the petite angel was wondering the hallways of the luxurious kingdom of god, watching as angels flew about to prepare everything for the upcoming pitchmas cheer, seeing the kingdom light up in colorful fashion with decorations a plenty filling the walls up. everyone was excited for this time of year, the blue angel herself saw no joy in the celebration as it felt like a distraction from life’s troubles, a pitiful attempt to make things seem less bland and horrid. how could any celebrate pitchmas? celebrate at the feet of god? that left an awful taste in her mouth. and yet here she was standing below a mistletoe with the red angel with cheeks redder then the streaks in lasafam’s hair.

“ i... suppose it is tradition in which i must...abide... ”

send me   ‘ mistletoe ’ for my muse’s response to being underneath mistletoe with your muse.   specify whether it’s accidental or on purpose.

Send “Is this you?” for my muses reaction to your muse finding a picture of them when they were younger

“hmm?” seeing the old picture a twinge of pain floods the devils old heart

a young child sat on what seemed to be clouds smile large and true he posed with a pure white feathered scarf, someone else was there too, but they had their back facing the camera, hands in the midsts of being drawn back, as if they had just helped the young boy put on the scarf