#umbra knight

[midnight-bay-if]

How would the RO's react to getting home super late and being greeted by a very sleepy MC hugging them and saying "I missed you" ?

S: Another long day, another broken promise. They had spent far too long relying solely on themselves, so when Rain suggested they delegate tasks to finish early, their brow creased, leaving them to wonder, 'Why?’. They enjoyed their work and had always believed in the principle of ‘if you want a job done well, do it yourself’. This had been a gross miscalculation and neglect on their part.  

They had left you waiting.

So, when they return home in the early hours, they expect to walk into a dark, cold house where an eerie silence taunts their lack of forethought. They are already composing an appropriate apology for you in their minds so they can properly express their regret the moment you open your eyes. They barely settle on a word, a foot barely in the door, before a weight pulls them into a warm embrace.

“I missed you.”

They did not believe it possible that their guilt could grow, but your whispered declaration only solidified in their minds how terribly they had behaved. “Forgive me, darling,” they whisper, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead, “I could offer an explanation if I thought to, but none would be adequate enough to explain my absence. I apologise for not returning to you sooner. If there is anything I can do—”

“Saying ‘I missed you’ wasn’t a criticism, my love,” you explain gently. “You’re passionate about your work, and I think it’s wonderful.”

“You’re far too good to me.” You notice the faintest flush on their cheeks, the stray hairs that are typically so perfectly in place, and their rising chest, and you realise how quickly they must have rushed home the moment they became aware of the time. They run their thumb softly across your cheek in a tender caress.  “I am impossibly fortunate to have you. If there is any way you would like me to reward your patience, tell me. I will make it so.”

Rain: They were feeling a bit spiteful—a surprise even to themselves. However, the desire for their time to be exclusively yours has become increasingly excessive since entering a relationship with you. It appears that Selby has grown more demanding. Their more reasonable side understands how perceptions influence the situation—Selby isn’t pushing them harder; they wish to spend more and more time with you—but that doesn’t diminish their sour mood in the least.

As soon as the mission concludes, they insist that Selby drives them to your apartment, practically flinging open the door without much consideration for the lateness of the hour. They simply want to see you.

It appears the feeling is mutual, for before their eyes can adjust to the sudden light, your arms are wrapping around their waist, your cheek nuzzling against their chest. “I missed you.”

Three words. That’s all it takes for a bad day to become joyous. That is a power you possess; it’s entirely yours. “I missed you, too,” they whisper, their arms squeezing you tighter. “So much. So, so much.” They release you just enough to gaze into your sleepy face. “But you must be terribly tired. Would you allow me to tuck you in?”

Taj: They felt the weight of the day on their shoulders, and all they wanted was to sleep until midday the following day. As always, they completed their mission with only minor grumblings about the late hour. Their complaints were never directed at Selby, not any longer. Theirs was an unenviable position, and Taj knew that despite heading home to their bed after a job well done, Selby would stay awake for hours yet, writing up a report while the details remained fresh, only to sleep for a couple of hours before getting to work making breakfast for the team while Taj rolled over in bed, refusing to be dragged out until dinner.

Well, that was how they lived before… before you.

Having a spare key to your apartment already seemed a bit absurd, but being welcomed with a tight embrace and a whispered ‘I miss you’ felt like an entirely different novelty. Someone misses them? They have someone who thinks of them when they are away? Someone willing to wait despite the myriad of reasons they give you not to? It’s stupid. Ridiculous. And the only reason they feel their heart beating.

“Hey, Koel,” they whisper in the tone they always adopt when feeling slightly soft and vulnerable, lacing their words with a sharp edge. “You shouldn’t stay up waiting if I’m working late. You’ll fuck up your sleeping habits.”

“You’d do it for me.”

“What makes you think I’d do something like that?” they scoff.

You smile. “You saw the sun rise this morning.”

N: It wasn’t their typical routine. In an ideal world, they wouldn’t spend two minutes outside your company. Not because their heart yearns for you (they are not that pitiful) but because their already waning power withers like a rotting apple after it has fallen from its tree, forgotten on the ground with the sun bearing down on it. You revitalise them in a dependency they despise relying on. This fettered symbiosis turns their stomach… but it has its consolations.  

