only when you were properly sat down again did he go back to place your canes by the front door. Your claims of being able to do it yourself were easily brushed off with a claim he could handle it just as well as you could.

“I…” Neuvillette tried to say as he walked back into the living room with you, shoes already off and no doubt nestled side by side right where he always left them after a long day at the Palais Mermonia. “I was hoping to talk to you about something, but I was unable to bring myself to mention it earlier.”

“I could tell.”

“Is that so?” His lips quirked down just as you spotted a growing wrinkle between his brows.

“You're still as obvious as ever. You never were good at hiding when something was on your mind.”

“Personally speaking, I like to think it's because you have the innate ability to read me.”

“Or our years together have given me a certain edge.”

A hum left Neuvillette, agreeing with you when he spotted the flowers in the vase beside your head, rainbow roses that had once been a brilliant series of pinks and yellows were now curling in on itself at the ends. He couldn't stop himself from plucking one from the vase to watch it whirr as he spun it softly to watch the withered ends of the petals fan out. A tornado of perfume and fading color laid in his hands.

How was it he didn't stop to notice them fading away until now?

“They'll need to be replaced.” You said, eyeing the stray petal that broke off and slowly floated down to the floor. With a single step, it would be crushed and reduced to nothing more than dust.

“No, let them stay a little longer.”

You didn't bother to protest, not even as you could see the slow crawl of clouds coming in and blocking out the sun you had been enjoying earlier that day. Not even as they turned dark.

“I'm sure you recall the time when the gentleman from Poisson, Mister Callas, was pulled in for trial, yes? I still don't fully understand why he refused, taking a duel instead despite knowing what the outcome would be. It was such a grueling affair,” he paused, “but do you ever wonder if he wished, in those last moments, he could have said goodbye to Miss Navia?”

“That's certainly a thought.”

Reaching up, you took the flower from him. He didn't protest either.

“Of course, there was the matter of Carole and Vautrin along with the events that occurred with the primordial sea. So many people all swept away with the tide. Surely, they had someone they were planning to go home to that very day. More goodbyes to say left unsaid. If I were in their shoes, I know I would regret not being able to do the same.”

“Is this about what was bothering you earlier?”

Neuvillette nodded. “It is indeed.”

Neuvillette's robes ruffled as he got down before you, one knee to the floor and one brushing against your leg. The fabric tickled you, but you were quickly distracted from the feeling as he pulled the rose from your grasp and placed it in your lap. Like this against the rich fabric of your skirt, it was made all the more obvious how this little flower that had exuded life had gone dull with the passage of time.

All my took was being snipped from the plant that had given it life. Then the days did the rest.

“My pearl, I have gone about this in a roundabout way, haven't I? You might have more of a point than I care to admit when you claim I don't know how to handle delicate topics with the same finesse I wish I could display.”

You smiled to yourself, musing over the fact that the only place he wasn't awkward was the courtroom.

“Well, it certainly doesn't help when you're talking as if you expect another prophecy to come down from the sky and sentence all Fontaians to death.” With a shrug, you added the word “again.”

“Then allow me to be direct: I asked myself if there was anything I would not regret doing with my life, and my answer was you. Not doing enough for you.”

Taking your hand, Neuvillette turned it over in his own, letting his fingers trace over the wrinkles you had accumulated over the years you had lived with him side by side. If he were to take his off…well, they would be the same as ever.

“My pearl, that day you fell down in the Opera Epiclese and couldn't get back up on your own had left me worried for days on end. The entire time you were bedridden, I was left hoping for all the moments I still wished to have with you to be possible.”

You squeezed his hand.

“And the thought came back to me after the last judgment of the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinal.” Neuvillette confessed. “Of never being able to see you again.”

“You make it sound like I'm planning to leave you.”

“No, it's not that, but in my five hundred years amongst you humans, I have learned no one truly plans to leave. It simply happens. One day, they're there, and the next, they're not.”

“Oh, Neuvi.” Your lips parted as you tried to find the right words to say, somehow finding everything you wanted to convey couldn't be properly articulated. All you could tell him was: “Then I regret all the desserts we didn't share, the picnics we missed, the nights in which you were too busy catching up on paperwork, but we don't have to let those be regrets, we can make up for it now. Just like today.”

“You say that, and yet neither of us know if we're promised tomorrow.”

Your hand left his to take Neuvillette's cheek in your hold to guide him down to you until your foreheads were barely kissing. The gesture flattened his bangs, making them cover his eyes for only a moment before you were brushing the strands out of your way. “Well I have no intention of leaving. I'll be there tomorrow and the day after that, and the day after that, again and again until you're left with no choice but to push my raggedy old bones in a wheelchair everywhere we go.”

“I would hardly mind.”

“In sickness and in health.” You rolled your eyes, trying not to openly laugh at the fact he was saying the same thing he did earlier to your jab about the vows you shared.

Your thumb circled his cheek, running along the bone hidden underneath to bring his attention back to you, and when it was you could see the room around you growing bright again as a few golden rays started to peak out from the clouds and shine through the curtain lined windows. Just like the sadness in his eyes, the gloom of an oncoming rain storm seemed to be fading away. Some may only consider Neuvillette as the stone faced Iudex, but to you he was still the man who was far too obvious for his own good, wearing his emotions not on his sleeve, but in the sky.

“Thank you for spending today with me.”

You circled his cheek again, careful not to smudge the blue tinted makeup under Neuvillette's eyes. “Of course. Ask again any day, and I would gladly climb that hill with you again and listen to you ruminate about water.”

“As would I.”

“No matter the weather.”

His head turned into your palm, meeting your touch. “Until death do us part.”

You didn't bother to count how long you two stayed like that, not even with the constant tick, tick, ticking of a grandfather clock coming from the hall. Everything seemed to settle for a moment in time. Stopping just for you two. He didn't even shift on the floor in an attempt to get comfortable as he continued to kneel before you.

The silence was only interrupted when you leaned in further and finally pressed a kiss to Neuvillette's lips. He met you in turn, kissing you back with a gentle slide of your lips to his before he was situating himself back before you with a small smile gracing his features.

Finally, the sky behind you had become clear once again as he asked “my pearl, do you not have a project to finish?”

And truthfully, you did. A little matching otter in your own favorite colors to hang off your canes was waiting to be given a head, but for now, it could wait.

Because all you needed was “just a moment more.”

After all, you didn't want to regret letting this day pass you by. Or tomorrow when it inevitably comes.

And neither did Neuvillette as he agreed with another kiss to your lips.

[kusanagihaku]

the best of times, the worst of crimes

⭢ romeo, 1.7k

u is for undercover. ˖⁺‧₊⟡ alphabet series | ao3

“If you were to steal something from this room,” you hear, “what would it be?”

You look up carefully. 

You identify the source of the question immediately as one half of a young couple; a quick glance over their joined hands confirms they are on a weekend date, one of many in the crowd of people lining the museum exhibit. They look freshly out of high school, armed and brash with the sort of invulnerability only the youth have when it comes to discussing crime.

The girl barely tosses her partner a glance before responding. “The diamonds, of course. They’re so pretty.” 

You are mindful not to snort. Or too loudly, anyway. 

You return your eyes to the glass case in front of you, to the milky-blue gem and the brilliant star reflecting off its greyish surface. The diamonds in this exhibit are worth pennies compared to some of the other items in this hall, including the very gemstone you are looking at, but you can see why the shiny rocks might be someone else’s first choice. 

“They’re just diamonds,” her partner says, as you circle the case. His voice is slightly whiny, coated with a mild superciliousness that grates against your nerves. “I bet these carved jade statues are worth much more.” 

This time it is not you who snorts – when you look up again, your gaze slides through the glass case to alight on a man with greyish hair. He is far from old, however; his smooth skin, free from wrinkle lines and sun spots, barely betrays a small amount of derision as he peruses the same gem you were looking at just moments ago. The way he holds himself, hands clasped behind his back, reminds you vaguely of an aristocrat whose house you were tasked with burgling a few years ago. 

He’s beautiful. 

And not in an entirely human way, either – the polished glass of his skin reminds you more of marble than flesh and blood, a terrifying pale that exposes little emotion or imperfection. If you were a Greek statue collector, you’d consider him a near masterpiece. 

