#voleurdulouvre

[avenirbon-archive]

i think we both know which one you need to do. evermore

Who was the one to propose: Raphael. Who stressed more over wedding planning: Moji. Who decorated the house: Mostly Raphael, I bet. Who does the cooking: They take turns and, even then, end up helping the other in the kitchen. Who is more organized: Moji. Who initiates bedroom fun: Moji. Who suggested kids first: Moji, I bet. Who’s more dominant: Uhhh, I think it depends on the situation. Usually Raphael. Who’s the cuddler: Both of them tbh. Who’s the big spoon/little spoon:. Moji is the little spoon a good portion of the time. What’s their favorite non-sexual activity: Dancing and cooking. Who comes home drunk at 3am: Probably both of them. Date night or something. Who kills the spiders: Raphael. Who falls asleep first: Moji. A head canon: Gay babies. I talk about this ship too much. Their relationship summed up in a gif: >inserts gif of something puking rainbows tbhDo they have any “rituals”? She helps him undress when he gets home from his Phantom R gig. Who is louder? Probably Moji. Who is more experimental? Neither of them. Who takes more risks? Raphael. Do they fuck or make love? That is a strictly make-love relationship right there, folks. Lights on or off? Either or. Who is more likely to be caught masturbating? Neither. Who is more likely to suggest a threesome? Neither. Who comes first? Moji, probably. Who is better at oral and who prefers it? I. This question stumps me every goddamn time. Moji's good at it, but I don't think Raphael would be really. Into it, so I think they just skip the oral and get to doing the diddly dang. Who is more submissive? Depending on the situation, but mostly Moji. Who usually initiates things? Moji. Who is more sensitive? Moji. Who has the most patience? Raphael, probably. Which kinks do they share? God, they're so vanilla, there's no kinks involved. Sorry folks.

[saita-aka]

Oops here she is, all dressed up for a blind date. Her ears and tail are hidden since they're in public of course but oh, she's so nervous.

Is he even going to show up? Ko hopes he does, he was so nice.

[stutteringsoul-blog]

gimme a ♮ for claus

   ”I missed you.”

It was a smile, eased upon lips as his head tipped to the side. Emotions gliding between one thing to the next as Emil bit down the internal feelings of wanting to cry and throw himself on the ginger, knowing the damage it would cause. Knowing the pain it had previously caused. So instead it was a smile.

Words leading to actions, walking to and fro, hand lifted, taken in a friendship as the walked, Emil leaning on him ever so slightly, like someone talking with a porcelain doll. His smile never wavering, the scarf pulled tight, the scars the wound it’s way on his arms, down his back, along his front all hidden from Claus.

Or until the other accidentally caught his scarf and the cloth ripped under the pressure of the mechanical chimera’s body and it ripped. Emil yipping, hands going to cover over his throat tightly. Large bruise hiding as Claus tried apologizing and Emil laughed awkwardly, telling him it was fine. 

It was fine.

He was panicking.

Worried if he let go of his throat that Claus would see he’d gone to see his Uncle again. The other knew about it, but he didn’t want to see the anger or disappointment Claus would have, knowing Emil had gone back. Instead, he ducked his head, dipping down to grab the scarf piece that had fallen on the ground, the long cloth lucky enough to keep him from having to worry about needing anything. Wrapping it around his throat, he smiled innocently. “See? No problem!”

His body loosened but that was not the end of the adventures it seemed. Walking along with Claus it turned into a ‘hit and miss’ sort of deal. Certain things catching the material of his clothes by accident, tripping into a puddle and barely catching himself. It was just getting so strange and by the end of the day his clothes were torn up particularly bad and he sighed.

But smiled.

Hands going to a couple of ingredients that he still had with him and winked at Claus. Eggs, cheese and milk. omelets.

It seemed to lighten Claus’s mood as Emil made the food before handing it over, excusing himself to go off into the thicket. Whispering for Tenebrae, the centurion of darkness sat in front of him, a very disapproving look on his face as he saw the looks of the clothes from so early on. How Emil had managed to bumble his way into this. Demanding for them back to fix them, Emil nodded, going to remove certain pieces himself before the evaporated into darkness before Emil could even call for his old clothes for now.

Left in dark, naked, his face was beat red. Hands covering himself as he hid behind a tree. Claus’ voice calling for the blonde and he shouted how it was nothing—

Chromatic eyes glanced over to Emil and saw him. The scars he had been working so diligently hiding gone at this moment. Emil’s face red, tears beginning to swell in his eyes. “I’m sorr-sorry," he hiccuped, curling in on himself to reveal the scratched up back, the bruises and everything that continued from the from.

