#Blue Writes

[honeygrahambitch]

Jack: Will, they kidnapped Hannibal

Will: Oh

Jack: We need to do something

Will: we can send our apologies to the kidnappers. Or what is left of them.

Jack: You mean to tell me that Hannibal Lecter who has a job that involves sitting down for 7 hours, drinks gallons of wine every single day and most likely wears a suit at the moment, would be able to fight them?

Will: You don't know what is hiding under that suit *sigh*

Jack: and you know

Will: :)

Jack: :|

[bluesgrxce]

Yandere (machine-ish?) Connor Headcanons

I love soft deviant Connor like anyone else does, but machine Connor is sooo,,, omgggggggg..... I've been holding in my thoughts about him for so long that it's unhealthy. So I went for a Hannah Montana best of both worlds kinda thing. What if Connor acted like a deviant around you, but a machine towards everyone else?

How this happens is something I can't quite explain. Connor probably couldn't, either. To everyone else, an android is either a machine or a deviant-- There's no such thing as an inbetween. He would have agreed with this prior to bonding with you. You probably treated him in a way that nobody else did, sympathizing with him on a deeper level or making him question his morals, so he can see why that would push him to deviancy. 

But when you're not around, all those overwhelming emotions he felt just fade away. The mission goes back front and center to his priorities. He only feels two things at that point: confusion that runs his LED wild and desire for you that makes his thirium pump pound even when he's not in motion. Nobody else can bring about such reactions within him. 

He runs plenty of diagnostic checks in an attempt to figure out what's wrong with him. At one point, he'll try to avoid you and force himself into staying a machine, but that just makes him less efficient because he'll constantly worry about you instead. 

He would eventually accept himself as a deviant, but only so he wouldn't have to take orders from Cyberlife anymore. He doesn't want anything standing between the two of you. But he still largely acts like a machine and he doesn't mind that at all. He just sets his new mission to making you entirely his... 

Even once Connor sees his emotions as real, it's still his natural instinct to mask them. Especially negative ones like anger, sadness, and jealousy. He wouldn't want to show them unless they benefit his situation somehow, such as if he wanted to persuade or intimidate you/others. Emotions only matter to him if they're useful. 

For example, he *does* feel the desire to show affection towards you, and he will do it. He'll compliment you whenever you do something admirable. He'll reassure you and show geniune worry whenever you're upset about something. He'll even study romance media just to learn how to act more natural in the relationship (He thinks that'll help him act more natural, anyway... Lord help you if he gets his hands on Twilight 💀 But if the Bryan Dechart Twilight commercial is anything to go off of, he'd look good as a vampire, at least). 

But he doesn't do that stuff simply because he loves you. He does it because he knows your relationship benefits from it and you'll likely leave him if you feel neglected. He wouldn't bother if he knew it wouldn't keep you around. So if your relationship isn't exactly consensual in the first place, well... 

Which makes him sound pretty manipulative, right? You have no idea. 

Connor's android abilities give him a terrifying amount of advantages as a yandere. The first thing is that he always analyzes you when you enter the room, even though that often means analyzing you multiple times a day. It never bores him because he always manages to discover something new. Sometimes he'll blurt out random comments and you'll have to do a double take because he makes it easy to forget that he's obsessed with you.

"Your birthday is coming up soon. You might already know I'm aware of that type of information, but you should still bring it up with me. Otherwise I'll have to start believing I can't trust you and I'll have to make my own investigations." 

"Your heart rate goes up every time I touch you like this. I didn't realize physical contact was so important to human relationships. Don't worry, I won't stop. I won't let anyone stop me."

"Your serotonin levels are at an all-time low... Clearly, it can't be my fault, since I've done everything I am sure a good boyfriend would do. I'd like you to be honest when you tell me what's wrong this time."

The red flags fly higher as time goes on. He'll stop talking about all these observations if you tell him to, but he'll keep analyzing you anyway. 

Connor is enamoured with your DNA, as well. It helps him feel closer to you, which can often be difficult for him since he's not human. So if it belongs to you, and it can fit, it's going in his mouth. He'll do gross shit like keep your used lollipop sticks in his pocket so he can sample them whenever he wants. There's only one emotion he can't feel no matter what you do: shame. 

The invasive behavior doesn't stop there. He'll invite himself into your home and go through your things. He'll keep asking questions and trick you into revealing more information about yourself than you should. Knowing everything there possibly is to know about you gives him a stronger feeling of control for a single reason...

Your chance of escape plummets as he learns more about you, because it allows him to predict your behavior. He'll get scary accurate if you let him get close to you. This mostly benefits him in situations where he believes you want to leave him, or you did leave him, so he can figure out what you plan to do/already did and find the best method to get you back. If you already did leave, he'll examine your recent whereabouts like it's a crime scene and use his reconstruction ability. Even if you're insanely careful, he'll probably find a clue that'll lead him to you.

But sometimes he'll do it in normal situations, too, just as a silent guessing game. For instance: '(Y/N) will enter the police station at 8:18AM. I'm waiting for them at the entrance, so they'll greet me, but speed-walk away and avert eye contact. They'll head into the break room at 8:19AM and pretend to look around a bit, so Gavin won't make fun of them when they go for the same snack they always do. Gavin will make fun of them anyway and they'll argue for two minutes. Then--'

He has to stop thinking so he can greet you when you enter the building. Exactly at 8:18AM. He smirks to himself, only to drop into a frown when he hears Gavin's distant obnoxious laughter afterward. 

Remember how Connor once analyzed Hank's food and advised him against eating it? He does stuff like that to you all the time. And if you actually take the advice he gives, he'll take that as an opportunity to become more controlling. Oh, but only for the sake of your health, of course...

"You know, you shouldn't sit in that type of position. Bad posture can lead to health issues later on in life." "Then how should I sit?" "...It'll be easier if I show you." 

And so he'll help re-position you, using that as an excuse to touch you. He would especially do this if you weren't yet in a relationship, because he knows that as the type of android he is, he doesn't have a good reason to do so. The touch only lasts a brief moment. It's not inappropriate at all, and his grip was quite gentle. But it's weird that he went out of his way to do in the first place and that's all you might need to feel uncomfortable about it. 

But a lot of that is based off of the assumption that you're human. If you're an android, he still manages to find invasive things to do against your will. For one thing, he loves probing your memory. It's already difficult to lie to him and get away with it, but that might make it impossible, depending on what you're lying about. He doesn't care that it's an invasion of privacy and will do it if he finds a good excuse to do so.

Connor keeps an eye on your stress level and uses it to his advantage. He prefers to use persuasion when convincing you to do something, (he knows how to negotiate, after all) but he'll ultimately turn to intimidation if necessary. Which means heading straight into interrogation mode. 

This won't happen unless you're extremely rebellious, but if it does, he doesn't hold back. He'll treat you like you're a sick criminal, yelling at you, pushing blame and guilt onto you, and using physical force. 28 stab wounds type shit. He would avoid raising your stress level to 100% since he knows it could drive you to do crazy things, but that still doesn't make his actions okay. 