“Quanto sei minchione,” he murmurs to the man next to him. It is only now that you notice his black-coated companion, silent and half a step behind him with hair as grey as his own. His companion– his assistant?– does not respond. 

You hold back a frown. These are not your average museum goers. 

As much effort as they’ve put into dressing as casually as the chattering tourists surrounding you, with warm sweaters neatly tucked into blue jeans, the two men are in impeccably tailored coats that billow a little too convincingly around their waists and thighs. You do not spot outlines of firearms from where you are standing, of course, but there is no doubt that some weapon or tool or another has been stashed in places easy to reach. 

You watch as the man’s eyes flick to the security systems embedded in the bottom of the glass case, then to the black velvet lining its edges that undoubtedly houses some form of alarm. Ah– 

Before you can redirect your attention, however, the man’s eyes flick up to meet yours. 

Ametrine, is the first thing that comes to your mind. Framed by grey lashes is a brilliant violet fading into crimson gold; the hues of an angry sunset, unmarred by the thick glass casing between you, paint themselves into a carefully schooled blank look. How cheap a gemstone ametrine is, for someone who looks so expensive. 

You should leave him alone, you know, especially after you’ve inferred his purpose, but why should you? You’ve had your eyes on the gems in the case first. 

And oh, you’ve never been one to give up a pretty jewel – it is why you do what you do, after all. You grin at the amethyst glint in his eye through the smudge of fingerprints and dust. “Sono proprio dei cetrioli.” 

There is a flash of suspicion cleverly concealed by the flutter of his eyelashes before he smiles at you in return, narrow and sweet and sharp. 

“They are simply naive,” he agrees. Your Italian may not be perfect, but you’ve been around long enough in your line of work to understand it conversationally. “I would have not gone for the jade.” 

He steps to his left the same time you step to your right. Your smile grows wider. You wonder if the circling of the case reminds you more of a scene in a famous romance movie, or more of sharks in the water. “No?”

You wouldn’t have gone for the jade either – you’ve seen far more valuable jade pieces in the private collections you’ve swiped in the past year alone. 

“No,” he says. His eyes slither down to the display between you. “Perhaps the rubies.” 

You see the line of his assistant’s shoulders tense instantly in startled protest. He does not make a sound, however; the man must be telling the truth about his target. 

Your brow creases briefly, an imperceptible flicker before you smooth out a smile again. Your case file notes that your client’s top priority is instead the grey-blue sapphire resting on a different side of the case, infinitely more valuable not only because of its size but also its storied history. Why would they be after the ruby instead?

“And you?” he says, perfectly courteous. His mask is smooth again; you cannot tell how much he knows. Has he already sensed that you are in the same line of work?

No matter – you will have to strike before he does. If the ruby is found missing, the heightened security will surely make it more difficult for you to get to the sapphire. 

“I would have said the sapphires,” you say, carefully. You make sure your eyes meet again before you smile, all teeth. “But now? Now, I would rather the amethysts.” 

-

“Fucking PITA,” Romeo curses, the moment the heavy car door slams shut. His alabaster mask cracks as he turns in his seat to face Ritsu. “They’re after the sapphire.”

Ritsu raises an eyebrow before starting the engine. The hum of the car purrs beneath his fingers as their safety mechanisms activate. “Didn’t they say they changed their mind?”

“You fool,” Romeo seethes. He slides a finger into a discreet spot underneath his seat. A lock springs open, and he picks up a file from inside the fingerprint-secured glove compartment that has just come unlocked. “It’s me, I’m the amethyst.” 

He waves the file towards his eyes; Ritsu barely spares him a glance before peeling out of the parking lot. “Oh.”

Seriously, why does he even keep assistants around anymore? UBFs, the lot of them. He’s going to get fucking wrinkles. 

“I’ll have to rearrange the plans,” he huffs, instead, returning his attention to the files. Even if they weren’t after the same jewels, it’d make it undoubtedly more difficult to carry out their plan if the sapphire was gone. “We’ll have to strike tonight.” 

Ritsu nods. “Third page under the fourth tab. Plan D3.”

Romeo grunts in acknowledgement. He flips quickly to the stated page, scanning through the schedule printed on it and the attached details about changes in the security timetable. They didn’t factor in the possibility of there being another jewel thief eyeing the same case, but they’ll have to accommodate. 

“We’ll go with D3,” Romeo sniffs. “But we go in at ten past one instead of three. I don’t want them to arrive first.” 

Ritsu hums in thought. “We could let them arrive first. We can’t be charged with breaking in, if the way in was already clear.” 

Romeo taps a long finger against the file. Huh. Maybe that’s why Ritsu has lasted the longest out of all of his assistants. “We let them do the dirty work first. Swoop in to get the ruby right after.”  

Ritsu nods, and makes a left turn. “It’s a lesser charge, anyway.”

-

You’ve had to shift your plans up much more than you expected. 

Usually you’d case the joint for a few more days before returning, but the presence of the two men by the jewel case today has really thrown a wrench in that plan. You hope that by striking a little before two in the morning, you’ve sufficiently pre-empted their attack. 

You shimmy closer to the exhibit. All the necessary night guards have already been disposed of, of course, but you can’t ever be too careful. 

A small alert flashes in the corner of your night goggles. Heat signatures detected ahead. 

You freeze. If you strain your eyes a little you can make out the faintly red outline of two bodies, each positioned at opposite ends of the entrance. They don’t look like any of the guards you’ve memorised as being on the roster for tonight. Rather, their heights more match a certain pair you’ve met today.

You wait a bit before advancing, but the figures don’t seem to be moving. If anything, they seem to be waiting for you. 

Your lips curl up in a smirk. You slip the goggles off, letting your eyes adjust to the dim lighting lining the floor of the exhibit. 

Your mind flashes back to the intel you gathered earlier in the afternoon. An Italian rising from rags to riches that disappeared off the face of the earth after his very first successful heist five or so years ago, name only resurfacing in whispers every once in a while after museums near his last sighting had been broken into. He was spotted in Japan just last week, your sources say, but nobody is ever really sure – no-one has ever gotten close enough and lived to describe exactly what he looked like. 

Except for you, now. After this you’ll sell information on how soft the gunmetal of his hair is and how beautiful and cold the warm twilight in his eyes are. 

As you pad closer to the jewel case you see him turn to greet you. His wool coat has been traded for a slick black uniform, disguising the lithe of his form and any number of tools necessary for the job. 

He smiles, terrifying and sweet. “Hello.” 

You grin, and stick out a hand he does not take. “Looking forward to working with you, Romeo.” 

[lowkaylove]

Anything Less Than, Everything & More

Pairings: Sylus x MC

Please be kind. This is my first ever fic.

CW: Angst, MC remembers everything, comparing herself to past!MC, hurt/comfort, Sylus’s horns make an appearance, Mephie is the best boy, PTSD, feelings of survivor’s guilt/shame, references to Dragon!Sylus’s death, please let me know if I’m missing any tags (I’m bad at this)

Notes: not beta read-we explode like Josephine. Not really edited as I have never written anything before in my life. I’m not creative, I’m just hyperfixated on fictional men that a girl can only dream of.

Prompt: You remember everything. And Sylus couldn’t be happier. You both could finally move forward and conquer the world like you were always meant to do. The problem is…you realize that you’re not her…and you never will be. She was enough for him to sacrifice his life for. Who the hell are you to deserve that kind of devotion from a man like Sylus? Honestly, who are you to demand anything from him after everything he went through to find her, only to end up with your version of the woman he loved. The one who showed him nothing but undeserved hatred and disgust in the beginning. A fucking rookie hunter with a mediocre evol at best. Someone who was useless to him from the beginning.

Why couldn’t you just be her? Doesn’t Sylus deserve to be happy? Maybe…if you can’t be her…maybe there’s a way to become useful and worthy of a little more of his time, however short it will last.

Prologue

You barely make it to your bed after an exhausting day.

It’s been almost nonstop missions for the last month, one after the other. And when you’re not on a mission, you got a second job at a boutique thanks to a recommendation from Rafayel to the owner. You still need to figure out a way to pay him back for his help.

