#purple shimmers and orange-red glow

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 21 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

Jinwoo watched you closely as he and his shadows continued their meticulous task of destroying the ant eggs and any stragglers still lurking in the nest. His soldiers, as efficient as ever, moved like an unstoppable tide, bolstered by the shimmering aura of your butterflies. Among the usual flurry of colors, Jinwoo's attention was drawn to one distinct silver—the butterfly that previously hovered near Hunter Cha, never straying far.

He frowned slightly, wracking his brain.

What was its name again? Till? No, that’s not it. Trix? Close, but no. Tick-tack-toe? Wait, what the hell? How does she even remember all of their names in the first place?" He huffed quietly, shaking his head.

He saw you gently cradle the silver butterfly in one hand, a soft smile gracing your lips as the other hand rummaged through your inventory. With practiced ease, you summoned several items that floated around you, suspended in midair. Jinwoo recognized the shimmer of a polished silver gem and the ornate design of a potion bottle filled with liquid that shifted hues between vibrant purple and fiery orange-yellow. The faint golden glow illuminated the items as if presenting them like treasures.

To his surprise, the objects dissolved into a flurry of white butterflies—tinier, ethereal creatures that resembled particles of light more than living beings. They swirled around the silver butterfly before settling into the air above the ground in front of you. Jinwoo squinted as the radiant light seemed to change shape.

When the glow subsided, he found himself staring at a kneeling figure—a woman clad in a ensemble of black and white. The design was elegant and sleek, resembling the human form Red had taken when Jinwoo first met her, yet distinct in its details. The most noticeable feature was the overlay of silver butterfly wings extending behind her, creating an effect akin to an outer skirt or flowing coattails.

Jinwoo watched as you reached out and patted the woman’s head with a fond smile.

“You’ve done well, Trick,” you said softly, your voice full of warmth.

Ah, so that’s its—her name, Jinwoo mused, filing it away in his memory.

---

Later, you watch as Jinwoo summoned the former Ant King and officially welcomed him into his legion by bestowing upon him the name Beru. The newly minted shadow bowed before his master with a deep sense of reverence, his antennae twitching in anticipation.

As you approached, Jinwoo nodded at you in acknowledgment—a subtle greeting that you returned with ease—then turned back to the task of coordinating his soldiers. To your surprise, however, Beru bowed deeply in your direction.

You raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity passing over your face. “Why do you bow to me?” you asked, your tone calm but inquisitive. “I’m not your master, nor was I the one who defeated you.”

Beru straightened slightly, his antennae twitching as if considering how best to respond. “I can feel,” he began, his voice measured and polite, “that My Liege already holds My Lady in the highest regard.” His antennae twitched again, as if punctuating the statement, and you caught the faintest shimmer of admiration in his glowing eyes.

You blinked, taken aback. Sure, some of your children called you as such, but the title “My Lady” straight from Jinwoo’s shadow soldiers was brand new, and the way Beru said it carried an odd mixture of respect and familiarity. Is this something Jinwoo instructed, or is it something Beru decided on his own? you wondered.

Though you had read the manhwa, you were unused to this side of Beru—polished, deferential, and subdued. Was it because he’s only just been awakened as Jinwoo’s soldier? you thought. You remembered how in the manhwa, Beru often showered Jinwoo with flowery praises and dramatic declarations. This version of him, freshly reborn, was a bit different.

You were about to question Beru further, curiosity piqued, when a sudden flash of silver and hints of orange-yellow entered your vision.

---

"Is she… hissing at him?" Jinwoo asked incredulously, his eyes narrowing in disbelief as the odd scene before him unfolded. His gaze flickered from the silver-haired woman—your butterfly, Trick, now manifest in her humanoid form—to the tall figure holding her aloft like a squirming misbehaved cat.

Red, your other butterfly and Trick’s elder sister in a way, stood impassively, her expression unreadable as always. The height difference made the whole situation look absurdly comedic. Trick’s thrashing, her hands clawing at the air and her feet kicking, only added to the spectacle.

"She’s definitely hissing," you confirmed with a sigh, pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose. The frustration in your voice betrayed how accustomed you were to such antics.

Jinwoo’s gaze flickered back to Beru, who stood behind him with his head slightly cocked to the side, the faintest wisps of black mist curling off parts of his neck. Trick's claws—or whatever equivalent her humanoid form had—had evidently done a number on the Shadow Ant. Her orange-streaked yellow eyes glowed with such intensity that Jinwoo couldn’t help but wonder if she was on the verge of spontaneous combustion. If Trick had chosen to use a beast-like form instead of this human one, Jinwoo imagined she’d be foaming at the mouth by now, her silver hair—fur? Whatever—would be bristling, her fangs bared, and perhaps a low growl vibrating through the air.

"Honestly, it’s like dealing with squabbling children." you muttered under your breath, though your gaze softened as it landed on Trick. The bond you shared with your "children" made their emotions as transparent to you as an open book. You knew Trick’s rage wasn’t born of whimsy—it had a cause, one tied to her fiercely protective instincts.

Jinwoo raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching in amusement. "You tell me. Did Beru step on her toes or something?"

Jinwoo looked between Trick and Beru, his lips twitching as if suppressing a laugh. “Beru,” he said finally, fixing his soldier with a questioning stare. “Do you have any idea why she’s reacting like this?”

The towering ant shifted uncomfortably, his usual air of unshakable confidence dampened. “If I may inquire, My Lady,” Beru began—Again with that, your brows slightly furrowed—his deep voice uncharacteristically measured, “what grievance have I caused to incur such wrath from your esteemed creation?” His antennae twitched as if nervously seeking your approval.

You turned your attention back to Trick, who was still glaring daggers at Beru, and let out a long sigh. “Well…” You trailed off, carefully choosing your words. "It’s not about you, exactly."

"Then what is it about?" Jinwoo chimed in, crossing his arms and leaning slightly to the side for a better view of Trick’s furious expression.

You hesitated before answering, not quite sure whether to laugh or groan at the absurdity of it all. "You hurt her favorite friend," you finally explained.

Jinwoo frowned, tilting his head. “Her favorite friend?”

“Hae-In,” you clarified, crossing your arms and shooting Trick a knowing look. “Trick has a soft spot for her. She’s been watching over her ever since we met her. Seeing you injure her during the raid must’ve left a… lasting impression.”

Beru’s posture straightened, though the faintest trace of guilt crept into his expression. “Ah,” he said quietly. "I see. My actions during my life as an ant appear to have caused unintended grief. For this, I offer my sincerest apologies, to My Lady and her esteemed creations.”

You only sighed, still not getting used to Beru’s…politeness to you. Jinwoo raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, but said nothing as the scene continued to unfold. Red, meanwhile, silently tilted her head, her question clear even without words. You caught her gaze and waved her off. “It’s fine, Red. Let her go.”

Red nodded and gently set Trick down. The moment her feet touched the ground, Trick darted toward Beru like a missile. Before she could reach her target, however, she froze mid-air, a faint golden aura wrapping around her as your hand glowed softly. You lifted her effortlessly, the action reminiscent of a mother cat carrying her kitten by the scruff. Jinwoo let out a low chuckle at the sight, unable to help himself.

“Trick,” you called gently, your tone firm yet kind. Her glowing orange-silver eyes snapped to yours, and the fiery anger within them dimmed slightly. “I know you’re upset, but remember—Beru is one of Jinwoo’s shadows now. He’s not our enemy anymore.”

Trick’s lips pressed into a thin line, and though her arms crossed stubbornly, she offered no further resistance. Reluctantly, you lowered her to the ground.

“Good girl,” you said softly, patting her head. At your touch, Trick practically melted, leaning into your hand like a contented cat. Jinwoo could almost see the image of her butterfly form, wings glowing in delighted contentment.

"You’ve got an interesting way of keeping everyone in line," he remarked, his voice laced with amusement.

You shot him a dry look. "Says the guy with an army of shadows who jump at his every whim,"

He shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Touché.”

Beru stepped forward cautiously, bowing deeply. “My Lady, I assure you, I will strive to amend this misunderstanding and avoid offending your creation in the future."

You waved a dismissive hand, already tired of the situation. “Just avoid provoking her. She’s protective, that’s all.”

“Protective is an understatement,” Jinwoo muttered, earning himself another glare from you.

“Bad,” you chided Trick when she moved to lunge at Beru again. She froze instantly, her shoulders slumping as if your single word had deflated her entirely. Her lips trembled, and she whimpered like a scolded child, teary-eyed and all that.

Satisfied she wouldn’t try anything else, you turned back to Jinwoo. “Don’t push it,” you warned, your tone carrying a sharp edge.

Jinwoo raised his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk remained firmly in place. “Noted.”

---

"Do your best, My Child. Fool them to their deaths."

Jinwoo remembered the exact words you said to Trick when he ordered Beru to eliminate the rest of the ants, especially the ones that managed to escape the island’s perimeters.

As the cleanup of the ant colony continued, Jinwoo observed Trick in action. She commanded her silver siblings with ruthless efficiency, her abilities seamlessly complementing Beru’s as they tracked down and eliminated the remaining ants.

"For someone who was plotting Beru’s murder just moments ago, she works very well with him," Jinwoo remarked, his tone light as he glanced in your direction.

You didn’t miss a beat. “I taught all my children to separate work and personal grievances, thank you very much.”

“Uh-huh,” Jinwoo replied, the skepticism evident in his voice. His gaze shifted back to the battlefield, where a particularly large cluster of ants was being lured directly into Beru’s path, clearly overloading him with unnecessary targets.

Jinwoo smirked. "You sure about that?"

“She’s sending way too many ants toward him, isn’t she?”

"I'd appreciate it if you can tell her to stop, but...” Jinwoo drawled out with a grin.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exasperation washing over you for the nth time today.

He chuckled, "Good thing my new soldier’s tough enough to handle her, huh?"

Before you could respond, the system’s obnoxiously cheerful tone chimed in.

[You lost this time, ‘Trial’ Player.]

You groaned, turning away, determined not to give Jinwoo and the system the satisfaction of seeing your frustration. As futile as it was, you continued to mutter under your breath.

“Damnit.”

---

Breaking News!

"5th Jeju Island Raid Ends with Unprecedented Results!"

4802 hunters in participation. 727 regular awakened mobilized. Of those, 46 awakened lost their lives, and 32 civilians sustained injuries—historically the lowest numbers for a raid of this magnitude!

Special Note: Flowers mysteriously appearing during the battle have left many intrigued. “What’s the deal with these flowers popping up out of nowhere?!” exclaimed one baffled netizen.

18 hunters announced immediate permanent retirement post-raid, citing personal reasons. Notably, Min Byung-Gyu, the esteemed Healer who returned from the brink of death, is among them. However, Hunter Min declined to comment further.

---

As the memorial service for the fallen Hunters drew to a close, Jinwoo lingered in the crowd to pay his respects. His expression was unreadable, a careful mask concealing the myriad of emotions beneath. He had done his part, both in the raid and in honoring the sacrifices of the deceased.

"I don’t know how you did it, but…" Baek Yoonho added after his previous statements to Jinwoo, voice thick with emotion. "Thank you. For saving him."

Jinwoo paused, his lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "It’s not me you should be thanking for that," he replied simply, offering no further explanation, his tone laced with quiet conviction. Without waiting for a response, he turned to leave, leaving Baek Yoonho staring after him, puzzled but still thankful.

Jinwoo's gaze swept the crowd until his eyes landed on Cha Hae-In. She stood a short distance away and caught his eye, her expression warm as she mouthed a quiet, ‘Thank you.’ Jinwoo nodded once in acknowledgment, appreciating the sincerity in her unspoken words.

As his eyes continued to roam, they eventually found you, standing still among the mourners. Your posture was still and composed, a faintly distant look in your eyes as though you were seeing beyond the moment, even as your head bowed slightly in reverence. When you noticed his gaze, you met it briefly before closing your eyes and turning back to the solemn proceedings, making no effort to move or acknowledge him further. Jinwoo took it as a sign.

Alright, Jinwoo thought as he noticed the Association’s official approaching, informing him that Chairman Go Gunhee wishes to speak with him. I needed to talk with him too anyway, as he followed the official, his eyes flickered back to you one last time. Huh, for a fleeting moment, he allowed himself a small observation.

She looks good in black.

---

Jinwoo should’ve finished his talk with the Chairman by now.

You thought as you slowly made your way toward the edge of the memorial grounds. The crowd was thinning, the lingering sense of grief and loss still hung in the air, but it was something you had grown accustomed to in this world, where sacrifice and loss often overshadowed victory. You had done what you could. The lives lost had been honored, and those who had survived could move on, at least for a while.

Out of the corner of your vision, a butterfly caught your eye—its wings shimmered in hues of green, black, and silver as it fluttered through the mourners—the child you had tasked to keep watch over a certain healer. Now it circled nearby as if to confirm the man’s presence.

Though you hadn’t expected him to notice you.

What were the odds? For him, standing in the middle of the sea of mourners, to notice you in the far back-end?

Your gaze drifted in the direction it came from, from where you stood, your gaze locked with Min Byung-Gyu’s. Recognition flickered briefly in his eyes before he looked away, his expression carefully neutral. You mirrored his action, calmly turning and continuing on your path.

You trusted him—he had made his vow to stay silent about what had transpired in that strange, timeless space where the two of you had crossed paths. Still, his awareness of you felt like a ripple in still water, a detail you couldn’t entirely dismiss. Though, should Min Byung-Gyu ever stray from his promise, the system would intervene.

Just as you began to retreat into your thoughts, a familiar voice broke through.

"(Name)."

You turned to see Jinwoo approaching with his usual gait. And, as you fell into steps beside him, he slowed his pace to match yours.

"When are you free?" he asked, his tone casual but with an undertone of anticipation.

You only hummed, tilting your head slightly, indicating to him that you'd need a bit more context than that.

"For that dinner," Jinwoo clarified.

Oh. Your steps faltered briefly.

---

"Sir?!" Woo Jinchul's voice rose in panic as Chairman Go Gunhee suddenly collapsed to his knees. The aide was at his side in an instant, his hands steadying the older man as he gave him a reassuring pat on the arm.

His sharp mind momentarily dulled by a wave of overwhelming warmth that left him gasping, Go Gunhee only laughed lightly, dismissing his subordinate's concern with a wave of his hand. "My apologies, Jinchul," he said, his voice calm despite the situation. " These old bones are finally starting to show their age. "

"Chairman, this isn't something to brush off!" Jinchul protested, his grip firm as he helped the older man back to his feet, then to a nearby bench. The concern etched across his features was evident, his brow furrowed deeply as he assessed the chairman's condition.

"Sir, should I call for a medic? We can—"

"That won't be necessary," Go Gunhee interrupted gently but firmly, shaking his head.

However, Go Gunhee’s attention was no longer on his subordinate— his sharp, seasoned gaze fixed on the direction Hunter Sung Jinwoo had disappeared moments earlier. Or rather, where they had disappeared.

It was ancient, commanding, and unyielding. Like a fragment of an endless abyss brushing against his very soul.

—Kneel. You are in the presence of [][][] [][][][][][][].

The fragmented sensation lingered, a half-heard whisper reverberating in the depths of his consciousness. It wasn't the first time he had felt something like this, though the last occasion was buried in the annals of his long memory, far back when the world was still grappling with the sudden appearance of Gates.

Yet, the air still thrummed with a residual warmth, all-encompassing and unrelenting, an energy that felt simultaneously divine and otherworldly. It wasn’t Jinwoo’s presence that lingered this time. It was hers.

“Chairman?” Jinchul’s voice brought him back, laced with worry.

“Hmm,” Gunhee hummed in thought, forcing himself to focus. “Woo Jinchul,” he called, his voice steady but thoughtful.

"Sir?" The younger man straightened immediately, awaiting orders.

"Investigate the young woman who accompanied Hunter Sung today," the Chairman instructed, his tone firm despite the fatigue in his posture, his gaze still fixed on that same direction. "I believe I’ve seen her somewhere before. Perhaps in our records of Hunters."

Jinchul hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "Understood, sir. I’ll pull up all available data and cross-check our archives. Do you have any specific details that might help narrow the search?"

Gunhee's gaze remained, his thoughts distant. "No… but something tells me she isn’t someone we can overlook. There's an aura about her—" he paused, searching for the right words, "—similar to Hunter Sung, like she’s walked through storms most of us can't even imagine, though notably subtler."

Jinchul glanced toward that direction as well, though no trace of Jinwoo or his companion remained. "Do you believe she’s a threat, sir?"

"Threat?" Gunhee repeated softly. He tilted his head slightly, pondering the question. "No… not quite.”

“Let’s just say... it’s better to err on the side of caution.”

Jinchul's frown deepened as he processed the chairman’s words.

"I’ll begin the investigation immediately," Jinchul assured.

"Good," Gunhee said, finally tearing his gaze away. "Let me know as soon as you find anything."

"Yes, Sir," Jinchul replied, already mentally cataloging the resources he’d need to dive into such a search.

As Jinchul guided him toward the car, Go Gunhee couldn’t shake the lingering impression. For years, he had dedicated himself to understanding the dangers that plagued their world, studying Hunters, Gates, and the forces behind them. Yet here he was, feeling unsettled by the presence of one woman.

As they drove away, he couldn’t help but glance out the window, back toward the direction Jinwoo and the woman had gone.

What kind of secret was Sung Jinwoo hiding now?

End Note:

Unfinished Draft of [25/11/2024] -

[wordsvomit101]

That awkward moment when you realized that your big bro got laid with the person you tried to kill.

Author Notes: Credits to @eternal_auditor & @jazeswhbhaven, I got this idea for this shameless worldbuilding headcanons for Heaven and Angels thanks to both of them and the latter's "Angel Bros Headcanons: Michael Flips" post. I also just want to write the scenario in general. Warnings: Raphael is a caution flag himself, depictions of violence, thoughts of brutalizing and eating someone (being directed at MC) by Raphael, a lot of name-calling from Raphael directed at MC

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

(Heaven - Time of Councils and Assemblies)

In the tranquil embrace of Heaven, evening descends like a gentle caress, casting a soft golden hue upon the timeless realm. As the radiant sun dips below the horizon of ethereal clouds, the celestial landscape is bathed in hues of pink, orange, and purple, creating a breathtaking tapestry of colors that stretches across the vast expanse of the heavenly domain. The sky is like a canvas painted lovingly by the hands of God, with the colors of a thousand sunsets, each stroke a masterpiece of divine artistry. The clouds, like celestial brushstrokes, dance across the canvas, their forms ever-changing, their edges illuminated with an ethereal glow.

