#kazling

Secrets. Whispers. Lies. And Schemes

☆〜（ゝ。∂）

I was having an internal battle deciding whether to make the drawing have to do with a fanfiction that I read or if I wanted it to be normal about this. The demons won.

Inspo from: a good myth is hard to kill

by: @bardofavon

At one point in time, perhaps, Kaz was meant to be afraid of him. Now he watches with a strange sort of apathy as the man who took everything from him— everyone from him —suffocates on his own obsession.

At first Kaz had thought it was poison, the same kind of slow death they'd had Genya give the king, but Kaz is the only one who's ever been close enough to give it to him and acquiring a poison when he's barely allowed out of his captor's sight was out of the question. He's hardly right in the head these days, but he thinks he would have remembered poisoning someone.

Then the flowers became increasingly impossible to hide. Kaz stumbled upon black petals on his desk and in their bed, blood on the Darkling's black gloves, thorny stems in places stems probably shouldn't be.

He could end it easily. Some days he wants to; some days he thinks about the empty, loveless eternity stretching out in front of him and almost collapses under the weight of the grief of it. Other days he thinks of how delicious it is. The Darkling can force Kaz to do anything he wants him to do, except for the only thing that can save his life.

He controls shadows, controls sunlight now, controls everyone and everything around him, but he can't control this. He's destroyed cities, and all it took to destroy him was something as delicate as flowers.