someone teach me to coloring please

2

Based on a post that I can’t seem to find by @incorectspnquotes.

(The book Sam is reading has the peculiar name of “Stuff”, only in Aramaic.)

A Blue Prince To Own, Chapter 4

“Tell me, my Blue Prince, about your favorite Earth cuisines.”

I smack my lips and rest my hands behind my head. “Well, that’s a hard question because I love eating. Pizza, for starters, ice cream, definitely and mama Mcclain’s garlic knots.“ God, I miss home so much. If I somehow am allowed an out to defending the universe, whether I’m replaced or I’m no longer needed, I doubt I could go back to the Garrison. I’d just want to go back to my family. The effort of testing into such a prestigious academy loses its appeal when you’re actually faced with the possibility of never seeing your family again. It’s just… awful.

Lotor, upon my request, has pulled his hair into pigtails and at first I couldn’t stop laughing (my stomach cramped up and I slipped off my chair), but now that we’re talking, I think it looks kind of cute. With such a nice structured face, it’s hard to look ridiculous even with a little girls hairstyle. His eyes strongly remind me of Keith’s, but more slanted and narrow. His cheekbones could probably cut glass and you bet your ass I’ll demand we use his jawline to cut our wedding cake.

It feels so much lighter when I’m talking to him versus me talking to the people on the ship. I have so many things to hide when I’m talking to them, but with Lotor, there doesn’t have to be any secrets, except for my endeavors with Keith, which we haven’t done since we had that awkward talk. I can tell him of my family for hours and he’ll never grow bored of me talking and it feels so good to be lathered with attention and affection, even if we don’t even know each other in real life. Lotor… he says his new quest to make peace could use someone like me. He says I should come with him, and holy shit do I so desperately want to. I’m going to be replaced anyway, so what better way to waste my time than with a Prince who adores me, helping him restore the universe?

“Ice… cream?” He tilts his head cutely, curiously and my heart gives a pitiful series of fast beats. “Is it cold, like ice?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty cold, but not too cold to eat. It comes in a bunch of different flavors and if you eat it too fast, your brain freezes.” Lotor’s expression morphs to that of horror and I quickly back petal. “No, no, not like, actually freeze, it just gives you a headache for a minute and humans call it a brain freeze.”

“Fascinating!” He looks completely awestruck. It’s so sweet. “Rest assured, replications of your ice cream will be made, as well as with your other earth cuisines, and you will be fed well when you are mine, my Blue Prince!”

He’s always telling me how much he’ll spoil me once he makes me his, which he’s systematically doing. I’ve never been more pliant with another. And Blue claims I’ve never been more emotional dependent on anyone as well. He’s making it all sound like a paradise. Maybe he’s making me his loyal victim, but when I feel this light, I really don’t care if he’s feeding me lies built off of bad intentions. “I can’t wait. Hunk… he’s tried to turn the ship’s mediocre ingredients into something edible, but lately I’ve just been getting tasteless food goo. It sucks.”

“My love, once you are in my grasps, you will never feast on tasteless goo again! Only the best for my beloved Blue Prince. The best clothes, the finest place to rest right beside me, the best treatment from my guards and servants. Anyone who offers you less shall be imprisoned, my love!”

That’s awful, that’s malicious and cruel to imprison someone for offering me something that isn’t up to my standards. But, my head is so sick, the thought is pulling my mouth into a wide smile and I laugh and clap my hands excitedly. Why does that make me happy? Maybe it’s just his dedication, or his sparkling eyes, or the way he speaks so fondly about me, praising me so confidently, worshipping me. It feels so good to be WORSHIPPED. I can’t help it. I’ve spent most of my life feeling second best, seventh wheel, not good enough, useless, but he’s offering me everything I’ve ever wanted and I’m happy hearing it all, being listened to, being treated right. He wants me. And that’s what I’ve always wanted.

“I can’t wait to be by your side, Princey!” Maybe he’s not the only one who is delirious. Maybe it’s me too because I’m living in the same illusion he is and I’m fucking loving it. “I can’t wait to be owned by you, to be happy like this all the time, to not cry so much. To live in that,” Prison, Blue tells me, It will be a prison, no matter how much he convinces you it is your choice to leave or not, it will be a prison, don’t succumb, please, my Paladin, “in that paradise, Lotor.”