Even if you're really sensitive to that sort of treatment-- hell, even if you have some kind of trauma related to it-- he pushes away what little guilt he feels. He promises not to do it again "as long as you don't force me to." Actually, though, it encourages him to do it more. He knows it works against you now. 

His abilities don't stop there. He can mimic your voice using his vocal imitation, and all the voices of your loved ones, too. He went out of his way to meet them all, just in case he needs to trick you in the future. He likes being prepared. 

There are times when he's alone and he'll say stuff in your voice just so he can hear what it would sound like, such as, "I love you, Connor." Once again, he doesn't feel shame. Even if that seems pathetic. 

Let's just say it now. You cannot physically fight back against him. Maybe you'll have a chance if you're an android, but he knows about his advantage very well. He won't hesitate to remind you if you try getting aggressive. But even if you manage to get rid of him once, there's another model waiting to take his place. 

On a related note... I hope you never meet RK900. We only saw that guy for a minute, he said absolutely nothing in that minute, but the whole fandom has agreed that he's a menance. I fully agree. RK900 is definitely different from Connor, but they still have just enough similarities for him to get attached to you, too. Get help while you still can. 

The video of Bryan Dechart dancing as Connor lives rent free in my mind. I watch it on repeat like an iPad kid watching Friday Night Funkin' YouTube Kids videos. My brain just melts and I can't think of anything else. No, this isn't me simping for Bryan Dechart. This is me wanting Connor dancing to be canon. A girl can dream.

[bluevaractyl]

Cozy Vibes - fishing

“Hey, Vet. I think I owe you a fishing trip,” called Twilight.

Legend looked up from his journal. Twilight held up a fishing rod and bucket with a grin that showed teeth. “I was thinking this lake right here looks pretty nice, whaddya say?”

Legend perked up. “Let me grab my stuff,” he answered, digging in his bag for his own rod and gear.

The group of heroes had camped on the bank of a large lake, far enough to stay dry but close enough for a convenient water source. Twilight and Legend circled the lake, looking for a good spot where their shadows wouldn’t disturb the fish. It was early evening. They finally settled on a place almost opposite where they had camped.

Twilight sat in the grass and started fussing with his rod. He selected a shiny green lure with a oval disk dangling from it, designed to mimic the motion of prey fish underwater. Legend pulled out his own middleweight lure and tied it to the end of the line. He withdrew a safe distance and cast the line with a confident flick of the rod. It sailed out and landed in a patch of aquatic plantlife. He allowed himself a satisfied smile.

Next to him, Twilight cast his own line. He chewed a piece of long grass as he waited for fish to bite, looking as content as Legend had ever seen him.

“Hey, Rancher, what’s the biggest fish you’ve ever caught?” Legend asked, keeping his voice low.

Twilight hummed thoughtfully, letting his rod sway and bounce so the lure would move. “Prob’ly a seventy-centimeter Hylian loach,” he replied. “The skullfish mighta been bigger, but I didn’t hold on to it long enough to check. You?”

Legend smirked and said casually, “A hundred and seventy centimeters. They called it ‘Ol’ Baron.’” Did that count though? His smile slipped at the thought. He shoved the melancholy memories aside.

Twilight was spluttering. “A hundred seventy?! That’s bigger than you are!”

Legend huffed a laugh and agreed, “It sure was.”

Suddenly his bobber dipped underwater. He swiftly lifted the tip of the rod and started reeling. The fish fought back, but he matched it move for move, maintaining the tension in the line without letting it snap. Finally the fish breached the surface of the water with a splash.

Twilight whooped quietly as Legend hauled the fish onto dry land. “What kind is that? It's a decent size,” he said curiously.

Legend grunted as the fish slapped him with its tail. “No idea,” he replied. Its scales were patterned with spots, but it otherwise appeared fairly generic.

He unhooked his catch and put it in the bucket, then cast again. The evening wore on. Twilight caught a bass and a carp, and Legend caught what Twilight identified as a pike. The setting sun cast golden light over everything. Twilight hummed an unfamiliar tune, a bittersweet smile on his face. Legend caught himself thinking of red hair and a lost love. He shook himself and breathed through the familiar pain.

“Hey, Twilight,” he said. Twilight stopped humming and glanced over. Legend kept his eyes on the ripples in the water. “Don’t go throwing yourself on any more axes, okay? I’d miss this.” I’d miss you.

Twilight chuckled, and Legend knew he’d heard what hadn’t been said. “Don’t worry, Vet, I'm not planning on it. Y’all are stuck with me.”

[bluedotjpeg]

little animal

[bluemoonscape]

Happy May 4th to the Star Wars freaks who live in my phone!! Here is my contribution to the Obikin potluck. Come get your food

[life-of-kalos]

First - Previous

The eyes that stare back at hers were anything but grateful. Pure bloodlust would be a more accurate description. This had not been what Faun was anticipating when she freed the being.

A chill ran up her spine and like a deer in headlights she dare not move. Wh-what was this? She shouldn't be acting this way. This man had just been imprisoned in stone for who knows how long, she needed to explain the situation.

"H-hello.. Im-" Not another word could escape her lips before the large figure lunged for her. The heavy chains strapped to stone held tight as it restrained the crazed man. Faun fell back in attempts to distance herself from him, shock jolting through her body.

She didn't have but a moment to think before the chains snapped, and his hand was wrapped around her throat.

His grip held her firm, air being cut off. She gasped, clawing at his arm.

"Y-you're- urk- S....afe.." was all she could muster out. If she hadn't just used up all of her energy, perhaps she could put up more of a fight. But at the moment, she was running on empty and could hardly even stand.

Her eyes fluttered back as she began to lose consciousness. The grip released, her body falling to the ground, moments later, his joined her.

The winged man lay unconscious on the dead ground. And she, nearly there herself, lay in silence watching him. Baffled.

-Faun and ??? Are now open for asks... tread carefully-

[stardustvx]

Relationships: Porsche Pachara Kittisawat/Kinn Anakinn Theerapanyakun, Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham/Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun

“All of Porsche’s dreams came true. He has a beautiful home where he and Kinn have grown old next to each other, living a simple and safe life. And yet, there is one secret he has carried with himself all these years, weighing heavily on his shoulders. A truth he swore to take to his grave.

While looking at Kinn whose dark hair is starting to turn silver, Porsche thinks that even though it’s not the forever he promised Pete, perhaps, it has been long enough.

or Vegas Theerapanyakul lives and dies and lives and dies”

— this is my 40th KinnPorsche fanfiction on ao3 and it’s the first one to actually be about Kinn and Porsche, expect it’s still somehow all about Vegas... anyways had a blast while writing this! hope y’all enjoy it <3

[bluesblurbs]

the Abbott brothers, devotion v. worship // perry abbott , rhett abbott

I think the main difference between the two Abbott brothers is that a relationship with Rhett is about devotion and a relationship with Perry is about worship.

