#I'd never had known about it if I wasn't given one the other day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gotham-daydreams · 1 year ago

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i just had a thought

you know what would really fuck up the batfam in the "not tonight" series imagine the reader instead of leaving gets kidnnaped and when the batfam saves them reader breaks down into crying in relief because they genuenly believed the batfam would not bother to save them

Imagine the absolute horror the batman would feel

I know its a little farfetched but i live for the angst

No, no! I love that idea!!! And it isn't all that farfetched seeing as the reader is a well known musician on some level, and even if that wasn't the case- they're still the kid of Bruce Wayne. Which, honestly, is enough motivation for someone to kidnap them, I'd say. Especially if the reasoning is for money, revenge/jealousy, or both honestly.

Besides all that, though- oh my god that would be awful! I love it!

Because imagine things from the reader's perspective (which, there is implied violence inflicted on the reader, mentions a blood, and a gun is pointed towards them. So, if it isn't your cup of tea then that's fine!):

Your 'family' that barely acknowledges you enough as it is, and the only guy who ever seems to notice that you're around is the single butler that basically takes care of everyone and everything in the manor. Now, you're kidnapped because of your relation/connection to the family, and have no hope to do anything besides just pray.

Maybe you have tried to escape before a few times at this point, but the punishment for such attempts have now gotten to the point where if you try again and fail, you'd surely die. Maybe you've also been trying so hard to escape yourself because you're just that certain and sure that the Batfam won't save you. Since, up until this point, anything dealing with or connecting back to you in some way has been ignored or dismissed one way or another. Why would something like a kidnapping be any different? Especially when they also haven't noticed other events where you have gotten hurt before.

Right from the gate, you're already thinking that the Batfam won't save you. Not that they can't, but just like with everything else- something will come up and steal away their attention, and you'll be left by yourself, and to defend yourself as always. That's what always seems to happen, and so why would now be different? In your mind, it wouldn't. So that's why when your attempts to escape fail, and the punishments not only get worse, but begin to pile up and reach a point where you think you're going to die- the situation quickly becomes much scarier.

You don't hope that Batman will suddenly show up, and instead pray that your best friend will notice your missing somehow. You don't think that Nightwing, Red Robin, Spoiler, or Orphan will suddenly swoop in and save the day, but instead try and hope that your producer/boss notices that you haven't replied to his calls or texts and contacts someone. You don't even consider that Red Hood or Robin will come barreling in and quickly deal with your kidnappers before rescuing you — instead all of your thoughts are filled with silent whispers and desperate pleas that someone- anyone you know will notice that you're gone, or that something is wrong, and will contact somebody. With that 'somebody' being the police or anyone of help, but not the Batfam.

Maybe a small thought does slip by, but you can only internally laugh at yourself because you either think that you've already lost enough blood to actually try and believe that lie, or your just growing that desperate to have a little hope. To have something to cling onto in this moment, that you chose the one thing that you're so convinced will never be given to you. A thought that only further cements itself in your mind the more time passes. With hours turning into days, and days to weeks.

Perhaps that's why you try to escape again. Deciding that you had better odds of succeeding despite your injuries, than the Batfam ever coming to save you. Let alone even thinking about it, or even realizing that you were gone in the first place. Taking that risk of getting caught again, and potentially getting killed this time, because no matter how hopeless or unlikely it seems for you to escape and make it out- those chances will always be higher than any single person from the Batfam showing up, and even attempting to save you. Even on accident, or on a whim- that possibility is so unlikely in your mind, that it's basically nothing more than a made up scenario or daydream to you. It's not an 'if' or 'when', but a flat out 'won't'.

Maybe that's why when you fail you get so scared, but can't help but feel like this was inevitable somehow. Of course, you don't want to die- but you had tried your best. You fought until the very end, and it almost feels a little too fitting that things ended up this way. With your efforts ending in vain, and you having nothing to show for it. With your attempts futile, and almost seeming idiotic from an outsider's point of view, and maybe it was.

You never stood a chance. You were doomed for failure. Not even all the training and experience you had could save you- and only now could you see how truly worthless all your efforts had been. With a gun pointed to your head, and your own blood providing the only warmth you've felt in days.

There's an odd sense of comfort and familiarity in the chill that shoots down your spine, and the cold gaze that one of your kidnappers give you. They're carelessness and disregard for your health reminding you of something, with their rough attacks and harsh punches bringing back times where you really did need the Batfam, only for no one to show up. Your call dying down as fast as it had risen that day, and one you never even bothered to make again.

So maybe that was why you were so surprised when help arrived, and even more so when you saw who exactly it was.

Before you could even fully register anything, you began to cry. A wide smile full of disbelief grows on your face, and more tears begin to fall as the smallest of laughs escape you. 'Unbelievable' is the first word that comes to mind when describing what you felt, and thought when you saw Batman drop down from the ceiling and deal with the guy who was about to kill you, and heard some commotion just down the hall.

At first, your convinced it's all some silly dream, and that maybe during your final moments- your mind decided to give you something nice to send you off. Almost like a warm parting gift to distract you from the hopelessness, and reality of the situation. Though it's only when pain shoots through your entire body when you move a certain way, that the thought of all of this being some made up hallucination or delusion vanishes, and you can't help but cry harder.

You don't know if it's a good or bad thing that after all this time- the one time they actually notice that you're gone, is when you not only get kidnapped, but can't escape by yourself. That the one time they acknowledge you, you're almost dead, bleeding out, and the most messy and vulnerable you've ever been.

Maybe life really did have some grudge against you to go to such lengths to fuck you over, but right now you're too relieved to be saved to care at the moment.

Yet, to say the Batfam feels awful on a totally new level, is an understatement. They understand feeling relieved, but to this extent? It's like you never expected them to come and save you at all... and that little thought seems to be true when one of them tries to help you out, and you're still laughing weakly as you continue to cry. Asking through a broken, wavering voice if all of this is real, and isn't some fucked up hallucination your having to make passing on easier. That they really showed up, and as a last ditch effort to not make your death anymore painful then it has to be- this isn't just some... dream, to make you feel like you were actually cared for in your final moments.

It breaks their hearts, a lot.

Especially when you repeat questions, as if trying to really make sure that they're there, that they're real, and aren't just some figment of your imagination. That they actually came to save you, and weren't off saving Gotham or the world itself instead. Constantly trying to be sure, as if the moment you weren't- then you'd be convinced that you were slowly dying all alone, with no hope of help coming — not even thinking that the Batfam would come — and just have to sit with that fact as you take your final breaths.

The pain you feel is almost equal to their's, and what really worries and scares most of them is how sure and certain you are that they wouldn't show up. That either the thought would never cross their minds, or that something else would come up and they'd leave you for dead, or that they just wouldn't notice that you were kidnapped at all.

Which, said fright and worry is only amplified when you have to keep asking "Are you really here? Are you sure?" And the like, and they have to keep finding ways to prove to you that yes, they are here. They're helping you, and they're not leaving- they actually managed to save you, and that you're going be okay now. That they aren't going away, and are very, very real.

Each little, broken laugh chips away at the pieces of their hearts, and your own disbelief that they can't seem to get rid of no matter what they do or say, is just a punch to the gut. You didn't just think that they wouldn't show up, but were fully convinced that they wouldn't even bother with it. That own realization just... hurts more than anything.

Had they really been that awful to you? Had they really caused you so much pain and hurt that you'd not only think of such a thing, but fully believe it? They didn't remember doing anything in particular that would cause you to think that way... but maybe that wasn't the problem. It wasn't what they did to you, but rather what they didn't do, and that's when the pieces finally begin to click.

Of course some don't want to believe it, similar to how some of them in "Not Here" express a brief moment of denial and disbelief themself, but they don't get to experience such a luxury anymore. Not with you here- bleeding, hurt, and crying from both relief and disbelief, because you couldn't believe that they actually showed up.

Even when they do quickly take you to a hospital and get you treated, that image of you is still ingrained into their minds. They can't forget it- how you looked at them and spoke, and just how you treated the whole situation because of how convinced you were.

From here they'll try to rebuild what they can, and all definitely be 100% more protective then they've ever been. The moment you're able to come home (which, you ARE coming home. No if's or but's. You don't get a chance this time.), they're doing everything in their power to not only 'fix' everything, but make sure that you are safe at all possible moments of the day.

It's safe to say that the whole experience traumatized the whole family to a certain degree. Not only with you being kidnapped- but you trying to escape multiple times and almost dying, because you were so convinced that no one would show up to help. (Which, while it was also because you can genuinely handle yourself and did believe you could escape on your own, the Batfam doesn't entirely believe that (and you almost dying doesn't help with that) so they chalk it up to you being desperate, because you 'knew' that no one was coming to save you. Which also may or may not make certain people worse in the process.) So they're already leaning pretty heavy on the yandere tendencies. Which most likely develop over the time you're in the hospital, and into your first week or so staying in the Manor.

Which does lead us to your little addition:

Which, you are very correct!!!

Our boy Jason, put in very simple terms, doesn't take the situation well. At all.

Seeing you bloodied, bruised, abused, malnourished, and on the brink of death no less- definitely doesn't help with his reaction at all.

Don't get me wrong! All of them react pretty negatively to the situation, and many of them have very strong reactions- Jason in particular just has the worst and strongest one. :]

The moment he sees you, he's immediately reminded of his death. The urge to comfort you is strong, but he just doesn't know what to do- and so he ends up not doing anything until you're in the hospital. Which, leading up to that point, he's checking your pulse as often as he can.

He knows what it's like to be hopeless, and feel that helpless- but to know that you experienced that? To know that you almost died like he did? It ruins him. It fucks him up more than anything else.

From the way you looked at the Batfam- the way you looked at him, and just how utterly relieved you were, despite drowning in your own disbelief- it haunts him. The state they found you in messed him up enough, but all of your questions, and just how you were even trying to reassure yourself that them showing up and saving you was real, fucked him up big time.

Before he knows it, he's hunting down the people who kidnapped you, and wiping out whatever is left of their bloodlines. Not sparing a single person, as they didn't spare you- with their generations leading to your kidnappers being born.

He's making their final moments just as painful as yours would've been. Their agony almost matching his, as he couldn't forget the night they saved you. He refused to. That moment forever engraved into his mind, reminding him of what also was if they were a second too late, and how it made him realize just how much he's fucked up along with everyone else.

While Jason can't exactly just waltz into the Hospital to visit you, since he is still considered dead and everything, he sneaks into your room instead. Trying to give what comfort he can in his own silent, but close way. Holding your hand with a gentleness even foreign to himself, and saying how he's sorry and that he'll make it up to you. Promising every night that he'll make those that made you suffer pay with their lives, and then some. Saying how he won't leave your side ever again, only to be gone by the morning.

He brings what he can as well. Even if it isn't as showy or extravagant as any of the things that Bruce, Damian, Dick and so on are getting you, or as pretty and lively as the flowers that are placed by your bedside. It's just his own little way of trying to make it up to you.

The small, little gifts he gives you are indeed little, and he doesn't give much since he doesn't think that your forgiveness or love can be bought. But he still tries to give something. So he'll give things that can be as little as hair ties or bracelets, to earrings (that totally aren't matching) and a little music box that reminded him of the melodies you've made thus far. It's all just another way of saying that he cares about you, and not only wants to build your relationship but be connected to you somehow.

The earrings, even if you don't wear them but just have them, make him feel closer to you then he can. He hopes that in some little way, that whenever you wind and let that music box play its tune, that you are reminded of him or think of him in some way. That when you wear or even look at the few ties and bracelets he's given you, he comes to mind in some small way, and manages to bring the smallest of smiles on your face.

Jason doesn't yearn to be remembered or seen fondly, but he would like to and deeply appreciate it. Since when he looks at his earnings, he's reminded of you, and the pair he managed to give you. Leaving him unable to fight back the smile that grows on his face.

For the most part, he just generally tries to be more present, hardly leaving you alone unless he has to, and spending every moment he can by your side. Moments that begin to last longer once he finishes his buisness with your kidnappers, and their families. He doesn't push too hard or is super in your face and constantly invading your personal space. He just exists in your presence, and as long as you're around he's got no complaints.

Though he does get extremely protective and possessive. Especially if your sleeping or something, and someone walks in. God have mercy if they need to wake you up, and dare to try without saying anything to Jason first.

Which- all of this boils down to you getting scary dog privileges every night, which turns into an almost 24/7 type of deal when you get discharged from the hospital.

---

Sorry if this is a little all over the place. I wrote it all in one go for the most part and haven't really looked it over, so there's probably some mistakes I didn't catch and missed 😅

Still, I hope that's alright, and as you can see- i really enjoy this idea :]

#talking daydreams #yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #gn reader #platonic yandere #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere jason todd

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elronds-meleth-nin · 3 months ago

Text

Lemon Cakes

I just...I had an idea and I was emotional about S2E7 (beware spoilers!!) so I wrote a thing. We're not taking S2E8 into account, and we're assuming Brimby managed to escape from Eregion. Anyway, enjoy!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Celebrimbor (RoP) x Half-Elven Healer!Reader

[A/N: This contains mild references/innuendo so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Fluff, angst, yearning, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, minor descriptions of the same, spoilers for RoP S2E7, crying, kissing, both think their feelings are unrequited but they're very requited, nudity, mild references to male anatomy.

~*~

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts and fears that I didn't bother noting where I was going. All of Eregion was safe, so it didn't truly matter which pathway I took. However, it still would have been wise to do so.

Wisdom wasn't exactly the foremost concern in my mind at that moment. Court whispers, idle gossip, occupational politics...those had unfortunately taken center stage as I hurried through - was I in Eregion's gardens? Grudgingly, I supposed that the hedges were a dead giveaway that I'd somehow wandered into them without realizing. I'd been drawn to them countless times over the decades that I'd lived in the city. Ending up there should not have been a surprise.

My mind dwelled - foolishly, perhaps - upon my worries. How was I supposed to ignore what they were saying? It wasn't as if the other healers were trying particularly hard to hide the fact that they despised me for my heritage. After all, in their eyes a Peredhel - one of Half-elven descent - could never do as well as someone who possessed only Elven blood. I'd trained under several of the best healers known to Elvendom, but still that was not enough for the wagging tongues attached to judgmental minds.

All I wanted was to help heal the injured, but because of my status, I was relegated to organizing supplies and sweeping the floors of the infirmary. Had I been given the chance to prove my worth and demonstrate my training, I might have been able to advance further. As it stood, however, I only had a few of the common families of Eregion who trusted me enough to tend to their wounds and ailments.

Despite my situation, I made an effort never to complain. I took what opportunities were offered and made do. After all, if I had complained, not only would I have been seen as ungrateful, but I would've been proven to be, in the eyes of those who disliked me, even weaker than I was already perceived to be. I was allowed to remain in Elven territory. Should that not be enough for one lowly Peredhel?

That didn't stop me from feeling frustrated, though. Overhearing the last of the other healers' insidious comments after a long day was what broke my resolve. As I wandered through the maze of shrubbery, hot tears rolling down my cheeks, I hated that I'd let them bother me this much. Was I truly so weak-minded that I could not handle a few insults? Surely, I must be.

"Are you alright?" A warm but tentative voice called, and I tried to quickly wipe away my tears. Whoever had been kind enough to check on me didn't need to be bothered by a weepy Elleth.

"Yes, of course," I called as I posted on a faux smile and turned to find– "Lord Celebrimbor! Forgive me, hir-nin."

I began to drop into a low, deferential curtsy, but a gentle hand grasped my shoulder, stopping me.

"Please, my lady, there is nothing you have done which requires an apology." Having only seen him from a distance, I'd never spoken to Lord Celebrimbor before. I hadn't expected his voice to be so kind. I looked up, and he smiled at me.

I had never been looked at with such radiant warmth in all my life. Words utterly failed me. I should have said something - anything - but I could not seem to speak.

The light of the setting sun created a golden aura around Lord Celebrimbor's head, making him look like a heavenly being sent by the Valar. For a moment, I forgot all about my frustration and grief.

Those closest to him must scramble for even a few moments with him. How could they not? The greatest of the Elven smiths was also the most attractive Elf I'd ever met.

"There we are," he murmured as my eyes met his. "Would you perhaps like to join me?"

For the first time, I noticed he was holding a plate of lemon cakes. He'd likely come out to the gardens to relax with a sweet treat, only to find a distraught mess instead.

"O-Oh, thank you, my lord, but, truly, I do not wish to intrude," I stammered, but he let out a gentle laugh that made my heart twist in my chest.

"I will not force you, of course, but you should know that I would welcome your company," he said, glancing between myself and the lemon cakes. "Over the years, I have found that something sweet can help lift the spirit. Besides, I don't think I should eat all of these myself. My tailor would be quite cross if he had to replace my entire wardrobe."

I doubted a figure like his could ever be diminished by the insignificance of a few lemon cakes, but the need for friendly companionship was so great within me that I allowed myself to take his not-so-believable excuse at face value.

"Only if you're certain, my lord." His smile widened, and he eagerly led me to a bench nestled between a pair of pink flowering dogwood trees. Once we were seated, I finally took a moment to observe my companion. Wearing deep blue velvet robes, delicately embroidered with beaded leaves and vines, Lord Celebrimbor of Eregion sat beside me with all the gravitas and dignity of a king. His gaze was as soft as his touch had been upon my shoulder.

But he was a lord, and one of the most skilled Elven smiths in history. I was only a Peredhel. No matter how handsome I found him, common people like me did not end up with nobility.

Distracting me from my sobering thoughts, Lord Celebrimbor offered me one of the little iced cakes. I couldn't help but smile at the slices of candied lemon decorating the top.

"I must admit," he murmured as I gratefully took one, "that sweets are somewhat of a weakness of mine. The bakers whose establishments I frequent across the city have become rather aware of the fact that this variety in particular are my favorite. I fear they quite effectively know how to convince me to part with my coin."

That fit him quite well, in my opinion. The brightness of the citrus, the sweetness that tempered the flavor...nothing could have suited his personality more fully. Those cakes were light and sunny, as was he.

After we'd eaten in peace for a time, conversing quietly between ourselves about everything and nothing, Lord Celebrimbor looked at me curiously.

"If you don't wish to discuss it, I promise you are under no obligation to do so, but is there someone to whom I should speak in your defense?" I looked at him in askance, and he gave a small smile. "'Tis heinous behavior to bring such a lovely lady to tears. If there is someone who requires a stern speaking to, please consider my services in that department most humbly offered."

His gaze was so earnest and concerned that I had to avert my own lest I tear up again. None had ever offered to come to my defense before, opting instead to suggest that I grin and bear it, or that I develop a thicker skin as comments like that were to be expected for one of such low, unworthy birth.

"You are very kind, my lord, but, truly, you needn't trouble yourself." I barely dared to look back over at him after a moment's pause. "After all these years, I should have developed a thicker skin."

Celebrimbor wiped his fingers on his handkerchief and leaned a little closer to me, clearly engrossed.

"About what, my lady?"

I hesitated. It was perhaps vain, but I did not relish seeing the kindness in his eyes melt away when he realized with what sort of person he'd been conversing. But there was nothing for it. One did not simply ignore the Lord of Eregion when he asked you a question, especially not when he'd been kind enough to offer you food, comfort, and company. As much as I wanted to run, I remained seated.

"I am Half-elven, my lord," I nearly whispered, dropping my eyes to my lap where I was wringing my hands nervously. "My heritage is...somewhat of a common topic of discussion, especially with regards to my abilities."

"Abilities?" He asked gently, and I nodded my head.

"I am a healer, my lord. I was trained by some of the most skilled Elves I have had the fortune to know," I elaborated. "Truly, I do not mind helping where I can, and if it were a simple matter of my skills not being necessary, I would not be quite so frustrated, but..."

I trailed off, unsure of how to express the rest of my thoughts without sounding pathetic and childish.

"...But you've been overlooked because of who your parents were," he finished sounding somber. "My lady, I am truly sorry that you have had to endure such unjust treatment. None should behave so dishonorably, especially not here in Eregion. After all, in Lindon, our High King's herald is Half-elven. Ability has nothing to do with blood, as my people should be aware. I daresay you've likely heard some unworthy remarks, as well, for which I can only apologize. My people should know better."

I expected pity or disdain when I finally dared to look up at him again, but instead, I found only a reassuring smile and warm eyes skimming my face.

"Thank you, hir-nin, for your kindness. There was no need for you even to speak with me, much less be in my company, but I am so very grateful that you did."

Celebrimbor's smile widened, and he caught one of my hands between both of his. I couldn't help but marvel at how large they were, and how strong the calloused pads of his fingers felt. He must work quite diligently at his craft.

"It has been my honor, I assure you."

He paused, looking unsure as if considering whether he should say what was on his mind.

"Do you know, my lady, I have seen you walking in the gardens before. I should have wished you a good day or stopped to say at least 'good morning,' but I...well, I did not wish to intrude upon your peace," he said, and I looked at him in awe. "You always seem so relaxed when you are amongst nature, strolling through the starlight. Oft in the evenings, I take a break upon the balcony of my tower, and I have the loveliest view of the moonlight cascading down upon you."

He'd seen me before? I hadn't been aware that he knew of my existence, much less remarked upon the walks I took to clear my head.

"I wish I had mustered my courage earlier, however, since I cannot change my prior cowardice, I would like to focus instead upon the future. Might I have the honor of knowing you better?"

How could I have possibly refused? Why would I? That evening had been the start of a friendship that I'd never expected to have. Celebrimbor was always courteous and warm with me, allowing me to see his forge and discussing his work with me.

He never admitted to any involvement, but I suspected that he was the reason why barely a week after our initial conversation I was allowed - finally - to put away my broom in the healers' halls and begin treating patients. Even the cruel whispers and rumors died down to only the most occasional instance.

The Lord of Eregion shared my joy when my skills were begrudgingly praised, delighting especially when one of Lindon's visiting generals bore witness to my work. He was so pleased with how I'd patched up a small squad of his soldiers that I'd received a letter of thanks from the High King himself by royal messenger not long after the general had reported home safely.

Celebrimbor had been so excited for me that he'd sent his smiths and apprentices home early and opened a bottle of wine in celebration. That night, it had been particularly difficult to tamp down my growing admiration for the gorgeous Ellon who'd been so kind to me. Undoubtedly, he'd never feel more for me than friendship, but my heart did not seem to grasp that particular fact. When he finally walked me to my door and bid me sweet dreams, I knew for certain that I was doomed to love one who could never return my feelings. I was content, however, to simply be around him.

As the years passed, I slowly climbed the ranks of Eregion's healers, eventually earning the grudging respect of my peers, and the one person who had believed in me from the start seemed no less proud of me than he had from the beginning. It was not uncommon, of a free evening, to find me curled up in the uppermost room of Eregion's tower, discussing my lord's latest projects or ideas, or sharing herbal tea and something sweet from one of Eregion's bakers.

Eventually, after about a century's residence in Celebrimbor's city, and after having spent about three quarters of that as his friend, he summoned me to his tower during one of my shifts in the healers' halls. That, in itself, was not uncommon. He and his smiths were rather prone to accidents, especially given the nature of their work. Celebrimbor always asked for me personally, and as this time was no exception, I gathered a bag of medical supplies and hurried to see what might have happened.

The Lord of Eregion had been quite consumed by his latest project, and, though it was a rare occurrence, he had not discussed it once with me. I'd thought it strange that he was being so secretive, but after all, he was the Lord of Eregion first and foremost. He owed me no explanations. I thought nothing of it.

When I arrived, however, instead of seeing the forges blazing and the smiths all chattering about their work, I found only Lord Celebrimbor seated beside one of the windows, holding a letter in his hand. His forges were stone cold, and a sad, worried sort of expression played across his face.

"My lord?" I called quietly, hovering in the doorway. I felt as though I was intruding upon something private to which I ought not be a witness, but he had summoned me. I could not keep him waiting. At my quiet question, he looked up and plastered what I easily recognized as a forced smile across his lips. "You asked for me?"

"I did, mellon-nin," he said, gesturing for me to come closer. "Come, sit with me."

I did as he asked, setting my bag at my feet and looking at him curiously as I perched beside him on the divan.

"Are you hurt?" I could see no evidence of an injury, but he'd hidden them quite well before.

"Oh, no. No, forgive me. I hope I did not worry you," he said patting my arm gently. "Actually, this morning I received a rather important letter from High King Gil-Galad."

Silently, he held the folded parchment out to me, and I accepted it carefully. The King's seal was unmistakable upon the outer fold. My eyes skimmed the neat, swirling hand in which he'd penned his missive, and I had to reread it twice before the meaning fully sank in.

Wide-eyed I looked over at Celebrimbor whose smile now reached his eyes. He still looked rather sad, though.

"The High King wishes me to come to Lindon?" I asked feeling rather stunned. "But...why me?"

"From what I understand, he has heard many positive things about you and your skills as a healer from his soldiers and several of his friends," Celebrimbor said as I handed the letter back to him. "He wishes you to train a group of healers so that Lindon will be in good hands as Eregion is."

I was speechless. Only just managing to keep my jaw from dropping, I blinked uncomprehendingly a few times.

"You come highly recommended to him. In fact, he asked for my opinion, and I told him the truth: that you are one of the most skilled healers of your age that I have ever encountered. Your bedside manner puts your patients at ease, and you are able to tend their wounds calmly and skillfully," Celebrimbor continued, setting the letter aside and grasping my hands. "There is no one better for the position, I assure you. You will excel in Lindon as you have here."

Finally forcing my voice to work again, I found myself stammering.

"I...Did the King specify how long I would need to remain there?"

"He said it might take two years, perhaps three," he answered, and as if he could read my thoughts, Celebrimbor tilted my chin up and looked into my eyes. "Eregion will still be here when you return. In any case, it was not a request. It was an order. You shall need to leave in the morning."

"That soon?" I asked feeling nerves start to bubble up within me. I was excited for the opportunity, of course, and honored beyond words that Gil-Galad had asked for me personally, but...the thought of leaving Celebrimbor and my home at such short notice frightened me.

My lord's arms wrapped around me, drawing me into a tight embrace which I returned wholeheartedly. Burying my face against his shoulder, I savored the feeling of being so close to him. I would not get the opportunity again for a long while.

"Stay here with me tonight," he murmured against my scalp, and I nodded my head silently in agreement. The pair of us barely let go of each other, and when we awoke cuddled together on the divan with the morning light streaming across our sleepy faces and rumpled clothes, there were no sufficient words to express all that we felt at this forced parting.

The final glimpse of Eregion's gates as I passed through them atop my horse, flanked on either side by guards, felt terribly final.

Lord Celebrimbor and I had corresponded via messengers since my arrival at Lindon, but shortly after his new forge had been built, his letters had all but ceased. I tried not to let my heartbreak show, but the High King, who had quickly caught on that my feelings for Celebrimbor were slightly more than friendly, noticed immediately.

After one of my meetings with him discussing the progress of his healers-in-training, he called me to a halt as I prepared to take my leave. His herald - my new and very dear friend, Elrond - was still there, but courteously acting as though he could hear neither of our voices as he packed away a stack of parchment.

"My lady, I have no doubt that he is simply caught up in his work," Gil-Galad said as he offered me a softer look than I was accustomed to seeing upon his regal features. "Given how Lord Celebrimbor has spoken of you in the past, he would not give you up so frivolously."

If only I believed he was right. Oh, I did not believe Celebrimbor to be cruel enough to do so, by any stretch of the imagination. I did not, however, believe myself to be important enough to deserve his attention, even after so many years of friendship.

Instead of voicing such concerns, however, I merely thanked the King for his reassurance, bowed my head respectfully, and went back to my duties.