Amidst the celestial splendor, angelic beings gracefully glide through the sky upon the archways of purest gold span the thoroughfares of Heaven, their graceful curves reminiscent of angelic wings in flight. Beneath these archways lie crystal atriums, their transparent walls revealing the celestial wonders of Heaven in all their resplendent glory. Their iridescent wings shimmer with divine light, flying gracefully as if they dance and pirouette in ethereal ballets, painting radiant trails of luminescence across the sky.

The lower-ranking angels engage in celestial chorales, their melodious voices intertwining in harmonies that resonate throughout the Heaven. The soaring soprano of archangels blends seamlessly with the velvety alto of cherubim, weaving a symphony that would uplift the soul and transport the listener to realms of pure bliss. The music reverberates through the celestial expanse, like a cosmic symphony conducted to worship the Almighty.

For middle-ranking angels, their beloved duty during the Pilgrimage to the Mount of Revelation to commune with their dear creator has to be despairingly pushed to merely Contemplation of Sacred Texts and attending to the Halls of Eternal Wisdom, a lesser, but an honorable duty nonetheless.

Even higher above, amidst ethereal spires and resplendent palaces that grace the heavenly expanse, angelic artisans toil diligently within the Halls of Artistry. Their deft hands sculpt magnificent statues and weave intricate tapestries, each a testament to the wonders of creation. They yearn for the day when their divine creator will bestow upon them a glimpse of their artistry, even a millisecond of recognition for their unwavering dedication to him would be more than enough.

While other angels tend to the flourishing celestial flora in the Gardens of Eternal Bliss. Radiant blooms burst forth in a splendor of colors, their petals shimmering with an otherworldly luminescence. The angels nurture these heavenly gardens with love and care, a single damage to a petal of these beautiful flowers is enough to have their heads roll to the disgusting pit of Hell, however making a mistake in God's favorite garden is an even bigger sin.

It is a mundane day for all of them.

Bang!

"Sir-!"

Creak!

"AAAAAA-!"

Crunch!

"I have yet to finish my prayer-!"

Snap!

However, it wouldn't be a normal day if there wasn't a Raphael brutally tearing and eating fleshes of every angel on his path to the Chamber of Divine Counsel to meet with other Seraphs. His blood-caked shoes thundering over polished marble as he swaggers through the vaulted corridors of Heaven, his crimson-smeared wings unfurling like banners of carnage. Red marred his short blonde hair and white attire. With each wrathful step, he leaves a trail of dismembered angel carcasses, their alabaster feathers floating like ethereal snowflakes in his wake. His crimson eye fully emits an aura of violence and fury.

Thump!

Bursting into the Chamber of Divine Counsel with enough force to make the office tremble, the room was bathed in an ethereal glow, and the other Seraphs present, Gabriel and Michael, sat in their resplendent chairs, their expressions inscrutable. Raphael's form, however, drenched in the gore of his victims, stood in stark contrast to the pristine surroundings. He only has one thought of personally feasting upon that purple hair wench's flesh when she is still alive and making her watch herself being devoured alive and cut off her tongue so she couldn't even voice out her pain.

"Why... Why is it always her...! That bitch!"

The pure white chairs, crafted from the finest celestial ivory, bore the brunt of his rage, splintering and crumbling under his kicks. Yet Gabriel and Michael, their faces devoid of emotion, paid him little attention.

"If you insist on throwing a tantrum, I implore you to do so in a realm more suited to such sorrowful displays. Hell would accommodate your temperaments more appropriately."

Michael stood tall over the intricately designed long table with a mindmap and countless brainstorming notes. Standing in a place Brother Lucifer used to stand in each council meeting. His glare locked on the furious blonde seraph before him. A frown, as if carved in stone, creased his handsome face, adding an air of solemnity to his prideful demeanor. Around his neck, a regal purple choker, embellished with ornate gold rings and shimmering gemstones, encircled his throat. At its center, a prominent gold ring held a solemn cross pendant, its gentle clinking accompanying his every movement.

In a swift motion, Michael tilted his head to the left, displaying effortless grace as he dodged the flying chair hurtling towards him at high speed. The chair collided with the wall, its impact leaving a deep dent in the panel, a testament to the force behind the throw.

"Shut that shitty mouth of yours! Maybe try to go down there yourself to ask why our dear brother is entertaining trash!" As Raphael spoke, his voice trembled with anger and frustration, his words dripping with venomous accusation. A few veins already popped on his crazed, striking appearance. Filled with unrepressed anger that led him to kill his spies who reported to him and fly from the dungeon up here.

Yet Michael continued to look at his notes, his face blissfully indifferent. His right hand continued to write on many of his papers on the white table.

"He has simply strayed from the right path."

Brother Lucifer’s footstep-less feet headed for the vile tiny red devil.

'Stop it.'

However, he couldn't say the same about his head. Memories he had been trying to wipe from his mind for years served only to haunt him. Taunting him of the gut-wrenching event more than a hundred years ago.

In the silence, pure white hands pushed through the grass and preciously held up the rotten red thing.

'Don't dirty your hands.'

His brother stroked that thing's body so softly with his hands so similar to how he once did with Michael's face. Those strong, beautiful hands that once held his face so tenderly to wipe his tears away. As he placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

'Brother...'

"I remain confident in my ability to guide him back to the right path." 

His brother's hand was holding Michael’s ray of light. The light in Brother Lucifer’s hand had stopped in front of the disgusting beast's chest, unable to advance further. He was again protecting worthless things that didn't deserve his grace.

'Why did you save it?!'

When his brother finally stood before Michael on his third step, black energy, not white, began to flow from his body.

'No-NononononoNONO-'

From his beloved brother’s head, the gorgeous head of the Morning Star, bright red horns that were the same color as the vile thing that tempted him began to grow.

'Brother- Brother Lucifer please!'

"You shall witness it in due time."

"I love you, my brother. Which is why I will give you one last chance. Return."

Crack!

The force of Michael's left hand left a massive crack in the opulent crystal marble table that trailed down to the other end of it. Effectively bringing clarity back to Raphael as the blonde gazes at Michael's hard knuckle gripping the table painfully, ignoring the blood pooling down to the marble floor and further dirtying the former pristine chamber.

Michael's abrupt actions were met with an air of knowing silence from the two. It wouldn't be far-fetched if they possessed a secret understanding of his motivations that would elude outsiders.

"Hmph," a scoff rang out and pierced the silence of the room, originating from the slender man with platinum blonde hair seated to Michael's right. His face, though classically handsome with a pale complexion, remained stoic and emotionless, belying the arrogance that dripped from the single syllable he uttered.

"Then you better live up to those words."

Gabriel's lean was a graceful movement, his body sinking into the chair as if it were a throne. His arms crossed over his chest, the crisp white of his shirt contrasting sharply with the gleam of the gold chain that adorned his white jabot ruffle shirt. The fabric of his sleeves rustled softly against the delicate filigree, creating a symphony of subtle sounds that echoed through the silent room. His eyes, deep and enigmatic, surveyed the scene before him, his expression a mixture of amusement and quiet contemplation.

"Furthermore, even in his current state, Brother Lucifer still demonstrates a reverence for God. It is conceivable that his actions are merely a symptom of his yearning for God's divine presence."

In this timeless realm, where Gabriel proudly proclaims to reign supreme as the epitome of seraphic obedience, there exists but one for whom he would willingly surrender his esteemed position: Brother Lucifer. The firstborn of God's creations, Brother Lucifer's devotion to his Maker surpassed all others, earning him the title of Morning Star. His brilliance illuminated the heavens, casting an unrivaled radiance that even Gabriel's wings could not obscure.

It was Brother Lucifer who instilled within the celestial choirs the rituals and observances that expressed their gratitude to the Almighty. Yet amidst his unwavering piety, Brother Lucifer adhered to a solitary discipline known only to himself. Only a select few had glimpsed this secret regimen, elusive even to those who had followed his every step for countless eons.

Solitary would not be said without Brother Lucifer's name being attached to the word. He found solace in his own construction of hallowed sanctuaries. These Majestic Temples of Worship at odd places in Heaven served as his solitary refuge, where he could commune with the divine without the distractions of others. His devotion ignited a spark in other angels, who, inspired by his example, crafted Halls of Artistry. They sculpted countless colossal statues of the Almighty, their grandeur exceeding the limits of mortal imagination.

No one dared step one foot into his havens, they were for Brother Lucifer alone, and death would be upon those who broke that unspoken rule.

Yet there were times he allowed Gabriel to join him during Celestial Meditation in the secluded Garden of Eternal Reflection, a sacred sanctuary hidden deep within the heart of Heaven. Here, amidst the fragrant blossoms and tranquil pools, Brother Lucifer let Gabriel join his silent meditation and prayers. It was one of the highlights of Gabriel's day when his brother was still around.

"Not if he is messing with the descendant of Solomon."

Raphael's voice now had the former rage in it that reminded him of what he came here for, to be in these two insufferable presences. He could barely believe it when one of his spies uttered those words out of their useless mouth. That Lucifer? The Morning Star? His brother who despises Solomon as much as any other angel and the one that would bite another head off if they recklessly touched him even in the rendezvous night at the sacred Eternal Flame at the heart of Heaven where they allowed themselves to let loose for a bit?

It sounds fucking unbelievable, but when they show him a picture of that purple-haired vixen bumping parts with his brother, it sends him off the reels. He kills most of the spies and storms out of his favorite dungeon to here.

"Pardon?" Michael's mismatched eyes bulged, his neck creaking and twitching as he stared up at Raphael in a frenzy of incomprehension, his falsely composed display gone. The mere hint of the truth was liable to send the black-haired Seraph into a rampage and murder them all.

"Are you suggesting..." Gabriel's face, previously etched in stoicism, crumbled into a mask of horror. He couldn't believe the words that had escaped Raphael's lips, but he couldn't shake the realization that was slowly creeping upon him. He desperately wished that the words that came out of Raphael's mouth were nothing more than a cruel jest, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

"I said, he's with the descendant of Solomon, that purple-haired harlot...that traitor....that cheat- That tempting trash!"

It pissed Raphael off even more as he raised his voice volume, veins now appearing on his throat, especially at the reminder of his text with that two-timer. The sheer self-satisfied energy radiating off his phone screen almost makes him fly down to Hell to choke that bitch until her brain pops out of her head himself.

"This is preposterous...impossible..." Michael's jaw hung slack, his eyes wide with disbelief as Raphael's accusations cut through the air like a madman who had just been cheated on. His normally steady stance faltered, replaced by a palpable sense of hysteria that made his body tremble. He stumbled backward, his back colliding with the cold, unforgiving wall as if seeking solace from the onslaught of emotions that threatened to consume him. The wall provided no comfort, its smooth surface a stark contrast to the turmoil raging through his body.

"I'm not joking. I heard her talking about Lucifer, his scar, his... 'thing'," The mere mention of his beloved brother's private part sends shivers down his spine as his voice quivered. The thought of that conniving bitch taking full advantage of the trust Brother Lucifer had placed in her made his blood boil with simmering rage. And that she dared to go against her promise to him as if those moments they shared in the poisonous sky of Hell meant nothing.

"She knows his exact measurements!- You know what, look at this shit yourself!" With a resounding slam that echoed through the room like a thunderclap, he unveiled the damning evidence: a collection of photographs frozen in time, capturing moments of intimate interaction between Lucifer and the individual in question.

The images fell upon the table with a heavy thud, causing the fragile surface to tremble under the weight of their revelation. Despite the force of impact that threatened to shatter the fragile table beneath them, the pictures remained intact, their unspoken truth radiating from their glossy surfaces like a painful revelation begging to be acknowledged.

Michael's face contorted with a ghastly twitch as if he were attempting to conjure laughter, but the sound that escaped his lips was more akin to a hollow echo in the thick, suffocating atmosphere. "Shut up," his mind struggled to piece together the unthinkable truth that lay sprawled before him like a macabre revelation. Denial, a feeble shield against the onslaught of evidence, crumbled before the weight of reality, leaving him quaking.

"I swear before Thrones of Heavenly Majesty I will make her rue the day she even touched him. She corrupted him and brought him over to the side of temptation. God would never-" As Gabriel's solemn vow echoed through the room, the air crackled with the intensity of his conviction, thick with the gravity of impending retribution for the sinner.

His words struck a nerve, exacerbating Michael's fraying composure. The gravity of the situation bore down upon him like a suffocating weight, his anger bubbling to the surface in fervor.

"FUCKING SHUT UP! IT'S NOT REAL! IT'S NOT REAL!" Michael's voice cracked with anguish and insanity, his outburst sending shockwaves through the chamber. In his distress, the chamber was engulfed in an inferno, casting eerie shadows that danced upon the walls. In the distance, the echo of Michael's despair mingled with the desperate prayers and curses of those trapped within the blazing office. The once-orderly chamber had become a scene of utter chaos and destruction.

"O, Almighty Creator," Gabriel's voice trembled with urgency, his words a fervent entreaty to the absent God above. "Grant us clarity in this hour of darkness, illuminate our path with Your divine light."

Meanwhile, Gabriel's attempts at prayer offered little solace as he grappled with the implications of Raphael's revelations.

His murmurs grew more frantic with each passing moment, a desperate attempt to find solace in the face of unsettling truths. "Guide us through this tempest, O Lord, for we are adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Let Your wisdom be our compass, and Your mercy our salvation."

But despite his fervent appeals, only shrieks and flames answer back, echoing throughout Heaven from the burning chamber they're in.

"She said she'd only do that with me..." Raphael’s voice cracked with bitterness, each word laced with venomous resentment. His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms as he fought to contain the seething anger threatening to consume him whole. "...she lied...she lied..."

The weight of betrayal hung heavy in his heart, suffocating him with its oppressive presence. Raphael's chest heaved with each labored breath, his heart aching with the sting of betrayal. "Fucking cheater..." His words dripped with venom, the bitterness of betrayal poisoning his soul.

With a primal snarl, Raphael's control shattered like glass, shards of rage cutting deep into his consciousness. He lashed out blindly, his teeth sinking into the flesh of a passing stupidly brave angel that came to check on the three Seraphs, the taste of blood a bitter reminder of his own foolishness.

"I hate her..." The words escaped his lips in a guttural growl, each syllable dripping with raw fury. His grip tightened around the angel's trembling form, nails digging into flesh as he sought to vent his pent-up rage on an unwitting victim.

"I'm not sloppy seconds..." Raphael's voice cracked with rage, his crimson eyes ablaze like a firestorm. He tore into the angel's flesh with savage ferocity, his actions a grotesque display of his inner turmoil. "...I'm no side bitch!"

Boom!

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"Hm?", in the dim recesses of his grandiose office, Lucifer, who was engrossed in his craftsmanship of carving the statue of the divine, lifted his gaze from his artistic endeavor by the sudden but subtle yet discernible disturbance in the island above the sky of Hell.

His pure white eyes shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Despite the plaster and pigments that adorned his once-pristine garments save for his bloody back that had his broken wings. His form radiated a timeless beauty, marred only by the grim expression on his handsome visage.

The sensation he felt was like a creeping up from above, like a ripple in the placid waters of a celestial lake.

'What are those three getting angry at right now?'

Raon, who was perched upon the plush velvet couch that adorned his office, her tall form immersed in the pages of an ancient tome, looked up swiftly at Lucifer's voice, a rare occurrence after hours of silence.

Once she raised her gaze from the text, her curious eyes meeting Lucifer's form with silent inquiry. Normally, she would wait until Lucifer is willing to tell her what is on his mind, but currently, she is bored and needs a break after reading several magic grimoires Lucifer gave her and practicing with them for almost a whole day.

'Let's just hope he will at least give me a short answer.'

"Um, Lucifer, is there something wrong?" Raon's voice, soft and tentative, carried a note of concern as she awaited his response, her gaze fixed unwaveringly upon him.

Lucifer's answer was measured, his words carrying the weight of foreboding. "I feel there's a disturbance. There would be a storm soon," he left out the part that it was most likely his brothers being angry about something again.

"Is it related to the angels?" Yet the young woman still managed to catch onto the hidden message, her question not directed at ordinary angels but at his brothers as she nervously tightened her grip on her grimoire.

Lucifer nodded solemnly. "Very likely," he confirmed. His gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon but his voice relaxed to ease the lady's tension as he contemplated the unfolding events in the celestial realm.

"Oh, then I will get back to my training-", with a subtle shift of his form, he turned his attention back to Raon, his gaze meeting hers with a serene intensity as he stood up to clean himself with a swipe of his finger. He tidied himself with a cleaning spell and put his tools and statues back into their orderly places without doing so himself physically—a casual display of his magic that Raon wishes to get to one day.

"It's fine," Lucifer assured her, his tone gentle yet authoritative. "Let's take a rest. Care to join me for a walk to the observatory room?" Quietly, he held out his right arm for her to hold on to if she wanted to accompany him.

Raon's heart fluttered at the invitation, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to contain her excitement. "Really? I-I mean, of course! Please lead the way." Her words spilled forth in a rush of eagerness, her eyes shining with anticipation as she rose from her seat and she excitedly but carefully walked over to Lucifer's spot.

As Raon raised her gaze, a silent query lingering in her eyes, she studied the handsome devil's countenance for the slightest hint of unease. Finding none, she shyly reached out and clasped his arm, a silent agreement passing between them. Together, they embarked on a leisurely stroll, the pace unhurried yet purposeful.

Lucifer, typically swift in his movements, slowed his steps to accommodate Raon, pausing whenever she expressed a desire to linger and marvel at the exquisite white blossoms that adorned Paradise Lost, a sight reserved only for the privileged few. The air was filled with a sense of tranquility and reverence as they meandered through the garden, each step bringing them closer to their destination, yet allowing them to savor the beauty that surrounded them. Unbothered by the chaos that is currently exploding in Heaven.

[thebunnednun]

Golden Afternoon Monkey D. Luffy x StrawHat! Reader

You and your caption relax together during a sunset before dinner.

Reader is GN and it can be read as platonic or romantic.

On with the show!!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was beginning its descent, casting a golden glow over the deck of the Thousand Sunny. The ship rocked gently with the rhythm of the ocean, creating a soothing cadence that matched the lazy afternoon. You and Luffy were nestled in his hammock, its soft fabric cradling you both in a cocoon of warmth and comfort.

The world around you was tranquil; the crew was taking a well-deserved break, lounging around and enjoying the serene atmosphere. The breeze from the ocean was a refreshing contrast against the fading warmth of the afternoon sun. It drifted over your shoulders, carrying with it the salty tang of the sea and the gentle scent of the ship's wood.

Luffy's tan skin was a comforting warmth against you as he held you close. His presence was both grounding and comforting, his rhythmic humming a soft backdrop to the sounds of the ship. His hand threaded through your locs with a tender, rhythmic touch, while the other caressed the gentle curve of your back. The sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin was soothing, a perfect counterpoint to the cooling breeze.