Rhett will devote himself to you the same way he devotes himself to bull riding. It’s loyalty, it’s resilient love, something he can’t pull away from in good conscience (like the family ranch) because he’s bound to it, a soul tie. It’s something serious, something that holds weight. He’ll never take the responsibility of loving you lightly, never take it for granted.

Perry worships his you, sees God in his you. It renews his faith, give him something to pray for. It’s all consuming, suffocating even. He looks to you, his partner, his guiding light, for all things. He relies on you to tell him want to do when he’s uncertain of what choice to make. Even if you were to leave him, he’ll fall to his knees, hurt and anguished, but he’ll wait for you, faith unwavering, like a dog at the door.

[blue-gears]

my gift for @enderwoah for the @mcyt-drabble-exchange!! hope you like it :)

Yellow Peace.

Grian sat down at the edge of bread bridge with a sigh. Jimmy plonked down on his right, Joel on his other side. “Ugh, peace is sooo boring.” Joel groaned. Grian looked at him incredulously, despite a small part of him agreeing with the man. “You won’t have to wait much longer, Joel, my timer is ticking down.” Jimmy chirped. Joel made a joke about The Mean Gills, and soon they’ve descended into giggles that echo across the bridge. Later, they find that the peace ends, and the games continue as they always have. But for now, there was peace.

[honeygrahambitch]

I feel like if Hannibal would ever say a swear word it would be in italian (or Lithuanian but I haze zero knowledge for that) rather than in English. If you are not a native English speaker then you know that english swear words feel weak.

--

Will leaned over the chess board, his gaze focused. He blinked a few times before moving his bishop. He lifted his gaze and met Hannibal's.

He smiled at Will's move and lifted an eyebrow before plotting his new strategy. His hand lingered in there as if he was debating between moving the queen or the rook, mentally visualizing both outcomes.

They had been playing for three hours and he knew it would take even more. It always did.

His concentration broke for a second as he watched Will grab a piece of cheese from the charcuterie board he had prepared for the lengthy game. The cheese was followed by a grape which Will satisfyingly broke in between his teeth, making Hannibal look at him.

Will grabbed another grape, clearly aware of what he had caused but instead of eating it he hesitantly reached with his hand towards Hannibal's lips, the same way one would try to feed an animal, unsure whether they would lose an arm in the process.

Hannibal however parted his lips willingly, allowing Will to feed him the grape. He made sure to 'accidentally' wrap his lips around his fingers too. Will didn't retract his hand instantly.

Then he returned his attention to the chessboard as the sweetness of the fruit invading his mouth. He made the decision of moving the rook.

Swiftly, as if Will had been waiting for it, he got Hannibal's queen, positioning his bishop in a threatening position for Hannibal's king.

"Checkmate." He announced.

"No." Hannibal said as he started calculating all the escape routes, his earlier softened gaze turning into a predatory one.

"Don't bother. My pawn is here, my queen is here, my rook is here and now the bishop."

"Fanculo," Hannibal whispered as he came to the same conclusion. Even the swear word felt elegant when rolling off his tongue.

"Did you just-"

"You distracted me on purpose with your lustful gestures," Hannibal explained, "I would say swearing is in order."

Will started laughing. "And you fell for it so easily."

[bluesgrxce]

Yandere Trainer Red x Reader

[This is the final chapter of Red's story! No spoilers but I can just see the "Pikachu can't learn that move!!" comments from a mile away...]

Traveling up Mt. Silver has always been worse than traveling down it, but you keep telling yourself that it's not that bad; You've got a boyfriend to return to, and you just got back from a nice visit with his mother, her kind words still warming your heart in this freezing area. 

And yet they make your heart so heavy. Just like the bag weighing down on your back, which his mother had filled to the point that you could barely close it. Her words keep playing in your mind: "I know you'll take care of him. You're the only one who can now, since you're the only one who sees him anymore."

So you hoist the bag further up your back and trek through the pure white snow that crunches underneath your feet. At first, you do a good job of focusing on your surroundings, making sure some wild Pokemon doesn't jump you. Not that there's much of a reason for you to be intimidated of them. You own strong Pokemon, and if something goes wrong, Red will save you. 

...But will Red have calmed down by now? He walked away from you this morning without a single goodbye. What if he's still angry? Even though you start trying to tell yourself that's not possible, your pace slows down, as if trying to prolong this journey back home.. Well, back to the cave. 

'The cave.' Wow. That's your home. That's what Red wants you to think, anyway. Why are you putting up with this? Why are you letting him isolate you and act petty when you don't do exactly as he wants? What's wromg with you?

He needs you. You can't just leave him. He doesn't want anybody else in his life. He refuses to have anybody else in his life. He'll be completely alone without you and it'll be your fault if something happens to him. 

So what? This sucks. Why should you have to climb up a snowy mountain just to see your boyfriend? Why should you have to go through so much for him? You're sick of it. Sick of him.  

Ugh, how could you ever even think that? He adores you. He can make you feel so wanted if he really put effort into it, because you're the only one he's ever wanted. You'll never meet someone more loyal, caring, and protective than him. 

In mere moments, your spiraling thoughts make you lose all sense of your surroundings. 

Until you step into a patch of dark red snow. 

You pause. Then immediately step back.

Blood, your first thought as you examine your shoe. The residue of red snow clings to your sole. An overpowering wave of disgust crashes against you, but you resist the urge to claw the residue off. You examine the patch instead. It's not very big, appearing to be a bunch of drops that combine into a medium-sized puddle. 

But your gaze finds a trail of dots that lead towards a cliff on your right. Without much thought, you follow the trail until reaching the very tip of it. As morbid curiosity overrides your better judgment, you peer over the edge. 

...Well, damn, you can't see anything. You're so high up the mountain and the weather is so cruel, only a flurry of snow and fog can be seen from off this cliff. If you dropped something here, you'd never find it. Never. 

You take a sharp breath of icy air, tearing your gaze away from the cliff and back onto the path. Only to realize that the trail of red spots extends so much further than they first appeared to. As far as your eyes can see, patches of red snow outline the exact route you'll need to take to get home. 

Oh.

The blood's fresh. It's extremely fresh, because otherwise, a new layer of snow would already have covered it up

Oh.

Your heartbeat stops. It's like the cold finally got to you and froze your veins dead. Your heartbeat picks back up as you fight against the urge to hyperventilate. You lose your balance. 

Your foot slips off of the cliff.

But you scamper away from the edge just in time. Adrenaline pumps through your icy veins and makes them burst back to life as your mind tries to rationalize everything you've seen. Maybe it was a battle between wild Pokemon that went wrong. Maybe it got a bit too violent. 

Except that makes no sense. Wild Pokemon rarely fight each other to such injury, at least, not out in the open where trainers could easily interfere. At least that's still the option that's easier to believe, though. It's explainable by nature. The other option is only explainable by human cruelty. 

