#and my muse Page done and my rules

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Prescription For Pleasure

Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.

You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.

And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.

But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no. 

“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.”  Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne. 

Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.

But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”

Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”

“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you. 

“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder. 

“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”

“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”

You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.

“Yes?”

“So, you must have heard about…the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.

“I am aware of it, yes.” 

“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.” 

Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”

“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.

“There appears to be a problem.”

“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.

“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.” 

It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”

There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.

“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself. 

“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”

A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you. 

“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”

With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence. 

And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.

The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You’d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session. 

“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy. 

“Yes.”

“Preference for the doggystyle position still?” 

Your face burns. “Yes.”

“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”

You nod your head.

“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy. 

“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.

“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go. 

“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”

You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office. 

Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit. 

The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air. 

His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”

“The sensors are-”

“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”

His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks. 

Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic. 

Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”

“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.

The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words. 

“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”

Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled. 

“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.

“Good girl. Take a breath.”

You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”

“Yes…” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it. 

“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur. 

Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.

“Zayne…” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body. 

With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion. 

“I…I didn’t…I wasn’t in control…” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting. 

“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”

He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.

“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading. 

So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.

“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”

“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal. 

“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”

You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”

“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”

“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”

Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected. 

“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”

“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat. 

“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.

“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”

One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?” 

Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin. 

“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”

Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out. 

“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.

“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him. 

“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment. 

“I just had to be sure.”

Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat. 

Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again. 

“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.” 

The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision. 

Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well. 

The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity. 

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom. 

“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation. 

He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream. 

Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips. 

“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”

Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke. 

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”

The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm. 

A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups. 

Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.

“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation. 

“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly. 

“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body. 

“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff. 

“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.

“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes. 

“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss. 

“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies. 

“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.” 

support banner by @/ cafekitsune @theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @actuallysaiyan

[deificdeceit-a]

Nevermind I’m alone so I’m gonna watch don’t hug me I’m scared :)

[penelopesbridgerton]

— GIF PACK —

şükrü özyıldız, #577 gifs, ruhun duymaz episode 2 (2023)

(☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ click on the source link below to find the gif page. all gifs included were made by me and are size 268 x 170. please reblog this post if these are of use to you. content warnings include: fighting, hospital setting, food, eating/drinking, partial nudity, guns. ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜)

note: this gif pack is split into 2 pages

TERMS OF USE:

if you do not agree, do not use my gifs. anyone i find using my gifs while breaking my rules WILL get blocked.

this fc is turkish, please name your muse accordingly

reblog the original post if you save any, or intend to use these gifs

do not claim as your own or upload to any gif hunts

do not edit any gifs without asking permission first

any approved editing can only be done for personal use

do not use to rp as the actual celebrity

do not use my gifs to rp themes like non-con, incest, or abusive relationships

[nikrouz]

"Muse with Aquamarine Scales" (Full Comic) 28-page long self contained comic about a bird who started seeing flying fish

Oops, reached the limit of images per post with the last page. Guess i'll have to add Afterword in text form: Been a while since I've done something in comic form. So yeah, initially "Muse" started out as a self-proposed challenge to do a short comic story within 2 weeks of production. Not 2 weeks straight, just a total of 2 weeks' worth of free days, majority of which I could spend on it. And as far as writing and storyboarding got, I didn't really have much problem with that, finishing up both at around a week. I already sketched down character designs and had a story structure ready from the conceptual step of the process. But as I moved on to sketching, I slowed down my work on it paradoxically enough 'cause i didn't want to waste any free days I had when I felt like I wouldn't do much progress with, so those days wouldn't count to the arbitrary 2 weeks limit I gave myself. The limit being my way of trying to handle my perfectionism issues, going with more concept-arty quality than properly cleaned arts. And even then, in the end I ended up having some specific parts cleaned up, such as the final page. Easy to say that I failed my challenge in terms of the rules I gave myself, firstly I extended production time to 3 and then 4 weeks and around week 3 when I was around halfway into finishing the comic, I lost count of how many days I've given to the production of it. And don't get me wrong, I'm glad I gave more time and attention to a story which I was interested to write for a while now, had this idea for years. Don't think I've ever been as excited when finishing work on a comic before. This was an enjoyable rest from the exhaustive production of ELoNR's second chapter. Thanks for giving it a read. Hope I'll still be around to do more Started work: Somewhere near the start of 2024 Finished: 7th of July 2024 Proofreaders: Rudra and Joshua C. Pipkins

[cupidzone]

˚꒰ 🏹 DISCORD FORUMS TUTORIAL♡

i'm not sure if people have seen or tested out the forums on discord but i thought i'd make a tutorial on how i use it for roleplaying since i found it super fun and helpful for organization purposes!

so what are forums? discord describes it as "a space for organized discussions". much like threads, the discussions can be contained in one post which makes it easy to keep your topics in order. the part that i find most useful is that you can organize your post by tags and filter through them! now in order to get forums in your server, you will have to enable 'Community' on your server. so let's start!

♡ . ) first thing you'll do is open your server setting. there will be an 'Enable Community' that you can click on and it will take you to a page like this

♡ . ) once you click 'Get Started' it will take you through a series of questions and system settings. you will need at least one "default channel" where discord will send automated updates. this channel is necessary if you want to use forums.

if you continue with the default settings, discord will automatically create two channels for you: one titled 'rules' and another titled 'moderators-only'. the announcements made whenever there's an update as mentioned above will be sent to the latter.

NOTE FROM CUPID ! i personally like to make a single channel titled something like 'updates' and keep it locked. this can be done before or after enabling community, you will just need to change the settings to go to the new channel first.

♡ . ) once you have community enable, you're free to make all the forums you want! when you go to create a new channel, 'forums' will show up as an option like this

for this example, i'm going to show how i set up my muses' profiles for 1x1 writing server like a roster, but you can also do this for single muse / threads / sms / etc.

♡ . ) when you click into the forums channel you created, you will see a landing page like this. there are instructions on how to navigate the channel as well so feel free to read those as well! the first thing i like to do is create tags. you can open that setting by clicking either of these buttons.

(navigate to the 'Tags' section and click 'Create Tag' if you need to) it will open a popup box like this. i like to create a tag for every muse that i want to add to my roster and you're able to add 20 tags!

when you're finished, they will be listed as you see below. there are other options in forums settings that you can play around with including a 'default reaction' emoji, 'slowmode', layout and sorting option, age restriction and 'hide after inactivity'. all these are based on preference!

♡ . ) once you've saved your setting changes, you can leave this page and are now able to make your posts by clicking 'New Post' on the upper right hand corner.

this is where you're pretty much able to do whatever suits your style including formatting how you like and adding photos, all you need to make sure to do is add the corresponding tag to the post! once you're finished making it look how you want, you can click 'Post'

they will appear in the channel like this!

♡ . ) and by clicking on a post, you will be able to open it in a side view like this. if you want to see the post in full view, you will click the three dots in the upper right hand corner of the side view and then choose 'Open in Full View'.

you're now able to add more messages within the post! for me, i like to add stats of my muses and headcanons that may be useful when i thread.