He whispered softly, his breath tickling your ear, urging you to look at the horizon. You shifted onto your elbows slightly, feeling the hammock adjust to your movement as Luffy helped you turn over. His touch was gentle, lifting his straw hat from your head and guiding you so that you could face the lights rays. As you settled back into his embrace, you were now lying with your back against his chest, his legs intertwined with yours. The sunset painted the sky in rich hues of orange and pink, a vibrant contrast against the deepening blue of the ocean.

You propped yourself up slightly, eager to see the light reflecting off the water. The golden red hues of the sun danced across the waves, creating a shimmering path that seemed to lead right to the horizon. As the sun made its final dip, Chopper's voice rang out with cheerful enthusiasm. "Good night, Sun!" he called out, his voice filled with innocent delight. It was a simple, heartfelt moment that made you smile.

Sanji, ever the diligent chef, stood up from his seat and began to serve dinner, the aroma of his cooking wafting through the air. The colors of the sky continued to shift, the vibrant blues and oranges giving way to cooler shades of pink and dusky purple. A few stars began to peek out from the deepening sky, twinkling softly in the fading light.

Luffy's cheeky, playful smile never wavered as he pressed his cheek gently against your shoulder. You looked down to find him gazing up at you with a bright, infectious grin. His eyes sparkled with warmth and affection, and it made your own smile widen. You leaned into him, pressing your nose against his cheek, and let your foreheads rest together in a tender, intimate gesture.

The world seemed to slow down, the beauty of the sunset and the closeness of Luffy creating a moment of pure, unspoken calm. The gentle caress of the breeze, and the warmth of Luffy’s embrace all combined to make this moment feel timeless and perfect. You felt at peace, wrapped in the simple joy of being together, as the sky continued to change colors and the stars took their places in the evening sky.

The moon was just beginning to peek out from behind the horizon when Sanji’s voice rang out, "Come on, you two, dinner!"

Luffy didn't need to be told twice. With an excited gleam in his eyes, he scrambled out of the hammock, taking you with him in one fluid motion. His arms were strong and steady as he lifted you effortlessly, your squeals of delight mingling with his joyful laughter. The two of you tumbled onto the deck, giggling like children as Luffy steadied you both.

The crew watched on, their faces illuminated with affection. Zoro smirked, leaning casually against the railing, while Nami and Robin exchanged knowing smiles. Usopp chuckled, shaking his head at Luffy’s boundless energy, and Franky gave a thumbs-up, his grin as wide as ever. Chopper clapped his hooves together in delight, his eyes shining with happiness.

Luffy's excitement was infectious, and you couldn't help but smile as he carried you toward the promise of a delicious meal and the warmth of your friends. 

You’d be asleep in his arms again soon enough. ______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @orange-milky @xxsliverwolfxx @mochiclouds @m0rona @thealtofvalleyxdoodles

I own none of the art or characters!!

Posted on the ao3 account soon.

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a fic for almost everyone here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ And thank you guys again for 100 followers!!

[tainted-liquor]

𓇼𓈒ㅤׂHow Curious... 𓆉 [4.11.23] - ft. Miles G. Morales 𓆡 genre: fluff, part 2 of Sea Grillz!

What a liar.

Two years ago, you met a human. A beautiful, beautiful human who promised that he would come back and visit you. You waited around the coral for months, breaching the surface of the freshwater haven every now and again to see if the familiar red metal cargo ship ever showed up again. You kept that piece of soft cotton fabric wrapped tightly around your gills in hopes that one day the boy would remember you and come back. What was his name again? Prowler?

You zoomed through the warm currents of the 'Big Lagoon', otherwise known as the Caribbean Sea by the surface dwellers in search of some new findings at the bottom of the ocean. Your tail eagerly jerked through the waves, propelling you forward with the force of a bullet train as you scanned the ocean floor for any new finds. You had somewhat of a collection; a brass hand mirror, several giant beady 'pearls' of some sort, silky gloves, and a plethora of coins from all ages and times. It was dark, barely visible as your eyes struggled to pick out every minor detail due to the lack of sunlight. But truth be told, you only had one thing in mind as you glided through the pure water.

You breached the surface, hair falling along your shoulders as your beautiful coral and shell necklace rested against your collarbone. You looked up at the warm skyline, losing yourself in the vibrant shades of orange, pink, and yellow that decorated the world and illuminated your skin. You raised a hand out of the warmth of the ocean, watching as your skin morphed from a pale blue to your natural melanated tone. Your jewelry consisted of pearls, small shells, your swamp blue scales that you lost along the way, and solid diamonds that shimmered on the horizon. It was perfect; no humans to disturb the mesmerizing crash of the waves or the blue tint of the water.

You felt for your cold neck, grazing your soft fingertips over the ripped piece of cotton wrapped around your neck. A sense of melancholy suddenly filled your mind, missing the man that appeared before you and swept you off your fins. You looked around the bare ocean, whispering a silent prayer to whatever may be listening. Oshun? Ikatere? Whoever ears it fell upon, you'd hope they'd hear you.

"Please come back tomorrow..."

You bowed your head before darting back under the deep blue, blazing through the current with no other goal than to get home safely. It was hard to describe this feeling of grief. Maybe it was the promise he muttered that remained broken, or maybe it was his sense of style with those iron-clad claws and shiny teeth. He hadn't left your mind since he sailed away, but you sure left his. You cozied up next to the soft pink anemone, allowing its tentacles to flick and wave at your nose.

The ocean surface went from gentle pinks obscured by ripples of water to pitch black. The inky sky glowed with speckles of stars as you laid back on your lively 'pillow', gently running your fingers through the rough nylon of the rope attached to your waist. You thought to yourself for a moment, dancing over the buttery kapa fabric that covered your chest. It was just like every other night, staring at the water's edge while you attempted to lull yourself to sleep. But there was a sudden urge for you to get up and swim out far east.

You gasped, hopping up at the speed of light, tail twitching with an unfamiliar sensation. Your iridescent scales glimmered under the moon...something was nagging you to swim east. So what did you do? Swam as far right as you could.

"Tú en mi cama..." Miles muttered, deep purple Prowler mask glimmering in the moonlight as music flooded his brain. He knew he was stupid for sailing out in the middle of the sea for no reason, but he had to see that pretty little mermaid again. The one with the big beady eyes and the baby-soft skin, yeah. That one. It had been two years since he last saw that face, and you've been burned into his brain ever since. So now here he was, out in the middle of the sea as his new watch spewed out coordinates for him to follow.

Still in that same red cargo ship he stole two years prior, he sped out into the uncharted waters in pursuit of the woman with the blue skin. and the perfect scales. It was a dark and eery atmosphere as he voyaged forward. The ghostly hue of the moonlight led him forward, serving as his candle in the abyss. The ocean shimmered, each wave highlighted by the fluorescent white as Miles put the engine in reverse and allowed the boat to bob above the water.

He stepped away from the helm of the ship, his heavy-duty boots making a loud thudding sound against the deck as he swung both legs against the railing. He hummed along to the reggaeton music that was blasting through his headphones and took another glance over the sea line. His twin braids swayed gently with the low whistling of the wind, as the cold air kissed every inch of Miles' exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Everything seemed to follow a pattern; the waves would flow and crash against the ship, and the wind would puppeteer his braids. Until there was a familiar deviation in the water.

You darted forward, ducking and weaving between corral, debris, and anything that stood in your way as judgment guided you forward. You passed by the little crabs and gave a couple pats to some adorable Mahi-Mahi before you saw it; the strange shadow you were met with long ago. Your eyes widened with hope and adoration, making no effort to conceal your presence as you breached the surface. "Hey!" You shouted upon seeing the familiar purple glow from some sort of mask. The small white eyes widened, glitching from their regular slits to tiny hearts as you swam closer towards the ship.

"Oh, shit-...Chiquita! ¿Cómo has estado? I missed you!" He shouted, lowering down some sort of boat attached to some ropes that he gestured for you to climb into. You held on to the edge of the smaller wooden boat, lifting yourself up with all your strength as you plopped down onto the rickety oak. He hoisted you up, using all his strength to pull you up on the deck with him. The floor of the ship was freezing cold, floorboards creaking under the added body weight as you flopped on the ground. You lifted yourself up on the palms of your hands, coming face-to-face with the strange 'prowler' once again.

"Where have you been! I've been waiting for you for...for...forever! You said you'd be back!" You shouted, wasting no time as your sopping hands grazed over his exposed arms. His skin was cold to the touch and littered with goosebumps as you attempted to take off his mask, earning a low chuckle from the boy in front of you. He grabbed your wrist, gently moving your hands away from his face as he went to speak. "How often do you think I can boat out to the middle of the ocean? Hmm?" He asked, his tone laced with gentle sarcasm and slight heartbreak. He really did want to come back sooner, but time has never been a friend of Miles.

"I see you found more jewelry," he commented, gently taking your glimmering hand in his as he examined the diamonds, aquamarine, gold, and blue calcite that decorated your knuckles. You were worth millions...fins or no fins, you had a killer jewel collection that could fund an entire generation's college ride. Miles sat on the floor so he could be at eye level with you, pulling you in his lap as he collapsed his retractable mask. "I got jewels too," he mumbled, before opening his mouth just enough for you to see the shimmery glint of...teeth jewelery?

Your eyes widened, pupils dilating as you leaned forward to get a good look at his mouth. His sharp canines were covered by a silver outline, while his bottom teeth were lined with what looked like pure diamonds as you ran your fingertips against the smooth metal. "This is...wow," you sighed, admiring the sparkling gems as Miles smirked at your reaction. "This is called a grill," He muttered, closing his jaws before you made an attempt to put your head in his mouth. You nodded, still processing his flashy sense of style as he scanned over your ethereal garments and figure.

"So what y'all be doin' down there? What's it like on the ocean floor?" Miles asked, gently kissing the thenar of your palm as your hand came to caress his face. You thought for a minute, letting the cold wind blow against your frostbit skin. "It's dark...I mean, I have angler fish! But other than the dark, it's very cozy," You shrugged, hands dancing across his black cotton turtle neck. "It's got a lot of cool things, and a lot of coins. Definitely a lot of coins..." You chuckled, feeling the soaked fabric trickle water down the nape of your neck.

"Damn...New York is never dark," Miles laughed. His laugh was cold and hollow, but oddly comforting as he fixed your makeshift 'waist beads' made out of a piece of rope. He took your face in his cold, and rough hands as he admired your perfection. He'd never seen such a pretty girl in his life, and she was miles away out at sea. Your button nose perfectly complimented your full, two-toned lips. Whoever invented that fuckass 'Phi' system was wrong, YOU were the most beautiful girl in the world; with your glimmering scales, flashy gems, and gorgeous eyes.

He wanted to take you back with him and keep you all to himself, so the greed of the world could never reach out and take from you like they took from him. But deep down he knew there wasn't a place for you in his world. He placed a cold, comforting kiss on your collarbone as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "C'mon, tell me about what you did while I was gone," Miles chuckled, hoisting you up as he waltzed toward the helm of the ship. He wanted his conscience to narrate his thoughts in your voice, that thick islander accent and velvety tone talking to him about his own moves.

You talked his ear off for hours, sitting pretty on his lap while he learned all about Aycayia culture, what you eat in a day, and how prevalent 'rare' gems are in the deep blue sea. He didn't care that he was soaked from head to toe, or that he was losing feeling in his legs the longer you stayed on his lap. He just wanted to hold you for a little bit longer as you mindlessly fiddled with his silver chain. His hands gently caressed your hair before reaching into his back pocket to pull out a small pinkish purple metal 'watch'. "I gotta go, I'm so sorry..." he muttered, attaching it to your wrist as the futuristic bracelet emitted a soft glow.

Your head cocked to the side, trying to make sense of the strange device. "This will show me your coordinates. Don't lose it. I'm gonna bring you with me one day, I promise," He mumbled, holding you as close as possible. The wind sang a song of melancholy, the ocean coming to a still as you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. You wanted him to stay, to tell you more stories of his life as 'The Prowler'. You hated the idea of not seeing him for another two years, tears pricking at your waterline as you smushed your cheek against his.

"I really...really love you. Please don't take too long...?" You whispered, the top half of your body hanging off the rim of the ship.

"...I love you too."

@ashsostrange @chessbox @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @milesnanana77 @niaurluv @sp1derw1re @ban-al3x  @we-loveebony @kae2kaee @dxrlingcc @al3xwqz @l0starl

[saintunhinged]

Poly valentine's day with asra and julian headcanons please and thank you if not you can skip

not yet proofread [ originally intended to be published 2/14/2022. ]

..

the morning starts with you preparing a hearty breakfast, one you woke up early enough to start making

knowing julian and his inconsistent sleep schedule, you aren’t willing to risk him waking up before you

asra on the other hand was easy to predict

if the shop was closed for the day, he’d never miss the chance to sleep in

so it surprises you when you hear shuffling and muffled talking in the next room

“stop making so much noise!” “I wouldn’t have to if yo— wait, no stop!” a loud crash follows quickly after

“Julian, Asra?” you yell out while you continue setting up a fruit platter

silence.

“Everything is fine!”

“Would you cut that out—” suddenly, julian is shoved out of the room by a pair of hands that can only belong to asra

when he sees you, his whole demeanor changes and he puts a smile on his face

“Oh, hello dear!”

your eyebrows raise in suspicion. “What are you two doing?”

he avoids your question with another question

one in which you barely have time to answer before he’s rushing out the main door

when you shout to ask asra where julian went, he sticks his head the curtain concealing the room “He’s getting something, he’ll be back soon.”

then he’s gone again. “It smells great out there by the way!”

you grin to yourself

when you’re finished making plates, you add hearts made of whipped cream on top of julian and asra’s stack of pancakes

julian has returned by this time with a basket in hand as he rushes past you and into the room with asra

you check your pockets to make sure their gifts are there

balancing one plate on your arm and the other two in your hands, you’re soon following behind him

As you enter the room, you’re met with the soft glow of red and orange flames from numerous candles scattered around. Purple hearts hover gently in the air, casting a magical shimmer. Despite the bright morning sun outside, the bedroom maintains a cozy, intimate ambiance, shielded from the light by the draped curtains.

You carefully balance two plates: one with golden pancakes and fresh fruit, the other with an assortment of pastries. You’ve tucked a small gift for each of your lovers into your pockets, eager to share them.

Asra turns around from where he’s arranging pillows and throws on the large bed. “Did you get it?” He asks Julian, in which he replies with his famous sly smile.

“Well, did you ever doubt me?”

Silence. Asra spares him from the truth and goes back to what he previously had occupied himself with. Of course he doubted him.

It’s easy to know your presence went unnoticed at first, they both turn to look at you upon hearing your voice. “So, this is what you two were up to.”

Julian clears his throat, “Funny seeing you here.” He exclaims, as crimson coats his cheeks.

Asra turned his head, his expressions shifting from surprise to warmth. “We were just putting the finishing touches on your gift.” He gave a mischievous smile, his fluffy hair falling just above his eye. “And you caught us right in the act.

Julian adjusts a candle here and there, ensuring the flames are just right. His eyes, reflecting the warm light, are full of excitement. Asra, now seated cross-legged on the bed, is lost in the gentle levitation of a glowing purple heart, his fingers brushing its edges.

“Good morning,” Julian says, looking up with a mischievous grin. “I hope breakfast is as delightful as the setting we’ve created.”

You set the plates down on the table next to the bed, smiling at the effort they’ve put into transforming the room. “It looks amazing. Thank you both.”

Asra glances up from his spot, his colored eyes soft and affectionate. “We wanted today to be special. And it certainly feels magical now.”

With a playful twinkle in his eye, Julian steps closer. “I know you’ve got some surprises for us. How about we exchange gifts before breakfast?”

You nod and reach into your pocket, pulling out a small, elegantly wrapped box. “This one is for you, Asra,” you say, handing it to him.

Asra’s face lights up as he unwraps the gift to reveal a delicate charm bracelet of a serpent. “It’s beautiful,” he says, his voice warm with appreciation. “Thank you. I’ve been thinking about how to keep our moments close to my heart.”

Julian, eager for his turn, takes out a small velvet pouch from his pocket and hands it to you. “And this is for you,” he says, a bit nervous but excited.

You open the pouch to find a dainty necklace with a heart-shaped locket. Your fingers tremble slightly as you take it out. “Julian, it’s wonderful. Thank you.”

Julian’s smile widens with relief and happiness. “I’m glad you like it. I thought it would be a nice way to keep our love close.”

Asra reaches into his own pocket and retrieves a small but beautifully illustrated book. “For you,” he says, handing it over. “It’s a collection of stories and poems. I thought it would be perfect for when you need a bit of magic in your life.”

You accept the book with a heartfelt smile. “This is incredible, Asra. I can’t wait to read it.”

Julian, watching the exchange, moves to reveal his own gift. He presents a set of detailed, hand-drawn maps. “And these,” he says, “are for our future adventures. Places we’ve talked about visiting together.”

You’re touched by their thoughtfulness, your eyes misting slightly. “These are perfect. I’m so lucky to have both of you.”

Asra and Julian exchange looks of shared happiness as you all sit down to enjoy the breakfast you prepared. The room, filled with warmth, laughter, and the scent of pancakes, becomes a haven of love and celebration. The gifts, the setting, and the moments create a morning you’ll cherish forever.

[puzzledcretin]

Mystic Mojo

(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @eyesoftheholder)

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Prompt: (Post ROTMNT movie) An exploration into Mikey’s mystic powers and the possibilities that come with it. Word Count: 2,376

Read On AO3

The sun was still high up in the sky, though it was angled toward the west. In an hour or two, it would be beyond the horizon and out of reach. For now, the golden glow cascaded among the blades of grass. 

It was warm here. Wherever here was. 

Among the tall blades of grass, some just as tall as the young turtle as he sat amongst them, were flowers. Sprinkled in clusters, wild flowers blotted the green all around him. An array of reds that faded into purples that faded into blues. Spread out as far as the eye could see. The flowers stood out, ranging from the smallest buds to the largest petals. None of them seemed to be particularly the same species, all unique, all different. 

Fox tail ferns disrupted the usual monotony around him, along with bushes and clusters of wheat. 

Despite the warmth radiating down on him, it smelled like rain. It smelled fresh, like life itself was bursting forth from the buried roots of the Earth. It flourished through the plants, dancing around in the wind. The wind itself sang a song, calling out to everything that was graced with its presence. Brushing against every surface as a reminder of  “I am here, I am here,”

So was he, wasn’t he? Here in this field. Away from everything that ever bothered him. 

He sucked a deep breath in, taking the wind into his heart. Nothing more than a brief detour, bringing life in just to breathe out a part of himself. It joins the wind, flying away into the sky and melding with the dust and leaves that tumbled along the breeze.