For now, you’ve just been less of a brat when you work for him and will cater to his every whim so he’ll hire you for more bodyguard work.

Truly, nothing has exhausted you more physically. But it’s nothing compared to the mental toll you’ve suffered since a little over 2 months ago. But you are determined that this will all be worth it in the end.

Sylus is counting on you, and you won’t fail him this time.

2 months ago

It happened all at once.

Sylus had taken you to a field of flowers to watch the sunset. A perfect date as you two grew closer.

After settling down on the hillside, you couldn’t take your eyes off of the beautiful flora that surrounded you. Bold and intimidating red flowers blossomed all around you. The air felt familiar. Sylus felt a little too familiar and yet you swore you’ve never been here before.

After enjoying a small picnic, you stand up to stretch your limbs, gazing out towards the horizon. “It’s really beautiful out here, Sylus. I’ve never seen these flowers before, but the sunset makes the hills looks like they’re covered in rubies.”

“A fitting description, sweetie. The hills are bathed in rubies as far as the eyes can see.” But Sylus’s gaze rests on your silhouette turned away from him, his eyes filled with longing and devotion like no other.

Your heart clenches at his words. A sudden pang sends a tremor through your body. You’ve heard those word before…where have you heard them before?

“Sweetie?” Sylus calls out to you, concerned.

You turn to find him with one leg bent, arm resting on the knee. The other leg is stretched out. He removed his leather jacket and looks comfortable in is burgundy sweater and black denim. His eyes are full of worry though.

Then, images flash before you. Sylus, sitting the exact way he is now, but something is off. This Sylus is different. Black scales adorn his skin. His outfit does little to cover his chest and abdomen, a red gem rests in the middle of his chest.

This Sylus has horns. A tail.

This Sylus isn’t a human.

He is a Dragon.

My dragon is gone.

All of a sudden, an entirely different life floods your vision. You’re there, and so is Sylus. But it’s somewhere you’ve never been. The flowers on the hill shine under the sun. An organ plays beautifully in the distance. A beautiful Dragon carries you across vaguely familiar lands. It’s so beautiful, but all too much at the same time.

Pain sears through your head and you cry out. Your hands move to your temples as you land on your knees. They cover your ears as you moan in pain.

“Kitten!” Sylus rushed to you, he places his hands over yours then trails them down to your elbows and up to your shoulders. “Sweetie, what’s happening?”

It felt as if your head was splitting open. Your eyes were clenched shut but the visions were clear behind your eyelids.

Stayrus? …Can I call you a name that sounds similar? How does Sylus sound?

“Sweetheart, please…look at me…” You faintly hear Sylus’s voice break as if he’s in pain as well.

Sing that song again.

You feel the world spinning as this other Sylus rolls the both of you down a hill of flowers.

Only you and this flower can touch me here…

Your lungs are heavy with exhaustion as you feel your throat tighten. Tears run down your face as you finally look up at Sylus.

“S-Sylus…it hurts…” His eyes widen in panic before checking you over for an injury that isn’t there.

Taurus City can have flowers bloom everywhere…as far as the eye can see…

“You’re okay, sweetie…is it your heart? The Aether core?” Vermillion eyes scan over your face in worry.

But only for one person.

A kiss that never happened. It was all in your head. An illusion the both of you conjured to survive the pain and loss of each other.

You reach up, your shaky hands hovering over Sylus’s head…where his horns should be.

You must press on.

Pain sweeps over your entire body in waves. Your eyes clench shut again. Bile rises in your throat. You know exactly what happens next. You’ve lived this before. You were the one who committed this sin against your beloved.

Sylus won’t stop saying your name, desperate to grab your attention away from the pain your feeling. You faintly hear him shouting in the distance. “Luke! Kieran! Get a doctor to meet us at the base!” The twins respond from a speaker, likely Sylus’s phone.

Because…if you don’t…there’s no going back…

He’s gone. You’re alone in the field this time. You killed your Dragon, and now he’s gone. You remember the agony tearing out of your throat as you wail into the air, mourning the wonderful life you had lost, and the one you never got to have with your dragon.

And then…silence.

Air fills your lungs again. Your entire body goes slack and falls into Sylus’s embrace. You cough and choke on the oxygen overwhelming your senses. The tears don’t stop falling. The tremors do not leave your hands. And Sylus…oh Sylus

Labored breaths rack your entire body. Pain and relief clash together as you try to get your bearings.

“Kitten…are…are you o-okay?” His voice is shaky, as if he’s hopeful, yet afraid the agony isn’t over.

As you continue to breathe heavy and gasp for air, whimpers escape your lips as you nod weakly.

“I-I think I’m o-okay.” Your breathing eventually evens out.

Sylus takes this as a sign that he can touch you without causing any pain. His hands cup your cheeks as he lifts your gaze to his.

“We need to get you home. There is a doctor waiting to check over you. Can you walk, sweetie?” His eyes search your tear-filled ones.

“Wait. Sylus-”

“If not, I don’t mind carrying you. I just don’t want to cause you any pain if I touch you.” Sylus is desperate, frantic to get you somewhere safe. What if he loses you again? He can’t risk that.

A faint smile lifts the corners of your mouth. A sob escaped your lips as you really look at this beautiful man worrying over you.

“Sylus…you could never hurt me. How could you ever think that?” Your hands are hovering over his head again, as if searching for the horns. Maybe they’re hidden by his evol. Maybe he doesn’t have them in this life.

You can only pray that, if he still has them, he didn’t cut them off again like countless times before.

Your voice trembles. “Oh my Dragon…” another sob escaped your lips as Sylus’s heart stops beating for a moment. “I’m so…I’m so sorry.”

Everything stills in the world. Carmine eyes turn glassy as they peer into your very soul. His breaths quicken.

“What…what did you say?” He can’t believe it. He wouldn’t dare hope. This is a trick. Someone has trapped him in an illusion where you remember him. His heart will surely break beyond oblivion. Cursed by his beloved or not, he would not come back after this. This death will be absolute.

“Sylus I-I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. For what I did to you then and in this life.” You can’t stop crying.

A slight mist rolls over Sylus’s eyes. Deep vermillion turns into shining garnets as one tear, then another, and another makes their way down his face. A look of hope and despair is all you can see. He then whispers your name so softly you thought you imagined it.

“How…how did you-? How much do you…remember?” Sylus releases short and shaky breaths with his words. A man of calm and collection and dignity has never looked so terrified and unsure and small.

You’re afraid to answer, but he deserves that at the very least from you. You took everything from him in his last life and condemned him in this one. You owe him this.

You slightly look at your surroundings. “Today is the most I’ve felt at peace in a long time. You gave me that. And in a field of datura flowers no less.” Your gaze lands on him, a small reassuring smile graces your lips.

“You gave me everything I could have ever wanted. You fulfilled every desire I craved. You…you protected me when we were ripped apart.” Your voice breaks on that last word.

A hand cups your cheek. “Sweetie, tell me…please. I need to know.” Sylus knows he sounds desperate, and he doesn’t care. This was everything. And he’ll be damned if this moment is gone before he loses you again.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you tackle him in an embrace. Truly giving yourself to this moment, you leave no room for any misunderstandings.

“I remember everything, Sylus. I remember giving you your name. I remember the mark you left me. We conquered enemies together. We took what was ours and fed into each other’s desires. I remember singing for you. I remember…” Your arms wind tighter around him.

“I remember being ripped apart from you. I remember the datura field. I…I remember being reunited with you once again only to take away everything from you. I remember the…curse I gave you…” Your crimes against him hit you hard.

You suddenly back away, already missing his comforting touch. But you don’t have that right or privilege anymore. You can no longer claim him as yours now that ignorance is out of the question. You remember everything. And now it’s time to repay for your crimes.

Your hands hover in front of you, palms forward in a surrendering position.

“And I’m so sorry, Sylus. I’m so sorry for everything I did. And for all of the pain I caused you. You have no idea how much I wish it was me instead of you…”

Your eyes remain on his as you vow to him, “I swear on this life and every one after that I will make things right. I will do anything you ask. Anything you command of me. I will accept any punishment you demand. Whatever penance you desire to inflict upon me. I swear it…” A small glimmer in your eyes begs Sylus to have mercy, but it is immediately shadowed by all of the guilt. You don’t deserve all of this kindness he’s shown you again. Why hasn’t he tossed you to your demise after all of this? What could you possibly have done to be shown his mercy?

