#early sunsets ocs
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fantomplant · 8 months ago
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my loves
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irequirealobotomy · 8 months ago
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i have a soft spot for bullets so i made some marcelo art while listening to it! this song gets me all melancholy every time.
teen marcleo be upon ye!
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aureliaen · 7 months ago
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*subjects you to my and @robertdenirowap's ocs against your will*
will and henry high school au, they're gay and terribly, unbelievably sad
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kobylkaaa · 1 year ago
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ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆゚.*・。゚
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that-raccoon · 6 months ago
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this piece is based off of the oldest art I made that still have from 14 years ago. see the original under the cut :>
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14 year old me would be happy with my progress over the years I think.
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groupalpha · 2 years ago
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(More of comic under cut)
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EB: Huh? A... hologram broadcast request? This isn't a name registered in my Memory Conflux...
I suppose I should answer this in case of it being important though...
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EB: HUH?!
Relax, this is surely normal, everything is going to be okay. If anything goes awry, I can ask my creators-
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EB: Oh! Hello? I'm fairly new here, so I'm sorry if there seems to be-
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???: GOSH THESE ANCIENTS ARE MAKING IT HARDER AND HARDER EACH TIME TO GET IN CONTACT!
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???: Oh! There we go! Finally I managed to break through.
Ah, now we can introduce ourselves.
EB: OH! Are you another iterator like myself?
EPS: Quite correct on that one. I am Extracted Prism Sunsets, or Prism to shorten it's simplicity.
EB: Ah, well, I'm Endless Beyond... and I suppose that Beyond would be a good way to shorten it.
EPS: Noted. Is there a reason you didn't contact any of us?
EB: No, er... Well... I did ask, but my creator told me to focus on my work first, then we'd discuss the group.
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EPS: OF COURSE THEY DID! Ugh I'm getting so tired of this!
EB: Um... excuse me?
EPS: My apologies, but the Ancients have been getting more and more secretive. First it was them not letting us know we could communicate, then Stories communications being shut off, then with each new iterator getting made they get harder and harder to contact! Soon I bet there's going to be an iterator that doesn't even know we exist.
EB: I see...
Would you like to talk about it while we work?
EPS:... I don't see why not. Besides, it wouldn't hinder your progress that your Ancients want you to do.
Part 2
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definatelymrhyde · 7 months ago
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ITS SO AMAZING!!!!
Hey, hey guys guess what? New ref sheet for Elias Wright!
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I was kinda starting to hate the old one and really needed to fix a bunch of the colors so jskvkek made a new one teehee :3
Let's see.. I tweaked all the colors at least slightly, with bigger changes to his vest. I also fixed his skin tone so it's less desaturated (about time honestly, I'm sorry Elias 💔) and I also made his eyes a bit lighter and more yellowish. And!!!! I gave him a little vest pocket watch bc idk the autism is strong and it yearns for pocket watches.
Ofc, feel free to tweak colors as you see fit but yeah, new colors, yippee :D also very happy bc my style has improved smm, I love how I draw him so much more now :3
(Also, as a bonus, two little doodles)
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The angry crierrrr, I love him hehe, need to branch out with expressions more. Also, this purple pen? New loml. I've also been really digging front facing drawings lately, clearly.
Anyways!! Hope y'all like him :33
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velidewrites · 2 months ago
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“You’d use my own weapon against me?”
More on Vermilion Vanserra, Sixth Son of Autumn, Courtier and Emissary, playboy and an overall walking disaster:
• While the fire magic of his brothers involves harnessing the raw, living element, Vermilion can mold and shape it entirely to his will. In his hands, fire becomes like clay for him to play with. By day, he uses his power for weaponry, with the fire whip as his weapon of choice. By night… well, you know how the saying goes.
• Despite his charm and charisma, Vermilion is the absolute worst diplomat, deeming his formal responsibilities “impressively dull,” a “waste of good wine,” and opting to spend his time in common taverns instead.
• Vermilion is an extremely skilled artist, with his own fire serving him as paint. Using his magic, he can melt it into smooth, silky colors that craft the most vibrant masterpieces on canvas. Vermilion has a private art studio in the Summer Court that no one in his family knows about.
• Him and Lucien are closest in age and grew up together. In their early youth, the two had formed a temporary alliance, using their good looks and charm to steal all the noble ladies away from the other brothers at balls and formal events.
• Vermilion was appointed as Autumn’s emissary in Lucien’s stead after the brutal murder of Jesminda. He was the one who held Lucien down during her execution, knowing that if he’d let him go, Lucien would have faced consequences far worse than anything Beron had ever done to his sons before. Despite his best intentions that day, Vermilion has never forgiven himself.
• Aside from Lucien, Vermilion is the only son whose name was not chosen by Beron. The Lady of Autumn decided on the name upon seeing the vibrant shade of his red hair for the first time, which reminded her of a bleeding sunset.
Vermilion is my OC, please do not use him in any works! A MASSIVE thank you to @climbthemountain2020 for being my beautiful perfect art consultant
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ladylokianna · 3 months ago
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My father's daughter
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Pairing: no one, basically Aemond being a dad (and a husband).
Warning: nothing serious i guess. A bit of swearing, an obviously ooc Aemond being a protective dad, Vhagar being a protective great–grand mother, fluff.
AU oneshot in which the brotherly Aegond bond is based on the book and in which Aemond killed Daemon.
Introducing some of my Ocs, of which i'm very proud: Aerenys, his wife, and four of their seven children.
(Aemond here is around 36 years old, his daughters, two ocs of mine, are 16 and 11. Aegon, Daeron and Granny V involved.)
Words count: 3,6 k
A/N: i've checked it countless times, but if there were any mistake, i'm sorry in advance.
Translation from HV:
Kirimvose : thank you
Iksā gevie, kepa: you are beautiful, dad
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"Can't we do without it?"
"Shhh!!! Can you please be quiet? If he wakes up, we're in trouble!"
"We'll be in trouble anyway."
Holding tightly the satchel, the younger of the two girls nodded, watching her older sister sneak into her parents' chambers through the secret passageway, the one immediately next to their bed: leaning in a little, she barely caught a glimpse of his hair, hearing his relaxed and regular breathing, hoping he wouldn't wake up just then.
Asterya tried to focus hoping to quickly find what she was looking for even in the darkness of the room: on the low table as well as on the dresser there was nothing but maps and notes, and rummaging again through the drawers was out of question.
Damn, why hadn't she thought of that before?
A sudden rustling from the bed made her freeze on the spot, but fortunately her father had only rolled over in his sleep. And that's when she saw it on the nightstand.
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Mornings like those, in which the cold breath of winter had given way to spring sunshine, were ideal for training, or for riding.
Ser Emeric walked out into the large courtyard in front of the huge gate, ready to take up duty after the night watch, just in time to see someone rushing out of the gate: it was not uncommon to see the prince going out for an early morning ride, usually preceding a long patrol over the city on his dragon, so he paid no particular attention to it.
Wandering his eyes over the sky, tinged in the vibrant hues of the dawn, he released a sigh: what a nice morning it was.
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What a fucking morning it was.
Ser Emeric swallowed hard before stopping in front of the double door of the Council room, uncertain whether to knock or not. Behind the intricate carving of the wood, his worst nightmare.
"Fuck. Oh fuck. Fuck, no, i can't do it."
Of all the things that could have happened during his shift, that was definitely the worst since he began his journey as a White Cloak, and now he also had to report it to the most fearsome man in the realm, the same man he tried to avoid with all his strength.
Prince Aemond.
The former Regent, the Terror of the Trident, the man who killed the infamous Daemon Targaryen.
He knocked three times with a lump in his throat: he could be dead before the sunset, hanged at the Keep's wall by his own guts like a common thief or feeded to a dragon –or worse, feeded to his dragon– and in all of this, he was only twenty and yet to live.
What a fucking death, eaten by that damned beast...
"Come on in." answered the king.
Once inside, his eyes turned immediately to Aemond, while Aegon looked up on him, settling aside for a second the parchment in his hands.
"What is all this fuss? Oh, good morrow Ser Emeric."
His sight was darting from Aegon and Daeron, to Aemond. The first two sitting at the table, the latter standing next to a window, scanning the outsides, seemingly indifferent to his presence.
Aegon saw him swallowing in discomfort, droplets of sweat running down his forehead.
"What's the matter?"
"I... i have... i have to speak to... i have to speak to his... his highness." Ser Emeric stuttered. The poor guy cleared his throat, wincing when Aemond turned to him, inquisitive and menacing even if he was dead silent as always.
"Then speak! Did the cat got your tongue?" Aegon followed his sight, noticing the gaze Aemond had been giving him since he turned. "Uuh, i see."
His brother's gaze, already intimidating in his youth, had worsened with the age.
"The... the princesses, your highness."
Aemond arched an eyebrow, his good eye still staring at the guard.
If i survive this, i swear i'll...
"Which ones are you referring to?" asked Aegon, leaning back and crossing his hands over his stomach, amused. Aemond did not seem to share the same opinion: he finally ignored the courtyard, crossing his hands behind his back in his usual manner, clearly annoyed.
"You may have not noticed, but i'm everything than patient." his tone, cold and scoffed, made the poor guard to tremble again.
"In the name of the Seven, Aemond, let him speak. To which princess you are referring to?"
"I'm... ehm... i'm referring to princess Asterya and princess Alicent, your grace."
Although he did not have a favourite among his children, it was obvious to everyone that his daughters were his weak point, the lights of his life: Asterya, his second born but his first daughter, was the one with whom he shared the deepest bond: skilled with swords and daggers, excellent with the High Valyrian, a proficient student of history and philosophy. Basically, as his wife loved to say, his female counterpart.
Her twin sister Helaenys was the opposite: calm and poised, she loved indulging in Helaena's company and was as good at embroidery as she was at throwing daggers.
