#and thank you to whoever is reading this

[aurosoul]

I got some incredibly kind messages today after venting about my thoughts about quitting art this morning and I just want to say THANK YOU to the people who reached out to me and that I love you all 💖💖💖💖 ;__;

I’m definitely NOT giving up, I’ve just been really struggling with anxiety, imposter syndrome, and hinging my self-worth on my income lately and I’ve been losing sight of what brought me to art in the first place.... life remains incredibly stressful to us all, but this was a good reminder to take a breath and be gentle to myself despite everything

[luxaofhesperides]

We Are Robins meeting to Signal apprehending Danny ; requested by @zylev-blog!

“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?”

Danny gives Duke a tired smile, his head falling back against the wall. He’s sitting up today, which is good. It’s definitely an improvement from the many days Danny was unable to do much but lie down and grit his teeth through the pain as Duke checked on the gunshot wound. It’s a good thing Danny’s a meta with a healing factor, or nothing Duke could have done would have saved him.

As it is, the wound was severe enough to keep Danny vulnerable and unable to move on his own without making it worse. Though Duke has looked, he hasn’t had any luck in finding whoever did this to Danny. He hasn’t brought it up to the rest of the We Are Robin gang, but only because Danny only let him help if he kept it between the two of them.

What’s another secret? If it lets him stay close to Danny and make sure he’s healing well, then he’ll keep quiet and carry on the search by himself. He’s got plenty of practice in doing things on his own.

“Busy out there?” Danny asks as Duke sits down next to him, dropping his backpack onto the ground. 

“Yeah, it’s tough with the cops after us, but someone needs to help Gotham and with Batman gone…”

A pained expression crossed Danny’s face. Eyeing him carefully, Duke opened his backpack and pulled out a few protein bars and sports drinks for him. Once Danny takes them and began eating one, Duke takes out the first aid kit, always kept at the bottom of the backpack, and sets it in front of Danny.

The most he can do is offer supplies and company at this stage of Danny’s healing. He gets twitchy and tense when Duke tries to tend to his wound, and seems to have plenty of practice in patching himself up. 

He didn’t answer when Duke commented on it once, so Duke let the matter drop. 

Metas may have legal protection, but that doesn’t stop people from targeting them. Duke has no intention of pushing Danny into remembering unpleasant things while he’s already wounded, hiding out in the upper corner of an abandoned warehouse taken over by a group of homeless people. Most aren’t inside during the day, choosing instead to be out with the rest of the city, which leaves them alone. 

Duke keeps an eye on the ground floor of the warehouse, making sure no one comes in while Danny tends to his wound. When he peeks back, he can see that it’s much smaller than it was the night Duke found him, crawling down an alley with one hand clutching his side, tears slipping down his face. There had been so much blood that Duke was sure he had just stumbled upon someone dying and froze, horrified. 

And then a shout down the road prompted him to move, hauling Danny up and helping him into the warehouse to hide. 

For a normal person, if it didn’t kill them, the wound would still be raw and bleeding, larger than any gunshot wound he’s seen before. But Danny’s wound is closing up quickly, no longer bleeding, the edges a healing pink.

It doesn’t look like it’s going to scar, either. 

“Think it’ll be all healed up by the end of the week?”

Danny glances up, then continues covering it with new bandage, large enough to cover the entire wound. “Hopefully,” he says. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can figure out a way to get home.”

“Your folks gonna look out for you?”

“Probably. I’m not planning on telling them, though, since they’ll get way too overprotective. The only reason they’re not tearing Gotham apart looking for me is because I came here with my godfather and he told them we’d be gone for two weeks. Can’t believe he tried to kill me on day one…”

“Your godfather tried to kill you?”

“Yeah. Not personally, or anything, but he definitely hired the guy who shot me. Though he also yelled at him for shooting me? Not sure what that’s about, but I never trusted the guy and he didn’t try to help me afterwards when I ran away, so. You know.”

Duke wants to have a conversation with Danny’s godfather. Maybe bring the other Robins along to make sure the message sinks in: Don’t touch Danny.

But Danny, acting so casual about his godfather trying to kill him, would be unhappy about it, and Duke would really rather be able to take care of him than be shut out for trying to take control of the situation.

“Shit, man, that sucks,” he offers, instead of prying for details so he can hunt down his godfather. “You want a hug or something? I can’t really do much else, but if it can make you feel better about all this…”

Danny brightens and shoves the first aid kit away, his shirt (one of Duke’s old ones he offered up to replace the bloodstained one) falling to cover the bandage. “Please. I would love a hug, dude, I don’t remember the last time I felt so lonely.”

Carefully, Duke wraps his arms around Danny, leaning back so Danny could relax fully and not worry about holding himself up. Danny sighs into the hug, going fully limp as he drops his forehead onto Duke’s shoulder.

“Thanks for this. And everything,” Danny says some time later. He doesn’t move to pull away, so Duke stays as he is, watching the weak sunlight slowly move across the warehouse as it spills in from dirty windows. 

“You don’t need to thank me. I mean, I’m a Robin.” He brings up a hand to tap a finger against the R embroidered into his jacket. “It’s what we’re here for.”

.

.

.

It’s been years since he saw Danny. After he was fully healed, Duke helped him get to city limits, watching as he boarded a bus and disappeared down the road, leaving his life just as suddenly as he entered it.

After spending so much time together, quiet hours of stillness just looking out for each other, his life feels emptier without Danny in it. He knew it wouldn’t last, that Danny would go home eventually, but it didn’t make the parting any easier.

Even now, as Signal, taking a break from going on missions with the Outsiders to spend some time with the Bats, his thoughts drift towards Danny, wondering if he’s alright. In his darker moments, he wonders if Danny’s godfather has tried to kill him again, if he’s succeeded. In calmer, happier moments, he remembers Danny’s quiet stories about his family, his town, all his dreams and hopes for the future, remembers the easy company and how Danny didn’t look at him with pity when talked about his parents, just quiet and contemplative. 

Sometimes, he can’t resist the urge to look him up, but there are so many Danny’s out there that he doesn’t know where to start. He never got Danny’s last name or learned when he came from.

It’s not like he can just ask the Bats for help finding a guy he knew for two weeks before he ever joined them. They’re all busy with their own missions, and definitely don’t have time for Duke’s reminiscing. 

“Just caught sight of the truck entering city limits,” Oracle says in his ear. “It’s heading towards the Coventry.”

“On it. Any movement from the mobs?”

“None yet. I expect this to change soon. Red Hood and Black Bat are patrolling nearby if you need backup.”

“Got it. Signal out.”

His comline shuts with a little click, and then he’s grappling over the roof tops, keeping an eye on the roads in search of the truck. He doesn’t have time to think of Danny anymore, not when a shipment of new, experimental weapons is passing through Gotham. Spoiler had heard a few whispers of it and Red Robin helped find more solid details; the mobs are all looking to take the shipment for themselves in an attempt to get the upper hand in the nonstop fight for control of Gotham’s streets. 

