#muse: dark purple

[sinfully-divine]

[divinityunleashed]

That's what you get for being lazy, Nep "Tuba Sandwich" Neptune. You need to do work for Histy otherwise you'll lose your arms and legs and become a rapid bouncing ball!!

"She doesn't have to do anything."

"You will leave her alone. Or you will have to deal with me and my Master."

[redxdesign]

[breannasfluff]

The Lucky Rabbit Cafe

Collaboration, art by @dark-angel-of-muses!

Working at the Lucky Rabbit café might not be the most glamorous job, but Purple gets to do it with his brothers. Unfortunately, his brothers are also the reason he does so much work. They are just…unique. And need to be reined in. Possibly leashed.

“Right!” Purple clapped his hands together and looked over the assembled boys. Pink and Cyan are in the maid dresses and Gold and Purple wear butler outfits. All of them are outfitted with matching white bunny ears. “Where’s Gleam?”

Their errant fifth is notoriously late. Pink, who usually has the best grasp on him, just shrugs.

“Okay, well, let’s get out there and make this another bunny-tastic day!”

Gold makes retching sounds. “I want to work even less after hearing that.

“I thought it was cute!”

“Pink, you are wearing literal pink. You think everything is cute.”

“So?”

Purple can already feel his eye twitch starting. “Remember, boys, we are here to serve the customers. Not upsell”—he points at Gold—“not flirt”—Pink—“and Hylia above, Cyan, don’t just drop the food off and leave.”

Cyan avoids his gaze.

“Whatever, just get out there, and let’s open up. Someone send Gleam to me when he gets here.”

The café is freshly scrubbed, thanks to Cyan, so they need to do little more than flip the sign to open. There are already customers lined up, waiting for tables to relax for the afternoon.

“Welcome to the Lucky Rabbit café!” Pink has smiles for all the guests, leading them to their tables. When a certain pink-haired man isn’t there to distract him, he’s good at his job.

“Order up!” Purple calls, and hands one of the parfaits to Cyan. He takes the tray of drinks. Together, they head for one of the tables. Purple stares at Cyan, willing his brother to psychically pick up his thoughts. Say something nice, say something nice!

Maybe it works because Cyan grimaces and says, “Enjoy your food.”

It’s not…particularly friendly, but at least he said something. “Thank you for dining with us!” Purple chirps to make up for it.

When he gets back to the passthrough, Gleam is there.

“Hylia above! You scared me. Also, what are you…wearing?”

Gleam’s maid outfit is out at the cleaners. Purple procured a simple white shirt and a pair of black slacks for him to wear in the meantime. Neither of these items is on his person.

Instead, Gleam is wearing a…well, it’s edging on something pulled from the lingerie section. Possibly the Halloween section labeled, sexy rabbit. Goddesses, he’s even got fishnets…

“Are those real fishnets?” Purple doesn’t give him a chance to answer, just points. “Gleam, do you have honest-to-goddess fishnets on your legs?”

Gleam looks down like he has no idea how he ended up in this outfit.

“Why are you wearing this? Where did you even get it?”

He blinks. “Bunny café. Look, ears.”

Rather than the matching white ones, he’s got black ones on. At least he’s committed and gone for black eyeliner, too.

Pink pokes his head through the door. “Hey, Purple—oh, hi Gleam! You look nice—Purple, we need you to help with orders.”

“But Gleam—” Pink is already gone. Heaving a sigh, Purple turns back to Gleam. “Fine. Today you are wearing that but you need to…” play up sexy rabbit is going to end in disaster. “Just…serve customers like normal,” he settles on.

Gleam nods and vanishes out the door to the main room. Purple takes a deep breath and follows.

The shift continues without issue. Purple takes a 10-minute break in the back room and eats one of the day-old cookies they have for snacks. Each of the boys will trade breaks, but it can be dangerous to leave them unsupervised. With that in mind, Purple brushes the last of the crumbs away, straightens his outfit, and heads back out.

“—and for just a small upcharge you’ll get a photo with our new sexy rabbit! This is a limited-time offer!” Gold’s voice immediately has Purple on edge. What in Hyrule is he doing?

Gold, unaware of the looming menace of Purple, continues blithely. “Or maybe I can interest you in the double parfait option.”

The customer is leaning back slightly; Gold is crowding him. “But I’m only one person.”

“Oh, the second one is for Gleam! Don’t you want to buy a snack for our hard-working boy? Just look at him!” Gold gestures wildly and Purple turns to look.

Gleam is—by the Three, he’s napping in one of the customer’s spots!

