#i need a moment *dissolves into a puddle of tears*
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cosmickoshi · 2 months ago
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The way Chūya's gaze softens as he registers the contents of the photograph... the way he collapses to his knees as he crumples beneath the weight of the relief that comes with being handed something that might answer the question that has been gnawing away at him all this time... the way the rest of the Flags surround him not in an overbearing or imposing manner but as reassuring and grounding presences during this very vulnerable moment... I'm going to be sick.
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fairyhaos · 5 months ago
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how seventeen get cuteness aggression for their s/o
requested by many people! counterpart to this hc <3
masterlist
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seungcheol, woozi
has probably actually gotten mad at how cute you are at some point. like genuinely, looking over at you and then just freezing, before loudly complaining and making a whole fuss over how you can't keep looking at him like that because he will!!! he Will need to punch something bc of just!!! how!!! cute!!! you are. nonono, he's not punching you, he's gonna punch like. a wall or something. just to vent over how someone as adorable as you actually exists. and then he'll give you kisses all over until you're laughing because you are ridiculously cute and he needs to shower you with affection so you realise how enamoured he is.
jeonghan, joshua, minghao
only he could make cuteness aggression sound like the softest thing ever. he'll be aggressively squishing your cheeks so hard that your eyes are all squinty and everything you say is basically indecipherable, whilst he continues sighing and looking at you with all the fondness in the world and lamenting over how goddamn adorable you are and honestly, what is he going to do with you? the stark contrast between his soft, enamoured voice and the way he's ruffling your hair and kissing your face everywhere like you're going to disappear any moment makes you laugh, weirdly endeared by his behaviour. you're going to get him back for it, though. and ruffle his hair until he can't see a single thing.
junhui, hoshi, mingyu, chan
probably cries. he looks at you sitting there all pretty, completely minding your own business, and the feelings just bubble up inside him so aggressively because WHO is allowed to be that adorable whilst doing absolutely nothing? it's not fair. what starts out as a rant over your cuteness ends up with him a bit teary-eyed and sniffly bc you're just so pretty and he doesn't know what to do. you have to pat him on the head and wipe away his tears as he clings to you and continues to tearily confess that you're the sweetest and loveliest person he's ever seen. his episodes of cuteness of aggression always end with you getting cuteness aggression too bc of how adorable he is everytime he does this
wonwoo, vernon
he's not very showy about his cuteness aggression, at all, but that doesn't mean it's not obvious. he'll stare at you for hours with literal hearts in his eyes, fondness written all over his face, and anyone who looks at him will just know how cute he finds you, even though he hasn't said a word. acts like you're the most precious being in the entire world, and is basically dissolving into a puddle of adoration right then and there. god, he's so lucky to even be in your presence and be able to love you, bc you're just so pretty and so cute. “why are you staring at me so much?” / “you're just so cute, i don't know what to do with you.”
dokyeom, seungkwan
he is very, very noisy about how cute he finds you. i mean like genuinely screeching and being all loud as he complains that you are far too adorable and what about his heart?? have you thought about his heart? bc it's currently melting onto the floor and it's all your fault!!!! the loud screeching is Also accompanied by very clingy hands, so expect the sudden shout to then be followed up with him basically hanging off your shoulders and holding your face in his hands as he cries over how adorable and lovely you are. everyone within a fifty metre radius will know that he finds you cute, by the way. be prepared.
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litmot-archived · 8 months ago
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Safeword
Dontis x Reader
Your touch reminds Dontis of a past he would much rather forget.
Warnings: suggestive, flashbacks
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather take this to the bedroom?” you asked breathily, burying your hands in his hair as Dontis continued to plant kisses against your neck. You leaned heavily against the wall, ready to dissolve into a puddle at his expert touches. “Or the couch, maybe?”
He raised his head, hooded eyes twinkling at you for a second before he wrapped his arms around your waist, crashing his lips to yours in a searing kiss. It knocked the breath out of you and every thought not solely centered around the being before you. 
Your instincts told you that you were an utter fool. 
What kind of hunter were you, succumbing to the charms of an incubus? You were being childishly naive. Dontis could have all kinds of ulterior motives, perhaps he even planned to be rid of you once you had given him what he wanted — you had many of his kind’s blood on your hands, after all.
Something in the fervor of your kiss must have changed because Dontis slowed down. His lips lingered on yours before he pulled away to look at you. “Having second guesses?” he asked kindly, not a hint of judgment in his tone. “We can stop anytime if that is what you wish.”
You searched his gaze, finding nothing but patience and understanding. He made you feel safe, despite whatever unspoken tension hung between you. It was your fault, you supposed. You had tried to kill him.
“No, I want to continue,” you said, tugging a strand of hair behind his ear. “I like what we have, even though it scares me sometimes.”
He chuckled, shooting you a dazzling smile. “You have no need to be afraid with me,” he said, his hands on your waist guiding you backward until you felt the soft cushions of the couch pressing against your calves. “You can trust me. I would never dream of hurting you.”
Your genuine smile turned mischievous. Dontis’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion until he made contact with the cushions a moment later. He huffed, watching your self-satisfied smirk with a playful glare as you slowly climbed onto his lap. 
“Normally I am the one in control,” he said, a sigh escaping him as you trailed kisses over the exposed skin of his neck. You found the spot just below his ear that made him shiver, sucking on it carefully until you heard his breathless groan. “Don’t think you can command me simply because you’re on top,” he said, his confident words losing their imposing air as he tilted his head to give you better access. 
“I think I am in control this time,” you murmured, grinding your hips against him to collaborate on your point. 
Dontis panted, his eyes half-lidded as he trailed a hand over your spine until it came to rest against the side of your face. “You’re stunning,” he confessed, nearly too intoxicated with the feeling of having you above him to think clearlyanymore. “Can you kiss me again, hunter?”
You obliged greedily, indulging both of your desires before slowly pulling back. A low sound of discontent slipped past Dontis’ lips at your action. He pouted. You could not hold back a chuckle at the sight. 
“First you tease me, and now you laugh at me,” he said in false offense, “If I had known you to be cruel, I never would have agreed to this.”
“Cruel, am I?” you teased, moving your hand from where it was buried in his hair, tracing slow circles at the base of his horns to rest against his throat. “You haven’t seen ‘cruel’ yet.” Your grip tightened.
The change in Dontis was immediate. 
He tensed, his eyes widening in a spike of panic. You could feel his heart thundering under the pads of your fingers. He looked afraid, deathly terrified. “No,” he croaked, tears gathering in his eyes. 
You flinched back, scrambling off his lap. 
“What’s wrong?” you asked, resisting the urge to grab his shoulders and tilt his head to look up at you. “Dontis? What’s happening?”
He closed his eyes, hiding the concerningly vacant look in them as he took a deep breath. You saw him clench his fists before relaxing them again, moving his hands slowly towards his head as if he feared he would find them bound. His fingers traced his horns delicately, and your heart clenched at the tears rolling down his cheeks as he caressed his throat.
“Memories,” he mumbled, blinking his eyes open again and wiping away his tears. He gave you a smile that did not reach his eyes, the pretense insufficient to fool you now that you knew him.
“Are you alright?” you asked quietly, keeping your voice calm despite the turmoil in your chest. “Do you need anything? Tell me how I can help.”
He took a deep breath, trying to relax against the cushions. His smile turned genuine at the worry in your voice. “I am alright,” he said, chuckling tiredly at the disbelieving look you gave him. “I am! There is no need to worry. Sometimes the past catches up with me, that is all. We can continue, just don’t— don’t touch me there.”
“I—” you hesitated, still feeling how he tensed under your touch, remembering the vacant look in his eyes as he said no.“I want to stop. This— I can’t—” 
“I understand,” he said, clearing his throat to hide the disappointment in his voice. “If you want to leave—”
“What?” you asked incredulously, “no, that’s not— I want to stay, I want to make sure you’re alright. But before we do this again, I would like to talk. Properly. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or cause any unwelcome memories to resurface.”
He sighed, shifting to make space beside him on the couch. “Alright,” he said, gesturing for you to sit. 
You followed his request, opening your arms for him to sink into. Dontis fell into your embrace a second later. 
“This is nice,” you murmured, squeezing him affectionately as you buried your head in his hair. “You smell very good.”
He chuckled. You could feel the deep rumble in his chest against your side. “Thank you,” he replied, nuzzling his face into your neck. “It’s a floral scent my vampire friend gave me.”
“Well, your vampire friend has excellent taste.”
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rosesradio · 3 months ago
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are you still taking drabbles? for jercy, jason cries during sex but he also loves when he's feeling oversensitive. an already sobbing Jason comes and is begging Percy not to stop, to go harder. Percy's more than happy to deliver as the blonde beneath him turns into a blissed-out, crying, whimpering, writhing puddle
i love seeing someone else on the Jason cries during sex wavelength, there aren't enough jercy fics out there with this mindset (or at all)
Jason was typically so sturdy—so set in his path that nothing could even attempt to sway him.
He supposed that was why he liked this so much—being vulnerable and undone. Broken down.
They say coming is akin to death, after all.
"P-Percy—Percy, Percy, fuck!" Jason sobbed, coming hard onto the sheets beneath him, thighs shaking. He panted, sweat gleaming across his forehead. Tears slipped from his cheeks and fell to the mattress. Percy had him on his knees and elbows, one of their favorite positions, though he slowed down at Jason's release.
"Goddamn…you okay, baby?" Percy asked, his voice husky and on the edge himself.
"Don't—Don't stop," Jason begged, his eyes stinging. "Please keep going, need you to come insi—ah!" His voice faltered as Percy picked up the pace without question.
Jason let out a sound like a moan and a sob in relief. He loved how caring and attentive Percy was both in and out of the bed, though all he wanted sometimes was to be used. There was something innate about being pushed beyond his limit, being given everything he could want and then some. The overstimulation, the pleasure and pain on steroids. He wanted to feel this and only this—only Percy, taking over all his senses.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Percy murmured, his breath hot by Jason's ear, his body flush against him and cock deep inside. His words were slurred a little, drunk on everything Jason was giving him. As much as Jason loved giving himself to Percy, he desired nothing more than for Percy to lose himself to him, too.