Arianne, named in honour of a maternal cousin who died in infancy, loved to dance and did so whenever she could, especially with her uncle towards whom she had, reciprocated, a sincere affection: Aegon had taught her to shoot with a bow and she had an excellent aim.
Alicent, the youngest of his seven children, was born with the same characteristics as her paternal grandmother (even if her twin brother was born with hair and eyes like a Targaryen) and named after her in her honour; she possessed a crossbow and like her siblings she was a skilled dragon-rider and above all, like Asterya, highly intolerant of rules.
His most beloved children, although Aemond would never admit it, even under torture.
"My daughters what?"
"The princesses are… are nowhere to be found..."
And here it is, that gaze: even without his left eye, Prince Aemond was intimidating as hell.
Please Gods, please give me a fast and painless death. Fast, at least.
"Ah, here's who got your eye patch, Aemond. This is a fortress, for fuck's sake, what do you mean they're nowhere to be found?" replied Aegon.
"What about the armory, or the kennel?" interjected Daeron, sensing the storm approaching.
"No, my prince. They're not at all in the castle..."
"For how long now?" was Aemond's question, interrupting Ser Emeric.
"A stable boy noticed them on your horse during the last changing of the guard..."
The last changing of the guard had taken place shortly after dawn, Aemond reasoned, hours before. Five, at least.
"You're telling me that not just one, but two of my daughters vanished from the Keep several hours ago and you are warning me only now, after all those fucking hours?"
In those hours, needless to say, he had searched for them in every wing of the castle, on every patrol path, in every niche. Ser Emeric looked away from Aemond, who began to mutter something in a language he cannot understand: something unpleasant for sure, judging by Aegon and Daeron's faces.
"I'm going to kill someone today, i can sense it...and it's not even midday, imagine that."
Aegon cleared his throat, trying to think up quickly a way to placate his brother before he could lose his temper, looking at his dominant hand already clutched on the hilt of his omnipresent sword, ready to draw it.
"Wi... with your permission, i'll... i'll leave immediately in their search."
"Yes, wise decision. I also send Ser Criston in search of the girls." Aegon nodded.
"No way." stated Aemond, fuming, feeling the headache already pounding in his skull. "You barely manage to find your cock in your trousers, let alone my daughters. You're dismissed, but i can assure you, Ser Emeric, we will talk about it later."
Ser Emeric did not make himself repeat it twice: he walked out of the council room as if he had The Stranger himself on his heels, leaving the three men alone.
"Woah, what was that?"
"Hm?"
"Who taught you to talk like that? I'm amazed, little brother!"
"Oh, shut up."
"Can i count on you for a healthy drink in my quarters after supper? Let's talk a little, come on."
"You know i'm not much of a drinker nor a talker, right?"
"Who cares? I'll drink and talk... and you'll listen."
"There will be no dinner for me if i don't get my girls home before Aerenys is back: i already know she'll kick my ass."
His wife had been away to her native castle for a fortnight due to family matters and she would return that afternoon with Helaenys and Arianne: with all the days to get into trouble, his daughters had decided to do it on the very day she returned to the keep.
"Don't worry, brother, they are smart, they have certainly avoided any danger."
"Daeron... you have spoiled my girls too much and here's the results."
"Like you haven't done the same since before they were even born."
"He's right, you know? And i wouldn't worry about your ass if i were you: Aerenys likes it too much, she won't do anything to you. And you'll see that the girls will be home in no time. You know, if it weren't for the fact that your faithful wife has always only had eyes for you and that Asterya is practically your female version –poor girl–, you'd say she's more my daughter than yours: what a temper she has. Well, indeed she's my niece."
"May the gods be merciful, that's the last thing i need." Aemond replied, taking his leave in between Aegon's laughs.
He summoned Ser Criston and a bunch of his most trusted guards.
"Ser Emeric told me they thought it was you, my prince." Ser Criston explained. "We questioned the stable boy and he says that she wore your clothes and she moved like you, she even mounted your horse like you do. Nobody asked her to remove the hood, they were sure it was you."
A frustrated groan escaped Aemond.
"It is beyond serious if they cannot tell a grown man from a sixteen year old girl." huffed upset. "My daughter is visibly shorter and thinner than me."
"As i say, no one dared to check under the cloak, my prince."
"We'll talk about this later. As for the guards, they have to pray that nothing has happened to my daughters or they will answer directly to me." warned Aemond. Once on the saddle, he noticed everyone in the courtyard were looking at him, and with a sudden gesture, he lowered the hood of his cape. "So you know who are you getting out of the keep. Now open the gate."
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Aemond pulled the reins suddenly forcing the horse to stop almost abruptly: at its protests, he leaned in to give two affectionate pats as if to apologise.
"Have you seen something, my prince?" questioned Ser Criston, turning back and flanking him, peering in his own direction.
In the heat of the moment he had not thought of Vhagar: she was not in her usual place. She usually liked a certain spot near the water, surrounded by trees but wide enough to allow her to move her wings as she wished, but he noticed that she had moved at least a hundred metres, which was unusual.
"Yes and no. I think i know where they are." after dismounting the horse, Aemond handed the reins to Ser Criston, with the order to return to the Keep. "Asterya surely left my horse somewhere near. I'm hoping to return with both of them before my wife's return or may the Gods be merciful with me."
He did not wait for Ser Criston to leave: he put on his hood again and walked through the trees. His horse was grazing peacefully in the shade of a tree, the reins secured to a sufficiently strong branch, and Vhagar was resting as usual: the air expelled through his nostrils was sufficient to stir the vegetation.
Smiling a little and approaching cautiously, he was determined to surprise his daughters without irritating his dragoness. Aemond reached out a hand and touched her: Vhagar opened her eyes wide, ready to incinerate anyone who dares threaten what she was protecting.
"Shh, it's me."
Her gaze immediately changed, and he heard her grunt, happy to see him.
"Hi baby." smiled Aemond, fondly stroking her snout. "Are my girls here with you?"
Indeed they were: Asterya walked barefoot on the shoreline, with only her tunic and her trousers -his trousers- gathered up to her calves to avoid getting them wet, while Alicent sat on the sand in the shadow of Vhagar's huge wing and had her back to him, reading aloud an old tales book in High Valyrian. On the ground, on a large blanket, Aemond recognised some of his clothes -his embroidered jerkin with the dragon shaped clasps and his cloak-, a couple of his books, a small basket with some leftovers and Asterya's boots.
"...i cannot decipher this last glyph." whined Alicent.
"How is it shaped?"
"It's like... it's like a chalice..."
"Rēko, rose." answered Asterya, without esitation.
Aemond smiled with pride.
"Kirimvose, my dear friend." he whispered shortly after, thanking Vhagar.
Both the stable boy and the guards were right when they say they mistook his daughter for him: dressed like that with her hair tied up like his, Asterya had all of them fooled. Perhaps she even would fooled him too.
They were right. Gods how he hated being wrong.
The icing on the cake was his usual eye patch -surely the thing Asterya had used to trick the guards- and the dagger he had gifted her for her tenth nameday, that she recklessly leaved near a book and out of her reach.
Careful enough not to be heard, Aemond found a way to sneak up behind Asterya, catching her by surprise and grabbing her by the waist with one arm. He intercepted her fist and easily stopped it, holding her so tightly she can barely move, finally revealing himself shortly after.
"Got you!"
Asterya stopped struggling as soon as she heard his voice, giving him a little slap on his arm in protest as he put her back down.
"Papa? For Gods' sake, what's wrong with you?"
Aemond smirked a little amused, but still angry, shedding his hood.
"Nice try with that fist, good job. You have to improve though."
"You scared her!" giggled Alicent, encircling his waist and resting her head on his stomach.
He smirked again, returning Alicent's hug and lowering his voice.
"Let's say it was my aim."
"How did you sneak so silently behind my back?" protested Asterya.
"Well, i'm quite seasoned than you, i trained you and i know exactly how you move. Besides, i told you countless times to not sneak out of the Keep, and yet you still disobey me. And what's worse, this time you brought your sister with you." Aemond retorts, returning the dagger to her. "This must stay always on you: you may not know when you have to use it, your life might depend on it. This time it was me, but what if there had been someone else in my place?"
"Vhagar would have protect us."
"What if she hadn't been there?"
"Papa, please, nothing's happened." sighed Asterya.
"Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady. You always have an answer for everything, mh? Fine. You are grounded: you cannot fly with your dragon for at least two weeks."
"Two weeks?"
"One for you, one because you took your sister with you. That seems like a more than reasonable amount of time, counting that your mother would confine you to your rooms. There are rules that exist for your safety too, sweetheart."
"But... you told me not to stroll around the city alone anymore, or to the woods, or alongside the river... and i didn't do it again!"
Gods, he still remembered that time she went to King's Landing with her older brother -both disguised as commoners- to the Kingswood with her dragon or worse, to the Blackwater river.
Better not think about it again.
"Good, since i don't want you to go to the city without someone."
"You disobeyed Grandma Alicent when you were little, i know it."
She was referring, most likely, to his attempts in the dragon pit and above all, to the Driftmark incident. She knew it so well, since it was a story almost as old as him.
"Yes, that's true. And i paid a far higher price than you will." Aemond admitted. There was no need to deny something so blatantly well knowed, not to his own daughter. With an istinctive gesture, he then removed his eye patch and the sapphire underneath shone in the sunlight: few had seen his wound, and until then his children had no idea how awful it was. Asterya gasped, then looked at it in astonishment, her eyes fixed not on the gem, but on the severed eyelids, how the lower eyelid had sagged a little, making it wider than the healthy eye, how the eyelids seemed like to bent inwards and how the eyebrow, also cut in two, no longer allowed hair to grow.
"Oh, papa..." she said, raising a hand towards his face, but she did not dare touch it, only merely looking at it. "Has mama ever saw it?"
"We've been married now for eighteen years, she knows everything about me." he replied, stroking her head with a smile.