His continued whispers of apologies, trying to hide himself as he could while the darkness itself couldn’t even keep him hidden from the chimera. Mechanical eye able to pierce the sight lost…

[thegreatesttruthprevails-blog]

Fegs art never ceases to amaze me

[crazy-cartoon]

voleur-du-louvre to lebruitpensant:

"If I'm Phantom R and you're Phantom R, then who's looting the Louvre?"

[lebruitpensant-blog]

+voleur-du-louvre s'est abonné à votre blog

Oh, another fancy Phantom on sight! It has been a while since he met one of his alternates, and he could tell this one was a newcomer. One day should he turn that running gag into a reality, a Phantom R convention on the highest roofs surrounding the constabulary. It could be fun. Anyway. “Bonjour mon beau!”

[defenderofparis]

¥ou nerd.

Send me a ¥ if you want to know my character’s thoughts on yours even if they haven’t met

How was she going to put this? "As far as criminals are concerned, I guess Phantom R’s not so bad.” That’s putting it lightly, he did save all of Paris. “I feel a bit more comfortable having a rivalry with him since I feel I could trust that he won’t be doing any real damage.” She couldn’t believe she was saying this out loud. “But he still too annoyingly cocky!”

[avenirbon-archive]

Evermore!

who flirts more? Oh, god. Probably Imogen. She likes to see the look he gets when he gets flustered. 

how did the relationship start? Ah, I... Want to say that the start of their doki-spiral was when Raphael brought Gingerbread cookies over to her house during the dead of winter. The official start, not including all their little rendezvous, was actually at some point last week, I think.

how did they start living together? do they move? how do they choose the place? Ah! After Raphael finishes his gig as Phantom R, they move in together -- into Moji's place, I believe! I could be wrong, though. 

do they have roommates? Nope! Just each other!

do they get married (or equivalent)? Yes, actually! After Raphael pulls a shitty little move and scares the piss out of her. 

do they have kids? Eventually! I can't remember if it's just one or two.

do they have pets? Well, there's Fondue, if he counts? They both have Pokemon, though!

do they act different in public and at home? Moji is a little more at ease when she's at home with Raphael than when she's out and about. The sound of sirens still puts her on edge. 

big spoon/little spoon? They alternate, I'm sure.

sleeping habits? Lol, sleeping habits. Raphael doesn't often sleep, I don't think. Phantom R and whatnot, y'know how it goes. Moji's a relatively light sleeper because of this. 

favorite non-sexual activity? Dancing, tbh. 

favorite sexual activity? Oh. U H???? I GUESS WITH HER ON TOP??? I DON'T???? K NO W ??? 

how often do they have sex?  Probably once or twice a week? Raphael doesn't exactly have a high sex drive and Moji does her best to match that, but sometimes she just gets in the mood. 

what habits of the other drives them crazy? Raphael's awful sleep schedule and Moji's incessant need to worry all the time. 

how often do they fight? Not that often, surprisingly. 

most trivial thing they fight over? Moji worrying constantly, probably. 

who uses all the hot water? Raphael? 

who does most of the cleaning? Probably Moji since Raphael is usually ass-tired when he finally gets home. 

what do they watch on tv and do they fight for the remote? Probably gay American movies from the 90s because Raphael is a goddamn Freeaboo. 

who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working? Moji probably just walks over to Madame Paula's place and lets her know that she's called someone to fix it. 

who answers the phone? Either or. Whichever one gets to it first. 

who steals the blankets? Fondue.

who remembers things? A little bit of both. 

who does the groceries? Moji. 

who cooks normally? They cook together when they get the chance, but since Moji doesn't have to prowl the city at night, she usually cooks for him so he'll have something to eat when he gets home. 

who leaves their stuff lying everywhere? Mmm, probably Raphael. 

what kind of stuff can be found around their place? Pokeballs, a sock on the ceiling fan every once and a while, general couple things like bills and the like. 

what do their cupboards or shelves look like? I'm slowly realising that this was meant for like after they get married so I'm sure their cupboards are actually incredibly clean and well-kept. 

what does their closet(s) look like? Neat! Moji keeps her closet in impeccable order. I'm sure she organises Raphael's closet, too. 

what do they do when they’re away from each other? Moji has her career -- massage therapy and the like. Raphael has his Phantom R gig to do and his part-time job, on top of school. 

do they have nicknames or pet names for each other? Raphael calls Imogen "Moji" and she calls him "Raph" or "mon fantôme" if she's feeling particularly flirty. 

how do they refer to the other in public? how do other people refer to the other? (i.e. “my partner”, “ask your father”, ”dad and papa”, ”how’s your wife?”, etc) Moji just calls him her boyfriend [husband if we're talking that far in the future] and Raphael just calls her Moji for the most part. Everyone, at this point, has been calling them a couple, long before they even made it official, so. 