“A paradise, just for you and I.” He claims so lovingly, looking even more consumed by the thought of eternal happiness with each other than I am. “A paradise, where no one will make you feel alone, worthless, or unwanted again.”

My helmet speaks up. “Paladins! Please, report to the control room, as there is dickery afoot!” I can vaguely hear someone chuckling in the background and have to assume Matt and Pidge are teaching Coran god awful, but hilarious, terms like ‘dickery’.

All at once, the color along with the joy, drains from me. I’ve been feeling worse and worse nowadays. Talking to him is the only release I find in life. Seeing his smiling, sharp mouth forming kind words. I’m tired of cold lips undermining me so innocently. The facade is harder than ever to keep up, of stability. “I… gotta go, Princey. But, I’m really down for just blowing this popsicle stand. I’m really, really done being an extra. A stand in.”

He looks confused. I should probably start teaching him some Earth terms too, as much as I love his impeccable English, it’d be nice to work some slang and metaphors into his vernacular. “I’m going to take an escape pod and leave.” He lights up at once and says his fair wells before the connection times out.

I pull on my jacket and take my sweet time getting to the control room. As much as I love going on missions, I feel like no one even wants me on them. None of our missions have gone as smoothly as the one I wasn’t on, according to Shiro, not that he knows I heard him say that to Allura. Why wouldn’t they want to replace me? If everything’s so much better when I’m oblivious and sad at the castle. What should they care if I’m living happily ever after, not piloting Blue? Though, I have to admit, I’m going to miss her and I feel bad. She keeps saying that I’m her pilot, that I cannot abandon being a Paladin, but I’m done. I can’t keep living with people who I’m pretty sure hate my guts. Even she can sense that I’m so much happier when I’m with Prince Lotor.

She doesn’t deserve feeling my sadness all the time and worrying over a cargo pilot that doesn’t deserve her. In a way, she’ll be better off too, even if she doesn’t realize that yet. Everyone else is already in the control room when I arrive and I struggle to crack a smile.

“Lance, what the hell? Do you have weights attached to your ankles or are your clown feet just getting harder to pick up?” Keith bites as soon as I plop down at my station.

“I don’t know Keith, you look like you just sat down. Your fat head getting harder to keep up? Or are the planets orbiting around it making it harder to see?” I shoot back through a sigh, forcing myself to grin cockily. He’s probably just pent up because we haven’t been fucking. I’ll admit, I’m a little frustrated too.

Shiro lets out a groan. “Are you guys serious? As soon as you’re in the same room, you have to argue. Keith, chill out. Lance, you only make it worse when you respond. We talked about this.”

I don’t know why, but I feel like talking back and I’m an impulsive guy with little self control. I’ll be out of here soon anyway, so what’s the point in holding back. “Okay, next time I’ll just let Keith treat me like a bitch because he’s your favorite. Got it.”

Hunk chokes and Pidge lets out a bark of laughter. Matt shoves them in the back of the head with reprimand. Why is he even here? Slav doesn’t get to join when we discuss missions. They’re probably preparing him for the position of the Blue Paladin. Whatever. He can fucking have it.

“I don’t have favorites, Lance.” Shiro responds, sitting up straighter and catching my gaze. I don’t look away. He doesn’t even see his own bias? This is too much. “I’m simply pointing out that you were both at fault. Do you have a problem with how I lead this team?”

I chuckle bitterly and shake my head slowly, wiping my palms on my pants. “No, you’re a fine leader, except you have to treat Keith like the princess he is. If I didn’t know any better, I’d be thoroughly convinced you two were fucking. And we both know that if Keith wants a fight, he pushes and pushes and pushes until he gets one, so there isn’t such thing as ‘don’t respond’. If I don’t respond to him being a dick, you know what’ll happen, Mr. Great Leader? I have to shut up while he acts superior.”

“Lance, I don’t - ”

I have no clue what’s coming over me, maybe my ego’s been overfed and the confidence from being wanted is all consuming, but I cut off whatever he was about to say. “Keith, sorry if your head is so fucking huge that your ears are too small for it, but no one was talking to you, especially not me. Though, the conversation will shift to you eventually, Daddy will always cater to his princess before he listens to anyone else, after all.”