A few silent months later, however, Elrond sought me out in the healers' halls and led me to an urgent meeting with the King. Beside a small table stood High King Gil-Galad and one of his commanders.

"Thank you for coming, my lady," the King said ushering me to a seat. He dismissed his commander, and I looked at him in askance. "I would not normally trouble you, but I'm afraid this concerns you."

I glanced up at Elrond and found a concerned, slightly guilty expression on his face.

"My lady, we believe that Sauron is in Eregion," the King said, and I felt as though I'd been slapped. "His goal is to create rings of power similar to the trio we already have. Naturally, to do this he would need a skilled smith..."

He trailed off, allowing me to come to the conclusion myself, and when I did, my stomach churned.

"Celebrimbor," I breathed, and he nodded his head.

"We are gathering our armies now, preparing to defend the city against another threat, but as we do so, we will also attempt to remove Lord Celebrimbor from Sauron's influence." Much of what the King said afterward was a blur. When he came to my particular duties as a healer, I paid close attention, noting all the preparations which would need to be made rather rapidly.

Before Elrond could leave, I dragged him into a hug and made him promise to be safe. Not long after, the rest of Lindon's army departed, and I was filling my time with work to distract myself from my fears.

Waiting for the High King and his soldiers to return was tantamount to torture. I had friends who were risking their lives in this conflict, of course, but even more than that, the fate of Eregion terrified me. The city had been my home for nearly a century, and I was naturally concerned for its people, but I was even moreso for Celebrimbor.

If I dwelled for too long upon that distinction, my own selfishness closed around my throat like a vice, forcing conflicted tears to well up in my eyes. When I thought of his kindness and all that he'd done for me, however, I found it easy to blink them back. I could not find it within myself to feel guilty for my concern over one so gentle and warm.

So, I waited with the other healers, giving orders where I could for casualty preparations, ensuring all of the supplies were well-ordered and accessible to all of us. Our patients would have traversed a long road home, victory or no, and we did not wish to prolong their discomfort any more than was necessary.

Horns blared at the gates a few days later, and we rushed out to receive the soldiers, injured and exhausted as they doubtless were. Fear scraped away inside me when I contemplated how many might have been lost when I saw how somber the mood was.

Tamping down my personal feelings, I moved with the swarm of healers, pulling aside all who were injured and beginning to treat the most serious problems first. We'd been working for only a few hours when a hand landed on my shoulder.

Elrond, dirty, defeated, and utterly bereaved stood at my side.

"Mellon-nin," he breathed, and I wrapped my arms around him. He embraced me fiercely, silent sobs wracking him as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. "Eregion..."

My heart constricted at his tone.

"The city fell," he mourned, and I felt a rising sort of panic.

"Did any escape? The people? The soldiers?" I asked, hesitating before I added, "Lord Celebrimbor?"

His nod against my shoulder brought tears to my own eyes. When he pulled back, he took a deep breath to steady himself.

"The High King wishes to see you. Immediately. You will want to bring supplies with you," Elrond murmured, but I caught sight of blood-soaked fabric peeking out from beneath his armor. I waved one of my best healers over.

"Thank you, mellon-nin. I am glad beyond words to see you returned. I'll go to the King now, but you are not to leave until your injuries have been seen to. No arguments, darling herald."

He gave me a damp smile and acquiesced to my demand after stealing another quick hug.

Tucking into a bag everything that I would need to treat potential injuries inflicted upon the High King, I rushed down the corridors on the heels of the soldier sent to guide me. He would not have sent for me unless it was serious. Instead of finding the King inside, however, he was just outside the door speaking with one of his guards. Gil-Galad dismissed both guards almost as soon as I arrived.

"Thank you for coming with such haste," he said, and as I took him in, he looked dirty, bruised, but otherwise unharmed.

"I was told you required a healer, Your Grace."

"Not I, though I did send for you. Your patient is within. You needn't knock," he said gesturing to the door to his guest's rooms. I made to go inside, but he caught my elbow, drawing me to a gentle stop. "My lady, I should warn you...'tis Lord Celebrimbor."

My heart nearly beat out of my chest with worry.

"How bad is it?" I rasped, and the High King's expression softened.

"Breathe. It is not life-threatening." I nearly fainted with relief, sagging heavily against the wall and allowing my eyelids to flutter shut. Gil-Galad placed a comforting hand upon my shoulder. "He was being held and manipulated by Sauron. He was chained to his forge with unbreakable restraints. The only way he could escape was to...remove one of his thumbs."

My eyes snapped up to meet his in utter horror at what Celebrimbor had been forced to do simply to preserve his own life. Finally, I forced myself to draw a steadying breath.

"Is there any swelling? Inflammation?" I managed to ask, and the King shook his head.

"No, there have been no complications thus far," he said, but he hesitated a moment. "I called for you, not because of the severity of his injury, but because he needs you. He rested only fitfully in his saddle. He called out for you...wept in his sleep."

Me? He'd called out for me?

"You are the greatest comfort he could have, my lady. He may not yet know that he has your love, but he needs it nonetheless."

I straightened as heat spread across my face. Gil-Galad had known of my feelings for Eregion's lord for some time, but we'd never discussed it so openly before. Oh, certainly he'd eluded to the subject before, giving subtle hints and encouragement when our correspondence effectively ended, but this...

"Thank you, Your Grace," I said in the steadiest voice I could manage. I hoped he understood that I didn't just mean for the reassurance. When he bowed his head and took his leave, I faced the door, steeling my nerves as I pulled it open–

And my breath froze in my chest. There, kneeling upon the ground in the middle of the floor, staring out into the sunlit garden, was Lord Celebrimbor. He seemed not to notice my entry. Closing the door behind me, I walked slowly over to him. Seeming both penitent and relieved, Eregion's lord remained stationary as the golden light of day poured across his skin. Dirt, grime, and dried blood covered him, but he was still the loveliest sight I'd ever laid eyes upon.

"My lord?" I murmured quietly, setting aside my bag as I knelt beside him, and with a slow blink, he roused himself from whatever thoughts had so captivated him. Slowly, he turned to face me, and amidst the dirt on his face, there were tear tracks.

His lips parted in surprise when he saw me, and when I offered him a gentle smile, he lifted his uninjured hand, caressing my face as if he could not believe that I was truly there.

I leaned more solidly into his touch, closing my eyes against the rising emotions within me, and a broken sob of my name tore from his lips.

"Y-You're here. You're real," he croaked as he began to weep. I drew him into my arms without a moment's hesitation. Clutching at me as if I might disappear, Celebrimbor fell to pieces in my arms. I could do no more than whisper reassurances and press gentle kisses atop his head.

An Ellon as sweet as he did not deserve to feel as terrible as he clearly did. The urge to smite Sauron - to rend him in half with my bare hands - grew with every tremble of my lord's frame beneath my hands.

In fragments, he spilled the story to me, explaining all that had happened between himself and Sauron - including how he found fragments of one of his letters to me in the corner of his forge where the manipulative bastard had thrown it. Hushing Celebrimbor's subsequent apologies, I ran my fingers gently through his hair, trying to soothe him.

Eventually, his tears dried up, his breathing became steadier, and he lifted his head from my shoulder. Without thought, he cupped my face with both hands. A grimace twisted his features and he began to whisper shame-filled apologies as he pulled his injured hand away.

I caught his wrist carefully, and pressed my own fingertips gently against his lips to silence him. Celebrimbor looked stunned even as his cheeks reddened.

"Have you forgotten that I am a healer, my lord? You needn't apologize. I have seen and treated much worse." His shoulders dropped a small measure at my reassurance, and I turned my attention to his poor hand. At least the cut had been clean. It was already beginning to heal quite nicely, but it would still need a little help. "Truthfully, this is doing quite well. Might I make a suggestion?"

"Anything," he breathed, and the sincerity in his eyes tore at my heart.

"It would be wise for me to give this a preliminary wash, then cover it in a protective layer so that we can get the rest of you clean. Afterward, I should be able to patch you up much easier, but only if that is agreeable to you," I said, but he was already nodding his head.

"Yes. Yes, entirely agreeable," he said beginning to smile tentatively again. "I shall humbly submit to any treatment you think is necessary."

My breath hitched in my throat. How could he still be so trusting even after everything that had happened? I vowed to myself that I would never abuse his trust. I loved him too much to even consider such treachery.

"Let me fetch a basin and send for a bath to be drawn, and I shall be right back," I promised, and he drew a shaky breath as I stood.

I was only apart from him for a few moments, but when I returned with the basin of water and the supplies, he looked up at me like he'd never been happier to see me. The joy radiating from him even beneath the dirt and dried blood covering his skin relaxed a ball of tension that had resided in me since I heard about the threat to him and his city.

He was here. He was alright. And Sauron had not broken that which was most important: his spirit.

Setting everything beside us, I laid a towel across my lap and gently pulled his sleeve back past his elbow. Shuffling a little closer so that neither of us would strain ourselves in the reach, I began to clean his wound, as well as his arm so that he needn't get it wet during his bath.

As I worked, we fell into a companionable silence that was only broken when a few strands of hair fell into my face having escaped my hair ribbon. With a touch lighter than a smith should ever have, Celebrimbor moved them behind my ear, his large, warm fingertip brushing over the point.

He'd never done that before.

I looked up to thank him, and I was taken aback by how close we were to each other. My nose was barely an inch from his. I swallowed heavily, forcing my heart, racing though it was, to remain silent.

"Thank you, my lord," I whispered. His breath caressed my skin, and I forced myself to look back down and finish my task. He did not need to be bothered with a childish infatuation. Why, oh why was professional distance so difficult to maintain around him?

Wrapping a few protective layers over the freshly cleaned wound, I tied it off carefully. It was a bit looser than I would normally make a dressing, but it was only meant to last long enough for a bath.

A knock sounded at the door as I finished up, and that, thankfully, was the announcement that it was ready - apparently the speed was thanks to High King Gil-Galad's foresight. He'd ordered the water drawn and heated when he sent for me, to be delivered when I asked.

Once we were both on our feet, however, Lord Celebrimbor seemed to freeze, nerves playing across his features.

"Is something amiss? Are you in pain?" I asked, but he'd shown no sign of it thus far. He drew a deep breath, his cheeks turning a bright red.

"You needn't do this if you...if this causes you discomfort, I'm certain I could manage." He sounded so embarrassed. At my confused expression, however, he elaborated. "I do not wish to be improper. To force you to see...well, more of me than is decent."

The precious man. Was that all he was worried about?

"There is no need for shame," I murmured, "in my occupation, nudity is as common as leaves on trees. I shall touch you no more than is necessary, and the moment you wish for privacy, you need only tell me, and you shall have it."

Celebrimbor seemed relieved, which wasn't surprising since Sauron had been holding him captive. I doubted he'd been left alone for even a moment.

"I...do not wish to inconvenience you, but I...don't think I..." he stammered as he tried to compose his thoughts. "Washing might be difficult on my own. I should be able to do some myself, but the rest..."

Holding his good hand with my own, I gave him a gentle smile.

"It is no inconvenience, and you should not be made to feel guilty for daring to ask for help." After a brief hesitation he nodded his head.

"In that case, thank you, híril vuin. I would be glad of your assistance," he said allowing me to lead him to the bathroom.

Carefully, I untied the laces of his tunic, easing the fabric from his injured side and apologizing every time I even expected him to twitch in discomfort. His bare chest ought not to have surprised me; he was used to laboring in his forge. His defined musculature was well-earned. Once he was down to just his leggings, he blushed brightly, and he asked if I might step out while he got into the bath. He would still need help washing, so I would need to return, but I could easily grant him that.

"Thank you, my lady. I realize that it is silly for me to ask, but..." he shrugged and trailed off bashfully.

"It is not silly, especially if such a simple thing would help you feel comfortable. Oh, by the way, have you eaten today?"

"I believe so, but...several hours ago." Nodding quietly to myself, I formed a plan.

"Then, I shall have some food sent up. I'll just be in the other room, so when you're ready to wash, call for me," I ordered, and he nodded his head. "Do not be afraid to ask for help should you need it before then."

I expected him to protest, but he agreed easily, allowing me to pat his bare shoulder before I stepped out.

Locating the servant that Gil-Galad had assigned to us, I asked for a dinner tray, along with a plate of lemon cakes and a pot of herbal tea - a sweet combination that I knew Lord Celebrimbor favored.

Though the cakes would not heal his thumb, they were exactly what he needed to lift his spirits. Something familiar that might bring him some comfort.

Ducking back into the bathroom when he called for me, I saw that my patient now lay with his eyes closed and his head resting against the rim of the tub behind him. Injured hand aside, he looked like one of the Valar lounging after a battle - a beautiful, larger-than-life figure in resplendent repose. I almost hated to disturb him.

He'd clearly managed to clean his face and part of his upper body, but his hair and back needed a little attention, along with his right arm. As I approached, I did my best to keep from looking lower than his neck, staunchly ignoring the part of my mind that was too focused on how good he looked while wet.

I moved a stool beside the tub and picked up the washcloth that he'd draped over the rim. When I looked back up at him, Celebrimbor's eyes were already watching me as a small smile stole over his lips.

"May I touch you, mellon-nin?" I asked, keeping my voice low so as not to disturb the calm spell that seemed to have fallen over us both. Had his pupils blown wider, or was that my own wishful thinking?

"Of course, you may. You, of all people, need never ask," he murmured.

"If you want me to stop at any point, tell me, and I swear to you–"

Celebrimbor grasped my hand.

"I know, mîr-nin," he said leaning forward until his damp forehead could meet mine. "I trust you. You have never hurt me, nor would you ever do so."

Drawing in a shaky breath, I allowed my eyelids to flutter shut. He'd never called me his jewel before. Surely, that was a sign of his exhaustion. Celebrimbor always had become softer and more prone to displaying platonic affection when he'd worked for too long, ignoring his own growing fatigue. As much as I wished it had meant more, I knew it never would, but as our breath mingled in this stolen moment, I felt a flicker of hope.

When we eventually pulled far enough apart for me to help him wash up, I tried to focus on the task at hand, rather than the feeling of my lord's muscles beneath my soapy fingers. Although, admittedly, I did allow myself the indulgence of giving him a small scalp massage as I washed his hair, combing my fingertips through his locks until not a single tangle impeded their flow.

Eventually, the water lost its heat, and I fetched a bathrobe and some towels from the side, bringing them closer for his use.

"If you would like me to step out..." I began to offer, but Celebrimbor shook his head.

"No. Truly, I should not have sent you out before. I was...Well, I feel much more like myself, now," he said, "and I have never been afraid of you seeing all of me. You know more of me than any other."

With a gentle smile, I moved the stool I'd been sitting on back to its place in the corner, draped a towel over my arm, and offered my lord my hands. He didn't hesitate to take them. Once he was on his feet, I glanced down to help him step out of the tub and–

Where toned thighs met, I was not at all surprised to see that his endowment was as attractive as the rest of him. And suitably sized.

My eyes met his, and I had no doubt he could tell I'd looked. Professional distance aside, I couldn't help giving him a mischievous smile.

"As I said before: you have no reason to be ashamed," I murmured, hoping that he could hear that which I was too afraid to say - the opinion which I, a mere healer, had no right to hold.

In no time at all, Celebrimbor was dry and wrapped in a soft set of silk robes. We thought it best, as he would be recovering from his ordeal for the next few days at least, to forego higher maintenance garments.

"Lemon cakes?" Celebrimbor asked as he took a seat on the divan that I'd moved farther into the sunlight - he seemed to savor it before. He looked between me and the tray as if attempting to solve a problem. "They're my favorite, but...how did you...?"

I couldn't help but smile as I crushed some herbs in a mortar and pestle, adding in some oils to bind the mixture together.

"You mentioned it the day we met," I answered. That day was one of my most pleasant memories, despite how it had started. The scent of dogwood blossoms still lingered in my memory as sweetly as perfume, lulling me back to that day as gently as a spring breeze.

"But...that was decades ago. Why would you remember something so trivial?" He asked, and looked up at him. Disbelief colored his features along with something softer - something I'd never dared to imagine seeing upon his face.

"Because it's something about you," I admitted as my heart hammered in my chest. Dropping my gaze back to the herbs, I tried to act as though I was still completely focused on creating the poultice my lord's hand required instead of my poor racing heart. Dropping my voice to a whisper, I both hoped and did not hope that he would hear me. "Everything about you matters to me."

Carrying the mortar and pestle over once I'd gathered myself, I took a seat beside him and lifted his injured hand.

"Forgive me. This will sting for a moment, but the oils should soothe the pain away quite quickly," I stated. With all the care I could muster, I scooped out part of the light green substance and dabbed it ever-so-lightly upon his wound. He didn't even flinch as I worked.

Truly, I should not have been surprised. Celebrimbor was a smith. He was used to injuries, even if they were not on par with...well, this. I'd set a broken bone in the same hand merely a decade before I was sent to Lindon, and even then he'd only let out a slight hiss of pain. Pride stabbed through me. Of course he'd escaped Sauron. How could he not with such strength?

My vision blurred as I reached for the gauze and cloth that I was meant to be covering the wound with, but I didn't truly process that I was crying until Celebrimbor brushed my tears away with his uninjured hand.

"What are these tears? Am I not meant to be the one in pain?" He asked giving me the same sweet smile he'd offered the day we met.

Turning just far enough to kiss his wrist, I tried to reassure him.

"I'm not in pain. I am more relieved than I have been in all my life." That was far too close to an admission for my taste, but after coming a hair's breadth from losing him, did I really want to stay silent for much longer? Carefully, I began wrapping his hand, ensuring that it was not too loose or too tight.

When I tied off the end over his palm, however, it occurred to me that after all he'd been through, Celebrimbor did not need a declaration of that sort after such a harrowing experience. He just needed a friend to be there with him. As that was all I would likely ever be to him, I smiled up at him and asked him how it felt.

"Perfect," he murmured in a lower, slightly rougher voice than before. Had I caused him more pain? Was the mix of oils wrong?

No. No, breathe. I'd treated Lord Celebrimbor before, and though he was the embodiment of kindness, he would've told me if something felt wrong. Perhaps he was tired? Yes, that was it. His long journey must be catching up with him. I'd noted the same when he was in the bath, so surely that was the only explanation. Carefully, I wiped my hands clean.

"We should change this in the morning and again before you go to bed tomorrow," I murmured, forcing out the professional advice that was so familiar to me. "We'll carry on like that for a few days, and see how you are healing as time progresses."

"As my healer wishes, but..." Celebrimbor trailed off, pausing as if he was considering whether to speak or remain silent. "You're...not leaving yet, are you?"

There was something vulnerable and frightened in his eyes now, something fragile that I was quite sure might break if I did leave. Instead, I smiled at him and shook my head.

"No, my lord. I will stay here with you as long as you wish," I promised, and his shoulders sagged in relief. After setting aside my supplies, I poured his tea how I knew he preferred it, and in the peace of Lindon's golden sunlight, we chatted as we used to. Since our correspondence had been so rudely prevented by a certain dark force, we filled each other in on all that we'd missed.

Celebrimbor insisted during that time, that I help him eat those lemon cakes. By the time the sun had begun to set, we'd even sent for a second pot of tea.

Amidst a lull in the conversation, Celebrimbor covered my hands with his own. My eyes flicked up to his, only to find him looking at me as if I'd hung the very stars in the sky.

"Is something amiss, my lord?"

"I should have told you years ago," he whispered. "I was a coward for so long. I only made it back here - back to you - by the sheerest of luck. I very nearly lost my chance entirely."

"After all these years, 'coward' is not a word I would ever think to call you," I said, but he shook his head.

"But I am. I have been so afraid that I would ruin the rapport that we've built," he insisted. "I am a coward, because I could not tell you until it was very nearly too late. I think a part of me hoped that if I could create something worthwhile...something to change Middle Earth, I would be worthy of risking the admission."

"What do you mean, mellon-nin?"

"My tunic!" He blurted, and at the alarm in his features, I startled.

"I don't understand. What about it, my lord?"

"Has it been taken away to be cleaned yet?" He asked, and I shook my head.

"No, my lord, I haven't had the chance, yet. I can do so now," I said, and he let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank the Valar! No, don't take it yet, but...would you bring it to me?" Without hesitation, I hurried over to the table where I'd laid his clothing and pulled out his rumpled tunic. The stained green velvet had clearly seen better days. I sat beside him once more, and he folded the top inside out. Just inside the neckline, there was a small, concealed pocket. From within it, he pulled a velvet drawstring bag.

Discarding the tunic carelessly on the floor beside him, he took a steadying breath and offered me the bag. I accepted it cautiously, in case whatever was inside was fragile.

"This was the only thing I wanted to sneak out of my forge. The only thing that really mattered besides the nine," he said sounding more nervous than he had for most of the night. Darting his eyes between the bag and my face, Celebrimbor's tongue wetted his lips. "I meant to give it to you before you came to Lindon, but...I wasn't sure if...well..."

He trailed off and swallowed nervously.

"I feel fortunate to even have the opportunity to tell you, late though I am," he murmured. "Please...open it."

Carefully loosening the drawstring, I tipped the contents of the bag gently into my palm. Gleaming silver inlaid with the purest, brightest diamonds I'd ever seen sparkled up at me. Setting the bag aside, I lifted what I thought at first was a necklace, but upon its unfurling, I realized it was something entirely different.

"My lord, this is much too beautiful for one of my station," I protested looking up at him in awe.

"Nonsense. A circlet of a static shape would not adapt well if you wanted to wear your hair in more than one style. Such an adornment was a pleasure to make...for the Lady of Eregion," the last part of his statement came out as a whisper, and I froze. "I-I realize that title would not be applicable now, because Eregion is no more, but...I still wish you to have this. E-Even if you do not feel the same affection for me that I do for you, I still believe it would complement your beauty–"

My lips met his, cutting off his rambling. How could he think I would not want him? After all this time, after a century, I would've thought that I'd failed to hide my feelings quite spectacularly on several occasions. Lingering embraces, rather obviously adoring looks, spending practically all my time with him in his study and his forge - I had not been subtle, mentally berating myself on countless occasions for overstepping my bounds.

"I love you," I blurted as soon as we separated. "Since the day we met, I have held no other in higher regard. But...my lord, I am only Half-elven. You deserve so much better than me."

"Ridiculous. Of all the people I have encountered, you have done something that no other has: you have filled a hole in my heart which I did not know existed before we met. You have given me more to look forward to than just my work and my duties," he said cupping my face so gently between his strong, calloused fingers. The softness of his smile, the lines adorning the outer corners of his eyes - everything about him was so open and vulnerable that despite all the decades of accumulated doubts and fears, I believed him. "Meleth, your light chases away even the darkest of shadows. I love you, and I would spend my life with none but you."

When his lips claimed my own, he tasted of citrus, sugar, and courage. The next morning when High King Gil-Galad asked me to report on Lord Celebrimbor's condition, he noted the gleaming silver atop my head with a conspiratorial smirk and ordered me back to my patient's side. For his health, of course. If he called out a quiet congratulatory wish as I left, well, who could comment upon the thoughts of kings?

~*~*~

Elvish Words:

mîr-nin = my jewel

híril vuin = beloved lady

hir-nin = my lord

meleth = love

~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1 @horta-in-charge @gandalfthepimp

#elronds-meleth-nin fic #celebrimbor x reader

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signedkoko · 11 months ago

Note

Hello if you don't mind I'd like to request lucifer and Lilith x a reader that is a half sinner half demon like readers one Parent was a demon and the other was human, type of vibe you know

And maybe since the reader is half demon they are like stronger then the overloards in the pride ring

Lucifer X Reader X Lilith [Romantic]

In which you were born of a sinner and demon, which give you the advantage most overlords lack. Genderneutral reader.

Not many sinners and demons got along, considering the powerful advantage most sinners had over demons and the distinction between the groups

Despite that, your parents were anything but normal, and they lived as they died—in love

Unfortunately, you lost them to an extermination, and while it was a stab in the heart, you knew it was an inevitability

You'd been extremely lucky to that right, since your creation not another had been born or made to exist; you were hell's own miracle

Your appearance made heads turn, journals typed away about your life, and despite not living the life of a celebrity you were treated like one by the press

Your existence was, of course, of interest to Lucifer, who was more than eager to introduce himself the first time you were face-to-face

He was with his wife, who easily towered over the two of you, and embarassingly enough, they cooed at your features—a mix of two worlds

Royalty was royalty, so you did your best to be calm and introduce yourself, which ended in a long string of chatter until the two were pulled off

Lucifer is mostly interested in you since you are the first hell-born human.

Lilith is interested because you are both similar, somehow sinners and demons combined, albeit in much different ways

One day, you receive concert tickets in your mail to see Lilith perform as a VIP

There is a personal note from her mentioning that she would love to see you at her performance and that she hopes you enjoy the show

Of course you go! You even splurge on a nicer outfit

Her show is outstanding, and you had one of the best nights of your life being treated so kindly by so many, as well as not being the centre of all eyes for once

Of course, you were invited backstage, and she invited you to dinner with herself and her husband, to which the rest is history

Now you were part of the family, living with them and learning plenty of hell that you'd never known prior

Their story, their goals, their interests, and their hobbies—what made them tick

They trusted you with everything.

Their favourite aspect of your mixed blood is that they can take you on dates down to the other rings and show you only the finest that hell has to offer

Your favourite is that now you aren't 'the sinner-demon hybrid' and instead 'one third of the Morningstar trio'

It is certainly a shift in lifestyle for you, from rag to riches, and they are very amused but also baffled by your way of doing things

Still, they love to hear about what hell is like from your perspective, someone who wasn't given everything

So into whatever rundown restaurants you bring them to, especially Lucifer, he would love sloppy, fucked up food

Lilith prefers bitter sweets and coffee; she ends up loving your favourite cafe, too, and now you visit at least once a week

Author's Note - Of course I don't mind! I love these two so much, still one of my favourite duos to see x readers with because maaaaaaaan!!! I hope this is what you were hoping for, please enjoy 🖤

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #lilith #lilith x reader #lucifer #lucifer x reader

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tojifile · 1 year ago

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Kibutsuji Muzan: Reincarnation

You're back..

Genre: Romance // Muzan x oiran!reader

⚠️: prostitute!reader, suggestive, kidnapping, not fully consensual

A/N: My first non-bsd fanfic !! I'm super happy about it, I read about an oiran and the differences in social classes at 12AM, it was like reviewing for my history class again. It was a lot of late-night reading so if there's misinformation please inform me immediately !!

INSPO: pinejayy

It was a well-lit and busy night, as it always was in the entertainment district. Little did everybody know the demon king—Kibutsuji Muzan was in their midst, walking along the streets, blending in with the loud crowd.

A procession was about to start, all eyes would be on the oiran—dragging her geta on the ground as she walked. The oiran on this particular night was none other than, you. Your scent was immediately picked up by Muzan. It was the same scent he had grown to love, from the person he had lost to time.

His interest was piqued the moment he picked up your scent. His gaze traveled far, trying to find the source of the scent. His gaze then landed on you, he watched you as you walked with such grace, you were as beautiful as the day he lost you.

Muzan lost you through the inevitable disease called time. You weren't willing to become a demon—instead, you promised him that you would find eachother in each lifetime and it will all end the same, with you in his arms.

You were given the name 'Minori' by the oiran who took you in as a child, starving in the unforgiving world of class and power. As an oiran you were known to be quite finicky. Although an oiran did have the right to choose who they would lay with, you were known for having not slept with anyone ever since you rose to your rank. Many men tried wooing you with their "looks" and "charm" but in the end you deem none of the worthy.

