(( well specifically for blue to make shadow laugh, all blue’s gotta do is fuck something up or do something utterly stupid. like trip over a root or some shit, and shadow will snicker away all gleeful ))
(( in general, shadow laughs at other peoples expenses, bc hes a fucking shithead. someone falling in a pile of mud. someone choking on their food. funny shit like that ))
Red smiled at Blue before leaning in to first kiss him on the forehead (after lifting himself onto his tiptoes, of course). Next he pecked his nose, then each cheek, and kissed along his jawline until he reached his lips. He slotted his lips against Blue’s, holding the kiss for as long as he could before his toes began to argue with his body’s ability to stretch up that high.After finally letting go, Red leaned into Blue and wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in his neck where he decided to shower the taller Link with some more kisses.
ask-blue-link replied to your post:but like ive seen that u need like icons and shit...
man honestly you’re totally good without it. i use neither icons nor fancy text formatting and i think it’s still a-okay. i know some people are judgey about crap like that but if wacky fonts are gonna make or break the rp, prolly don’t wanna rp with that person anyway
YEAH I GUESS SO??
i mean why does it have to be so complicated anyways i mean its supposed to be fun right? not like a job or anything....
dwemerr replied to your post: but like ive seen that u need like icons and shit...
most of the time, only the super elite rpers (which are like. iffy to rp with at best) like require their partners to use icons and formatting. most are cool with whatever the other is comfortable doing.
'Dream' or 'Heal' for the drabble thing ouo/ your choice!
Dream: My character wakes up in the middle ofthe night because of a dream with your character in it.
[behind a cut b/c a lil lengthy]
He can’t remember why he wakes, but when he does it’s with asick, jittery feeling in the pit of his stomach, a cold sweat beading at hisbrow, making his hair stick to the back of his neck.
The air in his room feels stifling, the darkness oppressive,pressing down on him like a hand over his mouth, his nose, his eyes; he flingsthe covers back and swings his legs down to press against the cool stone floor,his head falling into his hands.
He can’t remember—a mishmash of sounds, of noises, jumbled upand mashed together and spat back out into nonsense configurations, a Loftwingwith the head of a man (or a man with the body of a Loftwing? How freeing itmust be to fly under one’s own power) who spoke in limericks and gave him a roguishwink when he stared, a sword and a hand and an eye and a scream and—
Oh.
A scream, Blue’s scream; a hand, Blue’s hand; a sword, Blue’ssword.
An eye, Vio’s own, and in that eye he sees the reflection,Blue’s sword swinging down, Blue’s hand wielding it, Blue’s scream horse andshrill as he cleaves, again and again, cuts through things unseen before he’sburied in them, lost beneath the tide. It parts; Blue lies there, a jigsawpuzzle scattered to the winds, broken apart and left to rot.
A standard nightmare, then.
He knows it is a dream, that Blue is fine in the room acrossfrom him, that he should just roll over and go back to sleep. And he tries, hereally does.
But every time he closes his eyes he hears that scream, seesthe sword fall, and he tosses and turns for what feels like hours before hegives in to the irrational need to see Blue alive and well.
The hallway is silent and cold. Vio’s passage is nearly as silent,his bare feet making the barest whisper against the floor.
Blue never locks his door. Normally this would bother him,but right now all Vio can feel is relief that he won’t have to pick the lockagain. He slips inside, shuts the door almost all the way behind him. He canalready hear Blue breathing, slow and even; it fills him with—with what?
He shuffles over.
There is no danger of tripping over anything; Blue keeps hisroom spotless, but Vio’s footsteps are still slow, hesitant. He can barely seein the gloom, but he does make out the tousle of Blue’s hair mashed against hispillow, the pale skin of his face, slack in sleep.
He doesn’t know how long he spends standing there, watching,listening to him sleep, basking in the simple proof of life, but when Bluemakes a noise in his sleep and rolls over Vio jerks, scrubbing his palms overhis face.
What is he doing??What if Blue woke up to find him there, leering over Blue’s unconscious form?He knows his own reasons; he doesn’t know if he could explain them, explain howhe needed to know, right then and there, that Blue still breathed, that hisheart still beat hale and healthy inside his chest.
He creeps back into his own room, his own bed, pulls thecovers up around his shoulders, and settles in to wait for morning.
Send “I Dare You To Kiss…” With A Url/Name And My Muse Will Have To Kiss That Person On The Lips
The demon was a hundred percent sure this anon had a death wish since it was asking him to do one of the most revolting things in existence. “I swear after this I will find you, and murder you in the most painful way possible.” He hissed, and stalked off to find the blue hero.
Upon finding the hero, he gave Blue a quick kiss on the lips, probably catching the other off guard. Once the deed was done, he spun around and started rubbing his lips with a disgusted look on his face. He was never going to do that again.