Sylus doesn’t move except for the inhale and exhale movements from his chest.

“Sweetie…do you swear this isn’t a dream? Do you really remember everything?”

You nod, the lump in your throat makes it difficult to formulate words.

Suddenly he’s right in front of you. His movements are frantic again. Tremors run through his hands as they trail up your arms to your shoulders and up your neck to cradle your face again.

“My Sorceress. My beloved…I have waited so long to find you again. You’re as beautiful as that day in the datura fields of Taurus City…I finally found you…” he breathes out the last words with a smile.

“And you are my everything, I wouldn’t dare let any harm come to you. You have nothing to apologize for. I knew that…I knew I was losing myself. If you hadn’t done it, I would’ve…” His voice is choked.

He pressed his forehead against yours, and you bask in his embrace. The warmth from his breath, the soothing touch of his hands, the piercing gaze he has over you make you want to melt in his arms.

“I would’ve done something I’d never forgive myself of. Trust me, my love, the sword going through my chest was the better option.”

Although I feel a semblance of relief from his words, it doesn’t shake away the guilt I feel for cursing him.

“But I cursed you, Sylus. You’ll never truly be free. You’re forever chained to me. And I’m not…I’m not her. Not really. All the possibilities of who I could be in the next life and the next…it’s not fair to you.” My gaze drops in shame.

Sylus’s face turns into one of resolve. “Look at me.” He uses his evol to slightly jerk my head up and look into his eyes.

I start pleading again. “I promise I’ll fix ev-”

“You will do no such thing.”

My watery eyes widen in confusion. “I don’t-I don’t understand…”

He gives me his signature smirk. “My love, I’m a little heartbroken. Even after remembering everything, you still don’t get it.”

“You will do nothing of the sort. I am not chained down to you. I am not here unwillingly. From the very beginning, I swore to move mountains for you, crush your enemies, and give you everything you desired. That hasn’t changed…and it never will.”

After all this time, Sylus finally has you back. And he couldn’t be happier. Everything working up to this moment was worth it.

Externally, your eyes shined with relief that his love for you has held strong all these years. You were beyond elated that you have returned to each other.

Internally, you knew what had to be done. You knew that you had to make things right. You weren’t good enough in this life to deserve a man of Sylus’s caliber. He deserved his Sorceress.

Now you just needed a plan on how to become her, or at least anything better than what you are, before Sylus realizes just how much you pale in comparison to the woman he loved in Taurus City.

Sylus would never accept anything less than her.

Maybe I can do a part 2 if y’all want to get into the rest of what I planned to write. I’m hella self-deprecating and self-sabotaging in my own life, why not be the same in fiction.

Let me know if y’all think this can be something

[orcinus-the-orca]

Was going through my notes when I stumbled upon a snippet from a larger story. A Batfam x DCMK crossover, to put it plainly. The main jist is Conan, Saguru, Heiji, Haibara, and Kaito end up in the DC world because of gem shenanigans. And then somehow, the first four end up in the good graces of the Batfam. Kaito avoids them like the plague, and as far as the detectives (and Haibara) know, they don't know if he followed them to this world or not. Here's one of those proposed ideas of how they find out about KID's presence.

Further background: Tim Drake (as Robin) has had at least one run-in with a strange guy. I wrote this around the time of just getting into DC lore, so forgive some of the wording. This was also last updated in October 2022.

 “What do you have there?”

 Tim jumped at the small voice, swiveling his chair around to look at the little girl by his chair. She was staring at his monitor with a bored expression, though her blue eyes seemed to sparkle with something else. Curiosity, maybe, but Tim was too tired to properly guess.

 The teenager leaned back into the back of his seat, rubbing the sting from his eyes. He’d been twenty minutes without coffee and the effects were already getting to his nerves, “Some guy I met on patrol.”

 “Trying to find leads?” The little girl hummed, tilting her head back to view the bright screen better. “At least you’re being smart about it.”

 “Hey, I–“ Tim blinked, “What do you mean by that?”

 Haibara glanced up, surprise finally alight in her features, “You are reviewing footage. Had it been Kudo-kun, he would be breaking into homes and licking foreign objects.”

 Tim had no answer. He was already thrown off by the implications that he was doing something rational, which was not a word typically used to describe him nor his habits. He was the “weird” one by his family’s standards and had never once had himself compared to being normal about anything. Though he wasn’t sure the word described him, he wasn’t going to ruin it by admitting that he and Kudo shared a lot of things, actually.

 “Have you any leads?” Haibara asked, and Tim realized only then that she had dragged another one of the chairs to the desk. “Suspects?”

 “I– No,” Tim shook his head. “Just that he’s hard to trace, apparently. Impressive, really.”

 “How do you mean?” Haibara linked her fingers together.

 Tim waved his hand as he rewound the footage for the 53rd time, “I can’t find where he went; let alone where he came from. My only guess is he’s disguising himself, so maybe some sort of shape shifter…”

 Tim waited, expecting another question from the little girl, but she kept quiet. Her eyes were locked onto the playing video, following every movement of the man Tim had met. The man performed that trick with the cards, throw an eight of hearts and ace of spades at the two men who had been firing at them. The force at which each card had been thrown managed to knock the men off their balance while still being capable of embedding into the wall behind. Tim stared down at his notes, contemplating whether super strength was qualified to be added.

 “I was wondering where he might be.”

 Tim snapped his head to Haibara, whose expression had lifted into something amusement. Tim stared at the video then at her, “You know this guy?”

 “Who said anything about knowing?” Haibara asked with a coy smile. “I cannot say I know him, but I certainly know of him. Kudo-kun and Hakuba-kun, on the other hand, have had enough experience that I would reason they’re in a committed relationship by now.”

 “Kudo and Hakuba?” Tim mouthed.

 “For both of our sakes, I would recommend you not tell them of this,” Haibara explained, inching towards the edge of her seat. “When it comes to him, the detective will do anything to have one of their confrontations.”

 Tim’s eyes narrowed, “Why is that? Who is he?”

 Haibara placed her elbows on her knees, creating a rest for her chin to set upon, “You have heard his name before. He is a criminal of many faces, a thief who steals his prizes only to return them to their rightful owners. The magician dressed in white to perform his tricks for his faithful audience. The one thief those detectives have never bested.”

 Haibara lifted her gaze towards Tim, her blue eyes sparkling with humor, “He is the internationally wanted thief, Kaitou 1412. Better known by his name KID.”

 “KID,” Tim mouthed, then with louder ferocity, “That was Kaitou KID?!?”  Haibara closed her eyes, “Bingo.”

[akwolfgrl]

Promise day 4

Zoro watched as they drew near to the Braite, the moon dipping below the horizon; the sun just started to peek out. He hadn't seen Sanji in a few months. He was busy trying to save enough money to buy new earrings. They were gold and dangle like his own, but they had a heart made from a blue gem. They caught the light just right and sparkled in a way that reminded Zoro of the shining across the sea. When he first saw them, he had to have them. They looked just like his mate's eyes. 

Johnny came to sit beside him yawning, it was still early. They sailed through the night. The Baratie would be getting ready for the day soon, Zoro was going to find Zeff and ask for Sanji's hand in marriage, he thought it was old fashioned but Curly loved romantic shit. Besides, the old geezer would kill him if he didn't. 

“Wow, is that what I think it is?” Johnny asked him, pointing at the weird fish shaped restaurant, and Sanji had told him about Zeffs chicken figurehead from back when he was a pirate. The old geezer had questionable taste when it came to the shapes of boats. “Man, I've heard of this place! The food is supposed to be to die for! There's always a good fight to see, and rumor has it there is a pretty blond omega who works there,” He felt Yosaku join them. “People saw he looks like an angel,”

“All ture, the pretty blonde's my mate,” Zoro proudly bragged. He wasn't jealous of other men looking. They had no chance. Women on the hand were a different story. 

“Wait, you have a mate?” Yosaku asked, shocked for some reason. 

“No fucking duh, the marks right thire,” Zoro pointed to the back of his neck, right where Sanji could always protect him. 