You were intelligent, beautiful, and skilled in various languages and arts. You were also a dear friend of Koinatsu, one of the most revered oiran in the Yoshiwara District. Muzan had heard about Minori before, from mundane gossip to papers of advertisement. He just didn't expect it to actually be you.

After seeing you walk, he spoke to Daki. He had released an order to his demons that you weren't allowed to be killed—instead, you had to be protected. Anyone who had protested against Muzan's order was immediately killed, without another word from their lifeless lips.

You had just gone back from the procession, you were quietly fixing up in your room, filling it with your presence. It was neither sweet nor destructive, it was just you. You were sitting in front of the mirror, fixing your hair until you saw a man appear behind you—you immediately stood up and looked back in fear.

Suddenly the room went dark, you couldn't see a thing. You then felt an eerie presence behind you—it was Muzan. He gently grabbed you from behind, by the waist and pulled you closer to him. "You're back.." he whispered in your ear.

It was strange, the man's touch was cold and his breath wasn't even slightly warm. Your body tensed up, "b- back..?." you nervously asked "Y/N.. I thought I'd never see you again.." he mumbled softly while one hand was secured on your waist, preventing further problems and the other hand lifting your chin to one side, granting him access to your neck.

'Y/N? Who was he talking about? I don't even know anyone named Y/N, maybe this was a new thing with men, maybe roleplay is quite popular nowadays, is this just a drunkard that wandered in my room?!' were the thoughts that ran into your head. You were too afraid to move, you didn't know what wrath would be brought down on you if you disobey.

Chomp he bit your neck, his fangs sunk into your neck, blood trickled down your skin, staining your carefully crafted kimono. You felt a sharp pain in your neck, you felt the blood trickling down your skin as well. He removed his teeth from your skin, letting the blood flow down.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as he stopped biting you, he turned you to him and wiped your tears away with his thumbs, a soft smile could be seen on his face. "Oh Y/N.. you used to love my bites.." he spoke with a sweet tone. You reached up for his hands "Who are you.. please stop.." You muttered, your fear was clear, you were trembling slightly as you held the back of his hands tightly. This made him angry, his grasp on you tightened and the soft smile on his face was replaced by an angry scowl.

He wasn't letting you go this time. You were going to live with him forever, he couldn't abide by your wishes. He needed you by his side, he wasn't going to play by the rules set by time and destiny.

You whimpered softly as he tightened his grip. His hands travelled back to your waist, pulling you in. You haven't fully grasped the events of the night. It was all too much.. how could he bite you like that? Who was Y/N? You looked at him through your tear-filled eyes and held onto his chest. "P- please.." you mumbled.

Muzan wasn't going to listen to reason, he let you have some of his blood to ensure that you'd stay with him forever. You were now a demon at his mercy. Although you didn't suffer the same curse the other demons did. Muzan wanted to hear you say his name, after not hearing it for centuries, he needed to hear it now.

You grasped his arms tightly as you felt yourself transform from a human to a demon. You felt your fangs and your desire for blood growing. You were still clearly competent but your body grew weaker due to the high concentration of his blood. Muzan picked you up, making sure you wouldn't be able to escape. "It doesn't matter if you don't remember me, in time you'll learn to love me again." He spoke with a cold tone. He then disappeared into the night sky with you in his arms.

Spontaneous post: 07/03/23 02:25AM GMT+8 Philippine Standard Time

#kny #kimetsu muzan #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan x you #muzan kibutsuji x you #kibutsuji kny #kibtsuji muzan #muzan #kibutsuji #kny reader insert #kny muzan #kny x y/n #muzan x y/n

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serene-destruction · 10 months ago

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(Platonic) Reactions To Finding Out You're In Hell For Killing Your Abuser [Angel, Lucifer, Alastor, Vox]

TW: Mentions of childhood sexual abuse | Cannon typical violence | Mentions of suicide

A/n: this one is really dark so reader discretion is greatly advised. Read at your own risk.

Word Count: 4.5k

Angel Dust

You and Angel Dust likely met at the hotel. You were a newer resident of hell that just so happened to be spotted by Charlie and taken in after wondering the streets.

He didn't take to you right away, considering he had his own issues to deal with. Not to mention that you were such a goody two shoes that it kinda made him feel even worse about himself. Despite his name he knew he was far from any angel and your presence only exemplified that.

By all accounts you seemed to save your shit together. A drug free, pure and kind person, through and through. You never faltered. So it takes a while for him to even stand being in your presence, longer to actually try and talk with you. He hates that he doesn't find something to hate about you. Just so damn perfect.

He should have known better, truthfully. No one gets sent to hell off a whim, there were reasons. He was just so blinded by your purity at first that he doesn't see it. He isn't the only one, either. Charlie would be the first to use you as an example of purity.

But all the same the two of you do end up getting close to each other. You may be a bit straight-laced for his taste, but he can't help but grow attached. You're a good kid, you really don't deserve to be here.

It only takes one night for his perceptions of you to shatter

It started with one of Charlie's trust games. You were all meant to share what sins brought you down here. In a place like hell that wasn't usually a very taboo subject. Murder, drugs, sex, Angel's heard it all. But despite that assurance you wanted absolutely nothing to do with the exercise. You had locked yourself in your room, refusing to participate. So while the others went on ahead Angel decided he'd talk to you.

“Kid! C’mon, it can't be that bad!”

“I don't want to!” You were adamant. He should have known it right then

“Kid…look, can ya at least let me in? I'm tired of yelling through the door!” He pleaded and, to his surprise, you did. Your eyes avoided him completely as you allowed him to step in the room. Even when the two of you sat down on your bed you didn't budge. You looked almost as terrified as the first day you came here.

“Look, I get that admittin’ what you done can be a bit…embarrassin’ sometimes,” he's tries to calm you.

“But none of us are perfect and you ain't any different. Hell, it might even be good for you” his attempt at comfort didn't seem to be working. In fact he might have made it worse, given how you turned further away from him.

“It’s not just because it's embarrassing! I- I just don't want to tell everyone!” you answer through a tightening voice. There's a pause as Angel considers your words before he speaks again.

“Then you don't gotta tell everyone. You can just tell me” He was surprised when the offer had you turning back to him, though your discomfort was still evident. You didn't say anything at first but eventually you found the words.

“...Promise you won't tell anybody?” he fought the urge to roll his eyes. He was sure you were being overdramatic. You probably told a little lie that got out of control or accidentally kicked a puppy or-

“Promise” he answered anyway.

And so you told him

“I…I was tired of him touching me” Angel’s stomach immediately drops at just those few words. All of his previous downplaying caused an explosion of guilt within him.

“He was always touching. Every day since I was little. Every time he was over, every time I was alone. I couldn't- I…I just wanted it to be over”

He knew where this was going.

“I-I snapped. I just couldn't take it anymore. Eighteen fucking years” your voice is a mix of rage and pain, a sound he didn't think you capable of until now.

“I'd never been so angry. I didn't- I didn't know what I was doing until it was over. There was blood everywhere- I killed him and…and I couldn't live with myself. I'd never done something like that before! I'd never hurt anyone! I couldn't live with that- I couldn't-”

Before you can spiral any further you feel Angels hand land on yours. With slow, purposeful movements he pulled you into his arms. You freeze for a moment, caught entirely off guard by the sudden comfort. He was careful not to hold you too tight and keep his breaths steady. Keep himself predictable.

“S’okay kid…You didn't do a damn thing wrong” his whispered words break through your shock, melting you into a pile of sobs in his arms, gripping onto him like your very soul depended on it.

After that night the two of you quickly become known for your fierce protectiveness over each other. Angel swears that if he ever sees the bastard he'll rip him a new asshole before shoving a spike in it.

Lucifer Morningstar

You were one of many assistants to Lucifer, helping him with the many tasks he doesn't ever keep up with as the king of hell. You are most likely ignored and/or forgotten about for a while. He is far too, uh…busy for remembering much of anything, let alone names and job titles.

However you do manage to catch his eyes when he finally notices your apparent lack of any sort of social life in hell. Unlike the others he has working for him who seem all too happy to indulge in hells many depraved luxuries, you aren't one of them.

It triggers his curiosity, so he starts to remember your name and even manages to strike up conversations with you that don't sound like he's desperately trying to remember who he's even talking to.

You begin to be the first person he goes to when he needs something done and in turn you go to him when you need something as well. It's never anything too much, he notices. Always just small tasks that take him almost no effort at all. But you seem to beam at even the smallest kindness.

But then there is that ill-fated night…

It was late and you were still hard at work in your office.

Or at least you would have been, if you didn't feel like the weight of everything was weighing down on you as you stared down the two items Lucifer had left for you. A small note and a tiny rubber duck. You kept re-reading the note over and over again.

‘You're a good kid, Y/n. Keep it up’

The small gesture had formed a sickening guilt in you. You were the farthest thing from good. What you had done rightfully landed you in the shithole you belonged in. You didn't deserve his kindness, let alone his care. You felt so guilty for ever allowing him to think that you-

A knock at your door has you quickly wiping away your tears. Before you can say anything he opens it, his wide smile falling immediately.

“Oh no, what-” he pauses when he sees the death grip you have on the rubber duck he'd gifted, your eyes unable to even glance at him. He gives a nervous laugh at that. It sounds more worried than anything.

“You uh- don't like the gift, I take it?” At that your head whips to look at him, an attempt to calm your nerves written all over your face.

“No! No that's not-…no” your frantic words die down quickly as you quickly turn away again, unable to look the man in the eyes. There is a long silence that feels almost like an eternity passing. Then, to your complete surprise, he slowly pulls up a chair next to you, his eyes not turning from you for even a moment.

“Do you…maybe wanna talk about what it is then?” His voice is disarming, a mix of poorly feigned calm and genuine concern. It frightens you how quickly he makes you want to spill your guts.

“It's- I’m not-” You pause, trying to collect your words. You know then that you can't bear to tell him anything but the truth.

“I don't deserve this” you gesture to the toy and his letter. He doesn't seem to understand.

“You? Y/n, you're practically the only reason I get any work done around here! The least I can do is this, truly. Why wouldn't you deserve it?” His tone is full of disbelief, almost entirely sure that you must be avoiding telling him the entire truth.

“Because it isn't true” the bluntness of your words catches him off guard.

“I killed him and…and it felt good when I did it. It felt good to hurt him like he hurt me, it felt good being in control. It didn't feel bad when I put that knife through his throat, It didn't feel bad when I finally got him to stop touching me. It didn't…until it was over” the tears that had brimmed at your eyes fell like rivers, your attempts to wipe them away fruitless. You didn't dare look him in the eye, even as you continued.

“There was so much blood. I…I didn't know what to do. I- I didn't mean- no, no I did. But I just couldn't live with it. I couldn't live knowing that I killed him and that all I could think about was that he'd never touch me again! I couldn't-!” your words are cut off by the feeling of arms wrapping around you. For a moment you freeze, confused and horrified by the action, that is until the comfort of it seeps into you, knowing that the hands that held you now meant no harm. After that you sobbed into him.

Only once you'd calmed your sobs to hiccups and your grip loosened did he finally pull away. But he didn't go far and his eyes looked at you with nothing but pure concern.

“You listen to me, okay? I would never hold that against you. I couldn't if I tried. You did what you had to and I trust that you did it for the right reasons” his words of forgiveness strike through you, hitting you directly in your wounded heart. Never before had you believed anyone could look so kindly upon you knowing what you'd done.

After that day Lucifer had become quite father-like to you, treating you just like he would his own kid. You practically become an honorary Morningstar.

Alastor

You and Alastor have an…interesting relationship. the two of you very likely met at the hotel, considering he wouldn't have given you a second glance otherwise. You were, after all, just one of the many other souls, and not an impressive one at that. Meek, young and weak.

It takes a long while for Alastor to warm up to you, most likely because you avoid him at all cost. You learn quickly that Alastor doesn't like being avoided like that when he begins to follow you around.

It's through conversation that he grows interested in you. When you aren't blinded by your fear he's actually a great conversationalist, especially when he's alone with you. It seems almost like he drops a bit of his guard as well, something you explain away as you being of zero threat to him. The two of you often talk of your plans for the day and whatever latest idea Charlie has conjured. Small talk, for the most part. Never anything personal

Which is why you are so caught off guard when he asks the truthfully inevitable question.

It was a usual calm morning in the hotel kitchen. A bit of smooth jazz played from an old radio, the coffee machine churned, the constant static from Alastor flowed through the room and the sound of idle chit-chat passed between the two of you. Besides the fact that no one else joined the two of you, it all seemed relatively normal.

“I must say, for someone in Hell you have quite the kind heart, my dear. One might even ask how you managed to get yourself down here” Alastors words cause your heart to sink almost immediately. Your body tenses, your breathing catching for just a moment. You make sure to keep your eyes on the coffee pot and manage to give him a halfhearted laugh. But you know the moment he goes quiet for just that second too long that he noticed.

“How did you end up down here, if you don't mind telling me?” You feel your tongue go dry, your jaw clench, your entire being beg to leave this conversation. But you knew there wasn't a chance in all of Hell that you'd get out of this. If he didn't get an answer now he'd be sure to get one later.

“I uh…” you start, nausea threatening to crawl in.

“I don't know” you try to answer, hoping beyond hope that it would satisfy him.

It did not.

“Now now, one mustn't feel the need to lie to friends. I assure you I've seen worse than whatever it is you managed to do!” You pause at his words, finally turning over your shoulder to look at him.

“We’re…friends?” You ask, surprised to see him look almost just as confused by your words.

“Why of course! The both of us have quite nice talks with one another, why wouldn't we be?” He seems so confident as he speaks. Despite how skeptical you've been ever since meeting him, you can't help but feel that he might genuinely be growing on you. Fuck, you might even trust the guy. Not with your soul, mind you, but you were sure at least your words would be safe with him.

“Out with it then, what got you sent down to this lovely pit of fire and brimstone?” his tone is jovial and light, not taking this nearly as seriously as you felt he should be. You were weirded out when it actually helped you calm down a little.

“Well…” should you tell him? Would he even care? Would he blink an eye at your suffering? Would he laugh at you? All the possibilities ran through your head at once.

When you finally turned to face him he gave you an expectant look, fully anticipating an answer from you. So you took a deep breath and turned your head to gaze at a nearby wall before beginning.

“My uncle, he um…well he didn't really know how to keep his hands to himself. Ever since I first met the man he wouldn't keep his damn hands off me. Then mom died and I had to live with him and…” you pause a moment, trying to keep yourself together. With a deep breath you continued.

“He never stopped touching me. No one believed me, no one did anything. Not when I was eight, or ten, or fifteen. Not after either. I was just alone with him. Every day of every month of every year…until I couldn't take it anymore” your voice was quiet now, just above a whisper to keep it from shaking.

“I was cooking dinner when he came behind me and-…I snapped and…well I'm not really sure. I just remember being covered in blood and knowing that no one would believe me. So I did what I thought was the only thing I could do. Next thing I knew I found out I had been damned for all eternity” you hugged yourself in an attempt at comfort that wasn't working. You managed, by the smallest effort, to keep your tears in and your breath steady, but you knew you'd break at any moment. When you turned to him, his smile still plastered and staring blankly at you, you thought you just might have done so then. So you quickly turned back around to save yourself the embarrassment.

“But yeah. Pretty sure that's why I'm here-”

“That was quite brave of you” his words shock you still enough that you might have even felt your heart stop. Your head snaps back to him in an instant, unsure if you'd heard him right. He's standing now, smile just a little less wide and leaning on his cane. If you didn't know any better you might have mistaken it for a look of uncanny care.

“What?” You whisper the word. He stands a little taller at that.

“When the world stops caring then one must simply make it. Very few do so, and so I applaud your effort in taking fate into your own hands” he is serious, almost deathly so. His words aren’t what you expected, but they are actually some of the most comforting you'd ever heard. Not only because he believed you, but because he truly believed you'd done the right thing.

“...Thank you” his smile widens again and you catch how ever so slightly bigger his antlers have gotten and the small flicks of green that seem to only show in your peripheral. You choose not to say anything about it.

“Of course! Now I simply must be on my way! There is much to do and so little time. Have a pleasant rest of your morning!” he was out the door before you even realized he was leaving. You would have said goodbye yourself if you didn't know he was already gone. And without his coffee too!

After this little incident Alastor seems almost tied at your hip. You are warned time and time again not to get too close to him but after the way he took the news of your sin you honestly don't think you could push him away. He was the first person you'd ever told in Hell, the first person to ever believe you. And given how keen he is on keeping you safe both in and out of the hotel you are quite happy to call him a friend.

Vox

The only way you'd be able to get even a second glance from Vox is if you worked for him and, let's be real, he couldn't have given less of a shit about you when he first met you. You were one out of thousands that worked on his many, many projects. You were lucky if he ever even read your name, let alone remembered it.

It takes quite the circumstance for him to notice you and it's likely only because of very selfish reasons. Maybe he picks you out of the crowd as a gag at first. The big CEO talking to this meek little low life, giving them a glance at something they'll never achieve.

But Vox has a way of getting attached to the strangest things sometimes and you end up being among them. Maybe it's the way you go along with whatever he's saying, playing to his ego. Maybe it's the way he knows you don't mean a single word and he feels he has to prove himself. Or maybe he just liked having a bit of a babyface around to impress. Either way, he ends up kind of taking you in.

You become a sort of protege to Vox as he teaches you all about his company and how to run it; mostly so he can hand you the tasks of the day that he doesn't feel like handling. You're a secretary of sorts. He does, however, try to keep a distance between you and the other V’s. Mostly because he knows they can be a bit much and he doesn't want to scare you off just yet.

But it's inevitable that you would meet them someday. And, as he expected, the first meeting didn't go very well.

You and Vox were on your way down the hall in the middle of idle conversation that was mostly work related. You liked having these conversations with him, mostly because he always seemed so pleased when you'd give him an idea he liked or a change he'd consider. You felt useful in a way you hadn't really ever felt before-

“My my, if it isn't Vox and his new little pet” the voice speaks behind you and both you and Vox turn to see who it is. You are set on edge when Vox gets suddenly nervous.

“Val! I thought you had work down in the studio today?” Vox’s voice booms in the way you know he only does when he's trying to keep his cool. You make sure to stand a little closer to him when Val walks up to the two of you.

“You've been hiding from me, love. So I figured I'd pay a visit. Good thing too” the moth man leans down to you so close you feel your entire being beg to disappear.

“I wouldn’t have met the darling that's been keeping Voxy so occupied. Cosita bonita” he looks down at you, his smile alone sending a cold shiver up your spine. He grabs your hand and instead of doing anything normal like shaking or kissing it, he instead begins to lick up your arm.

“Rumor has it your little fall from grace betrays how sweet as you look” Horrified and feeling very familiar fear consume your being, you freeze up. Luckily, and rather surprisingly, Vox very quickly pulls him away from you.

“Alright, alright that's enough of that!” his tone is that of a light reprimand, though the swirls in his eyes betray him. He effortlessly spins the moth man around in something similar to a dance, ending with the two of them facing away from you. Whispered words are exchanged, Val glancing back at you for only a moment afterwards before walking off with no complaint.

Vox straightens his suit, his performative smile falling for a moment before turning back to you.

“Let's get back on our way” he beckons you as he continues to walk. You follow along, compliant as ever. He leads you to an elevator where the two of you get in and he clicks whatever floor he'd decided he had work on. You think everything is relatively normal until, with a wave of his hand, the elevator stops.

“What did he mean?” The question confuses you.

“...about what?” You ask, unsure what he was getting at. He turns to you.

“About your ‘fall from grace', what was he getting at?” the realization dawns on you the same way acid would drip into an old wound. There was really only one thing that could mean and the fact that a man you'd never met knew enough to mention it made you sick to your stomach.

“Kid?” He calls to you and it's only then you notice tears build in your eyes. You quickly blink them away before making sure to avoid looking in his general direction.

“I…don't know” you tried, very unconvincingly, to feign ignorance. Unfortunately that didn't go over well with him.

“I don't think I've met a worse liar in the entirety of Hell than you” he states plainly and you can't help but agree. You hadn't really ever had practice in the field. Yet even with his call on your bullshit you chose to stay silent.

“Look, If Val knows then chances are I'm finding out anyway. He's not exactly great at keeping his mouth shut” he tries to convince an answer out of you but his words only make it worse. You didn't want that creep to know in the first place! But, being ever so horrible at keeping such a cold front up, you break under his gaze.

“It’s why I'm in Hell” you start off vague and you notice how he leans in just a bit closer.

“Seriously? That's what's got you upset? What, was it embarrassing? Because believe me, I'm sure I've heard worse” he was really trying to sell you that notion, what with the wide smile and undivided attention, but you couldn't help the nagging voice that told you he wouldn't believe you.

But still, you assumed it better he heard it from you than Val. After all, you and Vox were pretty close at this point. If there was anyone that you'd tell, it would be him.

“No it's- well it is embarrassing, but-” you stammer a moment, trying to find the right way to say it. Soon enough you fix your eyes on the metal doors and just spill.

“I had an uncle. I lived with him for a while, most of my human life really. And he uh…I was just a kid at the time and he- he couldn't keep his hands to himself. Just kept…touching me. For years” the way the information pours out of you is forced. Like you have to pry it from your own mind and shove it out your throat. But there was no point stopping now.

“And then I just couldn't take it anymore. I don't even really know what happened. One second I was cooking dinner and the next he came behind me and…and then everything was bloody and…” you trail for a moment, your mind brought back to that horrific memory. Without a thought you finally turn to Vox.

He looks completely deflated, stripped of that egocentric smile of his and leaving nothing but a shocked still expression in its place. His mouth hangs slightly open as if to say something, but no words come. You feel your tears sting your eyes at the sight.

“No one believed me when I told them what he was doing, no one believed me when I told them for how long. So I knew when I killed him it would just be the same. That they'd make him a martyr and I'd be the villain and- and I couldn't deal with that! I- I didn't want to live through that again!” your voice raises at the end, voice pleading to be listened to, to be believed. Fuck, even just heard.

You get what you ask for with his stunned silence and tense posture. After a moment though you can't help but feel like you want to take your words back, his silence disturbing you greatly.

Just as you're about to ask him to forget what he'd heard, to pretend like you hadn't ever said anything and move on like normal, his hands reach slowly for you. The movement confuses you so greatly that you don't even think to stop him when he silently pulls you into him. You stand rigid for a long moment before, bit by bit, melting into sobs. He holds you tighter in the silence of the elevator and you can't help but grip onto him like your afterlife depended on it.

It's after this that Vox becomes fiercely protective of you. It's incredibly strange for everyone, including yourself. He is adamant that it's just because you know so much about his company, that it's all purely business. But when you think back to that day in the elevator you can't help but believe that he might just actually care about you.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel & reader #alastor & reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar & reader #vox & reader #angel dust & reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vox & reader #hazbin hotel angel dust & reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #platonic hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel & you #gn reader

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batsplat · 2 months ago

Note

Wait what’s the tea on Valentino’s sleep patterns 👀👀 (fellow insomniac / recent motogp fan always looking for more representation)

oh yeah, if you're looking for representation for poor sleeping habits you've very much come to the right place. his sleep patterns are pretty remarkable you have to say. way too nocturnal for a professional athlete, reliant on naps to get through the race weekend, all power to him for somehow making that work and winning all those titles. pretty sure I've read somewhere that he's still known for doing sim races at ungodly hours these days, just how he lives his life

tbh I can't remember off the top of my head where I'd actually read about his sleeping patterns, but I've cobbled together a decent selection of quotes from the usual sources. the most interesting stuff he's said on the topic is in his autobiography - where he goes into rather a lot of detail about his preference for the night. given that it's quite a lengthy passage, I've chucked it under the cut. he frames his nocturnal inclination as not only suiting his natural body clock better, but also as a way of escaping the rest of the world - of being able to move around in peace and silence and anonymity. plus, he liked to spend his nights in the garage to... *pinches bridge of nose* have some special personal time with his bike, when it was just the two of them. take that as you will

before that, let's just start with a few more general descriptions of his sleeping patterns. from early in his career, jerez 1998 (from oxley's vr files):

The camper only holds two people, but that's okay. I don't like my dad to sleep with me, because when it gets to ten o'clock he starts saying: "Vale, Vale, got to bed!", but I can't go to sleep before one or two. We did share a motorhome in '96 and it made life very, very difficult for me.

and about brno 1999 (from oxley's vr files):

On weekends when I'm not racing, I never go to bed before six or seven on Sunday morning. If it's a party, maybe even later, but going to bed at six in the morning is quite normal for me! Even when I was 14 I used to go to bed at 4am. Quite often I'd be riding around the local minimoto tracks until after midnight! If I go to sleep at 11 or 12 I just lie there, my eyes wide open. Maybe I would be good for 24-hour racing!

and then a few years into his premier class career, valentino says the following (x):

'I have a lot of energy after 2am,' Rossi agreed. 'I like to sleep in the morning. I have some problems at the start of the day.'

we've also got a description of crew chief jb's influence in terms of making sure valentino wasn't slacking off by sleeping in (from oxley's vr files):

Burgess' talents aren't restricted to getting the best out of a 500. The Aussie has been in GPs for decades and knows how to extract the best from riders as well. He expects 100 per cent commitment both on the track and in the pits, and when he doesn't get that, he gives 'em hell. Some other crew chiefs won't do that - they're too overawed by their riders' superstardom. JB laid down the law last summer when late-sleeper Rossi turned up late for practice. Rossi suggested that in future one of the crew should be despatched to his motorhome each morning to make sure he was out of bed. No way, said Burgess, I'll be there to give you your wake-up call. Rossi's not overslept since.

and from 2001, in valentino's own words:

Q: Tell us about your sleeping habits, JB has had to wake you a few times for practice... VR: I never go to bed before 1 o'clock, and there's no limit on when I go to bed, but even when I go to sleep very late I always wake up at 8.30, though when I do wake up I always have a big confusion for the first five minutes, then after that I remember: "Oh fuck, I'm at world grand prix!" So I have a shower and then I'm okay. I never get up too close to riding time because the 500 is a dangerous bike so it's necessary to be awake when you climb aboard. Back in the afternoon after practice at four or five o'clock I'll sleep for another hour.

only semi-related but valentino's also talked about... you know, this generational shift - where the sport has become more professionalised, which is reflected in certain lifestyle changes (from barker's rossi biography):

"The next generation is always stronger. They are more professional, they put more effort in, they make a perfect life, they eat in a good way, they don't drink, they go to sleep early, they train every day from the morning to the night... I come from an era where the riders drank beer and smoked cigarettes!"

also plenty of talk of jet lag obviously... doesn't struggle with it too much headed westwards because he says he basically lives on american time anyway. the other direction is tougher, but in his youth he decided that he might as well try to continue living on italian time. so he essentially went racing at 5 in the morning (about phillip island 1998, from oxley's vr files):

I don't have a problem with jet lag, I always sleep. Last year in Indonesia I stayed on Italian time for the whole grand prix - so I was racing at five in the morning! But the difference is too great to do that in Australia.

how on earth are you racing motorcycles like that. mind you, he won that 1997 indonesia race

so yeah. king of disordered sleeping. given the nature of motogp schedules and how they do kind of require you to actually get up in the mornings, congrats to him for being remotely functional during race weekends. crazy how he even won the odd race

and here's the autobiography passage:

My day, usually, begins in the afternoon. It’s as if I exist inside my own personal time zone. I live at night, because I love the night. Now, this might make you think I do goodness-knows-what in the wee hours, or that I don’t live the life of a professional athlete. It’s true, I don’t live the life of an athlete in the traditional sense — early to bed, early to rise and all that — but this does not mean that I’m not careful about what I eat and drink or that I don’t train. In fact, I train a lot, both in the gym and on the bike. It’s just that I go to the gym in the afternoon, rather than the morning. Equally, when I’m training on the bike, down at the quarry, I always go in the afternoon, never at nine o'clock in the morning. My body has a certain type of metabolism. It is used to living according to a different body clock. That’s why, even if I’m travelling all over the world, I don’t experience jet lag and I rarely go to bed before 3 a.m. It’s much more likely that I’m just tucking into bed as people are leaving for work. As I say, I have a special relationship with the night. I like moving in it, living in it, thinking in it, relaxing in it. The night fascinates me, because it’s the period of least confusion. The world calms down, it goes quiet. And, besides, I’m Valentino Rossi. I’m wanted... I'm a fugitive. Yes, I’m always running away from my _ beloved countrymen. The Italians. I’m proud to be Italian, I'm proud of our merits and I regret our shortcomings. Italians are exceptional people. In every way. Even when they start loving you. Because that’s actually when problems can arise — if it’s you that the Italian falls in love with. Italian people are warm, empathetic, spontaneous. But they can also be excessive, oppressive and disrespectful. I don’t know who said that Italians will forgive everything except for success. Whoever it was, they were right. Because it’s absolutely true. After the 1997 season, I could tell I was becoming popular. Year after year, that popularity turned into fully fledged love. They’re in love with me now and, as a result, since the 2004 season, I’ve been a man on the run. And there’s no escape, no end in sight, because wherever I go they find me. There are simple things, the little pleasures in life, which I simply can’t engage in when I’m back in Italy. I can’t go to the bar and have a cappuccino, because I would not be able to drink it. To be fair, I can do it in Tavullia, but that's the only place. If I go more than a few kilometres in any direction from the centre of town, that's it, everything changes and I become, once again, a hunted man. I can’t walk into a store, look at something and decide what I want to buy. In fact, I can’t stop anywhere, not even at a petrol station. If I stop, I’m screwed. Somebody will recognise me (Italians are exceptionally good at recognising people), make a lot of noise, call other people and then, before I know it, I’ve been swallowed up by the crowd. If I schedule a meeting with someone, we have to meet in a secret, out-of-the-way location and, even then, we can't linger. I can't go to a restaurant if there are too many people inside. And if I do go, I can't go at a normal time, say eight o'clock. I have to go later, much later, when people are leaving. And I can't sit where I like, I have to hide away in a corner, in the shadows. As for places like cinemas or the beach, forget about it. They are just always off-limits.