NOTE FROM CUPID ! one set back i found is that you are not able to use threads within a forum post so it may get a bit cluttered depending on what you send in a forum post. so if you are wanting multiple different sections for one topic, i suggest creating a forum instead. for example, if you are wanting to add musings, faceclaim pics, headcanons and stats all for one muse, i would create a single forum post just for that muse instead to avoid having important info getting lost!

and that pretty much covers how i use forums for discord rp! i encourage you to play around with it to find a style and format that best works for you. and if you have any questions, you're more than welcome to send it to my inbox. happy writing everyone♡♡♡

[shoot-of-corruption]

Blog Announcement

Hi there my lovelies! It is a rare guest, Ria here :D

I put on an Oblivion Let's Play to hold my blood pressure low while formulating this announcement, so you better settle down with me xD

I would like to announce here how I will deal with my main blog and all my side blogs on tumblr from now on.

As most of you know, I am working a full time job in retail, so my nervous costume tends to be a tiny bit thin after around 9,5hrs of shift. I am happy to announce to you all that my time as a worker in retail is finally a finite one. If everything works out right, I won't just be able to start a homeoffice job by next year, but also live at a completely different place and city. Sadly there is still a good while of wait ahead of me until then and a lot of things are unsure as of yet. But I will do my best to get to that destination, because right now everything is pretty much murdering me.

What does that mean for my blogs? I have been on Hiatus for a long while, on and off, over years. And yet I have always returned here, more or less satisfied or happy with my performance or the RPC.

From this day on I will treat myself better about being able to come here and also, I will not spread myself thin anymore. I will transform Mariku into an Ask- and Art-Blog. Interactions are always welcome, on and off Anon, as well as dash commentary or writing pieces and updates of myself. You can tag Mariku and me in everything, the followed tags will stay the same, I will just update a few things on my BIO in the next days etc. [maybe I'll finally force myself to make a card, should the mobile pages not work anymore].

Things that will for the close future not be done on my blogs:

RP-Threads: no matter if long, short, or anything. I am torturing myself, because I cannot say no to new thread ideas and the moment I really get invested into plots, threads, ideas or anything alike, my partners tend to just leave and let me drop like a hot potato and I honestly neither need nor want that hate in my life anymore.

Anon-Hate: Will NOT be displayed on this channel. I will keep my Inbox with anonymous messages on, but every piece of disgusting hate will be immediately plucked out of the screen and burned in a bonfire. You will not get a stage here and you can be assured, that I will piss and shit on your disgusting hatred and then laugh about it for the coming week, because you are the most pathetic thing that I had the displeasure of even having to lay a momentary glance on <3

RPC/personal Drama: I will ignore drama and strictly remove myself from it. I will not be part or target of any hatred, impulsive meanness and/or random bouts of radical opinions. If you don't feel seen/represented in my opinions, turn around and find a place you fit into, but leave me and my muses alone.

Things that will be done on this blog (and partly my side blogs):

Ask-Memes: Of any kind. Ask-Plots, random asks, symbol ask memes, color memes, background memes, AU-memes and YES, also art related asks.

Open Commissions: I will open art commissions again after I had a bit more training on my tablet, for everybody, who wants to commission art. They will likely be limited and they may also for training reasons only be for free for training, thus included in art memes, but I will open paid commissions eventually again, definitely this year. I cannot tell you details, yet, but keep your eyes peeled ;)

IMs and Mun related things: You are definitely allowed to write IMs and ask me questions!! I am here to have fun as all of us are, so if your fun includes coming into my IMs and leaving a cat meme each day or send me weird asks, I am all here for it!! All of this might sound very dickish of me, but I just feel like I get too emotionally hurt and immersed and I want to protect me from bad feelings and you from my wrath xDDD

Thank you for reading all of this and I hope all of us can stick to those ground rules (for now) - we will get on peachy! If the fact that I am not RPing (for now) on here is breaking you beyond compare, I do own a Discord and I am usually willing to share it. Please contact me on here before adding me, so I know who exactly is adding me on there, otherwise, I might not accept your request. Discord: sangnoire

I will warn you though, that I will be very selective with accepting RPs and partners on there still and that any unwillingness to accept that will be met with... a uno-reverse card reaction x'D

[diy-fire-water-pups]

WELCOME TO OUR BLOG!

This is a blog for you to interact with some of the Paw Patrol pups: The Firefighter and EMT pup, Marshall; The Recycle Do-All pup, Rocky; and last but not least, The Cool Water-Loving pup, Zuma.

Before you can send asks or start a RP, please check the rules under the cut first. Hope to see you around and have some fun!

Ps.: Askbox opens from Friday to Monday early morning (GMT -3). It's closed as soon as I wake up.

RULES FOR INTERACTING

1- Be respectful. There’s an actual person sitting in front of a computer or holding her cell phone here, spending time to play as her favorite pups, interact with people she doesn’t know and have fun; Time which she could be using for working and earning money to not worry about what to eat tomorrow, if her own dog and cat will have their food too and if the bills will be paid in time or late again. I’m here to have a good time. If someone starts being a bother, I’ll make use of the block button and delete asks or whatever’s sent my way. I’m not wasting time with assholes.

2- Same goes for the pups, actually - if I feel someone’s bothering them, I’ll do the same as above. Even if I’m not the one affected but I feel the pups would be. 

3- If you wish to RP, please send a DM to my other sideblog, self-indulgent-paw-patrol, so we can discuss about plots first. You don’t need to DM me if you just want to send asks or interact with the pups, though, that’s only for RPs.

4- EDIT! Thanks to some encouragement and the positive reception this blog has been receiving, I'm willing to try RPing crossovers again (Never did it here before, but I've done in other askblogs I've moderated in the past in other fandoms). The thing is, PLEASE TALK TO ME FIRST! Sometimes I don't know your muse at all, so it would be good to get to know them a bit first, before we plot anything. The ideal is for you to have an "About" page for your muses so I can check them out!

5- I’m willing to RP ships, be it platonic or romance, but absolutely NO NSFW will be allowed here. From the possible ships with the pups in this blog, my OTP is Rocky x Zuma, followed by Marshall x Everest and Chase x Marshall. I’m open for shipping the pups with OCs, granted I get to know the OCs first.

6- Feel free to reblog any posts you may find in this blog, including the pups' answers to asks they get. The only posts you shall NOT REBLOG (but you can like) are the posts tagged as #RP if you're not the one participating in it. That's basic ancient Tumblr etiquette!

7- M!A (Magic!Anons) are allowed but within a limit! The effect will be applied ONLY to the ask that sent the M!A. I won't be taking M!As that intend to affect other asks or RPs. Dare the pups to do silly stuff all you want, but within this limit. Also, I'll still hold my right to decline a M!A for whatever reason.

Rules may be subject to change in the future as I see fit. For now, that's about it!