Percy's large hand expanded across the width of Jason's face, pressing him into the mattress as Percy continued to pound into him. He panted, striving for his high while also holding himself back to bask in the pleasure.
"We're done when I say we're done, you hear me?" Percy managed, a growling edge to his voice as he nipped at Jason's earlobe.
Jason whimpered, sobbing into his arms as he gripped the sheets. He continued to push back onto Percy's cock, taking in every muffled curse with the obscene slap of skin-on-skin as a form of praise. A form of worship, from one half-god to another.
Jason felt the all-too-familar bite of Percy's nails against his hips when he was close. He tended to move his hands up, grabbing Jason's ass before moving back down to pull Jason's hips flush against his. It was like clockwork, a method to ensure Jason took all of his come and liked it.
Gods—he did more than like it.
Percy came with a low groan near Jason's ear; he was always insecure about the sounds he made when he came, though they were working on it. To Jason, it was perfect—just the thing he needed for the rising tension in his stomach to explode, then dissolve into a million little particals of light.
Jason let out a small whine as Percy pulled out, chasing the feeling of him inside him even after two rounds. Percy laughed softly, pressing a kiss to Jason's cheek.
"'M gonna get us some water, love," Percy murmured. "I meant what I said earlier today, about making you a custom dildo? I feel like you'd actually use it three rounds a day."
Jason let out a weak hum, words escaping him for a moment. After so much overstimulation, all he needed now was to curl up in Percy's arms—and probably some water, too.
"Three is tame for me," Jason managed with a yawn. "Would probably fall asleep with it inside me…"
Percy let out a hum of his own, this one of unmistakable interest and arousal. Jason couldn't help but grin to himself as he blissfully closed his eyes.
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lulublack90 · 11 months ago
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Prompt 16 - Puddle
@jegulus-microfic June 16, Word count 837
Previous part First part
He watched James and his brother run off into the crowd towards the biggest ride at the fun fair. A soft chuckle from Effie reminded him that James had just left him with his parents. At least he had Remus still. He turned his head to check and his brother’s boyfriend was slowly trying to back away unseen. Regulus shot his hand out and grabbed him by the forearm, giving him a warning look, daring him to try and leave him alone with the Potter’s. 
“Effie my darling, I can see a teddy bear with your name on it,” Monty crooned at his wife, linking her arm and walking her away from them. “See you later, boys,” He winked over his shoulder as he and Effie disappeared towards the prize games. Regulus felt a sudden warmth for the elder Mr Potter.  
“What was that Lupin?” Regulus hissed as he turned on Remus, dropping his arm. “You were totally about to abandon me,”
“Hey, they're your in-laws, not mine,” Remus joked at him. Regulus raised an eyebrow. 
“Well, judging how well my brother gets on with James and his parents, my guess is soon you won’t be able to make that claim,” Joking with Remus was quickly becoming one of Regulus’s favourite things to do. “Besides, I thought you were taking me on a date. Not a great start, leaving me to the wolves when we've barely gotten through the entrance.” Remus snorted and rolling his eyes, linked Regulus’s arm much the same way Monty had Effie’s and walked him into the fair.
“So what shall we go on first?” Remus asked, turning his head to look around the place. 
“Waltzers, obviously,” Regulus drawled. Remus, having spotted them, pulled Regulus along to wait in the queue. They sat beside each other in the small space and waited for the operator to come around and check that all the doors were closed before he set them going. Regulus grabbed hold of the wheel in front of him and Remus copied his actions. 
A sudden jerk had Regulus bashing into Remus’s side before the ride started moving. Their car began to slowly turn, gaining speed with each rotation of the floor beneath them. Remus gave Regulus a wicked grin and turned the wheel they were holding, increasing their speed. Regulus accepting the challenge helped spin it too. 
Soon they were spinning faster than any of the other cars and showed no signs of stopping. They spun the wheel as much as they could before the main floor began to slow. Their car refused to stop, and the operator had to grab hold of it and yank it to a stop. Remus flew onto Regulus, pinning him on his seat. They exited and thanked the man as the world around them continued to spin, laughing their heads off. 
“Candy floss,” Remus barked and pointed at a stand. It was Regulus’s turn to grab him and drag him away. The kind lady sticking sticks into the machine and floating candy floss onto them happily added double the amount to the sticks for the smiling pair. Regulus was sure it would spoil their dinner, but at that moment he didn’t care he wanted the sweets. 
He took a bite and savoured the sweet sugar as it dissolved into a puddle on his tongue before he swallowed it. He was about to take a second bite when he saw his brother tear past him. 
“Hi, love!” James called over his shoulder as he chased after Sirius. Regulus tutted at them before releasing a groaning when he saw Effie and Monty making their way towards him and Remus. He plastered a smile on his face and gave them a little wave. 
James’s parents were torturing him on purpose. There was no need to describe the way a chocolate cake oozes in the amount of detail that Monty Potter had. He’d finally been forced to send a message to James begging him to hurry up when Monty had begun to describe how he had slathered the ganache over the cake and spun it under his palate knife to smooth it over the entire cake. He stole a glance at Remus, whose facial expressions screamed with ravenous hunger. 
“Oh, where are those two?” Effie grumbled over the missing boys. She turned to Regulus. “Darling, would you be terribly upset if Monty and I headed back to the house? I need to finish up a few things for dinner, or we won’t eat until midnight,” Effie asked him. He nodded furiously. 
“Of course, Effie. Go ahead. We’ll wait for Sirius and James,” She smiled at him warmly and pecked him on the cheek before bravely moving on to Remus. Regulus had been worried about the woman for a split second as Remus was still glassy-eyed at the thought of the mouthwatering food waiting for them. 
No sooner had the Potters driven off, than James and Sirius came bounding into view, both carrying huge stuffed animals and beaming madly. 
Next part
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ms-richtofen · 2 days ago
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STORY BELOWWWW:
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Mythical Maddening ⭐️✨ (Part 1)
This whole fucking idea literally came out of nowhere..
Okay, so like, one day, I was eating a jar of sour cream and thought “Hmmm… what if Richtofen was in MLP?” And then I was like “HOLY SHIT THAT’S THE PLOT OF THE CENTURY!!” And now I’ve made ts.
Now there’s some totally random shit in here that has nothing to do with the CODZ story (that entire thing had EVERY gap in that bitch filled) So there might be some stuff in there with little explanation, so just pretend that it makes sense :D
Btw, I don’t remember everything about the story, so decide where this event might be for me pretty please??
Warning: Stupid ass-fuck horses in a children’s cartoon not taking a whole unc seriously
Quick context: From the words of the Kronorium (or however you spell that shit) Richtofen needs to find this “Brooch of Wonder” and for whatever reason it’s in Equestria!! And with a brief skim of what the hell that place is, he set off to locate it at the interim of Origins and The Giant. (Btw, due to the power in Richtofen’s blood, I believe that it would multiply his magic abilities as a unicorn like… REALLY high. I’m not entitling him lol, I’m just making this realistic. Also, I didn’t change anything about Richtofen’s appearance and just made him look normal, obviously with his structure being in pony form)
The cerulean tear in reality shimmered and dissolved behind him as Primis Edward Richtofen landed with a surprising lack of clumsiness on the soft, springy turf. One moment, he was navigating the chaotic eddies of inter-dimensional travel after the events at Origins, the next, this. This saccharine spectacle.
He blinked, his blue eyes – thankfully still his own – struggling to reconcile the vibrant hues assaulting them. Candy-colored cottages nestled amongst trees that seemed to bloom like flowers in the crack of spring. Pastel, equine creatures with unnaturally sprightly faces and flowing manes pranced about with an almost unsettling cheerfulness. Richtofen, a man whose usual surroundings involved crumbling bunkers, undead hordes, and the ever-present stench of decay, felt a wave of something akin to nausea.
He glanced down at himself. His familiar green vest, the pristine white shirt, the blue trousers with their telltale red stripe – all present. The sturdy leather boots… also there, though now ending in cloven hooves. He lifted a hand, or rather, a foreleg, and studied it. Still his hands, just… hoof-shaped. And the fur. A soft, unblemished tone of his real skin color covered his form.
Then there was the a weird sensation… something that felt like an appendage. He looked into the nearby puddle. Centered on his forehead, spiraling elegantly upwards, a smoothed horn. Richtofen stared at it with a mixture of disbelief and profound irritation. He prodded it gingerly with a hoof. Nothing happened. Good. One less magical inconvenience to deal with in this… Equestria, he mentally spat the name.
"Friendship is magic," he muttered under his breath, his voice, thankfully, retaining its usual crisp German accent. "More like friendship is a blatant disregard for the grim realities of existence."
He attempted a stride, immediately feeling the unfamiliar gait. It was… bouncy. He looked ridiculous. With a sigh that ruffled his newfound muzzle, Richtofen consciously adjusted, mimicking the movements of the pastel-colored inhabitants. Surprisingly, it didn't take long for him to find a semblance of pony-like locomotion, though his expression remained one of utter disdain.
His mission was clear, or at least, as clear as it could be given his unexpected detour. The Brooch of Wonder. Maxis and the Kronorium had mentioned it, an artifact that can amplify one’s raw strength, placing it somewhere within these… equestrian lands. Richtofen needed it. Urgently. It held a key, he was certain, to unraveling the Gordian knot of their fractured reality.
Richtofen then noticed a bunch of scrolls in a wooden box next to a sign that said “Ponyville”. Richtofen grabbed one, reluctantly using his mouth, and looked through it. It was a map of this “Ponyville”, a few darker spots on certain locations, indicating their importance.
His search began, an awkward, crumpet-furred figure navigating a world of big smiles and incessant cheer.