They’re both bright red, maybe will embarrassment, but probably with anger and I’m proud, too proud, this isn’t me, but I’m not sad somehow. Hunk looks like he might pass out and Keith, oh fucking Keith, looks like he’s about to open his big mouth, but Allura interrupts just in time.

“Paladins, keep your personal matters to yourselves. There is a mission to attend to. This… disgusting amount of insubordination and disrespect will be dealt with after the mission. For now, clear your minds of it and focus on the task at hand.”

Shiro and Keith both numbly nod, though the latter sends me a glare that might’ve made me cry if it didn’t suddenly feel so good being so horrible. I can’t help but stretch my lips into a wide, curling grin as the mission proceeds. I feel lighter, having screwed into their heads like that. I’ll be gone soon anyway, so what else can I say?

Though, it occurs to me now that I just might get my skinny neck wrung once the mission has ended. I call it the Lotor effect. Knowing he is out there, wanting me, is making me fearless. The aching sadness is draining. Instead I feel…

Absolutely fucking evil.

Chapter 5: https://langst-mccpain.tumblr.com/post/163355067940/a-blue-prince-to-own-chapter-5

Black Feathers

Cross-posted on Archive of Our Own under ReverberatingEchoes 

For @orangescribbles, may we survive till the end of the semester my friend ahahahuhuhu


Summary: In which Sleepy Ash is a Fallen Angel who’s lived in the human realm for centuries already, and Mahiru Shirota is the peculiar human that befriends him. Sleepy Ash’s heart hasn’t been this peaceful in a very long time.  

or,


a Fallen Angel! AU feat. KuroMahi.



Brother, no! You mustn’t do this!


Sleepy Ash, please, you must reconsider!


I’ll do it. I’ve made up my mind already.


(Understand that that person cannot be left alive. It’s too dangerous!)


What you did was unforgivable! How could you! Wasn’t he important to you too, Sleepy Ash?!


It was necessary. It was necessary. It was necessary!


(Please, please understand that it was necessary-)


What the Council has decided is final. This is the price of your sin, Sleepy Ash. We have no choice-


It was for the best.


(It was for the best. It was for the best!)


Was it really for the best? Are you still telling yourself that, Sleepy Ash?


Don’t you remember how much he cared about you and your siblings? Don’t you remember, Sleepy Ash?


He’s not the same person, not anymore.


(I-)


(I wasn’t wrong! I-)


(Someone please, please, tell me I wasn’t wrong-)



The Kingdom of Heaven is cruel with punishments, Sleepy Ash learns.


Sleepy Ash is taken from his home and dragged off, visible to all of the other Angels. He hears the whispers of the Seraphims as he passes by.  


A purge, someone whispers, how shameful.


That’s Sleepy Ash, is it not? He killed-


How vile! Criminal. He deserves to be punished!


Sleepy Ash is blindfolded, hands tied behind his back as he is led to his punishment site.


All the while, he thinks of his siblings at home and wishes that he could apologize. He thinks of their Senior Angel and how kind he was when Sleepy Ash and his siblings were mere fledglings.


He thinks of the troublesome, but happy times he and his siblings had with their Senior Angel.


He thinks of their Senior Angel’s slow descent to madness, of his ambitions to create his own kingdom, not unlike Lucifer’s own.


(Sleepy Ash thinks of this, and he thinks of the blood on his hands and the numbness of his heart.)   



Please, someone tell me what I did wasn’t wrong, Sleepy Ash thinks during his punishment, in the midst of the excruciating pain that came with his wings changing color.


(Like being burned alive. Like being stabbed a thousand times. Like being ripped apart.)


Brought to his knees, Sleepy Ash’s screams fall on deaf ears and he wants to die die die-


(Pain. Pain pain pain Stop STOP STOP IT HURTS STOP STOP STOP SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE STOP-)


The members of the Council, the Archangels, had only watched him dispassionately as the last of his feathers were kissed with darkness and Sleepy Ash had fallen unconscious.



Sleepy Ash dreams of a past long lost and abandoned.


A kind smile.