It’s passing through during the day, visible and a good move to keep from being ambushed at night, but it’s not enough to stop mobs hoping to take out their competition with new weapons. Duke enters the Coventry just as his comline beeps once and Oracle begins giving him specific directions, along with a brief description of what the truck looks like. 

Apparently, the weapons are being moved in a U-Haul rental truck. That is… certainly a Choice™ to make for moving weapons around the country.

He follows it from the rooftops, but nothing happens. The truck passes through the Coventry without incident and takes a turn that keeps it away from Crime Alley and the Bowery. It gets to the middle of East End then pulls to a stop in the parking lot of a diner. 

Two people get out and stretch, then head in to get something to eat.

It would be the perfect time for someone to break in. Duke pulls the light over himself, manipulating it to make him disappear from sight as he looks down from the edge of the rooftop, tense and prepared for anything.

He almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s just a flicker, a flash of color, a shift in the shadows across the street. But he does see it, even if he can’t find it again, and drops down from the roof, creeping towards the truck.

Duke waits, holding his breath, off to the side of the parking lot. 

A minute passes. And then a figure materializes out of thin air, floating right behind the truck. All Duke can see is white hair and a black body suit; they’re either a meta or an alien, but either way, Duke is ready to take them down.

The figure lifts their hands and a bolt of neon green energy hits the truck, melting the back and leaving a large hole that gives them direct access to the weapons. And then they shoot again, destroying the weapons.

“Phantom!” someone shouts, and the truck driver comes tearing out of the restaurant, a white gun in his hand. His companion follows, her gun also out, and the begin shooting. 

Phantom dodges the blasts, then vanishes from sight. He reappears behind them a moment later, tackling back of them into the side of the truck. 

“No you don’t!” Duke say, rushing forward as he pulls at the shadows around him then sends them racing towards Phantom, restraining them. The driver and his companion collapse onto the ground, groaning weakly, and Duke grits his teeth. “O, send someone to look after the people moving the weapons. Apprehending an attacker now.”

He doesn’t wait to hear a response, tightening the shadow’s grip on Phantom, who struggles fiercely.

“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he says, pulling Phantom closer to him.

Phantom doesn’t answer. They just scream, the force of it making Duke fall back. His shadows dissipate, and Phantom flies up.

“Get back here!”

Duke gives chase, dropping in and out of shadows, throwing some at Phantom in the hopes of catching him again. But Phantom is fast and it takes all he has to keep up as they cross Gotham.

He thought Phantom was flying around blindly, but the way they move across the roofs and then through the streets are too confident, too focused to be anything other than someone with a destination in mind. But where? Where could they be going? If they’ve been in Gotham, then Duke would have heard of them.

A flying, powerful meta with a multitude of powers? Yeah, he would have known about them.

Phantom flies through a wall and Duke curses, going onto the roof and looking around, waiting to see them fly out. But they don’t and Duke finds a broken skylight to drop in from, landing on the support beams of the warehouse, well above the ground.

He knows the warehouse, he realizes suddenly. It’s the warehouse Danny hid in while he was healing. Duke hasn’t been back in years.

“Just listen to me, please,” a voice says behind him, and Duke tense, spinning around to face Phantom, floating just out of reaching distance. “Those weapons are dangerous. No one should have them, it’s why I had to destroy them. Please, you can’t let them get those weapons out.”

Duke stares. Something about Phantom is familiar. The shape of his face, maybe. His voice. Maybe it’s just because he’s in the warehouse again, with someone pleading for his help.

Maybe it’s all in his mind.

“Danny?”

Phantom flinches, floating back a few inches. “What— How—”

“What happened? Is it your godfather again?”

“My— Duke? Is that you?!”

He definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but Danny’s here. Danny’s here in front of him, needing help, and he doesn’t need the Signal. He needs Duke.

He pulls off his helmet and lifts his bare face to Danny.

“Oh,” Danny breathes. “Well. I guess I should have known you’d be a hero. Can you help me one last time?”

“Yeah, of course Danny. Tell me what you need.”

“Those weapons, they were first made to kill me and others like me. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time to explain. But they’ve been changed to affect humans, all types of people, as well. I can survive a few hits from those weapons, but for most people, it would kill them instantly. I need to destroy all of them and stop any further production before the rest of the world gets a hold of them.”

“That’s why you—”

“They have to be destroyed,” Danny says. “And the people making and selling them need to be stopped. I can’t do it on my own. I’ve tried, but…”

“I’ll help,” Duke says, “I’ll help. This is a big enough problem to bring the Outsiders into it. Or the Bats, but they like to stay in Gotham.”

Danny floats closer, looking painfully relieved. “Really? They’ll be able to put an end to this?”

Duke reaches for him. “Yeah. they can do it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Danny’s feet land on the support beam as his hand meets Duke’s. They balance above the rest of the warehouse, drinking in the sight of each other. Duke rubs his thumb over Danny’s knuckles in soothing circles and watches as the tension begins to fall away from Danny’s shoulders.

“Duke,” he whispers, “I’ve missed you—”

The door below is kicked open, and a gunshot rings out. 

Moving on instinct, Duke tackles Danny, wrapping him up in his arms as they fall off the support beam. They hit the ground hard, rolling a bit, and Duke tucks Danny into his chest, bodily protecting him.

“Narrows!” 

The Red Hood stands over him, menacing, a gun pointed at him. 

“Hood?” He loosens his grip on Danny. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Thought you needed back up. You chased after our guy and lost your helmet, I think I’m right to be a little worried about you. So, who’s this?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, and Duke realizes with a sinking heart that all anyone else sees is an aggressor, a meta who attacked a truck full of weapons, attacked two people, and had to be chased down by the Signal. Jason’s seeing a threat and acting accordingly, putting Duke’s safety first. 

And with his helmet off, identity clear, Danny’s even more dangerous now that he has this knowledge.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispers to Duke. He doesn’t have time to ask for what? before Danny’s shooting another beam of green energy at Jason then taking off, flying through the roof and out of sight.

“Shit,” Jason mutters, straightening up from where he ducked to avoid being hit, then puts his gun away and kneels next to Duke. “You alright? Why’d you let him go? I thought you had him.”

“I’m fine. He’s not… He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just needed help.”

“Sure. And what are you not telling me?”

“I knew him. He’s a good person, but he’s been in danger for a long time. This was him trying to protect others from what he went through.”

Jason takes off the helmet and stares at him. Then he sighs and reaches a hand down to help Duke to his feet. “Alright,” he says, “Let’s head back to the truck. You have until then to convince me that they’re the problem, and if they are, then I’ll help you blow up more of their weapons.” He claps a hand on Duke’s shoulder, then pulls his helmet back on. “Grab your helmet. We’re wasting daylight, Narrows.”

There’s nothing else he can do, no way to search for Danny when there are other leads to chase, so Duke grapples up to the catwalk where his helmet landed and grabs it.

Just before he puts it on, he sees a flicker of white just outside the window he’s facing. He ducks his head to hide a smile. It’s almost like he’s stepped back in time; Danny’s here in Gotham, needing help and asking for it in the warehouse. 