Gold continues like this is perfectly normal. “Worked to the bone, he is. It’s hard, keeping up with all the customers. He works triple shifts, you know, all to help us put food on the table. Would you watch him suffer?”

The customer is edging off the other side of his chair. “Can I pay you to stop talking?”

“Yes,” is the immediate reply.

Great. They are going to get another bad review about this. Gold needs to stop upselling so hard. Leaving him for the moment, Purple heads for Gleam. The girl whose seat it was is standing there, watching him nap.

“Hi there! I’m so sorry about Gleam; I promise this isn’t the service we normally provide. Can I make it up to you?”

The girl turns shining eyes on Purple. “He’s so cuuuute!” she squeals. “Can I sit by him?”

“Er, he should be…working.”

Gold pops up by his shoulder. “But for a price, I’m sure we can arrange something!” The girl pulls out her wallet and Purple can practically hear the rupees chiming.

“Hey, this isn’t my food!”

Purple leaves Gold and Gleam because of course there’s another fire to deal with. Cyan brushes by him, ignoring the calls for his attention. Purple pastes on a smile. “What seems to be the issue, sir?”

“Your brother dropped off the wrong meal. I don’t mind, it's just…he’s not listening to me?”

Of course, he’s not. Purple’s smile is a little more strained. “Let me get that fixed for you right away.” Taking the plate, he heads back to the kitchen, and Cyan. “I take a break for 10 minutes and you go non-verbal?”

Cyan flips him off. “I can talk.”

“Then talk to the customers!”

“Why?”

“Because they are customers!” Purple shoves the dish in his hands. “You took that to the wrong table. Go deliver it, bring the man the right dish, and say something nice.”

His brother stares at him for a long moment, then seems to decide death isn’t in the cards today. Grabbing another plate, he leaves.

Purple lurks by the passthrough, but Cyan drops the plates off and says…something that seems to please the customer. That only leaves Pink.

He has to scan the café twice to find Pink because he’s not up and working. Instead, he’s sitting in a booth next to—oh. Of course. Rolling his eyes, Purple goes to extract Pink.

“Hello, Legend.”

The pink-haired man gives him a distracted smile, then gestures to the treats on the table. “I didn’t order these.”

“It’s on the house!” Pink chirps.

“Stop giving things away!” Gold says as he passes.

Pink sticks his tongue out at Gold’s back. Purple can feel his eye twitch. Then a hand reaches around his back and snags one of the cakes on the table.

“Drop it!” Acting on instinct, he slaps at the hand. The cake falls to the floor. Great, now they’ll have to clean— “Don’t eat that!”

Gleam, who picked up the cake and is halfway shoving it into his mouth, blinks at him.

Purple runs his hand through his hair with a moan. “Do you have any concept of germs? Customer service? Doing your job?” Unlike Cyan, Gleam just shoves the rest of the cake in his mouth and chews.

“Legend was just telling me about his day,” Pink coos.

“I was?”

The hand around his arm tightens slightly. “I mean—yes. I was. Just talking. That’s all.”

Pink’s cheeks are quickly turning the same shade as his outfit, with ears to match. So, kissing.

“Pink, please keep your canoodling after work hours.”

“I’m on break!”

“No—no! That’s now how this works!”

Behind him, Cyan passes and dumps a plate on another table, walking off without a word. “Cyan! Words!”

Gold holds out an array of photos—when did he take pictures of Gleam in that getup?—and money changes hands at another table. “Stop selling those!”

Pink plasters himself to Legend’s side and plants a loud kiss on his cheek. “Pink, you are working!”

Gleam snags another snack and wanders off, likely to invade someone’s space rather than do his job. Every day is an adventure with his brothers. An adventure in not throttling them and collecting life insurance.

Just another afternoon at the Lucky Rabbit café.

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

A rusted voice came from the darkness of fazbears fright of what used to be fredbears "hello..... Michael....come to see your ol' man?" A wheeze followed by a rotten rabbit shambles outta the darkness

@rotten-hare

Why did he even bother coming here again? After so long, it was still unsettling to even show up. However, he was silent even so to make him look. That makes this place more unsure. That's when he stops hearing a rusted voice from within the darkness.

He knew it even if he turns to look.

"Depends old man..." he mutters looking to the rotten rabbit.

[solivagantingrebel]

Dying my hair purple today 🙏

[starlightsparrowfox]

I'm apparently still bitter that the hair color industry caters more to lighter hair than mine. I wanna dye my hair purple or pink. can't do that tho cuz first things first I need to bleach. I hate that I have to kill my hair just to do something different.

[from-the-notebook]

circe tags

[sinfully-divine]

@siren-euphemia replied to your post “”:

*ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗˡʸ ᵖʳᵉˢˢᵉˢ ᴮ*

You have been spotted. Prepare to be dominated by Dark Purple.

