DollyDeparted
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But she felt her face burning. And his face was dark, too, probably from shock or exertion, but it still struck her, almost as much as the the ghost of his tears. She twisted her mouth in indignation. She was supposed to be a feared necromancer, a vicious soldier in this ritualistic battle, not some dumb teenage girl with a dumb teenage girl bleeding heart. Even if how Apollo currently looked was totally, infuriatingly satisfying. Open, exposed, raw, finally knocked down from that high, gilded throne, someone she could actually level with, someone whose blood she could mix with her own.
Apollo opened his mouth. But nothing came out, just ragged breaths. His hand, the one not holding his rapier, knuckles bruised purple and palms damp with sweat, raised to grab her hip. It was tense, as though preparing to push her off or to dig in his claws.
She made a frustrated sound. Oh, for fuck's sake.
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Graves phantom strikes Apollo mid-ritual. It all devolves from there--and then, somehow, gets better. -
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It wasn't long when a shadow stopped over her. But she already knew it was Apollo because she could smell his cologne from a mile away: vanilla and cinnamon and the rich smoke of a summer bonfire. She would hand him one thing: he smelled better than any of the other boys at Blackmore—but that wasn't a high bar to clear.
She looked up. He looked down. His outfit was simple and fastidious but clearly high-end. Gold jewelry glittered at his collarbone, shown off by the deep window of his unbuttoned top, underneath his rich, brown jacket. She hated when he dressed like that. It made her think of biting that throat, hard enough to rip out a mouthful of blood and pride. She had to look away. Back to the cigarette at hand.
Apollo asked, "Killing yourself in the gutter?"
"How I choose to kill myself isn't any of your business."
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Apollo and Graves go and see a movie together.
Series
- Part 2 of blotting papers
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"I don't think you've seen me fence before."
"Nope."
"Well, now you have. I'm sure you were impressed." He didn't hide the expectant tilt of his voice and form, leaning close enough to press her into him. He was in search of praise, both verbal and physical.
"Oh," she shrugged mildly. "It was okay."
"Just okay?" He recoiled, grip loosening. He knew fishing for both compliments and kisses from Darcy was an uphill battle; it was one of those things you had to let occur naturally. But he still went for it anyway, because it was in his nature, too.
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In a life together, indulgences have consequences. -
and one day i'll lay next to you in a beautiful coffin built for two by DollyDeparted
Fandoms: Deadlock (Video Game)
24 Jul 2026
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So, he now had Graves' revamped notebook, and a long evening of unproductivity before him. Alone in his dorm room, he was stranded amongst the rest of Blackmore dazzling themselves for a dance that will mean nothing in the long-run, shirking their time and energy.
Apollo wondered if Graves would be in attendance. Then he scoffed to himself. Not a chance. That did, however, tell him what he could do this evening.
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Apollo, plans hijacked by a prom he neither cares for nor attends, decides to return a missing binder. Somehow, this ends with him digging up a grave with his crush. Life has its ways.
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- Part 1 of blotting papers
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“Thanks. I really owe you one,” Lie said, rubbing his wrist gratefully. “Hey, if anyone out there starts giving you trouble, just scream and I’ll introduce them to my fist.”
“I don’t scream.” It was the first time in this whole interaction that Adam sounded genuinely put out.
Lie thought for a moment. “Then whistle, and I’ll come.”
Adam made an amused sound. “You are not an attack dog, are you?”
“I could be, just for you.”
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This place has no shortage of freaks, and this guy is only adding to the roster. Large steel bolts stick out of his broad shoulders, lighting up the room with bright green sparks every few seconds. His left hand is pale, covered in tattoos of strange runes, interrupted by stitches that surround his wrist and lead to an arm that looks almost like it’s decaying, the skin grey and dull, another silver bolt protruding next to the elbow. He picks up the glass with fingers that are twined in barbed wire, and as he tips his head back to sip at it, his long black hair slips back, showing bolts in his neck and stitches along his mouth. He sets the glass down with a soft clink, and his hair falls over his face once again.
Pocket knocks back the last gulp of their rye and coke. Yep, another freak for the collection. Not that that’s a bad thing in Pocket’s eyes. They’d much rather be around freaks than the type of people Maximilian associated with.
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It's the night before the ritual, and Pocket has a few drinks to calm their nerves. They end up getting more than a little acquainted with one of the weirder freaks in the Hidden King's alliance.
Bookmarked by DollyDeparted
01 Aug 2026
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There’s something strange — and a tiny bit unsettling — about seeing the guy who chewed her out two days ago for not colour-coding their lab charts lie face down and motionless on the Cursed Apple’s asphalt.
“Friend of yours?” Billy asks.
“He’s my classmate,” Graves says. She stares down at Apollo’s body, a little dazed. “Or, well. He was.”
(Darcy Graves blows up her lab partner. Things, surprisingly, go uphill from there.)
Bookmarked by DollyDeparted
21 May 2026
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The opposite of a weight. by DEV0TIONS for Codedisea, catcookies
Fandoms: Deadlock (Video Game)
07 Jul 2026
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It begins with a drawing — quick, nothing Apollo expects to matter. Darcy keeps it anyway, folds it into her pocket, and suddenly they're tangled in something neither of them meant to start.
They keep ending up in the same places: a cemetery, a courtyard, a classroom where they're paired against their will. Each collision feels like coincidence until coincidence becomes a pattern and the pattern becomes harder to walk away from.Bookmarked by DollyDeparted
21 May 2026
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"And then there's a customized copy of PONY PALS, a gift to you on your 14th birthday from the slippery Mr. Strider. Each page contains lovingly hand-written commentary on the deeds of this intrepid young horse. Later, about halfway through the book, rather than see the gag through to the bitter end, Strider began pasting over entire pages of original text with his own completely rewritten version of the story, while keeping all the chapter titles. His revision is a tough, emotionally draining read. But it's cathartic, in all the worst ways possible.
He tends to get carried away with his projects."Note: this work is an altered book, and it plays on the physical relationship between the original pages and the edited text. As such, it's presented as a series of images. Reading the images is the only way to get the full experience, but I'm aware that some people can't/don't want to read it that way. So if that's the case, you can skip to chapter 13, which is a text-only version of the story, including rough descriptions of the most important illustrations.
Originally posted on detective-pony.tumblr.com- Language:
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Bookmarked by DollyDeparted
30 Aug 2018
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Feng Min is not having the greatest time. Luckily, Anna comes to her rescue.
Bookmarked by DollyDeparted
24 Jul 2018