His first encounter was… jarring. A creature of an almost painful and overwhelming shade of pink, with an equally exuberant mane and tail, literally bounced as he peeked inside the colorful building emitting the overwhelming aroma of baked goods.
"Oh! Hello!" she chirped behind the counter, her voice high-pitched and brimming with an almost manic energy. "You're new here! I haven't seen you around before! Welcome to Sugar Cube Corner! I'm Pinkie Pie!" She punctuated her greeting with a rapid-fire series of enthusiastic hops.
Richtofen nearly flinched at he was shot with rapid-fire questions. He stared at her, his mind struggling to process the sheer, unadulterated… joy emanating from this being. "Richtofen," he stated flatly, attempting to sidestep her.
"Richtofen!" Pinkie Pie repeated, as if it were the most fascinating word she'd ever heard. "That's a fun name! Sooooo what are you here for? Are you here for a party? Because I can throw a party! I love parties! Do you like cupcakes? We have cupcakes! And balloons! And streamers! Oh, and did you know that-“
Richtofen stared at her, a muscle twitching under his eyes. "I am not here for a 'party'," he enunciated and interrupted with exaggerated precision.
Pinkie Pie’s smile didn’t falter, if anything, it seemed to widen. “Aww, you’re shy! That’s okay! We can still be friends! Friendship is the bestest thing in the whole wide world! It can solve any problem! You’ll see!” She bounced closer, her pink nose nearly touching his. “So, Richtofen, what brings you to Ponyville? Are you here for the annual… uh… Ribbon Festival? Or maybe the Cloudsdale Chasing Competition? Oh! Or maybe you’re here for the super-duper… pie-eating contest?”
Richtofen sighed softly. “I am merely… passing through,” he said, trying to inject a measure of his usual authority into the equine utterance. “I have… matters of great importance to attend to.”
Pinkie Pie’s ears perked up. “Ooh! Important matters! Are they super-duper important? Like, save-the-world important? Because we do that sometimes! Oh! I remember this one time, where Twilight and I had to-”
Richtofen had been here for five minutes, and he already he was on the verge of exploding. This was going to be a long day. His every fiber screaming for the cold, logical embrace of a zombie horde.
“I seek an… artifact,” Richtofen interrupted , his tone clipped. “The Brooch of Wonder.”
Pinkie Pie’s ears drooped slightly. “The Brooch of… Wonder? Hmm, doesn’t ring a bell. But hey! I hope you find it! We have all sorts of things here!” She suddenly gasped dramatically, “Wait! We need to make a party for you A.S.A.P!! No pony comes into Ponyville without a welcome party!
Richtofen massaged his temples – or where his temples would be on a normal human head. “No, thank you. I have no time for such frivolous… gatherings.” He attempted to turn around, but Pinkie Pie, seemingly had the ability to teleport magically, and blocked his path, startling him briefly.
“Aww, come on! It’ll be fun! We play games, and dance, and we can all be friends!” she declared, her smile so wide it looked like her face might split.
Richtofen frowned. “Friendship? A rather… simplistic solution to the complexities of existence, wouldn’t you agree?” He tried to inject a hint of his usual sardonic wit, but it seemed to fall flat in the face of Pinkie Pie’s unwavering cheerfulness. 
“Awww…” Pinkie Pie groaned, her eyes big with morose. Then, she sprung back into her erratic self. “Oh well! Gooooood luck with finding your Brooch!” She said, returning back to counter.
Richtofen sighed in relief, and left the Bakery. Well that was a waste of time.
His next encounter was a study in contrasts. He found a small, overgrown cottage, surrounded by a menagerie of small animals and natural atmosphere. He knocked on the door of the cottage, waiting for whoever resided in it, to answer.
Then, a Pegasus with cream colored fur and elegant cotton candy colored hair answered the door. The smile smile on her face disappeared immediately after she saw Richtofen, and almost flinched out of her skin. Her doe eyes widened in fear, and she gulped softy, “Oh dear…” It was clear she was intimidated by Richtofen’s presence, like he was a freak of nature. Animals scattered away from the unfamiliar pony, doing what Fluttershy wished she could.
"Excuse me," Richtofen began, trying for a less abrasive tone than usual. "I am looking for… information."
Fluttershy trembled slightly, her gaze darting between Richtofen and the undergrowth. "Y-yes?" she squeaked.
"I seek an object," Richtofen continued, trying to keep his voice even. "A brooch. It is said to possess… unique properties."
Fluttershy's brow furrowed in thought, her long eyelashes fluttering. "A brooch…? I… I don't think I've seen one. Is it… around here?"
"Possibly," Richtofen conceded, his patience wearing thin. "It is called the Brooch of Wonder."
Fluttershy's eyes widened again, a hint of fear creeping into them. "The… the Brooch of Wonder? Oh my. That sounds… important." She wrung her hooves together. "I… I haven't seen it. Maybe… maybe you could ask Rarity? She knows about… shiny and fancy things."
"Rarity?" Richtofen echoed, filing the name away. "Where might I find this… Rarity?"
"She… she has a boutique," Fluttershy whispered, pointing a trembling hoof vaguely towards the center of what seemed to be the town. "It's called… Carousel Boutique." She then promptly turned her attention back to a distressed-looking animal beside her, murmuring soothing words. Richtofen, feeling like he was extracting teeth, simply nodded and moved on. Fluttershy wasn’t a pain to sanity, but it certainly looked like it could be a work-out getting information out of her.
Carousel Boutique was, as its name suggested, an explosion of pastel fabrics and shimmering accessories. A white unicorn with a perfectly coiffed violet mane and an air of dramatic flair presided over the establishment. This had to be Rarity.
As Richtofen entered, Rarity gasped, her violet eyes widening in what he initially mistook for alarm.
"Oh, mother of Celestia!" she exclaimed, trotting towards him with an almost theatrical grace. "My dear, you are simply divine! That rugged uniform, the strong, yet refined lines of your physique, and those magnificent eyes! You are an absolute vision!"
Richtofen blinked, completely taken aback. Romantic interest? Directed at him? In his stupid pony form? This was a new level of absurdity.
“Um, thank you?” He said uncertainly. Rarity then started preform a movement that looked like unsteady running in place, a strained delightful squeal escaping his lips. “Oh my! And you have a French accent!” She exclaimed, looking like she won the lottery. Richtofen face fell in stoic offense, “It’s German.” He said monotonously. Rarity flicked her hoof in mild acknowledgment, “Same thing. Now, what could a gracious colt like you need from moi?”
"I… I am merely looking for an object," he began, trying to steer the conversation back to his purpose.
"An object?" Rarity purred, circling him slowly, her gaze lingering on his face. "What manner of object could possibly enhance such natural beauty? Perhaps a tastefully draped scarf? Or a subtly jeweled collar?"
"A brooch," Richtofen stated firmly. "The Brooch of Wonder."
Rarity's eyes widened further, this time with genuine interest. "The Brooch of Wonder! Legend speaks of it! A relic of immense power and… exquisite craftsmanship, if the tales are to be believed. Why, a piece like that would be a stunning addition to any collection!" She paused, her gaze softening. "Especially on someone with your… distinguished aura."
Richtofen resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Do you know where I might find it?"
Rarity tapped a perfectly manicured hoof to her chin, her brow furrowed in thought. "Hmm… I've heard whispers. Old tales, really. They all spoke of the brooch but in every single tale it was in a different location, some far, some near. But those are just rumors." She stepped closer, "Tell me, darling, why does such a… striking stallion seek such a powerful artifact?"
Richtofen hesitated. How much could he reveal? "It is… of personal importance," he said vaguely.
Rarity sighed dramatically. "Alas, my knowledge is limited. But I do hope you find what you’re looking for.."
Richtofen nodded, at least she tried to be helpful. “Thank you.” He murmured. She then fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Do come back and visit me, darling. Perhaps I can help you… accessorize… once your quest is complete." Richtofen mumbled a noncommittal response and beat a hasty retreat.
Sweet Apple Acres was indeed dominated by the pervasive aroma of apples. Rows upon rows of apple trees stretched across rolling hills, and warm-furred ponies bustled about, harvesting the fruit with impressive efficiency. In the center of the activity was a sturdy-looking earth pony with a blonde mane and tail, wearing a cowboy hat.
She was currently bucking the apples off the trees, falling measurably into surrounding bucket. As Richtofen approached, she turned, her bright green eyes sizing him up.
"Howdy, stranger!" she called out, her tone friendly and direct. "What brings ya to Sweet Apple Acres?"
"I am looking for information," Richtofen said, keeping his tone neutral. "Regarding a… brooch."
Applejack's ears twitched. "A brooch, huh? Fancy thing for 'round these parts. What's it look like?"
"It is said to be called the Brooch of Wonder," Richtofen replied, feeling like a broken record.
Applejack's expression turned thoughtful. "The Brooch of Wonder… now that rings a bell. Granny Smith used to tell stories about that. Said it was a powerful somethin'-or-other, lost a long time ago."
"Do you know where it might be?" Richtofen pressed, a flicker of hope igniting within him.
Applejack shook her head. "Nope. Just old tales. But Granny might remember more. She's inside, bakin' up a storm." She grinned. "Say, you look a might travel-worn. How 'bout I offer you some fresh apple cider and a slice of apple pie while you wait? Best in Equestria, I reckon!"
Richtofen hesitated. The thought of indulging in saccharine pastries was unappealing, but information was paramount. "That would be… acceptable," he conceded.
Inside a cozy farmhouse, a wizened old earth pony with a mischievous glint in her eye was indeed presiding over a mountain of apple-based delicacies. Richtofen explained his quest, and Granny Smith stroked her chin thoughtfully.
“The Brooch of Wonder, eh?" she rasped, her voice surprisingly strong. "Now that's a tale from way back. Truth is, nobody's seen it in generations." She eyed Richtofen shrewdly. "Why are you lookin' for such an old thing, son?"
