mythicalhuman

[mythicalhuman]

I wonder where Akuma gets his looks from…….

[mythicalhuman]

I made this for my friend @thelightof-hope

I actually never been so proud until now 😭✨✨

[mythicalhuman]

Ancient and Beast Lore

“This Ruby is shaped like my future Soul Jam. I want you to keep it so if you ever miss me you can have this as a reminder that I’ll never leave you!”

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“You promised you never leave…but why haven’t you come back yet? You promised…you promised to come back to me Scarlet Velvet Cookie….”

[mythicalhuman]

Who…Am…I?

Scarlet Velvet Cookie and Bloody Rose Cookie encounter

[mythicalhuman]

My Ancient and Beast Cookie Oc in the CRK Style

[mythicalhuman]

This is the first time I try to draw the crk style

Do anyone have any tips? Or did I do good?

[mythicalhuman]

Confirmed Rival

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The stairwell was quiet, tucked between two seldom-used corridors, echoing with the occasional hum of distant footsteps. A shaft of light spilled through a cracked window, catching on the dust in the air.

Akuma stood at the base of the stairs, hands buried in the pockets of his dark coat. His scarf hung loosely from his neck, like something he’d forgotten he was wearing. His expression was unreadable—but his gaze wasn’t.

Amina, perched lazily a few steps up, stretched her legs across the stair width. Her cheek rested on her palm as she tilted her head, studying him with gentle amusement.

“You’ve been staring again,” she said softly.

Akuma’s tone was flat, but he didn’t bother to deny it. “…It wasn’t intentional.”

Amina raised an eyebrow. “It never is. But it still means something.”

He looked away, eyes flicking down the hallway, where Juliette’s voice echoed like a breeze trying too hard to be ignored.

“Or nothing,” he said.

“You don’t watch nothing like that,” Amina murmured.

Akuma didn’t respond. But his silence was loud.

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Further down the hall, the world was louder. Juliette's voice rose and fell like music, even when she was annoyed.

“—and honestly, the administration’s expectations are completely unbalanced,” she huffed, hands flailing as she paced. “I mean, why assign both an essay and an oral exam for one subject?”

Hashimoto stood calmly, the steady rock to her storm. “Maybe they enjoy watching us suffer.”

Juliette laughed, a sharp, bright sound. Her long hair swayed as she spun around, frustration practically dancing off her in waves—but beautiful, nonetheless.

Around the corner, a different kind of electricity buzzed. Lukas leaned casually against the wall, smirking as Luca leaned in, hands adjusting the collar of Lukas’s shirt with faux precision. He murmured something teasing into his ear. Lukas chuckled lowly in reply. Two boys in their own little world.

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Back in the stairwell, Amina watched Akuma carefully. His stillness was unnatural now—tense, frozen like glass just before it shatters.His eyes were locked on Juliette. But the look in them wasn’t simple.

“Do you like her?” Amina asked, voice barely more than breath.

Akuma didn’t answer. But his hand twitched. His fingers gripped his scarf tighter.

"No. I don’t like her. I don’t even want to like her. She’s loud. Overconfident. Obsessed with perfect grades and attention. But every time he talks, it’s like the noise drowns out the things I don’t want to hear in my own head. And every time she smiles at him…

…why the hell do I care?"

Juliette’s conversation bloomed on, her laugh spilling over like honey.

And then—her fingers brushed Hashimoto’s sleeve. A subtle touch. Nothing on purpose. But something in Akuma cracked.

His eyes darkened.

Like the hallway had lost warmth.

Amina’s head snapped toward him. She felt the shift before she saw it.

“Akuma…” she whispered.

But he didn’t look at her. His face was unreadable, cold and hollow, but his eyes flickered with something raw—bitter, bleeding, dangerous.

"He don’t even see me. He'll talk to everyone else like they matter. And I’m just… background noise. Always watching. Always nothing."

Without a word, Akuma turned from Amina.

The laughter behind him faded like a radio being tuned out. Static crept in, low and white and sharp.

He walked slowly—his steps deliberate, not heavy, but final. The scarf around his neck fluttered with the breeze, like it, too, wanted to stay but knew better.

His expression didn’t change. But his clenched fist said it all. Rage. Hurt. And something colder beginning to root.

Juliette’s voice caught, mid-rant. Something—instinct, maybe—made her glance over her shoulder.

She saw a blur of dark hair and a trailing scarf disappear around the corner.

“…Was that Akuma?” she asked.

Hashimoto looked in the same direction. “I think so. He looked… off.”

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The hallway grew dimmer as he walked. The school’s old lights buzzed faintly above. Shadows gathered around Akuma’s frame.

He stopped.

Alone again.

The hum of distant conversation was gone.

His fingers flexed.

He shouldn’t care. He shouldn't feel. But he does . And now…

He doesn't know what to do with it.