His gaze turns downwards, away from the unyielding rays of the sun. 

Stones and pebbles, clusters of dirt, maybe some bugs that were on their way home from a long day of.. Being bugs. But instead of your usual ground activity, there were glowing orange cracks in the Earth. They shined, almost as bright as the sun itself. And it wasn’t stagnant. It shimmered, it shifted. Much like the wind, it danced along to its own song.

His hands came down to touch it, but as he did, those glowing orange cracks suddenly burst up along his arms. They flared, angry and dangerous. The deep lines buried themselves deep into his flesh. Pain followed, sharp pains as his skin was ripped apart before his very eyes. Flakes broke off from the edges, burning up into ashes as they rose up into the air around him. 

The particles floated around him, they almost looked beautiful. Like thousands of fireflies, they circled his head. His eyes widened. With some effort, the turtle tried to pull his arms away from the ground. The urge to touch these small particles- pieces of himself- was just too much to ignore. But, his hands were gone. Merged into the same energy that burned the ground. 

The embers around him grew brighter and brighter, heat searing his skin. Then, before he could gather his bearings and figure out what was happening, the embers shot out in every direction. Their range was impressive, falling down into the blades of grass to hide from view.

Like sparks among dry brush, there was no way to stop the eruption of flames that occurred in that beautiful field. And the flames weren’t small, they towered up amongst the grass. It tore apart every blade, every petal, every leaf and threw them all up into the air to mix their ashes with the cascade of debris. Thick, dark gray clouds covered the sky. The warmth of the sun was blocked out, replacing everything with the cruel heat of the flames. Smoke filled his lungs in an instant, suffocated him with unrelenting plumes as the flames consumed the wildlife around him. 

“Wait- Wait, stop! Stop it!” 

His words echoed back to him, bouncing around his fiery chamber. They loomed over him, repeating over and over.

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

The cracks along his arms crawled higher and higher. He looked down, watching the trenches engulf more and more of his skin. It ate him, throwing up embers. The embers flew through the flames. He didn’t know where they were going. But beyond these walls, he wondered how much of the field survived. 

Tears streamed down his cheeks. Trails tracked along his face, innocent expressions of fear and remorse that stood contrast to the world around him. He choked on the smoke, his body bending forward as the golden glow attacked his shoulders. He coughed, trying to force it back out. 

Slowly, heat built up in his throat. A wretched burn worked its way up to his mouth, it settled on his tongue and ate away at the saliva that accumulated there. 

His lip trembled, the last barrier between him and whatever lies beneath. 

For the first time since he entered this hell, he wished he could go home. He craved the soft, pillowy feeling of being surrounded by his family. Lines ran deep into his body, searing him from the inside out. But he grit his teeth, clamps down.

Silently, he begged for forgiveness. 

The world wouldn’t know, and he believes they would never know, that this was his fault. He was going to burn up and disappear, destroying everything in his wake. 

And yet, and yet. All he could imagine was his brothers. His sister. His fathers. He hoped they were safe, far away from all of this. He could imagine them now, laughing in the lair. They were oblivious, they were having fun. He could imagine what they’d say. 

“I wonder where he is.”

“I wonder if he’s coming home soon.”“I wonder if he’ll bring home pizza.”

A grin cracked at his lips. The stretch of his lips split the flesh. Beneath it, the same orange glow that corrupted the rest of his body. He clamped down with his jaw, breathing through his nose as the cracks started to spread across his face. 

He couldn’t hold on, he wasn’t strong enough.

“I’m sorry..”

The cracks exploded across his body as he finally let go. Flames rushed along the dry grass in order to join their origin once again. He screamed as he gave in, his body pulling apart at the seams. 

Mikey woke up with a choked gasp. He coughed, rolling onto his side in his hammock in an attempt to clear his throat from the spit that attacked him. 

He pushed himself up. Trembles raked through his body, the aftershocks of the earthquake that rocked his very core. His hand moved up to lay against his plastron. With the hard plate between him and his heart, he couldn’t feel his heart racing with his hand. But he could hear the pounding in his ears. 

That dream felt too realistic, phantoms of all the burns prickled around his body. His eyes flickered down to his hands, expecting to see the eerie orange glow. But all he saw were the light colored scars that still haunted him. But that was it, he was safe. 

Mikey fell back into his hammock, looking up at the ceiling of his room. He tracked the bright colors that formed circles and spirals. He let out a slow breath, his lungs deflating in his body. 

He laid there for an hour. His mind was slowly reeling with the memories of a dream that were burned in. Usually, dreams would fade away. No shackles to hold you in a single place, no trap to keep you stuck in bed. But this was fresh and powerful. 

Eventually, Mikey pulled himself up to his feet. 

The young turtle had a lot he wanted to get done today, especially after Leo came back with some new canvases. They were unused, but not completely clean. Spatters and stains along the bright white fabric. It was imperfect, but Mikey could see the inspiration.

So, the teen was set about getting all his other tasks done. He buried himself in what he had to do. He had originally planned on making something small like cereal for breakfast, but it felt too fast. A full meal was in order then, pancakes and bacon and juice and toast and scrambled eggs. 

Then, he took his focus onto the dishes. Donnie had built a dishwasher, he could be using it, but instead he took to hand washing them. And well, it would be rude to just leave them drying on the counter, so he dried them too. Then, since the job was already two thirds of the way done, he put the dishes away too. 

Mikey was on his way back to his room when Raph pulled him aside and asked if he were interested in sparring at all. How could he say no to that? Clearly, he couldn’t. He focused on the fight intently, filling his head on which strike or duck he was going to do next. It was almost a blur, what happened. 

In fact, a lot of it was a blur. 

Yes, Mikey knew he did things. He knew he made breakfast, he knew he had washed and put away all the dishes, he knew he had sparred with Raph. 

And yet, if you had asked him any specifics, he would draw blanks. His mind was busy. 

So, despite his brother's calls to join him in the living room to play games, Mikey found himself walking to the small corridor where he kept most of his art supplies. It used to all be in his room, but when they were cleaning up the lair after the Kraang’s failed invasion, Mikey had moved a lot of it to what he called his studio. 

He had outgrown the space, he had claimed. He was a blossoming artist who needed to spread his wings. 

As he walked into his space, the familiar scent of disinfectant and paint filled his nostrils. The walls had been cleaned recently and his paints were all scattered about. His acrylics, his pastels, and his oils. Mikey moved to sit in the center of the room. He gathered up some nearby supplies and stared down at his blank canvas. 

With a deep breath, he got to work. Recently, he has been working with a lot of abstract concepts. Colors in broad strokes across a canvas, pushing expression into nothing and everything all at the same time. One of his last paintings was a real whirlwind of color. He chose greens, blues, reds, purples, and oranges. All sharp lines, all bouncing along the surface, but aimed down towards the cluster of pink and gray at the bottom. 

Mikey proudly hung that one up on the wall, he had named it To Rise Above. 

This painting, however, was proving to be rather difficult. Mikey let his heart guide his hands, reds and oranges and yellows force themselves onto the page. Sharp angles that erupt from soft curves, contradictions in forms. There was chaos erupting on this canvas, all surrounding a little black blob in the middle with two glowing orange eyes. 

Mikey paused as he took a step back to process what he saw. 

Just like his dream, he was surrounded by fire. 

His hearing tunneled, his eyes unfocused. He dropped his brush to the floor, the orange paint splattered lazily against the concrete. 

“I see,”

Mikey jerked himself back to reality, turning his gaze up behind him to catch Draxum standing behind him. The goat man had his hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe, eyebrows drawn tight together but his focus was on the canvas. 

“Tell me, Michelangelo, what does this depict.” Draxum asked, using his foot to lightly push Mikey’s paint palette out of the way before slowly sinking to sit criss cross beside him. 

“It..” Mikey’s expression tightened for a moment. His dream  had been a vision of terror, it felt too real to be just a dream. It almost felt like a calling, a promise of what was in store for him. 

A purple clawed hand came to rest on his shoulder, his thumb brushing against the tension that laid beneath the surface. 

“I had a dream last night.. That I did this..” Mikey spoke softly, letting the canvas drop to the ground. His head fell into his hands, smearing colors against his face. “I guess it’s just sticking with me… I remember how it felt and it.. That energy felt a lot like when I used my mystic mojo to open up that portal,”

He shook his head, laughing softly, “But that’s stupid, why would I feel like that? I can make portals, portals shouldn’t make fires like that,”

Draxum hummed in response, “No, they shouldn’t,” He responded, pulling his hands into his lap, “Meditate with me, Michelangelo,”

Mikey looked up at Draxum for a moment, watched as the elder closed his eyes and straightened his posture. The young turtle followed suit, folding his hands over his lap as he felt his eyes close. 

“You have very powerful abilities, Michelangelo. Very unpredictable abilities. I’m sure they scare you, do they not?” Draxum questioned. 

Mikey stayed silent for a long moment, before nodding stiffly, “It hurt.. A lot. Making that portal.” Mikey’s fingers brushed against one of the old scars, “I don’t want to hurt anyone else, not like that. But I don’t know how..” 

Silence grows between them. Mikey wonders if he’s said something wrong. Is there a chance he said something wrong? Surely so. He was a monster for even considering that he would have the ability to hurt someone. He was going to destroy the world-

“I know. Strong abilities are a blessing, but they can only become that with extensive training. With exercises that hone your energy into something productive, not destructive. You have nothing to fear, Michelangelo. You just need a helping hand.” Draxum responded, “I know, I had fears of my own once.”

Draxum’s hand fell back onto Mikey’s shoulder, lightly tugging the turtle to face him. Mikey opened his eyes to find his more recent father figure offering a reassuring smile that looked just.. So out of place. Mikey managed a smile of his own in response.

“You’re going to be extraordinary, Michelangelo. Just have confidence,”

[jacketkiszka]

The Masque

Sam Kiszka x F!Reader

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content 18+ Alcohol consumption, oral f!receiving, unprotected sex, hooking up with a stranger, borderline public sex, masked sam 😈

Very excited to be featured in this year’s Gretaween collection by my dear friend.

This story is inspired by the short story The Masque of the Red Death by Edgar Allen Poe. I hope you all like it! Happy spooky season ~ 🎃

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩

10:33 PM

With a creak and groan, the ancient wooden doors of the abbey slowly part before you, revealing a luminous scene that takes you by surprise. The room beyond is bathed in an otherworldly blue glow, shimmering with the eerie splendor of two enormous stained glass windows. The blue light spills across the space, pooling like liquid at your feet. You step through the threshold, your heels echoing against the stone floor, and immediately the air is filled with the hum of conversation and laughter, the cheerful din of partygoers. Somewhere, distant yet resonant, the haunting notes of an organ drift from another room.

You pause for a moment, letting your gaze travel over the room. Two grand firelit lamps stand sentinel on either side, their flames seemingly casting not orange, but blue-tinged shadows. The paintings on the walls, the velvet-upholstered chairs, the intricately woven rug beneath your feet—every last detail shimmers in rich, captivating blue.

But there's no time to linger. You catch your breath and continue forward, making your way down a long hallway towards the growing sounds of the partygoers.

The corridor twists, and with a sharp left turn, you find yourself in yet another grand room, though this one is bathed in the deep, sultry warmth of magenta. The walls radiate the pinkish color, and it paints the faces of the few guests scattered about in soft, rose-tinted shadows. You don’t recognize anyone here—and that doesn’t surprise you. You hadn’t expected to know many people at this event; after all, you had been invited by your long-time friend, Mira, who never missed an opportunity to thrust herself, and by extension you, into the center of extravagant events. Parties like this were her playground, where the eccentric and the elegant intermingled seamlessly.

You didn’t mind following along, though. Truth be told, you enjoyed the excuse to dress up, to wear something that made you feel like someone else, if only for a night. Your dark purple gown flows as you walk, the soft fabric brushing against the floor, and the lacy black masquerade mask you wear lends you an air of mystery. You glide through the magenta room without pause, the conversation barely registering as you pursue the growing noise of the crowd ahead.

Another turn, another left, and now you enter the green room.

It is smaller, but far more crowded, a buzz of lively chatter filling the space. The green hue saturates everything, casting the scene in an ethereal, almost dreamlike light. You scan the crowd, eyes darting from one masked face to another, searching for Mira. No sign of her yet. But before you can make another move, you notice something strange—someone standing at the edge of the room, a man in a crimson suit.

He's not mingling, not engaging in the festivities like everyone else. Instead, he leans casually against the emerald wall, his piercing gaze fixed on you. His outfit is striking—an almost unnaturally bright red suit and matching mask, and his black hair slicked back away from his face. The pit of your stomach tightens with unease. There’s something unsettling about the way he watches you, as though he's been expecting you all along.

You look away, pretending to be preoccupied with the crowd, but as you move through the room, you can’t shake the feeling that those eyes are following your every step. No matter where you turn, you can sense his gaze lingering, unrelenting.

Suddenly, a deep, resonant sound reverberates through the walls—the unmistakable chime of a clock from somewhere deep within the abbey. A bell tolls, loud and clear, its echo rippling through the air. Everything comes to a sudden halt. The laughter dies, conversations cease, and the organ music stops in mid-note. You freeze, heart pounding, as the room falls into an eerie, unnatural silence. Every face you can see looks grim, as though anticipating something awful.

After a few minutes, although it feels like an eternity, the clock’s final chime fades into nothingness, and the crowd resumes its former liveliness as if nothing unusual had happened. Conversations reignite, laughter resumes, and the organ music swells once more, yet the strange heaviness in the air remains.

11:00 PM

You find yourself stepping into yet another room, this one taking your breath away. It's larger than the others by far, with towering ceilings that seem to stretch into the heavens, and at the center of the back wall stands a grand pipe organ—magnificent in its scale and design. Its gleaming pipes rise like spires, glinting in the dim light.

As you take in the sight, the soft sound of footsteps catches your attention, followed by a voice, smooth as silk, from behind you.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

You turn slowly, and your eyes meet those of a man dressed in all black. He’s tall, with an air of quiet elegance, a single orange—or perhaps white—flower pinned to his lapel. His face is obscured by a simple black mask, but his eyes, dark and enigmatic, capture your attention and hold it. There’s something magnetic about him, something familiar yet unknown.

“It’s incredible,” you reply, turning to look at the organ again. “I’ve never seen one in person before. It sounded beautiful earlier.”

“Thank you,” he says, a note of amusement in his voice.

You blink, turning back to him in surprise.

He was the organ player. Of course he was.

Before you can respond, he steps closer.

“I’m glad you enjoyed the music,” he says, his voice smooth, rich. “But I suspect you didn’t come here for a performance…”

A playful smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, and you feel a warmth rise in your cheeks beneath the mask.

“I suppose not,” you reply, trying to sound composed. “Though I can’t say I’m entirely sure why I am here.”

Obviously you had come because Mira invited you, but something about the abbey seems to be pulling you in as if you were brought here for a reason.

His smile broadens, just enough to suggest he knows more than he’s letting on. “Perhaps that’s part of the fun. This place tends to attract the curious… and those searching for something they can’t quite name.”

You tilt your head slightly, feeling a strange pull to his words. “And what about you?” you ask, shifting the conversation back to him. “Are you here searching for something too?”

For a brief moment, his dark eyes flicker with something unreadable, like a shadow passing over them. He pauses before responding, as if contemplating the answer. “Perhaps,” he says finally, his tone quieter, more serious. “Or maybe I’ve already found it, and I’m just here to see if it will stay.”

His reply sends a shiver down your spine. Before you can ask him to elaborate, a burst of laughter erupts from the adjoining room, pulling your attention away. The party seems to have returned to full swing, the hum of voices and clinking of glasses growing louder. But here, in the bright orange light, it feels like a separate world entirely, one where time moves differently.

He follows your gaze towards the other guests, his expression unreadable once more. “These gatherings,” he muses, almost to himself, “they bring together all kinds. Some come for the spectacle, the excitement of an elegant party... Others come for the anonymity, like they just want a place where they don’t have to be themselves.”

The last words hang heavy in the air.

“I’m not sure which one I am,” you admit.

He chuckles softly. “You’ll figure it out. Though I’d wager you’re not just here for the party.”

Before you can respond, a flash of movement catches your eye—a familiar figure entering the room. It’s Mira, dressed in her usual flamboyance, a gown of shimmering fabric that almost rivals the abbey’s decor in brilliance. She’s laughing, arm in arm with another guest, her head thrown back in her typical carefree manner.

“There you are!” Mira calls out when she spots you, her voice bright and full of life. She sways toward you, pulling you into a quick embrace before her gaze flicks over to the man standing beside you. “Oh, I see you’ve met already,” she says with a sly grin, as if she knows something you don’t.

Your eyes dart between them, a question forming on your lips, but before you can ask, Mira leans in closer and whispers, “Watch yourself with this one. He’s a charmer.”

Mira pulls you aside and the masked man retreats into the crowd of people.

“Who was that?” You ask, hoping that Mira knew him as well as she let on.

“That’s Sam. He’s always throwing parties here, I think he just uses it as an excuse to show off his organ skills for pretty girls.” She laughs.

You laugh too, partially because it was funny and partially because his apparent plan had worked.

You and Mira chat for a few minutes before she is pulled away by someone else. Life of the party, as always. When the two of you part ways you find yourself retreating to the drink station.

You pour yourself a cup full of the punch they have laid out for guests. With the amber colored light beaming in from the stained glass windows, you couldn’t tell the color of the punch but you hoped it wasn’t flavored orange too.

You sip the undoubtedly orange flavored punch and go to turn around when you’re met with the dreaded man in the red mask standing right behind you. You jump, startled, and nearly spill your drink.

“Oh, I’m sorry-“ You say, trying to get out of his way of the drink table. He steps aside with you, maintaining the close proximity.

“Don’t be sorry. I’ve had my eye on you since you arrived.”

You force a smile, heart hammering as he inches closer, his intense gaze never wavering from yours. The air grows thick, and you can feel the unease radiating through every fiber of your being.

“Really?” you manage to say, attempting to mask the nervousness in your voice with a light tone. “Sorry, I’m just here with a friend.”

He tilts his head slightly, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Oh, but you don’t seem to be with anyone right now.”

You search for an answer, but the words seem to evaporate under the weight of his stare. His hand reaches out, fingers brushing your arm lightly, and a shiver runs through you, though not the pleasant kind. He leans in, his voice lowering as he murmurs, “Come chat with me. I don’t bite.”

Before you can step back, another voice cuts in, calm but firm. “Everything alright here?”

You turn to see Sam standing next to you. There’s a subtle warning in his eyes, and you feel a surge of relief at his presence. Sam steps between you and the stranger, positioning himself protectively, and for the first time, you see the man in red falter, a flicker of irritation passing across his face.