“Wow would ya look at that!”

“Way to go bro!”

Zoro spotted a blonde head out on the deck, most likely smoking a cigarette and having black tea watching the sun rise. Zoro couldn't wait anymore. He patted his haramaki, making sure the jewelry box was tucked away safely. Zoro stood up and jumped out of their small boat.

“Zoro!” 

“What are you doing?”

“I'm swimming to Sanji!” Their boat was going too slow, and he couldn't wait any longer, Zoro swam towards his omega, his Sanji. His heart was pounding in his chest at the thought of holding the blond in his arms once again. 

When he got to the deck, Sanji was waiting for him, his hair aglow in the early morning light. Zoro understood why people would compare Sanji to an angel…if they never met him. 

“Marmio? It's about damn time you made your way back here,” Sanji smirked. “Maybe you should stay in the water a little longer, I'll bring you some soap, and you can wash your smelly ass,” Sanji's smoke hearts betrayed how happy he was to see him. 

“See if I ever come for a visit again if you're gonna be like that,” Zoro huffed before climbing out of the water. 

“The old geezer would be happy,” 

“Well that's too damn bad for him,” Zoro grinned and scooped Sanji into his arms and spun him around. 

The blonde laughed and took his face in between his hands, his long fingers caressing his cheeks before their lips met. Zoro could taste the omegas tea and cigarettes. Something that shouldn't be so addictive but yet it was. When they finally came up for air, Zoro put Sanji back down 

"Marry me." The words tumbled out of his mouth as he returned Sanji to the floor.

The omega looked at him with amusement in his blue eyes, "Aren't you forgetting something,”

"What? Oh." Zoro dropped to one knee and took out the jewelry box. The earrings glittered in the sunlight. "Marry me, I don't wish to be apart from you for a second longer,”

“Yes!” Sanji launched himself at Zoro, knocking them both to the deck, kissing the life out of him. 

“Hey! You two no fucking on the deck!” Patty yelled at them. 

Zoro didn't need to look to know that Sanji was flipping the other alpha off.

[epilvgue]

The cold weather was something new. Something strange and foreign. Even to the Plant. Vash had only ever experienced snow and winter once, and it had been extremely brief. Not even the cryo-sleep chambers of the SEED's ships could compare to this.

Nothing could compare to the real thing. To seeing it in person. It was so cold that he could see his breath in front of his face, white fluff accumulated on the ground. The shore by the sea was even cooler, but he had gathered there with several others due to a posting and word of mouth regarding some sort of voyage. A voyage out to sea.

The sea.

He stood on the small boat, leaning against the railing. Vash had only seen video's and simulations of the sea and he thought that he could spend hours looking out at the waters, even if it was cold and dreary and the sky was overcast. Yet even as the snow gently floated down from the clouds, the waves were too much to be contained. They wouldn't freeze or ice over like a pond or a lake. However, soon he caught a flash of white and blue out of the corner of his eye. The cold winter sun flashed over his glasses as he raised his head.

"…Oh…" Vash glanced away from Legato. He was so uncertain of how to react to Legato. How to talk to him. How to feel. How to look at him. It felt even stranger as he had already recognized the way that Knives looked at this man who had caused him so much torment - but… this strange version of Legato wasn't quite that man yet, was he?

Finally he raised a hand and waved with a tight little smile. "Hey… what're you doin' here? You wanna see the island too? Or are you goin' after th' gems?" - He thought that he might collect one or two, though he was mostly interested in exploring Arcus Cove. The ruins that were said to be at the top of the cove's rocky, currently barren, peak.

@bluestringpuppeteer / Hearths Rising Starter

[bookofnottheaxolotl]

Chapter 2

[Time and location]

_______________________________________

The light of the rising sun shined brightly over the calm surface of the ocean. The sky wore just a few small clouds, wich were carried eastward by a strong wind. In the midst of the peacefull scene, the waves only barely moving it, was a small boat.

Spread out onto a wooden table, surrounded by various newspaper clippings, laid a large map. Pins had been inserted at several locations, seemingly at random. "Why is it, that after almost a month of looking, we still havent a clue where that damn muffin is?" Wilhelm asked no one in particular. "It shouldnt be possible for that thing to be moving that fast. One day its in one place, and the next its practicaly on the other side of the world!"

"I think I do see some sort of patern." Charlie metioned while comparing the dates and locations of the sightings. "The muffin seems to keep returning to the same place near the coast, where it was first seen two weeks ago." Looking at the spot she had pointed at, Wilhelm replied: "I see what you mean. It could be worth it to go there, and wait untill the muffin comes back there again."

Liam, growing increasingly impatient, sighed loudly. "Out of all the white rocks in the world, we're after the only one that can run away! Why does Schrödinger even want that specific one in the first place?" "Well, Liam." Wilhelm replied. "Firstly, its not just any old crystal. It is a magic gem, the gem of immortality to be more specific."

"What does he even need it for, anyway? It's not like the man is dying anytime soon, right?" Liam asked, more hesitant than before. "I was just about to say that." Wilhelm said, peeved about being interrupted. "He's trying to bring something back from the dead. A year or so ago, dr. Schrödinger got his hands on some sort of dead golem, and he's been looking for a way to revive the thing. From what i've gathered, he believes the gem of immortality will help him with that."

Having heard Wilhelms explanation, and learning what was at stake, Liam began to put away the map. According to Charlie's theory, the muffin would be back at the same location in the late afternoon of the following day.

With the table being empty for the first time in weeks, and the fact they had the rest of the day to do whatever, Liam grabbed a deck of cards out of one of the many cluttered drawers. "How about a game of blackjack?" Both Wilhelm and Charlie agreed to the welcome distraction, and the group sat down in a circle at the table. While the game certainly would have been more fun had they been playing with more people, they soon lost track of time.

[fallenasleepyetagain]

Date - Fresh/Nightmare

Prompt: Meet Cute/Blind Date

Prompt from: @yearoftheotpevent

Media: UTMV/Undertale AUs

Genres: Human AU, blind date, first date, romance (I guess haha), rivals (?) to lovers, ooooo Fresh is from Nightmare’s past ooooo, use of 90s slang because lord knows I’m not going to write Fresh without it

Pairing(s): Fresh/Nightmare

CW/TW - Mentions of Fresh infecting people, mentions of theft

Other Notes: I’m not the most proud of this one tbh😔 this month was rough for writing. I would’ve loved to write their date but I did not have the time. maybe another day…

Word Count: 1837 Words

“Can I start you for tonight, sir?”

“I am waiting for someone, but a lambrusco would be excellent.”

“I will get that for you sir.”

“Thank you.” Nightmare nodded, watching the waiter walk off.

Blind dates were stupid. Absolutely stupid. Nightmare set the menu down and rubbed his forehead, looking out at the window. He had to be about ninety stories up, he could still see the sun, despite it trying to set on the horizon. The restaurant's ambiance was nice. It was formal, quiet, and the live music was a great touch. A small orchestra was playing a variety of classical music, and Nightmare quite liked it. It wasn’t the fanciest restaurant he’s ever been to, but he didn’t expect much from his boys. He also didn’t expect himself to agree to a blind date set up by said boys, and yet here he was.

Did he seem sad and pathetic? Is that why they set him up on a date with a stranger? Nightmare didn’t feel sad and pathetic, he was the King of Negativity after all, there was no one better than he. Which is why this blind date idea felt so stupid to him. He could get any man he wanted, and yet his boys decide to set him up with a stranger? How stupid.

…Yet he agreed to it, didn’t he? He supposed that the worst thing that could happen is that it’s some weirdo, and he just chucks them out the window and treats himself to dinner. The best thing that could happen was that no one showed up and he got to eat by himself. The quiet of the restaurant was nice compared to what often happened during meal times. There was always a lot of shouting and lack of manners at Nightmare’s dinner table.

The waiter returned with his wine, opening the bottle and pouring a glass for him. He didn’t allow the waiter to set it back down, as he took it from their hands directly. He thanked them before turning back to the window. He twirled the wine around in the glass for a moment before taking a sip.

Oh, how he absolutely adored red wine. One could call him a wine connoisseur, and he would wear that title with pride. Perhaps it made him seem a bit arrogant, but he didn’t care. He was arrogant, might as well pair it with a fine wine.