"Can i see it too, daddy? Can i touch it?"
Aemond bent down a little, allowing Alicent to look at him as well.
"Be gentle, it hurts more than usual today."
Asterya cleared her throat, feeling guilty for having brought back certain memories.
"Does it hurt a lot?" she asked.
"Sometimes yes, sometimes i don't feel any pain." he answered, still bent towards the daughter.
"Iksā gevie, kepa." asserted Alicent.
"You are certainly far more beautiful than I am, my love, but thank you. Why don't you start collecting the books in the bag, sweetheart? I need to speak a little more with your sister."
"Are we going home already? Ugh!"
"Your mother's coming back, aren't you glad to see her? I personally can't wait, I missed her."
"Yes, but at home Septa Gwyn never leaves us in peace. Can we at least take a ride on Vhagar?"
"We'll see."
Aemond waited until Alicent had gone some distance before paying attention to his eldest daughter again.
"Why are you crying?" his good eye wandered over her face, trying to comprehend the reason. Then he hummed, understanding.
"Two weeks are fine, papa."
"Two weeks my dear, not a day more, i promise. I've made so much mistakes in my life and i've payed for all of them, but if losing an eye was and it still be a fair exchange for having Vhagar at my side, losing your mother or worse, you or one of your siblings is a price i will never be willing to pay for my sins. I can understand your craving for freedom, i really do. But you're a Targaryen princess, you're my daughter: if something ever occur to you because of my past, i could never forgive myself. You can always count on me if you want to stay alone for sometime, for i would accompany you everywhere, but my point is that it's dangerous to sneak out alone. You don't want your annoying father around you? I got it, but at least alert your brother, or your guard. Someone. You scare the hell out of me every time!"
"Sorry…"
"Few things more, Asterya, i'm not done: i've showed the secret passages to you and your siblings only for safety reasons and not for sneaking in my rooms while i'm sleeping. That book belonged to Aegon the Conqueror himself, and the sand might damage it so take good care. About this…" Aemond added, showing the eye-patch she took from his nightstand "...you can use my things, but not this. Anyway, i'll order the seamstresses to sew you comfortable clothes so that you no longer have to ransack my drawers to steal mine: it's not appropriate for a girl to do such things."
"I won't do it again dad, sorry."
Aemond tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek in a loving gesture.
"...your disguise would have fooled me too."
Asterya looked at him with a wide smile and with a deep affection in her eyes, hugging him tightly.
"You are not annoying." she said, standing on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on his scarred cheek. "And i will not ask anyone but you to accompany me, you will always be my first choice, papa, i love you."
For a moment she was again the little five year old girl who used to sneak in his rooms during thunderstorms, with her wide blue eyes seeking for his reassuring hug.
Aemond kissed her forehead, returning the embrace.
"Want to join for a ride?"
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fantomplant · 9 months ago
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my favorite emos
(this is kinda old so they look a lil different now lol)
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stardewfanficwriters · 1 month ago
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JANUARY REC LIST
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A nice summary of the things some of our members have been working on this month, as well as some interesting things we read along the way!
Please see AO3 for additional tags. Reader discretion is advised as always.
Release Me by @whatdoidosatoru - Sebastian/Female OC (M)
Just Desserts by @annetastic1981a - Sam/Sebastian (E)
Thaw by @phillypumpkin - Harvey/Player (G)
Euphoria by Angel_with_an_assbutt - Sebastian/Female OC (E)
Kalliope by @caelwynn - June/Female OC (T)
Mirror, Mirror by @kellycataclysm - Harvey/Female OC (E)
Murder in Stardew Valley by @writer-of-worlds - multi (T) (1/?)
Lavender Honey by @5cs-fanart-and-misc - Kent/Leah (E)
Haunting Your House, Nothing Left To Lose by @inkstainedheartbeats - Alex/Shane (M) (Stardew x Alien crossover)
So, Reddit... AITA? (SDV) Kent by @neetily - Kent/Female OC (E) (3/?)
Mine: Pajamas by spritedKnight - Sebastian/Female OC (E)
Coming Around Again by @eemamminy-art - Alex/Male OC (E) (27/69)
Shattered Earth by @aziminohi1992 - Lance/Female OC (E)
We'll Be Alright by @lily-alphonse - Marlon/Marnie (M) (2/5)
Frogs of Fall by @maggplays - Sebastian/Female OC (E)
False God by @nebraskashouse - Harvey/Female OC (E) (1/2)
Soldier On by @ababanerb - Sebastian/Female OC (Not Rated) (6/?)
late dawns, early sunsets by @benjineedssleep - Sam/Sebastian (M) (7/7)
The Love You Want by @orangemochafrapp - Sebastian/Female OC (E) (28/?)
Heartburn by @shortysus4 - Shane/Female OC (T)
It's Too Late to Turn Back Now... by @velvetlilith777 - Sebastian/Female OC (T)
Valley's Sanctuary by rustedgoldmc - Razmodius/Female OC (M) (80/?)
My Next Life As A Stardew Valley Villain by HerbyBones (Morris/Shane) (T) (3/?)
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clairesblouse · 8 days ago
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Whispers of the Sea │Chapter 12.
│Chapter 11・Chapter 12・Chapter 13
│Masterlist of "Whispers of the Sea" (Not finished)
│rafe cameron・Social Media AU / IRL 5.5k words.
│summary・"Whispers of the Sea" breathes life into forgotten memories through wistful poems and hidden truths. Drawn to it's words, Rafe finds himself chasing echoes of a past he can’t fully recall. The anonymous blogger is the childhood friend forgotten in time. Rafe searches for the pieces of a forgotten puzzle, trying to make sense of the storm brewing in his mind, while his heart fills with the poems of the girl he once adored.
│pairing・Ex-childhoodfriend!Rafe Cameron x Poet/Blogger!Female oc/reader
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Her soul and mind longed for the old days. She could still hear the echoes of her laughter in that empty house. It was as if life had lost its color. Sunsets looked colder, the cereal she ate every morning had no taste. Maybe this was what growing up felt like.
No one had prepared her for life, and maybe she never would be ready for it. It felt like walking along a path lit by candles, only for a sudden gust of wind to snuff out her guide. Just the thought that, at some point, she might end up alone made her chest tighten. Watching her parents go through this, seeing people who didn’t deserve to suffer in that way, broke her heart. It wasn’t just her family’s constant fight to stay afloat, it was everyone in Outer Banks, at the mercy of the rich, begging for scraps of stability.
Normally, she would go out for a walk, write, talk to her friends. But now, it felt like a train had run over her, leaving only an overwhelming nostalgia in its wake. She could feel the sun on her face through the curtains, untouched for days. A dull ringing in her ears reminded her that the house was anything but silent. Her parents’ indifferent voices had filled the space since early that morning. Now, the sun was setting. She was hungry. Too hungry. With almost no options, her feet carried her to the kitchen.
When her mother saw her, her expression shifted into something unreadable, a mixture of surprise, relief, and something else. Maybe sadness. None of them were okay.
“Honey” Her own voice came out sluggish, sticky. “I’m hungry.” If she hadn’t said it herself, she wouldn’t have understood the words. “Are you feeling alright?” her father asked. Their eyes met, and in his, she saw exhaustion. In hers, anger. She didn’t mean to, of course she didn’t. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel guilty for something beyond his control. But she wished he had told her sooner. She could have helped.
"Fine"
For the next five minutes, her presence became the center of attention. She walked to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, filled her glass to the brim, and sat on the other side of the kitchen island. She drank in silence.
"I thought you were hungry."
"I am." She closed her eyes for a second. "I think I’ll go for a walk."
"Where?"
"The beach." She said nothing more.
"I'll give you money."
"Mom, n—"
"Shut up." Her mother stepped closer, one hand on her shoulder, the other brushing against her face. Behind those tired eyes, she could still see her little girl. "Stop doing this to yourself. We know you. Go for a walk, eat something nice. Don’t worry about it. Everything’s going to be alright. We’ll be alright."
What if they weren’t?
She left as quickly as she had arrived.
The beach wasn’t far. In a blink, warm sand slipped into her shoes. She could hear the distant cries of seagulls blending with the laughter of children and the steady crash of waves, sounds she could listen to for the rest of her life. She lived right at the dividing line between the Kooks and the Pogues. That meant the beach was rarely a safe place. When families were enjoying their day, problems felt distant. But on surf afternoons or party nights, showing up there was a guaranteed visit to the police station. Because, of course, the Kooks were never the problem.
A ball rolled past her feet. And speaking of the devil, a group of boys she had gone to elementary school with ran by, shoving each other, throwing playful punches, laughing. Rich laughter. White, rich teeth. She hated them. Hated how their lives were planned out and secure. How just by existing, they never had to think about anyone but themselves.
She hugged herself. She had brought her small bag with only the essentials, her Polaroid camera, her journal, a pencil. But nothing felt worth writing about. She didn’t even have the energy to try. Only the sun disappearing behind the waves seemed worthy of capturing through the weak lens of her camera.
The first picture was blurry. The second, too bright. The third—perfect.
She waited for it to develop.
Not perfect.
Rafe.
Rafe?
She lifted her gaze.
And there he was. In her picture. And in front of her eyes. As if he had stepped straight out of a movie. His presence filled the space, just like always. Like he was the king of the world. He was smiling. And suddenly, the rich laughter and white teeth didn’t bother her as much. But something did. The sharp sting in her chest.
Had she, without realizing it, followed a silent plan to avoid him? To wait until their lives went separate ways, so that in the future, his existence would only be a vague memory. Something hovering between imagination and desire? A daydream to fill the emptiness in her life?
But he was real. Too real. Flesh and bone that would haunt her.
Without thinking, she took another picture. Two seconds later, Rafe was gone. She clearly was nothing but an invisible ghost in his world. His eyes. His important and ambitious eyes. She gathered the broken pieces of her heart from that beach and walked home, more shattered than before.