So, when they return home in the dead of night, they are grateful to be breathing the same air as you once again—though taken aback by the sudden inhalation of your breath as you pull them into an embrace so tight that they fear it might burn you.

“I missed you.”

‘What nonsense!’ The reprimand imperils their tongue, yet they manage to suppress the biting remark before it can take root. Perhaps it isn’t the heat of their touch they should have worried about, but the sting in their words. This has so often been the case. There is power in the coercion, but far too often with you, their instinct is to forsake the charm in favour of chastising your gentleness.

How dare you lower your guard with me? They think. Do you not remember what I am? Why I am still here? Do you think that will change because you dare to love me?

They pull away just enough to run their fingers along your neck and towards your cheeks, cupping your face with the mercy of someone who understands that you have made the wrong choice, yet does not wish to inflict a wound where none need exist.

“Of course, you've missed me, my dear,” they cajole patronisingly, for the alternative is recognising their genuine gratification. “The feeling is entirely mutual, but I wouldn’t want to bolster your ego any further. There's hardly enough space in this tiny hovel for my own.”

They refuse to acknowledge that your ongoing confessions are far beyond what they ever deemed themselves worthy of, for to do so would be to concede that their power is not what they desire. Not any longer.

“Let’s go to bed, and I will demonstrate exactly why you have missed me so.”

Umbra: They hadn’t intended to be away for so long. Recently, you had been kindly encouraging them to take some time apart from you. Initially, they had interpreted it as a disparaging judgment of their character—believing you sought distance because you found them strange, broken, unsettling—but you swiftly reassured them otherwise in the dark of night with dishevelled sheets and honeyed words. No, rather, the distance was meant to encourage them to explore more of the world beyond you.  

Odd, they thought. Why must one be encouraged to leave their happiness behind? Fresh air and sunlight mean little to them compared to the light of your life. They are content to remain your shadow for as long as you shine.

But they did as they were told, your smile providing all the encouragement they needed. They did not venture far. The rooftop opposite your apartment felt like a sufficient distance, although they were uncertain about what an appropriate amount of time away would be. They did not want to disappoint you, so they fidgeted away the hours while keeping a watchful eye on your bedroom window. Just in case of danger, they promised.

When they finally feel brave enough to return home, they are taken aback as you squish them against yourself, leaving them fearful that something terrible has happened during their absence, despite their caution.

“I missed you.”

At first, they thought the words fell from their mouths since they parrot what they so often feel, but then they realise it was you. Their usual despondence at being held disappears in an instant, and their long limbs encompass your form, holding you with a strength they typically dare not evoke.

“Yes,” they mutter, the word choking their breath. “I have all the sun I need right here.”

(Hope you enjoy! But... I do seriously need to learn to rein it in if I'm ever going to finish writing the 40+ asks in my inbox.)

[nahamut]

Omg, I finally finished a new drawing! It was made on Clip, I feel I'm finally being able to abandon Photoshop haha

Umbra Knight, or Flenri, turned kinda into a mysterious character these past years. I like to imagine he probably has a reason for not showing his face very often. And when he does, it is still covered by a shadow somehow.

This was inspired by Jareth's scene of Labyrinth

[midnight-bay-if]

AHHH, this makes me so happy! Such a nice thing to wake up to 😭 it's so beautiful and Umbra's body language is perfect.

Here is a picture of an umbral Umbra from @midnight-bay-if!

I absolutely love, love, love all the characters! I definitely plan to play each of their routes! For this piece I had stumbled upon the song My love is sick by Madds Buckey and I had immediately thought of Umbra! So I had that song playing on repeat the entire time I worked on this piece!

Every time I read about him I just want to give him a great big hug and never let go 🥺🥺🥺

[cconfusedkat]

I may attempt to draw Allure in more serious settings but just know the only person that mask slips IMMEDIATELY down is near Shamura ,, the lambfail and crownfail is Very Telling of Her

[cominfromtheforest]

Being the God of Gods comes with no perks, and you don't even get paid for the shit you go through (most times anyway)

No background slightly better quality versions at the bottom to see all the details! There are multiple oc and filler gods here too and also Zote bc I though it'd be funny ;)

(Based on this image, if you know who made it originally let me know!)

[beantown-boy]

I could be wrong, as I've missed a few Side Quests. But it's wild that Dimension 20's last faggots (no other queer identities) were the two lions from the Gramercy Occult Society.

