#to the point where my mother told me her first thought upon seeing me after i was born was just ''oh god she looks just like [cousin]'' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sinsofsummers · 10 months

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sensational

6.9k | joel miller & f!innocent!reader part two

this comes from this request. a few liberties were taken with the details (the reader knows that sex exists, but not much else), just fyi!

summary: thanks to becoming an orphan at age 13, you've lived the rest of your life oblivious to all the world can offer. now that you're in jackson, joel miller ignites something in you that only he can give answers to. warnings: slight angst (mentions of parent loss), innocent!fem!reader, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 25), kind of pervy!joel, smut (18+, mdni!!!), fingering, grinding, reader watches old pornos with joel, slight praise kink, no use of y/n. note: i planned originally to have this be just one part, but even though it ends in a way that i like, i could maybe be convinced to write a second part teehee (part two coming soon!)

You used to love the rain. The way it cascaded down your skin in little droplets, cleansing your body from a hard day's work, and the way it made your hair look so perfectly disheveled.

You craved the rain, until it became nothing but a reminder of the night your parents died.

It had been years at this point, but you would never quite forget how young, and small, and unsuspecting you'd been when they told you to run. How cruel, that time might pass, you might change, but with one smattering of rain, you returned so swiftly to the worst night of your life.

The three of you had been living alone, making your way...somewhere, but they never told you where. Your parents' only wish was to keep you safe, that much was clear. So it shouldn't have been a surprise that upon an ambush by at least ten clickers, after both your parents had been infected, that they'd insist that you run.

"Please, darling," your mother had pleaded, a lump in her throat as she formed the words. "Don't make me beg. I need you to run. Promise?"

Your father was somewhere else, but you could hear him yelling in the distance, in a fight for his life. You were too young, even at thirteen, to understand that those were the sounds of a dying man.

"I'll be right behind you," she'd choked on the last phrase, and in hindsight, you knew she was lying. But in the moment, you'd believed her. You couldn't see the bite she was hiding on her arm, her fate already sealed. "I'll come for you, my love," she insisted, "but I need you to go. Head for the woods."

It was the last time you saw her. You'd turned tail and had run as fast as you could for the woods.

The last thing you heard was a gunshot. A single shot, echoing around you in the trees. It may have been impossible to know, but you didn't need to turn back. Your parents were dead.

If you hadn't found Jackson, who knows how long you might have lasted. Nearing your twenty-first year, you'd proven valuable to the community, and they'd welcomed you in. Jackson was the first home you'd had since you were five.

It hadn't occurred to you that you were years behind your peers in terms of...well, everything, until you met Joel.

Rugged, tan, and sporting a perpetual frown paired with an ever-present crease between his brows, Joel Miller was your patrol partner. You weren't exactly sure why, and he didn't seem particularly pleased about it, but then again—he never seemed particularly pleased about anything.

It hadn't struck you as anything to be proud of, or to boast about to the other young women in Jackson, but they certainly loved coming up to you and expressing their jealousy when they felt so inclined.

"What's he like on patrol?" they'd ask, their eyes wide and lips curled in smirks as they waited for any insight you could give them on his mysterious personality.

All you could ever say over the next four years was a quick, "He's quiet."

Maybe that was why the two of you worked well. He wasn't much of a talker, and after you'd lost your parents, you hadn't been one to waste any breath on conversation, especially when you had survived alone with your own thoughts for almost eight years.

Silence was your mutual understanding. No talking meant no questions, and no questions meant no problems.

And this worked. Until it didn't.

-- -- --

It started like anything started. Quietly, hardly a bother, until it sank into the marrow of your bones and demanded that you address it.

More literally, it started in your shoulders. You'd been on patrol with Joel, a quiet, "Let's go," his only words to you that morning. They were his only words to you every morning, and that day was no different.

Patrolling with him was easy. Like you'd said—no talking, so no problems. You rode next to each other on your respective horses, and there was nothing more than a glance or two toward each other when necessary. It was the only form of communication that the two of you shared.

His big brown eyes had always startled you, looking so inviting in the contrast of the white snow during the winter, but they never showed you more than he allowed you to see. And all you saw of Joel was his dedication to sleep, patrol, eat, and repeat.

You hadn't felt the desire to look that closely at him until some of the girls in Jackson asked you how big his hands were, or what he looked like up close.

"You know," one of them had crooned, not realizing you were unsure of their intentions, "what does he look like without that big old coat on?"

You'd shrugged. "Why should I know?"

Another one wiggled her eyebrows. "Doesn't it get...lonely out there? Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company?"

The faces of those girls, the glint in their eyes, it was something you couldn't quite decipher, as much as you wished you could. So one day, you'd asked the man himself what it all meant.

When you said it for the first time, it was so quiet that you could hardly even hear yourself.

Joel grunted, the only indication that he'd heard you.

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn't find a reason why. This was just Joel. He seemed to know everything there was to know about life; surely he could help you understand this. "Why do the girls in town keep asking me what it's like to patrol with you?"

He didn't answer for a second, but then shrugged. "They botherin' you?"

"No." You weren't quite sure that was true, and knowing him, he could probably hear the lie in your voice. "They're just kind of...belligerent."

His eyebrow cocked. "S'a big word," he mused. "Sure you know what it means?"

Your cheeks grew hot. "Yes," you insisted sharply. "I do read, you know."

He murmured a response, but the wind carried it away from you. You rode in silence for a bit longer before he said, "Don't let those girls get in your head. I think they just wanna get a rise outta you."

"A rise?"

Joel nodded and brought his horse to a routine stop. This was where the two of you always stretched your legs. He reached up to help you down your own mount and set you on the ground gingerly. "You know," he said, as if you should know, but with no regard for the fact that you didn't. "You're still kinda new here. Seems they're still pretty dead-set on embarrassin' you."

"I'm not embarrassed," you insisted again. "I just...is there a joke I'm not getting?"

"Any reason you chose to talk so much today?" was his only answer, which made your stomach clench.

There was no reason for you to be offended, as it was your typical routine to remain quiet unless absolutely necessary, but you couldn't help the way your lips curved downward. "Sorry," you mumbled, "forget I asked."

He was quiet again as the two of you walked at least two hundred paces, stretching out your sore muscles in the snow. It used to be comforting, the silence. It wasn't maddening, it didn't ever bother you if Joel was in his thoughts. You weren't even sure at times if he had any. But all that had changed now; his brow creased more than it usually did, and you wanted nothing more than to ask him what he was thinking.

Joel was the one constant in your life now. Maybe it was a—well, probably it was a trauma response from losing your parents, but you couldn't help it. You didn't need much from anyone, just someone to stay. Joel was strong enough to take care of himself and was smart enough not to make any rash decisions. As far as you could tell, he'd stay.

So how could you be so embarrassed by asking these questions?

"I forgot how long you said you were...alone out there," his grunting voice filled the space between you once more. It was quiet, and he sounded hesitant, as if he wasn't sure how to speak.

"Since I was thirteen," you said mechanically, so familiar with others in Jackson asking the same question.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "And you're how old?"

"Twenty-five," you said, feeling oddly small in his presence.

He shook his head. "That's a long time to be alone," he muttered, blowing out a breath.

You huffed. "Yeah, well, I survived. And besides, I've been here for four years now, you know."

"I know."

Again, the silence. Infuriating.

Then, you couldn't help it. "What's...'spooning,' and why do those girls ask me if we've done it?"

Joel stumbled, reaching out for balance. His hand found purchase on your shoulder, and you caught him awkwardly. "You don't even know what spooning is?" He sounded incredulous, as if you'd asked a juvenile question.

The warmth from his hand was astonishing, and distracted you from your embarrassment, if only for a moment. It sank through his glove into your coat, and down toward your skin. Something about the weight of his hand on your shoulder, even for a second as he removed it quickly, was enough to send you spiraling.

Your face burned. "Never mind," you said quietly and mounted your horse again. How stupid could you get? You scolded yourself. You'd ventured too far into this conversation, and now you didn't know how to get yourself out of it. "I was just...never mind. We should get back."

He nodded, but his face still looked somewhat pinched. "Yeah. S'getting dark."

The sun was still up. No intention of sinking beneath the horizon for at least a few hours. You rode again in uncomfortable silence, this time letting it fill the space. You foolishly thought that maybe if you were quiet long enough, he'd forget that you'd made a fool of yourself, that you'd exposed yourself to the truth: that you knew hardly anything about...anything except for survival instincts.

When Joel spoke again, it surprised you. "I didn't mean to tease ya," he said. "It's just kind of a surprise that you're not...that you don't..." he looked over at you, and there was some type of pleading in his eyes, as if he were begging you not to make him say it.

"That I don't what?" you said dumbly, hoping you didn't sound as childish as you felt.

He pondered his next words carefully, and then he hummed, "If you want, I could...teach you some stuff."

"Like spooning?" You felt a warmth in your face as you watched his shoulders hunch with a soft laughter. Your own shoulder burned where he'd touched it, and something bloomed in your gut.

He chuckled. "I don't know about all that," he said, "but I'll help you get...back on track. Would hate for someone to take advantage of your...innocence." It sounded sinful, the way he said it, and the something in your gut pulsed.

"You don't have to," you shook your head, but you didn't even believe the words as they came out of your mouth. "I'll just ask someone else."

"Darlin', don't trust anyone else to give you straight answers. I'm older'n half of everyone in Jackson, anyway." He flashed you a look. "I'll help. Whatever you want to know."

You bit the insides of your cheeks, your stomach turning strangely. "Anything?"

He nodded dutifully, but his eyes had already left yours. Joel Miller, ever the professional. "Whatever you want."

-- -- --

Joel liked to consider himself someone who would never again suffer the shock of surprises. After having lived through and seen more shit than any normal person could, he thought he'd experienced it all.

That is, until her pretty lips had opened and asked him to teach her about all she'd missed. Until she asked him to teach her.

He hadn't really seen her as the picture of innocence until he'd heard how long she'd been alone, surviving with no one and nothing besides her own thoughts and the clothes on her back.

The least her parents could do was teach her how to shoot, he'd thought when he first met her. It was a curiosity that was quickly resolved, as she'd proven herself valuable to Jackson.

Tommy had wasted no time putting them on patrol together. "It'll be good for you," his brother had reasoned when he brought up concerns. "You know, to talk to someone out there. I know she's on the young side, but you don't gotta fall in love with her." He'd flashed an apologetic smile when Joel had scowled. "You're scarin' everyone, Joel. Bein' all quiet and shit...it's—"

"It's what?" he'd asked gruffly. "I don't do it on purpose. I'm a grown man."

This was all true, and he very much didn't do it on purpose. With no one around whom he deemed worthy of his conversation, Joel Miller had become the quiet, introspective version of himself that everyone decided to become scared of all of a sudden.

The way he saw things? It wasn't his fault everyone in Jackson was boring. Or childish.

But her. With her unmistakable will to survive and those eyes that could burn fierce with ire one moment, and soften with curiosity the next...it was only a matter of time before he agreed to do whatever she asked.

He should have seen it coming, especially considering her past. Every time he thought of just how...unsuspecting she was about...everything, he had to shake his head, clearing it of any thoughts that threatened to take advantage of her.

But being ignorant of spooning. He had to clear his throat every time he thought of what that might mean for himself in this particular arrangement. If she knew nothing of something so...palatable, he could hardly help himself when thinking of what else she might be unaware of.

He tried to be patient, and he tried to be respectful, but at the end of the day, he was Joel Miller. From the moment she looked at him with those wide eyes, he was lost.

-- -- --

"What I would give to give that man the ride of his life," one of the girls next to you hummed at breakfast the next morning, her eyes presumably glued to Joel, who'd just come into the cafeteria. You didn't look up at him, instead casting a confused glance toward the girl who'd spoken.

"Ride where?" You cursed your quick instinct to ask questions, as the girls erupted into a fit of giggles. Face burning, you looked down again at your plate. "Never mind," came your almost instantaneous response. You were getting used to having to apologize for your ignorance, and people rarely—especially not these girls—offered their kindness.

One of the other girls snickered. "Why don't you ask him? I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway," she said, smiling widely. Her next words were nothing short of a drawl, the complete essence of mockery. "'Joel, what's it mean to ride?'" she pinched her face in what you assumed was an impression of you, and it only made your eyebrows furrow despite your stomach sinking in utter horror.

And then there he was. He'd called your name, and now he was standing behind your left shoulder, hand outstretched to save you.

You were sure his hand had never looked quite as appealing as it did now. The calluses on his palm were raised and visibly rough. For a moment, you stared at his fingers and wondered what they might feel like against your cheek.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, that something arose in your gut once more before you heard him murmur your name again.

"Come on," he grunted, but there was a gentleness to it that made the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end. "Time to go."

The girls at your table were silent when you took his hand gingerly and let him lead you from the cafeteria. You noted the swift wave of cold that hit your hand as soon as he dropped it, just a second later. Clasping your hands together, you hoped in a fit of desperation that you might preserve some of the weight and warmth of his touch on your skin. It failed.

"Thanks," you said later, when the two of you were outside the community's borders. Jackson felt a bit too stuffy for any real admissions of gratitude, you'd decided. It turned out to be a good conclusion when you felt the delicious churn of your stomach at the idea of being alone with him once more.

I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway, one of the girls had said. Doesn't it get lonely out there? You were reminded of another's teasing, and this time your cheeks burned at the memory. Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company.

He was big, you considered. When he stood next to you, his frame was almost larger than life, and his shoulders were sinfully broad when you watched him walk in front of you on previous patrols. The sheer size of him was enough to send you into a heady descent.

As usual, Joel didn't answer for what felt like ages, and you'd begun to wonder if he could see where your train of thought had led you. Then:

"You could have told me they were bein' that outrageous," he grunted, keeping his eyes forward. "I woulda helped you out sooner. S'no fun feelin' left outta everything."

It was...odd to hear such words come from a man like Joel. Although, you reminded yourself, you'd hardly spoken to him in the four years that you'd been in Jackson; who was to say he wasn't normally like this? A quiet, brooding older man, yes; but maybe he was naturally like this. One to offer his help.

"If you wanted to help, you would have made an effort four years ago." You let your words hang in the air. You didn't mean for them to come off sharp; it was simply the truth. "I don't need your help," you added, tightening your hands on the reins of your horse and swallowing roughly. "It was fine. I am fine."