With a single shout, she let her parents know she was back. She dropped the money her mother had given her on the entryway table and took the same path she did every day, to her room. She laid the photos from that afternoon on her bed. Studied them. Picked up her phone, which had been charging. Opened the camera. She captured the moment.
In the center of it all was Rafe’s picture.
Like a star at the heart of a solar system.
And in the blink of an eye, the photo of the boy who ruled her poetry was now eternalized on her blog.
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jo's notes: hey haha. let me know what you think about whispers!! (the song has nothing to do with the chap, i just like it)
│whispers of the sea has a taglist! if you want to be added, let me know and keep interacting with the posts to stay on it!
taglist: @pinkyqily @frankoceanluvr11 @urbrunettebombshell @angelicameron @lovepaleandying
@littlefreak-liz @rafeswhoooreee @inthelibrarybtw @c1gsafterwhat @rafecameronswifeyy
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redsrooftopprincess · 6 months ago
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💚 Master Post 💚
✨ASK RULES✨
Asks closed for now. HOWEVER. The Bruiser has agreed to answer questions as long as you follow the rules and aren't a dick. 😁
So you've found your way here! Welcome welcome, from me and the Bruiser. 😁
Here you will find fics and headcanons about Big Red and occasionally the rest of the boys. All the boys, et al, are a combination of a lot of different canons, as well as my own personal headcanons. Visually, however, they are Bayverse because...
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(Thank you ILM, for all that you do. 🥵)
I have some spicy stuff, and I do repost things that are spicy. I will do my best to put warnings on anything that needs it, but if you see something that may trigger someone and there isn't a warning, please lmk so I can fix it.
Also, my style will occasionally change. I've never written narratively before now (just some poetry here and there), so congratulations! You get to watch me learn how to write in real time! 😅
That being said, I'm not your mommy (well, not *yours*, anyway 😏), so if you're a minor, GTFO. I'm responsible for neither your trauma, nor your deviancy, and that will not be changing. So either go away or don't get caught.
Anyway, without further guilding of my very tarnished lily.....
Links for joy and pain below the cut!
Character art for Jess (Red's princess), done by @truffle-draws-turtles 🥰
Gravity Fics
Raphael x Reader (Technically)
There is an overall story happening loosely and in out of order pieces that will eventually be cleaned up and combined into one. They are technically written with my OC, Jess, in mind (link to a bit about her below), but I have written them x reader and have done my best to make them gender neutral as much as I can. Expect continuity errors, which is why I'm posting them as individual fics, but they are posted in rough story order below.
Best Friends
Early
Nightmare
Damn it
Kintsugi
Stay
Nightmare Part 2
Soldier (Fem Reader) Part 1 . Part 2
Sunlight
Assassin (Fem Reader) Part 1 . Part 2 . Part 3 . Part 4 . Part 5
Coming Home (Fem Reader) Part 1, Part 2
Gravity - Part 1 . Part 2 . Part 3
Other Fics
Pumpkin Sugar Part 1 . Part 2 . Part 3 . Part 4 . Epilogue (🌶️Fem!Reader)
Sunglasses (Teen Turtles, Bro Fic)
Oneshots
Where There's Smoke 🌶️🌶️🌶️ (AFAB Reader)
Christmas in August 🌶️
Sleeping Beauty
Hot Blood (AFAB Fem Reader) 🌶️🌶️🌶️
Distraction 💜
Hidden Talent
Bird
Awkward
Monster 🌶️🌶️🌶️
Turned Tables 🧡
Crushed 🧡
Poetic Justice
Mountains and Sunsets and You
Rough Night
Valentine (Fem!Reader)
Chills
Headcanons
Demi
Disabilities ♥️💙💜🧡
Secret Swiftie ♥️
Sleeping ♥️💙💜🧡
Drugs ♥️💙💜🧡
Witchy Shit ♥️💙💜🧡
Sweets ♥️💙💜🧡
Renfaire (Renaissance Festival) ❤️💙💜🧡
Twinsies!!! ❤️💙💜🧡
Gender and Sexuality ❤️💙💜🧡
AuDHD Reader ❤️💙💜🧡
OC Stuff
Jess, According to Jess! (and Me 😈)
Crush
Asks of my own
Happy Bruiser
Jess Art by @truffle-draws-turtles
....
If you want to be on the tag list, just let me know and I'll add you!
Thanks for dropping by, and for all the love you've been showing my little psychosis.
Much love, from me and the big guy. 🥰
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whiteeyes-is-a-mad-scientist · 11 months ago
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oc intro
week has started off rough cause I got bit by a dog and my leg now hurts and has a nasty bruise 💔 so why not chat about some of my wof ocs. Fair warning there will be alot of older art 💀 prepare
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princess jojoba, sandwing, she/her
Jojoba I'd one of many siblings and in no way near the throne, thus she is carefree. She's also mama's favorite and they spend time together often. when not with her mother she is off watching races across the dunes and trading within markets. While Jojoba is outgoing and joyful she is haunted by the fact one of her sisters will kill their mother for the throne. She doesn't want to loose her mother and she knows she'll never very whoever does it the same.
art status: oldish ref needs redone
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Forestfire, skywing, he/him
Forestfire is a rather large firescales skywing. When he was born rumors and fear spread quickly. His parents paid an animus to make a rope, unable to be burned or broken, and tied it around their sons jaws to keep him from using his fire. They thought if he never used fire that the internal flame would just burn out and he'd become "normal". The rope did the opposite causing his flames to burn stronger and break through his scales to find some relief. The poor boy was then banished into the mountain and locked up for good. Forestfire now waits within the mountain growing angrier by the day waiting for a group of pseudo prophecy dragonets to stumble their way in and release him.
Art status: old ref, needs redo and will probably be removing the front horn it's a bit too hivewing
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BASE: Joy ang lines from the book
Fossil, mudwing, he/him
Fossil is a lost mudwing trying to find his family. He doesn't remember them but just has that gut feeling something is wrong. He is well liked within the mudwing villages and he drifts from troop to troop, feeling loved but not exactly fitting in
Art status: needs drawn ref
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Wolfsbane, leafwing, he/him
A hired hand, will do anything for money kinda guy. He looks pretty intimidating so he hasn't really had to get violent on many of his jobs. Thinking of sticking this guy into my other mind au story
Art status: old-ish art, would like to give new ref but doesn't not need one immediately
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Queen Sonne and Queen sunset, skywing and silkwing, both she/her
Two queens I made for an rp a long time ago that sadly didn't work out. They do have full refs but they are on bases rn and need redone.
Queen sonne of the skywings is an older more serious queen, she is known for being harsh and no nonsense.
Queen sunset of the silkwings is a very young queen. She was her mothers only daughter and her mother sadly passed early. Sunset is under constant pressure from a group of nobles each trying to dictate laws to their own interest. Sunset is currently trying to find her voice and looks up to queen Sonne a lot.
So there's a handful of my own ocs ❤️ some need to to be reworked and refs re drawn but I still love them
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dixonsdarkelf · 5 months ago
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Taken Care Of
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18+, MINORS DNI
Masterlist
AO3 link
This oneshot features my OC Lydia Vector (from my story 'Finding Myself, Finding You') & Daryl Dixon (TWD) after they've officially gotten together. I was going to wait until I had posted all the chapters of it to post this, but it's getting too difficult to restrain myself. It isn't necessary to read the story beforehand, but some things from it will be referenced in this piece. If you love smut with fluff, feelsy smut (as someone on AO3 called this), and Daryl being a massive softie for his partner, then this one's for you.
Lydia/Vec/Vector (she goes by all of those) (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf
As their relationship continues to strengthen, Lydia & Daryl begin exploring things in the bedroom. After many trials and tribulations, Lydia finally feels she's ready to take things all the way.
This is my first time ever writing smut, so please go easy on me. Constructive criticism is appreciated (emphasis on constructive), but please be gentle or I'll cry.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x OC
Era: Alexandria, pre-Saviors
Word count: 7.3k
TW: referenced/mention of/allusion to sexual trauma, mention of panic attacks
CWs: swearing, smut (duh), oral sex (female receiving), p in v with protection (wrap it before you tap it my friends), gentle sex, Daryl losing his p in v virginity, dirty talk, praise kink, body worship (maybe? idk?), grinding, hand job (sort of), nipple stuff, a lil' bit of post-orgasm crying from our girl. Let me know if I forgot any!
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“You’re practically drooling, Vec,” Rosita laughed, snapping her fingers in front of my face.
“Hmm?” I was only half-present in my response.
“Leave her,” Maggie giggled, “she’s off in her own little world.”
Winter had come to Alexandria, gracing our presence with its ice-cold temperatures and early sunsets. Snow hadn’t fallen yet this season, but it was certainly getting cold enough to do so. I had to break out some jeans and long sleeves, packing away my usual attire of shorts and sports bras for the next few months. Rosita, Maggie and I were sat on the front porch of Maggie & Glenn’s place. Rosita and Maggie had taken the opportunity to have some wine, saying they needed a way to warm themselves from the inside due to the cold. I skipped the alcohol, opting to warm myself with some tea instead. That and Daryl’s leather jacket. Even when he hadn’t been wearing it, his jacket still carried his warmth like it was storing it just for me.
When he was getting ready, I’d tried to convince him to put on his jacket, but he insisted I wear it, telling me he would be fine with a couple of flannels and his poncho. I believed him, as the layers combined with how warm he was all the time would surely keep him nice and toasty, but I also knew his weakness was seeing me in his clothes. That was further corroborated by how handsy he’d been that morning.
He was covering gate duty for the day, his crossbow locked and loaded in his arms, ready to take out anyone or anything that came too close. I was watching him, my mouth slightly agape, dissociating as the corners upturned into a small, delirious smile. There was nothing special or different about his appearance today, but he was looking particularly handsome.