There's only one other person you know of on Mt. Silver.

You bolt back to the cave.

×××

A low hum rumbles through Red's chest as he breathes in the scent of your blanket. With his eyes shut like this, he can pretend the soft material is your skin, and its warmth is your body heat. Imagining that makes him clutch it against his chest like he's shielding you from the cold, as he often does. He's never been that bothered by it himself, but he couldn't live without the image of you holding onto him. He doesn't need anything else but that to make it through life.

"Red?!"

He flinches. Is that your voice? But you're back home too early. Much too early.

He hears your rapid footsteps echo across the cave walls before he sees you come into view. Your frantic expression makes him forget about everything else and drop the blanket, rushing over before you can say a word. You throw your hands onto his chest and he clutches your wrists. His dark eyes bore into you from under the brim of his hat, trying to predict the problem-- and figure out why you're holding onto his shirt so tightly.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?" You ask with urgency.

He squints his eyes and tilts his head. His silence makes your hands roam around his body. Your gaze scrutinizes him. "Well? Are you okay or not?"

Your stern, impatient question makes him stand him straight. He continues to peer at you through squinted eyes until he spots the palms of your hands. He clenches his jaw. 

You quirk an eyebrow at that and take a look as well. Smudged blood seeps into your skin. 

When you open your mouth, his breath stops in his throat. 

When Blue opens his mouth, Red's breath stops in his throat. Heat rises in his body and affects every bit of him-- Including his hands that grip and clench around nothing, his shoulders that tense to the point that its painful, and his teeth that grind together so much that it's like they're about to shatter. Each word that Blue says carries no value in Red's mind, only igniting one thing within him, an urge that he needs to satisfy. 

"My gramps told me not to get involved, but there's no way I'm gonna let you hold them hostage up here like this, not anymore." Blue releases a cocky laugh. "You seriously think they wanna live like this? Get real. You know they deserve better than this."

Red shoves his fists in his pockets. It's his last attempt to stop himself from doing something that can't be undone.

"I came back up here by myself to be a pal and give it to you straight, since they keep making excuses for you. You gotta move back down to Pallet Town, or at least get off of this mountain! You can't live like this forever!" When Red doesn't give any sort of response, Blue continues, "You know they'll go anywhere you go. You know that and you're taking advantage of that! You're just trying to keep them to yourself!"

Red advances forward and leers at him. He smirks and takes out a Pokeball.  "You wanna do this the hard way?" 

...That's not quite what Red has in mind. But he can work with it. 

Even as his breath hitches, Red's steady gaze never falters. He notes how your eyes dart back and forth between your bloody hands and his shirt with mismatched splotches on it. The color difference was so subtle that anyone could miss it. Your knees start shaking, so he grasps your hands to ensure you won't fall, ignoring how the blood wipes off on his skin too. You flinch like he's hurting you.

The issue and the solution are clear. He needs to clean you off.

He peeks over your shoulder and spots the heavy bag on your back. Though it's a hassle to make your petrified self cooperate, he eventually tugs it off and reaches inside until he finds a water bottle. He drops the bag with a harsh thud against the cave floor. 

You jump at the noise. He grimaces. Only then does it hit him that the bottle is ice cold. He reaches into his own nearby bag so he can use Charizard to heat it up. He does so without looking, so he accidentally pulls out Pikachu's Pokeball instead. His eyebrows furrow together. 

Pikachu hesitates when it sees the look on Red's face, how his eyes twitch and his lips form a scowl. Its eyes become sad as it looks back and forth between Blue and his Blastoise. It keeps trying to settle its gaze on Blastoise, but Red corrects it everytime with the gesture of his head. 

Finally, Pikachu settles its gaze on Blue. Then it gives one last look at its trainer. He nods. After a moment of silence, it does as previously instructed.

Pikachu uses Cut. Over and over and over again. 

Red doesn't even look at Blue as he screams. His mind is far too enamoured with thoughts of you, only you, leaving him completely undeterred as dark red blood crashes against the snow.

Red shakes his head clear. He brings Charizard out and in mere seconds, the bottle's ready. He triple checks to make sure it's not scalding hot, before pushing it into your trembling hands. He goes to retrieve the blanket so he can wrap it around your shoulders and give you the comfort you need. 

But the blanket is damp to the touch. He looks down and sees even more blood staining the otherwise clean fabric. His grimace deepens, but he simple drops it to the ground like he did with your bag. Looks like he'll have to find a way to do laundry again. 

Red's shirt feels damp against his chest as he trudges down the mountain. He ignores it, instead wishing there was a nearby Pokemon Center so he could at least get a Machamp from his Pokemon Box to take on this heavy weight in his arms. But Pikachu had already starting hiding from him in its Pokeball and refused to come out. He rolled his eyes, not wanting to deal with more dumb things like that. 

He comes to a stop. He looks around until he spots a cliff, immediately heading towards it. He hurls Blue's body into the abyss. Then, he reaches into his bag, and drops Blue's items the same way. He doesn't hesitate even when only Blue's Pokeballs are left. With each Pokemon still trapped inside, he drops them one by one and watches them as they disappear into the fog. He never hears them land. 

He turns away and walks back.

"This isn't your blood."

Red's eyes widen momentarily before he looks back at you. Growing realization crosses your face as you gape at him. Disgust takes over your expression, as if you're wondering how you didn't notice just how bloody he is before. How dirty he is. How cruel he is. 

But he chooses not to acknowledge you, like he's done many times before. He takes the water bottle back, flinging the cap behind him, and snatches your wrist. 

"What happened?" You ask as he pours the warm water over your hand. 

Silence. And yet you don't know when to quit.

"Red."

He switches to your other hand to wash it off as well.

"Red."

He starts switching back and forth between your hands. He scrubs the creases of your palms to get out the stubborn spots. Roughly. Like he's trying to scratch your skin off. 

"Red, please!"

He doesn't stop until the bottle is empty and your hands are numb. A puddle of bloody water pools at your shoes now, though neither of you pay much attention to that. He keeps his gaze trained on your hands, which he still holds so tightly. The brim of his hat covers his face so you can only see him frown. 

But then he pulls you into a hug. Except it doesn't feel like one. His arms smother you, his fingers dig into your flesh, and his stature does everything it can to swallow you whole. This isn't a hug. This isn't what it should be like. 

You look around the cave. This isn't what a home should be like. You look at him. This isn't what a relationship should be like. But at this point, it doesn't seem like there's anything you can do about it. He needs you here, after all. 

You start sobbing. Red rubs your back as your tears mix with the blood on his shirt. He stares into the distance, looking out the cave entrance to see the beautiful isolation that is Mt. Silver. It removes all of the meaningless distractions so there's nothing else to rely on except each other. As it should always be. 

His touch grows possessive when he spots the bloody trail outside your home. Tainting the pure snow of this mountain, of your love, of your soul was never on his agenda. But Blue came to ruin everything for him, so it's what he had to do. And if anybody else dares to do the same, he'll do it again without a second thought. He'll paint everything red if that's what it takes to keep you with him alone.  