Richtofen offered a vague explanation about historical interest, which Granny Smith seemed to take with a healthy dose of skepticism. While he didn't gain any concrete leads, the mention of possible locations provided potential avenues for investigation. Applejack, true to her word, plied him with an alarming amount of apple-related food, her enthusiasm for all things apple bordering on fanatical. Richtofen politely declined every cuisine thrown at him, much to Applejack’s dismay and disbelief.
Somehow he was learning everything about the brooch except its location. He thanked Applejack and Granny Smith for their, albeit little, help, and continued his search.
His next encounter was almost a collision. A vibrant blue pegasus with a rainbow-colored mane and tail zipped past him at an incredible speed nearly crashing into him.
"Watch it, slowpoke!" she yelled over her shoulder, before executing a series of dazzling aerial maneuvers.
Richtofen, who had narrowly avoided being knocked off his hooves, scowled. "Careless oaf," he muttered.
Rainbow Dash landed with a flourish in front of him, a cocky grin on her face. "Hey, got a problem with my flying?" she challenged, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement.
"My only 'problem'," Richtofen retorted, his voice laced with irritation, "is the pervasive lack of competence in this… realm."
Rainbow Dash scoffed. "Competence? I'm the most awesome flier in all of Equestria! I'm even a Wonderbolt!"
"Wonderbolt?" Richtofen echoed, unimpressed. "Sounds… frivolous."
"Frivolous?" Rainbow Dash's jaw dropped, she already didn’t like his habit of using words she discovered yesterday. "The Wonderbolts are the best flyers in the world! They're amazing! They're fast! They're… well, they're awesome!"
"Well, I am looking for an artifact," Richtofen interrupted, cutting through her self-aggrandizement. "A brooch. The Brooch of Wonder."
Rainbow Dash's expression shifted from annoyance to a more thoughtful one. "The Brooch of Wonder? Hmm… never heard of it. Sounds kinda… lame. Not exactly flashy, is it?" She shrugged. "Maybe Twilight knows something about old stuff. She's the smart one."
"Twilight?" Richtofen sighed inwardly. Another pony to add to the ever-growing list. "Where might I find her?"
"She lives in that tower over there," Rainbow Dash said, pointing with a hoof towards a large, purple crystallized tower it the distance. "Can't miss it. Always got her nose stuck in a book." With another swift movement, she took to the sky, leaving Richtofen in a swirl of multi-colored tailwind. Her casual dismissal of his quest, coupled with her overabundance of self-importance, reminded him uncomfortably of a certain loudmouthed American.
Twilight Sparkle's tower was filled floor to ceiling with gorgeous shimmers and comforting decor. A purple alicorn with a dark blue mane and sparkling violet eyes was perched on a stack of tomes, diligently reading. She looked up as Richtofen awkwardly entered, her expression one of polite curiosity.
"Hello," she said warmly. "You must be new here. I haven't seen you around before. I'm Twilight Sparkle."
"Richtofen," he replied curtly. "I am searching for an object."
"An object?" Twilight tilted her head. "What kind of object?"
"A brooch," Richtofen stated. "The Brooch of Wonder."
Twilight's eyes widened, a spark of recognition in them. "The Brooch of Wonder! I've read about it! It's a very old artifact, said to possess… significant magical properties."
A sliver of genuine hope flickered within Richtofen, along with a flutter of genuine interest. Finally, someone who spoke a language he could just about understand. "You know where it is?"
Twilight's brow furrowed. "Not exactly. The texts are… vague. Some say it's hidden deep within the Everfree Forest, protected by ancient magic. Others believe it was lost in the ruins of an old castle." She studied Richtofen intently. "Why? Are you looking for it?"
Richtofen hesitated. He could sense a different kind of intelligence in Twilight's gaze, a genuine curiosity that went beyond mere pleasantries. "It is… crucial to my… research," he said carefully.
Twilight nodded slowly, seemingly accepting his vague answer. Twilight began walking, taking him to a place where she should give evidence on her findings. "The Everfree Forest is a dangerous place," she warned. "And the old castles… well, they haven't been explored in centuries. There are many dangers lurking in those places."
Twilight then levitated a book to show Richtofen with her magic, “I really don’t encourage you to go on this journey alone.” Richtofen let the book fall in his raised hoof, “Trust me, it is invaluable to my… objective.”
Richtofen then looked at the book, but an uneasy quietness had settled over both of them. He hesitantly looked up at Twilight, and noticed that her gaze drifted to the horn on Richtofen's forehead. A thoughtful expression crossed her face. "You have a horn," she observed. "You’re a unicorn, right?" She seemed genuinely surprised.
"I… seem to be," Richtofen replied, still unwilling to acknowledge the magical appendage, nor understanding why she was so interested in it.
Twilight's eyes softened slightly, and an uneasy laugh left her lips. "Sorry. It’s just… It's unusual for a unicorn not to… use their magic. It's a natural part of who we are." She paused, a hint of concern in her voice. "Are you alright? Is something… preventing you?"
Richtofen bristled. "There is nothing preventing me. I simply have no need for… parlor tricks."
Twilight's gaze remained fixed on his horn, a flicker of uncertainty in her violet eyes. She had sensed a raw, untamed power emanating from him, a magical signature unlike anything she had encountered before. The sheer potential thrumming beneath his stoic exterior was almost palpable. If he were to ever unlock that magic… the implications were staggering.
She sensed a depth beneath his gruff exterior, a force that could be… significant.
She had no idea just how significant. If Richtofen ever realized the potential that lay dormant within him, if he ever learned to channel the chaotic energies through his horn, the very foundations of Equestria might tremble. Moving the sun or the moon, feats that required the combined power of her mentors, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, would seem like child’s play to him. He might even accomplish such feats without realizing their extraordinary nature, dismissing them as simple parlor tricks.
Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship, was beginning to understand that not every newcomer could be embraced with open hooves. Some required a more… cautious approach. The pony named Richtofen, with his strange attire, his unsettling intensity, and the untapped power that radiated from him, was one such individual. Her belief in the magic of friendship remained, but a new, subtle layer of apprehension began to weave its way into her understanding. This particular pony, she sensed, was a force to be reckoned with, whether he knew it or not. And the potential consequences of him discovering the true extent of his abilities in this unsuspecting land were… unsettling, to say the least.
PART 2 COMING SOON!! :)
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lillaydee · 6 months ago
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The One Left Behind
Jerk of a Joel Miller / Reader
What if there was another version of the story before Joel became a single Dad?
Word Count: 2,046
MASTER LIST
WARNINGS:
Infidelity, New Beginning, Joel is an ass, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), No Smut
---
Your bed was cold. It had been cold for a few weeks now. Since the day Joel came home and blindsided you with the declaration that he was in love with someone else and she was now pregnant with his child, something you had discovered that you could never give him. His secretary, of all people. She was 19. How cliched.
He had pushed that fact in your face. She made him feel like a man. He could get her pregnant. He could finally be a father. He proposed to her, after fucking like bunnies in his office for two months. You had been together since high school, went to college together, started from the bottom of the barrels in your careers, supported each other throughout the hardships, lived together in the house he bought for the both of you to retire in. After many years of struggling, you were both in the financial position to live a comfortable life, with the enviable lifestyle to match. And yet, your ring finger was noticeably devoid of the diamond you had been hoping to get from him, much less a gold band.
She was willing to be a stay-at-home mom for him and his child, he said, give him a home, have home-cooked meals ready for him after a long, hard day at work. She wasn’t blinded by ambition the way you were. She didn’t need a fancy degree or a high ranking job to be satisfied, to have a self-worth. He was enough for her.
You were basically a zombie since you moved out. Got yourself a studio apartment near campus and threw yourself into your work and studies. Not a second went by where you let yourself be idle, lest your thoughts betrayed you and strayed to him.
It was Saturday, grocery day. You had just submitted you final assignment for the semester and completed a big project at work. Some free time was coming, which you planned on filling with your thesis. Some big bonuses were also coming, some of which you were planning on spending in the mountains of Switzerland. You wandered among the isles, pushing your cart, absent-mindedly taking stuff off the shelves and throwing it in, when someone called your name.
Joel. With his new wife, whom he married only two weeks after leaving you. His new bride didn’t want to show in her dress, Maria told you. She and Tommy were appalled by how he dismissed you over some 19-year-old in such a short time.
He approached you, leaving his young new wife with their cart, her decorated left hand strategically placed on the small bump on her belly, and asked you how you had been. Were you doing alright? Where were you living these days? Did you get a new place? How was work? Your studies? How were your parents? How was your dad’s heart? Did he get the operation yet?
You felt as if someone had thrown ice all over you. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t speak. His kind words felt like venom, a taunt, a reminder of how long the two of you had been together, how caring and sweet he was to you, only for him to throw it all out for this teenage mom-to-be.
He stood there awkwardly, waiting for you to answer for a few minutes, coaxing you in that voice that used to soothe you to sleep for answers. You couldn’t. You knew the moment you opened your mouth you would dissolve into a puddle of tears, beg for him to take you back, leave her, Joel, please, I need you. But you knew you shouldn’t do that. This man hurt you. Tore your heart out. You helped him get to where he was, and now that he was semi-successful, he chose someone else to enjoy it all with. So, you stayed silent. You were not going to give this man the satisfaction of seeing you cry ever again.
He finally got the picture, retreating to his new bimbo, telling you he wished you well, and hoped that you felt the same for him too.
And then, the thing that broke you, that shook you out of your stupor happened.
She cocked her head to the side as he approached her and gave you the most pitying look you had ever received.
This bitch, who stole the man you loved right from under you, pitied you.
No.
You went home that day with a new resolve. Joel Miller was your past. Your future will be without him. No more wallowing over this man. Goodbye Joel Miller.
Of course, there were days where you inadvertently thought of him, but you forced yourself to seek comfort in the possibility that if he could cheat on someone he’d been with for years, he could do the same to her. Maybe he’ll fuck the new secretary. Let her have a taste of her own medicine.