I could’ve been ovulating, but I was down so bad for that man, I didn’t need to be ovulating to be drooling over him.
Rosita pretended to pick something up off the porch and held her hand out to me, palm up, the invisible object resting on it. “Here, I picked your jaw up off the floor for you. You’ll probably want it back. Y’know, so you can use it later.”
“Rosita, please. How many times do I have to tell you that your voice carries?” I snapped.
“Get your mind out of the gutter,” she teased, chuckling softly and taking a sip of her drink.
“You’re one to talk,” I sassed, “your mind practically lives in the gutter.”
“Let her ogle her man,” Maggie retorted. She swirled her wine glass in her hand, the red liquid spiraling up around the sides and nearly spilling over the edge, before taking a sip. “How are things with you two anyway?”
“Fantastic. It’s…it’s like a dream being with him,” I gushed. My eyes fell to my notebook, and the blood was rushing to my cheeks before I had even finished my sentence.
Daryl and I had been official for a few months now, probably four if I had to guess, though no one around here religiously kept track of dates. He treated me like a queen, doting on me despite any sort of little pushback I gave. I was Miss “I’m hyper-independent, let me do it myself,” and I’d met my Mr. “I know you can, but sit down and let me.” And I won’t lie, it had me weak. He was a goddamn angel. I got to wake up next to him each morning and fall asleep next to him each night. Daryl was perfect in every way. Being with him was perfect in every day.
“Still haven’t figured out how to stop blushing, I see,” she laughed. A small smile crossed my lips, and a breathy laugh escaped my nose.
“Daryl thinks it’s cute,” I replied, craning my head in her direction, “doesn’t exactly incentivize me to want to stop.”
There was a tension that hung in the air as Maggie began to ask me her next question. “So…have you...ummm—“
That tension was quickly cut by the sharp knife that was Rosita Espinosa. “How’s the sex?”
“Rosita!” Maggie & I gasped in unison. I gently whacked her arm with my notebook.
“I am not giving you any details about that,” I huffed. My cheeks were quickly turning red once again.
“I told you she wasn’t going to share anything,” Maggie whined, leaning back to talk to Rosita behind me.
I looked back and forth between them before burying myself back in my notebook. “I can’t believe you two.”
Even if I wanted to, truthfully, there wasn’t a whole lot to share.
Our sex life was a journey for the both of us. Daryl was a virgin before we began being intimate. I had given him a crash course in sex ed prior, as the little knowledge he did have about women came from his brother. And frankly, it was horribly inaccurate. Daryl said Merle was degrading when he talked about women, only discussing them in the context of sex and how it was for him. Couldn’t say I was surprised that he never bothered to try to teach Daryl how to please a woman. That didn’t matter to me though. Not having experience in pleasing women meant I got to teach him everything from pleasure points to dirty talk to my praise kink. And Christ, he was a quick learner.
It took some time for him to get confident in the dirty talk department, but he’d quickly mastered that skill once he saw how I responded to it. I had no issues going down on him. Getting comfortable with him going down on me took a bit more work, but he was nothing short of patient and understanding. Early on in that journey, there were times where I’d ask him to talk me through what he was doing, such as telling me where he was going to place his hand before doing so. That didn’t leave any room for surprises, and since I found his voice relaxing, there was a soothing aspect to it too. At first, I was worried he might find it silly, but he never did, Not once. More than anything, he was flattered that I found his voice comforting enough that I wanted to listen to it in our most intimate moments. We’d never gone all the way, but we’d come close a few times.
It had been a few weeks since we last tried, and I’d decided today was the day I was going to tell him I wanted to try again.
I’d been hyping myself up all day, even picking out a matching bra and panty set for later to boost my confidence. If you know, you know. I so badly wanted to experience him in that way. It was almost difficult to put into words how much my body craved him, ached to feel him in the most intimate way. But my brain always had to rear its ugly head and ruin it. It was simply doing its job—trying to protect me from the trauma that lied deep within the recesses of my mind. I couldn’t be too mad at that. My body tingled with nervous energy—excited nerves, anxious nerves, anticipatory nerves—and despite the butterflies in my stomach, I had a good feeling about this one.
“I’m sorry,” Rosita apologized, “I shouldn’t have brought it up. Or at least not been so crass about it.” I peered up at her over the brim of my glasses before adjusting them on my nose.
”I’m sorry too. We just want to know you’re…being taken care of,” Maggie assured.
I chuckled softly. Being taken care of…what a cute euphemism, I thought.
“You both know I can’t stay mad at you.” I looked up and watched Daryl as I continued. “It’s nothing personal, of course. It’s just…it would feel wrong to share details. I know he doesn’t talk about me like that. It wouldn’t feel right to do it to him.”
“We won’t bring it up again,” Maggie promised. She leaned back again, craning her neck to look around me. “Right, Rosita?”
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Right.”
“I won’t give you nitty gritty details, but I can assure you I’m being taken care of.” I smiled as Daryl turned in my direction, giving me a little nod. “That’s all you’re gonna get.”
I spent some more time with Rosita and Maggie before going home, gathering my notebook and tumbler and walking down the dirt path with an extra pep in my step. I wanted to get home before Daryl so I could get changed and spend some more time hyping myself up. Letting myself inside, I kicked my boots off and went upstairs, eager to change into the cute lingerie set I’d picked out. It was one I’d gotten months ago on a department store run, one that Daryl hadn’t seen yet. One that I’d been saving for a special occasion such as this.
I took the set out of my drawer and quickly undressed, tossing my clothes blindly behind me into some far corner of the bedroom. He could be home at any time, and I wanted to be ready, as well as be able to have some time to myself. I took one of Daryl’s black flannels and tossed it on, leaving it unbuttoned to show off my lingerie. I’d chosen a matching black set, the cups on the bra and the cheeky panties made entirely out of lace. My sternum tattoo peaked out from underneath, the blue flowers adding a pop of color to my dark attire. I adjusted my breasts in the cups, careful not to let my nails snag and tear the delicate fabric. I fidgeted with the straps to make it as comfortable as possible. I wore a 34B, so I met the criteria to join the itty bitty titty committee. My smaller chest had always been an insecurity of mine. I had a smaller frame, so my smaller breasts and butt looked proportionate on me. However, even I couldn’t escape the pre-apocalypse pressure of women’s beauty standards. Daryl didn’t care though. He didn’t care what size my itty bitty titties were or how big or small my butt was. He loved every square inch of me. Plus, he was just happy to be able to see me naked. I chuckled softly to myself as I recalled the first time Daryl saw my bare chest.
“Why ya got your eyes covered?” he’d asked as I approached him, topless and with my face buried in my hands.
“I don’t wanna see the look on your face when you don’t like what you see,” I said, my voice muffled by my hands and my cheeks quickly growing hot. I’d stopped in the hall and waited, anxious wiggling my toes as I heard him step closer. I could hear him laughing softly and feel him eyeing my bare breasts.
“Damn girl, ya got a nice rack,” he replied in an attempt to make me giggle. His hands fell to my hips and pulled my body against his before they wandered up to my hands, removing them from my eyes. I blinked them open, my baby blues meeting his for a brief moment before he kissed me, soft and tender, just like he always did. “Don’t got nothin’ to be shy ‘bout. You’re perfect.”
I fluffed my hair in the mirror, sweeping my bangs out of my eyes and running my fingers along my scalp. I smiled softly and did a few twirls, the hem of Daryl’s flannel flowing around my hips. The outfit was already boasting my confidence, and I knew Daryl was going to love it. He adored lace on me, and that combined with me wearing his shirt was going to drive him wild. I stepped around to the nightstand on my side of the bed and pulled the drawer open, checking to make sure there were still condoms inside, which there were. I rubbed my arms with my hands to try to keep warm. I could’ve put some pants on or threw a blanket around myself, but I wanted my lingerie to be on full display the second Daryl walked through the door. Plus, I’d be wrapped up in his warmth soon enough.
I was filled to the brim with nerves, both good and bad. Of course I was anxious. This would be a new step for us, a step we’d tried to make several times before. Unfortunately, my trauma always got in the way. But I was also excited. Excited to break boundaries, excited to slide into bed and be pleased by him in a new way. Excited to feel him in the way my body had been craving for months.
I heard the familiar creaking of the front door hinges, followed by the sound of Daryl’s bow clattering on the floor. I looked in the mirror and took one last deep breath before walking out. I rounded the corner from our bedroom and stepped out into the hall. The cold winter air that blew inside when he came in had quickly chilled the entire front of the house, the now icy wooden floor shocking my bare feet. I did my best to ignore the feeling.
“Hey handsome. Glad to see you home,” I called out as I made my way down the stairs. He kicked his boots off and turned around, the annoyed look on his face quickly turning into a flirty smirk as he laid his eyes on me. He folded his arms across his chest as he eyed me up and down.
“Lydia Rae, get your sweet ass over here,” he ordered. I skipped over to him, and he picked me up by the waist, spinning us around as he kissed me.
“I told you you’re not allowed to call me that,” I whined as he set me down. My arms remained draped around his neck, playing with the tag inside his shirt.
“Not unless ya’s in trouble.”
“Well what am I in trouble for?”
“For lookin’ so damn good.” His hands wandered down to my hips, his fingers fiddling with the sheer fabric of my panties. “This new?”
“Not new, no. I got this months ago. I’ve been saving it,” I explained. I dropped my eyes to the floor, wiggling my toes once again and scratching the side of my thumb with my index finger behind his head. I was already turning red. “Could we talk?”
“‘Course. What’s goin’ on?” he asked. My arms fell from around his neck to his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt as I often did when I was nervous. “Ya doin’ okay?”
“I’m okay,” I assured. I bit at the inside of my bottom lip. I was brimming with excitement, but the anxiety had my vocal cords in a chokehold. “I, umm…” I sighed and buried my face in his chest. “Shit,” I said under my breath.