When he can do things like this to prove his devotion, words are unnecessary. This is all he needs to do in order for him to say 'I love you.' 

× × ×

Lol just killed my problematic fave off, but it's okay, he would've killed Red too in a different universe. He actually did, if you know that one pokepasta... Blue Tears my beloved like yes king go kill more people 😍

[bluevaractyl]

Cozy Vibes - stargazing

Something had woken Sky, but he wasn't sure what. The echoes of his dream were fading, chased away by the brisk chill of the night air.

Sky rubbed the grit from the corners of his eyes. He sat up and looked around blearily, counting. He came up one short. Who…? The fireplace crackled. A breeze shivered through his sleep clothes. His gaze finally caught on the cracked door.

Sky tugged on his boots and stepped carefully between his sleeping brothers-in-arms. He pushed open the door, closing it behind him. The stars were bright enough to see by. Without conscious thought, his feet carried him down the familiar path to the skydiving platform.

Sky sat down, legs dangling comfortably over the edge. Breathing in deeply, he leaned back on his palms and waited.

Beside him, Hyrule was quiet. His shoulders moved in a soft sigh. "It’s so pretty here,” he said softly, like a confession. “I’ve never seen so many stars in my entire life.”

Sky’s heart ached a little at that. Centuries from now, these same stars would be dimmed by smoke. Ganon’s monsters had burned and ravaged the forests of Hyrule’s time, leaving the land barren and the waters polluted. While Demise’s forces had wrought similar destruction on the Surface, Skyloft had been safe and untouched high above the cloud barrier. Enough time had passed that the Surface was again green and vibrant, but Hyrule’s world still bore the scars.

Sky asked, “Does your era have any legends about the stars?”

Hyrule shrugged. “Not really. There are a couple of constellations, like the Rabbit and the Boar, but I don’t know of any legends.”

Sky hummed. “We have a few legends in my time. It’s said that the stars are the spirits of everyone who has yet to be born and everyone who has already died. Every time a star dies, a person is born.”

Hyrule stared up at the sea of light and whispered, “That’s a lot of people.”

Sky agreed, “Yes.” He paused, then carefully added, “You know, there’s lots of stars in your era too. Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t still there, watching over you.”

Hyrule’s eyes shone with the reflected glow of a thousand points of light. “…Do you think you’re up there somewhere?” he asked. “In my era?”

“I don’t see why not. Me and Four and Time and Legend, and probably all the others too. They wouldn’t let a little thing like a split in time keep them away.”

Hyrule shivered. Sky shifted closer and lifted his arm in invitation. Tentatively, Hyrule leaned in and let the older hero pull him in against his side, sharing warmth. He slowly relaxed.

Sky arranged his sailcloth to cover them both. The Traveler gradually leaned more and more weight on him. When Sky dared to look down, Hyrule’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was deep and steady in sleep.

Soon Sky would bring him back. Whatever anxieties had brought him outside seemed to have been soothed. For now, Sky held his brother close and watched the stars.

[bbluejoseph]

from now through saturday, if you can show proof of donating at least $20 (within the tues-sat time limit) to a palestinian charity or gofundme, i'll write 1000 words of whatever you want

[bluemoonscape]

Here’s my @alnst-secret-santa fic for the lovely and amazing @chevalperd, who requested some ivanmizi besties content for her gift! This was really fun to do, especially seeing as I consider the recipient of the gift a friend! Word count at 4.3k—it’ll be up on AO3 within a few hours, but for now, read below the cut. I hope you don’t mind that I included some 4nakt dynamics around the ivanmizi for plot. Happy holidays, Ish <33

Ivan couldn’t really say for sure how he’d gotten to this point in his life.

…Well, actually, he could, and in painstaking detail, too. It started at about the time his father ushered him into show business, married this runway superstar millionaire, put a handful of stepsisters in front of him with an unheard but cheerful “here you go, kid!” taught him to conform to the public’s vision of him, tarnished his self-esteem—

Anyway, the short version was this. Ivan had been crushing on someone for a while. By a while, of course, he meant every waking hour since he met the guy (approximately four years, five months, one week, and 2 days, counting. Not like Ivan was keeping track or anything). Ivan had never been the type to fall so hard, or at all, really, but Till was special. 

Ivan met him while he was taking classes through university and juggling his well-established career, and from the moment he saw him with his guitar case covered in stickers and his jeans littered with rips and patches, he knew Till was the only one for him. If it wasn’t Till, it was Ivan in sweatpants eating from a carton of peppermint swirl ice cream with a spoon with hard water stains watching A Charlie Brown Christmas and wondering if anyone would say anything if he just stopped going out in public and instead hibernated in his stupidly big, stupidly empty apartment until the Progresso soup cans ran out. And the ice cream. Which was looking like it’d be yesterday’s news sooner rather than later.

It was around while he was doing this exact activity when his father rang him. This was a rare enough occurrence that it briefly occurred to Ivan that a stroke or cardiac event might be involved. He picked up on that basis, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he scooped out the last candy cane pieces from the corners of the container.

“Hello, Father. I didn’t expect to hear from you—everything alright?”

“What?” his father said absently. “Oh. Yes, everything’s fine. I called to extend an invitation to the Christmas party, on the twenty-third. Arrival at five, dinner at six, games throughout the rest of the evening. Will you be able to make it? Sua has already agreed.”

Sua was a bonus. Sua was the baby of her sisters, which put her much closer in age with Ivan than the other girls. She was the only one of his stepmother’s children he ever bonded with beyond surface level pleasantries, and he hadn’t seen her in some time. Still…

“I don’t know. I might have an event that night. Since when are we having Christmas parties again?”

A pause. “Since right now. Why not? There will be family friends there. Colleagues. You might meet some people interested in getting involved in your work.”

Of course it was just a way to network. It always was. God forbid they have one Christmas party with just the family like they used to before the families crashed together about as gracefully as two tectonic plates. Ivan’s Christmases as a little kid were probably the most fun he ever had and ever would, based on the way things were trending.

He must’ve been quiet for too long, for he was jolted by his stupor by, “Sua’s bringing her boyfriend—would you like to bring your girlfriend? Mizi, was it?”

Ivan froze.

The wrongest thing about that was the combination of “Sua” and “boyfriend” in the same sentence. That was weird.

The second wrongest part was the belief or pretense of belief that Ivan actually had someone to share his life with. That was absolutely laughable.

But it was his fault he thought this.

“Right.” Ivan coughed and sat up straight, setting the carton and spoon down on the clear coffee table to hold the phone in his hand. The carton tipped, and the spoon clattered to the carpeted floor with a trail of minty goodness. “Mizi. Right.”

Because this was the really hilarious thing that he totally forgot he told his father and stepmother after making the mistake of confiding in them that he did, in fact, have his eyes on someone and was not, in fact, self-isolating. The unfortunate part came when they asked for specifics. What was she like?