He flashed you a look as if to say, is that so? You couldn't help but notice the way the corners of his eyes creased, the only sign of amusement. It was all you could do to keep your eyes on him, although you weren't sure how you were going to explain the way your mouth went dry at the sight of his big brown eyes.

"Besides," you insisted quietly, "you're not my dad."

Joel cleared his throat. Looked down, shoulders tense. Inhaled. "No," he said decidedly. "No, I'm not."

Emboldened by this clarification, you inquired, "So what did those girls mean earlier? Riding, I mean?"

If you could have guaranteed the image of Joel's eyes going wide in surprise to remain in your head for the rest of your days, you would have done it instantly. His forehead was creased as his eyebrows lifted, and despite his position facing away from you, you could see it all.

The way he seemed to wrestle with himself before answering, the way his hands seemed to clench in his gloves. "So, uh..." he started, and then paused again. Mustering up whatever courage he needed, Joel finished, "Well, ya see, when a man and woman love each other very much—"

"Joel." Oh. You couldn't help it when a breathless chuckle left your lips.

He was silent, and when he finally answered, it wasn't a question. "What."

"I'm not fucking stupid. I know how reproduction works."

Joel's chest rose and fell in a deep sigh, and you couldn't ignore the look of complete relief that washed over his rough features. "Thank fuckin' Christ. Didn't know if I had it in me for another sex talk. I'm too old to be doin' this."

"Believe it or not, my parents did leave me with the basic information." Swallowing roughly, you continued. "And I know...I know that men usually...take. It's an assertion of power, from what I've...seen."

He shook his head. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised that you've run into your fair share of dirtbags, even in the middle of the world goin' to shit." He ran a gloved hand through his hair, and you secretly enjoyed the way it stood up. "Anyone ever, you know...take...from you?"

Hearing your own words regurgitated back to you left you feeling fluttery. Shaking your head, you got down from your horse; you'd reached your typical resting spot. "No," you said firmly. "They never wanted me."

Joel nodded. "S'good," he said, and it bothered you to no end that you couldn't understand the emotion in his voice. "So..."

By now he was standing next to you, closer than you were used to, judging by the way his coat sleeve bumped yours as the two of you walked, stretching your legs. "So," you said, thinking up a way to make this conversation less awkward. "I just hate feeling like a kid again. I'm twenty-five, for fuck's sake. There's more than just survival when it comes to living. I just want to know what I'm missing out on," you confessed with a hand on your stomach.

When Joel brushed by your side again your stomach flipped. And what the fuck is that about, and why do I keep feeling it? You asked inwardly, but you were too nervous to ask. Bombarding Joel with questions, especially after you'd just started talking to him on patrol after four years, seeming to be the wrong path to take.

He shrugged, eyebrows still furrowed in thought. "There's nothing to miss if you don't know what you're missin'."

"Yes," you admitted, "but that doesn't stop any of those girls from making me feel like I'm..."

"Innocent?" he murmured, and you thought you weren't meant to hear it until he turned to look at you.

Those big brown eyes, they just won't quit, a voice nudged you in your head.

"I don't want to be innocent," you groaned, throwing your head back. "God, not in the sense that they see me in. Sounds like a damn curse."

The sound of his rumbling laughter, however quiet, sent a shock down your spine and you nearly tripped in the snow. "There's pros and cons, I s'pose," he offered. "It's like I said: I'll help you get back on track. If that's what you really want."

"It is." You stopped walking, took a look around at the landscape, otherwise empty with the scattering of trees. You swallowed, pressed one. "So...riding. It's a part of reproducing, then?"

He chuckled again, but this time it didn't come off as demeaning. It was like he was teasing you, but good-naturedly. "Let's not jump too far ahead of ourselves, yeah? Start with somethin' smaller. Then we'll work our way up."

Joel's eyes were piercing when he held yours in his gaze. If someone watched this conversation, you were sure they'd be able to see the blush blooming on your cheeks.

"Learnin' takes time, ya know," he mused, his growling voice nearly a hum that could have warmed you from the inside out.

You'd made it to the edge of the woods now. This was normally where you turned back, heading for home. But neither of you moved. The bubble of something pulsed again, and you swallowed roughly before whispering hoarsely, "So where should we start?"

-- -- --

If Joel were a better man, he might have warned her what the curse of innocence in a young woman could be. He might have shook his head, stepped back, and told her to ask someone else. He might have taken the reins and turned the two of them back toward Jackson.

If he were better, he wouldn't have stepped closer to her. If he were a better man, he wouldn't have looked into her sparkling eyes and let the question slip. Fuck it all.

"You ever been kissed, darlin'?"

-- -- --

You swallowed. Don't make a fool of yourself, you begged yourself before answering with a quiet shake of your head. "Not many contenders out there. Not any good ones, anyway."

He'd leaned closer to you with his question, and now you could practically see each line of age in his face. Joel's expression was unclear; he could have been pleased with this information or...or maybe there was pity in his eyes. "No," he said with an understanding nod. "No, I suppose there wouldn't have been."

He lifted a gloved hand to his mouth and you watched as he traced it along his lips. The gray strands in his hair glinted off the sunlight, blinking pleasantly in your eyes. That something pulsed once more in your stomach, and there was a sort of realization that came with it.

Joel, you thought. Joel is making me feel like this.

"Will you kiss me?" The words were out of your mouth before you could reel them in.

But instead of laughing, or scoffing, or giving any sign of mockery, Joel Miller inhaled quietly. "You know how much older I am than you?" he asked.

You nodded. "We're both adults, Joel. Besides," you felt a ghost of a smirk come to grace your lips, a feigned confidence coming to save you in this moment of truth. "I thought you told me to ask you these questions."

He sighed. "You're right."

"So? Will you?" you asked, with a small, "please?" coming out afterward.

He moved slowly, something you were equally thankful for as you were frustrated with, but his forehead met yours soon enough. His eyelashes brushed against your cheek, and he let out a shaky breath, letting it fan deliciously across your face. The knowledge that he was just as nervous as you were was not only a comfort; it was perhaps the most attractive thing you'd ever known.

And when you lifted your chin, just a hairsbreadth from his lips, your eyes fluttered closed, waiting for him to meet you in the middle. It only took a moment before he was closing his mouth over yours, and Joel Miller was kissing you.

He was gentle, of course, but there was something restrained about his kiss, the way he slowly slotted his lips over yours as if you might crack under any more pressure. It only made you want more, more, more...

You pressed your hands to his chest and curled them into fists, tugging his jacket to lessen the distance between your bodies even more. You didn't know how you were doing this, how you'd managed to find confidence in what could have easily been a humiliating experience. Your first kiss at twenty-five? With anyone else, it might have been a nightmare.

With Joel, it was turning out to be the most delightful dream.

"So soft, baby," he pulled back to whisper against your mouth. "These lips are so soft for me."

You hummed your response and pulled him back to you, letting him see that you wanted more. That incessant pressure was building, and it wasn't until he had his arms sliding around your waist that you forced yourself to pull back, head spinning. "Joel."

He blinked. "What? Too fast?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, darlin', you're just so—"

"No, that's not it." You managed a weak smile, but the look in his eye, the question and the undeniable desire—is that what it looks like?—quivering in his brown irises, nearly made you collapse. He waited for you to continue, his hands never leaving you, a courtesy you were grateful for. "I feel...hot." Your cheeks warmed. "Um, there's this...pressure."

His lips closed in a tight smirk, and he squeezed your hips. "Where, baby?" he murmured, and you could have sworn you saw stars outlining his head at the sound of the pet name. "Show me," he cooed.

"Um." You paused, unsure of just how. But with his hands on your waist, his heavy, warm touch melting you on the spot, you took one of his gloved hands in yours and guided him to your stomach. "Here. Kind of."

"Yeah?" he said, and you forgot about the cold. About your horses waiting to be mounted, about your other responsibilities in Jackson. All you could see were his dark eyes that had somehow grown darker as you pushed his hand down, down, down...

"Fuck, babygirl," he cursed, and let his hand rest on the crux of your thighs, just barely pressing on the source of the tingling sensation. If anything, it made it worse, and you let a breathy whine fall from your lips. "You're gonna be the death of me, huh?" he groaned.

You couldn't form words. Just one kiss (a very good kiss, mind you) and a heavy hand on your core was all it took, apparently. You could hardly look anywhere but his face, your mouth dropping open as your hips moved of their own accord, grinding into his hand before you realized you were doing it. "Joel—" you whimpered, and he pulled his hand away.

There wasn't enough time for you to feel jilted, as he tugged you back to your horse and practically launched you onto it himself. "We're goin' back," he said firmly, "now."

Swallowing, your throat dry and rough, you pressed a hand to your cheek, feeling the heat swimming under your skin. "Did I do something wrong?"

You could hardly see him shake his head as he mounted his own horse, looking back at you to make sure you were following him. "'Course not," he called over his shoulder. When you caught up with him, the two of you shoulder-to-shoulder, he continued. "Look, darlin', f'I'm gonna be givin' you your first kiss and makin' you feel that good..." he sighed, his dark eyes finding yours. "I'm not doin' it in a fuckin' snowbank."

-- -- --

The entire ride back to Jackson was painfully long, silent but for Joel's mumbled directions, despite the fact that the two of you had taken this same route countless times in the four years that you patrolled together.

Your eyes were trained forward, and you knew his were as well, but it took everything in you not to glance at him even for a second. If you did, you were afraid that the pressure building in the crux of your thighs would never go away.

It would be unfair to say that you were completely unaware of what might happen when you got back to Jackson, but you still didn't know much, which left a nervous bubble rising in your gut. It wasn't like there were any books left in Jackson that you could read about it, or any movies that Maria would allow to remain in the community's borders.

Again, you got a wave of feeling like this should have concerned you, or at least made you a little anxious. But with Joel pulling ahead, his strong back the only thing you could look at, you felt the knot of tension release in your stomach. This was Joel. After four years—even four mostly silent years—of working together, you felt like you...knew him, somehow. That he couldn't possibly lead you astray.

Sure enough, when you were both within the borders, horses returned safely to their stables, the tension returned. Or had it ever really dissipated?

Joel hovered close to you as you left the stables. "Let's go, darlin'," he breathed, a gloved hand on your lower back as he guided you.

"Where?" you said, and you hoped it didn't sound as desperate as it did to you, the pressure getting worse. "I need—"

"I know, baby, I know," he cooed gently, his head on a swivel as if looking for anyone who might stop you. "We're goin' to mine. I've got the perfect lesson planned for ya, alright?"

It was all you could do to nod and let him push you forward through the snowy streets. If only those girls could see you now.

Once inside, you took a breath. There was no one around, and once the door closed behind you, the silence felt all the more heavy. "Ellie?" you asked, if only in courtesy.

He shook his head, and you bit your lip when you saw him smirk. "Just us, doll."

Joel shed his outer layers, and when he stood in front of you, you realized that this was the first time you'd seen him without his coat. Without his gloves, aside from that morning.

Your eyes snagged on his fingers, and you swallowed roughly when you saw the way they twitched, as if in anticipation for something. Or maybe he was holding himself back, you considered. His jaw did seem to have an impatient clench to it. Hands rough like you knew they would be, it didn't take long for your mind to wander into thinking of what it might be like to feel those hands on your skin.

With any luck, he'd give you the sweet release you craved, however it would unfold.

"See anything you like?" he teased, and your cheeks warmed.

"Sorry," you fumbled for a response, your eyes dropping. You'd meant to clear your head, but then your eyes were caught on his thighs. Specifically how hard the seams on his jeans were fighting to remain unripped. "Um, a lesson, you said?"

He nodded, reaching out a hand to take your own coat off, leaving you in the sweater and pants you'd had on all day. You were sure your hair was knotted and would be for days, but he only smoothed a hand down your face, letting you lean into his touch. His fingers were still cold, but your face was hot and it offered a dizzying sense of relief.

"I could never teach you all this," he murmured, his thumb rubbing back and forth in an absentminded swipe across your cheek. "Not without getting...distracted," he finished, pressing his other hand to your waist. Underneath the thick layer of your coat, his hand felt like a hot iron scorching your skin, despite there still being a few layers of clothes between your bodies.

"Distraction is okay," you breathed, lifting a hand to cup his on your waist. "Right?"

He shook his head, a chuckle lifting from deep in his chest. "Not tonight," he whispered. "Tonight, I want to stick to the plan."

"Which is?"

Wordlessly, he removed the hand on your waist and entwined it with your own, tugging you toward the living room where an old television had been placed on a rickety-looking shelf. "Sit," he directed, and you did so without hesitation. He paused, biting back a smile at your eager cooperation, and adjusted himself.

It occurred to you that as much as you were affected by him, he was experiencing a similar effect from you. His pants, already tighter than sin, seemed to have become even tighter, as a bulge began to grow while he stood just a few feet from your face.

"Joel—"

"No, no," he waved a dismissive hand and went to the television to grab something. He came back with something you recognized: a VHS tape. "Don't worry 'bout me, sweets. Tonight's just for you."

"We're gonna watch a movie?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your heart sank a little. You had been hoping that the two of you would kiss some more, and maybe even...you didn't even know the name for it.

"Not just any movie," he grinned, putting it in to watch. The video started. "A special one."

When the scene opened on a man and a woman in the throes of passion, you gasped. "No way," you whispered. "I thought Maria—"

He shrugged, sinking down on the couch beside you, his knee bumping yours. "She must've missed this one," was all he said.

The woman looked to be enjoying herself, as her scene partner kissed her neck, dragging his tongue from the dip in her clavicle to the curve of skin where her neck met her ear. A cartoon-ish moan left her lips, but you didn't pay it any mind. The sight of it made your thighs clench together subconsciously, the lick of pressure rising again in your center.

"Joel—"

"Shh," he said gently. "C'mere, darlin'." With no more than a heavy hand on your waist, he tugged you closer to him, situating you over his lap. "Comfortable?"

You almost said no; you knew that this wouldn't be an acceptable seating arrangement in the cafeteria (or anywhere public, for that matter), but when his hands landed on your thighs, you nodded swiftly. His fingers curled around your skin, and you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat through his fingertips, poised as if he might spread your legs from where they were squeezed together between his own thighs.