Daryl kissed the top of my head and buried his nose in my hair, snaking his arms further around my hips to pull me closer. “Ain’t a mind reader. Gotta tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head o’ yours.”
“Fuck, this is harder than I thought.” I ran my hands through my hair, taking a deep breath as I did. I closed my eyes and let the words trickle off my tongue before my nerves could stop me. “I, umm…I think I wanna try again. No, sorry, not think. There’s no uncertainty. I wanna try again.”
There were a few beats of silence between that only lasted seconds, but in my mind, they lasted hours.
“Ya sure? Last time was…ya weren’t doin’ so good after that one,” he reminded.
He was right. Granted, every attempt had been similar to the last one, where I was left having a panic attack over who knows what trigger. But I’d done a lot of work on myself in the last couple of weeks, making sure there were no doubts in my mind about being ready.
“I’m sure.” I leaned my head up and kissed his cheek, which was quickly growing hot under my lips. “Very sure, baby. I’ve sat on it for weeks.” ‘Baby’ had become a pet name we only used to indicate to the other person we were in the mood & in the bedroom. 
He eyed me up and down again, his gaze lingering on the junction of my thighs. He’d seen me naked countless times now, but I still found my cheeks turning pink when he looked at me with lust in his eyes. As he closed the space between us again, he pulled my body firmly against his, encapsulating me in his warmth.
His tongue tickled my lips, silently seeking permission to enter. I parted my lips slightly, and our tongues tangled as his hands pulled at his shirt that hugged my body. I lowered my arms to allow it to fall to the floor, quickly bringing my hands back and tangling my fingers in his hair, tugging gently at his chocolate locks. My heart was pounding, the vibrations it sent through my chest radiating across my entire body. The butterflies in my stomach were working overtime. A soft moan escaped me, and he pulled away, gently nibbling my bottom lip as an amused chuckle trickled off his.
“We got condoms?”
“Already checked.”
“Then let’s get somewhere more comfortable.” He picked me up by the waist and held me close, coaxing me to wrap my legs around him. I draped my arms around his neck and continued to play with his hair, the faint scent of our coconut shampoo a sexy juxtaposition to his rugged appearance.
“Daryl Dixon, don’t you dare drop me,” I laughed as he took us upstairs.
“Ain’t ever dropped ya ‘fore, have I?”
We were hardly in the bedroom door before his lips crashed into mine again. Despite the cold, there was already a light sheen of sweat forming on his skin. Those familiar electric sparks tickled my skin, and I smiled into our kiss, remembering the first time I felt those sparks, back when we first met & I walked out of my bedroom door past him, our arms brushing ever so slightly as I did. If only me then could see us now.
He sat back on the bed, laying down and propping me on his pelvis to straddle him. I snickered as pressure built up underneath me. His erection was already begging to be freed from the confines of his pants.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing,” I giggled, trailing a finger down the buttons of his flannel, drawing little shapes and slowing down as I got lower, “you just get turned on really easily.”
“You’re one to talk,” he teased.
“I mean, look at yourself. Can you blame me?” I tried to lean down to kiss him, but he dug his work-worn fingers into the flesh of my hips to pull me back.
“Just wanna look at ya for a sec.” He held my hips in place with his firm grip, and the pink of my cheeks quickly turned to a rosy red as his cock continued to rise under me, coming in contact with my core. I bit my lip and averted my gaze. Even after all this time, it was nearly impossible to keep eye contact with Daryl when I was blushing. His eyes trailed up to my breasts, and I gathered my hair out of the way to allow him to get a better look. He was devouring every square inch of me with his eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Ya change your mind, just say the word,” he reassured. He drew little circles on the front of my hip bones with his thumbs. The tone in his voice shifted to a more serious one as his gaze met mine. “I mean it. Ain’t gonna upset me at all. Don’t want ya pushin’ yourself just so’s I can get my rocks off.”
“I know. I won’t push myself, I promise.”
He pulled me down to his level, our tongues meeting once again. My panties were already soaked, wetness seeping through and coating his jeans as I grinded against him. Hitched, grunt-like moans escaped him, which only turned me on further. Daryl knew how much I loved when he was vocal in bed.
As I continued to straddle him, his hands found my bra clasp, unhooking it with one swift motion and allowing my breasts to fall free. I pulled away just long enough to slide the dainty fabric off and blindly throw it somewhere in the room. I began working at the buttons on his shirt, caressing his chest as I traveled south.
“Shit,” he moaned as I tossed my head back and shook my hair out. He gripped my hips again and rolled us over, pushing me onto my back and pressing his weight onto me. His mouth fell to the sweet spot on my neck, first leaving open-mouthed kisses, then licking and softly nibbling. A series of moans interlaced with soft giggles rolled off my tongue.
When we first began being intimate, him putting his weight on me used to be a big trigger of mine. Now, there was a safety in being underneath him, being protected by him when I was at my most vulnerable. I loved the feeling of his weight on me, and even in the most sensual contexts, it brought back those butterflies I used to get when we were getting to know each other.
His hands kneaded my breasts, his thumbs tweaking my nipples and eliciting little gasps from me. I squeezed my eyes shut, taking in every sensory experience, small waves of pleasure beginning to wash over me. I continued to blindly work at his shirt, which was almost completely unbuttoned now. I wondered if he could feel my heartbeat with how hard and fast it was pounding.
Daryl trailed kisses down my neck to my chest, tracing little shapes with his tongue down to my breast. My head fell back on the bed, eyes squeezed shut and gritting my teeth as he flicked and sucked and licked the supple tissue.
“Goddamnit,” I groaned. I frantically tugged at his shirt, and he pulled away just long enough to rip it off and throw it over his shoulder before focusing his mouth back where it belonged.
He planted sloppy kisses along my sternum tattoo, leaving a light sheen of saliva behind, as if he was marking his territory. As he came back to kiss me, he put his weight on me again,
grinding his clothed cock on my core to the rhythm of his tongue swirling in my mouth.
I had to restrain myself from digging my nails into his back, as I worried the sensation might be too smilier to what caused his scars. I gripped onto the bedsheets for dear life, balling it in my fists with such force, I was sure my nails would tear right through them. The friction of his jeans against my clit was euphoric.
“Oh…God…fuck, yes.”
He chuckled and dropped his head to my neck, his soft lips and gruff voice tickling my ear like a feather as he talked. “Ya like that?”
“God yes,” I replied through gritted teeth, “don’t stop.”
He was rock hard, his erection pleading to be freed from its prison with each pass over my most sensitive area. He was practically throbbing in his jeans as he continued to grind into me, and feeling him twitch, knowing I was the one making him feel this good, only brought me closer to release.
“Shit.” His strained groaning in my ear sent tingles through my core.
“Ok…ok, that’s enough.” I tapped on his shoulder, indicating for him to stop. He did so immediately, panting in an attempt to catch his breath. As much as I was enjoying the feeling, I didn’t want to come just yet.
Daryl brushed some strands of hair out of my eyes and kissed my cheek. “Ya doin’ alright?” Even when he was in the throes of pleasure, Daryl always checked in with me throughout our intimate escapades, making sure I was comfortable.
“I’m great.” I lightly panted and nodded. “But you know what would make me feel even better?”
“What’s that?”
“If you put that skilled tongue of yours to use elsewhere.” The sexiest smirk I’d ever seen crossed his lips as blood rushed to my cheeks. Even after many sessions of mattress action, I was still timid in asking for what I wanted.
“Think that can be arranged.”
He kissed down my body, incorporating more of his tongue the lower he got. Every muscle in my body was clenched, and I fought to keep myself still. Stopping just above my panties, he slid the delicate fabric down my hips and off my legs, letting them naturally fall off my ankles. Kneeling at the edge of the bed, he wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled me to him as he settled into his favorite spot.
He planted soft kisses along my slit, teasing and taunting me by licking and dipping the tip of his tongue in my entrance. My head was back on the bed, my eyes already beginning to roll back in my skull, but I could feel him staring up at me from between my legs, his eyes glossed over with lust and passion. The way Daryl looked at me, kissed me, touched me, was something akin to worship.
“You’re so beautiful. Love seein’ ya like this, gettin’ all worked up just for me.” His sultry Southern accent was dirty talk all on its own, and combined with words of praise made me tingle from head to toe. He left a few more long, teasing kisses before slipping his tongue between my folds of aching flesh.
He was slow at first, taunting me just the way I liked as he repeatedly flicked my clit. As he picked up speed, I reached for his head, tangling my fingers in his hair and rocking my pelvis in motion with his fluid tongue as he brought me closer and closer to the peak of pleasure. I became so lost in the throes of lust that I was struggling to gain control of myself, bucking and shaking and squeezing my thighs together. His moans and grunts sent vibrations across my core, the sounds that dripped off his lips evidence that he, too, was in ecstasy. This was just as much for him as it was for me. My fingers in his hair, being surrounded by my warmth, the intoxicating taste of me coating his tongue…this was his paradise.
“You’re shakin’, baby.” His hands gently pressed against my knees, coaxing them apart. “Gotta keep your legs open for me.”
Fuck, I’ve taught him well, I thought.
Shockwaves of pleasure radiated through every cell of my body. The only sounds echoing off the walls were my mix of luscious moans and delirious giggles. I used to be self-conscious about how loud I was the bedroom, but Daryl had assured me on numerous occasions of how hot he thought it was, how they were sounds often on repeat in his dreams.
“I’m close,” I said, words coming out broken though breathy moans, “so close, baby.”
Daryl took that as his cue to pick up speed, his magical tongue rapidly encircling my most sensitive area and devouring me like I was his last goddamn meal. Every centimeter of my skin was burning with pure ecstasy as the metaphorical cord in my center grew more taut with each pass of his tongue. I instinctively bucked into him, gently tugging on his hair and eliciting more deep grunts and groans from him, and my eyes rolled back into my head as the suction on my swollen clit pushed me over the edge.