who is more likely to pay for dinner? Pre-marriage, Moji, because she makes more than Raphael does. 

how often do they go on dates? As often as Moji can convince Raphael to stay away from the Louvre. 

typical date night? out or at home? Usually at home. Going out is too much of a temptation for Raphael, the frickin' nerd. 

do they celebrate birthdays, valentine’s day, anniversaries? Birthdays, yes. Valentine's day is more of a playful jab at each other. I don't think they'd celebrate anniversaries unless they were milestones. 1 year, 5 years, 10, 20, 40.

what would they get each other for gifts? Moji makes him macarons all the time. Raphael would probably get her sheet music. 

how do they spend christmas and new year’s (or equivalent family gatherings)? Christmas is a sad holiday for the both of them, so they just spend it as quietly as they can. They visit their parents' graves a few days before Christmas and then spend the rest of the holiday snugged together without much of a fuss. Moji insists on having a Christmas tree, though. 

who cusses more? Moji!

what would they do if the other one was hurt? God, Moji would have an absolute cow. Raphael would probably try to keep a calm thought process about it, but panic inwardly. 

what are little gestures they do for each other? Moji will meet him at the door/window every night and help him undress if he's been out doing his second "job." She'll also give him massages to help him unwind. Raphael just showers her with affection. They're so gay. 

do they know how the other takes their coffee/tea? Yes, actually! Moji has the way he likes his memorised. Raphael remembers it, too, but not to the degree she does. 

do they feel they see each other enough, or do they have activities that take too much of their time? They see each other plenty enough. Moji knows Raphael's Phantom R gig takes priority over her and she doesn't push the issue unless he promised something and broke it to go do his skulking about the city. 

do they friend/follow each other on facebook/tumblr/livejournal/skype/etc? No lmao.

(added) morning routine? Wake up. Groan a lot, smile at each other, get dressed, brush teeth, smooch [maybe shower together if they're awake and have enough time], and go about their daily business. 

how do they make up after a fight? Lots of hugging and kissing tbh. 

[traitorofeternia]

zips in and drops a (￣▽￣)ノ a million years later

(￣▽￣)ノ - we don’t talk but hi~

((Hello cutie patootie!))

[cracktomroffrance]

"Every single one of us has something different about us and that's rather cool, don't you think?"

ahhhh Cracktom please

VolVol having the neatest hair is definitely a headcanon of mine.

VolVol - Voleur-du-louvre

Ryth - Rhythmicthief

Pressy - Lebruitpensant

Note: these are the nicknames of the PHantoms, not the muns, Cracktom may or may not use them.

also don't ask why I did this I did it on a whim.

[thegreatesttruthprevails-blog]

sENPAIS,,,,

[paulvergier-blog]

rhythmicthief started following you

voleur-du-louvre started following you

Was he seeing things or was this some kind of trick Phantom R had been playing on him now? Two of them? And they looked exactly alike! Vergier didn't want to believe in this strange occurrence. Though one of them had to be the real deal. Either way, he was going to catch both of them. "Don't move!"

[parisprivateeye]

voleur-du-louvre has come for assistance!

voleur-du-louvre

Sometimes it was possible for the city to be too peaceful. Ever since the incident with the Hanging Gardens, the infamous art thief had been suspiciously quiet. Sure, it hadn't been too long, but it was enough to set Charlie's nerves on edge. He was an unfinished case, and if there was something that the teen loathed was leaving something half done. It was like R knew just how maddening his absence would be to the detective and was doing it on purpose. In fact, she was almost willing to bet he was. Well, not really but she wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

So with no thief to chase and no crimes to stop, it wasn't a huge surprise that even with school and club she found herself with more free time than she knew what to do with. It was on one such afternoon that Charlie decided to spend some of that free time at her favorite cafe, in hopes that she would spot or hear something that would provide some form of excitement at least for a little while. Or that was the plan, anyway. The detective didn't have much faith in that happening, considering that she was on her third cup of coffee and beginning her second hour of watching. Maybe that was why when she spotted a familiar looking ginger-haired figure pushing through the crowd it took a moment for her to react. Only a moment though.

"R!" Her voice range out across the crowded street as she fumbled with her wallet to place the correct amount for her tab before taking off after him. Sure, she wasn't really dressed for a chase with her current outfit but hey, when had fashion ever stopped her before? Charlie pushed and pardoned her way past people before finally reaching out to catch a hold of his blue sleeve with an almost desperate gasp.

"Phantom R! Stop right there!"