Having said that, I do mix with people. I do it because I like doing it. It’s just that I wish I could do it as a normal person, because, deep down, I am a normal human being. This is part of the reason why I have to live at night. It would be that much tougher during the day, with all those people about. Plus, I don’t like the traffic, the chaos, the noise, all those people running all over the place, stressed out and out of breath. The night is different. Everything is softer, there are fewer people around and you are much more free. It’s like a parallel dimension. The world is different at night. Everything is different. That’s why I’ve assimilated the lyrics of a song by the Italian artist Jovanotti, “Gente. della notte” (“People of the night”). It has become my personal anthem. Jovanotti is one of my favourite singers and I find myself agreeing with him on most things. I love his work. What else can I say? The night is my reality. And I don’t change just because Grands Prix are scheduled during the day. My way of being and living is reflected in what I do during races. I don’t really change. Obviously, I don’t go to bed at dawn, but let’s just say that when I do, finally, go to bed, there aren’t many people around. Everything is better at night in the paddock. There is silence, the people _ have disappeared and, with them, the chaos. I can wander around freely, most of all I can enjoy the empty pit area and my bike. Yes, my bike. Because at night I often slip into the team garage. At some races I do it every single night, because I love being with my bike. My night-time activities can be traced back to the years racing in 125cc, and are directly tied to my passion for aesthetics and the stickers, which would later become my obsession. I don’t leave anything to chance'when it comes to choosing the colour or the stickers for my bike. That’s why I’ve always been central to any and all discussions when we were deciding the aesthetics of my racing bikes. I��ve done it always, with every bike, at every level, with every team. And, naturally, I still do it today. Nobody has ever been allowed to attach a single sticker to my bike, unless it was the logo of a technical sponsor. Until a few years ago I was totally inflexible about this. Now, Roby takes care of the number: he attaches it because then he needs to cover it in transparent paint. But apart - from -this, which is primarily a technical procedure anyway, I take care of everything else to do with the stickers. And this takes time and planning, which is why I started going to the garage at night. During the day it is packed with people. There are mechanics, technicians and others around. I would just get in the way, if I wanted to get near the bike just to check the stickers. As I got older and progressed from 125 to 250 and then to 500 and on to MotoGP, I maintained that passion for aesthetics and stickers, as well as the habit of dropping in on the team garage at night. I enjoy the bike during the day _ obviously, but my relationship with the bike is so special that I can spend hours with it, just looking and admiring it, making sure that everything is in order. Those are very personal moments which I find difficult to describe. The Japanese guys, both the executives but also the engineers never knew this, not the guys at Honda, not the ones at Yamaha. I don’t think they would really understand. They would probably view it as a waste of time, since I don’t actually do anything concrete. I never touch anything to do with the bike itself, beyond, obviously, the stickers. And yet I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. It’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy.

During the day everything happens so quickly, frenetically, neurotically. However, there is a sacrosanct moment when I need to step away and isolate myself. Once my commitment to the team is over, usually around 5.30 p.m., I retire to my motorhome, relax and take a nap. It usually lasts a couple hours and then I go out. There’s always something to do after dinner. Of course, the range of options depends on how many friends are around. I really start enjoying the paddock around ten o'clock at night. Before going to sleep I check on the bike again and then I go into the team motorhome, which serves as an office. Now that I’m at Yamaha, I have an office all to myself. That’s where I keep all my race gear. I do this for two reasons. My own personal motorhome is an absolute mess, nothing more fits in there and I probably couldn’t find anything amid all the junk. Plus, the office is where I change into my racing suit before going out on to the track. Thus, at night, after going to the pits to see the bike, I go to make sure that all my stuff is where it should be: gloves, suit, socks, boots . . . everything needs to be perfect, because I just don’t have time in the morning to hunt around for stuff. Thus, each morning I have to follow a very precise routine. I’m like a robot, everything is the same each day. Because the truth is that I need to be like clockwork. I just don’t have the time to think. Somebody generally comes to wake me up — usually it’s Jeremy, because he doesn’t trust my ability to wake up on my own! I then get up, wash my face (my eyes are still shut at this point) and try to stay awake as I ride the scooter from the motorhome to the pits. I then go up to the office and get dressed. There too everything is done mechanically. It takes the slightest hiccup to throw everything off, forcing me to be late to the testing.

"I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. it’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy" well -

#some of you lot really should be making more use of -#- the line 'because that's actually when problems can arise - if it's you that the italian falls in love with'#//#brr brr #clown tag #batsplat responds #i can also remember a post-retirement interview where he was up early to watch the motogp race and was suffering? can't find it though #im on the other side of the generational shift on this... the idea of approaching professional sport like that makes me twitchy #like so much of it these days is controlling every controllable variable perfect optimisation and all that. this feels so casual!!#and is honestly one of the things that makes his longevity the most impressive. one hell of a change to have to make mid career

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vilevenom · 8 months ago

Text

This bad boy is dedicated to @em-doods, because her adorable sketches of Hickory and John Dory meandering through the woods 100% are the reason I wrote this. (She also helped push me through a rather rough patch I had while writing the first bit, so a super extra special thank you there!!)

If given the chance I will write Hickory and John Dory getting together in every conceivable fashion. In this fic, they go camping.

Enjoy!!

"I've never been campin'."

"What?!" John stared wide eyed at Hickory, who looked somewhat bashful at his admittance.

"Well, I mean…I've been campin', but not, y'know, camping," Hickory unhelpfully tried to clarify while John Dory continued to stare at him in disbelief. He sighed, scratching at his cheek as he tried to think of a way to better explain himself. "Dickory an' I would need to camp out once in a blue moon, y'know, when we were out on a hunt. But it was never the kinda campin' where you get to roast marshtatoes or go swimmin'. It was just basic survival."

"Well, I can't let that stand," John said, smacking the table they were sat at with gusto, making Hickory jump. "No way. Camping, proper camping, is one of the best experiences in the world! I don't think I can let you go another second without experiencing the wonders of camping."

And that was how Hickory found himself staring out Rhonda's front window as John drove her into wilderness unlike any he'd seen before. The troll kingdoms were beautiful and unique in their own ways, but this place was truly something else. Rhonda ducked under gnarled branches and crawled through twisting vines, with John confidently at her helm, a broad smile on his face as he described to Hickory where he was taking them. The Neverglade trail, apparently, had all of the best camping spots, and he knew just the one that Hickory would enjoy.

Hickory felt like he was going to be sick, though he plastered a pleasant smile onto his face and nodded along every time John glanced at him while he excitedly spoke about where they were headed. It wasn't that Hickory didn't want to go camping with John. Oh, no. It was the exact opposite, really. He'd been looking forward to this trip since John had declared they were going a few days prior. It was the fact that it was just the two of them. Alone. Together. It made Hickory's heart jump into his throat and his palms sweat.

Thinking back on it, Hickory came to realize that he and John Dory had only really known each other for a handful of months. They'd met when Hickory had gone to Pop Village with the intention of visiting Poppy and Branch, only to find the royal couple surrounded by a group of trolls quickly revealed to be their siblings. Swiftly, Hickory had been introduced to all of Branch's brothers, and Poppy's sister, all while beginning to feel a touch overwhelmed by the new mix of personalities. Not quite sure what to say or how to act, Hickory began to flounder, when one of Branch's brothers had tugged him aside with an easy smile.

"We're a lot, huh?"

"I mean, I dunno if I'd say that, exactly," Hickory had started to demure, only to grunt in surprise as John Dory slapped a hand to his back with a guffaw.

"You don't need to be shy, man. We all know we're a lot. Big personalities," John had reassured, sliding his hand up to rest on Hickory's shoulder. "I know you're here to visit with Branch, but how about we get out of here? I happen to know that everyone else will be buggering off here pretty soon, so you'll have a chance for some one on one time with him and Poppy, but probably not for a couple hours. You can show me around town? I assume you've been here before. I've been here for a whopping three days, so I have no idea where anything is."

Hickory hadn't even realized his shoulders had been tense until they began to relax as John spoke to him. He let a slight smile curl his lips and gave a little nod. "Yeah. I can do that," he easily agreed, tucking his thumbs into his belt loops as they began to walk away from the cluster of trolls.

They'd spent the next couple of hours getting to know each other, and, quite frankly, Hickory couldn't help but to be charmed. John Dory was brash and confident in a way that made him laugh, but was also, somehow surprisingly, incredibly kindhearted.

As they were walking through town, a couple of young trollings had dashed in front of them, only for one to trip and fall directly in front of John Dory. Hickory had fully expected John to, perhaps, help the trolling up and for them to continue on their way, but instead he'd crouched down to the child's level to make sure they were okay. When it was revealed that the trolling had a scrape on their knee, John dug into his hair, pulled out a band-aid, and applied it to the injury without batting an eye. Hickory then watched in amusement as John scooped the kid up into his arms and spun around while theatrically wondering where the trolling's friend could have gone. They, of course, had been right behind John, giggling manically as the teal troll continued to spin and pretend he couldn't see them. Finally, he placed the injured child down, and the two all but begged John to go play with them.

"Sorry, I can't. See this guy behind me," John thrust his thumb over his shoulder towards Hickory, who gave them a little wave "He's my tour guide. And I can't just let him go on touring by himself."

The children whined at him while Hickory chuckled at their antics, but John ultimately encouraged them to continue on with their game, which they reluctantly did when it became obvious that John was just this side of too stubborn for them to persuade.

"That was mighty kind of you," Hickory hummed as they began to walk through the village again.

"Hm? Was it? I dunno," John said with a self depreciating little laugh and a shrug of his shoulders, "Just seemed natural to me. But, that probably comes from being the oldest of five. Lots of bumps and scrapes to take care of when they come running to you for comfort."

Hickory decided to side-step the comment about John's brothers going to him, rather than their parents. He was sure there was a story there, but it sounded like one for another time. "So…Yer the oldest brother, huh?"

John snorted, shoving Hickory playfully with an sheepish grin. "Yes. What's it to ya?"

"Not much. Just didn't much figure Branch havin' a silver fox for a siblin'."

"Silver-?! I am NOT that old. Do you see any grey hair here?!" John huffed, puffing out his chest and pulled his goggles up to show off his very teal roots, earning a laugh from Hickory. "If you must know, Branch is about fourteen years younger than me. The rest are all in between."

"Ah, can't remember with yer ancient brain? Ya need help rememberin', old man? I can always go find one of yer brothers, if ya need assistance."

"That is just uncalled for," John sniffed, looking affronted. Hickory worried for a moment that he'd taken a step too far in his teasing, when John snorted and deflated a bit. "I am getting old, aren't I?"

Hickory clicked his tongue, quickly realizing he had hit a nerve, but not the one he'd thought. "John, if I may, an' if my math is right, yer only thirty-eight. That ain't that old," Hickory reassured, offering a warm smile to the teal troll, "Yer only a few years older than I am, an' I certainly ain't old."

"Oh, yeah? And how old is the whipper snapper?" John joked, obviously lightened a bit by Hickory's reassurance.

"Thirty-two."

"Ah, you're between Clay and Floyd," John hummed, though the comment was obviously directed more towards himself.

Their conversation ebbed and flowed easily as they continued to walk through the village, Hickory occasionally pointing out landmarks or buildings he knew, while John Dory made comments here and there about how different the village was from the tree he's grown up in. He also made a point to let Hickory know that he'd obviously need to get another tour through town, what with his poor old memory not being quite what it used to be. Hickory was fairly certain he'd never had such entertaining conversation with another troll.

Eventually, they wandered back to Branch's bunker, where John bid Hickory adieu with a rather ridiculous and dramatic bow before going on his way, while Hickory descended into the bunker to have his intended visit with Branch and Poppy.

Their catching up truthfully didn't get very far before the topic of the royal couple's recent adventure and estranged siblings came up, and Hickory mindlessly blurted out, "So…what's yer brother like?"

"…which one?" Branch said with a snort, arching an eyebrow at the ex-bounty hunter.

"John Dory."

Branch seemed to think for a moment, while Poppy gave Hickory an awkward smile. "He's an obnoxious, self-centered know-it-all."

Hickory blinked, quite taken aback by Branch's opinion of his brother. "Really? I never woulda guessed that by the way he was actin' today…"

"Well, to be honest, he may be my brother, but I don't really know him that well. We haven't seen each other in twenty years, but that's the impression I've gotten of him so far," Branch said with a quiet sigh. "He'll be staying in Pop Village for a while, since Floyd is recovering. Maybe if I give him some time, my opinion will change? But, that's what I've got for now."

Hickory hummed thoughtfully, and decided he would give it some time, as well. He bounced back and forth between Lonesome Flats and Pop Village over the next few months, and never once did John Dory give Hickory the impression of being self-centered, nor did he ever become obnoxious. In fact, he continued to prove the exact opposite. Nearly every time Hickory visited, John was with Branch, Floyd, or both, supporting his younger brothers in whatever they might need. And whenever Hickory made himself known, John offered to make himself scarce so Hickory could visit with Branch unimpeded. Eventually, however, Hickory had to reveal that he'd been intending to visit John the entire time, and that had been something of an awkward chat in and of itself. The sheer surprise that had shown on John's face when Hickory admitted that he wanted to spend more time with John had certainly made his heart twist in an unexpected way.

In the end, the longer Hickory spent with John Dory, the more he seemed to develop a rather inconvenient crush on the teal troll. Especially when he did things as sweet and thoughtful as remembering Hickory had casually mentioned once that he had a soft spot for a particular cupcake made by one particular stand in the market, but he was never early enough to get one. John had presented one to Hickory with a proud little grin on his face the next time the country troll visited. Or the way he obviously thought about Hickory even when they weren't together, as on one occasion when he'd trotted up to Hickory and presented him with a rather fancy looking silver belt buckle emblazoned with intricate little flower patterns. He'd said he'd picked it up in his travels and was going to toss it away, but perhaps Hickory would like it, instead?

Now, most trolls would probably consider such actions to be relatively basic indications of friendship. However, Hickory had had so few friends, or trolls who cared for him (and not a character he and his brother created) that he couldn't help but feel special when John gave him his undivided attention. And he had a sneaking suspicion that John Dory was much the same.

He mentioned the incidents to Poppy and Branch the next time he sat down with them to chat, the former of whom cooed happily at the revelation, while the later gagged quietly.

"I…I think he's got my heart all a flutter. What do I do?" Hickory asked, head in his hands where he sat at Branch's kitchen table. He felt like a little kid, telling his friends about a crush he had on some troll well out of his league. He felt especially foolish that said friend was his crushes younger brother, who was watching him with a wrinkled nose.

"Why are you asking me? At this point, I'm pretty convinced that you know JD better than I do," Branch said with a slight grimace.

"Oh, that's so cute," Poppy gushed, waving her hands at Hickory as he glanced up at her with a long suffering sigh. "Don't give me that look. It is! I've seen you two walking around town together."

"We certainly get along like a house on fire, but I don't know what to do. I haven't done this in a while. Least, not properly," Hickory sighed, slumping onto the table they were sat around.

"I don't know, man. Talk to him about camping? That seems to be one of his favorite things," Branch offered with a shrug. "Maybe that'll help lead the conversation into something?"

And Hickory had, which did indeed lead to this whole escapade in the first place. Perhaps it would allow him the opportunity to talk to the teal troll about his feelings. If he could work up the courage to do so, that is. Especially with the discouraging little voice in the back of his head that kept telling him that if the conversation went south, he was either going to be left in the wilderness on his own, or have a very awkward trip back to Pop Village.

"How much further are we gonna haveta go to get to this mysterious campin' spot a' yers?" Hickory asked, arching an eyebrow as John turned Rhonda down yet another trail.

"Oh, not too much further, I don't think," John hummed with a smile, shooting Hickory a wink that made the ex-bounty hunter need to immediately step away to try and hide the blush that bloomed across his cheeks.

They drove in relative silence for a few more minutes, before John finally pulled Rhonda over, and Hickory managed to calm himself down enough that his cheeks were no longer enflamed.

"Here we are!" John declared, as he spun the drivers seat around to grin widely at Hickory, who offered a slightly mollified one of his own. "Now, grab your gear, we've got a bit of a hike."

"Wait, this isn't where we're campin'?" Hickory asked, watching John pull an overstuffed backpack with a sleeping roll tied to it from atop his loft bed.

"What? No, of course not. You can't get a full and proper camping experience if we're staying in Rhonda. That's, like…'glamping', or whatever. No, if you want a proper camping trip, we gotta hike a bit further in and set up tents!" John exclaimed excitedly, pulling the straps of his bag over his shoulders.

"If ya say so," Hickory said with an awkward chuckle, grabbing his much smaller bag and sleeping roll from where he'd stashed them and following John out of Rhonda.

"Now, you be a good girl," John cooed at Rhonda as Hickory stepped up behind him, "There are lots of berry bushes here, so there's loads to eat. You make sure you're back here in a couple of days, okay?" Hickory watched in amusement as John half wrapped himself around the armadillo bus's face in the closest approximation of a hug as he could get as she churred at him happily.

"Y'sure it's okay t' just leave her here?" Hickory asked as they began to walk away, the ex-bounty hunter shooting Rhonda furtive glances the further away from her they got.

"Oh, yeah. She's a good girl. Even if she's not there when we get back, she usually comes when I call, or we'll just need to wait a day or two when we get back," John reassured, as Hickory watched the energetic bus dart off into some bushes.

"…right."

And so on they went, Hickory diligently following along behind John, until he inevitably got distracted by the massive trees and flora they were hiking past. To the rather unfortunate point where John disappeared beyond a bend before Hickory had even realized he'd been left behind.

"Hey, John, have ya ever-" he'd begun as he turned from staring at a large, drooping orange flower, only to find himself completely alone. "…John?" Hickory tentatively took a few steps forward, glancing this way and that to see if he could spot the teal troll, without luck. "Sugar," he grumbled to himself, unsure if he should proceed forward, or wait to see if John would notice his absence and turn back around to find him.

Just as he turned to sit himself beneath the flower he'd gotten distracted by, a rustling in the bush startled him into pulling a knife from his pocket and brandishing it with a snarl on his face. John had warned him, at one point on their drive here, that wild critters of all shapes and sizes roamed the Neverglades, and that he should be wary of being snuck up on, lest he be eaten. John had said it like it was a joke, but Hickory had noticed the scars John's fur hadn't quite fully grown over. He had no doubt there were plenty of critters who would like nothing more than to get a taste of troll out here, and he was not eager to give them said taste.

So, he stood his ground and waited, until finally John Dory came stumbling out of the brush, leg half tangled in a bramble.

"There you are!" John laughed, shaking the bramble off his leg as Hickory quickly tucked his knife back away, "I turned around to point out some funky looking moss and you were gone."

"Sorry 'bout that. Got caught up admirin' this here flower," Hickory admitted abashedly, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder.

"No worries, man! Just gotta make sure I keep a better eye on you," John chuckled, reaching out and unexpectedly taking Hickory's hand. The country troll felt his cheeks heat up, but luckily John had turned to start tugging him along down the trail, and so missed it entirely. "Don't want you getting lost on me!"

"No, no. Don't wanna get lost," Hickory muttered mostly to himself, his gaze stuck pretty strictly on their clasped hands now, rather than the gorgeous scenery they were walking past. Occasionally John would point something out to Hickory, which would pull the country trolls gaze up for a short period of time, before inevitably trailing back down to their hands.

John didn't let go until they reached a rocky path that lead up what most creatures would probably consider a small foot hill, but was nearly the equivalent of a mountain to the two trolls. The path wound up along the side of the hill, and was only just wide enough for them to walk up one at a time. Hickory did his best to hide his disappointment as John let him go and began to trek up the hillside.

"C'mon! If we're where I think we are, there's a great spot at the top of the hill where we can stop and have lunch," John said, glancing back at Hickory with a bright grin.

"Alright, I'mma comin'," Hickory chuckled, shifting the pack on his shoulders and following along after John.

The two managed to make it about halfway up the hill when they came across a slightly wider spot on the trail, overlooking a rather picturesque little area of the Neverglades.

"Too bad there's not more of a plateau here," John lamented as Hickory stopped next to him, "This would be a great spot to stop for lunch."

"Yeah. S'real pretty," Hickory hummed, turning to look out at the view.

"Wish I'd brought my camera," John added with a despondent sigh, "But I left it in Rhonda."

"Well, ain't that just lucky for you, then," Hickory said with a smile, reaching over his shoulder into his pack, "Because I just so happen to have brought one along." He pulled a little instant camera out of his bag and handed it to John, who snatched it eagerly.

"Awesome! Say cheese," John said with a grin, holding the camera out in front of the two and snapping a photo. Hickory blinked at the flash that went off, trying to get rid of the little flare in his vision.

"Some warnin' woulda been nice," he groused quietly, rubbing at his eyes.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't have gotten such a great candid shot," John hummed, pulling the photo free of the camera and waving it slightly. He snorted once the image developed, holding it out to Hickory. "See? Perfect moment."

Hickory wrinkled his nose at the photo, which showed a happily grinning John and Hickory looking like he was, perhaps, about to sneeze. "Yeah. Real flatterin'," he muttered, reaching for the photo.

"Hey now, nuh-uh," John said quickly, pulling the photo back to hold against his chest, before quickly stuffing it into his hair, "This one's mine."

"Aw, come on, now," Hickory grumped, reaching for John's hair, "We can take a better one. You don't need t' keep that."

"No," John quickly took a step back, while shoving the camera into his hair as well, "I like it. It's mine, and you can't have it."

"Don't be childish, John," Hickory sighed, reaching for the teal trolls hair again as John quickly took another step back and snorted.

"Have you met me? I'm the least childish troll out there."

"Mhmm, you keep tellin' yerself that," Hickory chuckled, taking another step after John, only for both of them to freeze at a rather ominous cracking sound that emanated around them. "What was-" Hickory barely managed to get the words out, before he felt his foot beginning to sink as the path beneath him began to give way, and the sound of tumbling rocks hit his ears.

"Hickory!"

The ex-bounty hunter gasped as his footing slipped, quickly scrambling for John's reaching hands. The teal troll had his hair wrapped around some roots that were sticking out of the side of the hill, anchoring him as he grabbed for Hickory as he began to fall.

"I gotcha, I gotcha," John chanted as Hickory managed to grab hold of him, using his hair to pull them both away from the crumbling section of path. Once they were both on a more stable spot, Hickory opened his eyes, which he hadn't even realized he'd clenched shut, to find himself practically nose to nose with John Dory, both of them panting like they'd just run a mile.

"You okay?" John quietly asked after a beat, grip still tight on Hickory as he stared up at him.

"Bit shaken up, but I think I'll be right as rain here right quick," Hickory murmured back, glad that the adrenaline of his near death experience and lack of breath were more than enough excuse for how dark his cheeks must be from their proximity. If he just moved his head ever so slightly, he could kiss John Dory right then and there.

"Good," John's voice shattered Hickory's momentary daydream, a short pat on his shoulder telling Hickory to move away. Which he did, taking a quick step back to give John space. "I think we're close to the top now. I'd definitely say we earned our lunch."

Hickory let out a little laugh, hoping it didn't come off as nervous or anxious. "Well, you certainly did," he said, following after John, "All I did was nearly fall down the hill."

"Yeah, but you didn't," John said, glancing briefly back at Hickory, "Doesn't that also deserve celebration?"

Hickory smiled to himself as he followed after John, mentally telling his heart to shut up as it did a little summersault in his chest at John's words.

They reached the summit of the hill rather quickly after that, not stopping until they knew they were on completely stable ground, neither wanting to risk a repeat incident.

"Here we go," John sighed as they reached the top, swinging his bag off his back, "This looks like a great spot to stop for a bit."

Hickory let out a little whistle as he also set his bag on the ground, turning in a small circle to take in the views. "It's a mighty nice spot, that's for certain," he hummed, only turning back to John when he heard the tell-tale click of his camera. He snorted a quiet laugh, arching an eyebrow at John as he pulled the photo from the camera and began to wave it in the air. "Whatcha got there?"

"Memories," John stated, a little smile curling his lips as the photo developed.

Hickory felt his heart skip a beat at the look on John's face, before he cleared his throat and stepped over to take a look at the snap shot. It was a bit of an odd angle, obviously taken hastily while Hickory had his back turned, but it was a nice photo all the same. The rolling hills and vast trails stretching out into the distance could be easily seen just past Hickory's shoulder.

"S'not a bad shot," the ex-bounty hunter hummed, reaching for the photo, only to find it disappearing into John's hair to join the previous one.

"Sure is," John said with a cheeky grin, before turning to start pulling a blanket and some food from his bag.

"Cheeky," Hickory laughed, joining John on the blanket once he had it all rolled out.

They ate in relative silence for a bit, simply enjoying each others company and the view, until the camera came back out of John's hair.

"I regret givin' that thing to ya," Hickory snorted after John snapped a photo of him while he was about to take a bite of his sandwich.

"You can't blame me for wanting to document your first camping trip," John said, sticking his tongue out at Hickory, who simply rolled his eyes and continued to eat, "It's a big deal, y'know. You're trying to start fresh, try new things, be a different troll from who you once were. Taking these baby steps, even just going on a camping trip for fun, it's a lot. You said it's something you've never done before, right? You should have something to remember it by."