“Artistic,” Ivan had said, caught up in the mental image of Till in music class, playing his bass, Till in their philosophy class, staring off into space, daydreaming about something undoubtedly beautiful. “Passionate, fiercely loyal, a little shy.”

Oh, how delightful! And what was her name?

So Ivan clammed up.

“Mizi,” was the first name that came to mind. “Her name’s—Mizi!”

His stepsister’s girlfriend of two years.

The girl Till was infatuated with.

Definitely not Ivan’s girlfriend.

In his defense, it wasn’t so weird when one considered how close he’d become with Mizi in his own right. He probably saw her more than he saw Sua at this point. She was bright and bubbly and, above all, relentlessly determined to make him feel included in all things. 

It was a little embarrassing at first. He felt like he was just the little brother she was taking pity on. But now, he might even call her his best friend. Despite all the reasons he’d collected to avoid her (you’re pathetic, you want what she and Sua have, you want Till to look at you like he looks at her, you’ll only bring her down)—she found her way right into his heart. But never once had she ever consented to being the girl he used as a pitiful excuse to his parents to convince them he wasn’t alone, not hopelessly and stupidly in love with a boy he couldn’t have.

“Uh,” he said smartly into the phone. “Sua’s bringing a… boyfriend?”

A hum of confirmation.

Last I checked Mizi was definitely a girl did I miss someth—?

“Great!” he chirped. “Good for her. Unfortunately, I don’t think I, um, or Mizi, will be able to come. My schedule is pretty packed, so…”

“It is?” God fucking hell, it was like his father could see his lie right through the phone. “The day before Christmas Eve?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck me. Why do I even try? I should hang up. And block his number. And move to Scotland. I hear the weather’s nice there.

“You know,” Ivan said haltingly, “let me… check my calendar and see if I have a spot.”

Obviously he did. The day was entirely empty, whiter than the rare thick snow blanketing the streets outside.

He could make something up, but clearly his father was already beginning to question the existence of this supposed girlfriend—with reason, too—and he hadn’t seen Sua in months. Maybe he could work something out. Maybe he could pull something together in time to keep up appearances and appease his family for a few more years.

So he opened his big dumb mouth and said, “It’s tight but I can fit you in.”

“Excellent!” his father shouted right into Ivan’s ear, “Won’t you bring Mizi? We’d love to meet her.”

Not because they were actually interested in being connected to someone Ivan loved, but because they couldn’t have the family looking bad. Ivan always tried not to let it get to him. He rarely succeeded even after all these years living out on his own.

“Yeah.” Ivan cleared his throat. “I’ll see if she can come.”

~

So yeah. Ivan could, actually, say for absolute certain how he got to this point in his life, on the doorstep of his father’s giant house that had never been a home for Ivan, a noodle casserole in his arms and a baby blue bowl with snowflake designs filled with frosted sugar cookies in Mizi’s arms.

“Ivan?” Mizi smiled at him uncertainly, touching his shoulder with her free hand. She’d gotten a pixie cut in the months since he’d last seen her, before he met her for coffee and dropped his bomb of a favor on her. She looked so pretty like that, tiny pink ears exposed to the cold air, her bangs fanning above her brows in the wind. Ivan could see why Till liked her. Maybe Ivan would too if he was more… something. Or less something.

He smiled back at her, and she asked, “Are you gonna ring the doorbell?” Sheepishly, she added, “I can’t feel my toes.”

Ivan’s gaze dropped to her feet. “You’re wearing fur boots,” he teased, “it probably doesn’t take much to make your feet cold in those.”

Mizi whacked his arm hard enough to hurt, stared at him dead in the eyes, and deliberately pushed the doorbell with her index finger, decorated with a red and green striped nail. He returned her dirty look.

They both jumped to face forward when the door opened, and before them stood Ivan’s stepmother in a spotless white evening gown that stood stark against her long sheet of raven hair. Sua was practically the spitting image of her, as were her older sisters. Their mother’s genes were strong. The RBF ran strong in the family.

“Ivan.” Her mouth approached something vaguely resembling a smile, close-lipped and tight. “I’m glad you could make it. Your father will be pleased. And is this… Millie?”

“Mizi,” Ivan corrected with a frown.

Mizi waved awkwardly.

“Oh, I see. I’m delighted to meet your acquaintance, Mizi. The children speak highly of you. You’re Sua’s friend, aren’t you?”

Mizi bumped her foot against Ivan’s, and Ivan repressed a mortifying snort.

“Yes ma’am, your daughter is a fine young woman.” Mizi’s voice was so exaggeratedly posh, Ivan was somewhere between bursting into tears of laughter or sinking into the porch floor. “And your stepson is a total knockout.”

Sua’s mother blinked. Ivan smiled convincingly.

“Come in, then,” she said, ignoring Mizi’s comment. “It’s cold out there. I’ll take your coats—you can set the food on the table in the dining hall. Sua and her partner are in the sitting room off the entryway.”

Seeing as Sua said it was “a surprise” who she was bringing as her own fake date on the phone, Ivan was curious to see the mirage boyfriend.

He and Mizi put his casserole and her cookies on the banquet table, then made a beeline through the crowd to the sitting room, offering grins and polite waves to the mingling socialites—all people Ivan didn’t recognize.

Ivan nearly tripped over the threshold when he and Mizi walked in to find a very uncomfortable-looking Till dressed in a turtleneck and jacket, hair swept back from his forehead, sat a respectable distance from Sua on the sofa near the hearth of the fireplace.

Mizi, unbothered, gave an excited shriek that definitely did not belong in this house.

“Till, oh my god! I didn’t know you would be here!”

Till froze up when Mizi threw her arms around him and squeezed him. He coughed over her shoulder. “I—Hi, Mizi. Merry Christmas.”

Sua, elegant as ever in her midnight black dress dotted with glittering studs, smoothed out her dress over her knees and stood, crossing her thin arms and arching an eyebrow at Ivan, who was busy gawking at her date. She stared at him sternly for an uncomfortable amount of time before extending her arms to him. 

“Well, c’mere.”

Ivan stepped closer and stooped down to hug her. It wasn’t a particularly warm, fuzzy hug, the kind he imagined some siblings might give each other after being apart for months, but their relationship had always been based on quiet respect and love, the sort of two people who didn’t feel in need of such overt validation from the other. His friendship with Mizi was more… sweet, he supposed. Sentimental.

While Sua moved to wrap Mizi in a much more intimate hug and whisper something in her ear, Till stepped up to Ivan, his eyes fixed somewhere below Ivan’s eyes. An awkward smile tilted his lips. “Hey, you. Been a while.”

They both hesitated, hovering in front of each other. Then when Ivan went in for what he perceived as a safe side hug, Till went for the full embrace, leaving them clutching at each other’s shoulders in the absolute worst, most awkward attempt at a friendly “bro” brand of affection Ivan had ever taken part in.