[silenthill2ost]

super messy, but my friend gave me a Vision.

[rooted-limbo]

Meanwhile, even had been pondering on the past few hours.

So much pain, betrayal and doubt of her own thoughts and beliefs crammed in a shitty lottle package. She could only swallow the bile in her throat and wait... wait til'....

A loud crash spooked her thoughts away, looking absolutely baffled. Even turned towards the noise, walking warily twards it.

"... uh...?"

@shadow-of-scarlet-flame

[shadow-of-scarlet-flame]

WELCOMEWELCOME WELCOME WELCOME!!!!!!!!!! ARE YOU HERE FOR A SHOW? A DANCE? EWEHEEWEHWHEHEHE!!!!! COME! COME INSIDE, INSIDE! I'll give you a show to die for :)))))))

-

Enter: Umbra. She's of void and scarlet flame, after Grimm had to leave hallownest poor Umbra was left in the care of her step parents, who all but forgotten about her- leaving her in the care of the owner of the tower of love, she was primarily raised by the collector though which is... Evident. She's not exactly. Sane. Have fun asking her questions!!! This is apart of the @crackkids-of-hollownest storyline!

Have some spites

[umbralknight1344]

Aether Knight, Awakening of an Angel

Caeles' adult form, when she finally comes to terms with herself.

If you like my art, please reblog!

[scribf1nite]

THE MYSTIC’S GALA

A time for all magic users, avatars, and the likes to come together and celebrate for a party meant to bond them all together. This year it’s held by the up and coming magical girl newbie Umbra, and she’s never hosted a party before let alone one this important.

[midnight-bay-if]

NSFW

How would the ROs react to MC accidentally walking in on them while they’re changing?

(Sorry for the wait on asks everybody. Life has been... interesting.)

S: They have stripped down to their underwear, thumbs tucked into the waistbands, ready to bare all for a quick change before a mission. Nothing seems out of the ordinary... until the familiar sound of the old-fashioned door handle twisting with the usual struggle disrupts the silence, as the mechanism sticks at an odd angle. They sigh, anticipating Rain or Taj bursting in, their manners entirely disregarded. It's a routine they have come to expect, and they have had to set aside certain notions of decorum after working with them.

The self-conscious ideas of propriety seem to belong entirely to humans in their experience.

What they do not anticipate, with their hand half outstretched to still the turning of the handle, is coming face to face with your wide eyes when the door swings open.

A stunned silence hangs in the air... until both of you scramble for a way to salvage this greeting—you by covering your eyes with a hand, and they by hurriedly grabbing any material to cover themselves.

“I’m sorry!” you call, your eyes still firmly covered. “I think Rain just tricked me. They said you were waiting for me and that I should come straight in.”

They exhale sharply. Of course, they did. “It is quite all right; if you could give me a moment, I shall be with you shortly.” All the while ignoring their fluttering pulse and the fact that you are mere feet away from their bare skin. Would you dare look? Do they wish you would? When you don’t immediately leave, they cannot help but push. “Were you hoping for an invitation?”

“Right! Sorry!” The door slams shut behind you, and they already deeply regret your absence.

Rain: They hum a familiar tune of home as they pull off bright items of clothing, the door left ajar. They notice it, their leg half out of their trousers, and begin hopping over to close it properly. However, they only get partway before the door swings open, your voice trailing in soon after.

“Rain, there was something I meant to disc— Rain!”

Your shout startles them, their feet getting tangled in the legs of their trousers as they trip and fall to the ground. “Ouch!” they exclaim, landing elbow first. “What? What is it?” The note of surprise in your voice sends them into a panic.

“Y-You’re not dressed.”

Oh. Right. Yes, S did warn them about this. “Sorry! I forgot to close the door! I didn’t startle you too much?” they ask, slipping their pants back up their legs, feeling no real achievement since their chest remains bare. They finally notice how demurely you stare down at your feet, a hint of shyness that seems to emerge only when you are alone together, and their heart skips a beat. “Be out in a minute?”

You nod, darting out much quicker than you entered, and they smile. “Perhaps leaving the door open wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.”

Taj: They were meant to be alone. Rain informed them that everyone else had already left on their way out the door. It was quiet; there was no reason to doubt this. So, when Taj began shedding their clothes on the way to the bathroom, they thought little of it. The heating had been left on, and the place was sweltering due to the humidity. They leant forward, reaching to turn on the shower when they heard a voice.