And though so much has changed in those years, there’s still one thing that Duke will ensure never changes: he’s Danny’s hero. Above Robin, or Signal, or anything else, Duke is Danny’s hero.

This time, he has the power to actually help Danny. He’s going to make sure no one ever hurts Danny again.

“Let’s go,” he says, jumping back down to Jason, helmet on. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

[lovelycureaestetic]

People with no reading comprehension will keep on saying that "Sebastian doesn't care about Ciel" and that "he only worries about him because if he dies it would be counterproductive for him!" While ignoring that at the very beginning Sebastian acted like this

Uncaring about how in danger Ciel would be because of course he was ultimately going to save him, so why worrying that much over nothing? He even got some kicks out of seeing him struggle.

Then the Campania happened and he almost seriously lost Ciel. That was a turning point (for both of them but we're focusing on Seb here) and how does he start acting whenever Ciel is in danger?

Immediate reaction, instant worry, ready to take action and make sure the little master won't die on him. One could wager that in the last two cases it was an issue that Sebastian himself couldn't demonically solve like a kidnapping and that would be correct, but his attitude has changed. His expressions are different, he's genuinely worried about not being able to help him because illnesses and the likes are not things he can cure as part of the contract.

Another tidbit I noticed is this

In the very first chapters, Ciel gets kidnapped and sent to sleep with chloroform; as per the previous panels I've posted, Sebastian was blissfully unaware of it. Fast forward 100+ chapters and Sebastian can IMMEDIATELY tell Ciel fell asleep. He didn't see that as an issue and would later come to regret it, but this tells us he is now constantly checking in on Ciel's vitals, maybe as a result of the Green Witch Arc who knows, but what's important is that now he is doing it.

To say Sebastian is not fond/does not worry about Ciel is to deny all the development Yana has made him go through. To say Sebastian and Ciel dislike each other is to be stuck at chapter 1 and if that's your case what are you even doing here.

[lkoiii]

RadioStatic Week: Day 4 "You Almost Died"

Did I use this prompt to complete a comic idea I had immediately after I finished the Season 1 Finale? Yes. Yes I did. This is totally what happened after the finale song, right? When I have more time I want to color this.

This is still one of my favorite frames, even though it took forever to draw Val correctly and that inflicted mental damage.

"Baby, when you finally,

get to love somebody

Guess what

It's gonna be me!"

-Vox to his picture of Alastor, probably

[dismas-n-dismay]

Suki - Chimera Falin amv

I present before you: The Chimera Falin Edit.

[vvmorningstar]

Hello beautiful Obey Me community, I need a Solomon expert to tell me if I dreamt reading in an official interview that Solomon wrote fanfiction for TSL??? I am pretty sure I read it. Now, whether it was a headcanon or an official statement I'm not sure akdbsifb

[mangokabuto]

Proof of Usopp and Nami being Luffy’s vice/co captains? I would (genuinely!) love to see your thoughts and evidence, bc big agree

(Context:)

Hello anonymous tumblr-using friend!

As someone with a lot of knowledge of & a great passion for real-life historical piracy, I have VERY STRONG OPINIONS about how the Strawhat crew would fit into an actual golden age crew structure. When I said "I have proof" I was jokingly referring to my knowledge of historical piracy and how the characters slot into those trends, not any sort of "in-anime/manga proof" of Usopp and Nami being ""co-captains"" with Luffy, so if that's what you're here for then sorry lol.

BUT if you want to learn a little about golden age western-world piracy, (and my "au" of sorts for how each crewmate would be recognized in that context,) stick around! :)

(extremely long explanation under cut LMFAO)

First off, as i said in my heated/j tags, "captain" did not usually mean what Oda makes it mean in OP's world. I am ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN Oda is just as passionate about & did plenty of research about historical piracy, and is clearly pulling a little from wakō history, but mostly from golden-age western piracy (specifically mostly the post-spanish succession period, to my estimation).

That being said. Why he puts so much emphases on Captains and First Mates is BEYOND me, because irl they were not as important.

The captain WAS important, don't get me wrong, but they weren't the sole reigning commander of a ship. They were more like a figurehead, most of the time. This is a sortof flimsy metaphor, but think of Captains like the modern-day king or queen of England; They're hyped up as the #1 leader, they're an important charismatic face for the group, and they technically have last-say on important matters, but they are beholden to two other groups (like the cabinet and the prime minister).

During the golden age of piracy, most crews were commanded by a group of three people. These three people were usually the Captain, the Quartermaster, and the Bosun. Each filled a different role on the ship, and all three were democratically elected by the crew. In all important matters, the three would discuss together how to proceed/solve the current problem, and though the Captain COULD overrule the other two at any time, that typically got him handily shoved overboard via mutiny. By technicality there was a heirarchy of power between the three stations, (with Captain usually being the top dog, then the Quartermaster, then the Bosun just above the rest of the crew,) but in practice they held equal sway in decisions that would effect the entire crew.

HOWEVER, outside of "big crew-wide decision-making moments" where you needed to assemble the three leaders, they didn't always have to coordinate. Depending on what situation the crew was currently in, one of them would be de-facto in charge of the crew, and the other two would step back unless the one currently in charge did something that needed to be challenged, like they made a bad decision or (in a more extreme case) broke the articles.

The Captain was in charge during times of battle. The captain's primary role was as a fighter, performer, and military commander! If the crew was attacked or about to attack someone else, the Captain would immediately take charge. (Now, real pirates weren't actually violent in practice as frequently as pop culture would have you believe, but that's a whole other topic. The reason "performer" is listed in the Captain's "jobs" is that part of their responsibility as a captain worth their salt was to scare enemies into surrendering without a fight through theatrics and reputation.)

The Bosun was in charge when the Boat was damaged or needed upkeep. The Bosun was not always the greatest carpenter or shipwright in their own right (in fact, in larger crews, they usually weren't either of those things), but they would be the one to get together with the shipwright and worksmen and assess damage, organize repair teams, and keep the boat running as well as possible. The crew followed their lead during repairs, and they were the go-to authority on any matters concerning the physical boat.

The Quartermaster was in charge the rest of the time. The way the Bosun is in charge of the physical boat, the Quartermaster was in charge of the crew. They were responsible for enforcing the articles, dealing out discipline, and the crew's general well-being outside of battle. In that same way that a bosun didn't have to be a shipwright, a quartermaster wasn't usually a doctor or cook, but they worked closely with them. Being in charge outside times of battle meant that the Quartermaster was also in charge of headings and navigation, and more often than not they were the ship's navigator, or head navigation/deck officer if their crew was large enough to have more than one nav. They also usually handled the crew's finances/pay and cargo. Is this starting to sound familiar yet.

So. After establishing the roles. I don't think I have to persuade you that while Luffy is most definitely the Strawhat Captain, Nami is our Quartermaster and Usopp is our Bosun. At the VERY LEAST this is true on the Merry Go.

You could possibly persuade me that Franky takes Usopp's place as Bosun once they get the Thousand Sunny, but I would be hard to convince. (I could be persuaded that Usopp loses his position as bosun on the Sunny, but Franky does not behave like a bosun as much as a head carpenter, and Usopp functions like his carpenter's mate. It's almost like, post-timeskip, they don't have a bosun anymore, and Zoro fills the newly empty position on the leadership trio?)