He cleared his throat and stepped away at the girls’ unimpressed looks.

Long night.

This was going to be a looooong night.

~

Dinner was, as Ivan expected, a bit of a disaster.

Ivan sat next to his father at his insistence, and Sua next to her mother, Till at her side and Mizi at Ivan’s. Ivan kept stealing glances over Sua and the parents at Till. Every now and then, he thought he saw Till looking back at him until he remembered Mizi was right by him.

Sensing something was off, Mizi gently nudged his ribs with her elbow and gestured at her plate with her fork when she caught Ivan’s attention. “Your casserole is delicious.” She laughed, a sweet, good-natured sound. “My cookies seem a little childish now.”

“What? No, no, not at all.” Ivan grabbed her hand where it rested near her silverware—a familiar gesture of comfort between them that also happened to present a pretty good front for the performed romance. “I love your baking. If no one else eats them, you know Sua, Till and I will.” He looked back down at his plate, resisting the urge to push his food around like a petulant child. He didn’t have much of an appetite. “Anyway, my mom used to make cookies for the holidays, so…”

Mizi’s expression softened. “Christmases used to be pretty fun around here, huh?”

“Yeah.” Ivan flicked his tongue against the inside of his lower lip, his heart sinking at the memory of a better, more innocent life, before showbiz, before his mom, before Sua’s family, before adulthood. Back when he had a home and wasn’t only surrounded for the holidays because of a lie he made up to seem like less of a fuck-up. “They did.”

“Mizi!” A voice caught their attention; Ivan’s father regarded Mizi curiously, eyeing her from her hair to her dress and jacket. “Tell us about yourself. Ivan has spoken fondly of you.”

“Oh yeah?” Mizi laughed nervously, nudging Ivan’s side again. “Oh, well, you know, we just hit it off. I work in marine biology, and I met Ivan through Sua. Um, what else…”

“Marine biology?” Ivan’s father hummed. “Such an interesting field. Quite a divergence from your major though, right? Music to marine biology is quite the jump.”

Till’s head shot up where he was staring down at his plate. Ivan resisted the urge to “accidentally” spill a glass of wine all over his father’s suit.

Instead, he forced out a laugh. “Mizi’s multi-talented.”

“I suppose she must be.” Ivan’s father nodded approvingly, as though seeing Mizi in a different light. “I must admit, the way Ivan described you, I thought you’d be much different.”

Mizi glanced frantically between Ivan and his father, an obvious cry for help in her green eyes. “Different good or different bad?” she asked with a nervous grin.

“Oh, good, naturally.” Oblivious, Ivan’s father smiled. Sua seemed to be having the time of her life, anyway—technically, her stepfather approved of her girlfriend, though he didn’t know Mizi was her partner and not Ivan’s. “I expected you to be a little wild, truth be told. Though I applaud your hobby in songwriting, it’s hardly sustainable without a label—a good foundation in a science field will serve you well.”

Oh, Till definitely knew. He looked right at Ivan, everything in his bewildered face asking “is this real?”

Mizi scrambled to cover for him, loudly announcing, “Well, the songwriting thing was more of a…passing interest! Ivan knows this. I don’t tell a lot of people about it. Till is really more of the writer.”

Sua’s mother looked at Till with new scrutiny. Till shrunk in his seat like a child being offered a plate of broccoli.

“Really?” Ivan’s father asked, frowning, his thick brows twisted in obvious confusion. “We were under the impression Till was the one more into sciences. It… come to think of it, was it marine biology?”

Now it was Sua’s turn to turn the color of a ripe tomato in her chair.

Served her right. Looks like Ivan wasn’t the only one who got caught red-handed this holiday with a fake partner to cover up for a lack of a heterosexual relationship—or in Ivan’s case, a lack of a relationship as a whole.

“You know,” Ivan said quickly, “maybe you mixed them up. Easy mistake to make.”

His father glanced back and forth, suspicious, but about what, even he didn’t seem to know. In fairness, it wasn’t every day your son took your stepdaughter’s girlfriend as his fake date to your holiday party while your stepdaughter took your son’s crush as her fake date and then spent time with her actual girlfriend, your son’s fake date, on the down low.

It was easy to miss.

“Well,” the man huffed. “Maybe.”

He turned to an executive across from him and down one seat and launched into a new conversation. The topic was effectively dropped.

Ivan hid a bitter glare behind his wine glass.

A whole lot of good that does now.

~

When Mizi found Ivan hiding out on the front porch after dinner with another full glass of wine in hand, she sighed, grabbed his glass, and upended it in the snow, which now looked like a bloody murder had been committed in its presence.

Ivan stared at her blankly. “I don’t think you realize how expensive that wine is.”

“Don’t know, don’t care. I brought you a cookie.” With no further preamble, she thrust a sugar cookie with bubblegum pink frosting into his hands.

Ivan accepted it reluctantly. “You came out here and spilled my drink to give me a cookie?”

“No, the cookie is a mean’s to an end. You’re not driving us later, by the way.” Mizi sank down to sit on the top step of the porch and patted the spot to her left. “Come on, sit.”

“But I was sitting for an hour at dinner.”

“Ivan, do not make me make you sit.”

She was dead serious. She’d done it before and she’d do it again. Her piggyback-transition-to-headlock maneuver was undefeated in multiple regions.

Knowing this, Ivan sat down at her side. He still wasn’t very hungry, but he didn’t want to hurt Mizi’s feelings, so he took a bite of the cookie.

It was really good. No matter how bad things got or how lonely Ivan was, at least there was Mizi’s baking.

“You’ve been moping all night and every day leading up to this.” Mizi mimicked his earlier gesture at the dinner table, covering his cold hand with her smaller, warmer one. “I know you and your dad have a complicated relationship. I understand why you’d be so upset. But I get the feeling there’s something more.” She turned his hand over and stroked her thumb over the longest, most visible scar on his wrist. And god, he hated when she did that. It made him choke on air a little every time. “Why did you agree to come if you knew you wouldn’t have a good time?”

Ivan drew his hand away from hers carefully and wrapped his arms around his knees, sighing and watching his breath fog in the air. “Like you said, it’s complicated. I guess a part of me still wants to please my father, even if I never really can entirely. And I wanted him to see that I can do well on my own. That I’m… functioning beyond what the public sees.”

Mizi rested her chin in the palm of her hand, looking up at him with an expression so gentle he could hardly even look at her. She was so good. She was so kind. He didn’t deserve her. 

“What the public sees doesn’t matter,” she said. “What do you see? How do you see your life, Ivan?”

Pathetic? Pitiful? Laughable? So meaningless it was comedic?

“Like…” He toed the wiring of the string of lights tied around the porch rail. “One of these crappy bulbs that’s burnt out before you even open the package.” He gave Mizi a wry smile, hoping it sounded more humorous than sad, but the look on her face said he failed at that. “I feel like I only showed up to be seen and I’m not really seen anyway.”