Something hard and solid nudged at your core, and you couldn't help it when you leaned back into his chest, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder. A breathy moan tumbled from your lips, and your stomach fluttered when you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.

"That quick, baby?" he whispered, his breath fanning over your neck. "You really are a sweet young thing, aren't ya," he teased, pressing his nose to the joint between your jaw and your neck, "fallin' apart for me already?" He rocked his hips forward, his bulge pressing harder against you, and it nearly sent you into a spiral.

You swallowed, your throat dry. The sounds of the movie seemed far away as you opened your eyes and looked at his beard, peppered with gray and scratching at your chin when he leaned over you. "Joel," you whispered, bringing your hands to cover his own on your thighs, "I-I want to know everything." You'd never meant anything more fervently, more desperately, than this.

If you'd known how addicting this could feel, being so close to him, feeling his hands on you, perhaps you would have been embarrassed at the way your hips began rubbing yourself on his lap, hoping for—you didn't even know what could be after this. You just knew that the way you felt was the most intense thing you'd felt in your entire life, and you wanted to keep feeling this way, as long as you could.

Joel tutted, squeezing his hands on your thighs. "Oh, look at you," he groaned, a deep, carnal noise that made your chest constrict, "you're a natural, doll." His lips brushed your shoulder, and he darted his tongue out to lick a small strip up your neck.

Your heart swelled with the praise, and it was all you could do not to squeeze your eyes shut. "Please," you begged quietly, as if someone might hear you.

"I know, baby, I know," he crooned, dark eyes locked onto your own as his hand crept closer—to your waistband—closer—unzipping your pants—closer...there.

Your hips lifted from his lap with the heady sensation of his fingers pressed to a bundle of nerves between your legs. "Joel—!" you squeaked.

You felt him smile against your cheek. "So wet," he murmured, "so slick for my fingers, baby." He began rubbing that spot in tight circles, a slow, torturous pace. "Let me know when you're gonna come, yeah?"

"When I..." you trailed off. You'd never...how would you know? "I don't..."

Joel hummed in your ear, rocking his hips again and releasing a guttural groan. "S'okay, pretty girl," he reassured you, "I'll be gentle. Lemme know when it feels like it's too much. "I've gotcha."

You were too far gone to doubt him. This was Joel. He wouldn't let you fall, as much as you felt like you were going to slide to the floor at the feeling of his hand coming up from your leg to caress your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingertips. A strangled mix between a cry and a moan left your lips, and with one more kiss to your brow paired with a quick swipe of his finger over your ever-sensitive bud—

Something gave way and you jerked your head back, digging into his shoulder. Your legs spasmed and you squeezed your hand over Joel's, holding his hand in place underneath your panties.

"Fuck, doll, just like that," he encouraged you. "Look at you, eyes rollin' back for me. Shakin' like a good girl." His hips tensed beneath you and you felt his chest shudder as he released a punishing moan. "Got me feelin' like a damn teenager, comin' in my jeans."

His fingers stilled, but his hand didn't move. Your legs slowly stopped shaking, and the solid mass beneath you was softening. You let out a sigh, your eyelids fluttering closed. Your cheeks were flushed, you could tell; but this time, it wasn't embarrassment that brought the warmth to your face.

"You okay?" he murmured, carefully removing his hands from their places on you. "Feel alright, darlin'?"

Your head turned, nestling into the crook of his neck. Nodding quietly, you shifted in his lap. "I...I didn't know it could be like that," you shivered.

Joel paused the video, the living room falling quiet around you. Swinging a hand under your legs and tugging you to a more comfortable position over his lap, he raised his fingers to his lips, glistening with the remnants of your desire. Your jaw slackened when you watched him open his mouth, lapping at the tips of his fingers.

"Trust me, doll," he said with a glint in his eye. You whimpered in anticipation as he reached to brush a strand of hair from your face. "I've got so much more to teach you."

tysm for reading! you made it to the end! part two is in the works posted!

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daycourtofficial · 4 months

Text

I Know Something You Don’t Know

Summary: Everyone else finds out you and Azriel are expecting a baby before you and Azriel do.

Author’s note: this is something? Isk where it came from, just went with it.

Cassian loved calm mornings. Coming home from training, cleaning up, and enjoying a few hours of calm to himself. He usually just lounges about the house, in various rooms, soaking in the silence, thinking about his day, his family, anything really.

He was sure this was to be one of those mornings, until he hears you bustling down the stairs in a quick pace.

Upon seeing Cassian at the table, calmly eating his array of sausages and bacon, you give him a nod.

The general laughs at his brother’s mate, whose arms are full of supplies to do mother knows what.

“Do you still have a body under all that stuff or are you just a tent with legs now?” He asks, laughing.

“Har har,” you reply, walking briskly through the room, “I told my nephews I’d teach them how to set up a tent and I’m running late. Can you open the door for me?”

Cassian rises, obliging your request. He loved ribbing you, but he also adored you as a person and as Azriel’s mate. You and Feyre were the best people to have as in-laws, a sentiment his brothers likely don’t share about his own mate.

“Well, I hope you all have a great time camping, don’t get eaten by any bears, please.” He says, opening the door for you.

“Ah, we’ll just be in my sister’s backyard camping, but it’ll be loads of fun. See you later, Cass!” You say, walking through the door.

Once the door is shut behind you, Cassian freezes as your scent lingers in the doorway. Your usual scent, of course, with a very soft, delicate undertone of flowers mixed in. So soft, he didn’t notice it while you were here.

Pregnant.

Cassian got the relaxing morning he thought he would. No one else came back to the house for several hours, an opportunity Cassian would usually relish and take delight in. Today his thoughts would only allow him to think of his brother and you and your babe.

His first thought was if Azriel knew, and knowing his brother, if he had any inclination you were pregnant, he wouldn’t have let you leave alone.

When the two of you mated, Azriel was insufferable. He was certain you would die from suffocation due to his hovering. On your first time seeing everyone after the frenzy, Cassian went to hug you and Azriel growled at him. You were incredibly patient and understanding, recognizing that it came from a mixture of his instincts to protect and his fear of anything happening to you.

It got so bad at one point you started bringing a spray bottle and would spray him when he was being too territorial.

Nesta and Feyre had walked into the house to find Cassian sitting at the table, pulling on his hair, a mixture of excitement and concern on his face. It was obvious he’d been sitting there for hours, his long forgotten breakfast gone cold hours ago.

“Cass, are you alright?” Feyre asks, coming to sit next to him.

Feyre’s voice breaks him out of his stupor, “Pregnant,” is all he can muster.

Fwyre looks at Nesta, “no no, not me,” Nesta replies, sniffing the air, “not you either.”

Feyre looks back at Cassian, “are you the pregnant one, Cass?”

“Azriel is.”

Feyre’s smirk drops from her face, “w-what?”

“Well okay not Azriel, but she is. She’s pregnant. They’re having a baby!”

Cassian feels ten pounds lighter being able to share this with someone. He jumps from his chair, standing in front of Feyre and Nesta.

“They’re having a baby, and neither of them know it.”

This day was absolutely rubbish for Azriel. Boring meetings, messy work, and stupid paperwork had him leaving early and staying incredibly late. All he wanted was to come home, eat dinner, and lay in bed with you on top of him.

He walked into the doors of the house, not expecting to find anyone, let alone finding his whole family in the foyer bickering like children.

“Okay but where will the banner go!” Cassian yelled at Mor.

“We already have a banner, we don’t need yours!”

“Yeah but I hand painted mine! I want them to know I was the first to know and that I’m the most excited for them!”

Feyre scoffs at Cassian, “if you’re the most excited, then why have Rhys and I already hired a team of nursemaids and nannies and have been gathering nursery supplies all day?”

Cassian rolls his eyes at his sister in law and high lady, “okay fine, you’ve spent the most money on the child, but I’ll teach them how to fly and all the best swear words.”

Mor starts to rebuttle, “yeah but I’ll be the best aunt, we’ll go shopping and,” she pauses, the first to notice Azriel’s return home, “Az, you’re home.”

All eyes snap to Azriel in the doorway, and he is no closer to figuring out what he’s looking at. Balloons are strewn about, as are streamers, there’s confetti, cakes, and what look like two banners that he can’t see what they say.

“What’s all this? Is it someone’s birthday?” He asks, walking forward and swiping some icing off a cake as Elain tuts at him and swats his hand.

“Uh,” Cassian replies, “it will be someone’s birthday.”

Azriel looks at him, “what does that mean?”

Cassian walks towards his brother, his arms outstretched, clamping down on his shoulders.

Looking him the eye, Cassian says, “do not freak out in that Azriel way you do when big things happen.”

Azriel scoffs, trying to shrug off Cassian’s hands. “I do not ‘freak out’,” his last words in air quotes.

Cassian continues speaking, “yeah says the guy who hid for two weeks when the mating bond snapped for him.”

Azriel opens his mouth to argue, but Cassian continues. “Speaking of, I saw your lovely mate as she left this morning.”

Azriel looks at Cassian, waiting for him to continue. “And after she left I realized there was a… scent.”

Azriel stiffens, his instincts kicking in as he responds, “what kind of scent?”

Cassian immediately shuts down Azriel’s thoughts, “whoa nothing like that, no. She’d never smell like another male, she’s too obsessed with you. No, it was a-a baby. She’s pregnant.”

As Cassian’s words were registering in his brain, Mor slowly lifted the banner so he could see that it said “Congratulations Bat Baby!”

Azriel looks at Cassian, deep-rooted fear of allowing his hopes to rise just to have them taken from him, “you’re sure? Absolutely sure?”

Cassian, unable to gauge Azriel’s reaction, replies with a quick, “yes.” Azriel wastes no time, sweeping Cassian up into a hug, lifting him off the ground. This show of affection was abnormal for Az, especially initiated by him, but Cassian gladly enjoys the moment.

Cassian can feel Azriel laughing into his chest as he sets him down, and everyone in the room is smiling at him, feeling his joy.

Azriel looks at Cassian, “but wait - do all of us know? Except for her?”

Cassian looks a bit sheepish, “well… maybe?”

Walking back towards the house, you walk through the open markets of Velaris, loving the smells of all the flowers and fresh bread. Walking through the vendors, several of them stop you, giving you gifts. You try to decline them, unable to accept their flowers, their chocolates, their breads. But they won’t let you give them back, and they absolutely refuse to allow you to pay for the gifts.

“I can’t just take these without paying!” You tell one vendor you frequent, Lila.

Lila scoffs at you, “it is called a gift! Have you never received one before?”

You roll your eyes, “of course I have, but this is different-“

Lila interrupts you, “it is not different. This is a gift. Accept it. Congratulations.”

You look at her in bewilderment, but a customer comes in at that moment and takes Lila’s attention. You walk through the market, your arms full of gifts from the vendors you frequent, confused as to why you have them.

You walk up the steps into the townhouse, toeing open the door after spending several minutes trying to find your keys.

“Honey?” You call out, removing your keys from the door. “The people of Velaris have gone nuts.”

You start making your way into the living room, still carrying what feels like 50 pounds of flowers. “They kept giving me things. We have like 20 bouquets and 10 loaves of bread!”

You feel him approach, helping grab things out of your arms and setting them down. “Did something happen and I missed it? Lila even congratulated me-“ Your words stop as you see the banners over the doorway.

“CONGRATULATIONS BAT BABY!” in beautiful writing, with little bats painted all over it.

Another one reads, “CONGRATS ON THE BAT!”

One written in what appears to be Cassian’s handwriting says, “I’M GOING TO BE AN UNCLE!”

You look at Azriel, still not understanding. “What’s happening?” You finally take a good look at him, and he is on the verge of crying.

“When you left this morning, Cassian smelled you. I didn’t want to get too excited until I smelled you myself, but oh gods.”

He wraps you in his arms, deeply inhaling you. “You’re pregnant,” he laughs into your shoulder.

“Pregnant?” You ask him, clearly not having heard him correctly.

You and Azriel stopped taking contraceptives a few years ago, knowing it would probably be a century before you had a baby of your own.

“Me? Pregnant?” He laughs, “yes.”

He pauses, thinking about something. “Is this still something you want? We jumped the gun a bit with the decorating, but I assumed because we talked before.” He looks into your eyes, “if you’ve changed your mind, that’s okay. We’ll figure something out. It’s-“

You cut him off, “I haven’t changed my mind, I’m just..” you trail off, looking around you, “amazed I’m the last one to know!”

The both of you laugh, Azriel grabbing your face and kissing you deeply. When you pull away, all of the inner circle has winnowed in, Cassian shooting off confetti.

“Surprise!” They all yell, laughing. The joy thrumming through the bond with Azriel is all consuming from both ends, and you’re sure everyone around you can feel it.

Cassian approaches you, embracing you in a big hug. He kisses the top of your head, then crouches down so he’s eye level with your stomach.

“Hi Cassian Jr.” he says. Azriel scoffs, pushing him so he falls on the floor.

“What? I figured it out, I get naming rights!”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, dummy.” Mor tells him, giving him a pointed look as she sweeps you into a hug.

“I’m so happy for you,” she says, pulling back to look at you. “Me too,” you tell her. She looks at Azriel, who has let the happiness fade enough for his instincts to kick in, “not happy to deal with him during your pregnancy.”

You laugh, “it’ll be a miracle if he lets me leave the house.” He scoffs, as if he’d ever let you out of his sight again.

Feyre approaches you, cradling Nyx in her arms. “They’ll be, what, a year and a half apart?” You smile at her, cooing at the baby in her arms. “They’re going to be best friends,” you tell her.

All of you spend the evening laughing, drinking, eating all the sweets Elain baked, and soaking in all the joy from the newest addition to the family.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff

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lurkingshan · 3 months

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I've been thinking a lot about the depictions of generational trauma and parental accountability being presented in dramas lately. Since you've watched way more than me, especially outside of BLs, what are some shows that present or include parental accountability?

This is such a good question and one I have been thinking about a lot since Last Twilight episode 10 aired. Westerners often assume that because of Asian cultural norms around filial piety, parental authority, and respect for elders, we can never expect satisfying parental accountability in our Asian drama narratives. But that's not true! It's been done and done well. It’s because these values are so deeply embedded in most Asian cultures that Asian creators are the best positioned to speak on the harms they can cause, and will often embed these themes in their work.

