Magic

Collection of images and memes for anyone who doesn’t know what to draw

You and me at the beginning of the world.

KURO WEEK - DAY 4: Betrayal

“I couldn’t do it, you know…”

The Galra-hybrid looked at the glowing star maps and swirling galaxies surrounding them. One of his clawed metal fingers absently brushed against one of the floating holograms, that filled the darkened room. Too absently for Lance’s liking.

“Do what?”

“I couldn’t fight them without mercy, like he did.

I couldn’t even bring myself to beat someone up, without feeling guilty afterwards.”

A huff of laughter escaped Kuro. A humorless, dry little sound, that sent chills down the Blue Paladin’s spine.

“What a pathetic Champion I would’ve been… Bet that wasn’t what they had in mind when they created me.”

“Uh… Kuro? You do realize, that having a conscience is a good thing, right?”

“I know, I know”, Kuro sighed. “But back then everything was… different. In reverse. Upside down. Back then, being good was a weakess.”

Without realizing it, he’d leaned closer to Lance, seeking out the comfort of another body’s warmth. He could feel it radiate through layers of clothes, mingling with his own warmth. God, back then, during his time with the Druids, he hadn’t had much contact to others… At least not the well-meant kind of contact. And he hadn’t known he’d missed it, until he had his first taste of a hug.

Taking a deep breath, he cherished the feeling of the other man’s side against his own, before he continued: “And I never knew why I was so weak…

I never knew why I was this way, when the man I was copied from, seemed so cruel.

… Until I saw him in person. Right after Zarkon was defeated and Shiro was captured again. I saw him. I saw Shiro – the Champion.”

A warm, supporting hand crept up his back, stroking carefully over the soft, thin fabric of his jumpsuit. No doubt feeling the criss-crossing lines littering the skin underneath.

“And suddenly I knew what drove him to stay alive in the arena.

Suddenly I realized, that all his cruelty and blood-thirst were nothing but a facade. A show to hide the softness and fragility of his all too human heart.

I realized, that my own softness and caring, my own inability to be the monster they wanted as their Champion, all those ‘weak’ emotions I thought were my own wrong-doing-… I-… I realized they actually came from him.

That same stupidly good, human heart beats inside my chest.

He’s always been like this, so how could I be anything else?”

Kuro felt hot tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry, but he couldn’t control himself any longer. Too many things had happened. And finally, finally, someone listened. Finally someone cared.

“He was the reason I was this way… Everything I ever believed to be true… was a lie… The Champion was a lie.

and I’ve never felt more betrayed in my whole life.”

Okay so… Kuro has a sad? But this time he isn’t alone. :3 I’m so sorry I’m writing all this sad stuff, but trust me, it’s getting better with every day of the @kuroweek

VR/college AU part 16!

hanging out & pining 😌

first | < part 15-2 | part 17 >

Hey losers

your childhood is gay, and there’s nothing you can do about it!

or, a celebration of some children’s characters we love to relate to (even if it makes cishets mad). hope you all had a happy pride month 🌈

MindControl

Just got home not too long ago, but just skating in with Day #6′s theme based upon the ever lovely and talented @theprojectava  ‘s Kuro story. I hope to have the next one out soonish, though late for the day no less. 

It’s otherworldly. This electric pulse of a presence that ghosts along the periphery of his mind. Small at first, it builds and it builds until it’s not just an inconsistent buzzing at the back of his skull but a defined being.

Another mind spilling into his, and for a moment, Kuro thinks he has finally lost. This is the crack the Druids put inside of him, and instead of things spilling out, they’re tumbling in, trying to claim whatever they can of him. Impulse tells him to fight it.

Resist. Resist. Resist.

He’s isn’t broken yet.

Something else whispers to him of patience. It tells him this is not the same black that the Druids try to infuse him with. Neither callous nor cold, it offers a warmth, something innate to its very being. It flickers white then red, then black marbles throughout both hues until it’s burning within the back of his mind.

Persistent.

It wants something of him, something he thinks he can give and willingly at that. So, Kuro reaches out to it. He sets his hands upon that glowing orb, feels the heat beneath his fingertips, making his blood sing with life. It tells him he is his own entity, that the heart within his chest is his own and that it aches with concern for the one it had been modeled after.

The ones calling out to him ache just as much.

No.

More.

The feelings that steep into his bloodstream carry a desperation far deeper than anything Kuro has ever known for the man called Takashi. It’s a desperation born of intimacy, of hearts bound more closely to Shiro’s than Kuro could have ever claimed, and somehow, it’s that very thought that brings him to inviting them inside of all that he is. Because Kuro wants to know that too, wants to know what could bring someone - or someones - to the brink of hell itself for a man who had been built upon a lie.