[mythicalhuman]

Luca and Lukas meet for the first time

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It was the kind of afternoon where sunlight scattered like confetti across the cobblestone paths, the air filled with the hum of spring and the trickling of the campus fountain. Lukas Schneider lounged lazily on a stone bench beside it, one earbud dangling, the other feeding his brain an aggressive remix that had no business sounding as good as it did. He tapped his phone with rhythmic precision, legs sprawled like he owned the entire quad. Stacked bracelets jangled on his arm, catching the sun as much as his copper-tinted hair did.

“Okay,” he muttered to himself, scrolling through audio files, “remix idea: replace violin solo with kazoo—bold, dangerous… genius.”

Color and chaos seemed to orbit Lukas naturally—until a different kind of chaos approached.Luca Moretti, arms full and face full of annoyance. He looked like a bakery student who’d been dropped into a botanical maze—purple beanie slipping over his forehead, a pastry box balanced on his hip, notebook tucked under one arm, and two iced coffees sweating in his hands. His scowl deepened as he scanned the courtyard, looking for salvation.

“Why is every damn table in this school either covered in pollen or couples?” Luca hissed under his breath.

And there it was. The only shaded bench left. Occupied, of course, by the embodiment of musical disaster himself.

“You’re blocking the only shady bench,” he said flatly.

Lukas didn’t look up. “You’re blocking my sunlight aura.”

Luca blinked. “Wow. First time I’ve heard someone say something dumber than a cupcake in soup.”

That got Lukas’ attention. He looked up with a grin that practically twinkled. “Well, first time I’ve been insulted by someone holding two iced coffees like a caffeinated cryptid.”

They stared for a second—two strangers sizing each other up like rival protagonists in a sitcom pilot.

“I need to sit,” Luca announced.

“I need drama,” Lukas replied, scooting over with a flourish. “Let’s both win.”

With a sigh, Luca sat carefully, placing the pastry box like a border between them. Lukas eyed it with unabashed curiosity.

“What’s that?” he asked. “Bribe for friendship?”

“Peace offering for not launching you into the fountain.”

Lukas gave a satisfied hum. “I like you already.”

A beat of quiet passed, punctuated by birdsong and the faint bassline still whispering from Lukas’ earbuds.

“So…” Lukas said, tilting his head, “what’s your thing? You give bakery-boy vibes. Like you whisper to croissants or something.”

“Pastry Club,” Luca replied, sipping one of his iced coffees. “And no. I whisper to cake. Croissants are divas.”

Lukas chuckled. “Pastry Club, huh? I’m Music Club. I make noise. You make fluff.”

“I make edible art. You blast dubstep at 9 a.m.”

“Guilty.”

The two sat in mutual judgment—and accidental comfort. An unlikely rhythm was starting to form, as if sarcasm were its own language.

Lukas gestured toward the pastry box. “…You gonna share that or keep hoarding it like pastry gold?”

Luca arched a brow. “…Do you even deserve a cinnamon cream bun?”

“Probably not. But if you give me one, I’ll consider writing a theme song about your eyebrows.”

Luca pretended to weigh his options. “Fine. But you better rhyme something with ‘perfectly arched.’”

He opened the box and handed over a still-warm, cinnamon-dusted masterpiece. Lukas bit in—and his entire soul paused.

“Holy crap,” he whispered, eyes wide. “You just baked me into emotional submission.”

Luca smirked. “Welcome to the Moretti effect.”

For a while, they simply sat—two boys from wildly different worlds, side by side in the garden. The late afternoon light turned everything gold, the breeze soft, the silence not awkward anymore but easy.

“You’re not bad, Bakery Boy,” Lukas said, his voice quieter now.

Luca didn’t look at him as he smirked. “Don’t get attached, Music Man.”

But neither of them moved.

And deep down, both of them knew—

This was only the beginning.

[mythicalhuman]

Yandere

Better Quality Pictures (Tw Blood)

[mythicalhuman]

Akuma first time falling in love

[mythicalhuman]

If you want to make a character for Yandere College

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1PUc8HzlaRSxaKN-NDFwQGKoEW-SYWXENsfLD_aI4VfI/viewform

[mythicalhuman]

Yandere College: Kim Jisoo

Relationship with Akuma?: He tolerates her but thinks she’s weird.

[mythicalhuman]

Yandere College: Amina Suleiman

Relationship with Akuma?: She was the first person to befriend him since his first day.

[mythicalhuman]

Yandere College: Lukas Schneider

Relationship with Akuma?: He only tolerates him because of Luca

[mythicalhuman]

Yandere College: Luca Moretti

Relationship with Akuma?: He’s very confused with Luca but overall thinks he’s okay.

[mythicalhuman]

Yandere College: Juliette Dumas

Relationship with Akuma?: He Hates Her.

[mythicalhuman]

Another cookie to my collection