Now I'll take the chance to promote my friends' pups askblogs too just because I can XD Make sure to read their rules before interacting too!

@jurassicsnowpups - an askblog for Everest, Rex and Tracker!

@pcwpatrol - an askblog for Chase!

@taking-to-the-skye - an askblog for Skye!

@stretch-n-fetch - an askblog for Liberty!

[lilacxrosesx]

open to: f - please disregard my muse page and rules as they are both very old! any questions le me know. plot: my boy phoenix is your characters friend/fwb/frenemy and he's pointed out her boyfriend is a dick, and now he's done something to prove that. not to mention he has feelings for her but he won't openly admit it. "i don't know what you want me to say.." his expression was soft, and somehow he managed to keep his calm through the conversation. "i take no pride in being right, i never wanted you to get hurt by him."

[dogtccth]

The post you're referring to was posted on the 10th ... 10 days ago... More than a week. I'm going to assume this is that same person so I'll talk straight to you.

This is the post you're referring to:

To show I'm not hiding anything, yes I posted that after you soft blocked over this message...

Where I clearly specified muses I was familiar with and options on my side as well. Admittedly I started with an "IDKkkkk" after initially being approached because you followed me first so I wasn't sure if you had muses in mind that you wanted to interact with but since none were offered I sent options as I always do with multi's so people can choose from a variety of options when there isn't one specifically that stands out as an option.

You commented on my post then IMMEDIATELY deleted it and hard blocked me by the time I could refresh my dash so don't act like I deleted it bc I was 'called out'. I deleted it because I was over it and it's not like I could talk to you about it considering you soft blocked me after sending me all that ~ because you were idk making assumptions about my interest bc of wording??

And now you're going around messaging my mutuals about this like you know me talking about me breaking multiple rules when I broke none considering I did specify and all while misgendering me ... so who's not reading peoples pages here because my pronouns are right on my pinned. Unless it was done on purpose which is transphobic but I'm still being respectful of you and blocking out your url and muses to keep your privacy despite this.

And this all happened on THE SAME DAY you followed me so Idk why you're saying you've been following me for years unless you have other accounts but I'm clearly not familiar enough with you to know which ones those might be because I don't rmr everyones names or rules unless I talk to them consistently...

Anyway, you blocked me. I blocked you back after the last anon I got so I guess you got on another account to send me this shit ?? But I'd rather just move on that's what the block feature is for I don't know why you're lurking on my blog still but I turned off anon now so just please leave me alone.

[liketwoswansinbalance]

THE ONE AND HIS BROTHER

This fic is also available on Wattpad or AO3, if you would prefer to read it elsewhere.

⸻

Summary:

Rafal had lived to complete his oath and rule as the One (the one true School Master), and Rhian, reduced to mortal, was redeemed. Now, both brothers come to terms with their tale’s ending, an uncertain, prophecy-less future, and the two begin anew since the Great War, without the constraints of a fairy tale.

And, even Rafal must learn to accept his true nature, his supposed, newly-surfaced Goodness and the guilt it carries.

Context:

The "anticlimax" of Fall was narrowly subverted, and both brothers are alive, contending with the aftermath of the Great War.

⸻

Rafal stepped through the window of the silver tower that housed the Storian on a newly-healed leg, catching sight of Rhian huddled in the dark, afternoon shade.

Rhian flipped a page and looked up from THE TWO TROLLS, red-faced and bleary-eyed, his back against the stone cell’s wall. Restless souls indeed. A euphemism for Evil. An underplaying of his life and acts. “Did you return Midas to that book-gobbler village? What's it called?”

“Gavaldon—and, yes, I did. He deserves a peaceful life, for all that he’s done to serve our tale,” Rafal said sedately.

Rhian could no longer hold back as his mental dam broke. Hot tears spilled from his eyes, tracing trails on his sun-kissed cheeks. “I'm sorry."

“I know…” Rafal began, but he had other loads on his mind. “And, I can't believe I—I don't know why I revived that pastry prat, Rufius. He always got on my last nerve, the coward.”

And yet—Rafal appeared subdued, lacking in his usual contempt, Rhian noted.

Then, Rafal finally surrendered, posture sagging. He dropped down to the stone floor heavily, back sliding against the wall, settling beside Rhian, utterly drained by the Great War and his flight to Gavaldon.

His cape crumpled, crushed beneath him where he sat on it, and he drew his arms tight to his side, scraping his wrist on the wall without realizing it.

Rafal had drawn pinpricks of blood, the shallowest of scrapes, before his pale skin repaired itself flawlessly, proof the Storian kept its word, when he’d made his second vow. Alone. When he was named the One.

Rhian observed this, and heaved a sigh of relief.

Rafal turned to him.

Rhian stared back passively, his eyes leaden, chastened, finding nothing substantial to say in return. "At least his pastries were better than Gavaldon's."

"Mmm," Rafal mused unresponsively. He did not listen, buried in his own haze of thought. Then, he spoke once more. “I mean, I'm Good, but I'm not a weak-willed Ever. And, yet—I felt guilt. I still do,” Rafal admitted somberly. “What's wrong with me?” The pit of his stomach lurched at the thought again. “We’ve—I’ve cost lives.” He stared through Rhian, conscience-stricken, oddly troubled.

Rhian sighed defeatedly. “You're Good and... I'm not.” Guilt-ridden, his voice broke. "It was never you. I cost lives. My own foolishness and sin and hollow, bottomless greed. At every turn, I was cowed and tried to save my own skin. Every time. And you valiantly put your own life at risk. Repeatedly, for near-strangers, and for me, most of all."

“Thanks,” Rafal muttered, regaining a shade of his old self. “Now isn’t that reassuring to hear from the one who caused all our problems?” he sniped.

Rhian sunk his face into his hands, elbows propped up on the storybook settled in his lap.

Rafal rushed to set his mistake right. That had been unforgiving. The Good Forgive rang and reared in his head like a phantom presence. “Don't sell yourself short. You can still do Good with the life you have.” He prodded Rhian’s arm with his elbow, nodding at the storybook in Rhian’s lap. “At least you're not a cannibalistic face-thief of a monster.”

Rhian lifted his blotchy, red face from his hands and flushed deeper with shame as he looked up again to meet Rafal’s eyes. “I almost killed you, but I held my rogue, restless soul back. It was about to consume me again, but I never want to feel like that again.”

“It was like you were possessed,” Rafal reflected.

“But I wasn't. I possessed myself. It was all me, my soul.” Rhian paused. “How—how did you live with the Evil you once committed?”

“I… don't know. It just came naturally to me, as effortlessly as breathing back then. It wasn't as foreign as yours. My Evil was… controlled, for lack of a better word. It wasn't an out-of-body experience or like a parasite. I could command it, use it, use others, bend all to my will.” Rafal looked down, white, spiked sheaves of hair sweeping forward across his eyes, catching in his lashes.

Then, Rafal reddened with a realization that jolted up his spine.