Now, these roles are not concrete, and they didn't always make up the "management trio" on a pirate ship. Some very small crews just didn't have enough people that they needed to single out their three favorite guys; they could just all vote on important decisions together. Sometimes the management trio included the surgeon or the first mate instead of the bosun. There were many crews where the Quartermaster was considered the top-dog highest authority instead of the Captain at all times. Even during the golden age pirate crews varied greatly, but the Captain/Quartermaster/Bosun trio was most common.

As for the ship hierarchy, there was a trend you could rely on no matter who the "three leaders" were. Everyone was generally considered of equal importance on a crew, (hence the elected offices and avenue for mutiny,) but there was a chain of command of sorts? Or at least people who would be shown greater respect and responsibility based on what they provided for the crew:

Captain and/or Quartermaster

Bosun and/or Surgeon/Doctor, and sometimes the First Mate

Everybody else, including captain's other mates.

Speaking of Captain's Mates... On larger crews, every important role on the ship had a "mate," or an apprentice chosen by the person in question to replace them if they should die, or otherwise be out-of-commission. Quartermaster's Mate. Bosun's Mate. Doctor/Surgeon's Mate. Carpenter's Mate. Etc. However, the Captain had MULTIPLE MATES, because his job was front-line combat focused. Ergo, he could easily die and need a replacement. Quickly. And his replacement could need a sudden replacement! So, depending on the size of the crew, the captain could have anywhere from two to eight mates, who were ranked by number. That's why the captain's highest-ranking mate is called the First Mate. Because there was usually a Second Mate. And then some more of em.

The First Mate's job is to be a good ass fighter, and back the Captain up on whatever they're currently doing. They hype the Captain up and enforce the Captain's decisions, no matter what that decision is. This is why they were usually not put in the management trio on most crews, cause you could imagine. The conflict of interest. (There's supposed to be three of them so that no one member has too much sway. Which could be sabotaged if two of the three are captain and captain's favorite soldier LMFAO)

I have no idea why, in the world of One Piece, all of the emphasis seems to be on Captains as the end-all-be-all leaders of their ship and the First Mate as the second in command. Especially when Oda clearly KNOWS about the other roles, since he's written characters that fall into them like perfect puzzle pieces!

...Well, okay, I have some idea. This is a shonen series for teens and being the captain/king/etc is wish fulfillment, and wouldn't be as cool for the projecting readers if you were part of a leading council with two other mooks. But. I can still be salty about it LMFAO <3

[rikan-oo]

So I was thinking about creating a loose list of recs for ORV fans or, in other words, "If you liked ORV, you also may like this." I decided to add things less obvious because I think people already read works like Trash of Count's Family, etc.

Princess Tutu

“The beginning of a story is a sudden event; the start, a happy accident, the end, the fate for which it's meant. A story that never ends is a sad fate.”

Let's start with Princess Tutu (PT), anime, not manga because they're different. I watched it about a week before ORV and after finishing both, I can't help but notice their similarities. However, meanwhile, ORV is about the relationship between the reader, the author, and the protagonist, and PT is more about the relationship between the author and their creation: the story and its characters. Don't let the name fool you, don't be like me. It's much darker than I expected from this style and genre. Be ready for angst.

Plot: Ahiru is a small duck in a pond. One day she notices a dancing boy with a very sad gaze. Boy every day goes to dance near the pond and the little duck is completely mesmerized by him. She can't help but notice sadness and loneliness in his dance. She wants to make this boy smile and at that moment a writer Droselmeir appears. He tells her that she could do this by collecting shards of his broken heart but under some conditions. He gives her a magic pendant that can transform her, first into an ordinary human girl, then into the graceful ballerina Princess Tutu, a fictional character from the tale that was doomed for tragedy in the original story.

Later we find out that this city is kinda enchanted by Droselmeir's tale (reverse isekai before it became mainstream) and some characters broke out of the tale like the boy by the lake - Mytho or Raven - the villain of this tale. Tale elements blend interestingly in the city and its residents.

Also, I have no idea wtf is happening with the main characters' dynamic in this complicated rectangle, but there is no straight explanation for this.

I can't help but see some parallels between Mytho - KDJ, Fakir - both YJH & HSY, Ru - HSY, and Droselmeir - Dokkaebi. I love how the story describes characters doomed by narrative and the struggles of being a writer. Also, all of these subtle references to fairytales at the beginning of the episode? Love it. I bet there are more references for the ballet part, but I probably didn't get it. I gently encourage you to check it out. (Definitely not gently, I'm as desperate as Kim Dokja trying to advertise TWSA to other people)

“May those who accept their fate be granted Happiness, may those who defy their fate be granted Glory.”

Miss not Sidekick

It's a much simpler read, just to chill and have fun while laughing at Mc shenanigans. Plot: Typical isekai story, where Mc is a fan of the internet novel of the reverse harem genre. When isekaied decided to invent popcorn and enjoy full time 4d immersion in the story.

There are not so many similarities in themes like with Princess Tutu, but more the role of MC – Latte as reader. I liked how she continued to behave like a spectator of a story inside Isekai world, treating it like she's inside a special 4D theater, not existing in this world as a part of it, until she couldn't.

Until her 4th wall is shattered (*badabums* it's a bad pun, she doesn't have it like kdj) and she realizes she could actually die, (quite shocking I know). Also, MC invents BL for this world and converts other people into it. Overall, the art style is different from other isekai romfant and it's something you need time to get used to, but after a while, you understand it suits perfectly for the narrative and silly tone of the comic.

Inso's Law or My Life as an Internet Novel

I feel like it's more reverse isekai similar to orv, where the story becomes part of your life. But if in KDJ's case, this transition is obvious and life-crashing, then in MC's situation is really creepy. It blends seamlessly into her regular life making her feel insane because everything remains the same except having a whole new friend who behaves like your bestie and a different school, where everything starts to feel like a romantic novel full of clichés. MC like KDJ is also unreliable in her perception of others here and thinks her knowledge of clichés like a reader-outsider makes her more omnipotent than she really is. Too bad they used 3 person POV, so it's really obvious, but funny nevertheless. (One of the cases where she thinks one of her classmates is a girl pretending to be a boy cause of some kind of cliché family drama, when in fact it's just a boy and I find it funny how this classmate looks like Jang Hayoung twin and have similar fate, poor souls) guess she also has similarities in her character to pre-scenario or regular life KDJ. They both seem to have this introverted avoidance type of personality. I'm curious about supernatural events happening in manhwa and I hope we'll get some explanation for it.

Pandora Hearts

Nice little thing with funny and cute tea parties that everyone would enjoy. 😍

SHHH, nothing about the plot. Let it be a small surprise for you.

It's all vibes and similar tropes now, folks.

Like dynamic between the main trio: Gilbert - Oz - Alice YJH - KDJ - HSY. Also this time loop thing? Daddy issues? Self-sacrifice as a form of love? Ugh. (Also, I need this scene with Oz and Brake "Where in the world are you?" But with KDJ. Maybe I even draw it).

