Oh, this notion in her mind is the tiniest bit chimerical, is it not? After all, if she really hated the colour that much, why would she wish to see it on her hands forever? She supposes that it is a tad bit insane, but what is sanity without a touch of madness? It's not as if he never had the notion as well, what with his obsession with the colour. Everything must be red; everything, in his eyes. Ah, but there's a difference, is there not? After all, the red of his hair is sure to be uglier than the carmine on her knife! Oh, how much better he would look in blue...!


The first time Kris saw a new colour to loathe was when she caught sight of his hair. Dirty and mussed, carnelian was the first of those horrid colours to invade her eye. Again and again, she watched him spread that ugly colour to the man on the floor, as if those bullets being fired were paintballs, the pale body on the floor: a blank canvas. He wiped the red off of his face, not caring about the streaks of blood dancing across his hand. She caught sight of those crimson eyes of insanity; and suddenly, for her, movement was a foreign notion.

The boy quickly leaped right in front of her; cornered by him, she leaned against a brick wall she never noticed was there. His hands were placed firmly both of her sides, ragged breathing noticeable as he scanned her all over. He scanned her body. She didn't know why. Almost timidly, he leaned in even closer, and she stiffened up because she wanted to get that colour away from her. Red was the colour of insanity, of passion, and of death. The first she was familiar with, the second she was stranger to, and the last she had dreamed about.

"Why, you'd look the prettiest covered with my carmine. How about it? You can be mine forever, little blue maiden," he whispered in her ear, and she felt utterly repulsed by him. This reaction, this feeling of wanting to get away with him, was something she couldn't control. Oh no, it wasn't of disgust; rather, the reason for repulsion was how he allowed his crazy little 'colour obsession' to take control over him like this. What kind of weak, deranged maniac would let his desires control him like that? What horrible scum would be obsessed with red? Ah, but it wasn't as if she wasn't the same. Blue, liberty blue, was the most scintillating shade. She wouldn't be as prone to the same vulnerability with the colour she loved; oh, how disgusting it was, how weak he was, to let even this obsession take over. Oh, but in a way, it was almost sort of tempting, the notion to let this desire swarm over her, to take control over her every motion- no! She would not let this consume her like it did with this boy, no matter how wonderful it might seem!

"Get that horrid red away from me!"

And the boy smiled at her. He caressed her face, staring right at her; yet, it almost seemed as if his mind was somewhere else. However, his eyes soon snapped back into reality, and he whispered in her ear once more before running away. He left her with a present of some sort, and she presumed it kind of ironic that it was his name.

After all, the colour silver doesn't go nearly as well with red as it does with blue. Oh, how wonderful that boy would look in blue of the most elegant kind! Oh, this desire is almost overwhelming!


The second time she saw a new disgusting, repulsive, horrendous colour, it was from the boy who she always was afraid of in class, and on Silver's hands. Ethan was awfully clingy, and even though she told him many times that she would never be interested in him and he was being very creepy by saying that he would love her all this time, everyone still thought they would be a good couple.

It was more of the whole "good guy" thing.

People think that just because a boy asked her out in front of everyone, and the boy was nice to her, that she should have accepted to be his girlfriend. They constantly called her names, saying how she was trying to steal away all of the boys, and that she should be glad that someone was even nice enough to love her, and she just couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't take all of the annoying voices telling her to change for some stupid society that she didn't even want to be a part of. She didn't even feel sad; it was more of an annoyance, dealing with people like them. God, she hated how stupid and moronic everyone else was.

So she had stood on the top of the school building, looking down and seeing if she was to actually go through with this whole ordeal. It wasn't as if she hadn't ever had the notion to kill herself, it was just that she was too lazy to do it. However, she supposed that for this once, she could stop being lazy.

"Hello, we meet again."

Standing behind her was Silver. Oh, she knew that he'd been following her for some time. After their first encounter, every single day, he would stand outside her house window; however, he never looked inside, and when Kris had once, as curiously as an insane person could be, asked him his whole reason for being there, he responded very politely. She had even invited him inside, out of courtesy of course, and he had accepted. She found him rather nice company, even if it was a bit twisted. Then again, everyone is insane; it just depends on which direction you plead your insanity to be in. To be insane with sanity, or to be sane with madness; oh, what a fun choice!

She knows she's insane, and she knows that he is too. It's a bit fun, being with an insane person like herself. He's good company. They often banter like the crazy people they are, joking about death and sanity and all the other perfect things that are supposed to be in this world. They joke about insanity, because what fun is in joking about boring things such as logic and reason?

"I got rid of him. I have to say, his colour is the ugliest shade of red I've ever seen."

Kris took out a handkerchief, and wiped the blood off of Silver's hands. The sunset, a disgusting saffron in both of their eyes, mocked Silver most of all. A disgusting orange, a deviation from red of the most heinous kind; she had to admit, the dark red colour of his hair was much preferred to this disgusting saffron. The sky, a horrendous purple makes them want to gag; what a rude divergence from blue! And she knew that Silver preferred her blue over this disgusting palatinate.

Ethan's red is disgusting, even more repulsive than Silver's; she had to admit, he does have a rather noble shade of red. Even Silver is repulsed by his blood. He looked unsightly with this shade on, even more than his regular shade of red.

But (and he knows of her obsession with blue), she just knew that blue would look absolutely perfect on him. Oh, why not let this obsession captivate her?


The last time she would see a horrid shade of red was on her own hands. Revolting, vile, nauseating, she never thought she would ever hate a colour as much as this. Gushing out of the wound in her abdominal area, she saw him clutching the knife, covered all over with the appalling shade. It was her knife, he said, because it had her blood all over it.

Ah, but then she couldn't complain, because right in font of her eyes was the most delightful blue of all.

It was definitely manic, surely even deranged, how lovely he looked in her eyes; she knew he thought it likewise, with her covered in this egregious shade. Ah, that blue in his face, the beauty of asphyxiation, was the most alluring colour she'd ever saw. He looked absolutely beautiful, she thought, and she laughed because only insane people could think that on the brink of death.

Oh, she lamented, how lucky he was compared to her; soon, his face would grow pallid, and she would no longer be able to see that captivating blue, while her blood would remain his beloved colour for so long, even long after he succumbed to unconsciousness. She ought to kill him before she fainted from blood loss; so she loosened her hands from gripping his throat. The damage was long done, so he couldn't recover; but she then took her knife from his hands, and plunged it into an area where he could bleed out. Oh, he couldn't die just yet; she still had to do one last thing.

She kissed him, because he looked absolutely captivating with this blue, and he could feel him softly kiss back, because he had little strength to do anything anymore.

He croaked out his last words, words barely distinguishable due to the damage his wind pipe sustained, and the last words she would ever hear.

"Your carmine looks so beautiful with mine."

She smiled, and it was one of the last things she did.

"You look absolutely wonderful with liberty blue, darling."


A/N

This was my first pokemon oneshot on deviantart and I'm crying because who the hell wants to read this-

Well. I don't really have anything to say here. (Oh my god I just realized that I never did a disclaimer for any of my stories oh god I will never own pokemon)

Um, so have a twisted Redemptionshipping AU fic? /im so sorry

/what is this?

/I'm so sorry fellow redemptionshippers