[divinityunleashed]

"Only I am allowed to be the evil Neptune here. This is unacceptable. Prepare for the banquet of despair."

[redxdesign]

[sithsjedi]

“ the white cape might be a tad ostentatious ” @spokewar you were SO REAL to call him out on this because obi-wan is RIGHT. symbolic wardrobe or not, redeemed dooku is still the definition of ostentatious

( concept art under cut )

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

Hey Michael Afton, how would you react if Tsubasa protect you from those scary-ass animatronics your dad built? :3

"If my precious protected me from the animatronics?" He blinks to think about this, imagining his precious special one fighting them off while keeping him safe. The thought made his heart skip a beat. "..He would be my hero.." he sighed with a smile.

[evergone]

Hypocrite

Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: 18+ content (sex), swearing

Description: The reader is embarrassed by the hickies Theo left on her, but she's not one to speak.

Merlin, you were pissed. Or, maybe — maybe you were embarrassed. Afterall, there were purple and yellow bruises all over your breasts and along your collarbone and up the sides and back of your neck. Despite your best efforts, your makeup hadn’t covered them all, and the collar of your blouse kept smearing the foundation and exposing more of them to the entire student body. A student body who couldn’t stop talking about you.

“Trip down the stairs did you, Y/n?” Pansy teased.

“Our very own Slytherin slut,” Daphne laughed fondly.

“By the name of Salazar,” Blaise breathed heavily at the sight of them.

You could only sigh in frustration, your head in your palms, “Guys, stop, please. Everyone and their mothers are giving me shit about it, you don’t need to join in.”

You weren’t lying. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Snape had practically burnt a hole through your neck, and then, in Transfiguration, McGonagall had quietly asked if you needed to step out to touch up your makeup. The worst, however, was Potions with Slughorn. His opinion of you since the beginning of the year had been purely positive since your family were fairly wealthy and you achieved some of the highest grades in his class. When he saw the hickeys all over you, though, his bulbous nose had turned up in disgust and he made a most unpleasant grunt of disproval. You were sure you had made his blacklist.

“This warrants murder,” said Pansy.

“It does, doesn’t it?” You asked, “I am so fucking mad at him for this.”

Oh, but you could hardly speak.

You and Theo (your boyfriend and hickey-giver) both received invitations to a party that was held the night before, and despite knowing you had school the next day, you went. Once you were about ten drinks in, you were completed sloshed, and when you were completely sloshed, you got horny.

Though the crowd of party-goers stood between yourself and Theo, you could still see every part of him. He was just standing there, chatting with Blaise and Draco, a can of cheap beer held lazily in his right hand while his left was barely touching his hip. He was so, so hot. You bit your lip sexily then made your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing the back of his white shirt, and leaving stains of red lipstick all over it.

“Hey, Y/n, baby,” he hummed, happy from all the drinks he’d downed in the three hours prior, “What’s up?”

“Teddyyy,” you mused and stared up at him as he looked over his shoulder at you, “I want sex.”

Blaise and Draco snickered and Theo shot them a glare. After that, you can imagine what happened. Lots of moaning, groaning, grunting, panting. Enough snogging to last you both a lifetime, but not really because there was no such thing as “enough snogging,” and love making that lasted well past the rise of the sun that peeked through the window to Theo’s dorm room and illuminated every gorgeous curve of your body.

While Theo was the kind of sexual partner to want to leave marks all over you — not because he was the jealous type, just the prideful type, he liked everyone to see that he’d won you — you were the kind of sexual partner who liked it rough. You liked to feel his dick more or less pounding against your womb, so close that it almost warranted a trip to Madame Pomfrey. You liked when he thrusted into you fast, but not sloppy, always obeying your comments of ‘faster, Theo’ and ‘honey, please, I need it faster.’ But he couldn’t obey too much, you were very particular about that. He had to make you feel good, but he still had to be in control. It was always best if he gave in to every third or fourth demand, so that you had to beg for it. But the best part about rough sex with Theo? Well, it was what made you such a hypocrite.

“Mate,” Draco gaped at Theo’s back in the locker rooms before quidditch practice, “Did you get into a fight with a werewolf or something?”

Theo frowned in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

Draco motioned for Theo to move into view of the mirror and when he got a good look at his reflection he joined in the gaping. Long, red lines ran down his back like the British army at the Battle of Balaclava. He had become a canvas and you had painted him with your claws. He ought to have them clipped, Merlin’s beard.

