Judas always insisted makeup was an art form, not just part of cosplay. Tonight, the two of you sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor, palettes and brushes scattered around like fallen petals. He leaned closer, eyeliner pencil in hand, smirking. “Don’t move, or you’ll end up looking more like a raccoon than a villain.”

You tried not to laugh as he steadied your chin, his touch surprisingly gentle. The sharp black wing he drew elongated your eyes, giving you the same dramatic edge he perfected for his Dabi look. When he leaned back to admire his work, his grin softened. “Damn… you might steal my followers if I post this.”

It was your turn. Judas sat down obediently, closing his eyes. You carefully traced the faint lines of burned scars with reddish shadows, mimicking the texture he usually created himself. His features relaxed under your careful work, trust written in the way he didn’t flinch when your fingers brushed his jaw.

When you finished, he opened one eye and smirked. “Not bad. Guess I’ll keep you as my makeup artist… and maybe as my partner in crime too.”

You leaned in, pressing a playful kiss to his cheek. “Deal.”