Now, there is an important distinction to make here: the difference between what characters do, and what the story communicates. A character may choose to abide by honoring their parents at all costs, but the story can still communicate how harmful that is. A character may never apologize for something they have done wrong, but the story can still make it clear they have fucked up and hold them accountable for that via tangible consequences. Here are a few examples from bl to illustrate what I mean, and the different ways this can show up in dramas.

Bad Buddy

One of the most obvious examples of parental accountability in genre, and also a pretty full metal version of it. This entire story is about the damage Ming and Dissaya did their sons with their decades-long feud and insistence on pushing that trauma down on their children, and we got some extremely cathartic scenes of Pat and Pran telling their parents exactly what they thought about that. Of course, even though they raged at their parents, they never got the apologies they deserved (and likely never will) and still had to hide their relationship to appease their parents going forward. But that doesn't mean there was no accountability here. The entire narrative held these parents accountable by showing us how they were harming their sons, forcing them to reckon with it, and ultimately showing them settling into a form of resigned acceptance.

Until We Meet Again

This entire show is about Korn and In's reincarnated souls healing from the trauma of their tragic ending, which was brought upon by the familial pressure and rejection they experienced from their fathers. We not only saw Dean and Pharm work through this trauma and forge new bonds with family members, we saw the direct aftermath of their first deaths, the despair and regret their families felt, and the ceremony that tied their souls together as a result. It's big karmic accountability on a grand scale, and the show never flinched from letting us see exactly how much harm was caused by these parents, or how the tenets of filial piety resulted in Korn's despair that he couldn't be what his father wanted. Even more crucially, we were shown, not just told, the counterpoint impact of good parenting, when Dean and Pharm were accepted by their families in their second life.

Blueming

A rare example of an Asian parent being called to the carpet, feeling the wrongness of their actions, and actually apologizing for it. This does in fact happen in drama! Si Won's mom raised him to hate himself, to be ashamed of his body, to fake his way through life so people would like him, and boy did it do a lot of damage. The story showed us how this affected Si Won and his relationships deeply, and brought him to the point where it finally burst out of him. And his mom, to her credit, was dismayed to understand what she had done to her son. This show also gets bonus points for Da Un standing up to his own mother after she interferes in the film contest.

Bed Friend

Uea's mother's sins against him are numerous, and I will not go into them all in detail to spare my own sanity. She is an abusive parent so horrific that she can never be forgiven, and doesn't need to be. An apology from her would be utterly meaningless. Instead, the drama holds her to account via showing us what she's done to Uea and the work he has to do to heal from the trauma she caused, and ultimately having her son cut her out of his life. It's the biggest consequence she can ever face for her choices and that Uea finds the courage to do it is the story's biggest triumph.

What Did You Eat Yesterday?

On the subtler end of the scale, we have our beloved KNT, which weaves parental accountability through its story in the long, slow journey for Shiro's mother to accept who he is and the partner he has chosen in life. What I love most about this particular depiction is that it's not at all linear in nature. We see her make strides by finally acknowledging Kenji and inviting him to her home, and then backtrack by rescinding the offer due to her own discomfort, and then include him in her family planning to ensure he will be cared for after her death. She’s homophobic and traditional, but she loves her son and sees how much happier he is with Kenji in his life. She is constantly reckoning with that tension. And Shiro and Kenji, being of an older generation themselves, don't hold it against her, even as the show makes sure we understand how much it hurts them. They are not okay with it, but they do understand why she's like this, so they take what she can give and forgive the rest. It's a really touching portrayal of this kind of impasse in a family.

Moonlight Chicken

There are several different vectors of parental accountability in MLC. There is Heart confronting his parents over their neglect and abuse and finally demanding to be treated with dignity. There is Li Ming directly calling out his mother for how her life choices have affected him. And there is Li Ming and his surrogate dad, Jim, working out their issues so that they can communicate better, and so that Jim can learn to stop pushing his own fears and anxiety down onto the next generation. All of it handled with deftness, with care, and with clear purpose to examine the ways intergenerational trauma can perpetuate in the absence of accountability.

#holding out hope that aof comes through on this in lt but compared to his previous work in this arena ep 10 was definitely lacking #last twilight #bad buddy #until we meet again #blueming #bed friend the series #kinou nani tabeta #moonlight chicken #shan answers #shan recommends

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grey-gazania · 1 month

Note

I'm sorry someone bombarded you with bitchy comments 😭. While my To Read list is lengthy and continually lengthier (actually I think something of yours with her is on it), I'd like to hear more about Ianneth-Fingon-Maedhros if you want to talk about them.

@polutrope

It wasn't really upsetting, just annoying and honestly a little bit funny. This guy left comments on all six chapters of By Love or at Least Free Will, every time I updated the story, just objecting to the entire premise of the story and ranting about how Elves have incorruptible pure souls and are immune to lust. I was sorely tempted to respond with this quote from "Laws & Customs Among the Eldar":

Even when in after days, as the histories reveal, many of the Eldar in Middle-earth became corrupted, and their hearts darkened by the shadow that lies upon Arda, seldom is any tale told of deeds of lust among them.

'Seldom' is not the same thing as 'never', and furthermore, I don't think lust is even a major theme of my story. It's more about conflicting obligations and unruly hearts.

In the end I deleted the comments without responding, because I have a personal policy of not engaging with people who are acting in bad faith. But I have to assume that this guy has no actual hobbies if he spends his time hate-reading entire stories instead of just...closing the window and moving on with his life. Maybe take up crochet, bro? Or volunteer at a soup kitchen? Watch a TV show that you like? Grow some tomatoes? Do something that will be more fulfilling than typing long screeds on AO3. I promise it will make you a happier person.

Anyway. On to the actual topic of your ask! As you've probably noticed, I am very fond of Russingon. However, I am also very fond of Fingon as Gil-galad's father. At first I balanced these two ideas by keeping my Russingon ideas and my Fingon-father-of-Gil-galad ideas in two separate universes, but then I started really fleshing out Gil-galad's mother, and it made me think some thoughts. To repeat something I said to @cuarthol in a comment on AO3:

...half the genesis of Ianneth was seeing so many stories (in multiple fandoms, not just Tolkien) where the woman is written out of a canon or semi-canon couple to make room for a popular M/M ship instead, without the female character being treated with any respect. I decided that the female perspective on that situation would be a nice change of pace and interesting to write.

I'm not trying to point fingers -- I'll readily admit that I have my male faves just like the next gal and that it's fun to make them kiss -- but the wives and girlfriends don't get a lot of love in fandom, do they? And it doesn't help that the legendarium in general tends to be a bit of a sausage fest. So I decided that Fingon would have a wife and be in love with Maedhros. But instead of focusing just on the forbidden love, I was going to focus on the wife's feelings, too.

Ianneth ("bridge-woman") is one of the Northern Sindar, from the community that lives around Lake Mithrim. She's the daughter of Annael (yes, that Annael), whom I've imagined to be one of the more influential leaders among the Northern Sindar, and particularly among the Elves of Mithrim.

Her betrothal to Fingon starts as a political arrangement. Fingolfin loves Fingon dearly, of course, but he's also been hinting for a while now that Fingon really needs to settle down and start having kids so that there will be a strong line of heirs should Fingolfin die. After all, Argon's dead, and Turgon and Aredhel abruptly fucked off to god-knows-where some three hundred years ago and haven't been seen nor heard from since. Your dad needs some grandsons, Fingon, and this also seems like a ripe opportunity to strengthen the Noldor's alliance with the Northern Sindar.

I don't think political marriage is unknown among the Elves of Beleriand. (For one example in the text, see Celegorm trying to marry Luthien to force Doriath into an alliance.) And the quote I drew the title of the aforementioned Fingon/Ianneth story from, also found in "Laws and Customs Among the Eldar," is:

The Eldar wedded only once in life, and for love or at the least by free will upon either part.

Free will could easily mean, "Are we in love? No. But I'll still marry you, for the good of our peoples, and I'll bring some of Dad's soldiers along with me." That sort of thing happened all the time among real-world nobility, so I see no reason why it can't happen among Elven nobility in Beleriand, too.

At any rate, Fingolfin arranges for Fingon to meet the daughters of some of the more powerful leaders of the Northern Sindar, and he's hint-hint-hinting that Fingon really needs to pick one of them to be his wife. Fingon, having been in love with Maedhros since they were young in Valinor, is not exactly keen on this plan. But he goes along with it anyway because he is a dutiful son, he knows that his father is right about needing to strengthen the line of succession, and he also knows that revealing his (quite taboo!) relationship with Maedhros to his father would probably break Fingolfin's heart.

It takes Fingon a while to decide who to court, but he picks Ianneth because he likes her sense of humor; she has the guts to gently tease him at their first meeting, which he finds quite charming. He doesn't think he can love anyone besides Maedhros, but he does look at Ianneth and think, "This is a woman I could grow to care for and whose companionship I think could enjoy."

The trouble begins when, over the course of their courtship, Fingon starts falling in love with Ianneth without falling out of love with Maedhros. And he doesn't know what to do about this. He can't call off the marriage, and he doesn't want to break things off with Maedhros, so he decides to just...keep the whole thing with Maedhros a secret and marry Ianneth anyway. It's not a good decision, but really, are there any options here that won't end with someone getting hurt? I don't think so.

So we have Ianneth, blissfully ignorant of her husband's infidelity (for now); Fingon, in love with two people at once and feeling horribly guilty about it, but unwilling to pick one partner over the other; and Maedhros, resigned to the situation but still hurting because Fingon is no longer his alone.

Maedhros' feelings are complicated by the fact that, once he meets her, he finds that likes Ianneth. It would be easier, he thinks, if he could write her off as just a political necessity for Fingon, but it turns out that she's charming and intelligent and kind, and he can understand why Fingon loves her. His feelings soften further once Ereiniel is born, because Fingon is so happy being a father, and he loves Fingon, so how can he begrudge him that? There's a line from "Famous Blue Raincoat" by Leonard Cohen that I always think of when I'm getting into Maedhros' head at this point:

And thanks for the trouble you took from [his] eyes. I thought it was there for good, so I never tried.

Things tick along about as smoothly as they can for thirteen years, until, in the aftermath of Fingolfin's death during the Dagor Bragollach, as Fingon prepares to send Ianneth and Ereiniel to the Falas for their safety, Ianneth learns his secret. This is understandably devastating for her, and leaves her wondering if Fingon ever really loved her as she loved him, or if his marriage to her was simply a politically expedient sham.

Add to that the fact that she leaves for the Falas less than ten hours after this revelation and spends most of that ten hours either crying or asleep, as she's too upset to really talk to Fingon about what she's discovered, and it leaves her with this horrible knowledge and all the worst thoughts that come from it gnawing at her nearly a full year until Fingon next comes to Eglarest -- time that she spends as the sole caregiver for her young daughter, among strangers in a foreign city, without her mother or her sister or any of her friends who might have theoretically been able to offer her some emotional support.

Theoretically is a key word there, though, because even if, say, her sister had come to Eglarest, Ianneth isn't sure she'd even be able to tell her. For one thing, she can't help feeling ashamed, because infidelity is very rare among Elves, and she can't help thinking that maybe she failed as a wife somehow, and if she'd done something different, Fingon wouldn't have strayed. Then there's the fact that he's the High King of the Noldor, and if this gets out it could cause a crisis in the Noldorin government and possibly tank the alliance between the House of Fingolfin and the Northern Sindar. Ianneth is a practical woman, and she's of the Northern Sindar -- the people who have been living practically on Morgoth's doorstep for centuries, with no Maia queen's magic girdle to protect them. Their alliance with the Noldor is vital, and she would never want to jeopardize it.

So Ianneth is just...completely alone with this pain. She has no one to turn to, no one who can comfort her. And that pain is central to her story, and a not insignificant part of Ereiniel's story, too.

#polutrope #turns out when you ask me about my ocs i turn into treebeard #ianneth #fingon's wife #fingon #maedhros #gil galad #woman king au #my ocs

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cinnamonshay · 1 year

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Through the Ghost— Team Black

songfic inspired by though the ghost by shinedown

(Part two to All The Consequences)

soves - fly

(not 100% sure where I’m going with this story but I have some wild ideas, more or less a filler, there will be a part three)

part one , part two

taglist: @lyannastarkweather @m00n5t0n3 @allamericanuniverse @lilithskywalker

word count; 957

“The world will never know you like I do,”

Aemond’s eye held only bitter agony as Vhagar’s landing rumbled through the island as he dismounted, his silver hair lay flat against his shoulders, dark circles under his spiritless eye and his black eyepatch.

“Soves, Vhagar.” He monotonously bid the dragon, dropping his sword in the sand as he stepped forward, the guards waiting for the dragon to fly a safe distance away, although she remained upon the island, before surrounding him, he was marched at sword-point to the throne room where Rhaenyra and her sons were gathered, Jacaerys noticed the numb look on Aemond’s face, and he was the first to react, “Where is my sister? Where is Y/N!?” Jace’s voice was panic-stricken as he questioned Aemond, eyes searching for any answer, Rhaenyra bid the guards to disarm, and gently shooed Jace out of her way as she stepped in between the two men, standing directly in front of Aemond.

“Aemond.. Where is my daughter? Has something happened?” She questioned softly, fear filling her heart as he refused to look at her.

` Everything that mattered is just a city of dust `

Aemond choked back a sob, his composure and numbed façade ripped away from him in the face of his half-sister, the mother of his beloved, the woman who his deceased wife had gotten both her eye color and smile from. And Rhaenyra recoiled, “Tell me what has happened!” She demanded, as terror raced through her veins, she had not seen her daughter but twice after her wedding to Aemond. “I couldn’t save her, I couldn’t stop Vha-” he stopped, and reached his hand out, the firelight glinting on steel in his hand as he pressed the Valyrian steel necklace into Rhaenyra’s hand, drawing a ttremulous breath, “It is my fault, you are free to exact your revenge upon me.” He finished, finally forcing himself to meet Rhaenyra’s eyes as he shook, tears falling from his eye, and the pain of looking at your mother in the aftermath of what had occured, the guilt that shredded what small fragmented pieces of his heart that remained.