Another swish of the glass before he took a sip, slowly feeling the alcoholic juice slip down his throat. His teal eyes shut as he did so, allowing himself the satisfaction of taking in no other sensation than the taste of the wine. Lambrusco was really a hidden gem in the wine world. This particular wine was of great quality. Nightmare could tell. Cheap lambrusco was often very sweet, and this was aged and dry to perfection. He took another sip, his lips curling back into a smile. There was nothing like a good wine on a calm evening. It was perfect. Even if his date decided to show up right at that moment, he wouldn’t even care.

“Yo, Nightmare, brah! I think you’re my date for tonight!”

Nightmare could hear the glass of his soul cracking in his mind. His eyes opened into a confused scowl as he looked to his left. Standing in front of him was that abhorrent, nineties parasite. Standing at a horrific six feet (or two hundred centimeters) was Fresh, and the bastard didn’t even try to dress up! Nightmare was horrified. Fresh was in his everyday wear, which was already beginning to hurt his eyes. He was wearing that stupidly obnoxious blue, purple, and white sweatshirt of his, and the pink shirt underneath and the massive 90s collar. His pants were also a variety of neon colors, and frankly, if it pissed Nightmare off. Pick a color scheme and stick with it goddamnit! Even Cross, the most idiotic man he’s ever met, could understand that!

Fresh cocked his head to the side, a smile on his face. He was wearing his rectangular sunglasses (Nightmare wasn’t convinced that they were actual sunglasses, considering their properties) that currently said “YOLO” in bright yellow and blue lettering. Nightmare knew what the glasses were concealing. This particular host of Fresh’s was tall, a little lanky, and had dark skin. The host had their hair styled into box braids, with neon colored hair extensions weaved into it. No doubt it was Fresh’s doing. Nightmare couldn’t put his finger on it, but he could see the way they had been woven together had Fresh’s name written all over it.

“This cannot possibly be right. What are you doing here?” Nightmare asked, his face pulled back into a scowl. He only got more visibly angry when Fresh sat himself down on the chair across from Nightmare. Fresh grinned at him, leaning back in the seat and man-spreading as he did so. Nightmare didn’t even want to know what the other guests thought of this horrid exchange.

“It most certainly is correct my dude!” Fresh clicked his teeth and gave Nightmare finger guns which made him cringe. “Ya know, when I got the invite from your boys, I was a bit nervous y’know? I thought they were gonna kill me whenever I arrived here, haha!”

Wine glasses were usually supposed to be filled to around halfway, perhaps even less, depending on the type of wine and the consumer. However, Nightmare filled his glass nearly all of the way as Fresh spoke. He nearly downed the entire glass in one sip. He’d need a little alcohol to deal with this nonsense.

“How long have you been here? Sorry for not getting here sooner! Nearly got lost a couple times!”

“It would have been a major shame if you did.” Nightmare stated, sarcasm dripping from his lips as he took another sip of his wine.

“Hella broski!” Fresh, however, did not pick up on his sarcastic tone. Unless he did, and was just messing with Nightmare? God, Nightmare could never tell with this guy! He just could not read Fresh, and it pissed him off.

There was an awkward silence that Nightmare didn’t even attempt to fill. He gently sipped his alcohol as he watched Fresh, noticing that he barely twitches, his stupid smile still on his face. Nightmare didn’t want to look at him nonstop, but there was this awful feeling in his chest, that if he looked away Fresh would disappear or get closer to him. Fresh always had this uncanniness about him. Similar to a robot, or a statue.

In a way, Nightmare was right for feeling that way. Fresh was just puppeting a flesh suit, and all of his mannerisms showed that clearly. It was like he was pretending, acting as if he was human. He was doing an incredibly poor job.

With one final rub to his temple, Nightmare held up his hand to get the attention of a waiter. He was not going to deal with this. He would pay for his wine (as any respectable person would do, he may be an evil king but he wasn’t a monster!), leave, and then discipline whoever thought that playing with his love life was a joke.

“Ah ah! Wait a minute will you brah?!” Fresh reached across the table, grabbing Nightmare by his hand and yanking it down. “C’mon! At least give me a chance?”

“Why?” Nightmare hissed, yanking his hand away. “I know what you are. You can’t possibly feel any actual attraction to me.”

“Woah, bold assumptions there!” Fresh leaned over, putting a hand against his chin. “I mean, you’re the king, broski! Who wouldn’t be attracted to ya?”

Nightmare rubbed his forehead, debating just getting out of there.

“Ah, but anyways, I’ve been wantin’ to talk to you for a while now! You’re just so…” Fresh’s expression changes into something more sinister, and Nightmare can feel the aura of the room changing as it did so. “Interestin’, y’know?” Always have been. Ever since you were purple.”

Ah, right. Nightmare had nearly forgotten his small encounter with Fresh. It had to have been around two hundred or so years ago since their first meeting. It wasn’t anything revolutionary, but it had planted the seed in Nightmare’s mind that there was something else out there. After all, a small, bright purple, four-tentacled creature with a black and yellow eye-mouth isn’t something you say everyday. Especially if your everyday consisted of living in the same forest that never changed. Nightmare dared Dream to eat it- er, Fresh, but he refused. And for better or for worse that decision somehow led Nightmare to be sitting at a dinner table with the man. If only Dream had more balls and eaten him when they were kids. Perhaps this could’ve been avoided.

“So lemme treat ya!”

“With what money? Last time I checked, you lived in a void with your furbies.” Nightmare scoffed, a sly smirk forming on his face as Fresh’s expression fell.

“Yowch!” Fresh held his hands up, a surprised look on his face. “I’m a lil’ hurt by your words, brah! I’ve got money! How’d you think I got all mah trinkets?”

“I figured you just took them.”

Out of all the things, Fresh looked most offended at that. “Whaaa??? Nightmare, brah, that hurts even more! Stealin’ and breakin’ the law is so uncool yo! I would never! I get my money completely legit-ly!”

“Yeah? How?”

“Well, I use the money from my hosts of course! I take their body right? Then I get access to whatever they have! Real simple.”

“That…is stealing, Fresh.”

“Nuh uh.”

Putting a hand to his temple once more, Nightmare gave Fresh a look of incredible incredulity. “Really. It’s not stealing?”

“Nah! Doesn’t count.” He laughed, and Nightmare could hear the cruelty in his voice. “Anyways!”

Fresh leaned over the table and grabbed Nightmare by his hand. The grasp was gentle, as if he knew that Nightmare wouldn’t yank it away. Nightmare couldn’t deny it, there was something alluring about Fresh. It wasn’t the way he dressed, obviously, but his past, how he operated, made Nightmare want to tear into him and see how he ticked.

“Nightmare, brah, please.” Nightmare was surprised to feel that despite the silver piercing in the host’s bottom lip, Fresh’s lips felt soft as they connected with the back of his hand. When was the last time someone had, sincerely, kissed the back of his hand? Was it Cross? It had to have been, when Cross pledged his allegiance to Nightmare those long seven months ago. His lips twitched as he wanted to smile, but remained stoic. “Lemme treat you tonight. It might be fun.”

Nightmare could see the sinister smile in Fresh’s face from a mile away. More often than not, his own grins held that sort of minacious quality to them.

“Maybe I’ll surprise ya in ways you couldn’t even imagine.”

Oh, how could Nightmare decline such an offer?

[m-jelly]

Can you write another regency era but instead with king! Mike! The fic you wrote with lord mike was fire

Forever you

Pairing: Mike x Fem!Reader

Tags and warnings: Royal AU, King Mike, Lady Reader, dancing, slightly posh speaking, confessions.

With a breaking heart, you attend the grand ball thinking Mike will announce a princess as his bride, but instead, Mike focuses on you and declares his love for you.

It was as if your world was falling apart around you and you were tied up and made to watch. The lack of control over your current situation was heart-wrenching for you. With the title of Lady next to your name, you were neither rich nor poor. As a Lady, you had power and standing in high society, but it wasn't very impactful compared to someone with Countess or Duchess.