“How will I lead the School, now that I've lost it, my Evil? Will anyone respect or even listen to me—Midas. Midas already opposed me, not that he was so wrong in the end. I wasn't fair to him. Who knows what else could happen? I could soon have a revolt on my hands, brewing under the surface without even knowing it!”

“Your students seemed ready to lay down their lives for you on the warfront, without question, without fear, without doubt. I think you'll have no trouble. In truth, I think you already convinced them, when you got them to follow you. You’ve probably secured their loyalty to you, and to the Woods you’ll shape, the future you’ll bring.” Rhian inhaled as if it pained him. “Your School seemed ready to die for you when I stood at the front. They trust you. You just have to learn to trust them.”

Rafal nodded slowly, his breath turning ragged. “But, how… did you live with a conscience weighing you down? How did you never feel ashamed and self-conscious all the time, every last minute of your existence? The guilt. The guilt that comes with Good—it's suffocating!”

“I was. Self-conscious.” Rhian brushed a stray curl back from his brow. “I… never entirely rid myself of that reflexive shame. But, there are other ways to lead. You've been and done both: Good and Evil. Just, use your judgment. It'll never fail you. Storian knows it's infinitely better than mine.”

“That, I'll do. I don't suppose you're willing to help me appeal to your… the Ever students though?”

“Always,” Rhian vowed. “I'll remain at your side for as long as my life allows. You'll forget about me one day though.”

“Never. That could never happen,” Rafal averred. “Besides, we can't know what's ahead now. I've sent a missive to Monrovia, in order to arrest Marialena and sentence her to life under the sea.”

Rhian smirked, mildly cheered by the prospect of the wayward wretch being locked up for good.

Of course—Rafal had neglected to mention to his brother that he'd publicly threatened the old king of Ravenbow with lethal, dark magic, before his entire retinue as eyewitnesses at Four Point, at a recent audience he’d sought without even a scruple of advance notice.

Everyone, most of all the king himself, had surpassed terrified, but Rafal hadn’t yielded his sorcery’s chokehold on the man, not until the old, quivering king had vindicated Rhian, in a rather quavering voice, for the act of malice against one of own, a loyal subject, the young soldier Rhian had killed in cold blood.

The king had proclaimed that Rhian would be formally deemed “not guilty by reason of insanity, on account of ‘possession by supreme, magical entity,’ henceforth not to be named in this aforementioned, binding document, nor in all subsequent documentation by the royal court or common scribes of Ravenbow, in accordance with rational forethought and the reasonable and necessary fear of condemnation by the manifestly blameless and divine law aboven, which all Men and other mortal beings doth and willen observe forevermore.”

Accordingly, the rulers of Bloodbrook, Kingdom Kyrgios, and Jaunt Jolie had swiftly fallen into line shortly thereafter, and had also very conveniently agreed not to press charges against Rhian after Rafal’s display of power.

Thus, on that fateful day, Rhian Mistral was absolved, granted total immunity from the rule of Woods law, and held in tremendously high esteem by all the kingdoms, that is, unless Rafal received further notice in any remote futurity which conflicted with the leaders’ decrees. Yet, he didn’t expect to see a single quarrel from the chastened Woods leaders. They would bow if he had to sidestep civil, Ever diplomacy in the name of a greater Good, and break their spines and their wills in the process.

The rest of the proceedings of the first-ever Great War Reparations Summit went on as usual, with the One silent as a stone statue yet still conspicuously in attendance in his midnight blue robes.

Since the final decision, to establish a Woods-wide railroad complex that would be titled the Flowerground, and the closing banquet of the summit, the other Woods leaders noted to themselves that they needn’t call in any bygone, originally agreed-upon favors of the last few decades from the School, ever. They feared dealing with the One, and felt their precious, social standings were satisfactory, left as they were.

Rafal also omitted the fact that he’d paid the Kingdom Council a staggering sum of leftover-rubble-turned-Midas-gold, which hadn’t yet reverted to worthless debris, in the School's name, to pardon Rhian for high crimes against humanity and the Woods as a whole.

The exorbitant lump sum was marked in a black, leather checkbook he’d stamped with a moth to dissuade Rhian from ever peeking in it. It was covertly labeled: 'Miscellaneous Outlying Expenses & Future Expenditures for the Enlightenment of Evers and the Propagation of Sin.’

A second, crimson checkbook, the decoy, or rather, the real one, depending on what Rhian would be searching for, was designated: ‘Immediate Repairs and Renovations.’ Eventually, Rafal told Rhian he'd accounted for collateral damage: the Pan’s and the Midas-gold’s devastation, and the overall destruction wreaked by the war.

Finally, the young Ravenbow soldier’s family had been presented with a vast, fruitful tract of land at the edge of School grounds, to recompense the pay the lad’s lost decades of mercenary service to the Ravenbow throne would have resulted in.

All was in order. Rafal had worked tirelessly in the name of Good. Rhian need not know of his brother’s more… objectionable methods.

Lie of omission still intact, Rafal instead opted to tell Rhian, “The rest of the Saders have assured me that they and the rest of their line won't interfere or involve themselves with the School again. Her word may not have been final. So, you could still be appointed, if the Storian views you as ‘worthy.’”

Rhian shook his head, dismissing Rafal’s attempts to raise his spirits.

“I know it'll never be equal to the crime, but you did atone and stand vigil for the Ravenbow soldier and all those taken by the war; it’s more than I’ve done. The king of Ravenbow doesn't hold it against you. You're forgiven. You're free to a fresh start. And I won't leave you to it,” Rafal declared in a brazen lie. “I won't ever leave you, full-stop. You'll never be alone again. We can learn to be human, together—until we can comprehend and piece together these broken souls of ours.”

(Rafal had decided to leave out the fact that he would briefly leave Rhian and the School in the near future, to free the Demimagus from its lamp and fulfill his promise to it. He’d leave in the night and return before Rhian awoke. Such news would require too much explanation and probably prove itself too much for Rhian to hear in this state.)

“Thank you.” Rhian leaned his head on Rafal's shoulder.

“For what?” Rafal breathed.

Head bowed, Rhian spoke. “For my redemption. For a second chance. For never giving up on me. For believing in me, in my ability to change. For not yielding. For forcing me to see the error of my ways. For being enough—even if I once couldn't see it, what I had right by me, all along.”

“I'll never stop being your brother,” Rafal promised. “And, we know well enough, better than anyone, souls aren't static. They never were. This strife has only sown an age of balance and peace.

“We can't spare a glance back, except to educate those that'll come after, so they don't fall into the same conflicts, so they know this tale will never repeat itself, as long as we've set the necessary safeguards in place.

“The Pirate Captain was installed in Neverland, the Mermaids’ throne was stabilized, and I reestablished Gavaldon as forbidden, barred from the Woods and safely tucked away, upon returning Midas. All sides now have moral purpose, and that, not me, will uphold balance for as long as we both shall live,” Rafal affirmed.

“Yes,” Rhian agreed, “We can only look ahead.”

⸻

Days later, Rhian insisted to Rafal that he gather the students for a School-wide announcement in the Theater of Tales. “Your time has come. I guess we have an announcement to make then. To our—your School.” Rhian’s stomach had finally settled with the weight of the truth.