“Sleepy Ash, was it? I’ll teach you everything you have to know about being a Pro Angel like me!”


Sleepy Ash, but here he is much younger, much more innocent. “That sounds troublesome…I don’t want to,” Sleepy Ash responds.


The Senior Angel pouts at him and flails his arms. Sleepy Ash immediately decides he’s too energetic for his liking.


“Where’s your motivation as a newly hatched angel? You need to set an example for your other siblings!’’


Loud. He’s too loud. Sleepy Ash shrugs and prepares to glide over his home. “I’ll be retiring now. Good bye.” He positions himself and breezes pass the older angel who is stumped by how fast he flies away.


(He’s too earnest, Sleepy Ash thinks, but he’s not a bad person.)


“Wait, come back! I’m assigned to you and your siblings, Sleepy Ash don’t ignore meee!”


.


A strained smile.


“Have you ever thought about it, Sleepy Ash, why we Angels blindly follow the Will of our Creator?”


Lawless is napping on their Senior’s lap, nestled and relaxed as Sleepy Ash considers his strange question. All of Love on the other hand sleeps peacefully beside Sleepy Ash, snoring lightly.


“We are his creations,” Sleepy Ash murmurs dutifully, carefully adjusting All of Love’s position on his shoulder, “His Will is our Will.”


The Senior Angel runs delicate fingers over Lawless’ hair. “I think that it’s unfair,” He confesses, “Why is our freedom restricted like this? Why can’t we choose for ourselves, when the humans that He created are free to act however they wish?”


For this, Sleepy Ash has no response. They are Angels and they are His Creations and to speak like this would be considered a crime.


But the Senior Angel says nothing more and only quietly stares at the distance.


.


A manic smile.


“I’ll stage a rebellion, Sleepy Ash, and when that time comes, I will liberate all of you from His rule…”


Sleepy Ash stares up at him in horror, noting with a sickening realization that their Senior Angel is wingless.


(He had exchanged his wings for the power of Lucifer.)


“I’ll free you all from this life, I will destroy our Creator with my own hands, and build my own empire. Sounds nice, don’t you think?”


“Don’t do this,” Sleepy Ash begs quietly, summoning his weapon into his hands, “Don’t do this, please.”


All Sleepy Ash gets in response is mad, mad laughter.


.


A bloodied smile.


“Sleepy Ash…why do you look like you’re about to cry?’’


Sleepy Ash shakes and shakes. His hands are drenched in blood and so are his robes and everything is red red red -


His opponent hacks and coughs. Glassy eyes stare up at him.


“I’m sorry…Sleepy Ash…I couldn’t free you guys after all… I wasn’t strong enough…”


And when the Senior Angel closes his eyes forever, all that Sleepy Ash can hear are his own screams.


(Sleepy Ash dreams and dreams and he almost wishes that everything that happened had only been a very bad dream.)



When Sleepy Ash regains consciousness, he is alone.


His wings are curled behind him and he struggles to sit up, only to find himself dizzy and weak. His back is painful and his wings feel like they’re on fire.


Where am I?


The ground is cold and wet and Sleepy Ash shakes his head, trying to focus.


This isn’t the Garden of Eden. Certainly, the Garden of Eden has never looked like a decrepit forest, and never has Sleepy Ash seen the Sky so far from him.


(Far and out of reach. Never meant for the likes of him.)


He coughs and coughs as he tries to unfurl his wings. The moment his eyes catch sight of the black feathers,


(Fallen.)


Everything comes rushing back to him.


Cast out of the Garden of Eden with the scent of blood on his hands and the weight of his shame blatant and mocking, Sleepy Ash screams and screams and screams until his throat is raw and he can no longer make a sound.


(Fallen. He is a Fallen Angel.)


(Dimly, he wonders if he can hear the phantom chuckle of the Senior Angel he had killed.)



Exiled from the Kingdom of Heaven, far too tainted to remain an Angel, yet lacking the impurity to enter the Realm of Hell, Sleepy Ash finds himself wandering through Earth, haunted by the past and unable to step towards a probable future.


It’s been several centuries since then. Perhaps even millenniums, but Sleepy Ash has long since lost count.


A sentence worse than death.