“Ah…ah—fuck!” My cries were followed by my signature string of giggles, the telltale sign that I had climaxed. Daryl plunged his tongue in my entrance, yearning to feel my walls twitch around him as I rode out my high.
“That’s my good girl,” he hummed, leaving one last long, tender kiss between my legs.
As my body came down from the peak of pleasure, he crawled back onto me, leaving kisses along my jawline. I was all delirious smiles as the kisses trailed to the sensitive spot under my ear, all the while repeating how much he loved me. No man had ever cared about my pleasure in the way Daryl had. He always made sure to get me off first, and often, more than once.
“Ya still doin’ alright?” he asked, running a hand through my hair and lightly massaging my scalp with his fingers.
“Oh, I’m fantastic,” I replied, giggles still intertwined with my words. His signature little grin crossed his lips as he kissed me again, slipping his tongue in to allow me to taste myself on him.
“Ya wanna keep goin’?”
“Yeah.” I hoped my nod and tone of voice would mask the anxiety creeping up in my chest. Alas, it did not. This man was somehow attuned to my every thought, reading me like a damn book no matter how hard I tried to keep a poker face.
“What’s goin’ on?” The tone of voice softened, and I could tell he was starting to get worried. This was typically the point where I would start having a panic attack, and he was bracing himself to jump into action.
I bit the inside of my bottom lip and nodded again, dropping my gaze. “Mhm. Just a little nervous is all.”
“We can stop,” he reassured, “like I said, ain’t gonna upset me.”
“I wanna keep going. I’m alright, I promise. Just first-time butterflies is all. Those’ll be around until…y’know, it’s not the first time anymore.” I brushed strands of hair out of his eyes, tucking them behind his ear as I brought my gaze back to his. The safety that lied within those baby blue eyes soothed me instantly. “I’m sure you’ve got some of those too, right?”
His cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. “Maybe, yeah.” He dropped his gaze for a moment before bringing it back to mine, biting his lip. “Was worried ya might…I dunno. Just didn’t want ya worryin’ ‘bout me. Wanted ya to focus on yourself.”
“Aww, baby,” I cooed, taking his face in my hands and tenderly caressing his cheekbones with my thumbs, “it’s alright to be nervous. We’re doing something new for the first time. It’s gonna be a little nerve-wracking for both of us.” I kissed the tip of his nose and gave him a soft, reassuring smile. “Do you wanna keep going?”
He adjusted himself to straddle me, my wetness further soaking his jeans. He left a few more tender, open-mouthed kisses on the sweet spot on my neck before sitting up, tossing his head back and shaking out his chocolate locks.
“Sure do.”
I bit my bottom lip as I unbuckled his belt, sliding it off and tossing it down beside me, the buckle clattering on the floor. I rubbed him over his jeans, lingering and swirling my fingers over his swollen tip. I licked my lips in anticipation, my core tingling and aching to feel every inch of him. His breathing picked up, small grunts and groans trickling off his lips, one of the sweetest sounds I’d ever heard. I paused to unbutton and unzip his jeans, his erection breaking free the moment it had even a hint of wiggle room.
I pulled him from his boxers and stroked him. The bulging veins on his member pulsated under my grip, and he was so rigid, you would’ve thought he was made of stone. A small bit of precum started to leak out, which I eagerly swiped up with my finger, maintaining eye contact with him as I licked it off my hand before continuing. He tossed his head back again, his mouth falling open as I drew circles with my thumb over his sensitive red tip. 
“Christ, woman.” He removed my hand from himself, kissing the back of it and placing it on his chest. His heart was pounding, his ribcage the only barrier keeping it from bursting from his body. “Keep touchin’ me like that, ain’t gon’ last much longer.”
Daryl climbed off of me and dropped the rest of his clothes to the floor. I watched as he retrieved a condom from the nightstand drawer, carefully tearing it open so as to not rip the rubber. I pulled myself up and adjusted, propping my head onto the pillows at the head of the bed. I watched with hungry eyes as he slid the condom down his length. I was craving him, aching, needing to feel him fill me in the most intimate way possible. Though there was still a small presence of nerves, the butterflies in my stomach were beginning to settle. I was ready.
“Ya comfortable?” he asked as he propped his arms up on either side of me and settled between my legs.
“Very,” I responded, “are you?”
“Mhm.” He dropped his head back into the crook of my neck, lips grazing the helix of my ear as his gravely voice whispered erotic promises to me. “Wanna look at ya while it’s happenin’. See how good I’m makin’ ya feel.” I dropped my gaze and snickered as the blood rushed to my cheeks. Only Daryl was capable of making me giggle and blush like a schoolgirl.
His cock twitched on its own accord, grazing my clit as it did and sending little shockwaves through my center. “Ya sure you’re good?”
“I’m great, I promise,” I assured. I ran my hands through his hair and down his neck around to his chest, his muscles flexing as I caressed him.
“Just got one last question.”
The blush on my cheeks returned again. “What’s that?” I wondered. Like I didn’t know exactly what he was about to ask me.
“Can I fuck you?”
“Christ, yes.”
He took his time entering me, sliding in slowly to soak in every second of the feeling. My mouth fell open, and I looked down between us for a moment to watch him slip inside me. His cock slowly sinking further into my entrance was a beautiful sight.
The face he made when he first slid in…I’d give anything to see that face again, to capture a still of it and it imprint it into my memory forever.
“Shit, ya feel good,” he moaned, his head falling into the crook of my neck. 
“Kinda…tilt your pelvis…” I instructed, placing my hands on his hips to help guide his adjustment, “to get—oh, there you go.” His pubic bone put the ideal amount of pressure on my clit as he thrusted. “Nice and easy.”
“How’s that feel?”
“So good,” I replied, words spilling out me between moans as we kissed, “you feel so good.”
I was aching for him to return every time he pulled out. His tongue was magic, but his cock was otherworldly. He was the perfect size, comfortably filling every square inch of me and bottoming out with each thrust. It was like he was crafted just for me, and I was crafted just for him.
My eyes fluttered closed.
“Fuck, baby.” The words trickled off my lips like an erotic prayer.
“You’re so sexy.” He dropped his forehead to mine. “I love ya so much.”
I echoed his adoration, the words coming out between huffs and puffs. “I love you too…so much…you can…go faster…if you want…”
I opened my eyes in time to see him smirk, and I gasped at the pleasure that rolled through me as he picked up speed. “That what ya want?”
“Mhm.” After a few quick thrusts, he slowed his pace again, this time pumping in and out even slower than when he started.
“Ya know I need to hear ya say it,” he reminded. When it came to consent, a nod or an “mhm” or moan in response wasn’t good enough for Daryl. He needed verbal confirmation every single time, and to me, it was one of the hottest things about him.
“Yes,” I practically begged, “I…” I averted his gaze and bit my lip, my cheeks growing hot as I blushed the hardest I had so far. “I want it faster.”
The sinful sounds of skin-on-skin and salacious moans entangled as he repeatedly thrusted deep into my core. My breasts bobbed as we rocked back and forth, the squeaking of the bed becoming the harmony complimenting the melody of our bodies. Despite my eyes being closed, I could feel his on me, watching as my face warped and contorted with each wave of euphoria he sent between my legs. His moans were almost animalistic in nature, and his body was rigid, his face turning red as his breathing became more rapid. He was desperate for release, and it was evident that he had needed me just as much as I needed him. The enticing sounds slipping off his tongue were sounds I often played on repeat in my head when he was gone, my dreams recollections of our past intimate endeavors. I wrapped my legs around him, my heels digging into the small of his back, allowing for him to hit my G-spot at the perfect angle.
“Ugh, fuck, I’m gonna come.”
“Wanna feel it,” Daryl growled, hardly able to form a complete sentence as his tongue followed the curve of my helix, “wanna feel ya twitchin’ ‘round my cock.” I could tell he was close too, using every fiber of his being to hold himself back until I could get off first.
“Mmm…fuck…oh God.” Small initial shockwaves of pleasure began to roll through me, subtle and almost muted at first, letting me know what was waiting for me once I peaked.
“That’s it.” His voice was a sexy dichotomy of gravely and silky smooth as he nibbled at the sensitive spot below my ear. “Ya gonna be a good girl ’n scream my name?”
That alone almost sent me over the edge.
All I could do was nod in response, my eyes squeezed shut and moaning sweet nothings directly into his ear. My legs were beginning to shake, and I knew it was only going to be a few more strokes before ecstasy took over. I was moments from coming undone.
“Mmm…oh…oh, Daryl!”
I clung to him for dear life as I came, my body trembling and writhing underneath him. My fingers dug into his back muscles, my face pressed into the crook of his neck, practically gasping for air as orgasmic bliss nearly took my breath away. I bucked into him instinctively, demanding to feel continued pressure on my clit as I rode out the most intensive waves of pleasure yet. My walls clenching around him, along with my signature string of lewd giggles, were the catalyst to his release.
“Aah! Shit!” Strained moans and gasps came out through gritted teeth as his forehead fell to mine. I gasped at the feeling of him pulsating inside me as he emptied into the condom. He continued to frantically thrust, prolonging both my pleasure and his, before relaxing in my arms, the happy hormones coursing through him bringing a smile to his face. He trailed kisses along my jawline, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
Every muscle in my body felt like jelly. My limp legs slid off onto the bed, and my head fell to the pillow, eyes rolling back. I stared up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths and listening to my heart pounding in my chest. My ears felt full, like when the air pressure changes on a plane. Every cell in my body was singing his praises, and I was seeing stars.
He pulled out once he went limp inside me, rolling over to remove the condom, tying it off and letting it drop to the floor. He grabbed the covers and pulled them up over us, coming back and pulling me close to him. He’d rolled onto his side, propping himself on one arm and leaning over in my line of sight, running his other hand through my hair.
“Hi beautiful,” he practically cooed, kissing my cheek. A silly, delirious smile broke out on my lips.