“Our,” Rafal corrected. “Are you sure that you want me to break the news?” he asked with the ghost of a devilishly sly grin darting across his chiseled features, pallid, jade eyes glinting mischievously.

“Sure,” Rhian ceded weakly, wearily. “Have your way. I know you live to watch the drama of others. Just don’t shock them to death. Some Evers are faint-hearted.”

“Lovely.” Rafal grinned wolfishly. It was a rather predatory grin.

Rhian blanched sheepishly for having enabled his brother. “Wait—”

“It’s well overdue that I got to enjoy a new source of entertainment for a change. This will hereby be the start of my well-deserved vacation. From you.”

“But—”

Rafal sneered incredulously. “You don't know the students like I do. Remember who was on their side during the war? Not Rhian! Regardless, whatever harm I inflict on them is for their own good. It’s never severe or permanently scarring.” He paused. “With the exception of physical maiming, I suppose,” he amended.

Rhian sighed. Rafal’s sadistic streak would never end, would it? “If you're truly Good, you're going to have to work on that unquenchable bloodthirst of yours. It's not becoming of a Ever. Also, don’t get too ahead of yourself. You still have to lead us all. There's a lot only you can set right.”

“Since when has your behavior been becoming of an Ever, dear brother?” Rafal could only grin wider, eyes alit. “You're just trying to foist off responsibilities onto me," he accused, his tone turning sardonic and grim. “That trick won't work anymore."

Rhian laughed, ill at ease as his stomach began to roil once again.

⸻

Rafal's eyes roved over his eager audience as the students flocked to their seats in befuddlement. This was it. The moment of truth. And if all went well, his monumental announcement would ideally lead to a Theater rife with chaos, tearful distress, and crises, all serving his own boundless personal amusement.

Rhian beamed falsely, and let out a short, strained laugh. Even while Good, Rafal’s indelible Never sensibilities still seemed to spring out of the ether. Rhian doubted they’d ever be free of them. And yet, he found that he’d miss this characteristic sharpness of his brother’s, if it were to fully disappear.

Rafal wouldn’t be Rafal without it.

The students peered up at the brothers. Curiously, Rafal stood on Good's side of the Theater while Rhian languished on Evil's.

The room tensed, and whispers died as Rafal lifted a hand with all the authority of a time-tested necromancer.

A sea of heads below turned to face him.

The entire School had been called together for a momentous assembly.

One for the ages.

For the storybooks.

The whole room sucked in a collective breath—when Rafal had said what he said.

When he had admitted that he was Good.

But what did that mean for—everyone’s eyes flicked frantically, feverishly to Rhian. Did that mean?

No, it couldn’t be, they told themselves. They had ample material to deny the truth with, to fuel their deeply-rooted denial. Decades of it. Tales recorded by the Storian itself. It was just too hard to believe.

Or was it?

Not after they’d all seen him be Good for years and years. Not after he'd led the Evers to victory after victory for a century.

Except, there had been the Trial. And the Circus.

Could it—could it be?

Was he Evil? Did he pull the wool over their eyes? All this time?

And did that mean—was what the Evil School Master said true?

And if that was true, did that make the Evil School Master Good? And the Good Evil, exactly like he'd said.

He didn't seem to have any reason to lie.

And if he hadn’t lied, they were indebted to him.

He had saved them all. And the Woods.

But did that mean the inverse was true?

That he’d saved the Woods… from his brother.

⸻

Amidst the stirring, hysterical crowd, James sat unmoved. “Imagine, after all that, being Evil and second to your brother. The poor chap,” he murmured sympathetically. “Least I can profit off his loss.” James thrust out a pale hand to collect his prize. He’d won the betting pool. Praise the Storian for Rhian’s power after all!

“Alright, alright already!” Aladdin yapped and threw his arms up in surrender. Who cared about Rafal's sore brother? He was a total priss! Grumpishly, Aladdin got to work, fishing through his pockets.

“Stuff it.” James beamed waggishly, about to retort with Once a pirate, always a pirate.

Aladdin wound up and slung a hefty pouch of coins at the pirate.

It whapped James in the face.

Kyma startled and shifted her attention to the boys, those oafs. “Shh,” she admonished them viciously, then noticed James’ pouch, his hard-won prize.

Like a righteous zealot, Kyma snatched his winnings away from him. “Proper Evers don't gamble for their own personal gain, James. Though I will let you use what you need to restore the Jolly Roger, we are going to channel this money into a Good Deed, and donate it to a worthwhile cause: saving Neverland’s banarans.”

Half-heartedly, James opened his mouth to protest when his mind flashed to the fluffy, white creatures that had once been hunted and skinned for the heinous Pan. Nevermind.

“Luckily, you aren't in Rhian’s position. You don’t need redemption. Isn't that right, James?” Kyma blandished sweetly.

"HEY!” Aladdin wailed. “How's that fair!"

Kyma jutted out her chin.“It’s not a matter of fair or not. It's a matter of right versus wrong.”

Aladdin stuck up for James. “Who says that's a rule?" he squabbled.

Kyma put a finger to her lips wordlessly, casting her gaze back onto the School Masters on stage.

"Every Ever that's ever lived, Laddie. That's who,” James answered for her.

Kyma smiled, pleased.

The Evers clustered around them hemmed Aladdin in rather claustrophobically. They followed Kyma’s lead, shushing him devotedly, so they could listen, in case the School Masters spoke once more.

Aladdin was sure he'd be trampled underfoot if he so much as let out a peep during the rest of the assembly, so he plopped down into his seat and sulked instead.

Vanquished by his choice of princess, James sighed and curled an arm around Kyma’s shoulders. “I knew it the whole time,” he lied suavely.

Kyma rolled her eyes good-naturedly, and batted his arm away.

"Well, I knew it since I felt Rhian's magic in me and came to the conclusion. And found out that you're an incorruptible saint,” James added.

Kyma leaned into his chest. "Better."

"Better than Laddie?" he prompted hopefully.

Kyma sighed, feigning exasperation. "Don't try me, James. But yes."

Boys. They were so fragile and needed such reassurance every mulish second of their existence. One had to guard, and reaffirm, and care for their bruised egos, or they'd fall apart before long.

⸻

Meanwhile, Rhian's ego wasn't faring too well in the face of the multitudes before him.

A maelstrom of thoughts and doubts and revelations swirled above the crowd.

Subject to the heat of his former students’ stares, Rhian's hands shook tremulously, and he waited for the backlash, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing himself, trying to hold back tears. What to do, what to do? He'd never felt so exposed in his life.

Blood roared in his ears, infernal heat from deep within flaring and rising to the surface of his flushed skin.

Not the dragonfire, not the dragonfire, Rhian prayed with every fiber of his being.

A cool, glacial breeze grazed his hair.

Rafal laid a gelid hand on the back of Rhian’s neck to soothe him.