Rhaenyra braced herself upon the table with one shaking hand, her eyes shut tightly as a tear escaped and fell down her cheek. Lucerys was crying uncontrollably, “I will kill you for this!” Jacaerys shouted, rushing towards him before Rhaenyra shouted, “That is ENOUGH!” the fury in her shaking voice stopping Jace in his tracks as he looked at her in angry confusion,

“Enough blood has been spilled this day, I will not let heartbreak and impulse drive our decisions. Stay your hand unless I give the command.” Rhaenyra reprimanded her eldest son. “Y/N would not have wanted his death.”

` I can’t see you anymore `

Rhaenyra had Lucerys escort Aemond to a room, her face was blank, not betraying her thoughts as she told Aemond she must speak to her sons before making a decision.

“I heard you, you know.” Luc spoke softly, his eyes still trained on the floor as he lead Aemond through the maze of halls, “-trying to control Vhagar I mean. She is a warrior’s dragon though and she could never have known you didn’t wish death upon all who stood against you. Visenya was not known for her peace...” he trailed off for a second before continuing, "All I meant is I know you never would have intentionally harmed my sister.” Aemond barely heard the mumbles, but he managed to catch it, Aemond managed to release a shuddering exhale, as he stopped walking behind Lucerys, the window he stood in front of had Y/N Velaryon , Lucerys Velaryon , and Jacaerys Velaryon etched into stone of the window sill. He traced your name with his fingers as Lucerys held a bittersweet smile at the sight. “I wish it had been me.. I wish I had never taken to the skies. I would have her still by my side. And I cannot continue this war at my family’s side without sacrificing her memory. I swore no harm would come to her brothers at my hand.” Aemond spoke, his voice the weakest he had let it be since he the day he lost his eye.

` I used to wake up to the color of your soul `

Luc hesitantly wrapped his arms around Aemond, feeling him tense at the hug. “Your mistakes are not mine to forgive, but for what I can, I do. As I know Y/N would have.” Luc’s eyes were still red from the tears he had shed, but he vowed to live up to his sister, she had always been more or less a peaceable woman. She had carried all her strength in the way she loved.

Aemond’s heart burned as he drowned in guilt, here was his nephew who not two days ago he had threatened and chased through the skies, ending in his sister’s death, forgiving him and treating him with a sympathy he was sure he did not deserve. “Thank you, nephew.” was all he managed to answer with, his voice thickened with emotions, as his mind ran rampant, how could they be as evil as his mother had sworn, he had surely believed it after the loss of his eye, and yet he knew if it had been Helaena’s murderer confessing to his mother, his family would have them tortured to their death, immediately, regardless of what Helaena’s wishes might have been, and yet Rhaenyra valued her daughter’s memory above all else. If roles had been reversed Aegon would not be consoling the guilty party, nor would Aemond have. It spoke volumes to what his father had tried ceaselessly to impart upon his family. Forgiveness and tranquility in the face of darkness.

` Not a single lesson was learned `

#aemond targaryen #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #team black #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #lucerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year

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WAITING FOR A BUS

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Daemon Targaryen x Reader (MODERN)

Description: A new promotion at work prompts you to move into a small modest town with your boyfriend, Aemond Targaryen. There you meet a few friendly faces. It seems like life is going where it's supposed to. That is until you meet your new boss, Daemon Targaryen, who is your boyfriend's estranged uncle.

It doesn't help with the fact that you've been having dreams about him since birth.

masterlist | chapter twenty-one

Black was your husband's favorite shade - he wore it everywhere, from galas to charity events. Black was the color that reminded you of home - but you dreaded seeing it know.

"I offer my condolences," your small family walked towards the altar where Aegon was nearing Alicent's casket. "The doctor said she was living on borrowed time, we were all expecting it." Aegon replied with a bitter chuckle, staring at his mother's closed casket.

It wasn't his first funeral - the mother of his twins died the same way too. Aegon couldn't stand staring at his mother's dead body, with closed eyes and skin hardened from chemicals. "Who would've thought that she'd live five-years after her expected diagnosis?" he added, turning slowly to face you.

His eyes softened at the sight of Maekar. He had a soft spot for children. "Alicent was a radiant soul - she commanded respect wherever she went." Daemon compliments, his hands were wrapped around the small of your back - protecting you from the vipers.

"That I agree upon. Mom was scary - we all loved her for that." Aegon smiled gently walking away from the casket. You all walk beside him, finding your spot in one of the pews. "She died at the right time - she was in peace, the doctors told us that she didn't feel any pain." he informed and hum exits your lips.

"It's nice to hear that." you add with a deep breath. There were only a few guests occupying the chairs - it was too early in the morning for them to arrive just yet. Aegon leans on his chair, waving at his daughter, Jaehaera, who was playing outside of the clubhouse.

"We should stop talking about her - she doesn't like being spoken behind her back." he joked while squeezing Maekar's cheeks gently.

Maekar cooed at the touch of his cousin. Aegon's fingers were soft, cold and relaxing for the baby boy.

"By the gods, (Your name) he looks like you." he remarked with a slight chuckle. "Daemon swears different," you smile. Daemon's hands slither towards your own, entangling it with his comforting touch.

"Look at him properly, Egg. Maekar is a real Targaryen." he argued while combing through his son's hair.

"His hair, yeah - but look at his face." Aegon pointed out, earning an eye-roll from his uncle.

THE EULOGIES : Rhaenyra Strong

Rhaenyra steps into the podium, her eyes were wet with tears and with a heaving breath - she opens her mouth.

"Alicent was my childhood friend. She was eight years older than me. She was one of those girls that would braid your hair or help your mom around the house. She was my babysitter - and it was weird for her to marry my dad at first." she joked, earning a small laugh from the crowd.

"Our family didn't welcome her with open arms but slowly and surely she made her way into our hearts." she touched her chest, not bothering to wipe the tears that were flowing out of her eyes. "She was an educated woman who spent her life attending charity events, helping the poor and needy - and heaven is lucky to gain such an angel." she praised, looking at the casket behind her for a second.

"Wherever she is now - I'm sure that she's happy, and in peace."

THE EULOGIES: Helaena Targaryen

Helaena wasn't crying, her eyes weren't cloudy with mist, and her clothes weren't in mourning. But deep inside her heart - she was heaving for the loss of her mother.

"I can't remember my father, I was born a year before he died - and ever since I could remember ... my mother my only parent. She was the one who provided and took care of us." she praised with a shuddering breath. She didn't dare shed any tears.

"I remember going to college - and I didn't know what course I was going to take. I knew that everyone wanted me to follow my father's footsteps and to become an Engineer - but my mother knew better." she smiled, remembering the memory in clear color.

In all of the siblings - she was most closest to Alicent. She was the one who took care of her mother - changing her IV drip, and helping her go to the bathroom. She was the one most affected by her death.

"A day before enrollment - she told me that I could be whatever I wanted to be. That my skill in art was something that she was proud of. My mother shaped me, and turned me into the woman I am - now I don't know where to go because she's not walking behind me anymore." Helaena finishes and the tears finally flow out of her eyes.

Harwin walks to the podium, gently escorting his sister-in-law to her seat. Rhaenyra presses a kiss on the top of her head, whispering sweet nothings in an effort to console her.

"Who are these righteous ones? These saints who are in heaven?" Daemon hears the loud voice of Otto Hightower. He was never the one to listen during the mass - matter of fact, he was atheist. If the gods were real, they wouldn't allow injustice to happen. God wouldn't allow injustice to persevere around the world.

The Catholics and the religious had their explaination - but he didn't care for them. He was content with his beliefs - and his efforts in becoming a better person. After all, the purpose of religion was to become a better member in society.

He walks towards the garden, past the small fountain that he used to clog with coins. His mind drifts off to his nephew, Aemond, Alicent's favorite child. Cain to Abel. The one who wielded the rock against the world. He sees the boy sitting on one of the benches - and like a grown uncle, he still sees Aemond as a child.

"Aemond." he says firmly, like a man knocking on a little boy's door. "Daemon," the boy turns around - and the eyepatch was no longer in his eye. They were akin to each other - their names were anagram of each other names. Daemon scorns it - but he sees a piece of himself inside Aemond.

"Go away." he added, reminiscent of the conversation they had decades ago, only this time Viserys wasn't present to torment his son physically - but the mental scars remain.

"Why weren't you there?" Daemon asked, circling the man cautiously.

In the back of his mind, he could smell the scent of candy-canes and eggnog. He was transported to the boy's childhood room.

"It's not appropriate for me to be there, I promise you." the boy replied smugly, not willing to let go of his pride just yet.

"It's your mother's funeral - becoming a horrible human being doesn't mean that you're not allowed to be there." the older man replies with the tilt of a hat. "Fuck off." Aemond gritted his teeth. "I've already done what I can - four years in a mental institution and I'm back here." he grumbled, unable to meet his uncle's eyes.

Daemon keeps staring at the man - waiting for him to click and rant. "I fucking regret what I did. Is that what you want to hear?" Aemond raised his voice, clenching his fists and taking deep breaths.

Instead of responding to his nephew, Daemon places his hands behind his back - raising to his full height and feigning ignorance to everything that was happening. "You are welcome inside," he finished while walking away - not wanting to go back to the mass just yet.

Once the eulogies and the second-day mass was over, the family returned home (Harwin and Laenor were left behind in the Clubhouse) to rest and reunite with each other. Visenya took a quick liking to her cousin, always playing with his round cheeks and white hair. "Soft bones, Vissy - please be careful." Rhaenyra warned, already saying 'careful' for the third time in a row. "Kay mama." the girl responded while continuing to touch the baby.

"I'm sorry about Visenya - its her first time seeing a baby." Rhaenyra's eyes softened while attempting to pull her daughter away. You chuckle softly, combing through Maekar's hair.

"It's fine, plus - Maekar hasn't been around another kid too." you confirm hearing the children's laughter radiate through the house. This was your third time inside Alicent's house - your first time without her baking cookies for you.

Aemond stares at the portrait of his father - to be honest, he couldn't remember the story behind the picture. He seemed to be smiling, but the joy wasn't reaching his eyes - his father was carrying him on his back, holding a football and posing for the camera. He was wearing that stupid Casio watch - even the look of the watch brought back memories that he hid long ago.

He remembers being hit on his behind, crying for his mother and his siblings could do nothing but watch. He just wanted to touch his father's watch and he was rewarded with punishment.

"Maybe it's time to make peace with our parents." Aegon cleared his throat leaning on the door-frame. Their parents weren't perfect - but they provided and took care of them. "Father was afraid of going back into poverty - and mother was afraid of him." he explained, remembering their relationship very clearly.

"I can forgive mom, but I'm not forgiving him." Aemond clenched his fist, placing all of the portraits inside a box. "He was a good dad to Rhaenyra - I don't know why he wasn't good to us." Aegon hummed, helping his brother hide all the photographs.

"Because we weren't worth changing for." Aemond laughed darkly, closing the box in his hands. "He never loved us, that's for sure - but mom did. Mom loved us with all her heart." he mused.

It was the last day of the funeral - Alicent's body was lowered into the ground and the crowd was beginning to disperse. The only ones left behind were Daemon and Aemond. "I hope that you'll be okay after this." the older man hummed, holding an umbrella to protect him from the sun (a habit he picked up while being in an Asian country.)

"You're an orphan now - Aemond. There's some things you need to let go." Daemon advised, maintaining his distance. He loathed the man, hated him with all of his soul - but Aemond was still his family, the blood of his blood, the child he comforted once upon a time. Monsters weren't born, they were made.

He holds out a small box. The world 'CASIO' was spelled in bold letters. The box was dusty - filled with cobwebs, but Aemond knew what it was. "I hope that you're able to break free from our generational chains - the sins of our past. (Your name) has not forgiven you, and she never will - I hope that you can forgive yourself." he added, walking closer to the boy.

Daemon wonders if there was something he could've done to prevent Aemond's decline. He wonders if he should've stopped his brother from hurting the little boy. He thinks about the life they could've had - the life the boy could've had.

He hands the watch to Aemond.

And with a last breath, he bids his silent farewell.

He's got a lot to live without. As he never met, what could've been Aemond.

Will he forgive himself? Or will the cycle repeat again?

taglist: @urmomsgirlfriend1 @namelesslosers @immyowndefender @ammo2022 @perihelioneclipse @gracielikegrapes @joliettes@ammo23

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kingdomhate · 5 months

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First Glance (Part Seven)

Procrastinate as you both may, eventually you both had to face what the Council had in mind as a punishment for your guys' sudden actions. When you both boarded the ship in order to go back to Coruscant, Anakin stayed as close to you as possible. "I'm going to take responsibility," He advises you. "You don't have to pay for what I did." You scoff, your eyes burning into his. "Who said I didn't want to take some blame?" He glares at you almost immediately, but his eyes inform you that you might've went too far. "What? Why would you want to do that?"

"What do you mean, 'why'? Because I agreed to go with you. That makes me responsible for myself, so why would I just hide behind you and make myself look like a victim when I'm not?" Anakin's gaze darts away, as he processes what you say. As you gaze out the windows, at all the near and far systems and planets, Anakin finds himself deep into a sea of thought. The thoughts of losing you, losing the special relationship between you because of his need to have gone and found his mother. Was it worth it? Was it? The ship landed at Coruscant not too long after his train of thoughts, and you both had to face repercussions.

Stepping off the ship, and beginning the anticipating walk into the Jedi Temple, Anakin had to make sure the two of you weren't presumed to have run off to escape the Jedi Order. Entering the Temple, and meeting the heavy and stress-inducing gaze of the many Jedi Masters. "Young Y\N and young Skywalker..." Began your master, Mace Windu, his eyes resembling steel as they rested upon the two of you. Yoda's eyes, however, went to your guys' clothing. "Gone to another planet, you have. Where?"

Anakin steps forward. "To Tatooine, Master." Yoda nods and leans back. From the corner of your eye, you can visibly see Obi-Wan's eyes scanning the rest of the Jedi Master's body language and facial expressions. "And why?" You remain silent, under the words of Anakin and the Council. "Because I was having nightmares of my mother, Master. I suspected she was in danger." Your eyes immediately go to study what the Council, specifically Obi-Wan, Yoda and Windu thought of Anakin's words. "So you decided to bring Y\N with you? To potentially endanger her because you suspected your mother was in danger?" Questioned Windu. Anakin nodded. "Wait, wait, Master, he simply asked me if I would like to come and I didn't deny him!"