“We were just talking,” the man in red says, a tight smile pulling at his lips.

Sam doesn’t flinch. “Good to hear. But I think she was just leaving,” he says, glancing at you with a look of reassurance.

You take the hint, nodding gratefully as you step back, moving closer to Sam. The man in red hesitates, his gaze shifting between the two of you before he finally nods, the charming facade falling away. He steps aside, vanishing into the crowd, his eyes lingering on you one last time before he disappears completely.

“Thank you,” you whisper, feeling your heartbeat begin to steady.

Sam offers you a small, reassuring smile. “No need to thank me. Just thought you looked like you could use a hand.” He pauses, then adds with a slight smirk, “Besides, Mira would probably kill me if I didn’t look out for you.”

You chuckle, the tension finally breaking, and feel a warmth settle in as you realize you’re not alone in this strange, eerie place.

As the unsettling presence of the man in red fades into the crowd, you feel Sam’s hand gently brush against your arm, guiding you toward a quieter corner of the room. The buzz of partygoers swirls around you. Sam’s eyes meet yours, his expression thoughtful as if he’s deciding how much to say.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, his voice low. “I know a place where we can actually hear ourselves think.”

You nod, the idea of escaping the crowded room with him unexpectedly enticing. Without another word, Sam gestures for you to follow, and you weave through the clusters of guests until you reach a doorway. He holds out his arm, gesturing for you to pass, and you slip through into a dimly lit hallway that stretches away from the party.

The silence here is a sharp contrast to the cacophony of the party, and you’re suddenly aware of the echo of your footsteps in the vast, empty space. Sam leads you down the corridor, turning left, then right, until you pass through a few other colored rooms, much like the others. An all white room, followed by a deep, rich purple. You reach the very end of the abbey. You walk into a room completely shrouded in black velvet furnishings, deep red windows bringing in a blood tinted light.

Sam stops near a velvet tufted bench beneath the large window, his gaze drifting over the room before turning back to you. For a moment, he seems almost shy, his confident demeanor softened. “I thought you might need a break,” he says quietly, looking at you with a gentleness that catches you off guard.

“Thank you. I did.” You take a seat on the bench, letting out a long breath. “This place is beautiful, but it’s… overwhelming.”

He nods, settling beside you. “That’s why I come out here sometimes. The party can feel like it’s pulling you in, swallowing you up.”

You glance at him, surprised. “And yet, you’re the one throwing it.”

A flicker of a smile crosses his face. “I guess even the host needs an escape every once in a while.” He pauses, then looks at you, his gaze earnest. “What about you? Something tells me you’re not much of one for this scene.

You feel a slight blush rise under his scrutiny, the truth not as straightforward as you’d like. “Yes and no,” you reply. “Mira loves these things, but… I think I came because I needed a night to just… let go. To feel like someone else, even if only for a little while.”

Sam nods, understanding glinting in his eyes. “Well, you certainly found the right place for that.” He tilts his head, studying you for a moment. “I’m glad you came, though. I didn’t expect to meet someone like you here.”

There’s something sincere in his tone that makes your heart flutter. His shoulder brushes against yours, a subtle connection that sends warmth spreading through you. For a few breaths, the world narrows to the two of you, the warm red light, and the distant sound of partygoers in the other rooms.

Sam turns slightly towards you, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "So… who might this new persona be that you've adopted tonight?" His eyes crinkle at the edges, amused, inviting.

”I guess you’ll have to find out,” you say, matter-of-factly.

“Do you think Mira is looking for you?” he says, seemingly starting to get nervous.

You smile and shake your head. “No, she’s probably going to be busy all night. This is how it always goes. Besides, I don’t care if she’s looking for me.”

He smiles back. The tension between you is thick. He leans in closer, putting a hand on your arm.

“Do you think- I mean, can I–“

Before he can get the sentence out, your lips are crashing softly into his like two magnets being pulled together against their will. His fingers squeeze your arm in surprise, but pull you closer to him at the same time. You pull away from his lips, and the grin on his face is one you hope to save in the depths of your mind for eternity.

In what can only be described as a sudden stroke of confidence, Sam pulls you in for another kiss. This time deeper, more passionate. The sounds of your breathing and hungry kisses mixed with the plastic edges of your masks clicking together creates a symphony of passion that fills the otherwise empty room.

His hands roam over your body, feeling the curves hidden beneath the silky material of your gown. A soft moan escapes your lips, muffled against his kisses.

You look towards the open doorway. None of the rooms in the abbey had doors except, of course, the bathrooms. Yet nobody had ventured all the way down the winding hallway to this room, and judging by the dust on the window ledges, you figure they hadn’t in a long time.

Sam pulls you closer to him, his hand finding its way to your thigh. You push your legs apart for him to grab hold of. His fingers gently dig into your thigh and he plants a soft kiss to your jawline, followed by your neck, and back up to your lips.

“What if someone comes in here?” you whisper, against his breath.

“They won’t.” He sinks to his knees, lifting the skirt of your dress up above your knees and running his fingers up your calves. “Do you trust me?” He kisses your thigh, his eyes never leaving yours.

You’re not sure if you do, but he looks so good like this that you’re not sure you care. Besides, if someone caught you it’s not like anyone here knew who you were besides your one friend.

You nod and he smirks up to you before planting more kisses along your thighs, gently sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin on the way up. His head disappears beneath the bulk of your gown and you feel his arms reach up and pull you to the edge of the bench. The hard plastic nosepiece of his mask grazes against your lace panties, sending your hips forward, looking for more contact.

“Easy, baby… what’s the rush?” He pushes his nose back against you, running it up towards the top of your panties.

His hot breath fans against your sensitive skin, making you tremble with anticipation. He reaches up and gently pulls your panties to the side, exposing your wetness.

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your center. You gasp, pushing your legs apart further, silently begging for him to keep going. He chuckles against you, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through your body. His tongue slowly slides out, parting and tasting you.

Sam's tongue begins to explore, circling your clit before flicking rapidly over the sensitive spot. His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he licks and sucks, alternating between broad strokes and targeted flicks.

You feel a knot churning in your stomach as your fingers dig into the velvet bench cushion next to you. You try to stifle your moans for fear of someone hearing, but he sucks your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around you in the most delicious way, causing a groan to ripple from your chest.

He pulls away, and you pout at the sudden loss of contact. He pulls his now desheveled head from under your dress and pushes the skirt up to your hips.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He whispers, looking you up and down.

“You haven’t even seen my face,” You chuckle. He bites his lip in response.

“I don’t have to,” His fingers trail up your thighs. “You sound beautiful, you taste beautiful. And this body…” He brings his fingers back down to your clit, drawing lazy circles against the black lace. “You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, I know it.”

The look in his eyes is honest, and the wet sheen on the edges of his mask reflecting the deep red light of the windows make it the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen.

Sam leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His fingers continue their maddeningly slow circles on your clit as he kisses you deeply, swallowing any sounds you might make. He breaks away after a long moment, both of you breathing heavily.

“Are you gonna fuck me, Sam?” You whisper, almost inaudible against his lips. His two fingers find their way into your panties and dip inside you, drawing a whine from your throat.

“Do you want me to fuck you? I thought you were afraid to get caught?” He teased, pumping his fingers in deeper, making your head spin. Your hips rolling against his hand, pushing him deeper.

“Please, Sam… I don’t care if we get caught.” He looks up at you with a grin that can only be described as mischievous. He curls his fingers inside you, hitting your sweet spot. Your head rolls back against the wall and your quiet gasps and sighs begin to grow into moans. His eyes watch the grandfather clock behind you and he starts to unbuckle his belt with his free hand, palming himself through his suit. His fingers work you until you’re practically heaving at his every command. His eyes flick back up towards the clock as he starts to pull himself free.

God, he’s gorgeous. You look down at the sight of him stroking himself, getting himself off while touching you. You’d never met a man that giving in bed, no less a stranger. He stands up and pulls you up with him, backing you against the wall. He presses his lips against yours, hiking your leg over his sturdy hips. Just as he pulls away you feel him rub against your entrance.

His eyes flick up to the wall again and, like clockwork, the clock strikes midnight. He grips your hips and pushes into you, filling you all the way to the hilt. A loud groan rips from your chest and his fingers dig into your thighs tighter, quickly picking up a steady pace. The sounds of the clock’s chimes fill the abbey. Your hand comes up to muffle the moans that fall from your lips but he takes your wrist and holds it tight against the wall.

“No one can hear you.” He bucks his hips into you sharply, and your eyes roll back into your head.

“Fuck, Sam…” You roll your hips against his cock, driving him deeper inside you. His grip on your hips never faltering, pulling you into him with all his strength. He drops your wrist and his free hand finds his way to your bodice, pulling it down to reveal your chest.

The clock continues to chime, filling the party with a deafening chime and masking the lewd sounds coming from the velvet room.

His fingers find their way back to your clit, swirling it in tight circles, looking for your end. The familiar knot forms again in your stomach, and you dig your fingers into his arm. He feels you tighten around him and groans loudly against your neck, seemingly coming to his end too.

“Come on, baby… we don’t have much time… give it to me,” he demands. His fingers work faster and the knot tightens more. Your vision turns colors and you squeeze him tight. His eyes flick up to the clock, knowing that it’s on its last big chime. With one deep flick of his hips he sends you over the edge, his hand clasping around your mouth to muffle you as the clock finishes its chime, and the partygoers resume their conversations in the other rooms.

His release comes shortly after yours, his hand still holding place over your mouth and his face buried in your neck, grunting quietly for only you to hear. His nails dig into your thigh as he spills into you, soft and hot and perfect. You wish he could hold you like this forever and never leave you empty again.

“Sam?” You whisper through heaving breaths.

He hums in response, nuzzling further into your neck.

“Maybe we should get out of here before someone sees us.”

He nods silently and pulls away from you. The loss of warmth leaving you wanting him close again already.

The two of you get yourselves put back together and as you begin to leave the room of black velvet, a hand stops you. Sam pulls you close for one last kiss before removing your black lace mask, revealing yourself to him for the first time.

He smiles and runs his thumb down your cheek.

“Just as I suspected,” he says, a smirk plastered across his face.

You give him a questioning look in response.

“Beautiful.”

[danika-redgrave124]

Umbra Witch Yuu Super Mirrors

Heartslabyul Super Mirror

Compact Design

The compact is designed to resemble an ornate heart-shaped locket, with intricate gold filigree and red enamel detailing. The front of the compact features a large, ruby-red heart shaped gem at its center, surrounded by smaller white pearls and golden rose motifs. The edges of the compact are adorned with tiny playing suit symbols (hearts, spades, diamonds and clubs) in gold.

The compact opens with a delicate golden clasp at the side. When opened, it reveals a mirrored interior, with the mirror itself framed by more golden filigree and tiny red and white roses.

Contains

Heartslabyul Dorm Uniform Couture Bullet

Queen of Hearts Ensemble Couture Bullet

Alice Ensemble Couture Bullet

Savanaclaw Super Mirror

Compact Design

The compact is designed to resemble an ancient, weathered lion's paw, with intricate cravings and details. The front of compact features a large, amber gemstone at its center, surrounded by smaller, earthy-tone gemstones and golden accents. The edges of the compact are adorned with claw-like designs and subtlebtribal patterns in dark brown and gold.

The compact opens with a hidden latch that resembles a lion's claw. When opened, it reveals a mirrored interior with the mirror framed by golden lion motifs and deep, rich colors reflecting the pride lands.

Contains

Savanaclaw Dorm Uniform Couture Bullet

Nala-Inspired Couture Bullet

Scar-Inspired Coutute Bullet

Octavinelle Super Mirror

Compact Design

The compact is designed to resemble a dark, magical shell. It has a deep, iridescent purple color with swirling black and silver accents. The front of the compact features a large, dark purple gemstone at its center, surrounded by smaller, shimmering blue and green stones that resemble bubbles. The edges of the compact are adorned with tentacle-like designs and intricate oceanic patterns in silver.

The compact opens with a hidden latch shaped like a small, silver trident. When opened, it reveals a mirrored interior with the mirror framed by golden seashells, giving it an enchanting, under-the-sea feel.

Contains

Octavinelle Dorm Uniform Couture Bullet

Ariel-Inspired Couture Bullet

Ursula Couture Bullet

Sacarbia

Compact Design

The compact is designed to resemble an ancient, mystical lamp. It has a golden, ornate exterior with intricate Arabic-inspired patterns and red enamel detailing. The front of the compact features a large, ruby gemstone at its center, surrounded by smaller emerald and sapphire stones. The edges of the compact are adorned with snake motifs and delicate gold filigree.

The compact opens with a hidden latch resembling a snake's head. When opened, it reveals a mirrored interior with the mirror framed by golden snake patterns and rich, luxurious colors.

Sacarbia Dorm Uniform Couture Bullet

Princess Jasmine Inspired Couture Bullet

Jafar Inspired Couture Bullet

Pomefiore Super Mirror

Compact Design

The compact is deisgned to resemble a mystical, ornate mirror. It has a silver frame with intricate gothic patterns and dark, Crimson accents. The front of the compact features a large, deep red gemstone at its center, surrounded by smaller black and white pearls. The edges of the compact are adorned intricate gold patterns.

The compact opens with a hidden latch that looks like a small, orange key. When opened, it reveals a mirrored interior with the mirror framed by intricate purple and red jewels.

Pomefiore Dorm Uniform Couture Bullet

Snow White Inspired Couture Bullet

Evil Queen Inspired Couture Bullet

Ignihyde Super Mirror

Compact Design

The compact is designed to resemble a dark firey urn. It has a deep charcoalgray exterior with glowing blue and red accents. The front of the compact features a large, blazing blue gemstone at its center, surrounded by intricate flame patterns and molten lava details. The edges of the compact are adorned with Silver and blue flame motifs.

The compact opens with a hidden latch shaped like the STYX logo. When opened, it reveals a mirrored interior with the mirror framed by swirling blue and red flame patterns and dark, smoky accents.

Ignihyde Dorm Uniform Couture Bullet

Megara-Inspired Couture Bullet

Hades Inspired Couture Bullet

Diasomnia Super Mirror

Compact Design

The compact is designed to resemble an elegant dark horned crown. It features a Glossy black exterior with intricate silver and deep green accents. The front of the compact showcases a large, cabochon-cut green gemstone at its center, surrounded by silver frame with thorny, twisted details. The edges of the compact are adorned with delicate silver filigree and small green gemstones.

The compact opens with a hidden latch shaped like a delicate black thorn. When opened, it reveals a mirrored interior framed by swirling, dark green and silver thirn patterns.

Diamonia Dorm Uniform Couture Bullet

Aurora Inspired Couture Bullet

Maleficent Inspired Couture Bullet

[intheghoulden]

i have writers block so here's my description of how the ghouls look in my head

(they look very different from most people's canon bc i really don't like taking inspo from their unmasked counterparts :])

Rain: dark wavy hair, brushing just against his shoulders. it's long enough to tie back, but there are a few pieces framing his face that are shorter. he has a few beauty marks (that mountain is obsessed with kissing) and wire frame glasses (that he makes mountain clean for him). his face is clean shaven and he has several ear piercings. his teeth are sharp like a sharks. his horns are uneven, the left one longer than his right. they're both a deep blue

Mountain: long straight brunet hair, messy and unkempt if someone doesn't do it for him. his face is permanently sunkissed from how much time he spends outside, and his face is covered in freckles. he's supposed to have glasses, but he hates wearing them. he's covered in bruises from running into things. his horns are remarkably similar to that of a deer, covered in velvet and shedding during the off season.

Dewdrop: short, curly ginger hair with black tips. his eyes are two different colours, one red and the other blue. he has a light spattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks that shimmer like embers when his emotions are high. he has a cleft lip, making his smile endearingly crooked. his horns are short spikes, white like ash.

Aether: slicked back silver hair, like the prequelle masks. he is fat and tall, towering over most of his peers. this is contrasted by his gentle and cheerful demeanor. his jaw is scruffy, several days overgrown but not quite a beard. his cheeks and forehead have several acne scars from his teenage years. he has many piercings on his face; eyebrow, septum, snake bites, tongue. his canines are long and sometimes peek from under his lip. his horns swoop backwards and are a crystal texture, purple in hue like amethyst.

Phantom: gangly, lanky weirdo. he has a tooth gap and the rest of his teeth are crooked, and it is so so adorable. his hair is short and fluffy, a dark purple with white speckles. he has white freckles across his face. he has a lot of piercings, some connected to each other with chains, others hanging. it looks like stars and constellations. his horns curved backward horizontally, becoming a sort of halo. they're white and pearlescent.

Swiss: his hair is uncontained and curly most of the time. its not quite coily, just loose enough to bounce if you pull it, but coily enough to be tied back in braids. his eyes are a bright, almost glowing, orange. he has eyebrow and nose piercings, all gold, and he has gauges. his horns are tall and long, sticking straight up from his forehead. they're red like hot iron.

Cirrus: tall and muscular with a firey personality to match. her hair is long and a dark grey, although its often tied up in a ponytail, revealing an undercut. her eyes are a stormy grey. she has some vitiligo, although it's only visible if she's been out in the sun for a while, the tanned skin revealing the lighter areas. her horns curve along the top of her head, smooth and glass like.

Cumulus: short curly hair to her shoulders, a blinding white. her eyes are red, almost violet, due to albinism. she short and fat, and she's so fucking hot for it. i can't put into words how beautiful she is, almost goddess like. all the other ghouls are crazy for her. her canines are a tad bit longer, she looks like a vampire. the only piercings she has is a tongue piercing and a belly button piercing. her horns curl around and under her ears, like a rams.

Aurora: instead of horns, she has gills like that of an axolotl. they're pink and they fluff up when she's excited. her hair is short, to her jaw, and wavy with two long chunks in the front going to her chest. it ombres from pink to violet to blue. she has slight wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, proof of her near constant laughing. her cheeks are always flushed making her seem like she's always blushing.

[aevumisles]

╰┈➤ AEVUM ISLES :: OCTOBER FESTIVAL ❂

With the autumn season comes change. All around the Isle, canopies begin to transform into canvases of brilliant reds, oranges, yellows, and purples. A cold breeze blows from the north, prompting the need for warm clothes and spiced drinks. The earth begins to grow quiet in light of the coming slumber, allowing the twin moons to shine throughout the longer nights.  But just because the world slows doesn’t mean that its residents do . . . Please refer to the ARCANUS ISLE COMPENDIUM for creature and plant references.

Overview.

During the peak of the autumn season comes a celebration of bountiful harvests and the memories of loved ones. The Yestereve Harvest occurs in October, featuring various fall activities with plenty of food and traditions that honor those who came before, and celebrate the blessings we have today. 