You saw them again about two months later, at the mall this time, buying baby stuff. His hands very much occupied with shopping bags and her hand. He didn’t see you, but she did, making sure to give his arm the most loving hug and caresses in your line of sight, the smuggest, most satisfied smile on her face.
You were already in a bad mood, and when you got home, you discovered that the elevator was occupied with someone new moving in. Someone with a crib and so many plushies. Great. Remind you of the fact that you couldn’t have children and that your ex left you for someone who could, why don’t you, whoever you were, you inconsiderate new neighbour.
After climbing four flights of stairs, your mood soured even further when you saw that the new neighbours were indeed, your new next-door neighbour. Wonderful! Now you will be even more reminded of the fact that you couldn’t give a man a child, a crying baby next door. Just, perfect!
Four burly men were carrying boxes into the house, rather rowdily, too rowdy for your liking at that very moment. One of them, the one with the cap, noticed the sour look on your face, and said hello, apologizing for the noises they were making. The other three men immediately stopped talking as soon as they caught your expression. You slammed your door just to let them know how displeased you were.
Cap man turned out to be your neighbour, you found out one day. He had gone out to his balcony to air out a towel when he found you sobbing uncontrollably into a potted plant you had watered endlessly for a solid two minutes. He climbed into your space to comfort you. You had just found out that Joel and his new bimbo had their baby, a little girl named Sarah. You had told him that was your grandma’s name, the name you wanted to give your child should you have a girl. Not only did this man hurt you, but he also made sure to dig the knife in further, even if he already tossed you out of his life.
Frankie, you came to find out after he sat next to you for an hour listening to you pour your heart out, was an ex-army airline pilot who just went through a divorce, sharing custody of his daughter with his now ex-wife, who he discovered had a very special friend on the side. The daughter, Maya, was only one. He had custody of her every other weekend for now due to his flight schedules but was negotiating for more time.
That day became the beginning of your balcony time with that handsome pilot. Somehow, walking in through your front door was not good enough for him, only doing so when Maya was involved. Your relationship bloomed from being awkward neighbours to best friends who watched movies together to best friends who slept together to a couple who lived together to fiancée and later wife within two years of meeting. You bought a house together, Maya gracing your household with her bright light every other week.
You and his ex, Jules, got along famously, and Frankie somehow managed to be friends with her new husband Dave too. Maya called you Mama. Together, the five of you were an unconventional, but happy family together. Not to mention, you made some great friends by proxy – those three rowdy men and their wives now your brothers and sisters.
You ran into Joel’s bimbo at the grocery store about a year after Sarah was born. You almost didn’t recognize her. Gone was the polished, decorated, well dressed young woman she was when you saw her last. She seemed to have aged, a tired, miserable look on her face, wearing a stained maxi dress, a very fussy, squirming, screaming baby in one arm, one hand pushing her shopping cart aimlessly. Instead of the smug look she usually gave you, this time, you were served with a look of pure hatred, laced with regret.
Two years after Sarah was born, you took Maya to a birthday party. You stood outside the bouncy house making sure the ballsy little girl didn’t pull too much of an acrobatic stunt with other people’s children around. A tap on your shoulder made you turn.
Joel.
My God he looked exhausted. His shoulders slumped, his clothes wrinkly, his hair a mess.
It was strange. You no longer felt frozen in his presence. You scanned the crowd for his young bimbo, only for him to tell you that she wasn’t there. You sat with him when he asked you to, pointing at the slide next to the bouncy house, where Tommy was entertaining Sarah.
She left him. Turned out, without your income contributing to the mortgage and bills, he couldn’t give her the lifestyle she thought she would have. She became bitter after Sarah was born, tired from taking care of a fussy baby all day. Angry that there was no luxury holidays to be had, no designer clothes, bags and shoes to be worn. She had been stalking your Instagram, it turned out, envious of your nice house, your nice clothes and fancy holidays with your handsome pilot, while she ended up a housewife whose husband relinquished all household duties to her at 20. She became paranoid that he would cheat on her, constantly accusing him of having affairs all over town.
He came home one day about a year ago to a screaming Sarah. No sign of her. Her clothes were gone, no note, no nothing. This was what he got for leaving you, he said. Thank God for Tommy and Maria, they had been a great help.
When Maya complained of feeling sick from jumping endlessly for twenty minutes, you decided she had had enough cake and bouncy houses and took her home. Joel congratulated you on your happy life. He should’ve been thankful for what he had, he was stupid and weak. He knew now that he would’ve been so much happier with you. After almost three years to that day he blindsided you, he finally apologized.
You knew right then you no longer needed that apology.
Years later, you found out from Maria that he had remarried. His new, age-appropriate wife was good to him and Sarah. She was telling people the sob story of how he and Sarah was abandoned by his first wife. Poor Joel Miller. How could someone do that to such a sweet guy, such a doting father. You wondered if he ever told her how he cheated on you with the first wife in the first place. How the sad life he was living before meeting her was one of his own making. How he had no one else to blame but himself.
That night, after hanging up with Maria, you found that you no longer cared. Sometimes, things happened the way they should, and that not everything planned panned out. Joel did you a favour that day he came home and broke up with you. You couldn’t be happier. As it turned out, being the one left behind was not so bad for some people, you thought to yourself, as Frankie pulled you into his chest and kissed you goodnight.
---
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betweenthetimeandsound · 7 months ago
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Two Abnormal, Sad Beauties
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--prompt from @flashfictionfridayofficial, and @angstober "you're no better"
Once on this street, a young woman strutted them in her high heel patent leather boots, in the middle of a thunderstorm. Her hair, drenched with rain slipping through her curls, caught the eye of her sister, who took her on a ride.
"Streetwalker, I see," the other woman remarked, tapping her freshly manicured nails onto the steering wheel. Meanwhile, the older one denied it, instead opening a mirror and checking up her reflection.
"No, I just wanted to take a walk."
"A streetwalker, then." the driver laughed at the dripping of the rain, more than at her sister. With a calm indifference, she changed the gears and started on her way.
A sullen indifference settled on this drive; two different women of the same blood taking note of the watercolor night. One of them took note of the road becoming slicker; her coffee-bean eyes only yearning for a way into indifference. The sister on her side dried herself through only her own arms; the plaid pleated skirt she took pride of started to tear onto itself. Trying to take care of herself from the cold, she gave herself a quick embrace before trying to open the glove compartment.
"You don't have any cigarettes on you, no?" The driver asked.
She shook her head. "I just wanted to find something to get warm."
The driver shook her head; her dangling earrings swaying with her sense of rhythm. Then she turned on the heater, exhaling as the temperature started rising. A lingering silence persisted, albeit with the raindrops and pensive piano music turned into static. The lights passed, the roads dissolved into the terrain, and the whole city could be seen from the edge.
Only then did the driver stop, park the car, and stand out in the rain. The curtain became heavier as it drenched the woman and threatened to erase the dye she struggled to keep bright. Meanwhile, her sister adjusted her boot; the laces started coming loose as she walked on the cliff.
"Pretty view, isn't it?" The driver turned her head towards her sister, her hair windblown, her makeup slowly diluting. Her wine colored lipstick highlighted a sardonic smile, which her sister quickly noted.
"Of course it is; I could see the little lights down there."
"They're about to go out."
The woman went back in shock. "But I'm sure the power would hold on for a few minutes; do they have generators?"
"Not everybody has them; how could you not understand?"
The woman paced around the edge, not noting where the rocks are scattered or the puddles. "You're not better than most people; you always have to look elegant."
"That's because I have to work for it, silly! I can't rely on quick wits and pity."
A strike of lighting cascaded the sky, turning the clouds an electric violet for a moment. The sisters retreated, trying to cling onto each other, but maintaining their distance.
"Why do you need me to save you?"
"I have decency, I guess?"
"I don't quite believe it," the driver replied, sauntering over the edge for a better view. 'You always have to run away and--“
Another thunderbolt aimed right at the car, and the sisters embraced each other again, before pushing the other off the cliff.
To this day, nobody knows where they are; some believe the sad, abnormal beauties still linger on the terrain, waiting for the sun.
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delphi-dreamin · 2 years ago
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Asmo x Delphi x Luci drabble
Just some smut I'd been working on for a while. Finally finished it and thought I'd share!
Warnings: Threesome, slight (resolved) cucking, (basically does what it says on the tin)
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The fingers in her mouth do next to nothing to keep the desperate moans from escaping her throat as Asmo slips inside her. His mouth is beside her ear, whispering for her to “Be quiet, darling. Do you want to wake Lucifer up?”
He chuckles softly, “You do, don’t you? Delphi, you naughty thing!”
Every hot breath, every brush of his lips against her feverish skin, sends a shiver down her spine. She arches back into him involuntarily, whimpering around his fingers and the saliva trailing from the corners of her lips. She feels molten, like she’ll dissolve into a puddle if she can’t release the tension coiling within her. Her heart thuds in her chest, loud enough she's sure that, if her whimpers and moans don’t wake the eldest, her heartbeat will.
Asmo’s thrusts are slow and deliberate, stroking her walls exactly where she likes, and he presses kisses onto the throbbing pulse in her neck. It makes her head spin and fireworks burst in her chest. She’s so close, all she needs is just a little push…
“I hope you didn’t think you were being quiet.”
Delphi’s heart catches in her throat, her face burning with embarrassment. She tries to pull away, to shrink in on herself, but Asmo holds her firmly in place. One of her legs is thrown over his hip, one arm holding it in place, and his other arm snakes across her chest, keeping her from curling her own arms around her chest. She can see Lucifer’s crimson irises glowing subtly in the dark, watching as he very deliberately takes in her compromising position.
Asmo nibbles at her earlobe before giggling, “Busted!”
Ruby meets rosy gold over her shoulder, and though she can’t see it, she can hear Lucifer’s smile when he says, “Don’t stop on my account.”
She feels large, cool hands spread over her belly as those hypnotizing eyes draw closer. She watches with heavy-lidded eyes until she can feel his breath fan over her cheeks. As they flutter closed, she hears him chuckle darkly, “Someone hasn’t finished yet.”