“Taj, is that you leaving your clothes all over the floor?”

Your voice.

They swivel their heads towards the door, and there you stand, arms laden with various items of clothing, mouth agape, staring at their bare backside... until your eyes begin to trail of every scar.

“I didn’t know—”

Taj never gives you the chance to explain, slamming the door in your face with a resounding bang. They press their forehead against the wood, breathing harshly, their heart thundering in their chest as all the blood rushes to their… “Fuck.”

“Taj, are you alright?” They hear you through the door, and their breath shudders. Stop it. Stop talking. They need to calm down, and your voice… “I swear I didn’t realise you were, um, naked. Are you angry?”

Angry. It isn’t the first word that comes to mind; it would be easier if they were.

N: They are admiring every detail of their guise in the mirror. “The skin is so smooth,” they whisper, trailing their fingertips over the unblemished surface of their torso. So perfectly immaculate. That isn’t to say they are not also taken with their usual body; all the prongs and bumpy skin feel exquisite when in the throes of passion if you know how to use them, and they know. Well, they have never heard any complaints.

But there’s something about being human that is endlessly fascinating to them. The weightlessness of their head without their horns, the ease with which clothing can be slipped on and torn off without a tail… and the skin. So delicate, like the most exquisite silk. N would be lying if they claimed not to have thought about exploring each and every inch of yours.

As if summoned by fate, the bedroom door swings open, revealing you standing there, mouth agape, taking in the scene. “Now, which one of us is the mind reader, my dear?”

You shake off your surprise and swiftly squeeze your eyes shut. “I’m sorry! I d-didn’t know. I promise!”

“It’s quite all right. You can take a peek if you like.”

“N-No! Thank you!” you squeak, backing out the door, pulling the door with you.

“Are you sure? I certainly don’t mind—”

“Goodbye!”

They sigh, a little wistful. “Oh, well… maybe next time.”

Umbra: They never liked taking their clothes off. Each layer gets peeled back like they are being forced to peel off their own skin, grimacing as if in pain. They at least have the good sense to do it in complete darkness, with curtains shut and mirrors covered by whatever dark material they can get their hands on, so they don’t accidentally catch their reflection in the mirror.

It isn’t the scars or stitches that denote their marred limbs, nor their ghostly paleness that causes them pain, but the fact that, even stripped bare, they feel no colder. All of this is repulsive, and each inch of exposed skin serves as a reminder of the monster that lies within.

Most of their skin is bare when the door handle turns, and in you walk, nonchalant, without fear despite the wretch that they are. It is they who show fear. “MC! I-I’m not… I was getting changed—”

Only now do you realise what you have walked into. “Oh, Umbra! I’m sorry!” You squeeze your eyes shut, and Umbra feels as though they can breathe again. That’s right, MC. Close your eyes. Save your stomach from churning. They anticipate you heaving with disgust or running away as you retch… but you do none of those things. Instead, you turn, lashes fluttering demurely. Not ashamed, but embarrassed. Your fingers flex against your thigh before tugging at the hem of your shirt, as if shy.

You like what you see.

An impossible sensation seizes their chest, a tingling and heat they thought themselves incapable of feeling. They can live with being a monster if they are not monstrous to you.

[nahamut]

Alvhura being silly with Umbra :>

"what are you doing?!" "helping you exercise a bit ;3"

[the-pale-flame]

Do you ever see your family?

I... Couldn't bring myself to face them after what I saw. After I ran away and got lost... I want to see them again, I just.. Need to work up the courage.

[mika-chaos-bean]

TOTALLY making satbk versions of Genesis, Umbra, and Solstice

it will be so awesome... it will be so cool...

IT WILL BE THE MOST INCREDIBLE SONIC THE HEDGEHOG AU I HAVE EVER MADE! THE-

[adylote]

I bought a commission of my UmbraxOperator and omg, sending the references to the artist (the second image so she doesn't struggle with the details) make me realize how bad I love this pixel, especially with the sigma! Makes me feel women's things.

Smoch smoch, my beautiful handsome hubby. I really need to print all your fashionframes and sleep with that shirt so I can fantazie about you embracing me (?)