It's all for now, maybe I'll write more. Please share the recs if you have them!

[taste-thewaste]

Listen this is silly as hell but I’m filled with so much love for all of you right now. My dash is filled with lovely people who are all going just as nuts as I am over two dudes leaning back to back at 11:30 on a Wednesday night. I’m grateful to have met so many amazing people here who make me feel like I’m not alone. Life is so hard but yall make it infinitely better

[harvestmoth]

more rejuv things but its. its just this guy again, im sorry shes all i can draw

[cloverconsolass]

I wanted to make a ducktales undertale au but like what would the name of the au even be... Ducktale????? Undertales????? The only option rlly left is underduck but like 😬.

Also man it is hard to place ducktales charaters in the undertale characters places and have it make sense story wise. 😮‍💨

[ghoultrifle]

Hello! Can I request 108 from the smut prompt thing? Any pairing!

108: “come to my room there’s this thing i wanna try”

Dew/Phantom virginity kink with a bit of praise thrown in for good measure (2.2k words)

Hello anon, thank you for the request! I transmasced your Dew for you (clit, cunt, tiny dick, cock used), hope that’s ok! Also an homage to the sexual awakening that was the sex workers in GTA V. (and while I refer to Phantom as young, he is of course a ghoul of age)

“Hey sweetie, want a ride?” Phantom overheard from the TV’s speakers. Dew was playing a video game about stealing cars, he thinks. “Fuck yeah I do!” The fire ghoul responded in anticipation as he pressed the controller and an uncanny woman with a robotic walk climbed into the car on screen. There was some shuffling as the woman climbed atop the character Dew was controlling and they started to moan. The camera cut to a view of the car rocking while the screen continued to emit the most egregious sounds. Phantom was otherwise occupied trying his best to read The Very Hungry Caterpillar, “He ate how many oranges on Friday?!” But he never found out what else the creature ate as he began to focus on the lewd sounds now blaring in the room. The quintessence ghoul shifted in his seat. Looking down he could see, and feel, his trousers beginning to tent. Phantom was very new to his topside vessel and wasn’t exactly in tune with all the appendages. Unlike the others, he was the only male spawned in his summoning so there was no one else to experiment and learn with. 

Sure his dick had kicked up in the morning, and sometimes it was wet but it never happened during the day and it never felt like this. The idea of sexual organs being one and the same with organs excreting waste was not one that existed in the pit; sex didn’t involve specific parts and it sure as hell didn’t involve the piss organ. Phantom couldn’t decide if what he was feeling was pain or pleasure, surely his brain got fried during his summoning because his body must be telling him something’s wrong yet he wants the feeling to continue.

The nervous ghoul’s voice betrayed him as he half-moaned half-hissed when his hand brushed over the sensitive, clothed cock. The sex scene long gone, Dew looked over from the tank he was driving into traffic to see a whimpering, dishevelled Phantom looking horrified at his very noticeable erection. The older ghoul knew the other had been struggling to adjust topside but thought someone must’ve shown him the ropes of his new vessel by now, clearly he was mistaken and what a beautiful mistake it was.

Dew was the one shifting in his seat now, feeling a damp spot starting to form; he so desperately wanted to show Phantom the time of his life, show him just how much fun human bodies are, work him all the way up and watch him blissfully come down. “Hey Ant, you OK?” he asked with just a tinge of an ulterior motive. The quintessence ghoul whimpered in reply, covering his eyes in embarrassment and pointing at the bulge, he sulks, “‘m I dying, Dewy? It feels so weird.” Dew shudders at the nickname, no longer able to debate the ethics of what he’s about to do.

“Come to my room, there’s this thing I wanna try.” Dew offered, grinning at the new summon. Phantom was confused, Dew closely guarded his room as a temple for lovers and nothing else. In Phantom’s first days topside, he had accidentally entered the fire ghoul’s room (Swiss was not the best at teaching him how to read) and was met with a ferocious roar to get out! So why Dew would invite him to his room was a mystery, perhaps Aether left a healing remedy there?

Phantom nervously followed Dew to his room, wincing with each step providing the friction he felt so guilty about enjoying. The fire ghoul’s room was a sight to behold, dark walls illuminated by candles the ghoul no doubt lit with his magick, and a large bed that carried a sense of grandiose with its ebony headboard; red sheets contrasting with the dark wood. Dew asked the quivering ghoul to lock the door behind him, now Phantom was really worried, scrunching his eyes in concern: Was he possessed? Was Dew about to perform an exorcism? What was so bad that he had to be locked in a room?

Upon opening his eyes he was met with a stark naked fire ghoul stepping into a harness of some sort. I hope we’re not about to go rock climbing, Phantom thought to himself, still scared of heights after his summoning went awry. His eyes went wide when he saw Dew attach what looked like a dick to the harness, it looked so realistic; perhaps they were meant to be detachable and that’s why Phantom’s is feeling so odd. The young ghoul’s cock was still kicking in his trousers, forming a barely noticeable wet spot at the front. Whatever Dew was about to show him, he hoped and prayed to Satan below that it would fix his problem.

“What are you waiting for, baby bat? Clothes off and come over, need to show you a good time.” Phantom only tilted his head in response, prompting Dew to explain. “Has this really never happened before, bug?” He shakes his head, tears forming as the worry builds, “You’ve never hooked up with anyone topside, or even tugged yourself off?” Phantom gives another look of bewilderment and Dew can only respond with a look of hunger tinged with sympathy, tonight is going to be mind-blowing for the young ghoul.

Dew walks over and waves vaguely at Phantom’s boner then back at his strap, bobbing from the movement, “This is what happens when human vessels are horny and they want to make love. It’s completely normal and I’m going to take care of it for you, if you don’t mind?” he asks lovingly, gently cupping Phantom through his trousers as his own strap knocks into the taller ghoul’s thighs. Phantom nods as he moans into the touch, a sense of relief at the friction and Dew finally telling him everything’s alright. He also feels a hint of apprehension; what if he’s not good enough, what if he doesn’t know what to do, what if this is some big joke by Dew to rile him up and leave him high and dry?

The fire ghoul can sense his worry and reaches up to kiss Phantom, neck craning up as he tenderly strokes him through his trousers, determined to make his first orgasm his best. Phantom nearly doubles over at the stimulation, Dew catching him and guiding him towards the bed, “Undress and lay down for me, honey, on your back. Want to see your beautiful face.” The fire ghoul whispers as he positions himself at the bottom of the bed, popping open a bottle of lube and warming it with his ever-fiery palms, the last thing he needs is to scare the newbie away.

As Dew slicked up a finger and slowly teased Phantom’s exposed ring, the younger ghoul mewled, impatient and once again confused that his other waste organ was being used for sex. Confusion quickly melted into pure desire as Dew let a finger slip in, curling it and exploring the walls of the writhing ghoul. It wasn’t long before Phantom was a whimpering mess as Dew had two, then three fingers inside him, scissoring and occasionally brushing just past his prostate. The quintessence ghoul keened under the touch whining for more as he pushed back into the fire ghouls hot fingers. Dew could feel his own slick running down his legs as he took in the sight before him, writhing like a wild beast to be tamed, for Dew to own. He not-so-gracefully ground his dick against the mattress, anything to get some friction on his rock-hard clit.