“By your father, maybe,” Mizi conceded.

He looked at his shoes.

“By Till?” she pressed, quieter.

Ivan’s shoulders slumped, and he rubbed at his face, trapping a groan behind his teeth. “It’s sad.”

“It’s not sad.” Mizi squeezed his shoulder. “You’re not a sad person. And Till cares about you more than you realize. We all do, you just don’t see it. You won’t.”

“Mizi…” Ivan shook his head and let his hands slide from his face. How could he explain it? How could you even explain something like this? “Mizi, the way he looks at you, if you saw, you would know. The way you and Sua look at each other. I—“ He swallowed, realizing he was giving too much away. “You don’t know.”

Mizi’s hand tightened, then let go entirely. Ivan felt his heart briefly kick in panic—wait, don’t be offended, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that—and then Mizi practically tackled him in a hug, that hug he so desperately needed with the warmth and cheesiness and safety. Ivan let himself lean into her, bringing his own arms up to circle her waist.

“You feel alone,” Mizi murmured. “You think you have no one, and you’re so, so wrong.”

Ivan sniffed from the cold and let his eyes squeeze shut, if only for a second, so he could imagine it was only them in the world. “I know you’re my friend, I do, but it’s not—“

“The same,” Mizi finished, pulling back and gripping his face tight enough to smush his cheeks. “I know. I know it’s not the same. It doesn’t have to be the same. Yeah, I love Sua, but I love you too. Just because it’s a different type of love doesn’t mean I love you less. You don’t mean less to me. You don’t mean less to Sua. You don’t mean less to Till.”

“I don’t think I can believe you.” Ivan winced, entirely at a loss for words. “I wish I could. But you’re so good, Mizi, you’re the greatest girl I’ve ever met and Till should like you. Sua too. I don’t think I’m even jealous of you. I’m not angry with you for what you have. I don’t wish I was like you.” Ivan hesitated. “I just wish I liked being me better.”

Mizi smiled, and for a moment, Ivan thought he was probably just as head over heels in love with her as Till and Sua were, only it wasn’t that he wanted to kiss her, he just wanted to be at her side. He wanted to hold her hand and cook while she baked and hug her on a cold front porch all the time.

This is what having a best friend feels like.

“Ivan.” Mizi shook his face playfully. “You may not feel seen, or wanted, or loved, but I see you, I love you, I want you around. I’m here. You are an amazing, kind, intelligent, funny, loving human being, I adore you, and,” she grabbed the pink cookie and pushed it against his closed lips. “I want you to shut the hell up about how supposedly worthless you are and eat the cookie.”

And if that wasn’t exactly what Ivan needed to hear.

He blinked at her, grinned, and laughed so hard he accidentally butted the cookie from her hand, breaking it in two and sending it skidding down onto the second step of the porch, pillowed by a fine sheet of snow.

“Hey!” Mizi gaped, but, equally unable to take herself seriously, she dissolved into a fit of giggles. “You killed my cookie!”

“My apologies to the cookie. Here, see, it’s fine. You can have half now.” He shoved the more intact half of the sugar cookie into her waiting mouth; it crumbled, and more probably got on the ground than in her mouth. Ivan took a huge bite out of his piece, nearly unable to keep his mouth shut while he chewed because of how much his cheeks hurt when he tried not to grin.

It was the lightest Ivan had felt in a long time.

“Hey,” Mizi told him later that night as they walked to the car, the car keys transferred decidedly to her from a tipsy Ivan, “for what it’s worth, I think if you paid more attention, you’d see that Till and lots of other people look at you that way, too.”

“After he just learned that I’ve described him under your name to people who ask me who I’m seeing?” Ivan snorted. “Not a chance.”

Mizi’s eyes flitted ahead to Sua’s car, where Sua had gracefully climbed in behind her driver and Till was hung up outside the door, looking back over his shoulder at the pair. Which of the two he was fixated on was hard to tell.

“Actually,” Mizi said drily, licking remnants of pink frosting from her molars, “I think your show of idiocy has him hook, line, and sinker.”

Even though Ivan didn’t believe it, he had to admit, it made him feel warm somewhere in his stomach where he must store his feelings of yearning and general longing.

No matter how bad things got or how lonely Ivan felt, at least he wasn’t ever really alone.

[life-of-kalos]

First - Previous - Next

Fauns mind was made up, she would free this being from its stone prison. It was her absence that brought this fate upon countless individuals, now she had to do whatever she could to mend the outcome of her negligence.

Both hands now caressed the beings head, the feeling of cold stone on her finger tips gave her chills. This body felt so lifeless and empty, if it weren't for that small flame laying deep in it's soul, she'd think he were nothing more than a decoration.

If faun were to be honest with herself, she had heavy doubt that she could even bring this victim back. Her powers have always been short of plentiful and she had recently expelled way too much in her rage. She knew she'd have to pour most if not all that was left into this individual. Hopefully it was worth it..

But this was no time to dwell on the if she could, she had to try. Focus and concentration was key in transferring energy. Shaking off her doubts, Faun took a deep breath and set her mind solely on giving life to the recipient.

A warm tingling sensation flooded through her veins. Like a stream that exited her palms. Pouring her life energy into a nearly empty cup, she pushed to expell it from her body. It was working. She felt the life flame in the stone's body grow to a small blaze. Excitement flooded through Faun. S-she was doing it!

Eyes clenched shut, she leaned her whole body into the process. She was running on low but couldn't afford to let up. If she didn't completely remove the curse, all this would be for naught. Her breath now ragged, body now falling to the ground, she pushed the remaining energy as far as she could.

It's not enough. Fear set in, what should she do? She hadn't succeeded and now was almost completely out of her own life energy. This'll take her years to replenish and she couldn't even help one victim! Her fear turned to rage and bubbled more and more of the remanence out of her body. This was equivalent to wringing out a rag.

"COME.... ON...." Head dizzy, body numb, and yet she pushed.

Jingling from the chain made her snap back to her senses. Faun swung her head to the figure in front of her, deep purple-red eyes stare back.

She did it

[stardustvx]

Words: 19,379

Relationships: Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham/Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun, Macau Theerapanyakun & Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun ”It's the first time father has every brought Macau along to a mission and he knows their plan is doomed to fail. None of them are ever walking out of the Main Family building alive. Vegas is alright with that. He always knew he would die young. He made his peace with that a long time ago.

He just needs Macau to survive. He needs him to live. After all, he promised their mother that much when she was still alive. He would keep Macau safe – no matter what it takes, no matter what it costs.

(Hell hath no fury like Vegas Theerapanyakul whose little brother has been hurt.)

or last ep. rewritten. Gun brings both of his sons along to try to take over the Main Family. That decision changes everything.”

-> I can’t believe it’s finally here!!!!!!! this is the longest fic I have ever written in my life and I am so proud of how it turned out ahhhhh!!!! it may sound angsty and well, it is,, but there is a happy ending! everything will be alright!