Windu's, Yoda's and the entire Council's eyes, followed by Anakin's eyes snapped to you. "Why?" Obi-Wan demanded quickly, his eyes focused intently upon you. "Because it's what a friend would do. A friend would offer comfort to someone when they need it. That's what I did." Yoda smiled a bit and then met your gaze. "That, dear padawan, is admirable." Windu nodded slightly. "Of course. But, Y\N, you need to understand that it is not of a Jedi to just up and leave. Especially you." With a heavy and audible sigh, you fought to keep from bursting out again, unfortunately, your will was broken quickly. "But aren't the Jedi supposed to comfort and protect? To give up what they have in order to be what someone needs? Aren't we selfless? And compassionate?" You argue fiercely, and while it was a seemingly steady argument, it fell to deaf ears.

"The punishment in which you both will be receiving respectably will be the inability to see each other, and to see anyone else for an undecided time. For you, Y\N, you will be resuming training to take the trials but shall not be allowed on missions until told so." Windu explained to you, his eyes both serious but understandably embittered. You sigh softly but nod at his words, knowing you had to face the consequences at some point.

"Well, Anakin. The punishment for you and your actions is to go back to the basics of the Force and what it means to be a Jedi, followed by a setback in your taking the trials." Sighed Obi-Wan as he faced his padawan. Anakin's body language, as he stood with his arms by his sides and his eyes darting patiently from each Jedi Master and whomever is speaking, but his head was noticeably hung, as if he was embarrassed. "Very well then. The meeting is adjourned." Announced Yoda as he stood up from his seat, followed by the rest of the Masters. With a heavy heart and swallowing a most bitter pill, you sweep back to your room, dressing back into your standard given Jedi robes and replacing your lightsaber on your hip. Glaring at the mirror, you were faced with the reality of your problems. Now, you couldn't see Anakin for however long and you were blocked from going on missions.

Meanwhile, Anakin was faced with his punishment while he was gazing at the door to your room. He purposely took the route to your bedroom to see you a last time, but upon the obvious closed door, he decided to just make his way to his quarters. Of course he should've considered the danger he put you in, but it never seemed like he was openly placing you in danger, rather placing you in his care, and him in yours. Was it wrong of him to take you with him? Yes, to the Council but it seemed to have so much more depth than a simple yes.

It felt like he needed the care and the comfort of you in such a way it made him feel like he was obligated to have you accompany him. But was that wrong? What was he feeling when he was around you? Simple friendship or was it something more? No, that couldn't happen. You both were Jedi trainees, with a close bond, but it was not like he felt attached to you. Or maybe he did? What else could explain how he kept coming back to you since the night you both met? He needed to know.

Tags:

@sweetcheesecakesblog

@haydenpookiebear

(As always, let me know if you'd like to be added\taken off of my taglist!)

#star wars #fluff #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #hope you enjoy #hayden christensen #first glance'#series #part seven #part eight out tomorrow!

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marvelmaniac715 · 7 days

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I can’t remember if I’ve posted this before or not but this is a winter themed gothic horror story I wrote for a class in December 2022 which I could and should probably improve upon at some point:

At first I wasn’t frightened. Of course, the notion was so absurd that it was easy enough to laugh off as a figment of my addled, sleep-deprived imagination. The construct of a strained psyche, nothing more. The idea that my daughter’s haphazardly built snowman was a living, breathing being was outlandish.

The thought of this concept came about when my five year old daughter Mathilde came running inside to me, insisting that her new friend was moving. Her mother and I indulged this fantasy when it became clear that the child simply wouldn’t see sense, and a small saucer’s worth of table scraps was left outside for ‘Mr Frost’ as he was now known, as Mathilde insisted that he was hungry.

Mathilde was heartbroken when we had to deconstruct the snowman in order to shovel our front path and retrieve my hat and scarf, she wept for hours on end. We couldn’t convince her to move from the window all of that day. At bedtime, we had to pry her away with our full strength in order to shift her.

My wife and I had hoped that she would be in better spirits by the morning, but alas, she was as solemn as the day before. Some friends of hers from school came over asking to play, but she refused. It was unsettling to see such grief from such a young child, who had no concept of death. Both sets of grandparents were still alive, and the family pet was a foul tempered cat named Spice who was still very much in the prime of life.

Two more days passed in a similar fashion, but after three days, my wife and I woke up to Mathilde bouncing up and down excitedly on our bed, imploring us to come outside. We noticed that she was already in her winter coat (half in, to be precise, she always struggled with the sleeves) and her face was flushed rose pink with the cold.

We were so thrilled to see her return to her former self that we immediately agreed to come downstairs to see what miraculous thing has restored her spirit. But when I went to grab my hat and scarf from the hook, they weren’t there. A feeling of deep wrongness took root in the pit of my stomach, and I shared an anxious glance with my wife. Could Mathilde have possibly rebuilt her snowman whilst we slept?

Sure enough, right outside, where he had stood less than a week before, was Mr Frost, glaring cooly from his coal eyes, gleaming in a solitary ray of early morning sunlight. Mathilde was beaming as she went to throw her arms around her cold companion, but her joy was quelled when my wife Gretchen gently admonished her.

“Now Mathilde, what have we told you about your friend here? He prevents us from leaving the house, and your Papa needs his hat and scarf. And it was naughty of you to sneak out at night, anything could have happened to you!”

Slightly downhearted but still glowing with the faintest hint of excitement, Mathilde grinned conspiratorially and whispered.

“But Mama, I was asleep all night, I came downstairs to fetch a glass of water and saw him outside. Don’t you see? He’s come back to me!”

This… this was clearly the fantasy of a foolish child, there was no conceivable way that a snowman (a manmade creation) could build itself overnight. Mathilde must have been trying to lie her way out of punishment, but the lie was so obvious that it was easy to see through it.

We had to deconstruct the snowman again, of course, but this time, Mathilde didn’t cry. Instead, she stood still, smiling eerily as she gazed at the front door, just beyond which lay the remains of her companion. My wife and I were unsettled, and this image stuck with me as I went to bed that night, I couldn’t sleep.

Against my better judgement, I crept downstairs and took my coat from its hook. Trying desperately to make no sound, I painstakingly opened the door, and each second my hand was exposed to the air the wind nipped at my skin. I couldn’t find my gloves. Or my hat. But Mathilde was sound asleep, I’d made sure to lock her door and window. She couldn’t have done this.

The moment I stepped outside, I was met with a bone chilling sight. The wind itself whipped the snow skywards, moulding it into a disturbingly familiar shape. My hat and gloves rose into the air, the gloves settling on two sticks that had jerked upwards like a macabre marionette, and the hat just hovering in empty space. But not for long.

The snow had settled into its final resting place, the shape of a snowman. I suddenly felt the greatest urge to rush up to my daughter’s room and apologise profusely. She was telling the truth all along, and I had dismissed her as a foolish child.

The snowman’s coal mouth grinned at me in satisfaction. The sticks jolted forwards, reaching out towards me. Then the wind blew fiercely, pelting me with angry hail and bullet-like snowflakes. This wind wrapped around the snowman and lifted it (whole) into the air. With one powerful blast, it exploded, showering the ground with snow and coal.

Shaken by what I had seen, I returned to bed, but the cold clung to me like a blanket, or more fittingly, a funeral shroud. I couldn’t shake it, even when I went entirely under my duvet. It was like the snowman was right there behind me, breathing down my neck, smiling and smiling.

It wouldn’t stop. Why wouldn’t it stop? Everywhere I went, every time I went outside or just sat in my kitchen, it was there. Mathilde was delighted to find her friend waiting outside for her, Gretchen just assumed that I had caved in and decided to let her have her snowman. She didn’t understand. When I tried to explain the horrors I had witnessed, she had merely laughed and told me that I was a wonderful father for indulging my child’s fantasies.

It occurred to me that Mathilde would probably know something about this. Sure enough, when I asked if she knew how he kept coming back, she beamed at me and invited me to sit down next to her. Once I was settled, and Mathilde had been assured that her mother was not around, she whispered in my ear.

“The day I built him, I accidentally spilled some water I had taken from Moon Rock Lake onto the snow he was made from. The second he had a mouth, he whispered to me that we would be best friends forever, and that he would never ever leave me. I’m so glad you’ve seen him come back too, Papa, now I have someone else to play with!”

Moon Rock Lake was said to be cursed by a vengeful witch centuries ago, spurned by a lover who went on to wed another. But that was a simple story that the village elders told to children to stop them from playing in our main water source, or so I was led to believe. There was no other explanation for what I had seen though, so I didn’t know what to think.

That night, I didn’t care if I was heard. I raced downstairs and threw open the front door. I paused to grab a shovel, but forgot my coat in my rush to get outside. Outside, I rushed at the snowman and whacked it repeatedly with my shovel until it was no more. I did what I could to separate the snow into several piles, far apart from each other, and I burned the coal, and the sticks. Regretfully, I had to burn my hat and gloves as well. Now this snow demon would be vanquished.

I slept peacefully that night, but when I awoke, my wife Gretchen was not beside me. The house was deathly silent. I crept downstairs in fright, constantly looking over my shoulder as if I was being followed. Sitting near the front door with a knife in hand was my daughter, Mathilde. She tapped the knife against the door and stared at me unblinkingly. Then she spoke.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Papa. You shouldn’t have done that at all.”

#original story #winter #gothic horror #snowman #my writing

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harvest-of-the-present · 2 months

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hi! i am voraciously consuming info about selene and i saw ur post about associating her with creativity and that just. clicked so well. i think its a beautiful interpretation. adding another layer, most artists love drawing / get struck with inspiration at night.

i was wondering if i could hear more about ur experiences with her? what does her presence feel like, or how have u feel that ur life has changed since you've been working with her? thank you so much <3

hello! I'll gladly talk about Selene<3 It's so nice to know that that post clicked that well with you, and you also point out a really interesting fact to know related to it! I can already see this getting a bit long so I'm gonna continue under the read more, I hope this helps somehow in your search for info about her and others' experiences with her!

If I remember correctly, when I first thought about starting to research about her was because my mother told me Selene was the other name she had been thinking of giving me. And that surprised me— the name of a goddess herself, and not exactly one that is common in my country. I think she had mentioned it to me way before, and I remember using it or some variations of it as nicknames online in early years of high school. So, when I was reminded of it and I already had my pagan lenses on, it clicked in a different way.

I felt like I was slowly recognising little references of her in my life, and decided to try worship her out of admiration and respect, because those little details had been important to me in one way or another, and it just felt like the right thing to do even though I was just starting as a worshipper and felt insecure about many things, especially about time. Time has been something I've been struggling with when it comes to make space to my spiritual life in my days, but it didn't seem to bother her. She always remained patient. It was as if she knew when I would not be able to continue and that better moments for that would come.

Because I took a break from it all around two years ago. I hadn't been spending time on my religious practice almost at all and one day suddenly felt the need to do a tarot reading. To check, as if I needed to receive something. And there she was, alongside another deity that finished his work with me at the time. I knew this other deity was waving goodbye at me, but Selene's reading felt different, as if she smiled with a see you soon in her lips. It was obvious I needed a break, due to my circumstances and how I had been dealing with all of that for some time, but despite all my doubts and little dedication at the time, her reading felt comforting, as if she promised a better moment would arrive and she would be there to continue with me when that time came.

And that time was last year, when I slowly got in touch with it all again and references to her name appeared even when I researched other deities. And she felt so welcoming and nurturing. She's like a light smiling upon you, caring to the point of knowing about those you care about. In that one post about creativity I mentioned she appeared in a friend's dream, and that friend is a penpal of mine. I can see myself associating her with distance friendships and letters to people who are dear to us because of that, too. But yes, she appeared in that friend's dream and not long after a tarot reading where she told me something about connecting with people like myself, about finding people with similar interests that would understand me. And that was years ago, and that penpal is now one of my closest friends.

There's also the topic of dreams and the night. I've thought of her while being out at night alone, scared that something would happen, and I would look at the sky or the moon and feel like I had something to focus on instead of my worry, kind of as if she reassured me that things would go fine.

I'm also the kind of person who has days of randomly waking up at night because of dreams, as if I needed to wake up right after having them in order to remember them. Some of those nights happened right after I wrote a prayer to her related to dreams, and I honestly tried to talk with her to have full nights of rest again because it was happening one day after the other haha. at least that specific time, I associated that experience with her. In other times when it has happened, I pray for safe dreams and a peaceful sleep. and if I still wake up too early or during the night, I will often see the Moon shining right through my room's window. It's happened so many times that it's gotten hard to think of it as just a coincidence.

So yeah, this could be a great summary of my experience with her :D! She's also recently helped me accept the boundaries I need instead of avoiding them because I feared to be too much, and encouraged me to get a tarot deck by sending a random tarot sticker with a moon my way ! she's a patient good listener that may give the feeling that she listens more than talks, but she will make herself known when you need her or wants to encourage you on something 💜

#selene deity #selene #my experience #paganblr #deity worship #hellenic polytheism #helpol #hellenic polythiest #paganism #hellenic pagan #hellenism #hellenic paganism

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the-power-of-stuff · 2 months

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Just sat through the first three NATLA live els and have so many thoughts - the first thing I did was come straight over to your blog because why wouldn’t I?!?

A part of me LOVES Suki’s awkwardness. In fact, none of the gripes I have with Suki and Sokka aren’t about Suki and Sokka and their characterisation themselves, but rather just the execution.

But anyways — the vibe I’m getting is that Season 2 (Book 1? I’m not sure if they’re going by seasons or books) is laying down the groundwork for some of the characters. We know they’re doing that with Azula (and the Fire Lord fam as a whole), but it seems like they’re sort of doing the same with Katara, where they’re starting off with her being a traumatised, almost-shy 14 year old girl who comes into her own as the season progresses.

While I haven’t watched the show in it’s entirety — I probably should have before sending this ask in — I’m assuming this is all leading up to her confrontation with Pakku and role in defending the Northern Water Tribe towards the end of the season. And then that new found confidence in herself and her waterbending carries though to season 2, where we’ll (presumably) find a more fiery, outspoken Katara after I’m guessing a somewhat lengthy time jump?

Anyway — back to Suki. My question to you is, if I’m right in my theory about Katara (and all the others, tbh… I feel like what I said for K can apply to pretty much any of the gaang at this point), do you think the same could be said for Suki and her own development?