“Such a good boy for me, Ant, taking my fingers so well, aren’t you hmm?” Dew whispered into his ears. Phantom cried out as Dew realised he’d found exactly what makes the new bug tick and boy was he happy to indulge. He pulled out, the young ghoul whining at the cold air now hitting his hole. “Gonna put my cock in you now darling, be a good girl for me and take it, yeah?” Phantom nodded like a puppy as Dew lined his sizeable cock up with the winking hole and pushed in inch-by-inch. When he bottomed out he reached forward to pull Phantom into a tantalisingly hot kiss, moving down to mark the young ghoul as his.

Dew begins to thrust into Phantom at a steady pace, his own cunt dripping now as the toy rocked against his tiny dick. The quintessence ghoul looked down at Dew, moaning as the cock hit his prostate over and over again, sweat running down the fire ghoul’s face, silky blond hair sticking to it, looking thoroughly fucked out. Phantom is unsure what to do with his hands, previously lying by his side, he’s too pent up to keep still now.

Dew thinks Phantom is just being a good boy for him, waiting for permission to touch himself, until he remembers, he’s never touched himself, he doesn’t know how to do it. The thought has him thrusting even faster as Phantom cants his hips up so Dew hits the spot that makes him feel so fuzzy inside.

The fire ghoul grins as he sputters out between moans, “Ah fuck, Phant you know you can touch ahh your dick, right?” Phantom begins to poke himself exploratively almost as one would knead focaccia, and yeah it feels alright but, “What’s all the fuss about, Dewy? Doesn’t feel as good as you do.”

“Oh baby bat you really are clueless, aren’t you?” Dew grunts staving off his orgasm in the pursuit of Phantom’s own, “Here, like this. Put your hand over mine OK?” Dew asks so sweetly one could forget he was balls deep in the younger ghoul, as he clasps a fist around Phantom’s weeping cock, applying just the right amount of pressure to make him whine a litany of ghoulish expletives. Phantom’s eyes glaze over as Dew guides his hand over his own, fist moving up and down in time with the fire ghoul’s thrusts. 

Now Phantom gets it, this is what the piss organ was really made for, the piss bit was just an accessory (it was, in fact, not just an accessory, as he later found out in a very wet session with Rain). He could feel something building, the pleasure increasing and he kinda did need to pee, why are humans so weird? he thought. Looking down he could see his cock continually leaking a slick, whitish fluid as both of their hands worked him up and down, “Fuck Dew, stop, needa aahhh, needa pee.” Phantom hurriedly said, worried for his bladder. “It’s alright baby, you’re not gonna piss yourself, just keep going and I promise what’s coming is so much better.” Dew hinted lovingly as he continued to jackhammer into Phantom, close himself.

It doesn’t take much, Dew’s surprised the new ghoul has lasted this long with the pressure of two hands stroking his cock and a dick in his pretty little ass. “You’re nearly there my brave boy, you can take it from here, just keep going.” The fire ghoul encourages as he cautiously removes his own hand from Phantom’s dick, instead placing the quintessence ghoul’s nipple between his finger and thumb deftly rolling it beneath them.

Phantom feels it, he’s going to piss himself. He decides to trust Dew, why would he lie to him after being so tender all evening? So as the older ghoul pinches his nipple, he continues to stroke himself, gasping at the feeling of his own cock beneath his calloused fingers. Almost in an instant it hits him, divine pleasure. Phantom scrunches his eyes shut as he writhes and shouts, cum spurting from his spent cock onto his stomach as he works himself through it, Dew still thrusting albeit at a slowed pace. The fire ghoul eventually slows to a stop, as does Phantom’s hand, overstimulation quickly setting in as the younger ghoul whines.

“You did such a good job for your first time, such an amazing fuck,” Dew giggled as he pulled out, “stay there, I’ll be right back” he promised as he walked over to the bathroom undoing the harness as he walked, quickly reappearing with a wet rag in his hand.

“Mmm that was so good, thanks Dewy.” Phantom called out. “See, bug, you didn’t piss yourself, huh?” Dew chuckles as he brings a washcloth to Phantom’s midriff, “Although if you’re into that I’m sure Rain would indulge.” He smirks. The new ghoul’s interest is piqued, but that’s a thought for another time.

Once Dew had delicately cleaned every inch of his and Phantom’s body, he joined the quintessence ghoul in bed, curling himself around Phantom's back. Suddenly a realisation hit the inexperienced ghoul, “Dewy, you didn’t spurt out the white stuff, did you not get the good feeling like I did?” He asked worriedly, how could he have been so selfish? “Oh bug, my anatomy isn't quite the same as yours, but no I didn’t have an orgasm. That doesn’t matter though, I got to see you have your very first and that means so much more to me than you could ever imagine.” Phantom can feel the older ghoul smiling into his shoulder, “You can always pay me back another day, hmm? Let’s call it a date!” He continues, genuinely enamoured by the younger ghoul’s self awareness, “But I’m sleepy now and I’m sure you must be too.” Phantom can only manage a hum of approval and a nod before he’s dozing off with Dew’s arms wrapped around him, his personal hot water bottle.

Just felt like putting winking hole in there to piss people off :) /lh

Speaking of piss, phantom is definitely into it and will find that out another time but for the minute let’s just revel in the bliss of him getting the piss/pleasure wires crossed during his first time and how that shapes his entire sexual identity for the rest of his life.

Also the tenses are almost certainly all over the place but just roll with it ok?

(requests are open if you want more or if you have any other ideas!)

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Lovesong (Sparrow/Nicky) mood board... web weave... thing. Happy V-Day! 💕

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (missing sources will be added as they are acquired, sorry about that!)

[mothwingwritings]

Save The Date

F!Reader X Jean Pierre Polnareff

Today is my birthday!!! Yaaay! To celebrate, I wrote this self-indulgent, out of left field, Polnareff-kidnaps-you-on-your-bday-and-tries-to-force-his-love-on-you story because why not? I’ve been wanting to write more Jojo and I love Polnareff’s himbo ass sooo here it is. :D I decided to go back to my roots with this one, it was therapeutic loool.

This was a bit rushed because I want to get it finished by today, but I hope you enjoy!!! Thank you for reading and for being here! Love y’all~ ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Warnings: Kidnapping, imprisonment, reader is restrained this whole fic, forced/nonconsensual touching and kissing, brief mentions of sex, delusional Polnareff, probably horrible butchering of French pet names (I am sorry any French speakers, forgive my google translate indiscretions (；´∀｀))

Everything was perfect.

From the varying balloons and streamers that dotted the room, to the bows he had placed so lovingly in your hair, Jean Pierre Polnareff had worked hard to make this presentation immaculate. It was what his baby deserved after all-it wasn’t like it was your birthday every day.

