Octavia R63 Selfcest

Title: Love Unto Myself In B-Minor <- temporal name for now (Pleasures of Thy Own In B-Minor)

Tags: Romance, Random, Alternate Universe (NOT comedy! srs bizness)

Category: Mature, Sex

Cover image: https://derpiboo.ru/45088

Short desc: ASD

Long desc: ASDASD

A/N:Written in an alternative universe with the concept, “All ponies are born as both filly and colt, and they are boundto be together.” Just did this so I could avoid writing a tedious explanation as to why there are two Octavias there.

“Home at last! That was quite an exhausting day, I must say.”

The two ponies walked through the open door, revealing their sights in embrace of the lights. A grey stallion with a purple clef as cutie mark and a perfectly tidy, styled-back mane, topped off by a crimson-red bow tie around his neck, was the first one to enter. He carried a pretty big, black box on his back, curved in such a way that it almost looked like a deformed bottle with a spoon on top of it.

As the lights became clearer, a second pony was engulfed by them. A slightly smaller mare, bearing the same properties as the stallion in front of her; grey, purple clef as cutie mark, and perfectly-styled, although significantly longer mane. The only other noticeable difference apart from the gender was her bow tie, which held beared the same shape, but was in a light pink instead. She too carried a black box of similar appearance on her back, just a tiny bit smaller, fitting to her size.

Apart from the permanent attributes and possessions, though, another significant, temporary state set them apart. “If you say so…” the mare grumbled, eyes narrowing away from the stallion. Pretending he didn’t hear anything, and half-way believing himself too, said stallion continued walking into the house with a small grin plastered on his face.

They stepped into the living room, walking towards a set of two small, dark metal constructions. Taking the box down from his back and putting it onto the floor, the stallion put his hooves onto two golden metal clasps. They sprung up, and one hoof lifted the top of the box up, revealing its content: an antique yet perfectly well looked after cello, about one head length larger than the owner. Smiling at his pride, the stallion brought it out and put it onto the metallic cello stand, the small end pin being stuck into a small, carved-out hole.

He closed the box and looked at the mare, now for the first time fully aware of her unnaturally flat expression. “Uhm, Octavia?” he started, concerningly raising an eyebrow. “Is everything okay with you?”

Closing her own box, she said, still staring down at the box, “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine, Octavio.” Without another word, she turned around and walked towards the kitchen. Scratching the back of his head, unsure what to say or do, he followed Octavia.

She opened the fridge and brought out two perfectly fine, yet casually boring-looking hayfry sandwiches out, and put them on two plates. Then she picked up one with her mouth, carefully set it onto the table, and silently began to eat, eyes not flickering away from the sandwich for even a split second.

With a suppressed sigh, Octavio repeated her actions, and sat down across from her at the table. He gazed at her, trying to gain her attention by just staring at her for long enough. It must’ve been minutes before he realized it was to no avail. “Octy, please, what’s wrong?” he asked eventually.

“I said I’m fine,” Octavia explained in a simple, monotone notion, still not looking away from her dinner.

“Don’t give me that,” Octavio replied, a little surprised at his harsher than intended tone. He calmly continued, “We’ve been married to each other for years now. You can tell me anything you want, and you know that. Come on, smile for me! It hurts me to see you in such a state.”

Octavia grunted. “I said, I’m. Fine.” She grimaced, and sped up her eating speed.

Sighing deeply, fully aware of the battle he was bound to lose, Octavio pushed the plate with the untouched sandwich towards his wife. “You can have mine. I’m not that hungry anyway.”

For the first time their eyes met, as Octavia shot up from her own food and pierced her own gaze into her husband’s one for a brief moment, before continuing eating in silent wrath. It was a clear message, and Octavio understood it immediately. Yet the curiosity got the better of him.

“By Celestia,” he exclaimed, curving his two forelegs upwards in a questioning and demanding manner, “what is wrong with you?! You haven’t acted this weird since… I can’t even remember.”

Octavia’s face deformed into a malignant expression and she her eyes started to get wet, as she started whimpering quietly.

Her husband rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, don’t start crying now.”

She shot up from the table, slamming her hooves onto it, making the plates shake violently. “WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO INSENSITIVE?!” she screamed directly into his face. Without waiting for anything like a response she put her hooves back to the ground and ran away, heavily sobbing.

Seconds later, the forceful noise of a door being rammed shut echoed through the house.

Left at the table sat a stunned Octavio, mouth wide-opened, unable to comprehend what just happened. He looked at the fallen-apart sandwiches, shattered from the disruption.

Snapping out of his stupor, he got up, and hushed towards the bedroom door. Taking a deep breath as he halted before it, he hesitantly raised a hoof, and carefully knocked on the wood twice.

Silence followed—expected but still building up a void in his stomach.

He reached out for the door knob. Despite his rational mind practically screaming at him not to do it, he slowly turned it sideways until a barely-audible clicking noise could be heard. The door was opened and revealed a shivering Octavia cowering on the bed sideways, turned away from the door.

and then the story continues like,he goes to the bed, asks what’s wrong, sensible this timeshe says he said something mean or other at practice and thought he hated herpassionate, apologizing kissSEXfalling asleep in each other’s embraceI wish I could somehow add something to make this entire R63 selfcest thing not feel completely pointless. shoot ideas if you have any