We see Suki at the start of ep 2 as a fierce yet slightly socially awkward, sheltered warrior who wants to leave her village and aid in the fight against the Fire Nation and travel the world. As it goes, she does leave her village, and perhaps becomes the confident and sassy (and awful at puns) girl we all know and love, all through her experiences aiding in the war and travelling the world?

Of course, this would mean that her development would largely happen off-screen… but even still, Suki was more familiar towards the end of the episode. She was the one who initiated the kiss, she made her feelings and mostly gratitude known to Sokka by giving him her fan, she told the gaang they had to leave.

It feels like that’s the route Albert Kim is going. He’s made it clear that it’s a re imagination and not a 1:1 adaptation. He clearly wants the show to have its own identity to some extent (e.g. the genocide actually being shown and basically being a mini prologue to the series) and this is his way of doing so through characterisation.

I’ve written way more than I intended, so sorry for this long winded tangent. But what I mean to ask is, do you think in season 2 we’ll see a Suki more similar to the og (while of course still being her own).

I’d love to know what you think! x

Ahh, this makes me so happy!! Thank you so much for enjoying this blog, and for sharing your thoughts and sending this ask! <3 (And absolutely no need to apologize for writing so much, either! Goodness knows I could go on forever about this stuff.)

I think you make a really good point about characterization in the LA, and the potential for certain traits (like Katara's fieriness) to develop more over time. And I've been thinking about it in terms of what we already know about LA Suki that could get built upon in later seasons.

I definitely think it would make sense for us to see Suki come out of her shell a bit more in season 2, although there are some things in the LA that make it hard for me to imagine Suki being quite as sassy as her animated counterpart, just because of the sort of foundation it gives us for her personality.

For one, there's Suki's interactions with her mother. If anyone were going to be on the receiving end of a teenage daughter's sass, even if that sass is buried too deep in shyness to come out around said daughter's crush, it would be her mother. And while we kinda sorta see Suki get a little petulant with Yukari (her delivery of "I'm not too young, I just haven't seen the world" is kind of a swipe? but is really very heartfelt), she overall seems like a well-behaved, obedient daughter. This isn't a King Triton/Ariel situation where you get the impression they've had this conversation a million times before and Yukari is exasperated by Suki always questioning her authority. In fact, it feels like the first time Yukari's even considered that Suki might want something more, and she seems pretty amenable to it, if the fact that she didn't storm into the dojo to break up Sokka and Suki's near-makeout session is any indication. So, even in these private moments where you'd assume Suki is more herself, there isn't much sass to be seen.

(Somewhat related to this, I had a funny sort of "Huh!" reaction to Yukari's, "Such a fierce warrior. And yet such a kind heart." Not that I don't think Suki is kind! It's just not one of the first words I would use to describe her. And not that I would've expected Yukari to say, "Such a fierce warrior. And yet also kind of a pill because you're always giving me lip." But that bit of dialogue is there for the audience's benefit; it was a choice the writers made to tell us what they think is important for us to know about Suki's character. So I had a moment of, "Oh, that's the takeaway we're supposed to have? Interesting...")

And then there's Suki's later interactions with Sokka. On the one hand, when they're training together, the romantic tension is through the roof; it's all very new and interesting for them and it makes sense that they'd still be a little shy about it. On the other hand, Suki gets comfortable enough around Sokka at this point to 1) remove her makeup, 2) have a deep conversation with him, and 3) touch him on the chest. We don't see her show the same awkwardness from earlier in the episode, but she also continues to be very serious. When Sokka pins her, and then she flips them over while he's mid-celebration, she follows up with a useful tip about fighting, and it's delivered completely straight (if a little breathless). No little jokes or jabs. No "Don't get cocky" or knowing smirks.

However, we are not completely without sass! There are a couple moments in particular that I feel have some of that familiar Suki flair.

First...

Lookit her smirky little "come at me, bro" face! That face 100% says, "C'mon then, let's see it, if you're so tough." There's a playfulness here, too, which we know is very much a part of her relationship with Sokka in the animated show. (This Suki up here? I could easily see this Suki saying, "😠I'm an elite warrior who's trained for many years in the art of stealth... I think I could get you backstage!😁")

And then...

The thing I love about this is that she's all, "Nuh uh, I don't think so" (her little head wiggle!), but a fraction of a second ago she was staring blatantly at that boy's mouth. Nice try, sweetheart, but you ain't foolin' anybody. (This Suki is the Suki who smacks her forehead when her boyfriend tells terrible puns to actor-Sokka but who later gazes at him adoringly when he absolutely loses his shit because actor-Sokka actually said "rocky relationship" on stage.)

So...I guess the tl;dr answer to your question is, kind of? I can't see LA Suki getting to "Sorry, Warden, you're my prisoner now" levels of sass, but that's not really the tone the LA is going for anyway. I think we'll see her being very bold (a la taking the initiative to kiss Sokka) and very compassionate (saving Appa—I hope!!), and it makes total sense that, next time we see her, she'll be way more confident than the girl who could barely say a single word to Sokka before attempting to strangle him by way of flirtation. I also hope we'll get to see more of her playfulness! Maybe even some successful flirting? Probably not as forward as "Look at you, sleeveless guy...been workin' out?" but I'd settle for a sly head tilt and a cheeky little grin. And based on what we know of her so far, I don't think that's too much to ask. ;)

#natla #natla spoilers #sukka #suki #gifs #my gifs #live action atla #netflix atla #spoilers #sokka x suki #suki x sokka #suki meta #meta #analysis #answered asks

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ask-cordelia-sakamaki · 1 year

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Hello there! (Submission from @mattalara)

This little thing came to my mind out of nowhere and I thought I could share it. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if I butchered it in some parts.

T.W: mention of abuse and sexual harassment.

The night had always been misterious and cold, scary as well sometimes.

Those nights she used to lay down in bed and feel safe, shielded by the warm hug of the sheets in a such a childish fashion that she felt ashamed of her own behavior in different occasions.

And yet, even those childish moment where she curled around one of the old pushies in her home were the happiest moments she could think about, now that she was laying in that cold room, feeling so vulnerable that she could have been standing bare naked in a wood for the predators and the weather to feast upon and it wouldn't have changed a thing as the predators were inside that house with her. She could hear their steps as they walked the corridor outside her door, slowly, like they wanted her to hear them, to listen to her captors and shiver in bed and praying for them to stop there.

Oh, she hated those nights, how they turned something she once did daily into something she hated that much. Praying the Lord had been something that gave her hope and made her feel protected and guided in her steps, but that hope was nothing more than a double-edged sword, something who now gave her a false hope of security that the monsters outside the door would shatter with no mercy and it was painful, every night she was able to hope again and feel that safe sensation, each one of those nights would end up the same, but more and more painful as every hope, every dream of freedom, was brutally ripped from her.

And worse than that, was the hate she started to feel for herself.

She tried to fight, from the very first day she had been trapped in that hellish place, she screamed at them, she even got as far as slapping them when they tried to use her as mere food or to violate her body, nothing ever worked and she couldn't run away, she had nowhere to go and they loved a good chase, it only served to make them more excited, more ferocious, more violent (if it was even possible for them to get worst than their usual self). She was at their mercy and knowing that fighting them would only bring more pain, she stopped fighting, merely protesting with a fragile voice as they mocked and used her, so the disgust and self-hate came.

She was like a rabbit against the jaws of a wolf: useless and hopeless and while she kept repeating herself that she wasn't at fault, that she shouldn't blame herself for being a mere human against six vampires, she couldn't stop.

That situation was slowly bringing her to the point of breakdown.

<< Difficult night, darling? >>

Jumping at the sudden and unknown voice, the girl sat in her bed looking at the stranger inside the room: it was a woman with long purple hair, sitting in front of the mirror but with no reflection to look back at her and that told the girl everything she needed to know.

"Is she here to torment me as well?"

<< Oh, my poor Yui, you have nothing to be afraid of. >>

Yui wasn't surprised that a supernatural being was able to hear her thoughts, nor that she already knew her name, it was more surprised to see her face when she turned around.

The vampiress was beautiful, the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, yet her face was familiar, Yui remembered those emerald snake-like eyes, but she couldn't recall where or when she first saw them.

<< I'm here to help you, darling. >>

The voice of the vampiress was kind, it felt warm, like the voice of a mother soothing her child after a nightmare, but the girl knew really well to not trust a gentle voice and a smile (Laito taught her really well).

<< Who are you? You look... familiar. >>

<< Oh, you probably saw my paintings... >>

The human girl recoiled slowly as the woman stood up from the chair, slowly approaching her like she was trying to not scare her.

<< ... or maybe, probably, my sons already told you those lies they keep spreading about me. >>

There she remembered, it hit her suddently, like Subaru's fist against any of the house's wall.

<< Cordelia Sakamaki... >>

<< That's right dear~ >>

Yui was confused, but wary, she remembered every word Laito told about his mother, he was the only one of the triplet who was not prone to become aggressive while talking and being quite chatty (usually to get her to stay put and listen to him while he chose how to taint and violate her), he would let some detail slip from his lips now and then and none of those were pleasant.

<< What are you doing here? I thought you were dead... >>

Asked Yui, her voice sounded like a whisper and she hoped the vampiress wasn't offended by her question.

<< Unfortunately, I am. >>

Cordelia sat on the bed, right next to her, the smile never left her lips.

<< I am simply visiting your dreams, do you know how? >>

Yui shook her head.

<< I am more than a mere low rank vampire, my dear, I am powerful, more than each one of the vermins living inside this place and tainting my memory with their twisted lies. I am special and as they didn't give my body the grace of a proper burial, my spirit is not at peace, making it easier to visit the livings. >>

<< Alright... ? >>

The blonde girl wasn't sure that was the truth, but then again, she found out vampires were real and a dead-undead person was in front of her, talking like it was a normal day, she had no right to be skeptical.

<< But why do you want to talk with me? >>

<< Because, my dear, I want to help you. >>

<< ...What? >>

<< Yes. >>

Cordelia leaned closer, her eyes locked in Yui's.

<< You know well the lies they spoke, you felt on your own body and mind the cruelty of my sons and their brothers and you surely saw Kanato's "dolls" collection. I felt it too and I can't stand the thought of another innocent soul suffering my fate. >>

<< And how do I know I can trust you? >>

Where did that courage came from?

Not even Yui herself knew, she was just tired of being used and tricked by fake smiles and small gentle gestures that only served to give her the illusion ber captors do cared a bit about her, for all she knew, Cordelia could have been lying as well in that moment.

<< You don't. >>

Giggled the vampiress, an hand slightly covering her lips, but her eyes never left the girl's.

<< But tell me, please, why shouldn't you take the risk? All you got here is suffering, all my sons and the others can offer you is a very short life of abuse, of being used as no more than a cup of blood to sip from and a doll to use and throw away, you know really well what awaits you, don't you... >>

<< I do... >>

<< Then why keep suffering? Why keeping up with the constant torture? My sweet girl, you don't deserve this, nobody deserve the pain they are inflicting you for pure amusement and- >>

<< Then why? >>

Cordelia shut her lips at the sudden interruption, looking at the tears filling up Yui's eyes.

<< Why is this happening to me? What did I ever do?! >>

<< Aw, poor little one, you did nothing. >>

With a gloved hand, the vampiress held Yui's chin, lifting gently her head as she stared at her, her voice a low mormour as she said: "Trust in me darling, I will keep you safe from the pain".

In any other occasion, the girl wouldn't have trusted a vampire that easily, but as those eyes kept hers obstage, like a snake hypnotizing the mouse in it's coils, she found herself nodding.

She had nothing left to loose, a little risk couldn't hurt.

<< Now go to sleep, let me save you... >>

She closed her eyes, letting her body rest against the strangely warm embrace of the vampiress as she held on to her, for the safety she desperately yearned, letting the snake wrap her coils around her.