The King was a kind and strong man with such elegance about him, even though he was so tall and broad with muscles. It was a grey and cold day when you both met. The hunting event was on and you decided to go for the first time ever. It wasn't a surprise when the King won by a landslide and finished early, but what was a surprise was him coming to see you.

The way he gazed at you in that quiet room lit only by candles was hypnotic. His touch was delicate on your skin when he placed a cloak around you to protect you from the cold. Most nights were long, but that night wasn't. The two of you talked until the sun set and rose. The two of you were like long-lost soulmates reuniting again.

After a touching night, you exchanged letters for weeks. You would go to the palace due to countless invites from the King. Mike and you always stole many moments together to chase the love and passion within your hearts. Your friendship turned to romance and many nights you spent warming his bed.

It seemed like you and Mike would be wedded, but a princess appeared in his palace and the invites to see him reduced. She was there at the palace for two weeks. Two full weeks of not seeing the King and then a ball was announced. Whenever a ball is announced, it was a declaration that an engagement was going to happen.

So, your heart ached as you sat in your carriage on your way to the palace. You tried to refuse, but the gentleman who delivered your invitation insisted you came. The messenger was a sweet friend to you and denying his request was hard, so you came.

As the carriage came to a stop you slipped into your internal darkness. Your awareness of the world around you faded away. A drink was placed in your hand and you were placed in a small corner. The maids and butlers cast their gaze upon you, all seemed saddened to see you in your heartbreaking state.

Mike was a glorious lion as he stood at the top of the grand stairs to enter his hall. He stood alone with no princess at his side. As he descended the stairs he scanned the room for the one person his heart so desperately desired. His heart swelled with love when he eyed the woman he loved.

You noticed the princess who had taken your King from you. Her dress was large, glamorous and decorated with precious gems. You admired her and knew she was the perfect woman to be the Queen. You accepted your loss and knew very well there would be no other man.

Hushed whispers alerted you to a change around you. You cast your dulled eyes up only for them to brighten at the view of the King you loved. As Mike moved closer to you, you felt breathless as if you were in a dream. You longed to dive into his arms and be held by him, but you knew that no good would come of it.

Mike presented his gloved hand towards you and with a cocky smile spoke. "Would you do me the greatest honour and take my first dance?"

You gasped and clutched your chest. "My King, it would be improper of me to do so. The princess-."

"Is none of my concern." He shifted closer and lowered his voice. "I desire no other woman at my side. I will not leave this spot. I will accept rejection of a dance, but I will not remove myself from your presence. A fortnight was much too long to be parted from you."

You hesitated a moment before taking his hand. "I accept."

Mike smiled and guided you to the dancefloor. "I owe you an explanation regarding my absence."

"Indeed you do, my King."

He pulled you close and glided with you across the dancefloor. "The princess invited herself to my palace. I was made aware of her cruel ways towards other women. I removed all of my female staff to protect them from her wrath. Her jealousy knows no bounds. I admit, I should have conversed with you regarding this. It was improper of me to not inform you, however, she arrived with such haste that I was unable to notify you. Please, forgive me."

You welled up at his admission. "So, there is no other woman? I was not used by you?"

He stopped dancing with you. "My darling love, I did not use you. My feelings for you are true. You have captured my heart and soul." He took your hand and showered it in kisses. "You are my Queen. I would rather live a life of endless suffering and pain than be parted from you. I am besotted by you." He smiled and softly said your name. "I love you."

You gasped as tears rolled down your cheeks. "And I you. My love for you knows no bounds. I truly, madly and deeply love you."

Mike pulled you against him. "Forgive me for being improper again, but I must taste your lips again." He crashed his lips against yours causing a joyful commotion within the hall. "Marry me."

You gripped his chest. "Yes."

Mike smiled. "My Queen." He raised his head. "Ladies and gentlemen, I brought you all here tonight to propose to my love and to announce our engagement if she accepted. I am pleased to declare that she has accepted. We are to be wedded as soon as she allows it."

You blushed. "You..."

He chuckled. "I know. I am a pain, but it is one of the reasons you adore me so, is it not?"

You nodded. "It is."

[siriannatan]

Series of Unexpected Occurences

So I decided to write an origin story for fWhip from Jinn & Other Troubles and it's all because Jimmy's No Good, Very Bad Year (Made Better) by TrosesPink has inspired me to come back to this AU.

To say fWhip was at a loss would be an understatement. Yes, he has somehow made it to Stratos safely. He even found the Evermore Academy. And had someone talk to him. All that just to be said 'No, go home kid'.

Well, he was not about to go home after that. Father would be much more than just upset with him. Gem was off, studying magic at the other end of the world the whole year already. And she was just a girl. fWhip was more than aware that Gem, unlike him, was born a genius. Always good at everything she touched. Moving on, what was he to do if he was not going back home? 

What he decided to do was find a job. Practice his magic a bit more and try again next year.

And so the most exhausting time in the whole sixteen years of his life started. He jumped from doing errands to helping at the docks to even more errands to used things stores. He barely had any time to think about practising with how much of his time was taken just by paying for the room he was stuck in. And it wasn't even in a nice inn but some dingy one by the docks. Finding a stable, not overly expensive apartment in the big town was much harder than expected.

Finding a small job helping someone start an inn or restaurant or something like that was possibly the best thing that had happened to fWhip in a long time. The woman in charge - Katherine she introduced herself, was apparently a former adventurer and a mage of some sort. fWhip was not too knowledgeable about the kinds of mages. But that wasn't important. What was important was that she paid well compared to everything fWhip did so far. And not only that. Unlike all the gruff warehouse owners and captains fWhip dealt with so far she was darn nice.

"What is that?" Katherine asked as she caught fWhip and his lunch out the back of her new restaurant. She has just decided they should have a break, rest a bit and eat something.

"My lunch?" fWhip mumbled over his meat pies. They haven't even gone fully cold yet. Thank you nice weather. He was a bit confused why his lunch was an issue. Meat pies were nice even when cold, and filling, while also cheap. Maybe he should have gone somewhere a bit further away with it? "I can move if..."

"No. No. No. I'm not having a young man work on all the hard and heavy things on just meat pies alone, in with you, the stew's almost ready," Katherine stopped the young tiefling and nearly pulled him inside the inn. 

fWhip was left by one of the tables he helped bring in. Actually, it was just him and Katherine doing all the stuff. Well, most of the port freelance workers probably scoffed when a woman asked them even if she was offering good pay. No matter, it meant fWhip's pay was a bit higher and didn't need to see certain people so he was not complaining. But for now, while waiting for Katherine he finished his first meat pie. He was not about to annoy someone who was paying him but he was also not about to waste his already half-eaten pie. Leaving it like that would not be good.

He was barely done with his pie when Katherine walked in with a tray with two steaming bowls and some bread and a jug of juice and two glasses on it. It was a really big tray. "While helping me out don't worry about lunch or any other at-work meal," she announced and left no room to argue. fWhip just nodded as a steaming bowl of stew and a couple of thick slices of bread were placed in front of him along with a cup of juice. "No need to be so polite," she chuckled when he mumbled a thank you.

"I... I'm still getting used to being away from home," it didn't really matter what he said. It wasn't like he'd be much in this part of town anytime soon. Too fancy and expensive for him. "More work than back home," he quickly added, just to avoid having to elaborate too much. He'd hate to lie to her after she fed him. She absolutely did not have to be that nice. "Didn't want to get stuck there," avoiding the truth was not lying. Right?

Katherine seemed satisfied with it so fWhip shut up and focused on the stew. It was really good. Bread and juice too. Actually, he didn't have food this nice since leaving home... But he was going back. Maybe the enchanting shop he walked past needed someone to carry heavy things? fWhip was getting good at moving boxes lately.

After food - Katherine offered him seconds but he politely declined, after the first bowl and the meat pie he was quite full - they moved furniture and boxes couple more hours before fWhip was paid and asked if he can come back the next day. He obviously accepted the offer. Anything to have some time away from the smell of the sea. It got boring very quickly - the smell of rotting fish and fish guts and constant noise did not help.

On his way back fWhip checked a couple of used things stores and even found one useful book. Lucky for him whoever the store got it from and the store staff knew nothing about magical things so it was really cheap. Illusion's weren't something he was ever really interested in but it was the first book he managed to find so he was still very excited. Who knew what would be useful in the future?