It took weeks of planning and organizing to get everything just right. He’d spent countless hours calling the best caterers and bakers in town, and spent all his down time consulting with party planners to make sure this soiree would go off without a hitch. He was even able to score the perfect dress for you from the fancy boutique down the street-the very same dress you had been casting wistful (yet furtive) glances at for quite some time. The moment the ornate frock had gone on sale he could barely conceal his excitement and ended up purchasing it right away. He was sure you would be thrilled to receive the gown as a gift, and also be touched by his intuitive nature, his knack for picking up on the things you desired.

It was just your style, and he knew as soon as you donned it you would look nothing short of gorgeous. Envisioning you in it made his heart flutter, the smile that would engulf your face as you twirl around in it, giggling in sheer delight as the fabric swirls prettily around you, was sure to be a sight for sore eyes. It was hard waiting to see the dream become a reality.

When he finally got the chance to slip it on your body, he needed a moment to compose himself before he proceeded with the rest of the party setup. He had been correct in his assumption-you looked breathtaking, exactly like a princess in your new frilly, satin, dress. He wished he could have arranged to also have someone do your hair and makeup to really complete the look, but it was too risky to chance it. As much as he would have loved for you to wake up to a complete makeover, he couldn’t trust anyone to not be suspicious of the arrangement he had currently setup for you, and he dared not muck you up with his own mediocre skills.

But at the same time it didn’t really matter that he couldn’t have a cosmetologist stop by, you always looked perfect and ethereal, dolled up or otherwise.

Everything was splayed out before you, not a single item out of place. The table was neatly set with his finest dishes and cutlery, set at the ready to be topped with the feast that he was preparing for you. Vibrant bouquets comprised of only the fullest and brightest blooms of your favorite flowers sat on each end of the table, and fragrant candles cast flickering light over the scene, exuding a very romantic aura. Dinner (one of your favorite meals) was nearly done cooking in the kitchen, and its scent had begun to enticingly fill the room. He could practically hear your stomach rumble in anticipation.

The centerpiece of it all was an elaborate cake, decadent and rich, your name and a sweet birthday message sprawled on its surface in a pretty, curving script. It was far too large for just two people to consume, but that just meant there would be more to look forward to in the future. Maybe you would want to freeze some of it to share with him again on your next birthday, like some couples do with their wedding cake. The correlation made him blush as he fixated on it, giddy as he fantasized about all that lay ahead for the two of you.

With everything assembled, all he had to do was wait. He parked himself opposite you at the table, dressed to the nines to try and match you. As impressive as his finely tailored suit was, he didn’t hold a candle to your radiance. He sighed dreamily as he took you in, his eyes roving over your peaceful face while slumber still claimed you. You had a habit of incessantly frowning or shooting him questionable glances while you were awake. Whenever you noticed that his attention was turned your way, a grimace inevitably followed. This moment of peace where he could drink you in without any backlash was bliss, and as much as he was excited for you to wake up, he couldn’t help but relish this serene alone time he was sharing with you.

No kicking and screaming, no crying, no unnecessarily hurtful words flung his way when all he’s trying to do is show you love. Right now there was just you, him, and this lovingly crafted display of his affection that he prepared just for you, the love of his life. A small mountain of presents towered behind him, waiting patiently to be picked open by your delicate fingers. Most of them were little things he had picked up for you here and there that he thought you would like, trinkets and baubles he felt exuded a very ‘you’ aura and thus needed to be brought home to you. He used to try and give them to you the moment he purchased them, but you would always turn them away, telling him that he was spending way too much money on you. Silly girl, no amount of currency could ever be a waste on you.

The gift pile was a veritable array of goodies sure to delight you, teeming with big things, small things, and one very important thing that had been weighing heavily in his pocket for the past week. He had always planned on presenting it to you on your birthday (there was no greater gift than a perfectly cut rock signifying your eternal union, after all), but carried it around with him as a good luck charm of sorts, keeping it near till the moment he could give it to you. He kept it in his breast pocket as close to his heart as he could, childishly hoping that the placement would infuse it with the immense love he felt for you, each heart beat coursing through it making it shine more dazzlingly.

Though he enjoyed carrying it around with him, the time was soon approaching for it to go to its intended home, sitting prettily on your ring finger. Musing on it made him glance down at your hands as they rested daintily on the chairs arm rest. He tried not to focus on the straps he had placed around your arms, holding you in place to prevent you from bolting the moment you woke up. You were such a jumpy, shy thing, inclined to run and hide the moment you spotted him. He knew this setting would be overwhelming for you, that you would not take all the extra attention so easily, hence why the sedation and extra restraints were needed. As much as he wanted to do a more natural approach, there was just no way to keep hold of you otherwise. It was a necessary measure, but it was one he hated nonetheless.   

Knowing you would be upset when you awoke filled him with dismay, but ultimately the drugs and confines were all just a means to an ends. After the initial shock wore off, you were certain to be pleased by all his effort.

Hesitantly, he reached out to grasp your hands, holding them gently in his own. His thumb slowly grazed your knuckles, tracing small circles over your soft skin. Were they not strapped down, he would have chanced giving your hand a kiss, his lips yearning to make contact with you in any way they could. It truly was a shame that you were so adverse to touch, for he constantly longed to handle you tenderly, treating you so lovingly you would become putty in his hands, melt at his ministrations. He could clearly picture the expressions you would make while he busied himself, running his fingers gingerly across your flesh, memorizing every inch of you in faithful reverence, kisses following where his fingers once tread.

It was his most avid desire, but he had yet to act on the fantasy. His dream would come true someday, but first you had to get used to him. Ease into your new life.

It was a torturous process, waiting for you to warm up, but he knew it would be worth it in the end. Besides, with how bashful you were he figured he would be your first time for so many things, and that was exhilarating in its own right.

Suddenly, you stirred. Polnareff perked up, his eyes darting to your face as he watched your own slowly blink open. You scrunched your face in discomfort, groaning as your head gradually rose from its lulled posture. The after effects of the heavy drugs made your movements sluggish and groggy, another small groan slipping past your lips as you rotated your shoulders in an attempt to stretch.

Your gaze eventually landed on Polnareff, his face lighting up when you didn’t immediately look away. Still heavily sedated, confusion dominated your features. At this point, you were unsure where you were, what was going on, and probably perplexed by Polnareff’s presence, maybe even so bewildered you didn’t yet fully remember who Polnareff was. A warm smile graced his lips as he watched you come to, your befuddled state too cute to resist.

“Ma chérie,” Polnareff purred, his voice drawing you further from your hazy state, “I’m glad you are finally awake. It wouldn’t do to have you sleep through your whole party now, would it?”

Disorientation was giving way to realization, a look of fear and agitation morphing your lax expression into a sharp scowl. You began to pull against your bindings, your tugs becoming sharper the moment   you felt resistance, alarm mounting when you realized how trapped you truly were. Your eyes locked onto Polnareff’s, the haze that had clouded them gone, replaced with resentful animosity. It was painful being at the end of your enmity, but he reminded himself it was to be expected. You would be filled with contentment very soon, he just had to get you there.