Spiced and sweet foods flood the streets during this season of giving thanks. This is particularly true as the Gladus Feast approaches. A three-day celebration across Aevum Isle, where families come together to enjoy bountiful harvests and tall tales of history. Many Aercon also enjoy the Spirits Jubilee, a celebration of ancestors and the legacies that have been brought into the present day. Every family celebrates a little differently, but there is plenty of fun to be had anywhere an Echo looks. 

Activities:

Spirits Jubilee

Spirits Jubilee is a two-week-long party ( from Oct. 2nd - 19th ) dedicated to honoring ancestors, legacies, and the magic that dwells in all denizens of Aevum. Participants are encouraged to share gifts of candy, celebrate with parties and events, and dedicate time to honor the lives of those who came before. Many families will build temporary memorial shrines filled with flowers, food, candles, and other decorations to remember their ancestors. Others will focus on the family members around in the present with parties and fun traditions. 

During this time, children of all ages dress up in costumes. These can all range from historical figures, jobs, legends, fictional characters, and more. Some of these costumes may also include Echoes who are of Ardent rank or higher! The kids will go from door to door, collecting sweets from those who are giving them out (any household that has lights on) after they say the phrase “ Spice and Sweets! ”. 

Echoes can expect little ones to make appearances at their doorsteps, though this activity is not just limited to the younger crowd. Adults and teens may participate, too. All across the city, people are hosting costume parties and competitions showing off people's creative talents. 

Some places may also offer the following kind of candy: 

Effect Candies: These treats may appear to be just the same as ordinary candies at first glance, but upon further inspection, these have a rainbow, shimmering glow about them. These candies are imbued with magical properties, bringing to life parts of your costume for as long as you eat them.  The originator of the candies is unknown, but it can be assumed it might have been a historical alchemist. Though their name has been lost to time, their legacy lives on with fervor! These treats are a community favorite during Yestereve Harvest, especially by those who seek the spice side of this activity.  EXAMPLE: - If you are dressed as a ghost, then eating the candy may allow you to phase through walls.  - If you are dressed as a pirate, you will find yourself gifted with a sword and stuck in talking in pirate speak. - If you are dressed as a dragon your wings will help you fly and you can breathe fire. Note: These candies can be received at any time and can be activated at any time during the duration of the festival. These candies do not transform the person into their costume, but rather create an extra effect to enhance the costume.  They will only work while the Echo is in a costume.  Candies may be saved after the event is complete, but they will lose their shine and magic and will taste bitter instead of sweet.

Downtown Arcanus.

The Fall Festival 

All throughout Downtown Arcanus, the streets come alive with the celebration of the autumn season. All of the shops and cafes sell all manner of autumn decor and fall-flavored favorites, following the shifting colors and cooling temperatures. Even the Archives get into the spirit by decorating the tables with pumpkin arrangements and harvest-themed displays.

Arcanus University is hosting a widespread Fall Festival, run by the student clubs with aid from the faculty. Each club has a different activity associated with it. The art club hosts face painting, the culinary program makes pumpkin pastries, the book club passes out fall books, the chess club has a giant chess board, etc. 

There are also plenty of carnival games to compete for prizes and a few small rides. There is a petting zoo hosted by the Whisperwind Hacienda for visitors to see. The Festival also has a section of booths dedicated to local artists selling home decor. There is plenty of fall fun to explore here as the university continues in full swing of its new semester.

Meanwhile, the Aurora Amphitheater will be hosting multiple locally directed and staffed performances. Everything from dance recitals to Shakespearean dramas, and even musical theater is welcome. Every day has a different show. 

The St. Azalea’s Foundation is also working in tandem with Fanalean farmers to host weekly food drives to provide warm meals and materials for those in need. During the Gladus Feast, they will be hosting a massive celebration buffet style for local Aercon and Echoes alike.

Rosewood District.

Twilight Screams

Several of the clubs within Rosewood have come together to host a special event called the Twilight Screams! The buildings have been decorated and refurbished into haunted houses for the season, filled with volunteers dressed up as monsters and ghouls meant to frighten visitors. Many of the costumes have been enhanced by effect candies, though the actors are not supposed to touch the visitors. That hasn’t stopped rumors from circulating that members of the Venom Rings have infiltrated the party intent on causing a bit of a ruckus. 

These “haunted houses” are hosted all throughout the month, and are typically busiest in the late evenings. Food and drinks are served outside the venues, usually trying to promote business to the bars, clubs, hotels, and other amenities of the Rosewood District. There are four main clubs that people can visit. Each has different themes to them. The following houses are listed in order of least scary to most scary.

After Tea Party - Decorated to mimic a high-end mansion, every ghost and ghoul is invited to the mansion for a high tea. Share in spooktacular blends and sweets that will be to die for! Or partake in a ballroom dance with music that will send shivers up your spine. These ghosts seem lost in their ways, spending eternity in a happy death. The halls seem never-ending, created by illusions of mirrors, fog, and projections that make it easy to get lost. 

Junkyard Jumpscare - The loudest and most eclectic of the houses. Actors pose as monsters and humans wearing thick layers of torn garments and junk armor, shouting about anarchy and rebellion and purging society of the status quo. They prefer to get into your face and utilize plenty of pyrotechnics and effects in order to make themselves known. Wars are always being fought. Will you pick a side? 

Raided Temple - An Egyptian-style tomb with many of a Pharaoh's treasures, creating a unique decor and plenty of puzzles for the visitors to solve. There’s a lot of story in this house, detailing the betrayal of the pharaoh by his best friend who stole his wife and kingdom and now his animated corpse seeks vengeance. The actors here wear long cloaks and dark masks to hide their faces, with trailing scarves behind them. Do not touch the treasure! Lest the curse of the pharaoh’s wrath fall upon you!

Nuclear Science Facility - After an accident with a nuclear reactor, this house’s whole facility has become engulfed in radiation, causing everything inside to become mutated. As visitors travel through the space, they may see some morally questionable experiments that occurred in the various rooms. Toxic goop and monsters can be found everywhere, making this house the hardest one to complete. 

Lunar Coast.

Memirror Fog 

While the cities and forests celebrate, the Lunar Coast finds itself growing dormant. Creatures retreat to warmer waters while fewer visitors make their way to the beaches. The Comet Promenade remains active (as the show must go on!), but something else stirs in the air. 

Across the Arcus Cove sets a permanent fog, visible regardless of the weather in the area. The Kruptos Lighthouse is always visible during this time along Quill Pillar Shores, caused by the imbalance of Aether at play. Sailors tell stories about the Memirror Fog. An autumn phenomenon that settles over the shores of Arcanus. After watching the seas for long enough, visions of the past begin to appear. For Echoes, this can mean they can see glimmers of people, objects, or even places that belong to their homeworld. Beckoning them out to sea to follow them.

Going out on a ship will eventually lead you to Arcus Cove, where the visions will persist. If an Echo is drawn even further in, they will find themselves among the ruins of the old Aether Temple on the coast. Here, Echoes may relive experiences from their past while under the fog's enchantment. The mists can only rely on the memories of the Echo and will replay as they were perceived at that moment. Even if the Echo behaves differently now than in their memory, it will continue onward, as if it is playing a recording. The memories are unable to be shared unless both Echos were present for the featured memory. However, anyone viewing from the outside may be able to break the enchantment.

In order to break out of a Memirror on one’s own, the entire memory must be played from start to end. Trying to break out before the memory has fully played out will result in the fog following the Echo as a shadow no matter where they go until the Echo finishes what it started.

Fanalea.

Gladus Feast

One of the most sacred and treasured celebrations of Fanalean locals is the Gladus Feast ( from Oct. 28th-30th ).  The Gladus Feast is a prime time for loved ones all around Arcanus to gather together and celebrate a plentiful harvest. Fanaleans go all out when it comes to the food of the feast. Most of which prominently feature local harvests such as:

Sapeng Cheeses, Mushroom Medleys, Whole Yaffle Hog Hams, Gourm Turkeys, Pecus Grain Breads, Perlbery Sauce, Star Fruit Pastries, Arcana Pumpkin Pies, and a variety of classic fall favorite veggies and dishes. Mulled wines and spiced drinks are also provided by the Honeyglow Meadery.

There is plenty more to do during the Gladus Feast than eat plenty of food. While farmers prepare the fields to rest for winter and finish up the harvests, they also utilize the space to host all sorts of fun activities. 

Pumpkin Patches - available for Echoes to purchase pumpkins. Carving stations are also available to create fun and unique designs into the pumpkin’s face. Each participant’s pumpkin will come with a complimentary candle.

Corn Mazes - mazes with varying levels of difficulty. Participants who get to the end of the maze will be given snacks of their choice!

Bulb Beetle Gazing - Join sightseers across the Fanalean Fields to watch the Bulb Beetles fly and sing their mating songs.

Hay Rides - pulled by falcaniform-drawn wagons, these hay rides travel all around Vesper Town Farmlands to marvel at the dall decor and wheat fields. 

S’more Making - Join the Fanaleans in Vesper Town Plaza as they share spooky stories and old legends around the central bonfire!  

Wreath Making - Echoes can make a beautiful fall-themed wreath with materials supplied by the locals including ribbons, wires, and other wreath accessories.

Candle Making - Echoes can make custom, wonderfully scented candles to give to their friends or keep to remind them of their loved ones.

Everyone is invited to participate, especially when it comes to cooking!

Aether Reserve.

Totem Poles 

“Find yourself through the eyes of another. “ the ancient texts say. 

Throughout Silverbrook Hollow, totems stand scattered across the forest, each bearing carvings of all manner of creature. The origins of the Totems are unknown to locals, and all denizens will claim that these totems have always been there, and certainly have heard warnings to not get too close. Particularly when their eyes mimic candlelight.

Exclusively during October, the totems’ Aether stir once more. Echoes who venture into Silverbrook will eventually note that the eyes of each animal seem to always be following them. This is true no matter where they walk. Should an Echo make eye contact within five feet of the pole, or should they touch the carvings, the Echo will find themselves face to face with their own personal Alter. Soon, they will become engulfed in the totem’s light. Above the canopy, a small orange-and-gold aurora borealis lights, filled with the silhouettes of animals and other creatures..

When the aurora diminishes, the Echo will find themselves transformed into their Alter. Without an Alter Totem, the transformation lasts for three days. After which, their normal form will be restored. 

Echoes with shapeshifting powers will also find themselves unable to restore themselves.) 

Echoes who are already anthropomorphic in nature (or otherwise animalistic) will find themselves with a humanoid form for the duration of the effect.

However, for Echoes who have an Alter Totem from the Tent of Wonders, they will be able to freely shift in and out of this form.

Merchant Town.

The Tent of Wonders

In the middle of the market a mysterious red tent, draped in ornate purple fabrics and lanterns, has appeared. This is run by Maxamillia La Mystica, an eccentric woman who speaks exclusively in rhymes. Upon entering the tent, hanging all along the walls are various wooden carvings of all kinds of creatures and beings. These are called Alter Totems and are made partially from Echo Wood. Curiously, she already has a totem just for you.

Alter Totems

A piece of wood with mysterious symbols carved into it. All echoes may be allowed to receive a totem with or without explicitly venturing into the tent in threads or drabbles, but they may only ever receive one. 

Upon contact, the wood will shift and morph into the likeness of the Echo’s Spirit Creature. Also known as an “Alter”. These can be real, or mythological creatures. Examples of mythological creatures can include dragons, mermaids, centaurs, gorgons, griffons, pegasi, unicorns, phoenixes, sphinxes, banshees, and more!

These may also be animals found in the Aevum Compendium (marked with a plant, fire, or star emoji) or common animals from the echos homeworld.

The Totem itself does not appear to do much in your hands, apart from you feeling yourself drawn to Silverbrook Hollow… 

What each totem manifests into is entirely up to mun discretion.

Each Echo can only have one Alter Totem at any given time.

If the choice of creature changes during the events of the Festival, the Totem will shift accordingly. 

If a mun changes their mind about their Muse’s Alter after the events of the Festival, the Totem may be changed once by visiting the Totem Poles in Silverbrooke. After that change, it cannot be changed again until the next Yestereve Harvest.

Alter Totems cannot be destroyed, traded between, or gifted to other Echoes. If a Totem happens to get lost, it will reappear on the bedside table of Echo’s house.

NOTE: While all Echoes will be given one for the duration of the event, if members wish to keep their muse’s totem beyond the event, they will need to submit a Totem Voucher to the Marketplace (with proof of participation in this festival). Upon voucher submission, the Alter Totem will come with five charges that, in-universe, would last up to ten minutes. The Echo will see the totem’s power diminish by the candlelight in its eye. More charges may be purchased for 100 emblems after the voucher’s submission.

Autumn Flora + Fauna.

Bulb Beetles

Flying bugs whose entire bodies glow a bright, yellow-orange light. They are brighter than fireflies, and will also chirp a little tune during mating season. In the middle of September, they hatch into Bulb Larvae before burrowing underground to morph into their adult forms.

Throughout October, the Bulb Beetles fill the sky, shining their lights while they are looking for mates. Once they find a mate, they will lay their eggs underground. These eggs will remain dormant and incubate until the next autumn. 

Gourm Turkey

An Arcanus variant of turkey sporting brilliant purple feathers that ombre to resemble a sunset. They’re typically temperamental animals and require a very specific environment in order to be raised happily. They are so picky about this, that most farmers do not find it to be a worthwhile endeavor. Wild Gourm Turkeys live in Deep Fanalea and love to cause mischief to passersby. They are fiercely protective of their chicks and will use their sharp claws to attack anything that gets too close. They nest typically under trees, their eggs taking on the same ombre effect as an adult’s feathers.  They are crepuscular in nature, being mostly active during dawn or dusk. 

Yestereve  Mushrooms

During autumn, a slew of mushrooms grow in odd places all across Arcanus Isle. These mushrooms are harvested by the locals for use in cooking. They are edible, but all have strange flavors, and are notably striking in appearance. 

Mushroom species include:

- Bunco: A flat mushroom with a large cap colored in a red-to-orange gradient. It is noted as being incredibly spicy, and has an equally strong aroma. - Cozen: A very long mushroom with a glowing blue cap. It is noted for having a minty/cold flavor. - Gull: A mushroom with multiple small golden heads that almost sound like a bell when touched. They have an intense bitter flavor. - Rook: A mushroom with a sphere shaped, purple. It leaves behind a purple stain if it touches any clothes or fabric. It has a sweet, fruity flavor. - Wile: A mushroom that looks like it has been turned inside out. It is a striking, pure white. It has a very salty taste. 

Arcana Pumpkins

An orange and white striped pumpkin with green colored seeds inside. Some variations may also feature speckles. These pumpkins grow from a white vine that flowers and leaves. They are a favorite ingredient in many fall-themed dishes, having a similar but typically more savory taste than a normal pumpkin. Arcana Pumpkins are native to Arcanus Isle.

They are also a feature in the popular tradition of Pumpkin Carving as they rot significantly slower than normal pumpkins. When a candle is placed inside and lit, legends say that you can hear the voice of a loved one from your past speak to you.

[ghostsy]

Midas Touch

WARNINGS: yandere, possessiveness, manipulation, implied abuse, non-consensual implications, toxic relationship, unreliable narrator

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! SHIGARAKI TOMURA X READER

“I’m sorry.”

“No talking,” Her lips twisted, but still she kept her gaze towards the setting sun, “Please. No talking, please.”

“Okay,” He sighed, and a heavy feeling settled on his heart, “No talking.”

He figured it less of a wish for silence, and more a fear of what she would say if she allowed herself to speak. A fear of what he would do if the words strayed from the script he’d given her who knows how many days or months or years ago.

He supposed he couldn’t blame her, but the thought still left a bitter taste in his mouth, tongue itching against his teeth, desperate to bridge the gap between them.

But he swallowed the urge, and settled for staring instead. She never said he couldn’t stare, and though she drew her knees closer to her chest, she didn’t reprimand him. Wouldn’t. 

And try as he might, he couldn’t tear his eyes from her profile; how regal it was, the warm golden glow of the setting sun surrounding them, though, seeming only to grace her with its light. Orange gleamed against her skin, eyes shimmering as flecks of yellow danced along the waterline.

The shine that crept at the edges of her lashes followed the sharp curve of her nose, and like strokes of a painting, it swept across her cheekbones.

A soft wind blew through her hair, rose-gold glimmering between the gaps of the swaying strands, and coloring the ends in a brilliant kind of orange-red. Kind of like a halo, he thought.

And then he caught sight of it, and the weight in his chest cracked his ribs. 

It was an ugly sort of blue-green, distracting from the warm light that would have made her look altogether angelic. Would have. But the purpling fingerprints–five, to be exact–stained the sides of her throat, and he felt like screaming.

But she asked him not to speak. And so he wouldn’t. Sew his mouth shut until she deemed it worthy enough to open. Perhaps that was the solution; it seemed that words only ever hurt the both of them. Her, not you.

Once upon a time, he thought she was something made only for him. A shiny toy he could touch and hold and squeeze. A toy that wouldn’t break. 

He realized, in time, however, that he had never known how to take care of his toys as a child. Long before they’d turn to dust, he’d never handled anything as delicate, as soft, as pretty.

But she wasn’t a toy. And, though she couldn’t shatter under his touch, she could break. Scream and cry and beg while he took and took and took. Whatever momentary pleasure he’d stolen from her dissolving in the darkness of the aftermath. The bruises. The blood. The tears.

He sent her a silent apology; she may not have been made for him, but she had made him something. Took what broken nothing he knew he was, and warmed the dead and blackened coal in his chest until it set aflame cradled between hands soft as silk.

He hadn’t anything else to grasp onto–literally or otherwise–that could keep him from falling to pieces himself. He was selfish, he knew, but it was moments like these–moments whose frequency he could no longer count–where he felt guilty. 

It had become a pattern. Whatever anger or hatred or resentment he felt towards the world became a burden for her to bear. He naively, cruelly, thought her responsible for keeping his own shadows in check. Use her golden touch, give that bright smile he hadn’t seen in who knows how long, save him with her stolen radiance. 

Only to realize time and time again that shadows were greedy, creeping and growing, laughing as they devoured the light, licking desperately at their fangs for more to rip, more to tear. More to destroy. 

And after his shadows had smothered her light, he’d work his way to forgiveness by finally letting her breathe, consciously or otherwise, believing it enough to erase the indiscretions of his own darkness. Give that snuffed out golden flame a little breeze to reignite the fire.

It was a pattern of which he was painfully aware. Still, it was a lesson that never seemed to stick, and he was reminded of their current predicament.

In the distance, the sun fell beneath the horizon, its glow swallowed up by the edge of the earth. The cityscape was less alive for it, fluorescent yellow-blues filling the glass spaces, too bright neons flickering on.