For it is but fools who yearn to live in the world forever.



The first few centuries in the human realm leave much to be desired for Sleepy Ash.


Humans know a Fallen Angel when they see one, and do not hesitate in reminding him of that fact.


Stay back, monster!

How vile! How dare you bring such sin here…!


Murderer! Murderer!

Such a disgusting creature.


And so to avoid troublesome situations, Sleepy Ash has decided to live in seclusion.


It’s infinitely easier that way, to avoid humans and to repent for his mistakes of the past.


(He lives in solitude and Sleepy Ash thinks that it’s only a little bit lonely.)



Sleepy Ash doesn’t know how it happens, but it happens.


It happens when he’s taking an afternoon nap under the shade of one of the largest trees in the heart of the forest, somewhere far away from human settlements when-


“An angel?”


Sleepy Ash jolts awake and finds a rather young human staring at him with his lips slightly parted.


Sleepy Ash knows there’s no more point in trying to hide his wings and resigns himself to the inevitable. With the weight of his shame, the accursed black wings furled behind him, Sleepy Ash turns his face to the side, avoiding the eyes of the person in front of him.


He sits quietly, anxiously waiting for the harsh comment that he was sure would follow after seeing the color of his wings.


Filthy.


Graceless.


Unworthy.

Fallen.

He’d heard it so often in the first few centuries that he’s lived in the realm of the humans.


(Heard it enough times to make Sleepy Ash thinks that that’s all he ever was, a Fallen Angel, neither fitting here nor there.)


But it never comes.


Instead, what he hears stuns him because not once has anyone ever called them-


“Beautiful,” the younger boy breathes out in awe. His eyes are large and round and carry the most beautiful shade of brown that he’s ever seen.  


Beautiful, the human boy says. He had called Sleepy Ash’s sin beautiful.


The Fallen Angel stares at him, unable to say anything. The younger boy grins at him with such an open expression and a hand extended in a greeting.


(And in that moment, Sleepy Ash thinks that the ice in his heart has begun to thaw.)



“Kuro, I’m here today, too!”


For the first time in a very long while, Sleepy Ash, now Kuro courtesy of Mahiru, looks forward to spending time with someone other than the silence of the forest.


“My name is Mahiru Shirota!” The brown-eyed boy introduces himself cheerfully.


Sleepy Ash, still in a state of shock, only gazes at the boy in silence. A lot of questions are running in his mind, none of which he can sort out as of the moment.


The boy in front of him doesn’t lose his smile, as he continues to ask,


“What’s your name?”


Sleepy Ash doesn’t know how to answer and a part of him feels like he has forgotten how to answer, how to speak in basic conversations after his seclusion.


(Answer him. Answer him.)


“Ah, well, if you don’t wanna tell me, would it bother you if I call you Kuro?”


Kuro. The name rolls easily off of the boy’s tongue and it echoes pleasantly in his ears. Sleepy Ash’s eyes grow soft and his heart grows lighter.


He nods.


(Sleepy Ash likes the name very much, and every time Mahiru refers to him by that name, it feels as though Sleepy Ash has been given a second life, a second chance).



Mahiru is perhaps the oddest human Kuro has met.


(And Kuro has met a lot of humans in his first few centuries in the human realm, none of which he can remember fondly.)


Mahiru is perhaps the oddest human Kuro has ever met because Mahiru never mentions anything about his wings. He is content spending time with Kuro and brings him home-cooked meals every time he comes over.


(Kuro doesn’t tell him that his kind has no need to eat the same way humans do, but he accepts the food Mahiru makes because Mahiru always looks happy when Kuro eats the meals he makes and wishes not for the first time that he could taste the flavors mixed into the hearty meal.


But Kuro tastes the warmth and the effort Mahiru has put into it, and for him, that is enough.)


Kuro doesn’t know if the reason for the lack of attention towards his wings is because Mahiru isn’t aware of the stigma of the color, or if he chooses to ignore it, or -


Why aren’t you turning me away like the rest?


-and he tells Mahiru as much.


Mahiru looks at him thoughtfully and lets the information sink in. Kuro absentmindedly ruffles his feathers, trying to keep his anxiety hidden.