Hickory stared at John for a long moment, a slow smile working its way across his face. "Why, that's real sweet of you, Johnny." His smile widened into a cheshire grin as as he watched John's cheeks darken at his comment.

"Shut up," John grunted, a smile betraying his grumpy tone as he flicked a small rock at Hickory, who easily dodged it with a laugh.

They finished up their meal while chatting amicably about the trail thus far, with John animatedly regaling Hickory with stories about the first time he came up this way, long before he'd had Rhonda. He admitted it was part of the reason he'd wanted to bring Hickory to this particular spot, as it held a certain amount of nostalgia for him, since it'd been one of the first spots he'd stopped while exploring the trails.

"Ya certainly do got a lot of good memories out here, dontcha?" Hickory hummed as they packed up their bags, a soft little smile on his face as he listened to John hum to himself while retying his bag shut.

"Sure do," John chirped, before pulling the camera from his hair again and walking over to Hickory.

"Aw, what now?" Hickory snorted, somewhat wary of the camera, now that he knew John was going to take every opportunity he could to snap unflattering photos of him.

"Nothing. Come here," John said, turning Hickory so his back was to the view. He opened his mouth to protest as John stole his cowboy hat and set it aside, only to snap it closed as John wrapped an arm around his shoulder and tugged him down into his shoulder. "There. Plenty of warning this time," John chuckled, cheek practically pressed to Hickory's, "Say 'cheese'!" He held the camera up and the flash went off. Hickory blinked to get ride of the afterimage, rubbing at his eye in mild irritation as John pulled the photo from the camera. "Nice," the teal troll hummed, a warm smile curling his lips. After a moment he offered it to Hickory. "You can have this one, if you want."

Hickory took the photo with mild suspicion, knowing full well the caliber of photo John had been taking thus far, only to be pleasantly surprised by what he saw. John was grinning widely in the photo, his arm blocking the lower left corner of the frame, while Hickory looked a little dazed, with a slightly crooked smile on his own face, and his cheek squished against John's. In the background over John's shoulder the spectacular view from the top of the hill could be seen, with the sunlight speckled across the trees at just the right angle.

Hickory was pulled from his admiration of the photo by John chuckling practically in his ear, just over his shoulder, pack already strapped to his back and bouncing on his toes. "You struck speechless by my excellent photography skills?"

"Somethin' like that," Hickory said with a quiet laugh, carefully tucking the photo into the inside pocket of his vest before scooping his hat up from where John had set it and slinging his pack over his shoulder. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

The trek down from the hilltop was far less perilous than the trip up had been. To Hickory's great disappointment, John did not take his hand again once they'd reached the bottom, and in what felt like no time at all, John lead them to what he declared would be their camp site. It was a rather sizeable clearing, with bushes and tall grass most of the way around it, with only two trails leading away from it, aside from the one they'd come down to reach it. John explained that one lead to a little lake they could go swimming in, while the other lead further into the Neverglades.

"Alright," John declared, dropping his pack onto the ground with a thump, "Did you bring a tent?"

Hickory flushed, setting his own bag down more gingerly. "'Fraid not. Not gonna lie, I thought we'd be stayin' with Rhonda," the country troll admitted, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "But, it wouldn't be the first time I've slept under the stars, so I'll be just fine."

John scoffed, rolling his eyes as he began to unpack his bag, tossing tent pegs and ropes onto the ground in front of him. "Don't be ridiculous. My tent is plenty big enough for two. Besides, you never know what critter might come across camp in the middle of the night. A tent gives us at least a bit of cover."

"Ah," Hickory's brain froze for a moment, the idea of being tucked up close to John in a tent sending a little shiver down his spine. "Uh, yeah," he cleared his throat, ducking his head so the brim of his hat would hopefully hide the blush that was yet again creeping across his cheeks, "Yeah, that'd be right as rain."

"Good," John grunted, pulling folded up tent poles from his bag, "Well, since that's settled, how about you start setting up a spot for the fire while I put up the tent?"

"Sure thing," Hickory said with a quick nod, turning to wander around the camp site to pick up some stones to mark a space for a small fire pit. He paused and glanced up when he heard the soft, tell-tale sound of a pile of fabric hitting the ground, fully expecting John to have tossed the tent from his bag, ready to offer his help once again, only to bite his tongue at the realization that it was his jacket that John had tossed aside. The teal troll was busy setting up the tent poles, a little frown of concentration on his face while he worked, completely unaware of Hickory staring at him from across the clearing. "Sugar," Hickory breathed, jerking into motion quickly as John glanced at him from where he was working.

"Hey, how about, after this, we go for a swim."

"A swim?" Hickory echoed, tucking a rock into the small collection in his arm while turning to arch an eyebrow at John, only to nearly drop them all at being presented with John leaning against one of the erected tent poles, a little smirk on his face and sweat beading on his brow.

"Yeah! It's kinda humid today, and setting up this tent is making me sweaty. I think a pre-dinner swim would be nice, don't you?" John said with a little laugh, shoving himself off the pole to start gathering the fabric of the tent up from the ground. "Work up a bit of an appetite before we eat."

Hickory swallowed thickly as John tossed the fabric over the tent frame he'd set up, his brain taking a moment to catch up to what was being said to him. "Oh! Yeah! Yeah, that'd be a right fine idea," he agreed, shaking his head quickly to try and get his mind off of the sweaty, half naked troll across from him. "C'mon, Hickory. Get yer act together," he grumbled to himself, walking to a spot he thought would be good for the fire and dropping his collection of rocks.

"I think you might be too close to the tents."

"Sugar, honey an' iced tea!" Hickory exclaimed, whipping his head in John Dory's direction, who grinned sheepishly at him.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to catch you off guard. What's got your head in the clouds, anyway?" John asked, propping his hands on his hips and tilting his head at Hickory, reminding the country troll of a particularly adorable cuddle pup.

"Ah, y'know, just , uh, doin' a mental checklist. Tryin' to remember if I brought my swim gear," Hickory offered with an awkward little laugh. "Sorry. What were ya sayin'?"

"Even if you forgot yours, you can always borrow mine. I don't mind swimming in my regular shorts," John offered with an easy smile, "And I was just saying that I think where you're setting up the fire might be too close to the tents."

Hickory looked between where John had most of the tent set up, barring the tent pegs being hammered into the ground, and the pile of rocks he'd dropped on the ground to find that he was, indeed, just a bit too close. One good breeze in the wrong direction could carry embers onto the fabric. "Oh. Beggin' yer pardon," the country troll apologized quickly, bending to pick the rocks back up, "I really was too lost in my own head just then, wasn't I?"

"Hey, happens to the best of us," John laughed, shrugging a bit. "Just move it a bit over there," he gestured vaguely away from the tent, "And it should be fine. I think I saw a decently sized stick over there, too. We can move it into the clearing to sit on later, by the fire."

Hickory nodded, dropping his rocks where John had gestured. "This whole campin' for fun thing is turnin' out to be a lot like campin' for survival," he noted, arching an amused eyebrow at John who snorted and trotted back over to the tent.

"Set up is always a pain. Same with take down. But all of the in between is great," John shot Hickory a charming smile, completely unaware of how it made the ex-bunty hunters heart flutter, before crouching down to hammer in the tent pegs. "Just you wait!"

"Sounds like a plan," Hickory muttered, though he very much doubted he was heard over the sound of the hammer. Which was probably for the best, as he had to shake himself out of staring after the teal troll once again.

In relative short order, Hickory set up his little circle of rocks while John finished up with the tent pegs. He then shoved his way through the brush surrounding the clearing to see about gathering up some wood for the fire they would be building when they got back from swimming. He deposited his selection of twigs, sticks and bark next to his rock circle once he figured he had enough for the night, just as John finished tying off a large tarp above where he'd finished setting up the tent.

"Y'all set?" Hickory asked, trotting up to John as the teal troll wiped his brow with the back of his hand, dislodging his goggles so they sat askew on his head.

"I think so. We're looking pretty good!" John chirped, grinning up at Hickory.

"I'd say so," Hickory agreed easily with a quiet little laugh, reaching out to fix John's crooked goggles. John looked startled by the gesture, Hickory barely catching a glimpse of a dark flush creeping over John's cheeks before the teal troll turned away from him once his hands dropped away. He took a quick step back, watching as John swiftly moved across the campsite to dig into his bag. Intrigued by the reaction, Hickory made a mental note about it for later.

"Did you bring your trunks?" John's voice snapped Hickory back to reality.

"Pretty sure," Hickory hummed, shuffling over to his bag to dig into it and pull out his swim shorts.

"Great! Then get changed, and we'll head down to the water," John said, staring at Hickory expectantly.

Hickory stared right back, slowly arching an eyebrow at the teal troll. "You gonna stare at me the whole time I'm changin', or just for the first little bit?" He snorted quietly as John's face lit up as he turned on his heel to face away from Hickory. The ex-bounty hunter shook his head with a quiet laugh, setting his hat aside and quickly changing into his swim trunks. He then dug into his bag and pulled out the beach towel he'd packed, draping it over his shoulders as he cleared his throat. "All set. You gonna change, too?"

"Nah," John hummed, glancing at Hickory over his shoulder, though he did pull off his goggles and glove to toss them into the tent. "I'm just gonna go as is. These shorts are already sweaty and dirty, may as well sorta wash 'em by swimming with them on."

"All right," Hickory chuckled, stepping up next to John, "Lead the way, then."

And so John did, after grabbing his own towel from his belongings. The path down to the lake was relatively short and straight forward, but John seemed to take pride in leading Hickory around, so he diligently followed along with an indulgent smile on his face. The lake itself was relatively small, as John had already mentioned, but that didn't make it any less picturesque than the rest of the Neverglades had been thus far. The shores were soft slopes of jutting rock and densely packed dirt, surrounded by drooping trees with their branches and leaves barely grazing the water, causing little ripples every time the wind blew. Early evening sunlight was dappled across the surface of the lake, making it sparkle.

"My," Hickory breathed, almost feeling like he shouldn't be there. Like he was intruding on sacred ground.

"It's real pretty, isn't it?" John hummed quietly next to him, "Almost makes you not want to swim."

Hickory opened his mouth to agree with the sentiment, only to jump slightly as John let out a whoop of a shout while tossing his towel aside, before running towards the water. Hickory couldn't contain his laughter as John jumped from the shore as he reached the waters edge, canon balling into the lake with a large splash.

"Well, that's one way to do it, I s'pose," Hickory chuckled to himself, tossing his towel next to John's. He let out a shout of his own once John surfaced further out into the lake, running and tossing himself into the water with gusto. He surfaced to the sound of John's laughter, followed shortly by a splash of water to the face. "Hey now," he laughed, returning the splash blindly, figuring he'd hit his target based on the sound of John sputtering. He wiped water from his face and grinned at finding John coughing and blinking water from his eyes. "That's what ya get for tryin' a sneak attack," Hickory stated, self satisfied smirk on his face.

"I'll show you sneak attack," John grumbled to himself, before launching himself through the water at Hickory with a yell. Hickory let out a startled shout in response, flailing rather uselessly in the water before John tackled him around the chest and dragged him under the surface.

The two tussled in the water like that for some time, with John using any means necessary to try and catch Hickory off guard as they swam back and forth across the lake, waging war with sweeping splashes. Hickory finally called it quits when John tried to use a handful of slimy lake weeds to retaliate against Hickory for managing to dunk him underwater.

"All right, I'm think I'm done," the country troll sighed, pulling an especially long piece of weed from his hair and tossing it aside.

"Aww, but we haven't even been out here that long," John practically pouted, earning a fond smile form Hickory.

"Never said we had to go back. Just that I think the war is over," Hickory hummed, kicking his feet off the bottom of the lake to float on his back. He watched John continue to pout for a minute out of the corner of his eye, before the teal troll began to swim towards the shore. "Where are ya goin'?" he called, turning to tread water with a small frown on his face.

"If you're done," John called back, walking up onto the shore, running fingers through his water logged locks, "I'm gonna work on my canon balls."

Hickory was quite certain that John had no idea the kind of sight he made as he trotted along the lakeside, looking for a good spot to use as a pseudo-diving board. He kept absently running his fingers though his hair, which supplied a steady supply of water droplets that cascaded down over his torso, which Hickory had to fight with every fiber of his being not to watch as they made their way down to the ground. The country troll had never been so happy to be submerged in water as he was just then, letting himself sink so his nose was barely above the surface as he watched John Dory pause at a particularly large rock and nod to himself. The teal troll climbed up onto it and shot Hickory a winning grin once he was at the top, waving enthusiastically, before letting out a bellow and tossing himself into the water. He was completely, stupidly endearing and Hickory knew that if he didn't say something by the end of this trip, he might just go insane.

John continued his cycle of climbing out of the water and jumping enthusiastically back in for some time, Hickory not even noticing that the sun had began to set with how enraptured he was with watching. That was, until the teal troll finally scooped his towel up from the ground instead of running off to his chosen diving rock.

"Hey, it's getting late," John called out to him, gesturing that he should swim to shore, "We should probably go get started on the fire and make some dinner."

"Oh! Right. Dinner," Hickory muttered to himself, before he began to swim back to shore, shivering as he climbed out of the water and a cool breeze swept across the lake.

"C'mon. We'll get a nice big fire going, and get you toasty warm," John said with an easy smile, handing Hickory his towel.

Hickory bit his tongue to keep himself from saying something stupid like 'Or you could warm me up', and instead murmured a quiet thanks as he took his towel and rubbed at his sopping hair.

"I brought some classic camping food," John hummed as he began to lead the way back up to their campsite, Hickory hot on his heels, "Hotdogs to roast over the fire, and marshtatoes for later!"

"Sounds swell," Hickory said with a little nod, draping his towel over his shoulders as they reached the campsite. "By the by, where did ya say that stick was? The one we could use as a bench near the fire?"

"Right! We should move that first," John said as he snapped his fingers, and pointed towards a patch of grass near the tent.

Moving the stick was only a small struggle when they discovered it was actually much larger than they had anticipated, as part of it was buried in the dirt. Luckily, what Hickory lacked in tenting supplies, he made up for in random assorted other items that John, apparently, neglected to bring along. Such as a hatchet. He made rather quick work of hacking into the stick and cutting off the portion John had indicated would make good seating, and if he happened to flex a bit more than he normally would because he caught John watching out of the corner of his eye, well, who could blame him?

The two of them managed to drag the end of the stick over to the little circle of rocks without much trouble after that, and Hickory promptly dropped himself onto it once it was settled where John thought would be the best spot.

"Gonna need to go for another swim, after that," the ex-bounty hunter joked, kicking his feet out in front of himself as John crouched next to the rocks and began to set up the bits of bark Hickory had gathered.

"If there are enough glow flies in the area we can go for a night swim, if you want," John muttered, half distracted as he struck a match and lit the kindling he'd set up. Gently, he blew into the small pile of bark and twigs until the flames began to grow, a proud little smile on his face as he slowly fed twigs into it until it was large enough that he could put a couple of the larger sticks on. Once it seemed like he thought the fire wouldn't need to be babied further he stood with a pop of his knees and a crack of his back, a low groan leaving him as Hickory winced in sympathy.

"That sounded like it hurt," Hickory commented idly as John dropped onto the stick next to him with a grunt.

"Don't get old," John joked, laughing as Hickory shoved him lightly.

"I'll remind ya, since yer memory's apparently goin', that I'm only a few years younger than ya. Yer knees ain't the only ones that make noise when ya stand up," Hickory said as he rolled his eyes. "Anyhow, d'ya really reckon we could go swimmin' at night? Y'don't think that'd be dangerous, with all the critters roamin' around?"

John shrugged, watching the flames as their fire slowly grew. "I mean, I don't see why not. Like I said, there just needs to be enough glow flies so we can see. The stars out here are pretty bright, but it's better if there are glow flies. They're a really good, obvious, first alert system if something is close by."

"Cause they'll fly away," Hickory hummed with a nod, "Smart."

"Yeah. It's something my dad taught me, a long time ago," John sighed wistfully, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees, his gaze distant. Hickory took that as his queue to go and fetch the hotdogs from John's bag, as well as grabbing a couple of sticks from their little stash to spear the hotdogs with.

"Here," Hickory gently nudged John in the shoulder with his own, offering the teal troll one of the sharpened sticks as John visibly blinked himself back into reality.

"Oh! Thanks," John chuckled, gingerly taking the stick from Hickory, "Sorry. Sort of zoned out there. Didn't mean to get so lost in thought."

"It's alright," Hickory said with a small shrug, cutting open the package of hotdogs to spear one on the end of his stick, "Happens to the best of us. Mind if I ask what ya were thinkin' 'about?"

"Just family junk," John offered with a little shrug of his shoulders, taking a hotdog of his own and stabbing it a bit more violently than strictly necessary.

"I assume 'bout yer dad?"

John clicked his tongue, a wry little smile turning the corner of his lips. "Yeah. A bit. More about my brothers, though, I guess. I never did this with any of them," he gestured vaguely at their campsite. "I got to go camping once with my dad, and he taught me loads. But none of my brothers got to. And then things just sort of got crazy out of hand, and I never got to take any of them." He paused, sitting up and shooting Hickory an apologetic smile. "Sorry. This is supposed to be a fun trip, you don't need me babbling about family drama."

"I don't mind," Hickory reassured, gently resting his free hand on John's elbow, "Don't got much family, myself, aside from my older brother, an' that's a whole can a' worms on it's own…But, I don't mind hearin' 'bout other folks family. If ya need someone with a willin' ear, I'm always here."

John turned his head to look at Hickory, his gaze almost searching as his brow furrowed slightly. "That means a lot," he murmured, shifting so he could take the hand on his elbow into his own, entwining their fingers together. "I really…I really like talking to you, Hickory. I know we haven't known each other that long, but you mean a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me, too, Johnny."

John seemed to think for a moment, watching Hickory intently, before he leaned down to prop his stick between two of the rocks around their fire. He then took Hickory's and did the same with it, before turning sideways on their make-shift bench and taking Hickory's hands in his own. He visibly swallowed, thumbs brushing the backs of Hickory's hands, which sent little shivers up the country's trolls spine.

"You okay, John?" Hickory asked, leaning forward slightly with a concerned frown.

"Can I kiss you?"

It was said so quietly Hickory thought, perhaps, he was hearing things. "Pardon?"

John flushed, his ears drooping slightly as he gave Hickory's hands a little squeeze. "Can I kiss you?" he repeated a little louder, gaze fixed on their hands. "I might've been reading you wrong, but I think…I think you want to kiss me, too? It's okay, if you don't. I won't be offended, and we can pretend this never happened, I just…" He lifted his gaze, letting out a little breath, "I really want to kiss you."

"John Dory," Hickory stated, tugging John's hands closer so the teal troll was forced to lean further towards him, "If ya don't kiss me right this instant, I will be madder than a wet hen."

"Can't have that," John chuckled, before tilting his head and pressing his lips to Hickory's.

It was like pop rocks were poured down Hickory's spine, little tingles igniting what felt like every nerve ending as John shifted closer on their little bench so he could kiss the country troll more deeply. Their hands parted from each other, only to slide into hair and cling to shoulders, earning little shivers and soft sighs each time their lips parted for a moment for air.

"C'mon," John breathed after a time that Hickory's mind could hardly fathom, though the world was distinctly darker than it was before he got lost in John's lips. John stood, a hand outstretched towards Hickory in offering.

Hickory took it without hesitation, letting John lead him to their tent, anticipation twisting in his gut, their dinner and plans of swimming long forgotten.

When Hickory woke the next morning, it was to a tent distinctly devoid of John Dory. Groggily, he rubbed at his face as he sat up and looked around, finding what he assumed was John's silhouette on the outside of the tent, puttering around their campsite. He grunted as he shoved away the blankets he'd gotten tangled up in during the night and somehow managed to locate his pants and belt, tugging them on quickly before he stumbled into the morning light.

"Good morning!" John's voice was chipper and loud, making Hickory cringe slightly as he finger combed his hair.

"Mornin'," the country troll drawled, squinting against the sun until he found his hat and tugged it on, letting out a contented little sigh. He turned to find John Dory hovering over the fire, poking at what appeared to be eggs cooking on top of a flat stone. "Yer up mighty early."

"Habit," John said with a shrug, "Once the sun is up, I'm up."

"Disgusting," Hickory snorted, earning a light laugh from John.

"Yeah, well, can't be helped," John hummed, grabbed a large leaf and scooping one of the eggs from the stone onto it with a knife. "Forgot to bring plates, so you're going to have to deal with eating off a leaf with your fingers."

Hickory took the leaf happily, trotting over to their stick bench and sitting down. "I think I can live with that."

"Good, 'cause there wasn't much in terms of other options," John snorted, taking up his own leaf and egg before knocking the flat rock off the fire and walking over to the stick to sit as well.

They ate their breakfast quietly, John staring off into the fire, while Hickory let his eyes drift shut, smiling slightly to himself as he let the early morning sounds of the forest wash over him. He felt peaceful and calm, a warm little ember in his chest growing steadily at the knowledge that the troll his heart chose to beat wildly for was sat next to him and felt the same. Or, so he assumed.

"Hickory," John's quiet but serious tone shattered the tranquility of the forest, and drew Hickory from his revere. He blinked and turned his gaze towards John, who was still staring intently into the fire.

"What is it?"

"About last night…"

Hickory frowned, his posture stiffening at the words John spoke. He had to force his fingers to not tremble around the leaf he held. "What about it?"

"It doesn't-…Look, I know I dragged you all the way out here, and I'm your only way home, so just in case," John rambled, speaking without taking a breath, "It doesn't have to mean anything. We don't…If you felt obligated, I'm sorry. We can pretend nothing happened and go home right now, if you want."

Hickory stared John down, absentmindedly crushing the leaf in his hands. "Ya think I'd feel obligated to sleep with ya, just because we're out in the woods?"

"I mean," John flushed, looking up at Hickory, anxiety clear as day on his face, "…maybe?"

"I would sooner stab any troll that tried somethin' that I didn't want, then go willingly off to their tent," Hickory practically growled, before taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, listening as John shifted and squirmed on the stick next to him. "I ain't mad," he said after a beat, letting out another breath.

"You sound like it."

"Only 'cause you implied I was easy."

"Sorry."

Hickory opened his eyes, taking one last deep breath in, before turning his gaze to John once again, arching an eyebrow at finding the teal troll practically curled in on himself in his seat. "This been buggin' ya for a while?"

"I couldn't sleep," John admitted, and upon closer inspection Hickory could see the bags under John's eyes.

Hickory sighed quietly, letting his irritation slowly seep out of him. He reached out, his heart twisting as John flinched slightly at the movement. "I ain't gonna hurt you," he reassured, gently taking one of John's hands in his own, "I'd never hurt ya. John…I was so happy, last night, when ya said ya wanted to kiss me. I've been wantin' to do that for quite a while. Just didn't quite know how to go about sayin' anythin'. I like you, John Dory. A whole lot."

John's posture loosened as Hickory spoke, his hunched position straightening as he unconsciously leaned in towards the country troll. "Really?" he breathed, and Hickory could almost describe his expression as being starstruck.

"I don't have a tendency to say things I don't mean."

Hickory let a crooked little smile settle on his face as John slowly shifted closer to him, turning slightly so he could wrap both of his hands around Hickory's. "I'm so sorry. For thinking I'd taken advantage of you. For implying you would do anything you didn't feel comfortable with. I just thought that, if you didn't want it, or felt bad for me or something-"

Hickory cut him off with a snort of a laugh, shaking his head slightly. "Why on this green earth do you think I would feel bad for ya?"

John blinked, tilting his head slightly. "Uh…'cause I'm a washed up ex-boyband member with a laundry list of family trauma issues and no friends?"

"Who's also mighty handsome, talented, a skilled survivalist, and who seems to be completely blind to the admirers that watch 'im every time he goes to the market?"

"…You think I'm handsome?"

"Not the take away ya should be focusing on here, Johnny," Hickory snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry. Go on."

Hickory chuckled, cupping John's cheek in his free hand. "You think pretty little of yerself, an' that's a real shame. I wish ya could see yerself the way I do."

"And how's that?"

"Like a shootin' star in the night sky. So beautiful an' bright, but burnin' out so fast most folks can't appreciate ya for yer true magnificence," Hickory hummed, enjoying the way John's cheeks darkened, just before he gently tugged the teal troll into a kiss.

They parted with a quiet gasp between the two of them, John looking a bit dazed.

"So…you're my boyfriend now, right?" John asked bluntly after a beat, earning a surprised burst of laughter from Hickory.

"You bet yer bottom dollar, playboy."

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls world tour #trolls hickory #trolls john dory #hickdory #trolls fanfic #things that i wrote

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obislittleone · 1 year ago

Text

Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me

Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader

A/n: Listen… I don’t have any excuse for ditching my other three active series except for tiktok made me do it… That, and the CLM series by @macfrog has ascended me to a new level of crazy and I just needed an outlet for it somewhere. Another shoutout to @theatrelove3000 who keeps putting up with my dbf joel shenanigans, they are indeed insane.

Warnings: girl this whole concept should be a warning but anyways… age gap, some fluff, light smut, uncomfortable situations with readers father… probably some editing mistakes bc ya girl is tired ok its 2am

Please be kind to this chapter, I actually like it, despite the horrors.

Decided on the song ‘Mary On A Cross‘ by Ghost for this one bc it fits ig.

MASTERLIST

Age gap is approximately 15 years or so, reader is over 21 and joel is about 37

"I think I'd probably only slow'ya down," you chuckled, looking to Sarah who seemed to read the displeasure off your face from your dad's offer. "I'm studyin' to be an archeologist, dad. I don't know nothin' about framin' and all that house buildin'..."

Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.

"You could work on interior stuff with me."

It had been almost three days.

You looked out the window to the front of your house repeatedly to try and remember it clearly. The drive home, the kiss, and how abruptly it ended with a promise to see each other around. You thought about it so often you almost wondered if it happened the way you perceived it, if any details had been skewed in your mind simply because you wanted to keep it there, fresh, untouched. Maybe he thought of it differently... but maybe he didn't.

"Did you bring home the stuff I asked ya?" Your dad came into the kitchen with a smile, embracing you with a side hug and turning to help you unpack the groceries.

"Course' I did, Pa," you handed him the bag with the six-pack of bud and the other one full of snacks.

It was the first Rangers game night, and as per tradition, that meant the company of the next-door neighbors. It had been a while since you'd been around to enjoy it, but now that you were back, there were quite a few more reasons why you were on edge to now participate. It would look weird if you came up with an excuse not to be there, and you knew that. You also knrw that you'd gotten into a rather complicated entanglement with your father's closest friend, and weren't sure what the outcome really was.

Had that driveway light not spooked you both apart, and had that little black stray cat not made an appearance, how far would it have gone? Things were pretty heated, but even still. Would he have said something? Maybe along the lines of 'I've known you since you were sixteen, and this isn't appropriate at all.'

You didn't have time to think about it, you were set to work on helping your dad cook dinner for the soon-arriving neighbors. Dinner and a baseball game, once a relaxing and enjoyable time to bond with your dad, now turned into an anxiety fest where you were convinced you'd have to walk on pins and needles around every topic.

"So," your dad piped up from his silence at the stove, stirring the pot of chili he'd been prepping. "Joel told me he gave you a ride 'few nights back."

You knew it was harmless, and that he wasn't asking for any reason, other than that he was probably curious. You hadn't seen Joel in a while, not since two Christmases ago. Your dad had driven up to Dallas to spend both Thanksgiving and Christmas with you last year, and you didn't come home for summer break given an internship opportunity. You must have seemed different to the man in some way. All grown up.