Rhian hadn’t realized that Rafal had glided over to attend to him after getting his fill of the so-called entertainment.

Rafal wouldn’t let them attack him. Instilled with trust, Rhian opened his eyes.

The outcry never came.

Rafal had sensed the impending swell, a potentially inexorable, unforgiving outburst, but what greeted the two brothers was far from the ire he too had been anticipating.

Instead, a cheer erupted from the Nevers' half of the crowd, a cry of pure, ebullient joy by the no-longer oppressed.

The hoity-toity, golden School Master was fallible! What a day!

The Nevers were exceedingly pleased as they still believed Rafal would be biased toward them. And they weren’t entirely wrong—Evers still irritated the formerly Evil School Master.

Once, they'd feared him, their School Master, but now they let out raucous cheers of triumph as they broke from their ranks. They revered him, the conqueror of Good, the new Master of Good, or so they thought.

Rafal chose to let them believe what they wanted, for the time being.

And so, they exulted in their victory. Celebrated him, their newly restored School Master. Theirs was the One.

At last! At last! At long last they'd get the endings they'd deserve. Live and die in glorious infamy with the spoils of the eternal war for Evil!

And naturally, if the winning School Master was on their side, they were bound to win. Their School Master was the One! He'd won the war! For them! For them all. And what pride they took in him. Or, at least, so went their logic. Flawed logic. Indeed.

Naturally, the rest of the Woods would be shaken if they hadn’t already figured out the truth. But the state of the Woods and the balance and the brothers would all be cleared up, given time.

He and Rhian would have to set the record straight with the Kingdom Council, possibly with a second, formal reparations summit, Rafal mused. He’d seize the opportunity to showcase the School’s newfound unity and his infinitely greater power. A fine political strategy.

It was never too early to keep watch for new enemies. You never knew who you could trust. And he'd gained a lifetime of paranoia since the war, yet it was a reasonable precaution, to pay close attention to his instincts surrounding others. The price of balance, the stress that would accompany the role, this burden he was laden with, it would all be worthwhile, if the Woods and Rhian would forevermore be safe and his.

Looking at his brother gratefully, then looking out at the crowd, Rhian appreciated the attention, the lauding, the adoration, the applause.

Though, he doubted the audience truly loved him, but at the least, he'd be safe because everyone feared Rafal enough to appease him and not deride Rhian for his wrongs.

He'd repent anyway, he decided right then and there. It was the least he could do after dragging Rafal through Hell and back.

But, they'd lived. They'd both lived, he thought to himself in disbelief. The Storian had granted them an ending, and he didn't intend to squander it. Not a chance. Not in this lifetime, not with a second chance, at life, at loving his brother, the students, and the Woods as he should.

He wrung his hands and hoped the Evers wouldn't riot when they found out he wasn’t their School Master, once they realized Rafal was Master of both Schools. Though they likely already knew—there wasn't any indication that anything was wrong. If anything, the Evers seemed… entirely accepting.

Later, Rafal filled in the gap in Rhian's knowledge and explained that all the students had known, to an extent. They’d had an emergent inkling as to the truth of the brothers’ souls. They'd seen Rafal revive Rufius and prove his soul Good firsthand.

Several students had exhaled in utter relief when they realized Rhian had been stripped of his status and immortality.

They no longer needed—or wanted—him, it seemed. Yet, it was probably fair penance given all that he’d done to Rafal. Perhaps, one day, he’d rise back into favor.

For now, he just glanced over at the One, and watched him lead.

⸻

Note:

Yes, this is finally a moderately happier, canon-divergent fic. It's a little melancholic, but not a complete tragedy. I suppose my hope is that this will fill even one person's void.

I ended one of the sections on “ahead.” Did anyone catch that? I had the opportunity and wanted to use it, partly because it felt right, and because I wanted to try to be “clever” and mimic Fall.

I think this fic idea came about a couple days after I first read Fall, so it's been sitting in my drafts for a long while.

Also, in its earlier stages, this one practically wrote itself. It just burst free from the dam weirdly enough and sloshed forth onto the page. Maybe, it had been simmering and developing in my brain since Fall’s ending only to overflow—since I wrote it in practically one late night, made minor edits over time, and added several scenes as they came to me in short spurts of inspiration.

Thank you for being a reader! I’m open to constructive criticism, and feel free to comment any of your thoughts, feelings, reactions, questions, concerns, etc. Don’t hold back—I’m willing to answer any unresolved questions you may have!

If you happen to catch any errors or inconsistencies, kindly let me know! Furthermore, if anything seems out of character, I’d love to know your opinion.

Lastly, I’m curious: what was your favorite line(s), scene, or part?

⸻

Songs I associate with this fic:

"Metamorphosis" - David Clavijo

Fits the beginning, kind of crescive tone, I’d like to think.

"To Be Human" - MARINA

I recommend listening to a sped-up version.

“If You’re Meant to Come Back” - Justin Jesso

I associate this one with the prequels and the brothers’ dynamic in general.

[obxone]

Marmoris (Chapter Eight)

Edited-ish. ~1.5k words

Master Page

You giggle at Mike’s very bad dad joke while Kiara scolds him, and Anna joins you in laughter. It is a slow early evening, but that is expected for a middle of the week day. The sound of the door opening has you all turning, and the laughter fades as you separate and get back to work. You move forward to welcome an early dinner customer but pause when JJ steps into view.

“Hey,” he flashes a grin at you. Those ocean blue eyes of his drag down the length of you, and your heart speeds up a little. He looked different today, disheveled still, but different in a way you could not put your finger on.

“Hi,” you murmur. It is awkward, and you both can feel it as JJ stands with about six feet of space between you. “You came.”

“I said I would.”

You smile a little just as Kiara calls his name, and he glances over your shoulder. She moves forward, eyeing him as he stands there. “What are you doing here JayJ?”

“I came to see her,” he says, pointing at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, and you clasp your hands behind your back to try to hide the nerves clawing up inside you.

Kiara looks confused but does not say anything. You stay silent, waiting for him to figure out how to fix it since it was his idea to come here in the first place.

He rolls his shoulders, pulling his cap off his head and squeezing the bill between his hands. “Do you have a second Princess? To talk? Alone?”

You tip your head, enjoying the awkward pressure on him more than you should. “Why?”

He groans, scrubbing his hand through his messy blond locks. He peeks at you through his lashes, and you roll your eyes at his attempt to be sauve with you. “Just to talk.”

“I’ll be around if either of you needs me,” Kiara muses before turning and going to finish cleaning up the tables on the far wall.

“You figure out the rules?” His attention is fixated on you now.

“Yes.”

He smiles a little, not surprised in the least that the kook princess has her shit together. He looks down at the tops of his boots. “Cool.”

“I’m about to take my break, meet me outside after you talk to Kie?”

He nods, and you flash him a smile before getting a fresh cup of water for your break.

You wait a few minutes for JJ after finding a spot outside in the shade on the curb lining the parking lot. He groans as he drops onto the curb next to you before taking the large Styrofoam cup from you.

“That is my water.”