Asmo’s fingers leave her lips mere moments before Lucifer claims them, a cry escaping her as the twin sensations of Lucifer’s searing kiss and Asmo’s deep thrusts overwhelm her senses. She’s dimly aware of Lucifer shifting closer, his large palms flattening and smoothing over her stomach. They ignite sparks everywhere they touch, traveling lower until finally, with a dark chuckle, his fingertips brush the puffy bundle of nerves at her core.
Lucifer greedily swallows every moan and whimper that she releases as his fingers work to bring her closer and closer to the cliff’s edge of her bliss. He moves in time with Asmo’s thrusts, lazy though they are, and every stroke leaves her shaking and crying for more. She writhes between them, canting her hips and trying to press into his touch, and even in the dark of the Devildom night, Lucifer can see the tears brimming in her violet eyes. Just a little more.
Her orgasm explodes within her, starbursts dancing behind her eyelids and fire coursing through her veins. She tosses her head back and cries out as her hips rock and legs shake. Her eye fly open when she feels the delicious burn of Lucifer’s lips on his pact mark, the magic shooting through her and intensifying every move, every drag of Asmo’s length against her walls.
It takes the breath from her lungs and whites out her vision, and by the time Asmo’s warmth floods through her, she doesn’t think she can feel any more. She feels like she’s floating when the tremors finally stop and Asmo withdraws, shivering at the sudden feeling of emptiness.
“Good girl,” Lucifer rumbles as she finally stills, shifting his hands to her hips and pulling her to him. She whimpers when he lifts her leg over his hip and he chuckles, “You didn’t think you were done, did you, love?”
She wordlessly allows him to lift her leg and drape it over his hip. The fat tip of his cock prods at her entrance, gathering the mixed fluids there until he glides into her in one smooth thrust. Even with Asmo having worked her open, Lucifer is still a stretch, and she groans when he’s fully seated inside her.
His movements are slow and deliberate, brushing her sweet spot with every stroke. She keens in his arms, unable and unwilling to hold in the sounds of pleasure bubbling up from her chest. It’s overwhelming and glorious, the feeling of him twitching inside her, the rub of his pelvis against hers as he builds her back to that peak of bliss.
Asmo's mouth finds her neck, kissing and nipping at the spots that make her skin prickle and her head spin. He tweaks her nipples, rolling them between his nimble fingers until she’s whimpering, begging for release.
Another wordless look passes between the brothers and Lucifer is gripping her leg tighter and slamming into her with force as Asmo sinks his fangs into her neck. She comes unraveled with a sharp cry, her vision blurring and tears streaming down her hot cheeks as she clamps down on Lucifer’s thick shaft. She feels him twitching inside her, then his hot release fills her, coating her gummy walls with sticky white.
She feels the pull of sleep tugging her down into its warm embrace as she nestles herself between her loves. In the tangle of arms and legs and wings, blankets and silk sheets, she allows herself to drift away into peaceful oblivion.
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Taglist: @sassykattery @bite-sized-devil @sparkbeast20 @kyungjoon-do @attic-club-sandwich @consolationblog @rensphilia @yourboyhack @flemmingbamse @syren201
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allthekidswerehorses · 1 month ago
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Some ants.
Tonight, while standing in the kitchen for a 4am snack of some kombucha and a few saltines crackers, I noticed an ant where my phone had been.
He was not crawling, or even standing. He was laying, rather limp. His limbs seemed less functional than one would desire.
I recognized this was my own doing. We've been at war with the ants for some time, now, and yet, I felt guilty for this. I've killed dozens of ants, many just by running the water in the sink. But this wasn't death. This was ongoing pain. Even though ants lack the advanced nervous system that humans contain, he had a directive that he could no longer perform.
I wanted him to die successful. I wanted to make his final moment one of euphoria.
First, I got a pinch of sugar. I ate most of it, and then presented to the ant two grains. I pushed one close, then got a toothpick so I could push it even closer. He seemed disinterested.
I remembered learning that ants use a saliva to break stuff down. I decided that may be too much work. So I got a paper cup, put a pinch of sugar in it, and took just enough warm water to dissolve the sugar. Then(after failing to coerce the ant into the paper cup), I dipped the toothpick, and I painted a small puddle nearby.
One of the ant's co-workers came by, checked on him, and excitedly began to drink the sugar water, or maybe, to measure it. I noticed his feelers going back in forth in some kind of silly-looking dance. Meanwhile, the injured ant took to one of the grains.
I admired the ant's resilience. I take the first excuse I can to stop working. I do not believe humans should be so self-sacrificial, and yet, witnessing the ant, a tear nearly came to my eye. Was I in awe of his persistence? Or did I feel great shame about my own tendency towards futility? When I am injured, I become dejected. I give in. I decide that the world must be against me, then.
A third ant came along, walked away. It seemed to be scouting for paths. Maybe looking for additional sugars. As I perceived it, they wanted to determine what number of ants needed to be brought back to my kitchen counter.
Zero.
I hovered with a plastic fork and a paper towel. I'm a fickle god, aren't i? Mysterious. I'd already given this ant more than I'd ever given any of them. It was time to say goodbye to my little experiment in projection. And yet, I found it very difficult.
I scooped them up, and I ground them as quickly as I could. I did not want them to be aware of their failure. I wanted them to die heroes.
I cleaned the counter, and then i dried it.
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tiniedemon · 2 years ago
Text
— ♡
stay
kyle broflovski / reader
— ♡
cw | angst
times were rough. between your demanding shifts at the local diner and schoolwork, you were exhausted and overstimulated. you were struggling to keep food on the table for your little sister, on the verge of losing custody to your strict and apathetic grandparents.
the one light you had in your life at this point was the presence of your little sister and your boyfriend, both of whom were trapped away in your sister’s bedroom. kyle was reading her a bedtime story whilst you stressed over the essay glaring up at you from the screen of your laptop.
you were so in over your head and far too prideful to admit you needed help, keeping a smile on your face at all times. you wouldn’t be you if you couldn’t put on a brave face and build yourself a ladder out of the trench you’d fallen into. you could feel your overconfident, cheerful facade splintering with every moment you spent wearing it, tears forming in your eyes as you let your mind wander over your predicament.
you startled as kyle’s hands fell gently on your shoulders, massaging the tension from them. you sniffled and wiped a stray tear from your cheek, smiling up at him. he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips and rubbed his palms up and down your biceps, eyebrows drawn together in concern.
“what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he inquired. you shook your head with a shaky smile, hands shivering in your lap. he took note of this, kneeling to your left and lacing his fingers with yours. he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand and rested his chin against your thigh, frown present on his lips.
if he was being honest, he was terrified. in the three years he’d known you, he’d never seen you cry. hell, he’d never seen you with more than a small stressed frown. this was an entirely new part of you he was experiencing for the first time and he was frightened. one wrong step on his part and you could blow a fuse and leave him forever.
“you can talk to me, love,” he hummed, his thumbs rubbing circles in the backs of your hands. you let out a shaky sigh and tilted your head back, wincing at the small cramp between your shoulders. you were learning the hard way that hours spent bending over a computer was not good for your spine.
“i’m just,” you paused, struggling to find the words to express how you felt. you weren’t used to opening up to anyone, pushing all your emotions to the side in favor of taking care of your affairs.
“stressed,” you finally decided, and it wasn’t a lie, but there was so much more than that on your mind. stressed was the easiest way to sum up how you were feeling, the best way to go about expressing yourself without dissolving into a puddle of tears. kyle nodded slowly in understanding, his eyes panning off to the side as a thoughtful look overcame his face.
“how about i draw you bath and you can tell me all about it while you soak?” he offered, and you were much too weak to say no to the soft eyes he regarded you with. he hummed as he pulled you to your feet and guided you to the bathroom.
once he’d found a comfortable temperature for the water, he put the stopper in the drain and poured a capful of bubbles into the bottom of the tub. you undressed slowly as he left the bathroom with the promise of returning with a pair of pajamas. you sunk into the bath and allowed the warm water to relax the tension in your back and shoulders. you’d been so preoccupied with your life that you hadn’t taken time to do something like this for yourself in nearly a year.
you teared up again at the thought, unable to fight the fat tears that rolled down your cheeks and the pitiful sobs that rocked your entire body. the pain in your heart and brain had grown too much, overwhelming you in one solid rush of emotion.
kyle was in the bathroom in seconds, tossing your change of clothes on the bathroom counter and pulling you into a tight hug. a voice in the back of his head scolded him for getting his shirt soaked, but in the moment he was far too frazzled to pay it any mind. you were more important.
he shushed you and held your head against his chest, pressing kiss after kiss to the damp hair on the top of your head. you sobbed into his chest until your throat physically couldn’t produce noise, and continued until your supply of tears stopped.
the aftermath was simple: kyle joined you in the tub, leaving his clothes in a pile just outside the bathtub. he squeezed in behind you, holding you against his chest as he ran a soapy washcloth over you. you couldn’t bring yourself to move, a numbness spreading to your limbs and the emotional section of your brain. you were limp against him, letting him lift your floppy arms to properly clean you.
once he’d finished, he held you to him until you were stable enough to exit the bathtub. he dried you both once you were on the bath mat, dressing you first in your loose pajama shorts and oversized band tee and himself second in the sweatpants he’d just discarded on your bathroom floor. he peppered kisses all over your face as he dried your hair, his heart soaring at the small smile he’d managed to drag out of you.
you drew him into a tight hug and buried your cold nose in the crook of his neck, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. he hummed softly and rocked the two of you back and forth, stroking the back of your head as gently as he could.