"Yeah, gave me a ride n' saved me at the bar," you chuckled, trying to seem playful and unsuspicious about the encounter.

He seemed to be confused, his brows furrowed and a funny look on his face.

"Whad'ya mean he saved ya?" he of course was continuing to speak all the while dumping his favorite spices into the pot of chili, looking across here and now to keep engaged.

"Just scared off some weirdo who couldn't take no for an answer," you let a sweet and genuine smile fall across your features, but didn't let it get out of hand. Your relationship with your father was airtight, and he could read you pretty damn well. You weren't going to give anything away, not with what was potentially on the line.

"Glad he was there," he replied with a chuckle, sending you a soft glance. "Never thought you'd have grown up so fast, now I gotta carry a shotgun whenever we go places. Fend off the wild beasts."

His jokes were only so funny now, because in this situation, you knew he wouldn't hesitate to shoot Joel if he found out what had happened. All in the nature of protecting you, but it made you sad to think of the situation that way. Joel wasn't just another weirdo following you around at a bar.

"It's only because I'm so pretty," you did your best to respond lightheartedly, making a quip that would soothe the silence. "And I believe that's yours and Mama's fault, givin' me the genes and what not."

You'd finished chopping a nice garden salad by the time the doorbell rang. You ran upstairs to change your shirt to the Jersey your dad bought you for your birthday, claiming it was good luck for the team. Truth be told, you didn't wanna be downstairs when Joel and Sarah got here.

Sarah was here, too. Her, you could easily handle. You were almost hoping that she would be in a rather talkative mood, that way the attention could be swayed to her inconspicuously. You doubted Joel would even try to talk to you, anyway.

"Lovebug, come on down, Millers are here!" Your dad shouted up, even though he saw you run upstairs right when the doorbell rang to change your shirt.

"I'm comin', hold on," you replied sassily while heading for the staircase.

You got to the bottom and had to take a breath before turning the corner into the entryway. Joel stood there with a sweet smile to you, and you tried your best to hold back the one you wore. It was too bright, too happy to see him. All despite your nerves.

You were quickly embraced by Sarah, whom you paid immediate attention to.

"My lordy, girl," you held up your hand by your shoulder to show the height difference, "last time I saw you, you must've been this tall."

"Dad tells me I'm growing like a weed," she tossed a finger over her shoulder to where he was standing, and you gave him a small glance and a smile.

"Us daughters do have a tendency to grow up," you laughed, slinging an arm around Sarah and pulling her along to the kitchen as your dad and Joel did the same behind you.

Why had you been so anxious? Joel is happy to see you. He makes causal conversation with your dad, but he catches your eye every chance he gets. His expression doesn't change, except for the tug of his lips in a smile that's barely there. Joel doesn't smile too often, except apparently when you and Sarah are around.

It doesn't take long for everyone to get situated with their food at the table, playful banter between Joel and your father filling the air as you made less rambunctious chatter with Sarah.

She's doing pretty well since last you saw her. She was always a bright girl, but as she grew it became more apparent that she would probably excel further than anyone in her graduating class. You were sitting across from a future valedictorian, you were sure.

You'd tried to ask her about her out of school interests before your dad interrupted with a question.

"How about you, lovebug?" He watched your eyes flick over to him with a turn of your head. He added context, given you hadn't been listening to them earlier. "Are you gonna look for a summer job?"

You really should, if you're being honest. There's not much work in your aspiring profession located here, but you weren't as lucrative as you used to be, given your educational expenses.

"I've thought about it," you tilted your head back and forth, and your dad seemed to need more from your answer. "I need to earn some cash before I get back to Dallas, but I'm not really sure where to apply."

Sarah seemed to know where this was going before you did. She'd been around the last time your dad was begging Joel to find some help for the contracting team they worked with. But surely your dad doesn't expect you to build houses, does he? Your dream job is to dig holes in the ground, not fill them in and put homes on top.

"We got some spaces to fill, you should come work with us 'few months. The pay's good and you don't have to stay on long, probably just till the end of July."

You gave him a look, and he instantly knew you weren't interested, but you figured you'd try and justify your reasoning. It was an argument either way.

Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.

"You could work on interior stuff with me."

Did he just-?

"S'not much more fun than what your dad's been doin,' but at least it's out of the sun, and easier to learn."

You were almost dumbfounded. Your dad offering you a job that potentially could give you heat stroke with your lack of experience seemed like the worst idea in the world... but working on interior projects? With Joel of all people? Well, that didn't sound so bad.

You didn't want your dad to catch on, of course. Being so protestant of his suggestion, but then falling right into it as soon as Joel was the one to offer would be a dead giveaway to some sort of favoritism to his best buddy. It simply wouldn't look right.

"What kinda interior stuff?"

He smirked. The motherfucker was smirking. He knew you'd changed your mind, but couldn't exactly just come out with it. He understood, but it was still slightly amusing to him.

"Flooring, cabinets, countertops... 's things like that," he explained, knowing you really didn't care what all it entailed. He was still happy to play along. "S'not as fun as archeology, but it pays alright."

You nodded, acting as though you were turning the thoughts over in your head.

"Well, if you're sure I won't mess it up, I'd be happy to try it out," was your final response. You figured it left some leeway in case your father became suspicious, but gave a good enough answer to end the conversation on.

"That's my girl," your dad clapped a hand on your shoulder in excitement. Truth be told he would very much enjoy your presence on a work site. "I'll go ahead and call Eddie in the morning, let 'im know I found someone to replace Charlie for interiors."

It was said more to Joel, you figured, because you didn't really know who either of those people were. He'd nodded to your dad, taking a sip of his beer and then looking back to you. You smiled sweetly, nobody catching it but the one it was meant for.

"Game's gonna start soon," Joel spoke aloud, drawing everyone's eye to the clock over the stove.

Sarah cleared her throat before jumping in on the conversation.

"About that," she looked to her dad with the same puppy dog eyes she used to use against you. He was just as poor at saying no to her when she pulled those bad boys out. "Sammy texted me to ask if it's okay to stay over at her place tonight?"

Joel sighed. He knew that no matter the attempts he made for her to like baseball, it wasn't her thing. It was summer vacation, and he had no reason to say no, so he didn't.

"Is she coming to pick you up?" He began, fishing his keys out of his pocket to drive her if need be. The girl lived five minutes away, he'd be back only a few minutes after the game started, but he didn't really want to leave.

"I can ask her," she pulled her phone back out of her jeans, opened her screen, and checked her messages.

"No need, I can take you," your voice rang out, standing from the table and taking your bowl to the sink. It was a genuine offer, but it was also to get out of the house and process what just happened with the job situation.

Joel was the first one to stand up with you.

"You don't have to-"

"It's fine," you cut him off, leaving no room for discussion. It was lucky he liked you, otherwise, Joel Miller might have put up quite the argument for such a small dilemma. As was his way, of course. He huffed, but accepted he had been overruled.

"Thanks, then." It was mumbled, but there was gratitude in it.

"We gotta hop over to ours real quick and grab my stuff," Sarah told you, waiting for you to return from the kitchen before beginning to head out through the front door. You'd grabbed your keys off where they hung on the wall before going behind her.

"I'll be back soon," you called over your shoulder into the house, and got a chirped 'alright' reply from your dad.

You walked out passed your driveway, seeing the light flicker on as you both went passed the censor on the ground.

"Y'know, I didn't think you'd have caved so fast on that job thing." She had piped up once you were almost to her porch. You found it only slightly funny that she chose the exact topic which had been swirling in your mind since it happened.

"Not sure I really wanna do it, but your dad made it sound better than every time my dad's talked about it, guess he just convinced me," you chuckled, playing it off in a way that she absolutely was about to use against you.

"That's another thing," she turned to you as she backed into the house through the door, only turning once she was inside. "Since when are you friends with my dad?"

She said it in a joking tone, but having known a few things she didn't about interactions that occurred between you and her father, you felt constricted to answer seriously. Probably with a lie if need be.

"I've always gotten along with your dad," you gave her a confused look, accompanied after by a playful smile.

She grabbed her backpack and opened it, checking to make sure she'd taken all the school stuff out before starting to shove things in, her charger, headphones, etc.

"Yeah but... you're just all young and cool and stuff," she shrugged, turning around to walk towards the staircase. "My dad is all old and boring and only talks about baseball."

"Thirty-seven isn't old, babe. My dad is two years from fifty, and I don't even think he's old, yet. Boring? Maybe..." you reasoned, hearing her laugh before she sprinted up the stairs, giving you time to think of some answers before she asked any more questions. Had she really caught onto you that fast? You didn't think you'd acted noticeably. If Sarah was able to see it, then maybe your dad did, too. You needed to be more careful, in that case.

Sarah returned a few minutes later, her backpack now stuffed and her pillow under her arm. You nodded out the door and headed back to your driveway to open the door for her, seeing as though her hands were full.

The drive after Sarah had been dropped off felt so much longer. Maybe it was just your thoughts, or maybe you consciously drove slower to avoid getting home too quickly. Your dad was waiting, but above that, Joel was there, too. Probably sitting back on the leather couch, relaxing with his feet kicked out on the floor. He usually leaned onto the armrest with his elbow, and held his face against the hand it supported. You'd noticed it years ago. He only ever spoke up when your dad did, usually in reply to him.

He was content simply watching the game in the presence of a friend. It was endearing.

When you pulled into the driveway, you had come up with an excuse to not remain downstairs for the duration of the game. It was too risky, and you weren't apparently as good with self-control as you'd thought you were.

You went inside and hung up your keys on the hook, immediately passing the living room on the way to the stairs.

"Hey, lovebug, you missed the top of the first," your dad called. He knew you liked baseball, so if you were to lie and say you didn't want to watch, he'd know something was up.

"Y'know, pa, I think I'm just gonna watch it upstairs, I forgot I still got some stuff to unpack," you peaked your head into the room to respond, and saw that Joel, just as you had pictured, was sitting in his most usual position on the couch, feet out on the floor, arm up with a hand holding the side of his face.

"Can't you do it later?" Your dad pleaded, but you knew, seeing as how your father occupied the recliner, you would have no where else to sit but on the floor or next to Joel. You didn't trust yourself with that.

"I could, but I might fall asleep if I wait too long."

He sighed, throwing an arm in your direction and shooing you away. He wasn't annoyed, but he'd admit he missed watching these games with you. It had been like a tradition, but if Sarah wasn't here either, he wasn't gonna make you stick around.

"Sure you don't wanna stick around? We could use your lucky jersey down here," Joel piped up, lifting his face from his hand and giving you a pair of soft eyes. That was exactly the reason you would not be staying. He didn't even realize how much he affected you, but you'd make sure he did at some point. Maybe you could just tease him a little.

"You're right, it would be a shame to take the lucky jersey with me."

You walked behind your dad's chair, out of his sight, and tauntingly stripped the jersey over your head, revealing the tight black tank top beneath it, just like that night at the bar. Joel's jaw clenched and his eyes turned darker, even under the bright light of the flatscreen in the living room. You never took your eyes away from his as you slung him the jersey.

"Hey pa, can I get you anything from the kitchen before I go upstairs?" You leaned over the back of his recliner, looking at him upside down. He chuckled and shook his head, trying to move your hair from obstructing his vision.

"We're all good, lovebug," he spoke in addition to his physical response, his laughter dying down as you stood back up. "Come on down if you change your mind."

"I'll probably be down later," you spewed a half-lie. You weren't sure if you would be or not, especially if Joel was still lurking in the living room.

You gave those brown eyes one last look before heading straight upstairs.

You grabbed your remote and flicked on the TV. It was already on the right channel, so you tossed the remote aside onto your bed and flopped back into it. You didn’t actually have anything left to unpack, but they would never have known.

Your phone buzzed beside you, and you lifted the screen to your face to see a text from an unsaved number:

Missin you down here…

You’d never put Joel in your contacts, because in highschool, your friends thought it was weird to even text or call him regularly, but you had his number for years, always just as a backup. You’d known it by heart, now, and nearly had it memorized back then, too, for the times you needed his help.

I’d come back if there was an open seat.

A bit sassy of a response, maybe, but you were hoping he’d understand the hidden meaning behind it… Although, Joel didn’t usually pick up on those things very easily.

Open seat right next to me

Yeah, that’s why I’m up here…

You huffed, realizing it wouldn’t be that easy. The three little dots indicating his next response was on the way slightly nerved you. Maybe he took the last text you sent the wrong way. You didn’t mean it to sound badly.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Means that I can’t keep my hands to myself.

You quickly rectified the situation, although you might have gone too far. He was taking far too long to answer, now. The little dots that before nerved you would now be your saving grace if it meant he would just fucking respond, already. You dropped the phone on your chest, raising up and down in a scattered rhythm while you wiped your hands over your face. Your phone vibrated over your shirt and you immediately opened it.

I can’t either. Stay up there.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. He was thinking the same things you were, and likely was under more stress for it, given he sat right across from your dad, responding to his comments about the game here and there. Your dad had no idea what was happening right under his nose.

Wasn’t thinking about leavin.

This little back and forth went on, the majority of the game, in fact. It was more-so about the plays then on, because you didn’t have anyone to talk to up here.

Joel thought it a bit funny, your dad would say something oddly specific about one of the players, and then you’d text him right after saying the exact same thing. You’d been a product of watching baseball with your old man for just about ever.

“I’m thinking about gettin’ some tickets over the summer for a game or two. They’re always cheaper in them group packages, you n’ Sarah should come along,” your dad was barely paying any attention to the words he spoke, but they came flowing out anyway, clear and cool. “Could be fun.”

Joel knew that there was only so much group interaction he could handle with you, and you with him. It stands to why you’re upstairs, an he’s down here, fist wrapped tightly around your lucky jersey. All out of your father’s sight, of course.

“It could be. Don’t think Sarah’s much for baseball anymore, though.”

He’d hoped that your dad would drop it. Halfway through his third beer, he hoped the man was a little more than tipsy, and maybe didn’t even mean the words he was saying.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t still tag along,” your dad was definitely still sober enough to keep it up, although the way he spoke became slower. Maybe he was getting sleepy.

“I’ll think about it.”

His response was followed by a hum, then a lull of silence that endured the rest of the game. He sat all the while and thought about his predicament a bit more.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was insane… like you’d leeched yourself to the inner workings of his mind and he wouldn’t be able to pull you off without hurting himself, too. You were just upstairs, and had been texting him. You were within his vicinity, and yet… so unreachable.

He’d wished for you to be down here, or for him to be up there with you. Obviously, that wouldn’t go too well with the man sitting next to him, but he’d be asleep soon. If he could just touch you again, just kiss you one more time, maybe his cravings would be satisfied and he could go about his days… but what would happen if he kept feeling the addictive urge to do more? What if he was never satiated enough to quit you?

The game was called, and you’d texted him a small ‘victory’ at seeing the Rangers had won.

It was wrong, and the presence of his friend beside him was a constant reminder that you were his kid, and he would have a final say. Even though you were an adult, he understood this was completely taboo, and you should be off with guys your own age... but he’s made up his mind about the thoughts spinning in his head.

He didn’t respond, though. Your dad stood up out of his chair, his arms stretching outwards with a loud yawn as he took a few steps forwards, clapping his hand down on Joel’s shoulder.

“I hate to kick you out…” your father joked, a low and tired chuckle under his words.

“It’s alright, I got some stuff to sort out anyway.”

They started making their way towards the door when light but fast footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs.

Joel turned quickly, a smile on his lips and in his eyes when he saw you trying to catch your breath after sprinting down here.

“Leavin’ already?”

They both laughed heartily. As if Joel hadn’t been here almost three hours, most of which you spent upstairs. Your heart was beating far too fast for your liking, but there didn’t seem to be a way to stop it. Now that you were present again, in the room with him, you didn’t know what else to do.

“Your dad’s half asleep as it is, if I stay any longer I’ll send ‘im into hibernation,” Joel’s response made you giggle softly, although you withheld most of the laughter, because in all honestly, it wasn’t that funny, and you needed to learn to control yourself.

“He’ll be over next week, we’ll talk about gettin’ you into that job.”

You nodded, turning back to Joel as your dad opened the front door. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t hug him, could you? That’s too much… maybe just wave, or maybe-

He held his hand out… for you to shake it. A hand-shake. Yeah, sure, fine.

You shook it, but he pulled you in half way, tapping your back once and then letting go.

He just bro hugged you. This man just-

He turned and did the same to your dad, giving you one last glimpse as he stepped out the door. Your dad closed it behind him and you were almost clean out of words to say. That had to have been the strangest interaction you’ve had.

“I’m beat, love-bug. I’m gonna head to bed,” he slung an arm around your neck and kissed the top of your head before turning and going down the hall to the stairs. “Don’t be up too late.”

“I won’t, just got a few things to do.”

You waited approximately ten more seconds before running to the garage door, going as quickly and as quietly as you could through to your front yard. Joel was still on his porch when you got out there, but was about to go inside.

You ran out to the sidewalk in font of his house and called out to him, all the while still barefoot.

“Hey Miller,” you crossed your arms, watching him turn around and lean in one direction. “Did you just bro-hug me? Or did I imagine that?”

He stepped closer to the edge of the porch, leaning against one of the wooden beams closest to him.

You slowly walked up to him, tilting your head to side as you observed his stance. he looked rather good. Hair tousled, body adorning a black t-shirt and some dark jeans. He was a sight, even in the dark light of the neighborhood.

“I reckon I oughta’ try again?”

"Seems like the fair thing to do."

“You’re takin’ your sweet time, baby,” he irked, grabbing gently under your elbow and pulling you up onto to porch once you were close enough.

You smiled to him, and wrapped your arms round his neck, over his broad shoulders. He pulled you close, tucking a head into your shoulder. The anxiousness you felt before fell apart, the rapid beating of your heart slowed, because you were comfortable. You felt immense peace in his arms like you’ve never felt before.

He backed away too soon, but still kept you relatively close to him.

“Was that better?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

There was a moment of silence, of contemplation, but it wasn’t stiff, and it wasn’t awkward. It was just there, a nice and pleasant quiet, and you standing still with Joel Miller on his porch.

“You wanna come inside a while?”

Sarah wasn’t home, and wouldn’t be till morning. Your dad was probably passed out in bed by now, leaving the opportunity completely open. You had nothing to lose, no risk to be had.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

He didn’t let you go, he just walked you both backwards until he was able to reach the door, reaching with one hand to open it before stepping slightly to the side to allow you entrance first.

“Ever the gentlemen,” you smiled, walking inside before he followed you in.

“Gotta make up for all that nonsense earlier,” he closed the door, taking your hand and walking to the kitchen. He pulled out a stool at his counter and let your hand fall to your side as he made his way to the fridge.

He pulled out two beers and uncapped them with the tool hanging on the side of his fridge. You think you remember your dad buying it for his birthday one year. You can remember sitting in this exact seat many times before, actually. Never alone, though. Never just you and Joel, and nobody else near.

He slid you one beer an you smiled at him in thanks, taking a sip.

“Last time you had one of these, I didn’t know if you liked it or not,” he gestured to his own bottle, drinking some and setting it down on the counter.

“I don’t know, I think it’s growing on me.”

He looked straight to you, leaning both hands on the edge of the counter. You leaned forward, mimicking his more stern face of features before he said anything else.

“I didn’t wanna say so with your dad around, but you look awful pretty tonight,” he spoke the compliment smoothly, but he had to drop his head after he said it. Seemed that giving you compliments alone in the night was something of a struggle for him, since he was blushing still even when he looked back to you.

“I seem to be feelin’ a lot prettier as of late whenever I’m around you. Think you’re just good for my self esteem,” you paused, leaning back onto the stool to take a drink of your beer. “That, or it's just nice to be complimented by a handsome guy like yourself.”

He didn’t seem to believe you. His scoff was loud and heard immediately after your compliment returned to him.

“You think I’m handsome?”

He’d always thought he was average. Maybe even slightly below. As he got older, that notion grew until he felt that maybe he was beyond trying for a woman on behalf of his looks. Perhaps there were women from time to time that would agree to a date, but there were none since Sarah’s mom who actually stuck around, not until you… but you were different as far as relationships go, because technically, you shouldn’t even be considering one with him.

“Absolutely, I do. Why wouldn’t I?” You were curious, because he was clearly attractive. Maybe you’d spent too much time around the more traditionally preferred young men in dallas, but something about Joel intrigued you that never did with anyone else. Maybe it was the forbidden aspect of what you two were doing, but before that, it was something else. He was rough and rugged, and good looking in a mature way that the boys your age couldn’t mimic if they tried. Those dark brown eyes with little crows feet at the edges every time he smiled were a dead give away to his age, but it was so appealing somehow.

“Don’t know. Guess I’m just old,” he spoke, trying to hide the insecurities that phrasing brought about. He was too old for you, he shouldn’t be sitting here with you you alone and calling you pretty, and yet…

“Maybe that’s a good thing. Too many boys my age are still very immature these days.” And it was very much true. Too young, too immature, and too stupid to see what’s in front of them and really appreciate it. Older men have a tendency to take care of the things they have, because they know that with time they can lose them.

“That so?”

“Mhm.”

“They don’t even realize what their missin’ out on, do they?”

You shook your head in reply. Nope. Not a single one of the younger guys you’ve dated has treated you with the care you know he could. He’s always treated you with care, before… why would that change now?

“They probably figure there’s a million girls linin’ up after me that they can take a shot at,” you raised your eyebrows and drank some more. Maybe it was just a thought of some past experiences, but this beer was tasting better and better to you.

“I pity them,” he said nonchalantly, without really thinking about it.

“Who, the girls? I mean, I kinda feel bad, but other times, I think we all know what we’re getting ourselves into n’ we just try to ignore the red flags.”

It was meant as a joke, but he was being genuinely serious.

“No, the guys. I pity ‘em.”

“Oh, do you?”

“I do,” he nodded, thinking of the right words to say. “They lost you, didn’t they? Biggest mistake of their lives and they didn’t even know. Pity ‘em just for that.”

You didn’t know what to say. You figured the wide smile you wore was doing a fine enough job, but he wasn’t looking like he had anything else to voice yet.

“You think I’m somethin’ special, Joel Miller?”

He set his bottle down on the counter and walked around it to stand right in front of your barstool. He took both your hands and pulled them to his chest, just holding them there and looking to you with the sweetest expression you’ve ever seen from him. He’s so different than what you remember in your earlier years. He used to be so stoic and serious. Sometimes even a little grumpy. Guess time changes things.

“I wouldn’t be gettin’ myself into sum’ this crazy if I thought anything else,” he mumbled it almost, but he definitely meant it. His words rang true in every aspect of the implications they made. This was crazy, it was very unlikely in the first place, but even still, it was happening. Neither of you backed down, neither of you said no.

“If it helps, I happen to think you’re pretty damn special, too.”

He didn’t respond, just leaned closer towards you, nudging his nose against yours, before letting your lips meet in a kiss. it washed rushed and hazy like the last time. It wasn’t forceful or fast or anything of that sort. It was gentle, and it was meaningful. All the years he’d known you, but never like this. You knew this attraction was new, but it was still real. You wondered how many women pined after him over the years, only for you to now gage his attention when clearly no one else did. The man’s been single since Sarah’s mom left, and otherwise, you didn’t know him to be much of a ‘dating around’ kinda guy. Standing here with him, now, you felt such excitement in knowing he’d pursue you, the off limits woman, over anyone else. It was a true victory, or at least you thought so, sitting on a stool in his kitchen while he kissed you softly, his thumbs going over the backs of your hands that still lingered in his.

When the kiss broke, you inhaled deeply, the scent of him so close to you, surrounding you. He was like a warm blanket you just pulled out of the dryer. He was comforting, and soft, and his skin was currently hot to the touch. You could only hope that you had something to do with that.

“Baby,” he breathed, hands letting go of yours and finding a new home at your waist. You left your hands on his chest, feeling his heart rate fluctuating. “Gotta know something before this goes any further…”

You hummed in response, still trying to even your breath intake. He backed away a few inches to be able to look you in the eyes correctly. He’d spent enough time with you in the past to know if you were telling the truth, and he was going to use it just this once to his advantage.

“What we’re doin’, you sure you’re okay with it?” He knew better than to jump into this without clarification. “Don’t want you feelin’ pressured if you’re not.”

“I want this,” you spoke softly, just loud enough that he could hear. “Promise.”

You had thought you’d been the instigator to this, if memory serves you correctly. Even still, you know now that whatever happens, he won’t take it somewhere you don’t want it to go. This show of good faith was something you could put trust in him over. He’s a good one, you always knew that.

And again his lips were on yours, differently this time. It was a bit more hasty and fervent like the first time, but there was still something different from then that you couldn’t quite decipher.

You absent-mindedly opened your legs and he instantly came between them, letting your bodies become flush with one another. His hands ran up and down your sides, every once and a while dipping to your hips and somewhere below on your thighs.

There was a heat between them that you didn’t realize was there until he came so close to touching it. He never actually did, though, and you were both endeared by and upset about it. He was the one making that heat spread, he can’t just leave it there… but he’s testing his limits, and you think it’s respectful that he is.

He doesn’t want to cross any lines… as if this entire entanglement has not already done that. This situation in every sense of the definition, has crossed the line. Him hugging you that tightly on his porch, him inviting you in after dark when it’s only you and him alone, having a beer with some very personal conversation, and now making out with you in his kitchen. They all crossed the line of what should happen between a man and his best friend’s daughter.

“Tell me to stop,” he mumbled against your mouth, almost as if reading your mind. His hand on your thigh drifted between your legs, just barely caressing the heated pool sitting there, waiting for him. It was still very reserved, and you had to buck against his hand for more friction, but at least it was something.

The taste of him somehow made it worse, the feeling growing inside you without an end in sight. The arousal was evident, but you weren’t sure he would be able to do anything about it, yet. You could tell it was weighing on his mind, what was okay for him to do, and what wasn’t. You would beg him if you had to, you just needed more.

He had an idea, one that could allow both of you to explore this dynamic easier, and one that could potentially keep him from overstepping like he was afraid to.

He removed his hands only for a minute, bringing yours up and over his shoulders before he settled his back down below your ass.

“Hold on,” he told you, lifting you from the seat and walking until he got to the living room. From there, he let the space guide him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch. He sat almost abruptly, and when you relaxed your weight onto him, you felt the stirring between his legs as well. You moaned into his mouth at the mere size and feeling of it, beginning to slowly grind down onto him. He encouraged your movements, and used his hands to guide your hips as you went, back and forth, getting into a rhythm.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised, tearing himself away for a moment to expel his breath from his lungs at the new feeling. Your head fell against his, and suddenly it was the movement of your lower half taking you over.

He let his hands move over your body a bit more freely, now, but still careful not to make any harsh movements, or grab in places he felt he shouldn’t linger too long. He knew you wanted this, but something inside him questioned how comfortable you really felt… that was until you started doing the same, roaming his body with your delicate touch, making him feel like the most important man in the world. You could have sworn you marked the exact moment he snapped, rolling his hips upwards into yours shamelessly. It was so deliciously addicting, the feeling of his body pleasing yours, and vice versa. His rough and sturdy hands, though still gentle, ravished any part of you available to him.

The air between you was hot and thick, and you could swear that by breathing it in, you were drawing even more arousal into your body.

The motions kept going until there was a quickening of pace brought on by you both simultaneously. You couldn’t mark a distinction of when it increased, you just knew that the speed you were going wasn’t where you started. All you could think of was that your spend was fast approaching, and you wondered if his was, too.