[imaginerhythmthief]

Oh, look at you. You've got me drawing now. That little time loop of yours has stirred something fierce in me, and I cannot put my pen down.

:o senpai has noticed me

man i wanted to draw a little of this too butttttt

[avenirbon-archive]

Evermore, We Danced by Brad Paisley, go!

                There was a little restaurant that she had always wanted to go to. She found the opportunity to go at one point after being invited by a group of friends and clients. More than happy to hear that they wanted to go to the restaurant she had been eyeing for months, she gladly went along. The food was about what she had expected. Nothing that would make her want to go back every day but good enough to swing by every once and a while.

               It wasn't until she'd returned home when she realised she had left her purse at the restaurant. Probably tucked beneath her seat as she always tended to do. Ah, but it was late! They had stayed at the restaurant until near closing. She would have considered picking it up later the next day, but her apartment keys were tucked safely in the purse. Damn.

               When she finally stepped through the doors to the restaurant, it was empty. Chairs were placed, upside down, on the tables, the lights were cut off except for a long string of Christmas lights draped across a partition towards the back of the dining room. Right in the middle of the room was a boy-- a man, once she squinted to get a better look at him. She cleared her throat to catch his attention.

               Woops -- she'd startled him a bit. He was quick to inform her that they were closed as he propped his broom against a table, probably intent on ushering her out the door. She was just as quick to state that she'd forgotten her purse, going so far as to go into detail about what it looked like. He was cute, she'd give him that much, for as soon as she'd finished describing it, he laughed and nodded enthusiastically, chattering away that he'd placed one back behind the bar that sounded just like hers.

               His footsteps faltered and he spun to look at her, a smile curling at his lips. What a cute smile-- He was chattering away again, stumbling over his words as he claimed that he would give her her purse back on one condition. Had he not looked so... geekish, with those big glasses perched on his nose, she probably would have taken a step back and claimed that she knew karate or... something.

               All he wanted was a dance, in exchange for her purse. Easy enough, she supposed. She was particularly good at dancing. Or so she believed -- being a musician gave her a sense of rhythm that most didn't have. Dancing with him would be no problem. She heartily agreed -- after all, it was just a dance. What was the worst that could happen? 

                She had to bite back a laugh when his face flushed at her agreement, had to place her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle that hovered just at the curve of her lips when he hurriedly wiped his hands on his pants -- what, was he nervous? It was his idea, after all! Perhaps he didn't think it would work? Ah, no matter.

               They fell into a slow sway, an easy dance that wound them around tables, across the hardwood floor, slipping in and out of the glow of those Christmas lights. It wasn't anything particularly fantastic, really, but there was something about the way they moved together, something about the song that played in the background, that had her wanting to spend more time with him.

               Colour her curious, she supposed. It was a while before they realised how late it was getting, how easily they had moved with one another. He apologised profusely, slipping from her arms to snag her purse from behind the partition. She fumbled with her purse, grasping a pen in her pen and quickly scribbling down her number on his hand, before she was out the door. 

               She returned every other day after that night, until she was well known with all the other staff, until it was a quiet rumour that they were dating. A rumour that she heard and ignored, for the most part. They didn't need a label. They were them and that was all that mattered. She didn't care if they were "official" or if they were simply friends.

               It went on like that for years. One, two, three, three and a half years, all the while getting closer and closer to one another. She'd finished up her appointments early one day and opted to stop by the little restaurant as she always did. There was nothing different about the routine, nothing strange or off the wall -- except when she stepped into the restaurant, it was empty.

              Empty as it had been the first night she had met that shy redhead. Chairs, positioned upside down, were settled on tables, and there he was with a broom, sweeping away as if it wasn't in the middle of the day. The lights had been turned off -- save that same string of Christmas lights that had been replaced five or six times since they had met.

               She greeted him as she always did -- a peck on the cheek and that familiar curve to her lips. She would have questioned what was going on, would have asked where everyone was, but he was fiddling with something in the pocket of his shirt. Curiosity was always something she struggled with -- it was no surprise that she focused in on whatever it was in his pocket.

               He pulled a ring out from that pocket she was so intent on and dropped down to one knee, an uncertain smile curling his lips upward. Oh. How quickly those tears sprung up in her eyes, how quickly she pressed her hands to her mouth to stifle the surprised sob that had gotten caught in her throat. All he was asking for was her hand, all he was asking for was a chance to share a last name with her, to spend their nights together, their meals, their everything.

               Ah, but they were in an empty restaurant, with the lights turned down low. And she was quick to claim that she would marry him on one condition. She pulled him to his feet, drew him close, and... Well...

               They danced. That easy sway that lead them around tables, across the hardwood floor, in and out of the soft glow of the string of Christmas lights.

               They danced.