His focus was pulled back to her as a sigh left her lips. The pink-orange glimmer had left her now, and the blue film of the night had tinted her skin. 

How fitting. 

The weight on his heart settled, and burning disgust used the heavy bones as kindling. He wished the fire to turn him to ash from the inside out, but found it to be yet another selfish desire. She had no need for graying ashes. 

Though, following the discolorations that surely trailed further and deeper onto the canvas of her skin hidden from view–had she any use for him?

He hadn’t noticed he’d started crying until the brush of fingertips traced along the back of his hand, rubbing fallen tears from his knuckles. Turning, he watched as she reached beside her, where his palm lay flat against the roof, pulling his fingers into her own.

As he scanned her, face still turned away, he realized that the bruises blended in with the twilight. Even without the sun, even covered in shadow, she was beautiful. With her hand in his own, soothing at the skin with her thumb, and the evidence of his indiscretion fading with the darkening sky, he found himself finally able to breathe.

He looked to their interlocked fingers, grip turning fierce, desperate. Trying to convey all the words unspoken. She didn’t protest, opting instead to squeeze at his hand in some sort of placation, forgiveness, and he remembered exactly why they needed each other. Why they loved each other.

Maybe this time would be different. She didn’t need to keep the shadows at bay if she joined him in the darkness. He’d dragged her there too many times for her to keep her shine. But there were still stars in the night sky. She’d still shine, in a different way than before, but it was enough.

He didn’t need her golden. This was fine. This time things could be different. Would be.

He smiled, sighing, letting his own self-loathing melt away with the misty clouds now eaten up by blended purple-blues. And though she wasn’t looking, as if his thoughts were loud enough for her to hear, to listen, her own lips parted as a reminder. Though, the words had lost their edge.

“No talking.” 

“Right,” He breathed, “No talking.”

I’m sorry.

[casperghoost]

My headcanons about ghouls and their elements

Quintessence 💜

Eye color = purple

They have the ability to read others’ emotions and are able to heal when someone is hurting to a certain degree (mentally and physically)

They have bioluminescent horns, tails, and hair highlights; each quint ghoul has shimmering highlights in their hair that are some shade of purple or indigo. While using their powers, they form a glowing halo around their horns.

Fire ❤️

Eye color = red/reddish orange

They have the ability to light things on fire with their hands and work as a living space heater. Their body temperature is naturally a little higher than other ghouls and it can increase due to heightened emotions. They can possibly overheat if they don’t have somewhere to cool down.

They have the most ambition and energy/stamina but have tendency to be aggressive or snappy

Water 🩵

Eye color = blue

They have the ability to breathe underwater and are good swimmers. Their skin is thick and it makes them able to be in water for long periods of time.

They have a set of gills on their neck and ribs, and the end of their tail is fin-like rather than spear shaped like other ghouls.

They are the most compassionate or emotional and tend to be quiet or reserved

Earth 💚

Eye color = green/hazel

They have the ability to manipulate the shape plants or earthy materials like stones or wood. They are naturally very good with growing and taking care of plants (maybe even be able to communicate with them).

They tend to be the most level headed or “down to earth” ghouls

Air 🩶

Eye color = gray

They have a pair of feathery wings that allow them to fly low to the ground for short distances (like the flying ability of a chicken rather than a hawk lol)

They are naturally quite intelligent and logical

Multi 🌟

Eye color = gold/brown

Multi ghouls are born with a randomized mix of abilities from any of the elements, though not as strongly. It’s extremely rare for them to have physical traits of the elements like gills or wings. They usually have mental/behavioral characteristics like habits, intelligence/skills, or temperament.

If I had to guess… ⇩

Swiss = 50% fire // 20% earth // 15% water // 10% air // 5% quintessence

Aurora = 40% air // 25% water // 20% earth // 10% quintessence // 5% fire

[noxgold]

The Pride of S.T.A.R.S.

Raccoon City has declared that it was holding its first ever Pride Parade, and a group of friends decide to go together. Chris/Albert, minor Claire/Jill & Rita/Forest - Rated T. AO3 link

~

Chris resisted the urge to squirm in place as Claire carefully brushed the make-up over his cheeks, leaving stripes of purple behind as she went. It was the last finishing touch before she was done, and he had to admit, he was antsy to get going. Raccoon City had declared that it was holding its first ever Pride Parade, and it hadn't taken Jill long to convince them to go together. 

“All done!” Claire's cheerful chirp had him grinning back, careful not to smudge the flag she had etched across each cheekbone in glittery eyeshadow. His little sister was dressed down due to the June heat in dark blue jean shorts, a purple tank top bedazzled with a pink glittery heart, and her hair tied back in a messy bun with a bisexual flag bandanna keeping any stray wisps back off her face. 

Gesturing for Chris to go check himself out in the hallway mirror, Claire ducked past to grab her bag and put on her shoes by the door. The sight of worn black jeans and his grey FREE BEAR HUGS shirt was familiar, along with the rainbow beaded necklace. But what caught and held his eyes were the differing flags on each cheek. On his left cheek soared the six stripes of the rainbow flag, as bright and joyous as any real rainbow. But what really held him was his right cheekbone, four defiant bands of black, grey, white, and purple shimmering in the hallway light. 

That was him. His flags, the confirmation that he belonged, that there was more than just him that felt this way. As he stood there, caught by the mirror, Claire quietly approached him, hand slipped into his to offer a gentle squeeze. “Are you ready to go?”

Casting one long lingering look at his reflection, Chris nodded, still holding his sister’s hand in his. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s get this show on the road.” 

Raccoon Street was a riot of noise and colour, voices singing and chanting as the parade slowly marched on. They had managed to find a parking spot a few streets over, and were now hovering near the corner of Filbert Street across from the zoo as they waited for the rest of the group to arrive. 

Peering over the heads of the crowd, Chris squinted through the sunlight for any sign of his friends as he tapped his fingers against his jeans. The parade was going to start in less than 20 minutes but the place was already swarmed, and he had already given out more hugs than he could count. Apparently, free bear hugs were a siren song none could ignore. 

“Hey, Claire Cakes! Over here!”

Head turning at the familiar sound of Jill’s voice calling to his sister, laughter spilled out at the sight of Jill elbowing her way through the crowd, Rebecca tagging closely behind. Both of them had somehow managed to find a stand selling slushies and hotdogs, with Jill dual-wielding the food in each hand. 

Jill had somehow managed to scrounge up a lesbian flag temporary tattoo for her bicep and a tank top reading Rock Paper Scissors in shades of pink, orange, and red, which Chris didn’t quite get but judging from Jill’s smirk, he very much didn’t want to ask. Behind her, Rebecca was decked out in a short blue dress decorated in bright pink and yellow flowers, along with a matching sun hat with a little pansexual flag sticking out of it.

Rebecca's smile was glowing as she ducked around Jill, glitter sprinkled across her cheekbones like freckles. “Free Bear Hugs? Don't mind if I do.” Passing her neon pink slushie off to Claire, it only took a simple raise of her arms for Chris to sweep her up into a hug. Rebecca’s laugh was like the ringing of bells in his ears, her hands clutching his shoulders as he gave in to the urge to pick her up and squish her in his arms. Offering her one last squeeze before gently dropping her back down on her feet, Chris’ answering grin was wide enough to make his cheeks ache.

As soon as Rebecca was clear, Jill was bounding forwards, handing her hotdogs off to Claire with a “Oh, me next! Hold this for me, babe,” before launching herself forwards into Chris’ arms. The force had him moving with the momentum, using it to whip Jill around in a dizzying spin as she cackled madly in his arms. 

He wasn’t sure which of them were more dizzy when he finally set her down, Jill stumbling for a moment before turning back to Claire to retrieve her food. Only to find his sister with her cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk’s, and one of the hotdogs with a significant bite missing from it. “My hotdog! Treason! Betrayal!” 

Claire’s eyes sparkled with laughter as she ducked away from the swatting hands of Jill, furiously chewing through her pilfered snack. “You're not meant to keep eating it! Claire!”

“You would think by now, she would know better than to hand food to a Redfield and expect to get it back.”

The quietly amused voice from behind him had Chris jumping, spinning on his heel away from the sight of Jill chasing around her gleeful girlfriend. “Captain!”

His captain was dressed in his ever present sunglasses, having donned casual slacks and a button up shirt for the event, the only concession to the heat were the sleeves rolled up to his biceps. The only sign that Albert even knew he was at a pride festival were the woven cuffs wrapped around each wrist. The one on his right side was laced in the same shade of blue yellow and pink as Rebecca's dress, while one on his right boasted shades of black, grey, white, and two differing hues of green, the aromantic to Chris’ asexual.

The responding glance was gently chiding, a pale hand gesturing out at the people clustering around them. “I'm not on duty today, Christopher.”

“Albert.” The man’s name was sweet as honey on his lips, a litany of unspoken confessions. There had always been respect and admiration between them, but recently something soft and tender had nestled behind Chris’ ribs. A feeling unnamed and unsure of its welcome. He had never felt this way before for anyone, and struggled to explain exactly the hows and the whys. Only that being around Albert made him happy. 

He had never found the courage to confront it, to express to Albert his interest, unsure that they would even be compatible romantically or sexually. Sex had never been an interest of his, even during puberty when he figured out that he only thought about other men when the topic came up. He never understood the attraction or the way his peers had spoken about the things they wanted to do with each other. Whenever he thought about touch, it always came back to the idea of snuggling on the couch and exchanging kisses, nothing more. Chris only ever wanted the romance of a partner, but now it was clear that Albert didn’t. Was there even a chance?

But if he never tried, there was no chance at all. 

Jill’s whoop of victory washed over him as she paraded past, Claire swept up in her arms and still holding on to that last hotdog for dear life. At some point Marvin, Rita, and Forest had finally joined them, a gay flag wrapped around Marvin’s shoulders like a cape. Rita’s short hair had been coloured in shades of blue, pink, and purple to match her skirt, while Forest stood nearby in support of his girlfriend as they laughed at the sight. 

All the sights and sounds sweeping around him like a summer storm, yet all Chris could focus on was Albert. Rebecca was calling for them as the parade was starting, and he should say something, yet his brain wouldn’t work, and his mouth couldn’t move, and,

Oh.

Albert’s lips were warm against his, soft yet firm. A hand cupping his cheek to hold him still, thumb brushing against the purple streaks as Albert slightly pulled away with a quirk of his smile. “I can hear your brain overheating, Chris.”

His poor aforementioned brain seemed to finally get with the program, churning out enough words for them to get tangled on his tongue in the confusion. “You- I-?.” 

Albert’s chuckle made his breath catch, offering one last stroke of his cheek before finally stepping back. “You’re not as discreet as you thought you were. I’ve been interested in you for awhile but you seemed oblivious to my attention. So I decided to go with a more overt plan of attack.”

Chris mentally scrambled through his memories, hunting for any signs that he could have missed that Albert was actually interested in him that way. “Really?”

“Really. Now, I believe we should catch up with our friends and prevent poor Marvin from being swarmed. And afterwards, you and I can return to my place and discuss how this could work in depth. Okay?”

Right, yeah. They can do that. Have a responsible discussion like adults about wants and boundaries. But for now, all Chris had to do was accept Albert’s hand and follow him once more into the breach. “Yes, Captain.”

[technicallysublimechild]

Summary:

In a desperate bid to save everything he cherishes, Mikey must give himself over to an ancient and powerful magic.

Based on the song The Line by Twenty One Pilots.

---

He can't fight it this time.

When he feels its call, he opens himself to it. Lets it draw towards him from where it had been lost in the heat of the batte.

He wasn't supposed to be here. He should have been at home with their father. Safe and protected. Left behind while his brothers desperately tried to fix everything - to fix him.

Standing atop a great mass of rubble, the expanse of smoldering destruction only confirms what he already knows. What the waning, flickering flames of his brothers’ Ninpo had already made clear. It wasn't going to be enough.

I told you. It whispers in his mind.

The now familiar presence grows stronger as a flash of cold white light crests a bank of downed buildings and starts to float towards him.

Mikey’s mouth turns up in a weak smile. “Worth a shot.” He argues.

Was it? The entity questions as the white light reaches the summit and glides to a halt in front of Mikey. The clear, rounded crystal the light emanates from rotating lazily as it floats before him.

Instead of responding, Mikey looks up. The sky is dark, filled with an inky blackness that blocks out the stars and moon. The only lights he can see are the bright purple, red and blue streaks that slash through the darkness, locked in combat with creatures of the shadow.

“It is to them.” He says earnestly. “They'll never stop trying.”

Indeed. They will die trying.

“...and it still won't be enough.” Mikey quotes back in a desolate whisper.

No.

Mikey feels the presence glide across his mind, allowing him to sense its magic and the potential it holds. It feels like a delicate and intricate web, but strong and ancient like the entity above. There's an emptiness there though, a dark space where immense power and warmth should be.

The magic tingles across his scales, drawing out a brief orange glow and eliciting a full body shiver from the turtle. It's drawn to him he knows, ever since the crystal was first uncovered, weaving into his dreams and whispering over his shoulder.

He knows what it wants. Knows it senses the waves of his mystic energy that break just beneath the surface. A deep well of power that feels as vast and endless as the ocean. They'd all assumed the magic to be a malevolent force, seeking to twist and corrupt the youngest’s gift. He knows better now, can feel its unrelenting desire to fulfill its one and only purpose. To purify the darkness that threatens to engulf them all.

He gently reaches his cupped hands out towards the glittering gem. The light pulses, refracting into a million shimmering colours within the crystal before it slowly floats towards him and settles neatly into the palms of his hands.

You must be sure. The voice says. It will take everything you have.

He grins with false bravado, chuckling weakly. “Then it's a good thing I always give 110%.”

He receives no response. His smile fades.

Looking up at the sky, he sees his brothers weaving through the darkness, feels their desperation and determination through their ancestral connection. He feels tears begin to build up behind his eyes, knowing they'll never forgive him for this. Will never forgive themselves. How many times have they promised each other that there would be no more sacrifice plays? God, they're going to be so disappointed in him.

He looks back down at the gem, both heavy and weightless in his hands.

“If you cross that line, there's no going back.”

It's Karai’s voice. A memory of the dire warning she had provided when his family had sought the advice of their ancestors.

“It is a powerful magic, but it demands everything that you are. Your heart, your body, your soul.” Her glowing astral form explained with grave certainty. “Even if you were to survive, you would no longer be yourself and your connection to the Hamato clan would be severed forever. You could never be brought back over.”

Tears begin to fall from Mikey’s eyes. He's terrified. He's been fighting this for so long, but there's nothing left to try. He has to do this.

A ripple carries through the connection from his brothers, their alarm and concern jumping to the forefront as they sense his despair. They're aware of his presence now. He feels them disengage from their enemy, scanning the destruction below for his location.

We're running out of time. The magic whispers to him as it wraps around his arms, reaching beseechingly towards him.

Mikey closes his eyes, drawing in a deep, expansive breath. He holds it for a moment, reaching for an inner strength that feels like broad shoulders and a spiked shell, a resolve that feels like industrious hands and an obstinate brow, a courage that feels like a brazen smile and steady gaze.

“If you cross the line…” Karai's voice echoes in his head.

Mikey exhales as he pulls the glowing crystal in towards his plastron, placing it at the centre of his chest. The light of the crystal pulses.

“...there's no going back.”

He pushes. Pressing the gem into his plastron as his mystic powers activate. They push back against him, fighting the intrusion in a wave of bright orange energy that whips up around him.

In response the white light of the gem flares and Mikey's breath catches in his throat at the sudden pain that rips into his chest. The magic stabs into him, burrowing deep into his core as it seeks the power buried within.

Don't fight it. The voice ripples through his body.

Mikey tries but his powers feel like they're acting on their own, desperate and frenzied as they push back against the gem. The energy ignites under his scales, waves of orange fire rolling off him and forming a raging, defensive mass around him.

Mikey grits his teeth and pushes harder.

“Mikey!”

The orange banded turtle looks up, seeing his brothers racing towards him. Matching looks of fear on their faces.

“Fight it Mike! You don't want this!”

“Angelo, we can find another way!”

“Don't you dare give up on us Mikey!”

They're begging him to stop but their presence only settles Mikey's resolve further. He redoubles his effort, pushing the gemstone even farther into his plastron as he screams through the exertion. The pain gets impossibly worse, tears streaking down his face as he watches glowing white cracks split across his plastron from beneath his hands.

He only has a moment to watch in morbid fascination before both he and the gem sense an evil intent. Whether it knows the true nature of the weapon below or it just senses a potential threat, the great darkness above is now aware of them. They need to hurry.

Mikey's brothers stop a few feet away from him, unable to get past the fiery, blazing energy that surrounds their youngest brother.

“Dammit!” Raph yells as they notice a dark form barrelling down upon the group. His red construct bursts forward to meet the attack head on, holding it at bay for a moment before it sends him flying off to the side.

“It's going to go after Mikey and the gemstone.” Donnie tells Leo quickly. “We'll keep it off of you two. Find a way to get to him.”

Leo nods and with a brief worried glance back at his brother, Donatello flies off to help Raph buy them some time.

Mikey ignores his brothers, intent upon the stone at his chest. They don't have time. He needs to do this faster. He focuses through the pain and chaos around him and pictures himself pulling the magic into his body. Opening himself up to the gemstone.

The pain begins to abate, the sharp stabbing replaced by a biting numbness that spreads from his core out to his extremities. But the fire and sparks whipping around him only pick up in speed and intensity, stretching out in desperation as an icy white energy reaches out, consuming it.

He begins to feel detached from the world around him as the whispering voice in his head becomes an all encompassing cacophony. He watches his memories flit past at a breakneck speed like the pages of a book caught in the wind. He feels the presence from the gem sink into him, filling in all the spaces and ripping through the fabric of his being.

He's so caught up in the sensations lancing through his mind and body that he doesn't notice the portal that opens up in front of him. The warm hands that pull his own away from the gem at his chest as chaos rages around them.

“Mikey! Miguel! God you're freezing.” Leo says, suddenly right there. Leo stares down at Mikey's hands before his eyes jump to the stone embedded in Mikey's chest, surrounded by an expanding web of white cracks.

Leo stares wide eyed. “No, no, no, stay with me Miguel.” He brings a hand up to Mikey's face, patting Mikey's cheek urgently. “Come on baby brother, come back to us.”

With a lethargy that Mikey has never before known, he slowly brings his full focus up to his brother. The fear and concern in the blue banded turtle's eyes bringing forth memories from the swirling chaos of his mind. The memories race past; he's lying in bed and terribly ill, he hides in an alley, lost and alone on the surface, he wakes up in the medbay after opening a portal across dimensions. Each memory comes with disjointed sensations; a blanket pulled tightly over his shoulders, the grittiness of concrete beneath his feet, shooting pains through his fingers and up his arms. They all end with those same worried eyes looking down at him.