Kuro wants to know what makes someone want to thread their lives together with another being so much they would risk everything for him.

So, he lets him in, the one whose voice called out the loudest inside of his mind. He gives him control, and he watches as Shiro stirs in response, called back from the remorseless depths of his own mind. And it sparks a quiet curiosity within himself, to see how someone can respond to a simple change, how someone can know the difference from one being to another just because of the energy they give off.

As if there’s a frequency inside of every heart, and Kuro’s has now magically aligned to another, and he’s watching as it matches Shiro’s, as it calls him home.

And from the observation deck of his own mind, he thinks yet again of how Shiro fought in the Arena. Because this, right here, is everything the man had been fighting for.

He thinks that a human heart isn’t such a bad thing to be beating within his chest.

So I’ve been playing around with an OZ au mostly for designing fun. Here’s the designs done so far and a few doodles. 

Saturn

You taught me the courage of stars before you left. How light carries on endlessly, even after death. With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite. How rare and beautiful it is to even exist.

- “Saturn” by Sleeping At Last

“He promised!”, the younger man cried. A heartwrecking, choked sound. “He promised he’d come back!”

Tears seeped through the fabric of Ryou’s shirt and slender fingers dug into his back with a force he’d never thought Keith possessed. There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could say. No support he could’ve offered. He could only wrap his own arms around the smaller figure and hold him.

It had been two months. Two months since Keith fled the constricting walls of the Galaxy Garrison and vanished into the cold desert night. Two months and twenty-two days since Iverson’s spokesman announced the Kerberos mission was a failure. Two months and twenty-nine days since the comms of his brother’s ship went dead.

Noone knew where Keith went that night, except for Ryou. There was only one place in the world Keith would seek out for shelter. It was the only place Takashi had never shared with his twin. Because it was their place. Their shelter. Keith and Shiro. Only them. And Ryou had respected that, content with the fact that his brother had finally found love, even if Takashi himself hadn’t known that back then.

Now that Takashi was gone, he couldn’t help but venture out into the desert more and more often. He felt adrift and numb, left in a state of levitation before reality would finally come crashing in. Always looking for that special place that held so many memories of his brother. The shack.

Packed with supplies - food, water, wool blankets, lamp oil, a notable stock of lighters and all the little things Keith may or may not need by now - Ryou had steered his black hoverbike away from the Garrison this morning and straight into the unforgiving heat of the desert. Always looking for that one spot on the map that still held some of his brother’s very soul. That one damned spot that Ryou knew he should never seek out. For it held the only tangible evidence of his brother’s death. His absence at Keith’s side. And he knew this would break him.

When he finally found the shack, he knew Keith was there before he even saw him in person. The red hoverbike, parked right infront of the small porch, gave him away. Its black twin’s engine purred and finally went silent under Ryou. Before Kerberos, before everything went down the drain, the red bike had belonged to Takashi. A gift, Ryou had made for him. He still remembered the face Taka made when he’d seen his birthday present. Now that day seemed eons away… Surreal and alien like memories of a life that belonged to somebody else.

Keith opened the front door before Ryou could even make it to the porch. And for one moment it seemed like the world had come to a halt, remembering that there was something missing, before it started turning again with cold, regardless indifference. Feigning ignorance towards two now incomplete and broken beings. The universe had greater things to take care of.

Seeing Ryou - the spitting image of his lost brother - must’ve been the last straw. Keith hadn’t cried. Not when Ryou had called him after the ship went silent, not when the announcement came that all crew members were believed to be dead. Not even when he had left the base. He had punched people. He had seethed with rage and he had broken things, but never cried. Now however…

“He promised!”, the younger man cried. A heartwrecking, choked sound. “He promised he’d come back!”

Now, after three months, shock and numbness, disbelief and repression finally faded… Keith cried.

And it broke Ryou…

___

So…. uh… this… this got out of hand? All I wanted was to express my headcanon that Ryou and Keith knew eachother from their time at the Garrison and that Ryou visited Keith after he got expelled. And that they both mourn Shiro together. But somehow I ended up writing way more than I had planned. xD Oh well…

The new trailer for s3 kinda left me adrift because WHAT THE FUCK. Why they keep doing this to me with every new season?! Where’s Shiro? Why’s he not in the trailer?! Why can’t we just… have him back and be save for once? Not knowing if my poor baby survives every new damn season has me stressing like fuck! So I felt like drawing Keith coping with losing Shiro. And then I ended up drawing this and feeling bad for poor Keith! Now I feel like I want to cry my eyes out…