He shrugs before taking a sip. “You’re my girlfriend, we can share.”

You huff a breath before opening the notes app on your phone. “I’ve only got fifteen minutes, so let’s get through this.”

“All ears, Princess.”

You clear your throat as you adjust to face him better while balancing on the lip of the curb. “All right, rule #1: the real reason we are dating stays between us, no one, and I mean no one knows. Not the pogues and not Sarah.”

He nods, lips pressing into a temporary line to show no argument from him.

“Rule #2: No seeing other people. To sell this and keep the secret, we have to be exclusive.”

“Fair.”

“Thanks,” you murmur before clearing your throat again. “Rule #3: No PDA.”

“What?!” His head snaps up, and he is staring at you with wide eyes. “How is that going to work?”

“You really aren’t going to like rule four then...”

“What is it?” He asks, leaning closer. “No sex?”

“Well, yeah.”

“God, woman,” he groans, removing his ballcap again. You watch him squeeze the bill between his hands again. “You’re killing me.”

“I want to be careful,” you shrug and look back at your notes. “No excessive physical contact significantly reduces the potential risk of someone developing feelings. Okay, rule #5-”

“Oh no!” He gets up and starts to pace in front of you while putting his ballcap on backward. “We aren’t done with rule three or even four.”

You stare at him, watching him pace back and forth. “What aren’t we done with?”

“I’m not going to date you and never touch you! The pogues will see right through it. I’m a man, I have needs, and they know that!” He shakes his head. "I have a reputation you know."

"Oh, believe me, JJ, that I am aware of."

He snorts before licking his bottom lip. "So you understand. To sell it, then I am planning to touch and kiss my girlfriend... a lot."

You groan, pressing your hands to your face before lifting your head after a beat. “Fine. PDA is allowed, but no sex. I’m not changing my mind on that. This isn’t a real relationship, and I cannot sleep around like that.”

He studies you; lips parting, and you arch an eyebrow daring him to voice his thoughts.

“Are you a virgin?”

“No,” you mutter, fidgeting with your necklace. “Remember Kasey?”

“Ah,” he clues in before he nods. “Okay, deal. No sex.”

“Great,” you huff, ignoring the burn coloring your cheeks. “Rule #5: we keep it under wraps at the Island Club.”

He openly stares at you with confusion. 

“Be reasonable, J. I’m a kook, and you’re a pogue that works there. You think they’ll be nice to you if they think you are screwing one of their own?”

“But we aren’t screwing, rule four.”

“But they don’t know that.”

He shrugs. “Whatever.”

“Great,” you repeat and get to your feet while tucking your phone in your back pocket. “I have to go back to work.”

“I’ll walk you in,” he says, retrieving the cup from the curb. You walk side by side towards the employee entrance, and he takes the opportunity to glance over at you. “Is a perk of dating you free food?”

You laugh and nudge him with your elbow. “Sure. Let me grab you something.”

“Sweet!”

That dimpled smile makes you smile back at him as you lead him into the restaurant. You punch in a quick to-go order before refilling the cup for him.

“What’s going on?” Kiara asks, passing by with a bin full of dirty dishes.

You turn to her while wiping down the counter. “Getting JJ food, he is like a starved animal.”

She laughs. “Glad to see you guys are finally getting along.”

“That’s us, getting along,” JJ muses, leaning against the counter with his elbows as he stares at the mostly empty floor. You wait for him to tell her the news, but he does not.

You roll your eyes at him being too scared to tell his best friend before you grab his order after they put it in the window. “Here, J.”

“That was fast, thank you, Princess.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Got to run, meeting John B for some fishing,” he says, his free hand brushing up your wrist to your forearm. You nod with a tight smile on your face. “Text you later?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Have fun night fishing.”

He grins, flashing that dimple. “Planning on it, Baby.”

You laugh before attempting a step back away from him, but he grabs your arm, pulling you back to him. His lips brush yours, and you inhale sharply before he winks at you.

"You are going to leave me to clean up this mess, aren't you?"

He chuckles softly, hand cupping your face before he drags the pad of this thumb across your jaw. "Yeah, I am."

He kisses you. You cannot help yourself, and you kiss him back. He smirks into it before ending it and taking a step back. A blush colors your cheeks, and mischief shines in his blue eyes.

“See you later, Princess.”

“What the hell?” Kiara’s voice is behind you, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

JJ laughs at your expense. “Have fun explaining to her.”

“You suck, JJ.”

“Love you too, Baby.”

You gap at him as he turns on his heel and leaves the restaurant without looking back. You turn, and Kiara is staring at you, arms crossed over her waist with a concerned look.

“Okay…” you murmur and move to take a seat at the bar. She follows and takes a seat as well. “After that day surfing, umm… well, JJ and I kind of agreed that something is there, and we decided to do something about it.” You play with your fingers.

“So, you’re dating?”

“Correct.”

She blows out a breath before speaking again. “Man, when you go to the 'dark' side you go all out.”

Laughter escapes you, and she joins you before patting your knee.

“Don’t worry, I think you are good for him and him for you. But promise me something?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t hurt him. He’s not as tough as he seems.”

“Not planning on it.”

She grins before swiveling her barstool around. “Let’s get ready for the dinner rush so you can see your boyfriend later.”

(Chapter Nine)

[penelopesbridgerton]

— GIF PACK —

afra saraçoğlu, #524 gifs, yalı çapkını episode 40 (2023)

(☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ click on the source link below to find the gif page. all gifs included were made by me and are size 268 x 170. please reblog this post if these are of use to you. content warnings include: kissing, drinking/alcohol, intoxication, partial nudity. ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜)

note: this gif pack is split into 2 pages

TERMS OF USE:

if you do not agree, do not use my gifs. anyone i find using my gifs while breaking my rules WILL get blocked.

this fc is turkish, please name your muse accordingly

reblog the original post if you save any, or intend to use these gifs

do not claim as your own or upload to any gif hunts

do not edit any gifs without asking permission first

any approved editing can only be done for personal use

do not use to rp as the actual celebrity

do not use my gifs to rp themes like non-con, incest, or abusive relationships

[darkestrellar]

Hello everyone! As you can see (or may already have seen), I changed Svern's url, after at least a year of thinking about doing so.

I've endeavoured to go through and update all links on the blog and information posts, but there's always a chance something slipped through the cracks. If you encounter a broken link, let me know.

Over the past three or so weeks, I have also:

Updated the on-blog muse page (updated page/section formatting, revised and rewrote information, added new stuff, added a trivia and misc section at the bottom of the page);

Updated the on-blog verses page (updated formatting, revised and rewrote verse descriptions, fleshed out some a little better);

Done a Major and quite overdue update to the Carrd. I updated the url to match the new one on the blog; overhauled the rules page to bring it in line with the most recent version on the blog, then did the same with the muse and verses sections, and I updated their formatting/layout, which I had been dissatisfied with for a while. As I threatened hinted earlier, there are a lot more words than there used to be, but it also looks much nicer (imo).