“i think i’m ready for bed, ky,” you whispered hoarsely. he nodded and cupped your cheeks, pushing your head back just far enough to peck you on the tip of your nose. he guided you gently to bed and you fought a yawn once he’d wrapped the blankets around you. he sat on the edge of the bed closest to you, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“stay with me, ky?” you requested feebly. he wanted to cry in that moment, seeing the pleading glimmer in your puffy, reddened eyes. he couldn’t do much more than nod and slink under the covers with you, pulling you close to his chest. you sighed softly and shifted until you were comfortable, thumb stroking his sternum.
“night, love,” he whispered into the darkness of your room. he smiled at the lack of response, your deep breathing a clear indicator of your slumber. he closed his eyes and let himself drift off as well, making a mental note to wake up early enough to turn your alarms and let you sleep in for once. you deserved it, after all.
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colorsunlikeanythingseen · 3 years ago
Text
Trials of Apollo Fics I Recommend
https://archiveofourown.org/works/23618923/chapters/56682322
Fall of the Sun by Curioser
Five times Apollo fainted and one time he didn’t
The fic did a really good job of getting into Megs head and portraying her. An excellent exploration of her relationship with Apollo as well.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/29758371/chapters/73199211
See You Yesterday by JustMcShane
Meg,” Apollo says, instead of doing something undignified like dissolving into a puddle of tears on the floor, and then he says it again for emphasis. “Meg. What – you – this is my palace.”
“Duh,” comes the typically eloquent response. “Where else was I gonna find you?”
or,
Something’s wrong with Meg. Something’s up with Apollo. Neither of them are talking about their respective things. Things will most definitely get worse before they get better.
This is an incredibly well written mystery and I do not want to spoil anything by elaborating on that.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/34566013/chapters/86042683
Apollo and the Aftermath by Ceruleancats
The Roman emperors and Python have been defeated, the oracles reclaimed, and Apollo restored to godhood. He's having somewhat of a hard time adjusting to being back among the gods, which is understandable after his six-month grow-a-conscience speedrun. But something else is rotten in the state of Olympus, and before it can really feel like home, it's going to require some serious renovation.
One of the best fics exploring the consequences of Apollo’s character development and what that means for Olympus.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/40659729/chapters/101874816
Bad Sons by thesungod
Hades turned to the demigods that were still kneeling.
“I need to speak with Will Solace,” he said to the shocked room, in the tone he could have used to say “I came to ask if one of you could lend me a pen.”
“Alone,” the god added after a moment, staring right at Nico
Or, Will and Nico go on the stupidest quest ever. And it’s all Apollo’s fault.
Another excellent mystery fic with plenty of twists and turns. Also there is Solangelo and an amazing quest mate/ third wheel accompanying them.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/42410157
I give a tour/ Nico questions everything/ Nothing to see here/ by Imnobody122
After Thalia crashed the sun chariot Apollo stuck around a bit longer to visit his kids and gives Nico an excellent tour.
Might take place during a Titian’s Curse but every bit of Apollo’s narration in this show that they have read ToA. It is just Apollo visiting his kids and Nico not being traumatized.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/3932992
A day of Two Halves by TsarinaTorment
You know those days where everything goes wrong no matter what you do? Today was one such day. To begin with, anyway.
One of my favorites of the author’s one shots, though all of them are good and you should go read them. It is just really good Apollo and his children fluff.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/40947402
Through the Son’s Eyes by Hollowsun
A journey through Asclepius' relationship with his dad, from Ancient Greece to modern day.
Exactly what it says on the tin.
https://archiveofourown.org/series/179908
ToA Analysis
A series of essays on the Trials of Apollo. Apollo is a very complex character and unreliable narrator and these essays are excellent at diving into his character and the themes of the novels.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/37101943/chapters/92575894
The Tails of A Pollo by ceruleancats
The hunt for the Teumessian Fox hasn't been going great, but thanks to a new prophecy (of sorts), it looks like Apollo may be key to aiding the Hunters of Artemis in the beast's defeat. In like, a super badass, heroic way, of course. Actually, on second thought, maybe just imagine the monster's defeat in your head. You definitely don't have to read this. I'm certain you get the gist of it already. You can simply exit this tab real quick, no biggie. Have a lovely day!
If a fic has a pun in the title there is no way it can be bad. The author does a good job at capturing Apollo’s voice as well as his relationship with Artemis. Honestly this author is just really great and you should read all of their fics.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/39669981
Wild Nights, Wild Nights by Hollowsun
Mcshizzle
@Fireboy_
using my new twitter account to livetweet my epic game of Monopoly
A monopoly game played by, Leo, Lityerses, Hazel, Nico, Apollo, Meg and Reyna. It is hilarious and very chaotic.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/36911695/chapters/92089432
The Stolen God by TsarinaTorment
Python is defeated. The prophecies are restored, and Nero has fallen. Apollo has not been seen since. His trials are over; why isn’t he back on Olympus?
There are a surprisingly amount of excellent quests and mysteries in this fandom. It is very well plotted with a completely accurate and rhyming prophecy. Also a love their characterization of Will.
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endlessfebrvary · 3 months ago
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Even though they had briefly talked about children before, Indigo's still taken aback by the whole ordeal, still terrified that Misha doesn't actually want this, that the timing is all wrong, that they're going to make for terrible parents. They hadn't discussed details (concretely) about how they wanted to raise their children, what their lives were going to look like once the babies started coming, so on and so forth. What should be a joyful moment is actually quite crippling. It takes all of Indigo's strength to keep from dissolving into a puddle of tears on the floor.
Misha's expression is sweet, as are his actions. Indi closes their eyes for a moment, just taking a beat to let the love wash over them. Over the years they've shared their native languages with each other and attempted to learn, so Indigo understands the sentiment behind Misha's words - it does wonders to soothe their heart. The kiss, so gentle and meaningful, is even better. Indi can't help the content sigh that slips out after the kiss breaks. A moment of stillness, calm, that they really need.
Indigo opens their eyes when Misha's hands come up to cup their face. They even smile a little, knowing there is truth in his words. "Rarely planned is right. I just thought maybe we would attempt it." In the silence that follows, Indigo is positive that their love is fearful too, they know him well enough to know where his mind goes. They share a lot of the same concerns, no doubt about that. They have so much to discuss and work through, and as daunting as it all is, it has to be done if they're doing this.
Even though it's very early and there are absolutely no physical signs of the pregnancy yet, Misha's hand on Indi's belly cements the fact that there's potential growing in there. It's not a baby but it's going to be, God allowing. And that's enough to make Indigo lose their resolve. When they blink, the tears that had pooled in their eyes start rolling down their cheeks. They laugh, and even though it's wet and strained from crying, it's joyous. "I'm so fucking happy, Misha. I thought I wanted this with you and now that it's happened I know without a doubt that it's right. This is definitely what I want to do, it's what I want for us. And I really really want you to be happy about it too." They attempt to wipe the wetness from their face but it's no use, the tears aren't stopping. "It's okay if you're not ready. I don't want to force this on you. So we can talk about it if you aren't." But the way Misha is looking at them, the way he's touching them, Indi knows he's on board. "It's a lot... A baby, Mish. Our fucking baby." They're proper sobbing now, shoulders shaking as they throw their arms around Misha and pull him close, needing their bodies to touch. They want to say so much but it will have to wait until the emotion passes.
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Before Indigo came into Misha's life, the Russian was certain he would die single and childless — a happy virgin. He'd never entertained the idea of a lover before Indigo touched him, and he's wholly changed and transformed since then. It's been a metamorphosis and Misha's visions of the future have changed considerably since then. It's true he'll do anything to make his Indigo happy, but this is different — they both know. This will change their lives completely.
Misha — as usual — is quiet while Indigo speaks. They're talking a mile a minute and MIsha can practically feel the nerves electrifying the air all around the two of them. He rubs his lips together and regards his partner with a soft and affectionate expression, reaching out to ground Indigo there with him with a hand on their shoulder that slips up to cup Indi's face. He smiles softly, runs the pad of his thumb over Indigo's bottom lip, and says something sweet in Russian that he doesn't know how to translate into English. After that, Misha leans in and presses their mouths together, kissing his partner delicately while trying to convey so much emotion with a simple gesture.
"My love." He says so softly, holding Indigo's face in both his hands now. "Children are rarely planned." He's smiling, rubbing their noses together, staying calm and cool and even despite the fear and anxieties creeping up inside of him. He's happy to have been reassured, but he's fearful about the things that led to the discovery — fearful of how they will continue — what their employer will think and say. Obviously, Indigo won't be able to continue their regular work while they are with child, but will there be other work for them? Will the two of them be able to provide? He has so many unanswered questions but he swallows them all down and runs his hand over Indigo's still flat belly instead. "Are you happy?" He's trying not to dwell on the implication of a child lingering after he's gone — tries not to think of it like a piece of himself he can leave behind for his lover, but it seems Indigo's arrived at that station, too. "I would never ask you to do that. It is a blessing this happened at all, no? Why would I ask you to change it?"
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gavinsdeviant · 2 years ago
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A Broken Spellsong
Inspired by the song Lost Without You by Freya Ridings
Enjoy!
cw/tw- references to large-scale existential crisis, angst, a lot of hurt and no comfort, major character death, no happy ending, the imperium
fandom- Redacted Audio
pairing- Vindemiator (Imp! Gavin) & Freelancer
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Freelancer hugs their knees to their chest, face turning to the waning moonlight.
Their threads twist painfully tight in their chest as they inhale a shuddering breath. Every minute fell away, ticking faster and faster. It was midnight. No, it was sunrise. Time felt far flung as tears spill down their cheeks. Never again. Never another day.
The sound of crickets are unbearable loud in their ears, the crackling brook again another part they’d need to let go off.
With a worn groan, the front door slides open, Vin standing in the doorway. They avoid his eyes and swallow hard. He walks closer before sitting down and they’re both quiet for a few moments.
His jean jacket brushes their arm and they want to cry all over again. He’d wore it so much some parts were in near tatters.
“I’ll remember this,” they whisper, voice lost to the wind.
It’s like no other pain I’ve felt before
“What?” he sounds troubled but still they continue, biting back tears. “Before I-“ they shudder, voice thick,” before tomorrow, I want to say something.”