“I think I just saw God,” I laughed, eliciting an amused chuckle from Daryl. As I panted, my gaze met his, and he kissed me again, tenderly, just like he always did. Even in the naughtiest contexts, this man never made me feel anything short of loved and adored.
“Ya know, I’ve tried my damndest to recreate that sexy little giggle in my head when I’s on the road, but ain’t nothin’ like hearin’ it from the source.” My cheeks began to turn rosy red at the thought of Daryl thinking about me to relieve himself when he was away for too long. “How ya feelin’?”
With those three little words, a myriad of post-coitus emotions coursed through me. Pride, joy, appreciation, and love, just to name a few, hit me like a train and sent me careening into a fit of tears. I was immediately overwhelmed, the feeling building in my chest overflowing as tears streamed down my face and soaked the sheets below me. Even though they were happy feelings, there were a lot of them, more than my body was able to handle in my current state.
“Hey, you’re ok.” He leaned over me, wiping tears off my cheeks and wrapping his other arm underneath me. “What’s wrong?”
The tone of his voice had dropped, and he looked sad, like he felt awful, like he thought he’d done something wrong. The worry radiating off of him was palpable, and I could tell that he thought I was spiraling into a panic attack. I gave him a big, stupid grin, kissing all over his face to reassure him that these were, in fact, happy tears.
“Nothing’s wrong, my love,” I promised, holding his face in my hands and stroking his cheeks with my thumbs, kissing the tip of his nose, “I’m just…overwhelmed, but with good feelings.” I blinked back more tears and took another deep breath. “I did it. I’m so proud of myself. And it was…you were…incredible. First time having sex that was so good, I cried after.”
“That good, huh?” he smirked. He adjusted his position over me, puffing his chest out a bit as he did. Clearly, I’d boosted his ego.
“Mhm. Really good,” I reiterated, biting the inside of my bottom lip as a faint blush of pink returned to my cheeks once again. “How are you feeling? How was your first…time getting your dick wet?”
“Amazin’. I mean, you were amazin’,” he replied, “happy ya said somethin’ when I got home. Ya’s lookin’ so good, I almost lost it.” His fingers trailed down my side, circling over the tattoo on the front of my right hip. “Gotta start dressin’ like that more often.”
I looked up at him, my baby blues locking with his as I gave him a soft smile. Every ounce of love I had for the beautiful man in front of me fought to break free from my chest as my heart swelled in my ribcage. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
He chuckled as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and kissed me. “Takin’ care of…’t’s cute.”
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Taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon
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nyx-is-missing · 1 year ago
Text
SUNSET PART 1
Or early summer!
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Clarisse La Rue x Cassandra De Young (oc! Apollo's kid)
Summary: When Cassandra gets involved in a scandal early in the day, she goes to camp early.
Warnings: men....thats all i could think of actualy.
First read this!
Part 2 is here!
Cassandra De Young
Im fucked.
That's it, that's all i can say.
I knew it as soon as my hand reached his face and stinged, as soon as i heard a camera's flash, and as soon as i stepped into my mom's apartment.
Let's just rewind a bit, okay?
My family own a big business, that you already know by now, the thing is, when they reeaally want to do business with someone they go extreme, the most common technique is to get on the good side of everyone in the family, everyone.
They research, pretend to have things in common, to like the same things, to have the same views of life, and to make it more believable they always go for the person who is closest in age with them.
Usually i dont get involved in this situations because im younger than everyone else, the only teen in the family.
The thing is, this family also had someone around my age.
A 18 year old guy.....eighteen.
Let me tell you, i really wasn't going for trouble today, i tought he may be a normal guy, just with a little money, someone i could have a conversation with, drink some coffe, laugh and go back home and think "hey, not so bad"
He.was.not.
All he could talk about is how much money his family had, where he went for winter break, his pure blood horse, that only ate (attention to this one) IMPORTED GRASS.
Overall a huge dick.
But that i could handle, i've met people like this, i could handle a shitty talk for some hours, what i could not handle was having to go through all this with his hand on my knee bellow the table.
And here i was, spending one of my last days of spring being tortured by the fates.
"You're not paying much attention to the conversation are you?" He said, and gods that accent was almost making me want to jump out of a cliff, or push him out of a cliff, both would work.
"Oh sorry i was-"
"No need to apologize, people get bored i know" Not that he did something criminal by not letting me finish my sentence but, my gods every action coming from him its making me want to die right now "Its okay, i could find some way to make you focus"
Okay, im done
"Im gonna need you to stop saying odd shit" I looked him dead in the eye with a bothered look, and by the surprised look he gave me back i was 100% sure nobody ever told him to shut up when he was saying nonsense.
"C'mon, dont be like that-" he said trying to get his hand a little but upwards, and i only realized i slapped him when i felt my hand burning.
"Oh my gods im sorry i-" And then i heard the camera flashes.
Im going to need you to imagine the scene, my hand was still up, his hand was till on his cheek, and he had a scared look in his face, as did most of the people at the fancy coffe shop.
Do i smile now? Strike a pose? This one is definetly getting front pages at every place.
I chose the safest choice, got out of that straight to my house.
No..i did not payed the bill.
The whole way home i was trying really hard to think of something to say that was not going to make my family mad, especially my grandfather, but considering whe has always mad with something, that felt like a impossible mission.
First thing i saw when i opened the door of the penthouse was my mom, standing in front of the television, and sure enough, my face was on it.
She turned to me, but before she could even say something i started to explain myself.
"Its not what it looks like mom, i swear, i didn't do it on pourpose, let me explain please-" i couldnt actually read the look on her face, but she didnt say anything, so  i took that as a go ahead.
When i explained her what happened her face relaxed a bit, but not completely, and she had a look that said your grandpa is getting in my nerves because of this.
"I'll talk to your grandfather about this, but you need to know that the way you acted wasn't appropriate, there is cameras all around and you need to be careful...lets just thank the gods you didnt pulled out a dagger right?" She walked closer to me, and i knew she was trying to comfort me, its a pitty actually, i knew she didnt wanted kids when she had me, i knew how grandpa treated her when he found out, to me, it was enough that she at least tried to love me enough.  "You already have your things packed to camp right? I know you have some more days of school but ill call them and tell them you are sick, its best for you to leave earlier this year, then your grandfather wont talk your ears out...you okay with that?"
"Yes mama, ill just finish packing some small things...do i leave today?" I felt her hands on my shoulders, and heard a silent im sorry.
"Yes, but dont be like that, think that you at least wont have to see the news talking about you..youll just be there, with your siblings, eating strawberies and..whatever else demigods do daily, right?"
Like i said, it is enough to me that she tries, even when she isnt great all the time, i know people who dont even have this.
I nodded and went to my room, making sure not to accidentally hit a new sculpture, placed in the corridor.
I didnt wait for her when i finished packing.
I knew she wouldnt be the one to take me there, she never is, she has things to do with the family business, its what ive always heard.
So when i got to the underground garage with my bags i automatically searched for one of the family drivers, sure enough, he was there.
He was a nice guy, but quiet, i knew that he probably had orders not to talk to the family members unless spoken to, grandpa did this with all of them, i also knew he never actually knows where hes been taking me, he takes me there almos every year, but always stops at the road in front of the forest, maybe this sad look he has on his face its because he thinks he is taking me to one of those crazy wilderness therapies as a punishment.
Granpa would absolutely do that if he hadnt had to live with a great public appearence.
"Miss? We are here" He looked at me in the rearview mirror, i only realized i had doze of when my eyes met his and i blinked. "Hold on tight, im going to help you with your luggage okay?"
"Oh..thank you mr bell" He opened the trunk, and then the back door for me, extending his hand to help me get out of the car "thank you, again"
"Sure miss, just let me take your bags out and we are all set okay?-"
Another car dor noise made us both look to the right, to find Clarisse La rue, closing a taxi door, with just one big suitcase in hand.
Now, my story with Clarisse is kind of complicated, i've met her when he were, eight i guess, her family bought some shares in the family business and we saw each other very regulaly, and ever since then everything everyone told me about her is that she is a troublesome girl, that i should stay far.
But she was the one who realized i was a demigodess, and took me straight to camp when a monster found me, and she was the one who, many times when we were little, comforted me when my family made me cry.
It seems like she forgot all of that because she never even looks at me.
If you ask her, she has never even met me at all actually.
"Clarisse, you're early"
"Cassandra, you too-"
"Cass actually, i prefer cass" i corrected her, to wich she just rolled her eyes and muffled a whatever. "Thats all you are taking? One suitcase?"
"And you are taking all that? How do you plan on walking the whole way with all that? Im assuming he wont go with you" she said looking at mr bell, and its true, he could not walk the whole way with me, and i could not walk with all that alone...fuck
"....you could help m-"
"No, dont even think about it"
"C'mon Clarisse!" She didnt even answered me this time actually. "Arent you a Ares-" i looked at the driver taking the suitcases out. "A ares...type of kid? You will pass on the oportunity to demonstrate your muscles or whatever?"
She started to walk away with a bored look, did i already said fuck?
"C'mon ill do whatever! I- i dont know.. 20 dracmas!, no?, ill help you with the cleaning duty you'll eventually have when you fuck it up? I..ill do that AND ill cure you anytime you want, everyday, no matter the time!"
She stopped walking.
Yes! I knew it, one of the many problems clarisse had its that she likes to go out at night to train alone, and when she gets hurt she cant ask anyone to help her, because she would get caught
"Give me those suitcases already and shut up-" she was interrupted by a very happy me hugging her.
"Thankyouthankyouthankyouclarisse!"
I felt her hands on my arms and realized she was going to push me away, so i took a step back
"Geez Clarisse, you could've just told me to back off, dont be like that... just take these and ill take those"
I said pointing to the suitcases, and saying goodbye to mr bell.
Can i already welcome summer and his crazy energy? No? Okay.
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