Why have you stayed, when the rest have all decided to leave?


Is it because you can’t see the monster I am?


One of Kuro’s feathers fall off and Mahiru follows it with his eyes. Smiling, he goes over and picks it up.


“You’re beautiful and wonderful, and you can never make me think otherwise,” Mahiru declares, tenderly pressing his lips against the black feather.


It’s a very intimate gesture and Kuro feels himself flush in spite of himself.


“Kuro, you’re beautiful,” Mahiru repeats, as easily as he showers Kuro with kindness and selfless affection.


And Kuro-


Kuro furls his right wing over his cheek, if only to hide the blush on his face from Mahiru.



“Doesn’t it ever get lonely?”


His thoughts swirl with memories of solitude in the heart of the forest, where the most company he can keep are the wild animals and the sound of rain from time to time.


It gets lonely, sometimes.


It isn’t until Kuro sees Mahiru gazing at him with an almost crestfallen expression that he realizes that he answered out loud.


(It isn’t until Kuro sees Mahiru gazing at him with an almost crestfallen expression that he realizes that he answered honestly.)


Mahiru stands up, then, startling Kuro slightly.


He gazes at Kuro with determination in his eyes. “You won’t be lonely anymore!” Mahiru declares, “I won’t let you be!”


And spoken with such conviction, it makes Kuro want to believe his words.



While Mahiru never remarks about his wings (black, fallen, monster), Kuro finds him staring at it with open curiosity more often than not.


(It’s understandable, Kuro thinks, that Mahiru is curious about his origins. Angels are peculiar beings, and well, Fallen Angels are even more so.)


“If you ask me about them,” Kuro says one cloudy day, watching Mahiru roll out a soft blanket for them to sit on, “I would tell you.”


Mahiru pauses from his actions, eyebrows raised. “About what?” He asks. Kuro unfurls his wings and motions over to them.


“About these.”


(If Mahiru asked him about his wings, Kuro resolved that he would tell him. Kuro would never deny Mahiru anything.)


To Kuro’s surprise, Mahiru shakes his head.


“I won’t ask, Kuro,” Mahiru tells him with a serene smile, “I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me yourself.”


Kuro opens his mouth to say something but Mahiru walks over to him and pats his head, gentle as his fingers tangle in his hair.


“Only then, Kuro.”



Mahiru’s fingers are soft when they touch his wings.


(Gentle, always gentle. Kuro doesn’t think he’s ever known true gentleness until he met Mahiru.)


Touch them, Kuro had offered and Mahiru had only acquiesced because Kuro took his hand and brushed them over his wings.


“Soft,” Mahiru whispers, “Like doves’ wings.”


There’s something almost reverent in the way Mahiru traces his fingers over his wings and Kuro sits motionless as he allows Mahiru to satiate his curiosity in the only way Mahiru will accept.  


I won’t ask, Kuro.


I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me yourself.


And Kuro is so tired, so tired of keeping it to himself.


“It was a punishment,” Kuro begins and he feels Mahiru still for a moment. Kuro sucks in a breath and continues.


“For ending the existence of someone dear to us.”


Mahiru doesn’t say anything and Kuro thinks that he’s disappointed Mahiru, maybe disgusted him even, but Mahiru resumes moving his fingers with tenderness.


The words spill out from Kuro’s lips as he recounts everything that’s happened to Mahiru, who only continues to brush his wings as Kuro speaks.


(Millennium’s worth of memories and regrets are released and Mahiru-)


(Mahiru hasn’t said a word and when Kuro finishes, he finds himself gazing up at Mahiru.)


Mahiru, with the light of the setting sun behind him, Mahiru, who has tears running freely down his cheeks, who buries his head in Kuro’s shoulder as he embraces him tightly, who feels so incredibly warm and real as Kuro embraces him back.



Ever since then, Mahiru’s taken to running his fingers over Kuro’s wings, always delicate and reverent with the action.


Ever since then, to return the favor, Kuro’s taken to kissing Mahiru’s open palms each time he arrives and before he leaves to return to his home.

(And while neither of them openly say it out loud, their actions have always spoken so much louder than their words.)


“Take care in going back,” Kuro will say, when the sun is close to setting.