The scratches were mostly up and down (go figure), but there were are couple that ran horizontally which Theo couldn’t place the origin of. You had torn him apart, you freak.

And that’s when you stormed into the locker room. Pucey had squealed, that was the first sign that you had entered. The second was the smart-ass warning that escaped Draco’s mouth ( “Look what the cat dragged in… or maybe she herself is the cat,” he said.

“She is the cat’s mother,” you responded, annoyed, and kicked him in the shin.

“My point still stands,” he laughed painfully).

Your hands were covering your eyes so as to not expose yourself to the privates of the entire Slytherin Quidditch team, and Theo thought you looked like a total dork in the cutest way. A pout had settled on your lips to make up for the fact that your frown was also hidden behind your hands.

“Theodore Nott!” You huffed and the locker room broke out into a chorus of ‘ooh’s, “Shut up, all of you — Theodore, look at what you’ve done to my neck.”

“I can’t really see behind your hands, lovey,” said Theo and you swore you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Use your imagination then, I’m sure you remember what you did to me last night — Oh, aren’t you all so mature,” you hissed as the boys erupted into laughter like little children.

You felt Theo’s hands settle on your hipbones as if they were arm rests. He pulled you in until your nose hit his chest and removed your hands from your face. So safe you were in his presence that you couldn’t see any of the other boys around you. With his big eyes that were more ocean-coloured than sky, he stared down at you, and flashed his brilliantly white grin.

“You aren’t much better, you know?” He said with a tone of question in his voice and continued to talk when he realised you didn’t know what he was talking about, “My back?”

He turned for you and upon seeing the mess you had evidently made on his back, you shut your mouth.

“Even?” Asked Theo.

“Even,” you nodded.

[void-tiger]

I am convinced that my high school classmate who did her own nail art on her own relatively short nails must have been a wizard.

[comatosebunny09]

You don’t know what compels you to leave the comfort of the guest bed. Just have the urge to move towards the muffled noise carrying through the stilled hallway of his mansion.

The door softly clicks shut behind you. Glacial tiles bite unforgivingly into your feet as you pad over them. You brace a hand on the textured walls to steady you, moving instinctually towards the source of a husky voice and gentle piano keystrokes.

You tug the faux fur blanket snuggly around you, blinking through the bleary haze of exhaustion. Hobble through the hallway like something half-dead. And somewhere between the alcoves and the glowing wall sconces, you hear Luke or Kieran snickering.

You must be quite the sight, hair mussed and eyes rimmed purple. Drawn from your sleep by the comforting rumble of Sylus’ voice, and it had summoned to you like a beam of light.

Finally, you reach your destination. Grasp the brisk handle of the door to his quarters, cautioning it open. The swell of noise inside welcomes you, accompanied by the aroma of scorched sandalwood, and it’s warm here. Dimly lit and homely with harmonious notes of classical music, all beckoning you deeper inside.

Off to the left, behind a bookcase, you hear Sylus. Ensnared in a conversation on the phone, his tone hushed and even. You’re sure he won’t mind the intrusion, you muse as you kick the door shut.

Mephisto clicks curiously, watching you with all the intrigue of the world. You pay him no heed, dragging yourself toward the room’s focal point. With a weighted sigh, you collapse onto Sylus’ bed, arms splayed out like you’re making snow angels.

A smile cresting over your lips, you nuzzle into the safety his bed exudes. Inhale the faint under-notes of cologne buried in the comforter, and you exhale wistfully.

Something warm wades through your innards, working like a soothing balm. You find yourself curling into the fetal position, tucking your head beneath the throw blanket you’d snatched from your room.

Fatigue washes over you, beckoning you towards a comforting mistress named Darkness. And you would fully succumb to her charms if not for the mattress dipping below the weight of the room’s other occupant.

His voice seeps through your blanket like smoke, curled around a chuckle. He gently taps your hip, tone amused.

“At this rate, you might as well sleep here with me all the time.”

This is routine, you sneaking into his room to steal his bed when he’s out on business or reading in his study. It’s more comfortable than any other bed in the manor, and it smells too much like him.

You’re too weary to argue as the heat of his body permeates through your blanket, and he molds himself to you, tugging you closer until your rear notches perfectly against his groin.

“Too tired to respond?” asks Sylus. You can hear the smirk in his voice.

You blink sluggishly, offering a noncommittal grunt in reply. Sylus chuckles low, content with stroking your arm through the thick material of the throw blanket.

“Sleep then. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

His promise is enough for you to let go.

His chin settles in the crown of your head. Breath is heavenly as its rhythm, coupled with his steady heartbeat, lulls you into a deep slumber.

You can’t recall a time that you’ve ever felt more safe.

masterlist