“Gettin’ close,” you murmured, barely able to get the words out for the moans that slipped passed your lips. “M’gonna…”

He heard you, and understood. Truth be told, he’d started getting hard since that moment on the porch, so this was just nothing but sweet relief to him. He kept on, trying to meet you at your finish.

“Let go , baby.”

You had no qualms about being told twice when it came to him. You gave it up easily, the muscles in your body contracting when you felt the wash of utter ease through every inch of you. He tensed beneath you, but relaxed with a groan of relief right after, and you could feel his length twitch in his jeans.

You just dry-humped Joel Miller on his couch. Like a horny teenager. What the fuck.

The dawn of realization was cut short by his hand softly coercing the back of your neck, bring your lips back for him to claim as he did earlier. Soft, and gentle, no rush, no heat. Just that feeling between you both that started this mess.… and it was indeed a mess.

“You wanna stay over?”

Tags (open):

@justanothersadperson93 @moonchild-warrior @hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof @untamedheart81 @just-someone-broken @joelalorian @xybil @yvonneeeee

If i tagged you wrong, or you want to be taken off at any time, just lmk!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf! joel miller #joel miller age gap #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

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companionjones · 1 year ago

Text

Secret Spot

Pairing: John B Routledge x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Outer Banks

Summary: John B finds an awesome beach spot and wants to show you. What will you two get up to in this secret spot?

Warnings: SMUT, Cursing

*******

"Johnny!" you whisper-yelled as you witnessed John B climb out of your second-story window and down the tree in the backyard.

He smiled up at you once his feet hit the ground. "Come on, Y/n. It's not that hard. I'll catch you if you fall," he promised.

"This secret beach spot better be all it's cracked up to be," you complained as you joined John B on the ground. You brushed off your legs.

John B smiled. "Oh, it is. Now, come on!" He took off in the direction he'd parked the Twinkie.

It took an hour to drive out there, but it was definitely worth it once you made it.

"Okay. I'll give it to you, John B. I'm impressed," you conceded taking in the landscape.

You caught John B looking at you. "Told you," he smirked.

The two of you spent hours on that beach, just talking. At one point, John B went quiet in the middle of a conversation. He was staring out at the ocean.

"You okay?"

He glanced at you. "Yeah. I just can't get my dad out of my head. He's been gone for six months now, and-and I'm starting to think tha-that he'll never come home." He started to get choked up.

"Oh, John."

The two of you had been laying next to each other on your towels. You rolled over so you could cuddle him. You hoped that would bring him some comfort.

John B gladly took you in his arms. He hugged you close. "I don't know where I'd be without you, Y/n."

"You'd be just fine without me." You hoped your words sounded comforting.

John B wasn't having it. "I'm serious. You've been a rock for me for as long as I've known you. No one understands me the way I feel like you do." He hugged you closer. "I really needed this. Can we just stay right here for the afternoon? I just want to be here and hold you."

You would've done anything for that boy. "'Course we can, Johnny."

The next part he said quietly. “You're everything to me."

"What?" You looked up at him.

"You are. You know that, right? There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not thinking 'Hey, what's Y/n doing?' or 'I need Y/n with me right now.' You're the center of my universe, Y/n."

Obviously, you were taken aback. "I...I had no idea you felt that way."

"I know. I've tried to hide my feelings for you. I was afraid of rejection. But I realized that as long as I have you in my life, no matter what, everything will be okay."

You didn't know if he did it purposefully or not, but John B brought his face closer to yours.

With that action, you said the only thing that made sense to you in that moment. "Can I kiss you?"

He didn't say anything, but John B nodded. He brought his head forward a little more, and kissed you.

You had thought getting the feeling of fireworks when kissing someone was a myth. It hadn't been. Your eyebrows raised and you felt your heart beating out of your chest.

Apparently, John B felt the same way. He held the back of your head as he kissed you, and he kept you as close as possible.

You rolled on top of him.

"You sure about this?" he parted from the kiss to look into your eyes and ask.

You nodded. "I want this. Do you?"

John B furrowed his brow. "No, baby. I need this." He kissed you again. "I've never wanted anything so badly."

With that, you and John B got lost in each other. He unclipped your bathing suit top to feel up your breasts, and the two of you helped each other out of your bottoms.

John was in awe of you. "God, you are so beautiful." He leaned up to kiss you.

As your lips were connected, you let yourself down on his hard length. Both of you moaned at the sensation, and you leaning back on your heels.

Without realizing it, you'd given John B a full view of you. Your eyes were still closed, so it surprised you when Johnny leaned forward to kiss between your breasts, intentionally flipping the two of you over so he was on top.

He kissed up your chest and neck, and gave you one kiss on your lips before bracing his arm above you so he could thrust in and out of you, slowly and sensually.

"Oh, John..." Your jaw fell slack.

His forehead met yours. "I know, baby. Just feel me. Let me do all the work."

Despite his words, you put a hand on his hip and started meeting his thrusts. "Fuck me..." you whispered.

John B told you, "I-I don't know how much longer I can last. You feel so good..." He sped up his movements a little.

"God yes, Johnny! Fuck me!" Your voice cried out when he hit a good spot within you. You yanked him closer to you and tangled your fingers in the hair on the back of his head.

John B kissed you again as his face screwed up in pleasure.

For some time, all you could hear was your bodies meeting, the waves crashing, and yours and John's ragged moaning and breathing. Then, your fingernails dug into John B's side as you came. He was right with you. John B thrusted twice as he came and once more to make sure it was all inside you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said as he pulled out of you. "I-I meant to pull out before..."

"I'm on the pill, and I have Plan B at the house," you assured him. "It's alright. I promise."

John B had been kneeling above you, but he then tackled you in a loving kiss.

Once he parted from you, the two of you gazed into each others' eyes.

"I love you, John B," you admitted.

He released a breath. A smile appeared on his face. "I love you too, Y/n. I'll do anything for you, okay? I mean it."

"I'd do anything for you too, baby." You brushed some hair out of his face, then glanced around. "How long have we been out here? It's getting dark. Let's get cleaned up, and head back to your place, yeah?"

The ride back to John B's house was quiet and intimate. John couldn't seem to let go of your hand.

As he threw the Twinkie into park, he asked you, "You're staying the night with me, right?"

"Of course."

John B grinned.

*******

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#john b #john b x reader #john b routledge #john b routledge x reader #outer banks #obx #outer banks x reader #chase stokes #companion jones #secret spot #john b smut #john b x reader smut #john b routledge smut #john b routledge x reader smut #outer banks smut

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lostsoulaltair · 4 months ago

Text

OnS Analysis - Everything connects. The final spiderweb.

Hello everyone. On the last post I updated, I mentioned I'd talk about certain topic regarding the story along how Yuu might actually underestimate Guren and company but at the end of the day, this is merely an analysis and a theory to some extent.

P.S: Analysis are held within a neutral view

First of all, to some degree it was rather special that Yuu was the first to take independent action regarding his fate along what he wanted to achieve, which of course lead to the Shinoa squad take a path on their own as well.

But now. The first point surges

1. The proof of the spiderweb

To begin with, it is evident that we have had several schemers within the OnS Story, those schemers being: Guren, Mahiru, Rigr Stafford, Ferid Bathory and Shikama Doji.

In the LNs of the Resurrection at 19, it is stated that Shikama Doji or Sika Madu was well known for being someone who could command which empires would rise or fall, leading to having control of "Fate" itself. Of course this changed thanks to Rigr Stafford after he made the Ichinose branch split or distance from the Hiragi Family.

But let's get closer to events that affect the characters.

The fateful encounter

The very first element of this spiderweb between Guren, Yuu, Mika, Mahiru and Ferid lies in the very encounter between Yuu and Guren.

At the beginning, the story itself felt like coincidence but further events proved that the whole meeting and arrival of Guren was planned from the get go which is revealed after 109 chapters, leading to chapter 110.

In chapter 110, Mikaela managed to rewind the events that took place when Yuu and him were children, given that their memories were quite the same and his status as a demon allowed him to spot anomalies, he managed to see who were their schemers along realizing that Ferid organized everything so Yuu could leave along making Mikaela turn into a vampire.

Reunion

The next element to the massive spiderweb is the very fact that the reunion between Mikaela and Yuu once they turned 16 was planned very independent from Guren activating the Seraph within Yuu for the first time.

Of course at such time, such point could easily be misleading given that it was more aligned to human experimentation than what Guren truthfully sought.

But what was the real reason?

Correct. Guren needed Yuu to actually erase his humanity given that at the beginning of the story; among the three wielders of black demon series, only Yuu had the special drugs to trigger the Seraph trait. This eventually would lead for Yuu to lose his humanity due to the abuse he gave along finally touching the trumphet.

Within this, it also played the role that given the love Yuu felt and the signs of Yuu's bonds with the Hyakuya Sect, specially with Mikaela; this lead to the first awkward statement from Yuu.

Purpose

The next part that follows up is the fact of the purpose or reason. Guren never lied in the fact that he needed to use Yuu along Mikaela.

The very first time Guren opened on his use for Yuu given that he was the vital piece for the Resurrection was back in chapter 59.

Now, this might feel like a disconnection but actually, it connects to the fact that in chapters 113-114, Guren explained briefly the requirements for the Resurrection but of course, that wasn't the real plan at all.

The beginning of the battle against the First and the birth of Demon Mikaela.

Now, following up with this, Mikaela's transformation as a Demon wasn't just something that was within sight from the First Progenitor but also a plan from Guren and Mahiru. But what was the whole purpose for it?

Truth to be told, there is actually a purpose but just like the other points, it was made from a finite spiderweb as well.

Given that Mikaela was a test subject for carrying the Michaela Trait and the Seraph Trait, he was bound to be special and among the abilities he had, was the fact that in contrast to the other demons, Mikaela was able to see through Yuu's memories into more depth.

And this of course, eventually led to something Mahiru aimed from the get go, since in chapter 110 she suggested they needed to figure out who they were millenia ago.

Back in chapter 120, Yuu and Mikaela finally chose to discover who they were but, the question might pop: If the purpose was for them to see their memories and identities, was there a need to split them?

This connects to the next point.

2.Is Yuu in control of his own fate or is he actually dancing on Guren's palm?

Answering the question in point 1; there is actually a reason as to why Guren, Mahiru and Ferid needed the Squad to split but this is divided in two points.

1. Adquiring the remaining sinful keys.

First of all, way back from old chapters, it was known that there were seven sinful keys, but so far, we were able to see in total 4 within the manga, one being held by Yuu in chapter 139 making them 5, and lastly the mystery of the remaining two as shown in the same chapter.

(Side note: I know that in the LN of the Resurrection we see Mahiru getting one on her neck...though, as to why now there are physically 5 in the current manga, I don't know, perhaps that sinful key Mahiru got had its use or was more akin to a prototype. This is mere speculation)

Given that Shinoa was aware that Guren and Mahiru along the aid of Ferid were pretty much planning things without letting vital information float for the whole squad, and considering the lack of power at that time. Shinoa's squad pretty much stayed like lambs, taking in consideration that Yoichi and Kimizuki never got their Seraph trait exploited like Yuu. This left with the consequence of an umbalanced Squad and any hope of fighting against Guren would be a complete loss.

But given the new events of Shinoa finally analyzing everything that has happened so far along gaining coinfidence, this led for her to finally have a vast amount of power along ensuring her friends and family aren't deceived any longer by fake promises.

Along this, she is aware Ferid is stupidly smart, she was aware that Guren's team made Ferid keep an eye on them hence why she spied on them back in chapter 139; this of course led for her to know that within her squad there are two sinful key sources which of course are Yoichi Saotome and Shiho Kimizuki.

2. Divide and Conquer. Dancing in the palm of Guren

While it's good that Yuu and Mika chose their fate to their own hands; Mika and Yuu are pretty much dividing and conquering but there's one issue here. Which is it?

Correct. He's not the only one using such tactic. The second one using them from the very beginning was Guren's team.

But why?

Back in chapter 130, there was a flashback showing Ferid, Guren and very likely ghost type Mahiru to check the memories of Yuu and Mika, leaving an open ending about such events.

But why do I state they're still dancing to someone's tune?

Given that Guren exploited the nature of Mikaela's distrust towards humanity along having the knowledge of Mahiru of how perceptive he was; Guren knew that if the Squad along Yuu and Mika, there would be a difference in terms of power given that the squad would have played the role of supporters in a real combat.

Hence why instead of making such scenario, the best one was of dividing and conquering while making certain Yuu and Mika would dive into their pasts along ensuring to get one special thing Guren needs. What could it be?

Correct. The three spells and power of the First.

But how can I state this?

This follows up by the nature of the First. He was secretive always evading and making his web to counter possibilities but what he didn't have in sight was the very issue that Guren was one of the few that could go against such flow along the inclusion of Ferid Bathory to such team.

But in order to trigger such massive miracle, they need power of an equivalent force for such miracle.

Yuu and Mika so far have joined with the progenitors but at the same time, those progenitors are the very target of Ferid Bathory. Quite ironic isn't it?

At the end, it is possible that a decisive battle between Guren and Yuu takes place and this time won't be about letting win someone but rather defeating and proceeding with their agenda.

What do you think guys? Let me know !

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musekicker · 2 months ago

Text

Ford between dimensions finds himself in the pound.

Ford did not have the exact time, but he knew he had been trapped in this place he was currently for two days. He was only guessing though considering meal times and changes in staff had happened only twice. But he could be wrong.

There was no other way for him to really tell the time in this place. No clock was in sight and room where the line of cages were was always lit. No windows to even look outside.

He did not have a idea of time, but he was pretty sure that he knew what kind of place he was in. And that would be in a pound. A place meant for lost or wandering pets. Though in this sense the pets were all of the sentient creature types. And that Ford knew because he had heard the other captives speak to some of the workers more then once. There was sentience in their words and their stares.

The cages were mostly reminded Ford of chain link fencing one may see for a dog kennel. Except the chain link was made bright blue light that was a lot more solid then it looked. Not that he could even test the material of the kennel fencing. Not with his arms secured behind him with metal cuffs and chain anchored to the wall.

Some of the beings that Ford saw looked just as mad as Ford was about the situation. Pulling at the chains. Others looked more forlorn and subdued. Having long ago given in.

Ford was not in the given up category. He was still pulling at his chains and trying to think up a plan. Anything to get out of this place. He would be shouting more if not for the muzzle that had been placed onto him soon after arriving to this place.

Apparently bite one guard and you got muzzled. Ford had done just that before he had been dragged into his kennel. The muzzle had followed soon after that. For some reason this cage of wires and blue energy was as effective as a gag. Maybe there was a sound dampening system in the build of the thing?

He was still trying to think of a plan to escape this place when a voice broke his out of his thoughts.

"It'll be nice to get your pet back to you. It's a good thing you marked him or we never would had known to contact you." a worker said.

"That's one of the reasons why I marked him!"

Ford froze, knowing that voice all too well. He wished he could tell himself he was wrong. But he knew he wasn't. So it wasn't a complete shock when Bill Cipher floated into view at the kennel door.

There was a look in Ciphers eye that was very much Bill's version of smirking.

"Yup, that's my human. I'd know those six fingers anywhere." Bill said.

The kennel door was turned off to allow Bill to enter the kennel.

"I'll get the paperwork to sign him out." the worker said.

The moment that the worker left, Bill looked Ford in the eye.

"Well, well, well. Someones gotten themself into a pretty bad situation here. In this dimension creatures like you are considered pets you know? If I didn't pick you up, who knows what would had happened to you."

There was a mock pity to Bill's voice. A tone that only enraged Ford more. He shouted into the muzzle despite the fact that he could not be heard. Bill considered the muzzle, and ran a finger down one of the straps holding the muzzle onto Ford's face.

"The muzzle works so well for you." Bill said.

Ford snarled even though it could not be heard. Bill was amused by the clear rage in Ford's eyes. It made the triangle want to do so many dark things to break that defiance. The ideas were endless.

"Can't wait to get you home." Bill told Ford in a tone that brought a chill to Ford's blood.

The worker came back and approached Bill, a clip board with a variety of papers that Bill was meant to sign. A quick look up at Bill and Ford and the worker paused.

"Oh one thing, you have to leash your pet." the worker said. "More then one pet has tried to cause problems when their owners picked them up."

At the mention of the the leash, the glee in Bill's eye at those words was infuriating to Ford.

"Of course. Can't have my pet causing problems. And I know he would." Bill said.

A snap of his fingers and a bright blue, chain leash appeared in Bill's hand, the other end of it secured to similar in color and materials collar. It would not be something that could be broken with enough pulling or with anything sharp.

The worker, no longer worried that Ford would have the chance to possibly attack continued to speak in a calm tone. The scene before her not out of the ordinary or wrong at all to her.

"I wasn't on staff when he was brought in. But I heard he bit one of the officers that picked him up." the worker said.

Bill looked almost aghast. Even though Ford knew that expression was more for show then actually being shocked.

"Sixer! I didn't know you had it in you." Bill said.

The look that Ford was giving Bill now suggested that Ford wanted to tear Bill apart. Whether with hands or teeth. It wouldn't matter as long as Ford would be able to do it. The leash and muzzle would not allow for that.

The cuffs hold his wrists did not have any give either. Using his hands right now was out of the question. The only thing that was free right now were his legs. He did not have high expectations for that giving his a literal leg up on getting away. But it was better then nothing.

So when Bill pulled at the leash, ford pulled back. If he could had dug his heels down into the tile floor he would have. Anything to prevent himself from being pulled along towards what he knew would be a place where he was even less likely to escape from.

Bill looked back at Ford, eye narrowing slightly.

"You're just embarrassing both of us right now." Bill said.

Ford glared. And pulled back again. Bill turned a shade of red. Not quite completely angry, but irritated.

"Listen to me. If you keep this up I will summon up a carrier and put you in there. Is that what you want Sixer?"

From Bill's tone it was clear that Bill was done playing around now. And being put into a carrier did not sound like it be pleasant. Not to mention possibly harder to escape from. So Ford grumbled into his muzzle and stopped pulling. For now anyways.

Bill, pleased turned back to a yellow color.

"Better. Now come on Fordsy. Bringing you home."

#billford #gravity falls

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666writingcafe · 23 days ago

Text

Emergency Meeting

Which Takes Place A Few Weeks After the Flood

Mephistopheles

What a day. Several false calls about supposed important news items that turned out to be completely blown out of proportion, followed by one about a bunch of brats taking my brother's backpack and throwing it in the messiest trashcan they could find, and yet another meeting with the House of Lords where everyone was too busy arguing amongst themselves to get anything done.

And then when I thought I could just go home and relax for the evening, I overheard a few members of the upper House quietly conspiring against Lord Diavolo again, so I had no choice but to report straight to the castle and deliver the news myself.

Barbatos greeted me like he normally does: courteous with a smile that doesn't quite travel up to his eyes. I know he isn't the biggest fan of me, but since I haven't done anything to put Lord Diavolo in danger, he resigns to merely tolerating me. Which is fine. Butlers aren't really supposed to develop intimate relationships with people, anyway. Interferes with their job performance.

What I wasn't expecting was to walk in as Lord Diavolo was beginning to cozy up towards the Avatars' attendant. Obviously, they scooted away from each other once Barbatos made our presence known, but the light blush dusting both their cheeks indicates that we clearly interrupted something.

Stupid feelings.

I was merely meant to be a friend of Diavolo's. Our families have been close for many centuries, so consequently the kids are expected to maintain that relationship. But things changed when we were teenagers. Diavolo was never bad-looking by any means, but as he was morphing into his adult form, I found myself more and more attracted to him. Didn't want to admit it to myself initially, but it's kind of hard to deny it when you repeatedly wake up stiff from a certain type of dream starring a certain individual doing certain activities to you.

So, yes. I'm jealous. I've worked very hard to hide that from people, because it does nothing to change the fact that Diavolo will never see me in that way. The only way my jealousy is apparent is my hair. After one too many incidents where I looked in the mirror and saw him looking back at me, I broke out the hair dye and vowed to never be mistaken for that prideful bastard. His mere existence here mocks me. He has Diavolo wrapped around his finger.

And apparently so does his fucking attendant.

"May I help you?" Diavolo's question forces me to calm down and remember the reason why I showed up here in the first place. I suppose it's a good thing they're here too, for the news concerns them as well.

"My Lord, trouble's afoot. Members of the Upper House are making plans behind your back." Diavolo sighs.

"What else is new?"

"They're working with the Celestial Realm this time." The attendant's eyes widen. "My Lord, are you familiar with the Rembandy Accord?" A stern look develops on his face as he nods his head. Upon the confused expression on the attendant's face, Diavolo explains,

"If two members of Celestial and Devildom leadership sign a formal agreement, they can sentence an angel or demon they deem to be a risk to both realms to be sealed in Cocytus indefinitely."

"I see," the attendant replies, sighing. "I suppose after what happened the last time, they would feel the need to escalate things. If this Accord were to go into effect, I'd imagine you'd be powerless to stop it."

"That is correct. It is one of the few laws that I cannot override."

"From the sounds of it, both realms have picked their representatives," I add. "It's only a matter of days before they meet and sign the document, effectively extinguishing the lives of the Avatars." I swallow the scathing words bubbling in my throat about them. Nothing I say will change Diavolo's perception of them, after all, so why start an argument over it?

"I'm surprised they haven't signed it already," Diavolo comments. "Not that I want them to, of course, but given their opinions on the brothers, I would have thought they'd do it the moment they found their representatives."

"They're contemplating adding one more name to the list." I glance over at the attendant. "Yours."

They don't react the way I expected them to. Instead of turning on the waterworks and flailing across the room, they merely remain seated, albeit while looking more morose than they did moments ago. The room grows eerily silent. Eventually, the attendant stands up.

"If that is what they deem to be the acceptable punishment for my crimes, then so be it."

"MC--" Diavolo immediately stops himself, but the error has already been made. I heard about what happened to Solomon when he made the same mistake, and I'm prepared to stop them before they do the same to Lord Diavolo.

But they simply sigh, their focus still remaining on me.

"It's only right that you know the truth. You're one of Diavolo's closest friends, after all." They take a deep breath before continuing,

"Zephyr the demon was only an alias for me to use during my stay here. My place is in a future timeline, where I'm a human exchange student turned magical apprentice. My power is amplified by my ancestry and pacts with the seven Avatars of Sin, and in my world it was difficult to control, resulting in damage across the three realms.

"I received an object that helped tame it, but wearing it here would bring about too many questions, so I've kept it off. You've witnessed some of the effects of that decision recently. Objectively, I do pose a danger, and so it is only right for people to want to protect others from me." They briefly pause to wipe their eyes, and reflexively I pull out a handkerchief from my pocket and hand it to them.

"Thanks," they mutter as they accept it from me. Once they've finished, they offer it back to me, but I wave my hand to indicate that they can keep it. It's not like I can't get another one.

"Believe it or not, this has been the tamest part of my day," I tell them. "At least it makes some degree of sense. Only a human would have so much power tied to their emotions." Diavolo shoots me a warning look.

"Okay, tell me the last time you saw that severe of a flood! It paled in comparison to the ones caused by Leviathan's hissy fits, and he usually summons a whole ass serpent to help him out!" His look doesn't waver. "I swear on my life, I'm not trying to put humans down! They've proven to be quite useful over the years! I was simply making an observation based on things that I've seen frequently whenever I've been around humans. Nothing more." He finally relaxes, allowing me to do the same.

And notice the amused look on MC's face.

"What's so funny?" I ask them.

"You're a very expressive person," they reply. "That's not a bad thing, by the way. It helped me briefly take my mind off things." Right. Their potential sentencing. I really do need to quit getting distracted so easily.

"Look, I do not care so much about the brothers. What happens to them is of little consequence to me. But having you trapped with them would cause so many holes in space and time that the universe would look like the human world's Swiss cheese, and I am not about to be at the end of that particular lecture from Barbatos. So, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you get back home." I extend my hand out to MC, and they shake it. As I turn to leave the room, I call out to Diavolo,

"Don't think you've gotten off scot-free, Lord Diavolo. You, me, and Barbatos will be having words about your conduct towards our time-traveling human."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy

#obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me mephistopheles #obey me mc #obey me diavolo #obey me lord diavolo #obey me barbatos #oh to be a fly on the wall during that particular meeting #mephistopheles trying to be serious #diavolo casually revealing that barbatos has done the same thing #barbatos developing a headache as mephistopheles loses his shit

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 1 year ago

Text

Jouno's "Death" and Characterization

Actually I'm adding onto my thoughts about Jouno's death scene because it really is brutal, even compared to the earlier "deaths" of the arc.

[ID: A screenshot from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. A vampirized Akutagawa bites into Jouno's shoulder. Blood spatters on Jouno's face, scrunched up in pain. End ID.]

I binge-read the manga very quickly on my first read, and so I think there was a lot that I kind of overlooked, especially when it came to Jouno and his characterization. I found the guy interesting, but I wasn't as invested in his character as I was with some of the others.

But even then, his death shocked me with how... cruel it was. And going back and really paying close attention to his character, it hurts a lot more.

[ID: A set of three images from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. In the first, a speech bubble says "You have what it takes to join the Decay of Angels." Jouno's face is carefully neutral and he says nothing for a panel. In the next, face still neutral, he says "What are you saying?" In the second, a panel of Jouno, bound and smiling in prisoner's garb, is overlayed by Fukuchi saying "Jouno, you were originally an executive in a criminal organization. Seeing the good prospects in your ability and that sense of hearing, I recruited you six years ago, for the sake of this day." Jouno lifts an eyebrow with a small frown on his face and exhales a small puff of air. In the third, Jouno, smiling, says "Yes. From the start, I've known no pleasure but that of tormenting others. Besides, you even said it, that you initially recruited me for the sake of this day." His smile looks a little tight. End ID.]

Looking at Jouno's face here... I'd honestly say he's a bit hurt by this turn of events. He has a very similar background to Dazai. This is the equivalent of Dazai being told that he was only hired by the Agency because they actually wanted him to take up the mantle of the Demon Prodigy again, but this time for their benefit. Because that's his true nature, right?

Jouno was only recruited... because he was never believed in. He was Fukuchi's little criminal pet project, one that didn't go as he intended at all - and Jouno dies for it, only shortly after he starts to get accustomed to the idea of himself as a good guy (even if he's still... morally ambiguous, to be diplomatic about it lol).

But yeah, let's take a second and look at Jouno's particular brand of cruelty - that sadistic streak where he wants to hear the suffering of others... and how easily this was overshadowed by one old woman's quiet gratitude. Fukuchi remembers the beginning of this scene... but he's left unaware of the aftermath of it and how Jouno changed (fitting, for the man forever caught up in the war; who still lives like he's on the battlefield). Jouno is largely self-preservative - it seems likely that, given his criminal background, you stayed alive by asserting your power over others, and Jouno does this by striking fear into others and deriving pleasure in that reaction - but it pales in comparison to appreciation, which Jouno states makes the sounds of fear like silence. The old lady is such a small thing really, but it apparently left a huge impact on him.

I think it's quite a decision made to characterize a guy who is hyper-sensitive to sensory input as being strongly affected by the kind of reactions he gets from others. Jouno compensates with fear and intimidation, but he actually wants to be appreciated. Whether Jouno genuinely cares about justice as an ideal is up for debate still, I believe, but we can be positive he likes being liked far more than he likes being feared. So, while Jouno thought he was appreciated for his pursuit of justice under Fukuchi, and had come to the realization that he prefers helping over harming - his role with the Hunting Dogs was always a cage. Jouno was likely essentially drafted - he joins or he is probably sentenced to capital punishment. Obviously, he takes the offer - as Jouno does not want to die (again, remember he's self-preservative!). Now he's stuck as a Hunting Dog due to the intense monthly surgeries to maintain their bodies, but he's made a pretty sweet life for himself - Jouno is powerful, respected, feared, and he basically gets to act however he wants so long as he is ostensibly pursuing justice (a corrupt cop, really)... only for him to realize he actually does want to help more than hurt, and to then have it be revealed that he was never expected to change for the better from the very beginning.