“See you again tomorrow, Kuro!” Mahiru will respond, and Kuro will kiss his open palms before he leaves to make his way back to his house.


(They repeat this cycle, and with every passing day, Kuro finds it harder and harder to part with Mahiru, and Mahiru finds it harder and harder to leave Kuro.)


(One day, Mahiru asks Kuro to live with him. Kuro doesn’t give a verbal response, but he buries his face on Mahiru’s shoulder as Mahiru chuckles fondly. He understands what Kuro wants to say.)  



On a particularly cold night, both of them are on the veranda, with Mahiru sitting in between Kuro’s knees, his back leaning onto Kuro’s chest.


Kuro breathes out, arms wrapped loosely around Mahiru’s waist. Both of them sit together in relative silence until Kuro breaks it with a soft, “I never understood it, back when I first met you.”


When Mahiru makes a questioning hum, Kuro takes it as a sign to continue, “You called me beautiful then, when you first saw me, even with my black wings.”


You call me beautiful even now, I don’t understand it sometimes, is what Kuro doesn’t say. Mahiru hears what he doesn’t voice out anyway.


“You’re beautiful, Kuro, back then and even now,” Mahiru murmurs, enveloped in Kuro’s arms, “You can never make me think otherwise.”


(And oh, how easy it is for Mahiru to say such kind words, how easy it is for Mahiru to calm Kuro’s heart, then and even now.)


“It’s you that’s beautiful, Mahiru,” Kuro intones, letting the wind carry his voice, “Dazzlingly beautiful, sometimes I’m not sure you’re real.”


Mahiru slowly untangles himself from his embrace and gazes at Kuro with kind eyes, pressing his forehead against his. He leads Kuro’s palm to his cheek and chuckles, fond. The warmth Mahiru radiates is undeniable and Kuro revels in it.


He feels so strongly for this young man, so strongly and it’s been centuries since his fall, but it is only with Mahiru that the demons in his heart quiet themselves until they recede into the periphery of his consciousness. It is only with Mahiru that the demons in his heart quiet themselves, enough for Kuro to think that perhaps someday, he will be able to forgive himself for what he has done and the demons will forever stay quiet as well.  


“I’m real, Kuro,” Mahiru says, soft and sweet, “And I’m right here with you.”


Kuro’s tears fall before he can stop them, and he presses a delicate kiss onto Mahiru’s awaiting lips.


End.


Notes:

1. This is an AU. I took way too many liberties with the ideas of Angels and Fallen Angels. Some parts I left vague so everyone can interpret it however they would like. I just really wanted Kuro with black wings and Mahiru who loves him a lot and Kuro who loves Mahiru a lot too. 


2. I love KuroMahi.


3. I hope you enjoyed!

nova does blogrates

yo in honor of 2.5k i’m going to be doing blogrates! (i just hope i dont feel too guilty agh) 

 - must be following the lamest person ever
- must reblog this post 
- tell me about someone you love!! something good that happened to you recently!! 

template: 

 url: don’t get it | nice | that’s so good what | how ?? did you even get that ?? 

icon: dunno who/what it is | pretty | that’s,,, beautiful | punch me in the face that’s gorgeous

theme: default | pretty | aesthetic | teach me please omg 

 mobile theme: too bright | good | beautiful | what colors did u use hmu 

posts: not my type | v nice | i ??? love ??? | gotta reblog them all wow

am i following?: no ’m sorryy :(( | aa just did ! | yes, of course | if i’m ever not following you assume i’m dead

comment:

if you don’t want these on ur dash, blacklist nova does blogrates

soul-of-glass  asked:

Every time I see your URL in my feed I imagine Acnalogia in tightish bright rainbow colored boxers with kittens on them. Why? I'll never know.

I have no idea either

and don’t you dare ask me why I drew this

anonymous asked:

you're one of my favorite gifmakers on this site and i've never seen you make anything ugly, all your gifs look hq and the coloring is great and rather than someone teaching you i think you could make a always tutorial or something :) please don't get discouraged :)

thank you, sweetie~~~ i just lost my temper ;x tbh i’m like ken, cute most of the time…BUT WHEN I GET MAD I WANT TO BREAK THINGS (ง •̀_•́)ง