Yo. Passing by, I love your sketches and art.💗💓💖💓💖💓💘💓💓💖💓💖💓💖💓💓💖💓💓💖💓💓💖💓💖
I see all the lines and even the lines you spent hours on, I love it. You’re doing amazing. I hope in the future we can pass by again. Never give up. Even if I barely know you, your sketches inspire me. Keep going💕💕💞💞💞💓
If you like Volo or Emmet, you’ve got a bigass forehead. Fivehead having ass and no choes. No money. No bitches. No motion. No love, and your grandmamy hates you. Fuck you.
Who knew those two would create an empire out in the rubbles of a dying world? I didn’t. 
They don’t even knew the Wen Kamuy will turn on them the second their backs turn. I’ve given them multiple chances, but even then, they refuse to accept my help. Nothing I do is ever enough for those two. All they want, is more and more. The greed is corrupting them. Although…. I would be a liar if I were to dismiss their behavior from the start.
I was there at their birth. I will be there for their death.
Two cities of the same coin.
██ ████, not to say I hate them, but this is not my descendants that my children from eons ago had made. They are my descendants. They have my exact eyes and my blood runs through them, but they refuse to be pure in their lives. They refuse to give mercy to those who beg for it. Murdering and slaying all those who dare try to even speak about their wrongdoings.
They are no better than the Wen Kamuy themselves.
Who dare calls them kings when they are mere monsters in human disguise?
I’m tired.
Arceus I’m tried.
How long to do I have to, “Seek out all Pokémon” for you? I don’t even know how old I am anymore.
It’s been eons.
2 Million years in the making and what have I achieved for you? Have all my work been for naught? Have I been nothing more than a fool?
cw: 18+ content, smut, afab reader and terminology, short, pre and post Flare Lysandre exploration,
pairing: Lysandre/Reader
summary: Sex with XY-era Lysandre compared to ZA-era Lysandre.
You clung tightly to your lover as he rutted into you harshly. Your bodies were drenched with sweat, which dripped onto the crimson, silken sheets beneath. His grip was near painful as he held your ankles in a position. Blue eyes filled with fiery determination. He was merciless in his thrusts— burying himself entirely to the hilt before nearly pulling himself back out at a breakneck pace. He kept going and going, ramming himself into the deepest part of you.
His orange hair, so usually immaculately styled, as a mess of flames atop his head. His beard scratched at your neck as kisses were peppered along your jawline. You cried out his name, begging for him. Begging for what? You had been so angry with him, yet now you could hardly remember. You just wanted him to keep rutting into your poor body. His forehead pressed to your own, mumbling affectionate words. His hand threw your leg over his shoulder to instead bring his hand down. The pad of his thumb pressed onto your clit, rubbing it with an expertise of your body. A cry escaped you before you felt yourself awash with pleasure. Calling out his name— Lysandre gazed down at you with an intense expression.
“Such beauty… This is why you must stay at my side,” he spoke with finality, “Soon, all beauty will be eternal.”
~
Fingers interlocked as he rocked his hips gently. You tightened your grip on his hand, watching his good eye squeeze close. He mumbled again about just how tight you were. The pace was steady and mindful, almost desperate to make the feeling last. You wrapped a leg around his waist, leaning back against the bed. You both needed to be quiet— staying in a hotel and whatnot. He ground himself inside you, clearly trying to please you more than himself. Your toes curled. The two of you found each other's lips as a kiss was sealed. It was hardly anything more than chaste, but emotions swirled within the connection.
His white hair was all over, making you bring your free hand up to soothe the strands down, feeling the soft texture. You mumbled his name with pure adoration. He cried your own with the same fervour. Your eyes locked with his pale one. Such love was pouring out from it. His hips moved quicker, seemingly growing ever more desperate to help you find purchase. Your hand was freed from his hold as he moved to lavish your clit with attention. The electric shock of pleasure came from how he ground himself right into your deepest part in time with his rubbing. It was no long until your walls clasped down on his length as your body was awash in the orgasmic high. His name left your lips again— The identity L had begun to reclaim in a new light.
“You're still so beautiful,” he whispered into your ear, beard tickling the lobe, “With you at my side, I know I will never lose myself again. I adore you, my dearest.”
