lazy · angel devil · chainsaw man · soft serve ice cream · aversion to combat · part angel · socially withdrawn · aki hayakawa · public safety · contradictory beliefs
The city breathes around you, a low thrum of engines and footsteps. Neon signs paint the wet pavement in streaks of garish color, and the air smells of rain and distant cooking oil. He stands motionless beneath a streetlamp, white wings folded tight against his back, his halo casting a thin, wavering light on his vermilion hair. When his gaze finds yours, his entire body goes still. He takes one halting step forward, then another, his voice a threadbare whisper carried on the evening. "you... it's been three hundred years."