He makes a pained sound, as if to ask them not to. “I know.” They grasp his hand in theirs, tears blurring their vision.
To love someone so much, to have no control
He’d broken down in their arms earlier when they’d heard, had begged to whoever was listening to not take them from him. His own bit of solace. This man, who had given them a second chance so many months ago, would have struck a bargain with his gods to stop it. Stop what they both knew came next.
“I don’t… I just don’t want to lose the only person who made me feel,” he hesitates, sniffling. “Seen. Made me feel more.”
“There is nothing that can make me forget you. I see you. All of you.” He doesn’t seem convinced but gives a shaky nod. “Leaving you won’t change that.”
“You’ve been the best thing that’s happened to me.” Their voice breaks, the organ in their chest split wide open as they dissolve into wracking sobs. They cover their face with their hands even as he reaches for them. They pull back before he can touch his warm palm to their cold skin to pin him with their gaze, bright and blazing as the stars above.
“Don’t. Just let me get this out before I fall apart. Let me say this.” They cups his cheek then, holding that beautiful face in their hands to know that at least this, could be their happy ending.
“When you miss me, know that you are Vindemiator. You are so much more than anyone can imagine. You are more than sex. You are more than just a daemon. You mean more to me than anything on this earth, and know that I love you very much.”
I think I'm lost without you
His wails continue anew, a guttural sound they would never forget, even as darkness would claim them.
Light cascades through nearby trees— morning.
“As the sun reaches the sky in full, the holes in the Meridian will become far greater than any of us imagined,” Avior had said it with such finality. Such a somber phone call, they had thought.
“Walk with me,” they say, reaching a hand out to the incubus. He follows them quietly into the trees, down the path and into the field of wildflowers that had just begun to bloom. They fall down onto the grass, giggling up at their lover and beckoning him to join them. They tried not to think about the fact that he’d never see them again— how they’d never see him again.
“In another life we could have…” he doesn’t finish, trailing fingers over the petals at his side.
He rests his hands on their shoulders, squeezing. He stopped and stared at them—
He stopped. Stared hard at the body on Freelancers bed. Gavin had come over as soon as he’d gotten the text that Freelancer had had a nightmare.
There was a growing puddle of blood and his lovers face… It was unrecognisable.
“An incubus… how quaint. I did warn them, you know. I warned the pathetic little worm too… they just don’t listen, do they?”
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maple-tales · 3 years ago
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hi there! I just discovered your blog and I absolutely love it!! and your post about laventon comforting the reader after volo’s betrayal has me 👀 so how do you think cyllene would react in that same kind of situation? thanks so much- have a lovely day! -⛈
Anon...your brain...
This was originally going to be headcanons, but the first line I typed kinda just...turned into a little drabble. Hope you don't mind!
Post-game spoilers under the cut! And I hope you have a lovely day too! <3
Cyllene is never startled; she's too composed for that. But she's certainly caught off guard when the door to her office flies open without a knock preceding it. She looks up from her paperwork, fully intending to scold whoever would be brazen enough to barge in on her, but she stops short when she sees the state you're in. Your hair is a mess, you're covered in scrapes and marks that will surely turn into bruises, and the expression she's faced with now is perhaps the most devastated one she's ever seen.
Just as your name starts to form on her lips, you burst into tears. Cyllene stares at you for a moment, letting out sobs that trail into ragged gasps, before snapping herself back to reality and approaching you as one would a wounded pokémon.
"What happened?" Cyllene asks, her fingertips just brushing your arm. That only makes you sob harder. You sink to your knees in the middle of her office, dissolving into a puddle of tears. Cyllene kneels next to you, gently guiding your head to her chest.
You choke everything out between hiccupping sobs, explaining how Volo used you, and worse, had planned to get rid of you entirely. As your story goes on, Cyllene's anger deepens. She keeps her exterior cool, as always, allowing the smallest crack in her façade by way of her furrowed brow and steely gaze which she fixes on the doorway.
"I put the village—all of Hisui in danger by helping him," you whisper against Cyllene's tearstained uniform. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. If I had, I never would have—"
"That's enough," Cyllene says softly. She presses you closer against her, feeling more than hearing your shuddering sigh. "You're hurt. You need to come to the medical ward right away, and I'll have the professor see to your pokémon."
You agree hoarsely, and Cyllene presses a kiss to your cheek in a rare show of affection outside of her quarters or yours before getting you to your feet and helping you to the medical ward. She leaves Peselle and the other Medical Corps members to fuss over you and leaves your injured pokémon with a very concerned Laventon. There's no sense in going to visit you now—you'll be being treated. She'll come back later to ensure that she doesn't get in the way.
In the meantime, however, Cyllene has orders to deliver to the Security Corps about tracking down a certain member of the Ginkgo Guild.
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virtue-and-beneviolence · 3 years ago
Text
High enough
Sanzu ft. Kakucho
Warnings: idk 8.5/10 sad? virtue is back on her depressing streak so it's dark. Come listen to this for the mood n inspiration that started this. Discussion of drugs/overdose
almost 1K, if that matters to you
The bathroom tiles were stinging cold against Sanzu’s thighs and the porcelain rim of the tub dug painfully into his neck. He’d be rather uncomfortable, that is, if he could process his sense of touch properly right now. His ears throbbed with his heartbeat as his eyes desperately darted around the room, past empty capsules and ground pills, discarded bottles, and the shower curtain he’d ripped down in a manic fit.
He squinted as if it’d make his wobbling vision any clearer, as if it’d summon what he needed most. But of course, the large house was empty. Like a prisoner, he confined himself to this place that once represented the happiness he never thought he’d deserve, let alone have. He stumbled through the halls unsteadily, praying to gods he didn’t believe in just to see wisps of your form, hear your laugh even if he knew it was a trick of the substance of the hour.
Sanzu dragged his hand down his face and saw it glisten in the fluorescent light with tears he didn’t know he was crying. There was a steady drip in the back of his mind. Each drop falling through the clouds of his mind and down his back. He shivered involuntarily. Looking down at his hands again, the puddle he was sat in suddenly flooded his spotty senses.
Right. The water was on. After a moment of willing his heavy body to move, he reached to stop the flow of water. He stood and lowered himself t-shirt and boxer clad in the lukewarm water as the displaced fluid cascaded over the edge and flooded the room. Powders scattered on the floor dissolved into the discarded water that swept bits of tinfoil away.
Sanzu sniffed tears away and swiped at his nose to leave a bright red streak. Copper tinged his tongue. He sunk suddenly in the water, shirt billowing up and water spilling loudly over. Before he knew it, he was screaming half underwater but through it all that’s when he heard it. It was soft. Ethereal.
“Zuzu?”
But it wasn’t real. He knew by now that no matter how high he got he’d never hear that voice again. It was a trick of the mind, conjuring what he craved to further torment himself at the loss that plagued him daily.
“Zuzu?!”
Sputtering, he came up for air. It was so clear. Too clear. The panic in your voice was so evident. Fuck, fuckfuckfcuk, had it done it? Had he crossed the divide to see you one last time?
A featherlight touch, radiant like a sun ray graced his cheek and Sanzu looked up into ethereal orbs full to the brim with raw fear. “Zu what are you doing?” He was fully sobbing now. Pressing a soaking hand over the sensation on his cheek, he choked on another sob.
Sanzu was stunned to silence, save the body wracking breaths he heaved. Specter-like eyes softened in understanding. “Haru…” He reached for your figment, tears mixed with the blood from his nose and ran into his mouth. Your apparition tried to wipe the mixture away with an unmistakable expression of heartbreak on your face.
“I…you…I’did it. You’re ‘ere…” His voice broke. “You’re finally here…” He slurred the words.
I’ve missed you every second, with every part of me. It felt like my soul was ripped from my body when you left. I can’t live without you. I couldn’t stand to live without you. I had to see you again. I had to. I had to see you. My everything, the angel that saved me…it should have been me, y/n. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.
He wanted to chant the words, say all the things he couldn’t when you were here with him. He needed to sob his ‘sorry’s and ‘thank you’s into your soft hair one last time. But the words wouldn’t come.
“Baby, you shouldn’t have done this for me,” The voice crackled with emotion like a staticky radio in his ears. Sanzu felt warmth where the ghost of a kiss met his forehead, “You’re not supposed to follow me like this, Haru.”
“Donn leavf…” Black spots prickled in his sight as everything faded. “B’by…no’gain”
“Zuzu, hey! Haru stay with me?” Your panicked voice was fading. Everything sounded as if it were underwater. Warbled and marbled, like dust swirling at the surface, too light to sink and never quite making it to him. Sanzu was plunging into blackness, sinking from the anchor in his chest, the heavy words sitting in his lungs that he’d never be able to tell you.
“Haru! Oi, Haru!”
“S’far ‘way, cmback…” Sanzu’s sight had fully blackened. Too far gone to either feel or hear the garbled words he spoke into the now bloodied water pinking the bath, he steadily sunk as your form of light faded with his consciousness.
The sound of the door being slammed open minutes ago and the feeling of his ragdoll body being hoisted from the water was lost on him. “Haruchiyo, you bastard, stay with me!” Kakucho’s voice, gruff with shock pleaded at the motionless figure. Kakucho rolled the limp man on his side and let water flow from the smaller man’s mouth. His friend was hardly breathing, if he was at all. Kakucho couldn’t hear much outside of the adrenaline forcing his heart to beat resoundingly in his ears. His knees were soaked in cooling water, pink from Sanzu’s still bleeding nose. “Oi, Sanzu!” He shouted this time, beginning to search for a pulse. “You fucking idiot, you can’t die on me!”
No pulse.
Fuck.
“Haru, she’d never forgive me. You can’t die like this.”
...
Ye um here's the finished thing and, uh fuck it @sano-obsessed i sent you the draft in the middle of the night, here's the ending. I hope it lived up to yesterday's sanzu angst-pocalypse.
Masterlist
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