There are still a lot of other things I want to/am considering doing:

New blog avatar because this one is STILL old and outdated

Possibly make a new icon border! If I do do this, it will be a pain, because my icon bases are horribly organised or need remaking due to how I've gone about editing/making them in the past.

Update the many and various other information posts on the blog to do with verses and meta.

Revise Pokémon roster page (idk how much will need changing).

Finally, an update on my life goings-on:

I'm doing better now, although I'm not quite back to my usual self. This month was the first decent month where I didn't have any major anxiety episodes since March-April. I still have not gotten to have counselling like I was supposed to because (gestures in an annoyed manner) the waitlist is taking forever and I regret not taking the doctor's offer months ago to get a different referral but oh well.

I still haven't recovered all my mental stamina and my imagination isn't working as well as I would like either, but it's mending, slowly.

My IRL life is probably going to get busier, but now that I'm no longer so prone to feeling like I'm gonna go crazy or spontaneously die for unknown reasons, I can cope with that and juggle it better too. I'll probably still focus on maintenance (across all of my blogs) over writing for now because of the fact that my creative inspiration is still kinda like fog, but at least I'm not completely on hiatus anymore.

I'll be working on things in the background.

[solariumrph]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐑 🎭

a vintage playbill inspired doc!

it’s been a hot second since i’ve done anything docs-related but i wanted to share my latest adventure!  i made this doc to house a version of my muse that’s a 1920s era actor, complete with sepia-toned faceclaim photos & an alt title page that’s been run through photoshop w some free textures & things.  i tried putting the textures on the whole doc, but it made it extremely difficult to read, so i ended up leaving the textured title page as a header on the actual blog, and kept the doc itself unaltered.  though, if you found the right texture pack, you could probably run it through photosh.op and set it as a pdf for your mutuals to get into. (make sure you have all the fonts installed on your computer, i Did Not)

this doc can be found here and in the source link if you want to take a stab at customizing it, though i recommend it only for people who have moderate to maybe advanced?? skill in docs.  placing some of the object pngs inside the table was out of my skill range to begin with and the fact that it figured itself out in the end is a miracle.  but anyway.  all images are replaceable if you can get under the other images to them.  i did my own coloring but docs does have a built-in sepia filter if you’re not about doing all that yourself

there is a title page, a rules page, a character page w images, and another sort of empty unformatted page at the end you could delete out or customize with extra information.  i personally think the last page is the best place to put the backstory and the little squares can be all your info spots / connections / verses, but that’s not even what i did lmao so you do you!!

ngl i’m not sure if i will be much help about it but do let me know if you have any questions on formatting the doc.  start by going to file > make a copy and renaming your new doc.  docs are for personal, individual use only & credit must remain intact.  i worked hard on my baby.  also sterling is my oc plz don steal etc etc.  specifically 'the cutting room floor' is my tagline on sterling's blog so that title belongs to him as well.  but yeah if you make anything using my docs pls pls pls tag me or dm me and show me??  i wanna seeeeeee.  ok ty ily have a good timezone 💕💃

[heartheaded]

good moraftering! i have done a very thorough sweep of my followings, pages, muses, & rules & i believe i'm happy with the changes!

here are the top changes! explore to find the rest!

some muses have been moved to request only or removed all together, sorry if you followed for them!

i now operate on a low-activity, reply-bomb basis (this means i will bomb the dash 3 or 4 times a month with replies and inbox i owe; there will be no other discernable pattern)

if there is no interaction between us after a reply, assume no news is good news and i'm taking forever due to rap-battling my mental health

if its taken longer than a month its dropped, i will prioritize coming to u if i still like it but i'm losing the aforementioned rap battle

thank you for understanding!

✧˖° May you always find the strength to roll initiative and keep fighting! °˖✧

[genork-the-fandork]

Thesis

Word Count: 585 Prompt: & Takeru A/N: I stopped fighting my clear need to write about Kizuna era. Perhaps that will make the rest of these easier. In any case, I've always adored the dynamic between Taichi and Takeru, almost more than the dynamic with their biological siblings. Found siblings are always so much fun to me, I don't know why! (Maybe because I have so many.) @taichiyagamiweek

"I never would have taken Patamon for a caffeine addict," Taichi mused, watching Patamon slurp down the frappuccino Takeru had ordered for him.

"Honestly, me neither. I think he really likes the whipped cream." Takeru was typing furiously on his laptop, reminding Taichi of the days when Koushiro had been furiously typing on his in the Digital World. But unlike Koushiro, Taichi knew that Takeru was writing instead of researching. Well, he was researching, too, in his own way, he supposed.

"Thanks for meeting me," Taichi began, nodding to Patamon. "I just… I had to see for myself that you all were fine."

Takeru nodded, giving the older boy the understanding smile that he'd always had. Even when he was eight years old, he'd had a strange wisdom about him. It was nothing like Yamato, but everything like Hikari. No wonder they got along so well. "I get it. Really, it's weird that we weren't affected." He frowned. "Well, weird that I wasn't affected. I met Patamon the same time you met Agumon."

Taichi shrugged. "The rules have always been different for you, special kid that you are." Takeru rolled his eyes, and Taichi chuckled before turning serious again. "I'd wager a guess that you're not done yet."

"Why did I have a feeling you'd say that?" Takeru sighed, reaching out to scratch between Patamon's wings. "Am I the Jou of my generation of Chosen?"

"Now that's a comparison I never thought I'd hear." Taichi let out a hearty laugh, drawing the attention of other café patrons. "But I know you can handle it. You've always been more mature than you've realized."

"It's a blessing and a curse." Takeru dramatically fanned himself, and the boys grinned at each other. The blond's eyes returned to his laptop, and he smiled. "Maybe it's something about my Crest or whatever, but I'm sure we'll all see each other again. It wouldn't make sense for them to just take them away with no hope of seeing them again."

"Always filled with hope, I get it." Leaning back in his chair, Taichi folded his arms behind his head as he'd been prone to do as a kid. "You and I are on the same page, then." But then, it was rare when they had not been on the same page, even when they were younger.

"There's another reason you asked me here, I suppose?" Takeru said, eyeing the bag on the table between them.

Taichi grinned. "I was hoping you'd ask." He dug through his bag and whipped out a sheaf of paper, presenting it to his friend. "I wanted your opinion on this."

Takeru took the papers and scanned the first page, his eyes lighting up as he took in the contents. "Your thesis? Taichi, this is—" He bit his lip and kept reading. After a few minutes, he set down the draft and smiled over at Taichi. "It already sounds fantastic."

"I'm glad you think so. Would you mind terribly taking a look through it and giving me some feedback? I don't want to turn in something half-assed. I owe Agumon that much." Taichi cupped his hands around his drink, smiling down at it. "It's because of him that I could even figure out what to do."

"I'd be happy to help out, Taichi." Takeru smiled at him, and Taichi returned the expression. Patamon slurped loudly on the remains on his drink, and the two of them laughed.

With Takeru's help, Taichi knew his thesis would be perfect.