She never saw the gentle, almost maternal smile turn into a predatory grin.

~~~~

<< Is she still aslepp? >>

<< Yes, Kanato. >>

Reiji looked up from Yui's sleeping body, the girl looked like she was comatose.

She didn't react to anything, not to their words, nor their bites or their hands shaking her sleeping form, but her heart was beating normally, so she had to be alive.

<< What should we do? >>

Asked Shuu.

<< How should I know? I never saw a human falling into a never-ending sleep before. >>

<< Then how do you know it won't en- >>

The boys were suddently interrupted by an high-pitched sound, like the cry of a scared bird wich cage was being shaked by a cat.

Kanato was suddently far from the bed, his eyes wide open with in a shocked expression as he looked at "Yui", the girl who had been uncouncious a few seconds prior and now was sitting up, looking down at her hands as her hair blocked the view.

<< Bitch-chan? >>

Called Laito, what answered was a small giggle, like a gentle lullaby that turned suddently into a creepy, terrifying laugh in a voice that wasn't Yui's, but that they all know well.

Too well.

<< Did you miss me... >>

Green eyes, shining like diamonds, were staring at them, snake-like irises were filled with excitement and hatred.

<< ...Sons? >>

#submission #ask cordelia sakamaki #cordelia sakamaki #sakamaki cordelia #yui komori #laito sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #sakamaki family #diabolik lovers #dialovers #diabolik lovers edit #diabolik lovers ask blog #mattalara

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quibbs126 · 1 year

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Okay, I originally started making this over 2 weeks ago, but I got sidetracked and never finished it, but I went back yesterday to draw more of it

Basically I just wanted to draw Dark Choco and his past relationships with other characters

First off I drew him with Caramel Arrow Cookie, with him mentoring her in how to use a bow. I’ve kind of already covered how I see their relationship in an older artwork, but basically I see them having a pseudo older brother/younger sister relationship, while Dark Choco also acted as sort of a mentor to her

Next we have Dark Choco and Royal Berry, whom I also see them having a sibling sort of relationship (basically Dark Choco went out and just collected siblings like Pokémon, intentionally or not). While Dark Choco is older, here they’re both at least teenagers, Royal Berry’s just short. Initially they met simply because their parents were friends (I imagine Hollyberry and Dark Cacao probably kept the most in touch out of the Ancients post-Dark Flour War, but that’s just going off what I can gather so far), with Royal Berry befriending the shy Dark Choco Cookie, and later on they remained close friends, despite Royal Berry not being very enthusiastic about fighting or going on dangerous adventures (though that didn’t stop Dark Choco from occasionally roping him into shenanigans). Dark Choco just liked his friend, and he also provided a different perspective, considering everyone he knows in the Dark Cacao Kingdom is a warrior just like him. Dark Choco also acted as a bit of a wingman for Royal Berry when it came to Jungleberry, a young knight in the Hollyberry Kingdom, helping hype Royal Berry up and give him the confidence to ask her out, to which she agreed. Unfortunately Dark Choco just stopped coming over, after an incident in the Dark Cacao Kingdom that Royal Berry never got the details of as his mother never really told him, so he’s not sure what happened to his old friend. As for Dark Choco he wonders how Royal Berry is doing now (he’s unaware that he and Jungleberry got married and they had kids, he was only there for the first and maybe second date)

Then last night I drew Dark Choco and Second Watcher, which I finished earlier today. For the sake of simplicity I’m gonna call Second Watcher here Toffee Cookie, though I’m not sure if that’s my final name for him? (Also side note I just learned today that toffee is essentially caramel (well not really but it’s similar). For some reason I always thought it tasted more like coffee or honey, and thus a flavor I didn’t like. But I do like caramel, so I might actually try it sometime)

So initially I didn’t think much of Second Watcher, other than the fact that I’ve seen his name pop up quite a bit on here, which was a bit odd for a minor NPC. But upon looking again at that loading screen with Dark Cacao Cookie and a freshly baked Dark Choco Cookie, I noticed that the random Cookie holding Dark Choco Cookie was first off a man given the stubble, but also looked uncannily similar to Second Watcher Cookie, to the point where they might be the same person, and the Wiki at least seems to think so too (I’m aware the Wiki isn’t official or anything, but it is an interesting thing to point out). And that intrigued me, because he doesn’t look like a soldier or anything, he looks more like a nursemaid. Now how on earth did he go from a nursemaid to the second in command of the Watchers, the guard of the kingdom? There’s clearly a story there, so I came up with one of my own

So Toffee Cookie here was initially indeed a nursemaid for the prince (which good for him for breaking gender roles), and was basically his primary caretaker in stead of Dark Cacao Cookie (I don’t think Dark Cacao was a neglectful or absent father, it’s just that he’s a king with important duties and he can’t spend all his time looking after his son, and in seeming lack of another parent, he needs someone else to take care of Dark Choco). Dark Choco Cookie saw Toffee Cookie as sort of a secondary parental figure, sort of like Lancer and Rouxls Kaard from Deltarune? Only Toffee sees Dark Choco like a son as well, even if he knows he isn’t

Anyways, so one particular night, when Dark Cacao Cookie was absent from the Citadel as he was dealing with matters in distant reaches of the kingdom, there was an assassination attempt on the prince. They created a ruckus with the Wall, causing the guards to focus their attention on whatever was attacking them outside, diverting and distracting them so that they could get to their target. Toffee Cookie went to Dark Choco’s room to make sure he was unharmed or he wasn’t scared by all this (keep in mind Dark Choco’s not very old here, he’s like 4-5 in Cookie terms), only to find assassins trying to attack him. Thankfully, Toffee had combat training, as is required of any Dark Cacaoian, and on instinct he pulled out a concealed dagger and attacked the assassin closest to Dark Choco, picking him up and fleeing the room. The assassins eventually cornered them and so Toffee stood his ground and fended off their attackers with his dagger until help might arrive. This is how Toffee Cookie lost his eye, as is evident in the picture. Eventually the soldiers realized the deception and after taking care of the threat to their Wall, went on a desperate search to find the prince, hoping they weren’t too late. They eventually found Toffee Cookie, stained with his own jam and the jam of the assassins, surrounded by dead or unconscious assassins, fighting off the ones still remaining. They were able to get rid of the final assassins, and the attack was finally over. They found the prince unscathed, though clearly terrified from everything, and he was clinging on to Toffee Cookie for dear life, refusing to leave his side, even after Toffee Cookie collapsed from exhaustion and his wounds, staying by his side as the healers worked on him and into the next morning. Dark Cacao quickly came back after hearing of the incident and was relieved to find his son unharmed. Toffee Cookie was praised for his tenacity and even offered a spot on the Watchers, but he declined due to his current loyalty being to the safety of the prince, even if he wanted to join them. This made Dark Choco determined to work twice as hard at his training, so that he’d be able to take care of himself and Toffee Cookie would be able to join the Watchers like he wanted, and some years later, when Dark Choco was older, Toffee Cookie joined the Watchers, and eventually became Second Watcher Cookie. Not sure if he was originally First Watcher but stepped down when Caramel Arrow Cookie got promoted or if he only got as far as Second Watcher

Also side note I like the idea of Second Watcher being Caramel Arrow’s father, whether biological or not, so there’s more fuel for Dark Choco and Caramel Arrow being siblings

Originally I was gonna draw the two after the incident, with Dark Choco promising to train even harder so that Toffee can join the Watchers, but that would have required dialogue, and also I wanted to draw this scene more

There were gonna be more, but I either don’t remember who they were gonna be with, or it just didn’t fit with the stuff I was drawing, mainly relationships from post Strawberry Jam Sword

For example, I was gonna draw him meeting Purple Yam Cookie during that tournament, only for me to stumble across my old post talking about Dark Choco’s connection to both Milk Cookie and Purple Yam Cookie, and I realized that based on what Purple Yam Cookie says (the fact that “the Dark Choco Cookie he met didn’t know how to smile”, despite the fact that Young Prince Dark Choco Cookie’s sprites almost all show him smiling, other than anger or defeat/exhaustion sprites, implying that he used to smile a lot, and that he “didn’t wear flimsy clean armor”, despite us knowing Dark Choco wore that armor even during his attack on Dark Cacao Cookie), Purple Yam Cookie must have only met Dark Choco Cookie after the Strawberry Jam Sword.

Edit: So I’ve been told that Purple Yam actually probably met Dark Choco before the Strawberry Jam Sword, for the reasons listed here (I’m trying to link it), so what I say here might be moot. Ah well, I still didn’t draw more than an unfinished sketch

But anyways yeah I ended up cropping the canvas short because I couldn’t think of any more and I just wanted to finish this piece

Writing this I think some other ones I was going to draw were Jungleberry (mutual respect as fighters) and his first encounter with Milk, but oh well

Anyways, hope you enjoy!

#I like the idea that in AUs where Dark Cacao is absent from Dark Choco’s childhood for whatever reason #Second Watcher becomes his new dad #also I found out Dark Cacao and Second Watcher are shipped together sometimes and I do find that interesting #sorry Second Watcher has been the only one on my mind recently as I drew the other two 2 weeks ago #oh yeah also I was planning of drawing one with Dark Cacao but only in the middle #but I didn’t have enough to fit that in so I didn’t do that #I feel like I had more to say but I can’t remember what #cookie run kingdom #dark choco cookie #caramel arrow cookie #royal berry cookie #second watcher cookie #also while I know Ovenbreak itself isn’t canon to Kingdom a lot of elements of backstories seem to carry over #so I feel like this explanation for Purple Yam and Dark Choco still holds up #my art #cw blood #I knew there was something I forgot to tag

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countrymusiclover · 9 months

Text

13 - Once Upon A Baby

Part 14

Family is More than Blood

@secretdreamlandmentality

Did I mention Once in a Vampire Diaries book. Yes I did!! But these are my two favorite fandoms 😁

Writing away at another letter I was sitting on one of the long coaches in the art room. Moving one hand over my grown belly I smiled knowing that it would only be a few more months and we would have baby number five on our hands to deal with. “How’s our littlest one doing this morning?” Klaus strided into the room, hands behind his back.

Leaning my head back against the armrest of the couch I reach out with my freehand for him. “The baby’s fine. Thankfully this one isn’t kicking my ribs like Henrik was. But I just wish that the baby’s due date would come already.”

“I know. You would think the vampire blood in your system would speed up a miracle pregnancy.” He responded by picking me up by my waist with his strength and sitting me down on his lap when he had taken my spot.

Picking up the tv remote I turned it onto Disney plus showing the show Once Upon A Time. Laying my head on his chest where he ran his fingers through my hair. “I was thinking we could name our boy or girl after characters in this show.”

“What the bloody hell is OUAT, Raelyn?” He cursed watching the episode that I was on where Snow and Charming first met.

Shifting in his lap so I was facing him I started explaining with a huge smile on my face. “So they’re all fairytale characters that get sent to the real world by the evil queen. But they can’t remember who they really are.”

“So the evil queen compelled an entire kingdom and decided to create a town they can never leave.” Klaus knitted his brows together seeing Emma and Henry talking about the story book. “If that’s the case then how does she not know that her son is right about everything?”

Throwing my hands down in my lap I huffed and shook my head at him like his question was ridiculous. “Come on, Nik. If they told you that in the first two minutes then it wouldn’t be a good series.”

“My apologies, love.” He held his hands up in surrender. “So what names did you have in mind? Are we naming it Emma if it’s a girl?”

Flipping through my notebook I showed him a list of names I had written down and Emma was at the top of the list with a question mark. “I have been considering it. But Emma might be too normal and Swan doesn’t really work as a first name with Mikaelson.”

“It could work considering her mother is named Snow after all. What else do you have on the list?” He tapped his fingers on my knees.

Pointing to the next two names I could tell he was mostly just staring at me and only half paying attention to what I was saying. “I started looking through the Disney movies and came across Nala or Rapunzel for a girl. Then Robin and Naveen. I personally love the name Rapunzel since most of our kids have unique names. Niklaus, are you even paying attention?”

“I’m sorry Rae. I just get distracted when you’re this passionate about this.” Shifting my gaze up to his blue orbs he had his eyes focused on me but he had a genuine smile across his face and hadn’t said a word.

Glaring lightly at him I snapped back. “Yes but this is important, Nik. We need to find a name that we both like for the baby after all.”

“Raelyn, you could name it anything you want and I will still love it Judas much as you and our four other children. You have given me more than I ever thought I deserved. You are my own fairytale princess.” He rested a hand to the side of my face and I leaned into his palm.

“Will you ever stop being so Charming?” It clicked with me seconds afterwards so I snatched up the notebook crashing my lips onto his in excitement. “Charming, that’s it. Charming Mikaelson!”

He nuzzled his nose into mine pulling me back down so we were watching the tv show holding each other in their arms. “Settle down, Rae. The doctor said you’re supposed to be resting. Let’s see this show you got me invested in.” He hit play on the remote with me intertwining my hand with his.

Shooting my eyes awake I frantically began looking around until my eyes focused on blonde-brown hair and deep blue eyes of a familiar face. “Valerie….what are you doing here?”

“You’re husband refused to stop blowing up my cell until I came rushing to his aid. He told me that he couldn’t hear the baby's heartbeat.” She explained sitting at the edge of the hospital bed I was laying in.

Shooting upright almost I winced feeling someone kick me in the stomach meaning it must have been the baby. But then there was another harsher kick afterwards. “What! Ah ow - something must be wrong - I just urrr- there’s a different kick.”

The hospital room door opened with Klaus dragging in the doctor that we had picked to help us with delivery. “Valerie, tell her what she needs to do to protect our baby.”

“Babies you mean.” She turned her head quickly between me and my husband.

Gripping the side of the bed I gulped pushing my back against the pillows as much as I could. “Babies…are you serious. How didn’t we know that before now?”

“Apparently the second baby had cloaked itself until the night you were kidnapped. So I am to assume that after you had been shot in the gut the babies cloaked themselves. As a way of protection that’s why you couldn’t hear their heartbeats.” Valerie explained focusing back on Klaus.

Dr. Lana sent me a confused look that she had on her face. “Did she just say they were cloaked as magical babies?”

“Nik.” I warned him.

“Don’t worry, Rae. I’ll compel her later.” He sent me a head nod looking back at the doctor. “Now in your medical opinion is she ready to deliver or not. Because my wife nearly died and I’d like to know my children are safe.”

Dr. Lana ran a hand through her hair avoiding my gaze for a moment. I was only eight months pregnant so I wasn’t full term yet. “Uh we would have to do a C-section. I don’t think that it would be wise for her to try and deliver before she is full term. So I will go prep for surgery and a nurse will come help you Mrs. Mikaelson.” She left the room leaving the three of us in the room.

Klaus came over to my side holding my hand in his left kissing my palm. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay with you last night, Rae. And you got hurt because of me.”

“Nik, don’t. It wasn’t your fault. We just should be happy that we have two babies instead of just one.” I chuckled trying to not act concerned that one of the wooden bullets didn’t injure either infant.

He leans down kissing my forehead. “I love you, Rae. And I’m not leaving your side.”

The nurse came into the room giving me an iv in my left hand. Valerie chose to wait in the room knowing Nik wouldn’t leave my side the entire time. The nurses rolled me into the room with two doctors who came in with Lana wearing their scrubs and everything. Squeezing Nik’s hand in mine I didn’t remove my gaze from him when they put me to sleep. I don’t know how long it had been before I blinked my eyes slowly, waking up noticing that Nik was laying at my bedside still holding my hand. “Oh good you’re awake. I was hoping to catch you at the right moment to show you your little ones.”

“Oh my gosh….did everything go okay?” Shifting myself upright, Nik woke up seeing Valerie roll in a cart with two little babies laying down on it.

Valerie gently picked up the first baby, placing it in my arms. “Here’s your little girl.” Feeling happy tears coming down my face the infant opened her eyes and I saw she had bright blue eyes and the hair that she had looked bright blonde. I was shocked that she almost had a full head of hair already.

“And this is the boy.” The heretic picked up the other baby, handing it over to Klaus.

He parted his lips with a huge grin bouncing the baby boy in his arms. “He’s just as precious as Henrik was.” He mumbled seeing that he also looked exactly like his sister.

“So have you figured out any names for these two or at least one since you didn’t know you had twins again.” Valerie put her hands together smiling at the two of us.

Lifting my gaze from the babygirl I looked at my husband sending him a huge grin. “I’ll name the boy. Klaus, you name the girl…he should be Charming Robin Mikaelson.”

Klaus nodded in agreement thinking for a moment before he knew the perfect name that I would love. “Rapunzel Swan Mikaelson.” He sits down at the edge of the bed so I could get a better look at the boy and he could see our little girl.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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