“Jean what the hell,” Your words came out listless and slurred. As the final dregs of the drugs wore off, you struggled to get your baring’s. “Where am I? What is all this? Did you… did you fucking drug me?”

 Panic was starting to course through you, wide blown eyes filling with tears that you tried desperately to blink back. Your breathing grew labored as you started to thrash, trying your hardest to free yourself from the man who had imprisoned you, despite your compromised state.

Concerned you would hurt yourself, Polnareff gripped your hands tightly to try and sooth you, but it only caused your struggling to grow in intensity. Noting this, he quickly relinquished his hold, instead opting to cup your cheeks in a manner he hoped you would find more reassuring. Your skin was moist from your freshly fallen tears, his thumb easily sliding across its delicate surface, trying to wipe them away as best he could. You attempted to recoil from his touch, but the restraints and his firm hold kept you in place.

“Please amoureuse calm down,” he shushed you, worry reflected in his eyes, “You’ll end up hurting yourself if you keep pulling like that-“

“Fuck off,” you seethed between clenched teeth, “Let me go NOW Polnareff, or I swear I’ll-“

He clamped a hand over your mouth, halting any further commentary. A deep frown etched itself into his face as he stared you down, patience waning at the immediate vehemence you directed his way. Today was not supposed to go this way, he expected some backlash sure, but you weren’t supposed to recover from the medicine he had given you so rapidly. It was supposed to take time, fester a bit so that you would slowly come around, giving him plenty of time to explain things to you and have you get used to the arrangement naturally.

All the extra precautions were to help you see this for what it was, a true celebration to exhibit his unwavering dedication to you, and not whatever horrific falsity you had concocted in your anxiety addled brain. He cursed himself for not giving you the larger dose as he originally intended, he was just so concerned you may sleep too deeply and miss out on your special day altogether.

“You need to be quiet now, (Name),” His voice was low, a serious edge to it that froze your thrashing, granting him your full regard, “I know you are upset and confused, it’s only natural with how you woke up, and I don’t blame you for it. But there is no need for your ire ma cherie, look around you,” he released his hold, sweeping his hand across the room to show off his handiwork, “This is all for you bella. I worked so hard to make everything perfect for you because you deserve nothing less. Each decoration, accessory, snack, present-they were all assembled lovingly with you in mind. I’ve been preparing this for months, so please don’t be-“

“I don’t want any of this,” you once more cut him off, your voice choppy as you forced it out through shaky sobs, “I never wanted any of this. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t feel for you this way Polnareff? What you are doing is wrong, this entire ‘party’ is wrong! Please, if you really care about me at all just let me go and-“

Swiftly, he slammed his hand down on the table before you, rattling the dishes so violently it was surprising that none of them broke. Startled by the sudden upset, you lurched in your restraints, instantly shutting up out of fear. Your body quivered in distress, worried that if you said another word it would only further enrage him, and the assault next go around may not stop at just a whacked table.

“Stop it,” He annunciated each word, his eyes holding a sharpness that sent chills down your spine, “You don’t know what you are saying mon cœur, you are just blindly judging things before you even try them.” He took a shaky breath before continuing, “I have been patient, I have been kind, I have given you nothing but love, yet you constantly keep me at arm’s length, turning away from me in disgust even though I worship the ground you walk on. Please for one minute stop being so damn ungrateful and just be satisfied with all the hard work I have put in to meeting your lofty, unreasonable standards, or else you may actually have something to cry about.”

Tears continued to pour down your cheeks as your panic-stricken eyes drank him in. Your bottom lip quivered, sniffles punctuating your breathing, but you didn’t speak another word. He felt momentarily guilty for going off on you (on your birthday, no less), but seeing the success his rare instance of harshness awarded him quickly overshadowed any negativity he felt, instead washing him in a feeling of victory.

Now that he got his point across, hopefully you could proceed as planned and things would be smooth sailing from here on out.

In the other room the oven started to noisily beep, signaling that dinner was ready to be served. He rose to his feet, hovering over you before making his way towards the kitchen.

“Ah, perfect timing,” he forced a smile, doing his best to hide the hurt your brusque behavior had inflicted upon him. He squared his shoulders, composing himself before continuing. “Here is how the night will progress, amour. I will prepare our meals and then we will enjoy them peacefully in each other’s company. Once we are done, we can dig into this cake I ordered especially for you from the gourmet bakery down the street, the one that’s so popular it has a wait list.”

He sighed dejectedly, hanging his head in defeat before continuing, “You may not care, but I think it’s important that you take into consideration just how much of myself I poured into this celebration before you make another snide, thoughtless remark.”

His eyes flicked down to the cake, a brief look of sadness wavering within them before he directed his attention back your way. “It’s lovely though, isn’t it? I am sure it will taste just as good. Don’t worry, if you haven’t calmed yourself in time to be let loose I will gladly feed you chérie. Even when you are being particularly… bratty, I would not want you to miss out on such a delicacy. Then, once our bellies are full you can start unwrapping this mound of presents behind me, and we will just pray that it doesn’t take us through the entire night.”

He chuckled, his demeanor beginning to soften as he spoke, appreciative of the obedience you were displaying and the lack of unwarranted commentary as he got through the itinerary for the night. “Finally, we will end the party with a gift that has been a long time coming, one that is a truly significant mark of our eternal bond. I know you will love it ma chérie, just as much as I will.”

He saw a shiver course through you at his words, a small, sad whimper tumbling from your lips as your shoulders sagged. The gravity of his allusion bore down on your small frame, shrinking you down in a poor attempt at hiding from your inescapable fate. He tutted when he saw your attitude shift, his hand again finding your cheek to give it a gentle stroke. This time, you didn’t flinch away. 

“I know this is a lot to take in ma beauté and I am sorry it frightened you at first,” he leaned down, planting a lingering kiss to your forehead before proceeding, “But you will come around very soon, I know you will. You are my sweet girl, and after you experience what a great time we are about to have you will be so overcome with joy that you will barely be able to stand it. In fact, you may already feel a little silly for giving me such a hard time, am I right?”

Suddenly, his expression turned bashful. A rosy hue illuminated his cheeks as he started to fidget uncomfortably, a slightly embarrassed looking smile gracing his lips. Your body turned cold as his hand slid from your cheek to your shoulder, idly toying with the thin strap of your dress. His roving eyes fell to your chest, a hungry look flashing through them before they found their way back to your gaze.

“And then, after you have finished going through all your gifts, to thank me for what a gracious lover I have been maybe… maybe I can unwrap something too?”

You shudder at his insinuation, a look of pure dread donning your features.

“Polnareff,” you choked out, strained words struggling to form one final, soft plea, “please.”

Before you could utter another word, his mouth aggressively claimed your own. He pressed hard against you, as if to engrain the scorching feeling of his lips on to your flesh. You whined, squirming against him until he pulled away, staring at you with longing, love struck eyes.

“Happy birthday, ma chérie. Let’s make this one to remember.”

[allyheart707]

Here are some flowers cause you are very cool ^^

Thank you! You are very cool as well! Your panel was yellow and I thought it was cute- so I attempted yellow as well!! :DD

[forgottencomic]