The next day he made his way to Glimmer Grove a bit late. Who could blame him, the book was much more interesting than he anticipated. So interesting he brought it along in case there was even the briefest moment to read some more. Somehow there was a chapter on familiar summoning in this one, and while fWhip had no idea what he'd like his familiar to be he was immensely fascinated. Unfortunately, it was rather difficult and expensive to summon one but if he could do that then maybe he would be able to get into the academy. A good option to have just in case.

Katherine did not mind that he was late or that he was reading during his breaks but she put a limit on lunchtime. "No books next to food," she said sternly but with a smile. "Interested in magic? Shouldn't you be in Evermore then?" she asked as fWhip sheepishly set it aside.

"I tried, apparently being able to do magic is not enough... At least it was a good excuse to get to the..." he instantly started stringing together an excuse as close to the truth as he could without sounding as bad as it probably was.

"And you're stuck in town because you don't feel like going home after failing? Believe me, you're not the first to have that happen to them, I know several people who were told no and who are now the pride of Evermore," Katherine instantly cut him. "I have free staff rooms so you can stay here."

"I... I'm very grateful but I can't pa..." fWhip instantly protested. Katherine was already the nicest person he's met since coming to town. She paid well, gave him regular breaks and fed him. He had no real way of expressing how grateful he was to have met her.

"You can pay by occasionally helping with boxes and cleaning, it'll make saving for Academy easier won't it?" he was once more cut short. "And I can ask some friends if they need any help? Recommend you based on how well you worked here? You don't have to agree now. But if you do feel free to bring all your stuff tomorrow."

"I... I... Thank you, it's a very kind offer... I'll think about it," fWhip nodded, staring at the scrambled eggs, bread and vegetables Katherine made for them. She was a really good cook. 

"It's nothing big kid, one less room for me to clean," she laughed and fWhip felt a bit better. There was no saying what she went through as an adventurer. Or.. was she even a human? Or did she retire adventuring very young? She could be an elf, her hair would easily hide the ears and it was hard to say how old elves were.

"Just never call me 'mam, I'm not THAT old," she finished the topic and they finished their lunch before it's gone cold. Unlike meat pies scrambled eggs were not too good cold.

After another round of boxes and furniture moving Katherine said she was nearly ready to open. Just some more cleaning and organising, stocking up and finding at least a cook. Luckily she was in a good spot by one of the main roads through the city and there were already curious customers peering in and asking if it was open. And promising they'd come by when it was. Citizens of Stratos liked a good restaurant and were always eager to visit any new one - as long as it was at least in the Middle Stratos it usually stuck a while and prospered well enough.

On his way back fWhip bought a couple of meat pies. Maybe he could ask Katherine if she had a good recipe for meat pies... for later in life. A memento of her? That sounded lame. Just because he liked them. Yes. He also stopped by the same used-things stores. No more books but he got a well-priced dagger just in case. It was a bit rusty and dull but he could deal with that.

He barely got any sleep while thinking over Katherine's offer. It was very generous and would help him greatly and he did not mind helping around Glimmer Grove if he was ever out of errands around town. And if she ever told him he needed to move he could find another cheap inn to stay at. So feeling only mildly bad with how little he owned at the moment - he just got to the city and travelled light okay - he packed his meagre belongings into his bag. Ate his pies. Read some more about illusions and tried out a couple of simple ones. With shocking success too.

The next morning he paid for his room and went to Glimmer Grove feeling like his life was tuning out to be a bit better. At least there'd be much less fish smell and seagull noise in it. And hopefully, the room Katherine would give him would be on the ground level... Or have curtains so he could not see it was not...

"Decided to grab that room?" Katherine grinned at him from next to a cart full of ingredients and general supplies required to run an inn. 

"If it's still open," fWhip smiled sheepishly. He was suddenly feeling even more awkward with how little he owned. "I was supposed to be at the academy now," he excused himself just so she would not feel too bad for him.

Katherine was fine with the excuse and after quickly showing him the room - ground floor with barely any window, lucky for him, and had him helping unload the cart and then with some errands and picking up more things around the town. And after that she had him helping clean the place as she interviewed potential cooks. In general, a great day even if he didn't get much reading in and all but passed out after it.

[sorcerous-caress]

Ugh, it finally happened! Khal'ian and Kira's saves are fully cooked! So close to finishing act3 with my boy! 😓

Well, it gives me an excuse to finally remake Kira or create Khal'ian's in-lore manic best-friend Issal.

Welp, time to test honor mode with new subclasses!🤗

I'll work on more Wyll/Kira drabbles later tonight, but I have a question.

Do any of your Tav/Durges co-exist? Would they be pre-game friends/foes/lovers? I find it fun to branch out and see the characters I create interact with each other.

-githzerai anon

You can try to downgrade the game version and script extender versions to finish the saves off if you were really close to the end!

Also in the new endgame epilogue, Voss sends a letter that mentions the githzerai canonly in game! I thought of you when i saw it. If you're okay with spoilers lmk and I'll post it.

Also dude, honour mode is fucking brutal. One save file, you can't reload and if you die in the tutorial ship the whole save is nuked. All the rolls are inflated with a higher check number, I couldn't recruit Us because i failed the mutiliate roll despite having advantage. So many other people mentioned failing the Wyll Karlach pers roll and the pulling Gale out of the portal roll too. It's full on sadistic and I'm loving it but I can't go far yet because I'm still waiting on my favourite mod to update.

As for the Tav/Durge question, they definitely share a common dragon theme, I based them on different dragon species for fun.

First Tav was based on a gold dragon, friendly, chatty, noble heritage, extroverted and flirty. Romanced Astarion. Backstory is them being a noble supposed to take over the head of their family soon but got kidnapped, comes back to finding out the previous head got murdered and everyone in their family is a suspect except them since they were far away. Their dream person was a half-elf women. Gets thrown off the ship with a small baby red dragon that serves their family, followed them here. Hoards eggs/gold/gems.

First Durge was based on a red dragon, prideful, rude, arrogant, easily jealous, competitive and loves flattery. Romanced Minthara. They're not native to Baldur's Gate and instead come from a far away land in the east, they don't remember much since losing their memory, they hold a lot of Gortash themed stuff in their inventory not knowing why or who it belonged to. Their dream person was a drow man. Hoards bones/skulls/corpses.

Latest Tav is based on a brass dragon, loves to talk/sing, overconfident, cute, bad at being humble, anime magical girl tropes. Romanced Wyll. Multiclassed into bard, backstory is that they are a famous popstar that recently went solo from their band, too used to only dealing with fans so they tend to be offputting to normal people, they were touring in Baldur's Gate when they got kidnapped. Their dream person was a dragonborn man (mod). Hoards books/art/statues.

How do they relate? I'm not sure, maybe they're the same person but a different dragon lineage each time that drastically alters their life? Maybe they're long lost siblings? Maybe they don't know each other.

Well except two of them. I made a durge high elf guy for Minthara to abuse on a playthrough once, he is friends with my first Tav and i made them his dream person but they got separated ontop of the ship.

I mostly think about how my characters would interact with other people's characters, I think most of my Tavs or Durges would be indifferent to each other.

Khal'ian for example, I can say my first Tav would consider him a friend, maybe get a bit protective.

First Durge would be condcending with him and compares his shortcomings to Laezel a lot.

Latest Durge would be very friendly and think he needs encouragement to get out of his shell, might even be pushy about it.

I try to switch up the companions too on each playthrough to make it like it's an alternative dimension where every shifted a bit. Aka the werewolf Shadowheart au or the younger Gale one, since the more playthroughs you do, the more dialogue and scenes you start skipping so their canon plot gets old quickly and writing your own sounds more interesting.

But i do make them all human, all of my characters except that one high elf guy made specifically for Minthara. I genuinely have the biggest hard on for humans. i really think they're neat.

And my first dnd character was a dragonborn paladin yet here i am in human sorcerer heaven/hell?

What about you anon? Do Kira and Khal'ian know each other? What about the best friend you mentioned? Do any of them co-exist?

First Tav - Gold Dragon

First Durge - Red Dragon

Latest Tav - Brass Dragon