He was drafted due to this expectation Fukuchi had for him, and when he did not live up to this expectation... his exits are blocked, he's set on fire to stop him escaping, then stabbed from all directions, like one would trap and corner a threat that needs to be contained, or a wild animal. There's... some pretty significant dehumanization to that.

It gets worse though, because Fukuchi is right about Jouno being different from the other Hunting Dogs, but he's off the mark on what's different about him exactly. The difference is largely in that even though Jouno took precautions in case he couldn't make it out (having Aya follow him), he is not devoted (or solely devoted) to that ideal of justice that drives the rest of the Hunting Dogs, nor was he at all intending to sacrifice himself or accepting of that fate.

[ID: A panel from the Bungou Stay Dogs manga. Jouno wears a concerned expression, a sweat drop on his cheek. His hair flies up a little as he moves across a background of dark lines for dramatic emphasis. The sound effect is a shudder. End ID.]

"Be strong... there's nothing to worry about/Don't panic, it's all fine" <-The words of a man who is very much trying not to panic (also Yuki Kaji did a great job in this scene - chefs kiss. The voice acting in the anime is so so good). Jouno's mental narration grows increasingly more desperate in his attempts to escape, even as he outwardly continues that show of pride and bravado, concluding with his "wish" to hear Fukuchi's later suffering - which is what he does to avoid letting others see vulnerability in him.

All the other people who died to Fukuchi had some kind of acceptance around it - Akutagawa sacrificed himself to allow Atsushi to escape and was accepting of that; Tachihara had no intention of a sacrifice play but was prepared to die rather than be turned by Bram, and found his resolve through a mix of the Mafia's and Teruko's influence. Jouno was not ready to die at any point in this fight, nor was that ever his intent.

About Jouno's dynamic with Tecchou: I find it really interesting that the closing and opening lines of the chapter where Jouno slashes at Fukuchi and "betrays" him are things like "at heart there is one intent" and "if there is evil, cleave it" - while they're really just the external hooks for the audience, not any character's thoughts or anything, I do find it intriguing that this sounds a lot more like Tecchou's philosophy than anything we'd seen of Jouno up to this point. In this way, I think Tecchou (and Teruko as well!) has had far more of an influence on Jouno than even he cares to admit.

And I think it's really good that Tecchou appears to be there for Jouno - he's got conviction in his capacity for justice as strong as a samurai and the ability to call him out and believe in him like that of a best friend. While Jouno's death is brutal, it actually validates Tecchou's belief in him - but this is not something anyone else really seems to see in Jouno, perhaps even Jouno himself until that moment. It recontextualizes their interactions: Jouno is the challenger. Tecchou just seems to kind of humour him, really. He doesn't treat Jouno like a threat or an obstacle. He's completely unafraid of him, either simply not reacting to his goads and threats, or calling him out on his bs when he takes his cruelty too far. It's like Tecchou's socializing a feral cat sometimes hjfhdbjvh

But remember that Jouno's grandstanding and desire to instill fear is likely self-preservative. Jouno sees Tecchou unafraid of him and goes "why is it not working??? He must think he's stronger or better than me, or else, he's just really stupid. I need to prove myself stronger than him so he doesn't think he can gain the upper hand on me." And meanwhile, Tecchou is just like "ok buddy let's go get some lunch. I like spending time with Jouno even though he's apparently mad at me for something idk what." Because Tecchou's lack of fear isn't actually because he's cocky or an idiot, or because he doubts Jouno's skill or strength - far from it. He knows full well how dangerous Jouno is. He just thinks "Jouno wouldn't do that". And it's that simple to him. I honestly believe Jouno hasn't quite figured that part out yet, and that he's reading his dynamic with Tecchou entirely wrong on his end. It's the epitome of that rival dynamic where one takes it super seriously and the other is just like "cool man anyways wanna hang out". Anyways I really hope their reunion is given some attention, when it happens.

You might've noticed I said "when it happens" and also that I put death in quotes at the top there - I actually have a question for all of you since I just thought of this on my re-read. Jouno was stabbed multiple times but since he's a Hunting Dog with advanced healing and enhancements I sincerely doubt that actually killed him. Then he was bitten... but the vampires seem to turn really quickly, and we see Jouno's thoughts for a while afterwards. Jouno didn't actually die in that scene, as it's stated he's "near death", and he's captured and taken somewhere by Akutagawa. It's highly likely he was just turned into a vampire, as he was bitten (perhaps his enhancements make the vampire ability take longer to get a hold), but I'm kind of wondering now if he wasn't "taken with them" for some other purpose and Fukuchi has him captured or comatose or something. Well, whatever happens... I hope he comes back to the manga at some point soon (though probably at this arc's conclusion if I'm being honest).

#storyrambles #bsd #bsd meta #bsd jouno #argh my 4 am thoughts plagued me and compelled me to write this :/#anyways jouno's cool :)#i appreciate him a lot more on my re-reads and during my season 5 watch #call me ace detective the way i am ace. and also a detective.#bsd spoilers

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bubblegum---bitch · 16 days ago

Text

I'd let the world burn for you: Celestial Being! Female Reader x Adam Pt.2

It was another peaceful day in Eden for yourself and Adam, the sky was clear with the air crisp with a comforting floral scent infused into it. Your hands was intertwined as he lead you around the familiar landscape, making his rounds ensuring everything was up to standards and him talking about any little thing that comes to his mind while you listened attentively. Things between the both of you had been more than wonderful, everyday was a gift that blessed you to enjoy each others company and share in the joy and knowledge of being an official pair. He took every opportunity that presented itself to kiss you, it was his favorite act that showed you in the best way just how much he adored you and you welcomed his affections.

Since the beginning of your new found relationship things had been quite, not in the sense that there was no activity since the flora and fauna were quite lively, but there hasn't been any presence of Elohim which was strange for him given that he liked to pop up and check in on his favorite creation every chance he got. There wasn't a doubt in your mind that Elohim wasn't aware of the relationship, he was omnipotent and made Adam's quality of existence his top priority, so it was only a matter of time he made himself known and voice his unwanted opinions.

"Pebble for your thoughts love?" Your companion asked pulling you away from your wondering mind. You hadn't realized that he had lead you to the waterfall, the sunlight was hitting the cascading water so perfectly it looked like a constant descent of sparkling diamonds.

"Just thinking."

"Well I hope you're not too busy thinking to take a swim with me?"

"Of course not, never too busy for you, my Adam." You appreciated that he didn't ask you what was on your mind, he knew that ever since you became companions that you tended to over think and worry about every that could happen in the future. It had been twenty days and nights since he's heard the voice of his creator who wasn't known to go MIA for so long but it was quite refreshing not being under constant surveillance.

You allowed him to guide into the cool body of water and cokes you into a swimming match. Gliding through the liquid was much like being within the universe, it was a weightless experience that reminded you of home but you didn't miss it compared to how much you'd miss Adam if you decided to return to the vast expanse of space. So the both of you spent the rest of your shared morning playing and enjoying the warmth you cherished in each others arms.

"I never thought that I'd ever feel this happy, I didn't even know so much happiness existed, until I met you. I hope all of our days in the future are as wonderful as this one." Adam let out a sigh full of content as you both floated beside each other looking up at the sky and the fluffy clouds that passed by.

"They will be, until the end of time my love." You both shared smiles as he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips for a kiss.

"Well look what we have here, don't you two look all cozy and cute." You were so caught up in the moment that you failed to sense the new presence that decided now was the perfect time to interrupt. Samael was seated that the edge of the waterfall with his feet swaying in the water staring at the both of you with a big smile on his face. The morning star apart from Adam was Elohim's favorite creation, which was a title the little angel voiced that he disliked sharing such a distinguished title with a being he saw as inferior to him, but you've never had a personal problem with him, you liked his creativity and his ever evolving imagination. But you've seen from the beginning that the two favorites were at odds and shared a strong sense of dislike for each other.

"Hello Samael, it's been a while." You greeted about to approach the angel but Adam was quick to pull you back into his arms and glared at the laughing angel.

"Oh relax I'm not here to cause trouble, I come in peace honest."

"What do you want?" They acted like they were sworn enemies on opposite sides of a war, but it was just petty rivalry to be their fathers favorite son. Having such passion to uphold such a rubbish title was something you would never understand. Elohim was quick to replace his favorite things with something shiny and new, leaving the ones he loved the most in a favoritism delusion.

"I'm not here for you human, I'm here to have a word with her, preferably alone."

"Whatever you have to say to my partner you can say it in front of me, so make it quick."

"You do not command me, remember your place!"

"You wanna go, let's go I'll take you on any day!" It didn't take much effort from you to keep Adam from charging at Samael who was already up and ready to pounce on him. If you let them have their way they'd be fighting none stop.

"Enough of this bickering. Samael I will hear your words since they are so important, but your behavior towards Adam is no excuse. Like it or not you're both more alike than you think." The little angel pouted but decided not to argue with you. It took a little convincing to let Adam loosen is grip on you and let you go with Samael which he was very reluctant to do.

You followed him along the tree lines underneath the cool shade, the animals curios as ever but not paying too much attention to the two of you since they all were used to your presences. "So, you and Adam huh, quite the hot topic in heaven."

"I take it Elohim is not pleased?" Not that you cared, whatever opinion he had of you and Adam being together was his burden to bear.

"Not pleased is putting it lightly. He's more snippy and bossy, even Gabriel's getting sick of it." If the ever dutiful and most loyal of his sons was complaining, things were probably more worse than Samael was leading on.

"Why? Not that I'm questioning your choices. But of all things in creation, why risk father's wrath just for him? He's nothing compared to either of us in the grand scheme of things, but you stay with him on earth anyways." Samael was curious by design, of all the angels Elohim had gifted him a rebellious and inquisitive spirit, it was nice to see that he cared about your well being.

"Are you worried about me Samael?"

"Of course I am, you're the one person I can talk to. Look you know it's no secret that I don't care for Adam, he's spoilt, pompous and thinks everything belongs to him just because father says so. Ever since he came along father treats us like servants and expects us the devote everything we have into pleasing him and doesn't care how we feel and I'm not the only one who feels like this but heaven forbid we say anything out of turn about his precious human being." Samael stopped walking, opting to take a seat on the soft grass with a defeated look on his face.

You always try to fathom how there were so many emotions inside such a little thing, you knew he disliked the idea of Elohim creating Adam from the inception but actually listening to how such a big change has been affecting someone on the outside looking in, you couldn't imagine how deep his hurt went, but you knew better than anyone how being replaced can feel.

"I'm sorry you've been going through such emotions Samael, I cannot imagine how all of this has been for you and your siblings, but in a sense I do understand your feelings."

"How could you ever understand?" You took a seat next to him and gazed up at the clear blue sky, looking through the dome to see the endless stars, galaxies and planets that were littered across the endless expanse of the universe.

"You forget little one, before your creation I was the first being in the universe. The universe was once was my home and things were a lot different than they are today. Before Elohim came to be I was content with the way things were but when he came to be, everything I had come to know and held dear to me had all been either destroyed or reshaped into whatever he wanted it to be without caring about how I felt and even asked what I wanted. For a long time I wished that the universe had rid him from existence, that I had the power he was gifted to fight for my home."

"But as time went on I learned to move on for I knew the universe had made him for a reason, just as I was created to be the watcher of all that was and will ever be. And now, I cannot help but be grateful to him despite it all, for in all that I had lost, he created someone so extraordinary that I couldn't imagine being parted from him. Love was just a concept of emotion to me until Adam, and now that I know it I want to be with him always, and even then the time wouldn't be enough."

"I know you do not approve of your fathers decisions, you and your siblings have every right to feel the way that you do, but trust me when I tell you things will not remain the same. Love has a funny way of making things better, someday you will understand that." You wrapped the little being in your arms, wondering when was the last time he had come to you to be listened to or hugged by anyone. You had never imagined experiencing such an act would be so powerful until Adam, and in that moment it just felt like the right thing to do to comfort the little angel who was trying his best not to cry.

"I don't want to see you getting hurt, father forbids me from being apart of the planning, but Gabriel told me that father's in the process of creating another human, a female for Adam. He's planning something else but brother refuses to tell me but whatever it is I know it's nothing good." The new string of information wasn't a surprise, you knew that Elohim was planning something during his long absence from earth, but it was still surprising that replacing you was his great plan, was he so enraged that he couldn't come up with anything better?

"Do not be fearful for me Samael, your father may be all powerful, but I am much older than he is with knowledge beyond his existence, everything will be alright, as he says just have faith, right?" You both shared a light laugh and after his departure back to heaven you began your slow return back to Adam, which gave you time to think on Samael's words.

It was indeed a comical notion, to replace you with a female human thinking that will be the solution to his problems. Perhaps the way you were feeling in that moment was exactly how he felt when you began to distract his favorite creation. But no matter, Adam was yours and it was going to stay that way for as long as you existed.

Upon your return to the waterfall Adam was sitting patiently at it's edge facing the water, his soft hair rustling in the gentle breeze and the sun shining brightly against his already luminous golden glow. He must have been deep in thought not to notice your presence as you approached him.

"Pebble for your thoughts my love?" His sudden surprise caused him to almost falling over into the rippling water which made you laugh.

"How long have you been back?"

"Just a little while, I was admiring the view." You chucked at the light blush that dusted his cheeks.

"So, what did pipsqueak want?"

"Adam…"

"What? Is he not short? Like how are you that short and have the biggest ego in existence? What did he want that was so important anyways?" There was no need for you to hide what you learnt from Samael, despite Adam being only human with no celestial powers or abilities to call his own, you had no doubt that he could shine his own personal light on the upcoming matter.

"Your creator has plans in motion to relace me with a female companion designed specially for you. As I suspected he knows all about us, isn't pleased and thinks that this is the best way to go about showcasing his disapproval."

"He's what!? I wouldn't accept this, if he knows about us then he knows I'll never accept that." Anger was a rare emotion for Adam since his environment was designed to the finest detail to cater to his every whim and need, but seeing it manifest due to his own disapproval of his creator was a beautiful sight to see.

"I know you wouldn't." Adam was quick to take a knee in front of you and took both of your hands into his. It caused your heart to skip a beat as you stared into his eyes that were full of love and devotion as he spoke.

"I love you and you alone, nothing's gonna change that so whatever he throws at us, we'll take it head on, together."

"Until the end of time my darling." A passionate kiss was shared, out in the open not caring who saw. Your love for each other was bigger and more powerful than anything in the universe, and you welcomed any opposition that dared to challenge that.

======================================

Seven days and nights had passed until Samael's words came into fruition, it happened as soon as the sun rose into the sky that yourself and Adam were awoken and confronted by Elohim. He had manifested himself into a form much like your own but much more flashy and towering as an intimidation tactic.

"There he is my most wonderful creation, how have you been my favorite child?" His demeanor was chipper and bright with no signs of ill will or negativity as he pulled his son into a tight hug, but you and Adam knew better than to take anything he did or said after this point at face value.

"Father." The greeting was dry and you had no intentions of extending one since Elohim was pretending not to acknowledge your presence.

"I have brought a gift for you my son, since you couldn't wait and opted for her I decided to make you your very own companion, the perfect wife just for you." As he had done with Adam in the beginning, Elohim had conjured his new creation from the dust, the form soon took shape and manifested its own unique features becoming just what Samael had said. Looking at her caused a string of mixed emotions in you, she was beautiful and had most of the things that made Adam himself human, a complete version of what his ideal female counterpart would be.

"Adam my son, this his your new and better partner Lilith, Lilith this is Adam your husband."

"I'm happy to meet you Adam. And who is this?" She asked with a tinge in her voice that you didn't like as she eyed you up and down. It wouldn't be a far fetched deduction that Elohim programmed her to see you as the enemy so you didn't pay her much mind.

"She is my partner, I'm not sure what father has put in your head but I'm already spoken for and no one will be better than her, father." He wasn't shy to take your hand into his as the total show of defiance to his creators wishes which you added by pushing yourself up closer into Adam not breaking eye contact with Elohim.

"Come now Adam, you cannot actually believe that I'd let this continue do you? I only indulged you so you wouldn't get bored until I created your one true companion. And now that she's here I expect you to be grateful and do as I say." It was nice to witness Adam seeing what you've always seen his creator as, self serving and ignorant to how his actions affect others.

"I already have a partner father, and I don't appreciate you treating her as if she wasn't here."

"She shouldn't be here, she's only here because I let her. And its about time she leaves, isn't that right?" His half assed excuse for a genuine smile seemed to spark a fire in your heart, the pent-up rage you've felt towards him all this time seemed to have bubbled over to the point you had no control of yourself.

"I'm right where I'm meant to be Elohim, and I have no intentions of leaving."

"Is that right? Well it wasn't a suggestion. Lilith is here now, so you've served your purpose."

"My purpose is not yours to decide. Adam is mine and I am his."

"Excuse me?" For the first time since it's creation the usually blue sky was taken over by a shroud of darkness that seemed to chill the very air, the gentle breeze picked up into whipping winds so harsh the trees themselves cried out. Adam and Lilith were trying their best to shield their eyes from the flying debris but you and Elohim were in each others personal space locked in a death glaring match with no intentions of backing down.

"You forget your place, I created the heavens and the earth, I have all the power of creation and destruction at my finger tips and I am all powerful. Who do you think you are that you stand here and defy me when the universe herself gave me dominion of all?"

"You forget that I am much older than you and though the universe has blessed you with favor, I will not allow you to strip me of all that I love once more without a fight."

"Oh so that's what this is, you're jealous of me and you thought that tricking my creation into loving you would somehow balance the scales? Oh that is just pathetic!" His maniacal laugh evoked lightening strikes that's struck the earth leaving scorch marks where ever they landed. It was just a show of his ever evolving power but it didn't faze you in the slightest.

"Unlike you Elohim, I need no tricks to be loved." A powerful surge of energy collided into you knocking you away from Adam and impacting the ground, the collision was mighty enough to erode the earth leaving a deep crater and destruction to anything near it.

"How dare you talk down to me, you are nothing compared to me!!" The very ground shook at his words and the animals scattered to the whatever part of Eden they felt was safest away from the upcoming danger.

"No! Father I beg of you stop this!" Adam yelled in complete disbelief and destress making his way to you but was stopped by an invisible force that rendered him motionless. "Release me! Let me go to her!"

"You will stay put and do as I say Adam! I have let this go on long enough and I am putting an end to this!" His carefully crafted facade he's portrayed to Adam for so long had finally melted away to reveal what he really was. A dozen eyes with the ominous glow of red rage with his numerous large wings flapping erratically creating harsh winds as he made his way to you like a predator.

"Did you honestly think that you would be worthy enough for him? You have no idea how much of me I have poured into his creation, he is the beginning of something bigger and grander than anything you could ever hope to imagine, and I will not let all of my hard work, my greatest creation, my legacy to be waisted on the likes of you." Everything hurt, if it weren't for your last minute thinking to put up a shield, he would have definitely knocked you out leaving you at a disadvantage but you were still badly damaged. You got up and felt your face, the impact had ripped away your skin exposing your celestial essence allowing it to seep through. You tried to transform and return to your true form, to at least give yourself a chance to fight for what you loved, but it was like a powerful force was weighing you down, restricting your power and keeping you weak.

"You feel it don't you, that smoldering pressure in your chest like you can't breathe? It would appear that the universe has finally abandoned you. All this time you've been playing house with my creations, and at the same time you've forgotten your true purpose, it's your own fault to be honest. If you had just stayed in your place, and did as you're told you might have still had her favor." As he spoke the weight of his words added to your distress, it had been a long time since you had returned to the endless expanse of space and be one with the universe, but was being abandoned by the first home you've ever known justifiable to your actions?

"Mother, have you truly forsaken me?" You whispered in disbelief, the feeling that was coursing through your veins, like everything that made you what you were was being snuffed out. Within your inner turmoil you hadn't realize that Elohim was at your feet standing over you, his aura cold and menacing as his many eyes peered into your very being. It felt like a python had wrapped itself around your body as Elohim lifted you from the air and applied pressure to his grip.

"Of course she has, you may have been the first born but I am and will always be superior to you, the universe sees the future just the same as I do. It's a shame you couldn't stay in your place, I might have had some use for you, but no matter. We've decided on a special role for you." The air in your lungs was being squeezed out of your lungs and darkening your vision, you could feel the unseeing force that was restraining your power and draining your life force weakening you.

"Father stop! Leave her be I beg of you I'll do whatever you want just let her go!" The agony in Adam's voice gave you the strength to stay conscious and reassure him, but all you managed was to softly whisper his name in desperation to reach him somehow.

"See what you've done to him? I'll have to erase every disgusting memory he's ever had with you to get him back to his original design. It will be painful for him, but I think it'll be worth it, wouldn't you agree?" You knew he wasn't bluffing, if he wanted to he could destroy the earth and restart from scratch. But that would be admitting his defeat, Elohim was too proud for that. He would rather erase the memory of your very existence than destroy his greatest work.

"You may be all powerful, all knowing, and the universe might have blessed you with her favor, but there is and never will be no true love in you. No matter how may creations you make, how much of yourself you pour into all that you desire, everything will grow to hate and resent you, and as time goes on, you will be but a distant memory, a bad dream to all that once feared you and you will disappear into the nothingness from whence you came. That is my curse to you Elohim, so that no matter what the outcome of my faith will be, at the end of it all you will never succeed."

A dark look overtook his face, any sort of light that was in the had vanished within seconds and he tightened his grip so much to the point that you felt like something within you broke causing you to scream out in agony.

"I will not be lectured by a being that has no place in the world to come. As a matter of fact, you don't belong anywhere, so about we put you somewhere so you can think long and hard about what you've done." He extended his many wings and shot up into the atmosphere knocking you unconscious from the sheep pressure that weighed down on your severely weakened body. Adam was hysterical as he cried and called out for you as you were taken farther and farther away from the earth, in all of his existence he had never felt so weak, so useless that no matter how hard he was trying to break free and reach you somehow.

In no time Elohim had reached among the stars and went even further until he reached the gates of heaven. The commotion had summoned all of the angels to the gate and gasps of shock and terror went up like a symphony among the millions of angelic beings. None of them had ever seen their creator in such a raw state of power. His warm and always loving spirit was replaced with feeling and emotions that the angels couldn't comprehend but as a collective was afraid of it.

"Look upon the heavens I have forged, the stars I have kindled, and the eternal order of my command. Do anymore of you dare to question the hand that shaped your very essence, the voice that gives you purpose? Let the fall of this once reverent being now turned enemy to my empire be a testament, a reminder etched into eternity that defiance against my will leads only to ruin and shadow!" You barely gathered enough strength to pry your eyes open and look out at the endless sea of the angels you've watched come to be since the beginning look at you confused, frightened and conflicted. Among the front of the crowd was Samael who had tears streaming down his face, a look of guilt and sorrow replaced his cheery and ever playful demeanor.

You managed to smile at him as you too shed a tear as Elohim lifted you above his head and sent you plummeting into the endless abyss of the universe at speeds that caused you to erupt into a flaming ball of hot fire, your screams of agony rang loud for everything with an ear, near or far to hear it. It was a awful sound, so bone chilling that no one could fathom what pain of such magnitude could feel like.

"To challenge me is to challenge the foundation of existence itself, and I will not hesitate to unmake what I have made. Know this, mercy is not a right, but a gift I choose to give. Defy me, and you will not only fall, you too will become a cautionary tale through all creation as a monument to the folly of pride." As he spoke his piercing glare bore into Samael's very essence, his anger now aimed towards his favorite angel as a silent warning to never go behind his back again. The angels were quick to part and disperse as Elohim stormed into heaven disappearing into the clouds as he retreated to his personal palace.

Those that remained including Samuel flew to the edge of heavens gates and looked down into space as your falling figure still visible and bright descended further and further away.

"My stars, what was that about? What did she do to make father so.. mad?" Baal-Zebul asked as she continued to tremble in fear. She'd never felt such a feeling before, the energy was all wrong, nothing that should ever come from someone that they call lord and father.

"What do we do? Should we go help her? Whatever she did she doesn't deserve, this." Ha-Satan said trying not to let his true emotions show.

"I'm sure father will reconsider when he calms down." Ashmedai whimpered not sure what to do in such a situation.

"Are you nuts? Did you not hear what he said? He'll do the same to us if we even consider something so stupid!" Mamona yelled, he wasn't sure what his siblings think they could do, but he wasn't about to risk the wrath of their father for your sake, your problems were your own. Livyatan stood closely at his side holding on to his robe crying from her being so frightened from what happened.

"How can you say something so selfish! Just because she did something father didn't like, doesn't mean she deserves.. this.. She's been there even before father, and shes always been there for us, we can't just do nothing." Baal-Peor had used her sight to see what was happening when the earth had descended into darkness, she wished she'd ever witnessed something so awful.

"Well I for one ain't sticking my neck out for anyone, so count me and Livy out of this." Mamona huffed grabbing Livyatan by the hand and pulling her away from the group.

"How could you be so selfish right now, she might be hurting and needs our help!" Baal-Zebul yelled blocking the pair from leaving.

"If you idiots wanna play hero's go right ahead but we ain't risking it and that's final."

"You're such a coward Mamona you know that?"

"Bite me Baal!"

"Samael, what do you think we should do?" Ha- Satan asked his brother who was still following your descent, unusually silent. That had caught the rest of the siblings attention and they watched him in worry. They all know that among the flock he had loved you the most. He always went to you when he needed someone to talk to that wouldn't dismiss his ideas or make him feel less than.

He fell to his knees and didn't stop the tears from flowing, they wouldn't have stopped even if he tried to. This was all his fault, that stupid, useless, undeserving human man had caused all of this. You wouldn't have been punished, why should you alone have been punished? To be exiled to a place none of them knew of. He didn't like this, it wasn't fair, it wasn't right!

In that moment he felt a bitter feeling within himself, like betrayal, anger and resentment all in one towards the ones that caused all of this.

"Samael?" Ashmedai was worried, they were all worried about their brother. The morning star was never silent for so long, even when he'd get scolded by father or Gabriel would dismiss his ideas for the earth he'd always bounce back to his bubbly self. They couldn't help but flinch when he got up and vanished into thin air, probably teleporting to someplace to be alone with his thoughts.

"Samael wait! Should we go after him?" Baal-Zebul

"What for so we could feel sorry for him? I say let him sulk, he'll get over it and if he doesn't who cares?" Baal-Zebul was about to tear Mammona a new one but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Let's give him some space Zebul, when he's ready to talk he knows we'll be here for him." She wanted to argue with Ashmedai, but she knew he was right as much as it hurt her to see Samael so distraught.

The white paradise became smaller and smaller as you descended further, you flew passed the earth looking out at the garden that you'd once called home and peered into the atmosphere with the last of your remaining strength to see Adam once more since you knew that it would be your last time.

He was crying, kneeling and cradling his head as he screamed your name. You didn't want him to cry, to know that you wouldn't be there to wipe his tears away and tell him everything was going to be ok. You knew that you were abandoned, being punished for loving, but you still prayed to the universe, your creator and home, that she'd watch over and protect your beloved human. And if she ever found it in her infinity to let your never-ending love to him for the days to come that you'd be parted from him, to somehow reach and comfort him, that would be enough.

#hazbin hotel #x reader #Adam x Reader #Celestial Being Reader #Female reader #Forbidden love #Elohim/God #Angst

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