Mordecai Cosplay Novels & Stories

Before I could pick up my black shirt Mordecai tossed it off the bed. "Was that necessary?" I turned to look at him already dressed in a pair of black joggers and a white shirt that showed off the curves of his body. I gulped, trying not to drool over my mate that was filling out so nicely. All the training was making him pack on muscle. "Incredibly," he snorted. "Now put your arms up." I furrowed my brows, not liking to be treated like a child but obliged. I put my arms up and he tossed on one of my dark colored tank tops before putting his deep purple sweatshirt over it. He put my arms at my side and rubbed his nose all over my hair.

He pointed at the relentless figure and shouted in panic, “This is my Xurraeus Chessboard. How can you...” With a swish, James’ afterimage instantly appeared in front of Mordecai. As he tried to turn and flee, James grabbed him by the hair and yanked him back. “Sir Mordecai, you’ve lost.” Mordecai stumbled and fell into the void, lying there and looking up at the towering James. He was scared out of his wits. This young man’s presence shattered his understanding of Daoism, delivering a soul-crushing blow. With a scream, Mordecai scrambled to his feet. “How did you do it?”

“You couldn’t have seen that coming?” Merlos huffs as we all get to our feet, shaking off the mud and water. Merlos waves her hands returning her dress and hair to their pristine state. “What do you say we do this in style?” With a confident smirk on her face, Morrtemis steps forward as her deep, cocoa skin slowly turns into a violet crystal-like substance. The crystals continue to spread, replacing her hair and clothes until there’s nothing left but walking amethyst.

Then the door opened. Celeste Valentina Morau stepped inside—platinum blonde hair in twin tails, old Lakeside Rams hoodie (blue and gold, faded from years), black leggings, no makeup, no armor. She looked sixteen. Maybe seventeen. But the power radiating off her made the air crackle. The very atmosphere shifted—electric, heavy, like standing under a storm cloud about to break. Nico’s breath caught. He stared. She didn’t look normal. She didn’t feel normal.

Up on the wooden catwalk, overlooking the misery like a bored god, stood Morde. He was dressed in fine, quilted silks that looked absurd against the grime of the mine. He held a silver goblet of wine, the deep red liquid catching the dim light. Beside him stood two strong warriors, their polished armor a direct insult to the rags and mud below.

She mumbled words that could cause the enemies to kneel, burn, and experience tingling pain in their bodies as Emily exerted control over her power over them. Emily’s body was glowing, transforming into a moon goddess, wearing a white dress and a jeweled star on her forehead. “Morsus...” (Pain) “Combustum...” (Burn) “Interficio...” (Kill) Emily was saying those words, and slowly, the grunts and roars of the hunters and rouges were subsiding. Her eyes darted at the King and Queen of Rouges. Her eyes were dangerous and made her shudder.

I wanted to cover them, but Marcel wouldn’t allow it… I believed that it was his own way of showing the claim he was having over me. “So,” she murmured. “You and my son have been… active… it seems.” Heat crept up my neck, but I didn’t look away. I refused to. “I don’t have the makeup to cover it up. I am embarrassed walking around with the marks, but Alpha Marcel seems to enjoy seeing them, and even if I wanted to, I have no way of trying to cover it.” She nodded, and I could see her chewing the inside of her mouth as she clearly debated on how to respond to what I just said.

But the the colors beside black are tastefully mixed into the black, so that the natural black colors don't overpower the added hues. Besides that though, Machiv still has the school uniform, broken down by him with the sleeves rolled up and the tie missing, and the black gloves covering his arms of course. Keito on the other hand, seems to have been inspired by the Halloween spirit though, since he's got some colorful bandages under his usual black mask, and they give color to him that's not always present. "Hi," says Machiv, sitting down at the lunch table, the colorful points in his hair moving as he does, "very festive meals."

These two are such a hoot. The party is fun, but instead of Aphrodite and Orion, Mikhail and I are dressed as Ares and Persephone. As always, he’s wearing black. A black shirt, tank top, leather jeans, and boots. I’m wearing a white off-the-shoulder goddess gown with high heel sandals. Azazel is, indeed, Apollo. His golden costume is striking on him. But of course, Azazel would go all out and dress the part like he was born into it.

Stacey exclaimed. “Don’t tell me you're wearing that to the mall. You look like a fairy's vomit” “The mall!?” May exclaimed, in utter surprise. “Duh!! Mia! You’ve successfully ruined her surprise. And don’t tell her she looks like vomit. Look at yourself, dressed in white and black like a mortician." “ A Mor… excuse me, do morticians wear jewellery?…” “Guys!! guys!!” May interrupted. “What will I wear?” she asked nervously.