The memories are grainy and hard to hold onto, the storm raging in his mind rips them away before they can fully form. He feels like he's being buffeted around on the inside and out, lost and adrift at sea. Mikey just stares up at his brother, vaguely aware of the tears still trailing down his face. He hears a faraway voice saying “If you cross the line...”.

“There's no going back.” He finishes aloud.

Leo's face drops in despair before hardening into angry denial.

“No! I didn't give up on Raph. You didn't give up on me. Like hell am I giving up on you!” He growls.

Mikey smiles, eyes closing as he soaks in the comfort Leo's fierce words bring. A sense of calm is starting to wash over him. He feels the storm inside him beginning to subside, the ice melting away and the feeling of a warm light shining on his face. Memories and thoughts and feelings are still slipping through the cracks but he somehow feels more complete then he's ever felt before, filled with purpose and the power to drive away the darkness.

“Mikey, please.” Leo begs, shaking Mikey by the shoulders. “Please. You have to fight this.”

From the fading reel of his life, Mikey pictures a similar scene. He's holding a bruised and bandaged brother. It's just them, alone in the dark as they recover from their injuries. He's still so scared, he's never really had to face this fear before. The thought of losing one of his brothers had always been too impossible to be real. Drowning in that same fear, his brother pleads with him, makes him promise to never do something so dangerous again. Not for him, never for him, his brother begs.

Mikey looks up at that same turtle in front of him, aware of the promise he's now broken. “Did I disappoint you?” He asks curiously.

A breath catches in his brother's throat, tears brimming in his eyes as he cradles Mikey's face in his hands. The space around them is quiet, the frantic flames of energy now still and clear as glass.

Mikey's brother searches his face, wiping away a lingering tear before forcing a soft, sad smile. He leans forward and gently rests his forehead against Mikey's.

“No Michaelangelo, you could never disappoint us.” He answers earnestly. “Whatever happens, we love you and we'll find you. We'll bring you back.”

Mikey feels a bright, familiar grin break across his face.

He thinks of broad shoulders and a spiked shell, and he feels strength.

He thinks of industrious hands and an obstinate brow, and he feels determination.

He thinks of a brazen smile and looks into his brother's steady gaze, and he feels courage.

His body glows with a brilliant white light. The gem at his chest refracting it out across the spectrum.

He closes his eyes and crosses the line.

[softagenda]

fit to be tied (vere)

vere x reader(f)

undercover au / jealousy / short fic

originally posted on ao3

masterlist

Preview

“Was this little masquerade really necessary?” He drawled, his tone straddling a line between bored and repulsed. A pinch tugged at the silk around your waist. “Dolled up like a shiny bauble. That blithering, sycophantic idiot will drool over you the whole night.”

___________________________

All that glittered was not gold. 

Just most of it.

As you set the last ribbon on the dresser, fingers teasing out a long, loose curl that bounced and trailed over your shoulder, finally free from its silk prison of the night before, you’re at a loss for words. 

The person in the mirror before you was nearly unrecognizable. 

She wore a silk dress that hugged her waist and flowed down to her ankles in a fluttery river, the deep black of a starless sky. Loose curls of dark hair draped around her shoulders and down her back, soft and shiny in their luster. A thin gold chain descended down the open neckline, a single garnett tear hanging in the valley of her chest. Matching gold earrings brushed against her jaw with every turn of her head, and a gold cuff curled around the shell of her right one - an incognito communication device that would allow her and Leander to talk at a distance. 

It was the most luxurious you’d ever felt in your life. 

You took a deep breath and, more out of nerves than need, dabbed another layer of shimmering blush across the top of your cheeks, the way Elyion had shown you, before setting the brush down. In the flickering light of the room, you looked more like some lord’s wealthy wife than a cursed orphan whose own mentor had abandoned after your usefulness had run out.

Your hands, usually wrapped in worn bandages, were now clothed in silk black gloves that covered your skin just below the elbow. You wondered for a moment whether you could ask to keep them - they covered your skin so much more securely than the bandages ever had - before dismissing the silly thought.

Your life had no place for silk gloves. 

Well, except for a night like this, when you were infiltrating the Senobium. 

You turned your head and glanced at the window. The setting sun had dyed the sky in brilliant hues of orange, red, and purple. Through the floor, you could hear the growing clamor of the first evening rush as people ended work for the day and traipsed to the Wet Wick for a drink. Almost time to start the mission.

You approached and cracked the window, breathing in the evening air, when the door to your room opened. 

“Ready?” you asked, expecting Leander, only for the faint chime of silver chains to turn your head. 

Lounging against the door frame was Vere, glowing pink eyes trailing languorously across your form, a smirk tugging the corners of his mouth. A vision of sin draped in gossamer robes and black leather, miles of skin on display, his tongue curling around the point of a fang, the sight of him stirred familiar heat in your belly. “Don’t you clean up nicely. Auditioning for Elyion’s next crop of strumpets?”

He was one to talk. You huffed and turned back to the street below. “He certainly pays well enough, but I’d hate to be obligated should you come by.”

“I’m a house favorite. Once, a prostitute even begged me for the honor of grinding his face into the street with my heel. The tasty meat sacks line up for the chance to serve me,” he purred, his voice thick with suggestion, his tail erupting from around his back and curling over his hip in a river of fiery fur. “I tip well.”

Given that Vere’s idea of ‘tasty’ meant the presence of deep scars left by years of suffering and abuse on the soul, the thought turned your stomach a little. “Why don’t I believe you?” At the slight frosting of the air, you added, “The tipping part, I mean. I believe you on the rest.”

As you watched, Leander appeared from the door of the Wick, his form wrapped deliciously in a suit, his hair slicked back. He spoke with several hounds lingering in a group, clearly giving some kind of instructions, before slapping one on the back and sending them off. He turned around and glanced up the front of the Inn, his gaze finding you in the window. His expression went strangely blank for a moment, before his jaw clenched and he waved up at you, grinning.

You started to wave back when your hand was pinned to the window sill. Heat pressed against you, burning at your back. The lightest brush of diaphanous silk stroked along your bare back, along with the cold tease of a heavy chain. 

“Because our arrangement has been all business, very little fun,” Vere said, his mouth at your ear, each word a breath warming your skin. “One should be tight-fisted with money, but open-palmed to pleasure.”

“I’ve been receiving the tight-fisted treatment? Says a lot about how you find my company,” you retorted, stiffening as a laugh ghosted down your neck, drawing goosebumps in his wake. His fingers on the sil fit between yours and curled, tightening into a steel grip. Claws pricked teasingly against your palm through the gloves.

“Was this little masquerade really necessary?” He drawled, his tone straddling a line between bored and repulsed. A pinch tugged at the silk around your waist. “Dolled up like a shiny bauble. That blithering, sycophantic idiot will drool over you the whole night.” 

“You know why we’re doing this.” While the Senobium had its doors open for the Midnight Gala, a night of drinks and dancing meant to loosen the coffers of the wealthy and well-to-do, they would sneak into the inner sanctum and access the archives. “Leander’s been good enough to offer his time and connections.” 

“So his reward is a little eye candy?” Vere rolled his eyes. “I choke back vomit at the thought of you hanging on his arm like another of his thirsty groupies. Like slapping a crown on a dirty, flea-ridden peasant."

You paused. In his own twisted way, Vere had almost paid you a compliment. Still, the insult to Leander had you grinding your teeth a little. “Really? Looks the picture of a heroic, handsome mage to me.” 

You glanced out of the window again. Leander stood on the street, gazing up, but where before his face was flushed and grinning, he now watched, pale-faced and wary. Your mouth opened - to do what, you weren’t sure: call out to him? - when you caught sight of the reflection in the window. 

Glowing, malevolent eyes peered back at you through the shadowed glass.

“Heroic? Handsome? That pathetic, slavering whoreson with a hound’s bent leg, forever pissing on any trash that darkens his doorstep?” Vere sneered. His tail curled over your thigh, his fur gliding against the silk until the tip wrapped around you, trapping you in a loose embrace. “Hypocritical half-wit’s more like it.”

You stiffened, glancing down at the tail, before returning his gaze in the reflection.

“He’s got more manners than some , at least. Don’t you know better than to touch without asking?” you replied, your words echoing his from the very night you’d met. 

Those glowing eyes thinned. “Can I, please ?” he asked, playing along in a velvet smooth tone, like a knife hidden within a bed of silk.

You licked your dry lips and swallowed, a cold sweat forming along your spine despite the heat radiating off him. “No. You may look, but don’t touch.” 

“And Leander?” His other hand had slipped under your arm and now wrapped around your throat. He squeezed lightly, one claw scratching at the edge of your jaw, thumb pressed to your jugular, your windpipe nestled in the palm of his hand. “May he touch?”

Your heart pounded in your chest. A ringing filled your ears. Fear, acrid and sharp, burned in the back of your mouth. But you weren’t a coward. 

“I haven’t decided yet,” you choked back, the words breathless as his grip tightened. It was mostly a lie - taking Leander to bed was the last thing on your mind, but damn it if the terrible, ill-fortuned choice wasn’t yours to make if you wanted.

Pain cut white and hot across the crook of your shoulder as he nipped the skin with his fang. 

You jerked, gasping, as his mouth returned to your ear. 

“That driveling fool still lives, because killing him would be more effort than he deserves. More to the point, he’d probably taste disgusting. Slimy. Like a gutter slug.” Vere murmured, pausing to drag the sharp tip of his fang against your skin. “Should you decide to tip the scales in his favor… his sweet release from this life can be happily arranged.”

Shadows swam in the corners of your vision - whether they were his beast taking corporeal form or the lack of air hitting your brain, you couldn’t be sure. You gripped the edge of the window sill, fighting to breathe and stay conscious. “Why do you - give a fuck,” you forced out through gritted teeth.

A warm chuckle pressed into your cheek. “I don’t want his filthy hands on something of mine.”

Your stomach lurched. Fury now curdled with the fear rioting through your body. Something of mine . Some thing . “You don’t - own me,” you shot back with barely enough air for the words.

The tail flicked in agitation against your thighs. 

“From the moment we made our deal, kitten, you became mine. My tool. My toy. My little wanderer, sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.” His voice went from sultry sweet to cold in a heartbeat, a rumble echoing from deep within his chest. “Don’t fool yourself. I may wear the collar, but you’re chained to me in ways you cannot even fathom in that simple little brain of yours.”

His hold on you tightened, until your bones creaked in your hands and your lungs screamed for air. The world slipped away as darkness encroached across your vision. Your flesh burned wherever his skin met yours, searing along your back and throat. 

Seconds from passing out, the pressure vanished. 

Falling forward with a gasp, lungs heaving in as much air as you can, you sank onto the window frame. It was as though you’d stepped out from an oven, relief as sweet as the cool night air soothing your skin. You forced yourself to turn around on trembling legs, terror a living, panicked animal in your brain. 

Vere stood at the threshold of the door. He stroked his claws down the frame, the movement soft as though petting a lover, even as he tore rivets into the wood. Bright eyes peered at you from beneath the waterfall of red hair, his ears perked toward you. 

He smiled, his lips parting around sharp, pretty teeth. 

“Enjoy your little date at the Senobium, kitten. I’ll be watching.”

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a/n: thanks for reading!

[cherrb333]

the lost hamato sibling

chapter 2: an unlikely friendship

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Masterpost

It had been a few days since she moved in, and the breakdown in her room. So far, she had been adjusting well, And Usagi was out most of the time, which was a plus. She didn't have to see that stupid rabbit for a week after the move-in. He was out getting intel on the turtles. She didn't mind. It gave her time to be alone with the thoughts that consumed her mind. She supposed it wasn't healthy to marinate in hurtful words, but maybe she deserved it. After all, it wasn't as if what she was doing would be a good thing. She sighed, deciding to get up off the couch and go out. Some fresh air might clear her head. She grabbed her hood, grabbed the portal Key Mama had given her and opened a portal to the human streets, where she began scaling a building. It was peaceful up here, the sky was cloudy, dark and gloomy as the hint of a downpour clung to the winds. She jumped from building to building until She made it to a recluse little rooftop, no one in sight. She dropped soundlessly onto the concrete beside what seemed to be a pool, her eyes gleaming in joy as she slowly surveyed her surroundings before dipping into the cool water. It felt nice against the smooth green of her skin, the scales shimmering with the glistening liquid that soon covered her. She slowly sunk deep under the water, she sat on the bottom of the pool just relishing in the complete silence that surrounded her. It was nice. Her thoughts seemed to wash away with the waves that pushed against her as she swam around in the pool. Being a turtle had its perks, she could stay under the water for a lot longer than a normal human, and she swam better because Of the skin and shell she had. Her tail wagged as she relished the feeling of blowing bubbles under the water and watching them float up to the surface. She didn't know how long she stayed under, but by the time she pulled to the surface, the clouds Had disputed and All that was left in their wake was a beautiful starry sky. She shivered as the cold air fell on her shoulders. She got out, grabbed her cloak from where she'd thrown it and began fasting it to her shoulders, cuddling into The warmth it provided her. She began the walk back to her home only to stop when she caught a glimpse of red blue purple and orange. She stopped in a trance as she scanned the roofs with narrowed eyes in hopes of catching another look and hoping it wasn't just her eyes playing tricks on her. She pulled her hood further down as she started in the direction she saw them disappear. She froze when she came across a fight scene. Four turtles, all varying in size, the ones she had caught a glimpse of from where she was on the rooftop, stood around what looked like a giant hippo yokai who was firing floating rings at them. She slipped down a fire escape to get a better look, still sticking to the shadows. They seemed to be very good at fighting from what she could tell she slowly slid to her knees, peeking Through the metal bars that kept her from falling forward as the blue one summoned up a portal(she didn't even know you could do that) from the tip of his sword, blue swirls coming to life as it formed the familiar glow of a portal she had seen mama use once or twice. But this one was different, it was blue, matching his mask's colour. She gasped as what looked like a giant red fist projection of the big one came barreling through the portal, landing a hit right in the back of the hippo's head.

“Ah! You pesky turtles! Always interfering with my plans! Well, I'll show you what happens when you mess with a magician's magic trick” the hippo growled, summoning more rings that were bigger to come raining down on the four. The big one smacked them away from them with his big red hand, sending them flying. Right in the direction of Renai. Crap. She yelped as she jumped back, cursing as the turtles looked in her direction. She almost fell off the railing with how quickly she ducked behind a compost bin that conveniently sat on her. Luckily, they all shrugged off the sound thanks to the enemy using the distraction as a point to attack the brothers. She let out a shaky breath as she slowly glanced over the compost bin. Thank god, but she had to be more careful...

“Where have you been?” The harsh tone called from in the black room as Renai slowly slipped back in from her night adventures. She yelped, heart dropping as the clatter of her weapon jostling against her hip filled the room followed by her clumsily tripping over her own feet as he startled her by His sudden appearance. She turned around to glance at him, cowering in the gaze that greeted her, feeling a sense that she was in trouble.

“Heyyyyyy usagi” she chuckled nervously, slowly dropping to the ground and turning to shut the window behind her. 

“Don't 'hey usagi’ me. You weren't supposed to go out yet. And especially not without me! God, do you want Mama to kill me?” Usagi began lecturing, eyes narrowing in concern and anger as he stood up from where he was sitting, Furiously tapping his foot. Flinching away from the gaze She slowly slipped past him to head to the kitchen.

“Listen. I'm fine! You don't have to badger me, I don't need you to babysit me! I'm 12 years old! I'm practically a grown-up” She huffed as she grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, taking a huge gulp of the cool liquid. Usagi furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance.

“That's just it. Your 12! You shouldn't be alone, especially in this city! Do you know just how many enemies Big Mama has!? You could've gotten hurt!” Renai slammed the fridge closed, turning to glare at the rabbit.

“I can take care of myself. In case you've forgotten, I am the battle nexus champion. My whole life has been a battle to survive. This city is child's play compared to the battle nexus.” she growled as she sauntered away to her room in anger. Usagis's face fell as he remembered what he had heard yesterday through the door. He Inhaled slowly, tears welling in his eyes.

“I'm sorry” he whispered, causing Renai to stop in her tracks, breath hitching as she turned swiftly to glare at him.

“What?” She scoffed, crossing her arms as she felt her cat rub against her leg. Usagi bit his lip, foot still Violently tapping as his mood shifted to one of anxiety.

“I'm sorry,” he said a little clearer, rubbing his hand nervously on the back of his head. “I…I didn't realize how much you've been through. I just want you to know that you don't have to do it alone. I…I was also in the battle nexus. I know how gruelling it was, and you? You were only a child! You shouldn't have been put through that.” He huffed, looking at her with a sorrowful look. Her face blanked As she processed his words. What? Why was he apologizing? Didn't he hate her? Lots of people did so She had just assumed-

“Why?” Her voice cut coldly into the warm atmosphere, the tone unnervingly monotone. Usagi shivered as he blinked In confusion.

“Huh?” He slowly dropped his hands down to rest at his sides, tilting his head at the younger kappa.

“Why are you being so…nice? I thought you…I thought you hated me.” She spat as her face became unreadable, emotions becoming too much for her to express. Usagi’s face fell in anguish

“What?” He whispered, Slowly creeping forward to the younger Turtle as he placed his furry hand on her shoulder “Hate you? Never. Sure, I like teasing you but hate you? Why would you think-” A look of realization fell on him followed by a look of sorrow. Now he felt even more bad. Had he come off as hating her? Shit. He needed to fix this. “I'm…sorry if my banter came off as hating you… I…I see you as A younger sibling, I didn't mean anything by those words. I'll refrain from that if that makes you happy” he softly spoke as he watched renais closed-off expression melt. For the first time, she was feeling something other than the hate she had thought was clouded around her. She felt her chest tighten as tears slipped from her eyes. She furiously wiped At them as she frowned.

“thank you” she sniffled as she felt Usagi pull her into a hug, he slowly ran a warm hand up and down her back to comfort the kid. She shivered at the feeling of his fingers on her shell, whimpering at the touch, he stopped at the sound, moving his hand away as he frowned in Concern.

“S-sorry…should've asked…” he muttered as he slowly backed away from Renai, who sniffled and made grabby hands for him.

“No…its…fine…I like your hugs, fluff ball” she joked trying To lighten the mood despite the tears that glistened on her striped cheeks. Usagi rolled his eyes, pushing her away.

“Ok, that's enough hugs for you then” Renai whined as Usagi stood up, crossing her arms and huffing in sullen anger.

“Boo”

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usagi and renai's relationship is completely platonic, please don't interpret it as anything else I will cry lol. anyways thanks for reading:D

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